Yin Shou was but a mortal Human King of the dust, a body of flesh and blood, with no Great Dao at his side and no Saint protecting his path.
With the heaven-piercing methods of Saints, we laid layer upon layer of schemes, calculated step by step. With a turn of the hand, we could grasp a mortal's life, death, and Auspicious Qi. There was absolutely no way he could leap out of the chessboard and reverse the calamity!
There must have been some unknown deviation somewhere in this matter. It was absolutely not a fault in our arrangements!"
The moment these words were spoken, Primordial Heavenly Venerate and Jieyin both gave slight nods, faintly agreeing in their hearts.
One had to know that back then, the matter of offering incense at Nuwa Palace—King Zhou composing a poem that profaned the holy countenance and utterly enraged Empress Nuwa—had itself been a crucial move in the chessboard that the two of them secretly pushed along.
They had precisely borrowed Nuwa's anger to draw the Three Demons of Xuanyuan Tomb down from the mountain to throw the court into chaos and ruin the Shang Dynasty's Auspicious Qi. They had thought that from then on, they had firmly locked Shang Zhou's fate, making him sink deep into a dead end of muddleheaded tyranny, abandoned by all, never to turn things around for all eternity.
Even the ancient Saint Nuwa had fallen into the game and been used by the Investiture of the Gods Calamity. How could a mere mortal King Zhou possibly break free from the calculations and overturn the board against the tide?
Yet the scene within the Water Mirror before them had bloodily overturned every deduction and shattered every arrangement.
Zhunti stood where he was, brows tightly locked, racking his mind.