At the foot of Buzhou Mountain, countless beings gathered, and the clamor shook the heavens. Cultivators of every race either rode on escape lights, mounted exotic beasts, or climbed on foot, all struggling toward Zixiao Palace, hidden atop the sea of clouds. The Pangu pressure emanating from the mountain was as vast as an ocean. The higher they climbed, the greater the resistance became, and the flow of spiritual qi grew increasingly violent. Many whose cultivation was insufficient could no longer take another step by the time they reached the mountainside, left with nothing but sighs as they gazed toward the palace.
Li Wuyang blended into the crowd, feeling the heavy pressure that filled every corner of the air, and secretly clicked his tongue. He tried having Huaihuai fly, but after rising only several yards from the ground, an immense force pressed down upon them, nearly sending them plummeting. It seemed that if he wanted to reach Zixiao Palace, he could only rely on his own cultivation and perseverance to climb this spine of heaven and earth step by step.
Just as he was studying the route and preparing to climb along with the crowd, the bronze compass in his robes began trembling more noticeably, even emitting a faint, gentle glow. His heart stirred. He quietly took out the compass and saw that its needle was not pointing toward the mountaintop, but unwaveringly toward an inconspicuous, deep fissure at the base of Buzhou Mountain, covered in vines.
"Could there be a shortcut?" Li Wuyang's heart pounded. This compass had come from that mysterious cave dwelling, so it was certainly no ordinary item. Perhaps its guidance held some deeper meaning. He glanced at the endless mountain path packed with competitors, then at the quiet fissure. Decisively, he chose to trust his own "fate."
He quietly left the main group and arrived before the fissure. As he pushed aside the vines, an incomparably pure stream of Innate Spiritual Qi mixed with an ancient, weathered aura rushed toward him. The fissure was pitch-black and bottomless, yet the compass's direction was unmistakably clear.
"Come on, let's take a look inside!" Li Wuyang gritted his teeth and put away Huaihuai and the other companions, whose size made them inconvenient to bring along. He took only Yingying and Treasure-Seeking Mouse Jinbao as he carefully stepped into the fissure.
At first, it was so narrow that only one person could pass. After walking several dozen steps, the passage suddenly opened up. The inside of the fissure held another world entirely: a naturally formed stone stairway winding upward. The stone walls on both sides were smooth as jade, carved with blurred innate Dao patterns that emitted a soft glow and illuminated the path ahead. Even more strangely, the Pangu pressure here seemed to have been blocked by some force, making the journey far easier than outside.
"There really is something fishy here!" Li Wuyang was overjoyed and quickened his pace up the stairs. The passage was utterly silent, filled only with the echoes of his footsteps and breathing. He could sense that this route did not rise in a straight line. Instead, it followed an inscrutable trajectory, bypassing the most oppressive regions of Buzhou Mountain and leading straight to the summit.
He did not know how long he had walked before a glimmer of light appeared ahead. He hurried forward and emerged, only for the sight before him to leave him stunned.
He was already at the very peak of Buzhou Mountain. Beneath his feet rolled a sea of clouds, while above him stretched a sky as clear as freshly washed azure. Directly ahead, an ancient, majestic palace wreathed in purple qi floated silently in the void, as though it had existed since time immemorial. Its gates were tightly shut, and above them hung a plaque bearing three Great Dao Runes—"Zixiao Palace."
Before the palace gates lay an enormous white-jade plaza. At this moment, several dozen figures were already seated there, scattered about. Every one of them possessed an aura as deep as the sea. Some had the bearing of immortal sages, some were imposing and tyrannical, while others were compassionate and serene. Clearly, they were all supreme experts of the prehistoric world who had arrived long ago.
The Three Pure Ones—Laozi, Yuanshi, and Tongtian—sat at the very front, their auras ethereal and profound. Empress Nuwa was dignified and magnificent, while the great deity Fuxi beside her deduced the Eight Trigrams. Di Jun and Taiyi's demonic qi surged into the heavens as they faced several of the Twelve Ancestor Witches from afar, creating a subtle atmosphere. Zhen Yuanzi, Old Ancestor Hongyun, and others were also present. There were even more beings whose names Li Wuyang did not know, yet whose auras were not the least bit weaker.
Li Wuyang's appearance did not cause much of a stir. His cultivation was meager, and he had emerged from such a "side path." In the eyes of the many great powers, he was like an ant that had wandered into a gathering of immortals. At most, he drew a few indifferent glances before they stopped paying attention to him.
Li Wuyang secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly found the most remote and inconspicuous corner, imitated the others, and sat down cross-legged. He watched his nose, his nose watched his heart, doing his utmost to reduce his presence. He secretly studied those great figures he had only heard of in legends, feeling both thrilled and nervous.
At that moment, the gates of Zixiao Palace slid open without a sound. A young attendant with twin buns and a solemn expression walked out. His gaze swept over the beings in the plaza as he said in a cold voice, "The time has come. The palace gates are open. By my master's command, there are three thousand prayer mats inside, corresponding to the number of the three thousand Great Daos. Each of you may enter and take a seat according to your own fate."
As soon as his words fell, the great powers on the plaza rose one after another, transforming into streams of light and flowing into Zixiao Palace in orderly fashion, though each harbored the desire to be first.
Li Wuyang did not dare delay. He hurriedly rose as well and entered with the tail end of the crowd.
(End of Chapter Twenty-Nine)
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