Scripture Hall.
"Now, the Dao was born from nothingness, spirit condensed from the void; one yin and one yang gave birth to all things."
"The Dao drew upon the functions of the Five Elements; thus did change and transformation proceed, life generating life without cease..."
Zhou Yi wore a jade crown reaching toward Heaven and a deep-purple Daoist robe. Sitting upright with grave composure, he held a scripture scroll and recited aloud in a ringing voice.
Once the Daoist scriptures of the ancient sages had been recited, he began explaining them word by word and sentence by sentence.
Zhou Yi was now eight hundred and twenty-six years old. From the very first cultivation art he obtained in the Heavenly Prison, a Daoist martial art, through his travels to places such as Little Dan Mountain and Zhengyang Abyss, he had cultivated for more than eight hundred years without ever ceasing to recite and contemplate the works of the ancient sages.
Now, when he lectured, he quoted classics with effortless fluency, his words pouring forth like a suspended river. He drew upon other Daoist scriptures while expanding upon the marvelous applications of immortal Dao arts.
With subtle words and profound meaning, he pointed straight at the essence of cultivation.
Yet among the thousand-odd disciples below, few could focus their minds. Some were muddled with stray thoughts, some let their spirits wander beyond the heavens, and some were even drowsy with sleep.
After finishing a volume of True Person Fubo's Treatise on Analyzing Doubts and Pointing Out Delusions, Zhou Yi had recovered most of his mana. Just as he was about to leave and continue ripening the Jianmu Tree, someone among the disciples below rose and bowed.
Yu Shou bowed deeply. "Elder, this disciple has a question in his heart."
"Speak."
Zhou Yi