The resonance between the cushion and the compass grew increasingly distinct. Li Wuyang felt that the cushion beneath him was no longer merely emitting a cool aura; it had begun to vibrate at an exceedingly subtle frequency, as though conveying a unique rhythm.
Even stranger, the needle of the bronze compass in his arms, which had originally pointed nowhere in particular, slowly began to turn. It finally stopped at an extremely tiny mark in the center of the compass, one Li Wuyang had never noticed before. There were no words on that mark, only a simple symbol representing "one."
At the same time, the voice of Dao Ancestor Hongjun's sermon—the Dao resonance—reached Li Wuyang's ears and began to change.
Those Great Dao Mantras and golden runes, so complex that they made his head spin, seemed to be filtered and simplified by an invisible sieve. All their elaborate trappings faded away, leaving behind only the most central, most essential... patterns.
They were no longer specific divine abilities or profound explanations of laws, but a pure sense of rhythm concerning "movement." Like the rhythm of breathing, the rhythm of a heartbeat, the rhythm of stars in motion, the rhythm of the seasons cycling...
"Dao gave birth to One, One gave birth to Two, Two gave birth to Three, Three gave birth to all things..." This once-mysterious phrase was no longer philosophical speculation in Li Wuyang's perception. Instead, it became a clear rhythm of "growth," like a seed breaking through the soil or cells dividing.
He still could not understand the specific nature of the "Dao," but he began to "feel" the primordial rhythm of movement and stillness, birth and extinction.
This sensation acted directly upon the depths of his soul, producing a low-frequency resonance with the Primordial Great Dao Imprint in his sea of consciousness. The Great Dao Imprint was like a slumbering giant, lightly struck by this simple rhythm. The purple radiance flowing from it became gentler and more vibrant.
Li Wuyang involuntarily closed his eyes. He no longer tried to "listen," but to "feel." He forgot that he was in Zixiao Palace, forgot the three thousand great powers around him, and even forgot the Dao Ancestor's existence. His mind sank completely into that wondrous rhythm, rising and flowing along with it.
Without realizing it, his breathing adjusted to a frequency synchronized with that rhythm. The rotation of the golden core within his dantian also aligned with it. Even the Huang Ting Jing cultivation art he practiced began to circulate on its own, more smoothly than before under the rhythm's guidance.
He had not comprehended any particular spell or principle, yet he felt that his "foundation" was being cleansed and solidified by the purest kind of power. It was the most genuine closeness to, and experience of, the Dao.
In this state, time lost all meaning.
Who knew how long had passed? Perhaps an instant, perhaps a thousand years.
The Dao Ancestor's sermon came to an abrupt end.
Inside Zixiao Palace, the golden lotuses vanished and the runes faded away. The great powers gradually awakened from their deep states of enlightenment, each with either the joy of harvest or profound contemplation on their faces. Clear qi lingered above the heads of the Three Pure Ones, creation flowed within Nuwa's eyes, and Zhunti and Jieyin wore compassionate expressions... Clearly, they had all gained greatly.
Li Wuyang slowly opened his eyes as well. His gaze had become much clearer, losing some of its liveliness and gaining a measure of calm. Examining himself inwardly, he found that his cultivation had not increased significantly, but his golden core was more rounded and translucent, his true qi several times purer and more condensed, and his divine sense sharper and more refined.
An indescribable sense of solidity filled his entire body.
"It feels like... I didn't understand it, but I also seem to have understood something?" Li Wuyang scratched his head, feeling utterly bewildered. He looked at the cushion beneath him, now calm once more, then touched the compass in his arms. Understanding dawned on him: these two objects were likely responsible for granting him this unique experience.
Dao Ancestor Hongjun's gaze swept across the crowd once more as he spoke calmly. "This sermon lasted three thousand years. It ends here."
Three thousand years?! Li Wuyang was startled. It had felt like only a little while to him! Truly, seven days in the mountains meant a thousand years in the world!
Hongjun continued, "Each of you has your own fate and opportunity. Reflect on it well. The date of the next sermon will be decided later. You may disperse."
With that, his figure slowly dissipated atop the cloud couch.
The palace gates opened once more.
The three thousand worldly guests rose one after another. Some left impatiently, eager to enter seclusion and digest their gains; others gathered in small groups to exchange insights and discuss the Dao.
Li Wuyang followed the crowd out of Zixiao Palace. Standing in the plaza and gazing at the boundless sea of clouds, he felt deeply moved. Though this sermon had not granted him earth-shattering divine abilities like those great figures had attained, his unique perception of the Great Dao origin had undoubtedly laid an incomparably solid foundation for his future path of cultivation.
Just then, a gentle voice sounded beside him. "Little friend, please stay."
Li Wuyang turned around, and his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
The one who had called out to him was none other than the man seated on the purple cushion in the foremost row—the future foremost of the Six Saints, Taishang Laozu!
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