I am your natural enemy.

Chapter 809 A painting with a soul, it is advisable to repair bridges and pave roads.

Wen Yan didn't take the painting his silly son handed him. He didn't care whether his son was sharing it or had been caught stealing food and was handing it over voluntarily.

Anyway, it's all better than at the beginning. Back then, I ate everything, wanted to eat everything, was possessive of my food, greedy, and didn't know how to control myself, which was actually quite dangerous.

"It's fine as it is now," Wen Yan said with great satisfaction. She reached out and hugged her silly son.

The silly son stared blankly at Wen Yan, seemingly not understanding what Wen Yan wanted to do. Finally, he grabbed the phantom of a candied hawthorn from the painting, held it in his hand, and with a tense little face, held it to Wen Yan's mouth.

Wen Yan couldn't help but smile broadly and kiss her silly son.

"You eat it, you're becoming more and more sensible."

Xiao Wu stood to the side, seemingly a little uneasy, because Wen Yan had told him not to give this younger brother any food.

But seeing that Wen Yan didn't seem to be blaming him, Xiao Wu's expression finally relaxed a little.

Wen Yan held her silly son in one arm and patted Xiao Wu's shoulder with the other, giving Xiao Wu a boost of yang energy and then adding a bit of transformed soul power with the blazing sun.

"Don't be nervous, it seems you're recovering quite well lately."

Xiao Wu is missing a soul; he previously seemed to have some intellectual problems, but he was able to create paintings that possess a soul.

Xiao Wu's career change was due to his foolish son, who distorted the definition of the soul.

That's why Xiao Wu can create paintings with soul, which he uses to mend his own soul.

Meanwhile, in his simple-minded son's eyes, Xiao Wu is an unparalleled master chef, without equal.

The candied hawthorn skewer that the foolish son grabbed was far purer than the soul power transformed from Wen Yan.

That's not due to power, but because there's a fundamental difference.

The gentle words only conveyed the power of the soul, while the paintings that Xiao Wu could create truly possessed a soul.

This was the first time Wen Yan had ever seen what the soul of a non-living being looked like.

That feeling was quite peculiar.

Wen Yan pulled Xiao Wu into the room. Old Wu wasn't home. After asking Xiao Wu's full-time nanny, she learned that Xiao Wu was on vacation and wanted to come back as soon as possible.

Looking at the painting in his silly son's hand, which was clearly not painted today, he understood what was going on.

Judging by how skilled the silly son is, he probably used to freeload off Xiao Wu quite often.

Wen Yan didn't bother to care. At least Xiao Wu was a good kid, and he could influence her silly son in a positive way.

Upon entering Xiao Wu's home, Xiao Wu hurriedly went to pour water for Wen Yan. Although he was a bit clumsy, he clearly put in too much tea. The full-time nanny, watching Xiao Wu's actions, looked worried but refrained from helping.

Having Xiao Wu do more things within his ability will greatly help his recovery.

This nanny was hired by Lao Wu at a high price. She takes very good care of Xiao Wu and knows how to maintain a proper balance, allowing Xiao Wu to do some things on his own.

Wen Yan watched Xiao Wu's actions with a smile; compared to the beginning, it was an earth-shattering change.

Now he looks like a normal child, but he is still a bit slow to react, often gets distracted, and sometimes doesn't express himself clearly.

Wen Yan glanced at her silly son in her arms, then at Xiao Wu, and made a decision in her heart.

"Xiao Wu, I need your help."

"Uncle Wen, what can I do to help?" Xiao Wu, who had been lost in thought, was pulled back to reality and looked serious.

"I would like to ask you to paint a picture of a bridge that spans a river."

Upon hearing this, Xiao Wu immediately took out his notebook and pen and meticulously began to write it down.

The characters were written crookedly, and some were even written in pinyin.

Wen Yan wanted to lend a hand, but a glance revealed a dictionary on a nearby table, so he abandoned the idea and let Xiao Wu learn on his own.

The child is recovering quite quickly; he might fully recover in a few years.

"There are no restrictions on what kind of bridge you can draw; you can draw whatever you want."

Xiao Wu carefully wrote down every word Wen Yan said, and began to seriously ponder, recalling the bridges he had seen, the bridges he had imagined, and the bridges in anime...

"Don't force yourself, anytime is fine, no rush."

Wen Yan didn't set a time limit or a limit on the type of bridge; he just wanted a bridge painting with soul.

This is the countermeasure that Wen Yan had thought of before, in preparation for the future.

The River Styx is too important. Wen Yanxin and Miss Qi are right, but the bloody lesson of the River God's affair is still fresh in our minds.

Logically speaking, the River Styx should not be completely controlled by one person. The river itself will affect the river god, and if something happens and the river god wants to cause trouble, it will be a huge problem.

Especially since that's the River Styx, a strange object that Wen Yan couldn't completely purify before. Just rinsing it in the River Styx will wash away all the ghostly spirits and evil power hidden within.

In terms of emotions, if everything related to the River Styx is entrusted to Miss Qi, it is tantamount to telling everyone that if you want to cause trouble in the River Styx, you only need to win over Miss Qi.

The negative example of the River God can be brought out again to emphasize this point.

Therefore, from any perspective, it's always necessary to add an extra layer of insurance, or in other words, not to put all your eggs in one basket.

When Wen Yan returned from the River Styx, the first things that came to mind were the legendary stories and Xiao Wu.

Even if you brought out the strongest design team and construction crew in China, you still couldn't build a bridge across the River Styx.

That place has a spatial problem; it looks very narrow, yet it seems boundless.

Relying on infrastructure to push across would probably be no less difficult than building a bridge across the ocean that spans tens of thousands of kilometers.

In particular, if the space there fluctuates, expands or shrinks, the concrete bridge will most likely be torn apart.

So the requirements for this bridge are quite challenging.

It can be erected, but living people cannot pass through it.

It gives the souls of the dead a new choice, and at the same time, it serves as a screening process.

Similarly, this also prevented the Styx from swallowing all those souls at once.

Furthermore, if Xiao Wu can draw this bridge, and most importantly, if this bridge can actually be built...

So this matter itself must be of great benefit to Xiao Wu.

In summary, this is the best solution Wen Yan could think of.

As for the underworld, Wen Yan also looked at it; that desolate place was completely barren.

At the current rate of evolution, it may take several hundred years before significant changes occur.

Wen Yan really didn't want to go back to that desolate, eerily quiet place.

Seeing that Xiao Wu had obtained the requirements, he ignored Wen Yan and went back to his studio on his own. Wen Yan didn't say anything, but just followed behind and watched.

At this moment, Xiao Wu was just like he used to be, immersed in his own world and showing little reaction to the outside world.

When he starts painting, the outside world seems to disappear; it's an extreme form of focus.

Just like before, Wen Yan stood at the door, quietly watching Xiao Wu holding a pen in the studio.

The silly son also quieted down at this moment, leaning on Wen Yan's shoulder, tilting his head to look at Xiao Wu, without crying, making a fuss or arguing.

After waiting for a full half hour, when his silly son was already drooling and sleeping soundly on Wen Yan's shoulder, Xiao Wu finally put down the first stroke.

With just the first stroke, the power within Xiao Wu began to flow away like a burst dam. His own soul power flowed through the paintbrush and into the canvas, transforming into hasty brushstrokes.

At this moment, the soul power that Wen Yan had casually bestowed upon Xiao Wu began to be rapidly depleted, holding back Xiao Wu's own energy expenditure. Wen Yan reacted swiftly, taking a step forward and appearing silently behind Xiao Wu. He extended a hand, forming a Dao finger, and placed it an inch behind Xiao Wu's head.

A continuous stream of power was bestowed upon Xiao Wu by Wen Yan using the blazing sun.

Seeing such terrifying energy expenditure, Wen Yan couldn't help but frown slightly.

He didn't actually mention any specific requests, right? How come the consumption is so high?

Then the problem must be with the bridge itself.

For this thing to be transformed into having a soul, it would require an extremely large amount of power to support it.

Given Xiao Wu's own strength, he would faint on the spot after drawing just one stroke, considering that he would need to recover and rest later.

Given Xiao Wu's current condition, it would be considered good if he could draw one stroke a week.

Furthermore, considering that Xiao Wu can't always create a painting with soul every time he paints,

So the "bridge" that Wen Yan wants might take decades to complete.

This was based on the assumption that Xiao Wu's soul would gradually recover, shortening the time required for painting.

However, right now, Wen Yan is standing behind Xiao Wu, continuously outputting her energy.

The soul power he can bestow is pure soul power without a soul, so that it can be bestowed upon others without being contaminated or having any negative impact.

As he replaced Xiao Wu's consumption, he was continuously replenished.

Xiao Wu remained immersed in his own world, his pen continuously making strokes on the canvas.

Wen Yan couldn't understand those seemingly chaotic strokes of the pen; she simply focused on being a reliable power bank.

A full hour passed, and the silly son had woken up. When he looked up, he saw Wen Yan with a stern face, constantly blessing Xiao Wu.

As Xiao Wu wielded his pen faster and faster, the originally chaotic strokes could now be vaguely discerned as a seemingly ordinary concrete bridge.

From a slightly lower vantage point than the bridge, Wen Yan could recognize that this was the Decheng River Bridge.

The silly son didn't dare to cause trouble. He hugged Wenyan's neck, leaned against her, and stared at her with wide eyes.

At first, he drooled a little when he saw the painting, but gradually, as the power in the painting grew stronger, the silly son lost interest in it.

When he was weak, in his simple-minded son's eyes, it was probably equivalent to a piece of tender beef brisket in a plate of stewed beef brisket with tomatoes.

But now, in the eyes of his simple-minded son, that bridge with a soul has become like a wild bull weighing several hundred kilograms, with thick skin and covered in mud.

I know that thing is actually edible, but I just lost interest in it and I'm certain that it doesn't taste good.

Time passed slowly, and three hours later, Xiao Wu drew the last stroke, depicting the waves beneath the bridge. After completing the embellishment, he stopped drawing, closed his eyes, and fell asleep on the spot.

Wen Yan supported Xiao Wu with one hand and let out a long breath.

Goodness, even with his current battery life, he's feeling a bit tired. Just how much power did that take?

Looking up, I saw a plain, even somewhat dilapidated, concrete bridge on the canvas, with the river flowing slowly below.

But Wen Yan could sense that this bridge possessed an extremely profound soul.

Wen Yan ignored the painting. He first picked up Xiao Wu with one hand, took him to his room, and told him to rest.

Then, he returned his silly son, who had woken up again and was now openly cuddling the candied hawthorns in his arms and munching on snacks.

Then he came back, looked at Xiao Wu, and comforted Xiao Wu's soul.

The child is still so stubborn. Even though Wen Yan said there was no time limit, he still insisted on doing it immediately.

When the night had passed and dawn had broken, Xiao Wu slowly opened his eyes.

Xiao Wu was somewhat surprised to see Wen Yan there.

"Uncle Wen, how did I fall asleep?"

"It's okay. You're tired, so I'll take you back to your room to rest. Sleep a little longer."

"I'm not sleepy anymore, I'm going to draw." Xiao Wu sat up, still looking quite energetic: "Uncle Wen asked me to do something, I have to do it quickly. My dad said that when there's something to do, it's best not to procrastinate."

"You've finished drawing." Wen Yan smiled and led Xiao Wu into the art studio.

Looking at the painting, Xiao Wu scratched his head, as if only then remembering that he had already painted it.

Looking at the painting, he was completely bewildered. He himself felt that it was impossible for him to have painted such a picture, which far exceeded his level.

Wen Yan reassured Xiao Wu and made sure he was alright before leaving with the painting.

He didn't leave immediately, but instead brought his mentally challenged son over, laid out the painting, and then guided the son with exaggerated gestures for a while.

The silly son stared blankly at Wen Yan, his mouth slightly open, his eyes clear, and a little drool still hanging from the corner of his mouth.

After a while, the silly son reached out and grabbed something, then stood up, used both hands to pull himself up by grabbing something, and sat down on the ground with a thud.

A transparent, spherical phantom appeared in his arms.

At the top of the railing pillars of the bridge in the painting, a sphere has disappeared.

Wen Yan didn't reach out, but had her silly son give the item to Xiao Wu so that Xiao Wu could use it to restore his soul. This was also a form of connection.

Only after completing this step did Wen Yan leave with peace of mind.

It wasn't yet the auspicious day for the imperial decree, so Wen Yan checked the almanac and decided that today was auspicious for repairing bridges and paving roads. He then took the painting and headed to the edge of the River Styx.

He didn't want too many people to know that Xiao Wu could paint such a picture.

This is not a good thing for children.

On ordinary days, I can draw a candied hawthorn for my mentally challenged son, or create some small trinkets to mend his soul, which is completely different from this painting.

Wen Yan wondered if the reason this success was so inexplicable was because her silly son was also present.

With her thoughts drifting, Wen Yan followed the path to the underworld and arrived at the River Styx.

When he reached the riverbank, he looked at the rushing water and took out the painting from his pocket.

In an instant, the heavy aura dissipated, the surrounding yin energy stabilized, and the rushing river in front of them calmed down.

Wen Yan hesitated for a moment, then suddenly a crimson flame ignited in his hand.

The painting in his hand was immediately engulfed by a huge fireball.

In an instant, Wen Yan felt the painting in his hand become incredibly heavy. He reached out and threw the fireball away.

The painting, suspended in mid-air, was completely burned out, and a massive concrete bridge, imbued with a heavy aura, instantly stretched out from the river.

It stretched all the way to a place where Wen Yan couldn't even see how far it was.

At this moment, the road coming from the fork in the road connects directly to this bridge.

Wen Yan felt the heavy aura, took a step forward, and stepped up.

Then, the next moment, he felt his feet sink into the ground, and he passed directly across the bridge and plunged headfirst into the River Styx.

Wen Yan climbed out of the river and stood on the riverbank, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He forgot that even though he had put a lot of effort into building the bridge, he was still a living person and couldn't possibly get on it.

(End of this chapter)