The Purple Firmament Palace Farce, Hongjun Begins the Great Luo Dao!

Just as everyone inside the Purple Cloud Palace was holding their breath waiting for Hongjun to appear, two somewhat disheveled figures burst out from the storm.

The two wore faded, washed-out Earth-yellow Daoist Robes, the hems stained with Chaos dust.

Their hair was disheveled, their faces covered in grime—these were none other than Jieyin and Zhunti from the West.

"Daoist friends, wait! Don't close the door!" Zhunti staggered forward as he shouted, his voice tinged with urgency.

"We two have traveled a long way from the West, only to listen to the Dao Ancestor's teachings. Please grant us passage!"

Outside the Purple Cloud Palace, the crowd turned their heads at the sound. Three thousand years had passed, and everyone thought no one else would arrive.

They never expected that living beings could still break through the perilous Chaos Storm.

Haotian stood on the steps, his brow slightly raised. He had long known these two would make it, so he said nothing.

He merely moved his fingertips, dissolving the barrier around the outer perimeter of the Purple Cloud Palace, allowing the two to enter.

The moment Jieyin and Zhunti stepped through the barrier, an unfathomable pressure crashed down upon them.

That pressure wasn't deliberately released, yet it was as heavy as the depths of the Chaos Sea, instantly putting the two on high alert.

They looked up at Haotian and saw this disciple of the Xuan Sect clad in a Dark Green robe, faint streams of law-light swirling around him, his bearing steady and imposing.

Their hearts trembled in secret, and they quickly bowed in salute: "Thank you, Daoist friend, for letting us through. We are deeply grateful."

Haotian gave a slight nod but said nothing.

Seeing this, the two dared not linger and hurriedly strode into the Purple Cloud Palace.

But as soon as they entered the hall and saw the arrangement of the Cushions, their already troubled expressions darkened instantly.

The six frontmost Cushions were already occupied by the Three Pure Ones, Nuwa, Kunpeng, and Hongyun. The remaining Cushions also had owners, leaving not a single empty seat.

Zhunti's eyes darted around. He suddenly grabbed Jieyin beside him, his legs going weak, his eye sockets instantly reddening, and his voice turning tearful.

"Elder Brother, look at this... the cushions in the Purple Cloud Palace are all taken."

"We came from the West, braving the Chaos and dodging storms, just to seek guidance from the Dao Ancestor and revitalize the barren lands of the West."

"And now we don't even have a seat to listen to the teachings. What are we to do!"

As he spoke, he began wiping his tears, his sobs growing more pitiful.

"The Western Spirit Vein is severed, the spiritual energy thin—we can't even find a decent place to cultivate."

"We worry day and night about survival. If we can't hear the Dao Ancestor's teachings this time, the Sentient Beings of the West... alas!"

Jieyin played along with a heavy sigh, his face full of sorrow, as if they had suffered some great injustice.

But everyone in the hall was a mighty figure of the Primordial Era—who among them hadn't weathered great storms?

There were no few Zenith Heaven Golden Immortals, and even those of slightly lower cultivation, the Primordial Unity Golden Immortals, were all of firm resolve.

Zhunti's weeping and wailing, in their eyes, was nothing but feigned misery.

Though a few felt a slight stir in their hearts, not a single person was willing to give up their Cushion.

Everyone seated here had earned their spot through cultivation and opportunity—why would they hand it over just because of a few tearful words?

Zhunti cried for a good while, and when no one responded, his sobs grew louder, almost shaking the Dao-pattern tassels hanging from the Purple Cloud Palace ceiling.

Just then, Hongyun in the front row let out a soft sigh. Ignoring Zhenyuanzi's tugging at his sleeve, he slowly rose to his feet.

"You two Daoist friends, please don't cry," Hongyun said, his voice gentle, his gaze falling on Jieyin and Zhunti. "I'll give you my Cushion."

At these words, everyone in the hall was stunned. Some looked baffled, while others stared at Hongyun as if he were a fool.

Zhenyuanzi frantically pulled at his sleeve, lowering his voice: "Hongyun! Are you mad? This Cushion holds hidden opportunity—how can you just give it away to someone else!"

Hongyun merely shook his head and shot Zhenyuanzi a reassuring glance.

When he had first sat on that sixth Cushion, he had vaguely felt that his own fortune didn't align with it.

Now that Jieyin and Zhunti had arrived, giving up the seat suited his wishes.

At this, Zhunti's sobbing stopped instantly. The sorrow on his face vanished without a trace, and he quickly cupped his hands: "Thank you, Daoist friend! Your great benevolence and righteousness—we will remember it in our hearts!"

With that, he turned and sat down without the slightest hesitation, his movements so swift that even Hongyun was momentarily taken aback. That pitiful act from before had all been a pretense.

Hongyun gave a wry smile, unconcerned, and turned to find a seat on a back-row Cushion.

But he had only taken two steps when he heard Zhunti speak again, his tone carrying a hint of self-righteousness: "My Elder Brother still has no seat. Would any Daoist friend be willing to offer another convenience?"

The crowd fell silent. No one wanted to be the next fool.

Zhunti's gaze swept across the hall. The Three Pure Ones were united and untouchable; Nuwa, though a woman, had Fuxi backing her and was not to be trifled with.

So after a moment's observation, he finally fixed his eyes on Kunpeng, who sat on the fifth Cushion, and suddenly launched an attack.

"You feathered beast, what right do you have to sit in the front row of Cushions alongside us Innate Deities? Hurry up and give your seat to my Elder Brother!"

Kunpeng was already feeling irritated over Hongyun giving up his seat. At these words, he flew into a rage, chilling aura spilling from him: "You dare insult me?"

"Insult you? So what?" Zhunti stood his ground, his gaze sharp. "How dare a creature like you defile the presence of Innate Deities!"

Just then, Yuanshi from the front row suddenly spoke, his tone dripping with disdain: "Daoist friend Zhunti is right. A creature like this is indeed unworthy to sit in the same row as us."

With Yuanshi taking the lead, several Innate Deities in the hall who already held a grudge against Kunpeng began to chime in.

"That's right! Kick him off! How dare he occupy a front-row cushion—how ridiculous!"

Kunpeng's face was ashen, his hands clenched into fists, the laws around him rippling chaotically.

Though his cultivation was profound, he knew that if he truly came to blows with Zhunti, Yuanshi, and the others, he would gain nothing.

As the standoff dragged on, Zhunti suddenly moved like lightning, striking Kunpeng's back with a palm!

Caught off guard, Kunpeng's blood and qi churned from the blow, and he was knocked straight off the cushion.

Before he could react, Jieyin stepped forward swiftly and sat firmly on the fifth cushion.

"You!" Kunpeng glared at Zhunti, murder blazing in his eyes.

He was about to strike, but saw Zhunti and Jieyin sitting side by side.

Venerable Yuanshi also cast a warning glance, and the other instigators subtly closed in around him.

He knew the situation was against him, and could only swallow his anger, gritting his teeth as he found a cushion in the back row.

His gaze swept viciously over Hongyun—if not for that fool giving up his seat, none of this would have happened!

Feeling Kunpeng's stare, Hongyun could only shake his head helplessly.

Meanwhile, Haotian and Jade Pool on the front cushions watched the farce in silence from start to finish, never intervening.

Just then, the high platform at the center of the Purple Cloud Palace blazed with golden light, and Hongjun's figure slowly materialized.

He wore plain white robes, held the Jade Disk of Creation, and swept his calm gaze over the crowd in the hall.

"In the Purple Cloud Palace, the seats are set. From now on, no changes are allowed."

Hongjun's voice was indifferent but carried an unshakable authority: "This sermon will last ten thousand years. The first three thousand years will expound the Dao of the Great Luo."

As his words fell, celestial phenomena descended. Countless golden lotus platforms surged from the floor of the Purple Cloud Palace, radiating faint traces of Dao rhythm.

Boundless purple qi gathered from the chaos, pouring into the hall and coiling around everyone present.

Vaguely, Dao runes flickered in the void, as if interpreting the true meaning of the Great Luo.

The crowd in the hall immediately composed themselves, ignoring the earlier commotion. They sat cross-legged, focusing their minds to listen to Hongjun's discourse.

Even Kunpeng, still seething with resentment, and Zhunti, secretly smug, closed their eyes and immersed themselves in the sound of the Great Dao.