Senior Uncle-Master's Dao, also within the Process?

The moment Chen Changsheng's words fell, the fervor that had just surged through the hall over the Provisional Measures for Primordial Credit Management was instantly frozen by an intangible chill.

Zhao Gongming's hand, extended to receive the official letter, hung frozen in midair.

The excitement and boldness on his face receded like tidewater scorched by the blazing sun, leaving behind only a near-dazed bewilderment.

Eight Views Palace?

That was the Eight Views Palace!

The dwelling of the Head of the Three Pure Ones, Senior Uncle-Master Grand Supreme Moral Heavenly Venerate!

The abode of that supreme existence who could even doze off during the Dao Ancestor's lectures, as if forever detached from the Three Realms, pure and effortless!

Going to the Dragon Palace for a census was a crushing blow from above.

Going to the Sea of Blood or the Demon Master Palace relied on the Heavenly Dao Momentum to overpower by force.

But going to the Eight Views Palace...

What was that?

That was building a dam called "Process" at the very source of a great river called "Non-action" that had surged for billions of years!

"Junior Brother!"

Zhao Gongming withdrew his hand with difficulty, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"This matter... is it... too hasty?"

It wasn't fear.

It was that he simply couldn't imagine what it would be like to stand before that Senior Uncle-Master, whose every breath seemed to resonate with the Great Dao, holding a form that needed to be filled out.

"Indeed."

Daoist Duobao, standing nearby, also snapped back from the extreme shock. He stepped forward, his expression unprecedentedly grave.

"Although Uncle-Master Yuanshi is proud, his actions have a pattern, always within the bounds of 'rules.' But that venerable elder..."

Duobao paused, as if searching for the right word.

"He himself is 'without rules.'"

A core disciple of the Calamity Aversion Department, clad in gray robes, nodded unconsciously. Another disciple gripped the jade pen in his hand tightly, his palm already slick with cold sweat.

The atmosphere in the entire hall grew oppressive once more, weighed down by those three words: "Eight Views Palace."

Chen Changsheng looked at the faces before him, a mix of awe and confusion, and calmly placed the official letter on the table.

"I understand the concerns of all you senior brothers," he said slowly, his voice soft yet carrying a power that steadied hearts.

"But today, we do not go as the Jie Sect."

"We go as the 'Three Realms Population Census Office,' acting on the Dao Ancestor's decree, carrying out the census on behalf of the Heavenly Dao."

He swept his gaze across the room, analyzing with clear logic.

"This matter bypasses no one. Since it cannot be bypassed, there must be an order. Senior Uncle-Master is the Head of the Three Pure Ones; by both sentiment and reason, his sacred dwelling should be the first Sage's domain we visit. This is 'respect.'"

"Second, Senior Uncle-Master cultivates the Way of Pure and Effortless Non-action. What is non-action? Non-action is not doing nothing, but following the Great Dao, doing everything without acting. What we do today has already received the Heavenly Dao's approval; it is the great momentum of the Primordial Era. Following this momentum is itself a part of 'non-action.'"

These words left everyone stunned.

Even Sect Leader Tongtian, upon hearing this twisted reasoning, showed a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Could it really be interpreted that way?

"The most crucial point," Chen Changsheng emphasized, his eyes gleaming with an insight that saw through everything.

"Uncle-Master Yuanshi cares about face, so we use process to make him lose face, and he will rage."

"But what does Senior Uncle-Master care about?"

He didn't wait for an answer, continuing on his own.

"What he cares about is 'principle.'"

"The 'principle' by which the Heavenly Dao operates."

"And the 'process' we have established today, this 'Credit System' just recognized by the Dao Ancestor, is now the newest and hardest 'principle' in the Primordial Era!"

"We are not going to challenge his Dao."

"We are going to show this elder, who best understands 'principle,' the new 'principle' we have discovered."

Chen Changsheng's voice rang out with conviction.

"He might find it dull, or wave us away."

"But he will never grow angry over this, much less stop us."

"Because that... would not align with his 'principle.'"

The hall fell into dead silence.

Daoist Duobao and Zhao Gongming stared blankly at Chen Changsheng, feeling as though every word that left his mouth carried a kind of magic they could not understand yet could not refute.

He had twisted an utterly overbearing bureaucratic system into... an academic report full of respect for one's elders?

"Haha... hahahaha!"

Sect Leader Tongtian's laughter rang out, brimming with unrestrained delight.

"Good! A fine 'reason' indeed!"

"Wuwei, go ahead and do as you will! If anything goes wrong, your master will bear it for you!"

With the Sage's approval, the last shred of doubt in Zhao Gongming's heart vanished like smoke.

He stepped forward, solemnly lifted the official letter from the table.

That official letter, in his hands now, no longer seemed like a death warrant, but a peerless weapon capable of shaking a Sage's very heart.

"Junior brother, how should I proceed?"

"Neither humble nor arrogant. Handle affairs according to regulations."

Chen Changsheng only gave him eight words in reply.

Zhao Gongming bowed deeply to Chen Changsheng.

"I understand."

The next moment, without a single attendant, he transformed into a streak of light, shot out of Golden Ao Island, and headed straight for the Thirty-Three Heavens.

Beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, a place of pure tranquility.

An ancient palace floated silently amidst the currents of chaos.

No radiant immortal light, no rainbow auspicious clouds.

Only an eternal stillness, as if even time itself had lost all meaning here.

Before the palace gate, a green ox lay lazily, occasionally flicking its tail, stirring wisps of great Dao aura.

Zhao Gongming descended ten thousand zhang from the palace gate.

He dispersed his protective immortal light, changed into a simple gray Daoist robe, held the official letter in his hands, and walked forward step by step.

He walked steadily.

Every step seemed measured by a ruler.

The green ox slowly opened one eye. Its seemingly murky pupils reflected the birth and death of all realms, the cycles of ten thousand ages.

It merely glanced at Zhao Gongming, then closed its eye again, as if it had only seen a speck of dust drift by.

Just as Zhao Gongming was about to reach the palace gate.

The gate, silently, opened a crack.

A young Daoist in an Eight Trigrams Daoist robe, his face as calm as an ancient well, stepped out.

It was the sole disciple of the Ren Sect, Grand Master Xuandu.

Xuandu's gaze fell on Zhao Gongming, calm and indifferent.

"Junior Brother Gongming, it has been a while."

His voice, like his person, betrayed no emotion.

Zhao Gongming stopped, performed an impeccably standard bow to Xuandu.

He did not address him as senior brother, nor did he exchange pleasantries as a fellow disciple.

He simply raised the official letter slightly.

"I, Zhao Gongming, by decree of Dao Ancestor Hongjun of the Purple Firmament Palace, deliver to the Eight Trigrams Palace the 'Notice on the Commencement of the First Household Registration Information Registration Work.'"

His voice was not loud, but it echoed clearly through that utterly silent void.

The moment the words fell.

The green ox's chewing paused for an instant.

In the distance, above the sea of clouds, a white crane that had been dozing leisurely jerked its head up, letting out a startled, questioning cry.

Even Xuandu's eyes, unchanging for ten thousand ages, rippled with a barely perceptible tremor.

He did not grow angry, nor did he question.

His gaze swept over the official letter, then finally settled back on Zhao Gongming's face.

He was silent for a long time.

So long that Zhao Gongming began to wonder if he would stand there until the end of time.

At last, Xuandu slowly spoke.

He asked a question that made Zhao Gongming's Primordial Spirit tremble.

"Is the way of the Master also within the flow?"

This question was plain, direct.

Yet it seemed to contain supreme power, pointing straight to the core of everything in this journey!

Zhao Gongming's mind, at this moment, stirred violently.

But he instantly recalled Chen Changsheng's calm eyes before departure, and the answer already prepared.

He raised his head, meeting Xuandu's profound gaze, neither humble nor arrogant, replying word by word.

"In reply to the Grand Master."

"The flow is meant to sort out the way of all things."

"Senior Uncle-Master's way is the foremost of all ways; naturally... it is the starting point of the flow, not its end."

"We have come today not to register, but to... calibrate."

Calibrate.

When those two words were uttered, Xuandu's pupils, almost imperceptibly, contracted.

What a calibration!

Using the way of a Sage to set the foundation of the flow!

How mad, and yet how... watertight a logic!

He fell silent once more.

This time, the silence stretched longer.

Finally, he slowly extended his hand toward Zhao Gongming.

"Leave the Official Letter."

"You, return."

A great weight lifted from Zhao Gongming's heart.

He respectfully handed over the Official Letter, watched as Grand Master Xuandu took it, turned, and walked into the palace gate.

The entire process carried not a trace of worldly smoke or fire.

Yet it felt as though a breathtaking, formless clash had taken place.

Zhao Gongming bowed once more toward the slowly closing palace gate, then prepared to turn and leave.

The mission was complete.

But just as he turned—

The door of the Eight Views Palace, which had been sealed for countless Yuanhui, once again, with an ancient and drawn-out creak, slowly opened inward by a crack.

A voice, ethereal and distant, as if from the very origin of the Great Way, drifted out from that crack.

That voice held no joy or anger, no cause or effect, only a faint, detached interest that seemed to see through everything.

"Xuandu."

"Let this... Flow Official, come in and sit for a while."