The Cushion's Predetermined Fate, The Change Xuande Brought

After that, Xuande took a deep breath and stood up.

"Daoist friends," he said softly, "let us enter."

Jieyin, Zhunti, Zhenyuanzi, and Hongyun also rose to their feet.

The five of them led the way toward that door.

Behind them, the Three Pure Ones exchanged glances, then stood and followed closely.

Nuwa and Fuxi rose and followed after.

Further back, Dijun, Taiyi, East King Duke, West Queen Mother, the Twelve Ancestral Witches, Randeng, and other great powers also rose one after another, walking toward the gate of Purple Cloud Palace.

The moment he stepped through the palace gate, Xuande only saw a blur of purple light swirling before his eyes.

When the light faded, the scene before him gradually became clear.

It was a great hall.

The hall was extremely spacious, enough to hold several thousand people.

The surroundings were empty, without any decoration.

Only on the high platform ahead was placed a single cushion—that was the seat for the one preaching the Dao.

And below the high platform, six cushions were neatly arranged.

Six.

Xuande's gaze fell upon those six cushions, and his pupils contracted slightly.

The cushions were ordinary, no different from the meditation cushions used by common cultivators.

But with Xuande's spiritual perception, he could sense upon those cushions—

a faint, barely perceptible trace of Dao resonance flowing—the resonance of a Saint, the cushions personally placed by Ancestor Hongjun.

What those six cushions represented, not all the great powers present might understand.

But everyone who could come here was no fool.

Those cushions were placed at the very front, closest to the high platform, clearly the best seats for listening to the Dao.

Who would sit there?

Xuande did not hesitate. He strode toward the six cushions.

Jieyin, Zhunti, Zhenyuanzi, and Hongyun followed closely behind.

The five of them reached the cushions and exchanged glances.

"Let us sit," Xuande said.

He moved first toward the first cushion.

Just as his body was about to touch the cushion—

a surge of invisible force suddenly rushed forth!

The force was gentle yet irresistible, lightly pushing him away, preventing him from sitting.

Xuande was startled, but he did not panic.

He steadied himself and tried to sit again, yet he was still gently pushed away by that force.

At the same time, Jieyin also tried to sit on the second cushion.

He was likewise pushed away, but that force was noticeably weaker.

Jieyin frowned slightly and tried again. This time, although the force was still present, it could no longer completely push him away.

He slowly sat down, settling onto the second cushion.

Seeing this, Zhunti moved toward the third cushion.

He was also pushed away, but the force was even weaker than what Jieyin had encountered.

With a slight effort, he sat firmly on the third cushion.

Zhenyuanzi moved toward the fourth cushion.

That force surged toward him, but it was far greater than what Jieyin and Zhunti had faced.

Zhenyuanzi's brows knitted tightly. He channeled his magic power, trying to force himself down, but the force held him steadily aloft, and no matter what, he could not sit.

Hongyun also tried to sit on the fifth cushion. He was likewise pushed away and could not sit.

Xuande attempted the sixth cushion—he was also pushed away.

Among the five, only Jieyin and Zhunti had sat down—Jieyin on the second, Zhunti on the third.

The first, fourth, fifth, and sixth were all empty.

"This..." Zhunti sat on his cushion, somewhat at a loss, "What is going on?"

Jieyin's expression was grave, lost in thought.

Xuande stood to the side, thoughts racing through his mind like lightning.

He understood what was happening.

The six cushions had their fixed destinies.

Not just anyone could sit on them.

Those who could sit had to be recognized by the Heavenly Dao, beings with the potential to become sages in the future.

Jieyin and Zhunti could sit because they were destined to be the two sages of the West.

And as for him, Zhenyuanzi, Hongyun...

Xuande had no time to think further, because behind him, the Three Pure Ones had already approached.

Laozi led the way, with Yuanshi and Tongtian following close behind.

The three walked up to the six cushions. Laozi glanced at Xuande, said nothing, and went straight to sit on the first cushion.

No rejection at all.

Laozi sat firmly on the first cushion.

Yuanshi walked toward the second cushion—the spot where Jieyin had already taken his seat.

He paused mid-step, his gaze sweeping over Jieyin, his brow slightly furrowed.

Jieyin turned slightly but showed no intention of giving way.

Yuanshi was silent for a moment, then turned toward the third cushion, where Zhunti sat.

He paused again, and finally walked to the fourth cushion.

Again, no rejection at all.

Yuanshi sat firmly on the fourth cushion.

Tongtian looked at Jieyin and Zhunti, then at Yuanshi, grinned broadly, and strode toward the fifth cushion.

He sat firmly on the fifth cushion.

The Three Pure Ones had taken the first, fourth, and fifth.

Jieyin and Zhunti had taken the second and third.

Of the six cushions, only the sixth remained empty.

Xuande stood to the side, his mind working at full speed.

He wasn't surprised that the Three Pure Ones could sit.

They were the true lineage of Pangu, favored by the Heavenly Dao's fortune, destined to be three sages in the future.

He wasn't surprised that Jieyin and Zhunti could sit either—the two sages of the West were also fated.

But the first cushion was taken by Laozi, the second by Jieyin, the third by Zhunti, the fourth by Yuanshi, the fifth by Tongtian...

Then what about the sixth?

According to legend, the sixth should belong to Nuwa.

But Nuwa hadn't come over yet.

Xuande looked up. Nuwa and Fuxi were standing not far away, quietly watching everything unfold.

Nuwa's expression was calm, but a faint ripple stirred in her eyes.

Fuxi's brow was slightly furrowed, as if he too was pondering something.

Other great powers—Dijun and Taiyi, East King Duke and West Queen Mother, the Twelve Ancestral Witches, Randeng—also stood nearby, their gazes fixed on those six cushions.

No one moved, but Xuande could feel the complex light flickering in those pairs of eyes.

The sixth cushion remained empty.

Xuande took a deep breath, then suddenly stepped toward Nuwa.

"Daoist friend Nuwa."

He came before her and said softly, "The sixth cushion is still empty."

Nuwa was slightly startled and looked at him.

Xuande didn't explain further. He simply said, "Please."

He extended his hand and gently lifted it.

A faint golden radiance surged from his fingertips.

It was Merit Golden Light, soft and warm, gently enveloping Nuwa and guiding her toward the sixth cushion.

Nuwa did not resist.

She followed that force, arrived before the sixth cushion, and slowly sat down.

She sat firmly.

No rejection at all.

The sixth cushion had found its owner.

The great hall fell into utter silence.

Everyone watched this scene.

The Three Pure Ones' gazes were deep; Jieyin and Zhunti's eyes flashed with sudden realization; Zhenyuanzi and Hongyun appeared lost in thought; Fuxi nodded slightly, his eyes showing gratitude.

As for the other great powers—Dijun, Taiyi, Minghe, Kunpeng, East King Duke, West Queen Mother, the Twelve Ancestral Witches, and Randeng—their expressions varied.

Some were astonished, some puzzled, some faintly unwilling.

But no one spoke, and no one stepped forward to contend.

Six cushions. Full.

Xuande withdrew his hand and stepped back a few paces, standing behind Jieyin and Zhunti.

His heart was clear and tranquil.

He knew what he had just done.

He had used Merit Golden Light to shield Nuwa, helping her take her seat.

That was his goodwill, the bond of "Morning Glory" between him and Nuwa, and also an investment in the future.

But he knew even more clearly that those six cushions were not for him to sit on.

He was a Form Transformation of the Merit Golden Lotus.

Yet he was a transmigrator. His origins, his fortune, his karmic ties with this Primordial Wilderness... none were sufficient for him to claim a Saint Position cushion.

He felt no resentment, no loss.

To come to the Purple Cloud Palace and listen to the Dao was already a stroke of fate.

To witness with his own eyes the settling of these six cushions, and personally help Nuwa take the sixth—

That was to participate in this great matter that would decide the future landscape of the Primordial Wilderness.

That was enough.

In the Purple Cloud Palace, the six cushions were settled.

Laozi sat first, Jieyin second, Zhunti third, Yuanshi fourth, Tongtian fifth, and Nuwa sixth.

The six sat upright on their cushions, their bodies faintly resonating with the Dao rhythm emanating from them.

At the rear of the hall, Fuxi stood not far behind Nuwa, his expression calm, but his eyes held relief and gratitude.

He looked at Xuande and nodded slightly—a gaze that contained too much: thanks, recognition, and a heavy weight of friendship.

Xuande nodded back in return.

Zhenyuanzi walked over to Xuande and said softly, "Daoist friend Xuande..."

Xuande shook his head and replied quietly, "It's fine. To be able to come and hear the Dao is already a blessing."

Hongyun also sidled over and murmured, "It's a pity we couldn't sit up there. But no matter! Standing and listening is just as good! I don't believe standing makes you hear any worse than sitting!"

Zhunti, seated on his cushion, turned his head to look at Xuande, guilt flickering in his eyes.

Jieyin also looked back, his expression complicated.

Xuande smiled faintly at them—a calm and sincere smile.

Deep within the Purple Cloud Palace, on the high platform, a figure slowly materialized.

It was an old Daoist, with a gaunt face, white hair and beard, dressed in a simple gray Daoist robe. No aura emanated from him; he looked like an ordinary old man.

But the moment he appeared, the entire Purple Cloud Palace fell still.

Everyone bowed.

"We pay respects to Ancestor Hongjun."

Ancestor Hongjun nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping across the hall.

At this moment, the great hall was filled with cultivators who had rushed from all corners of the Primordial Wilderness. Roughly counting, there were about three thousand.

Most of these people were Innate Divine Beings, along with many Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal rogue cultivators who had endured long bitter training.

Some stood, some sat, densely scattered throughout the hall, yet not a single person dared to make a sound.

Hongjun's gaze lingered briefly on the six cushions, then swept over the crowd standing behind, a trace of unfathomable meaning flickering in his eyes.

"Sit," he said calmly.

The six on the cushions slowly settled into their seats.

The crowd behind also sat cross-legged one after another, some on the floor, some wherever they found space. Though the hall was spacious, accommodating three thousand people made it somewhat cramped, but no one minded. All eyes were fixed on the plain figure on the high platform.

Hongjun's gaze swept over the crowd once more, finally coming to rest at the center of the hall.

"This sermon,"

he began slowly, his voice not loud, yet it reached every ear with perfect clarity.

"shall last three thousand years. Those with affinity may listen; those without may leave."

Three thousand years.

This number stirred a faint ripple of commotion within the hall, then subsided into stillness.

To a Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal, three thousand years were but a snap of the fingers.

But to hear a sage preach for three thousand years—what profound fortune that would be.

Within the Purple Cloud Palace, silence reigned.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the first sermon by a sage since the Creation of Heaven and Earth.

Xuande sat cross-legged among the crowd, his gaze resting on the old Daoist upon the high platform, his heart utterly calm.

A new era of the Primordial Wilderness was about to begin.