Zhurong, Gonggong, and the other Ancestral Witches beside her all froze. It was their first time seeing their little sister Houtu take the initiative to greet an outsider—and a seemingly frail cultivator of the Immortal Dao, no less.
Xuanqing was a little surprised too, but he immediately returned the greeting, his manner humble and respectful.
"Greetings, fellow Daoist. I am Xuanqing, of Jade Void Palace."
"So you're Senior Brother Yuanshi's esteemed disciple." A look of understanding flashed through Houtu's eyes, and her smile grew warmer. "My name is Houtu. I just saw that you, fellow Daoist Xuanqing, kept pace with those Golden Immortals despite being only a Mystic Immortal. Your speed was astonishing, and it piqued my curiosity, so I came over to say hello. I hope you don't mind."
"You're too kind, fellow Daoist Houtu. I was just lucky," Xuanqing replied with a smile.
He could feel that Houtu's goodwill toward him was sincere.
Perhaps it was because his true form was a Merit Spiritual Root, naturally attuned to the earth that bore all things.
"Fellow Daoist Xuanqing, there's a reassuring quality about you," Houtu said softly. "I hope fate brings us together again."
"Certainly." Xuanqing nodded.
Making a connection with the future Empress Houtu was an incredible stroke of good fortune.
Those few brief exchanges had drawn sidelong glances from quite a few of the mighty figures nearby.
For Houtu, one of the Ancestral Witches, to take the initiative to show him goodwill—this First Disciple of Yuanshi was apparently even more extraordinary than they'd imagined.
Dijun and Kunpeng looked especially grim.
How had this kid managed to get involved with the Witch Clan too?
Xuanqing paid no further attention to the varied looks around him. He nodded amiably to Houtu, then turned and stepped through the gates of Zixiao Palace.
Space and time shifted, and the scene before him opened up into a vast expanse.
The palace held an boundless space beyond time and space. Dao Runes evolved of their own accord in the air, while Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind constantly came into being and vanished. The sight was profound and mysterious.
On the dais straight ahead sat an ancient Daoist, his figure indistinct. He seemed to have been there since time immemorial, merged with all of Chaos.
Hongjun Dao Ancestor!
Xuanqing's heart tightened. Was this the ultimate powerhouse of the Primordial World? His presence was indeed extraordinary.
The moment Xuanqing stepped inside, Hongjun on the dais seemed to sense him and cast a casual glance his way.
That one look seemed to pierce Xuanqing's soul. He felt like a naked man, laid completely bare.
Fortunately, the gaze lingered for only an instant before moving away, as though Hongjun had merely noticed something mildly unusual and wasn't particularly interested.
Xuanqing secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then couldn't help grumbling inwardly, Big shot, cut me some slack. Don't just use X-ray vision on people.
He looked around and realized he really was rather late.
At the very front of the palace stood six purple Prayer Mats.
His master, Yuanshi Tianzun, along with his Senior Grand Uncle, Taishang Laojun, and his Third Martial Uncle, Tongtian Cult Leader, were already seated on the first three mats, meditating with their eyes closed.
Behind them, top-tier powerhouses like Dijun, Taiyi, Nüwa, and Fuxi had also found places to sit.
Farther back, the crowd grew dense. They were Innate Godly Beings from all over the Primordial World, with cultivation levels both high and low.
By order of arrival, Xuanqing could only look for a seat near the back.
Just as he was about to find an empty corner, a voice sounded in his mind.
"Xuanqing, come sit behind me."
It was Yuanshi Tianzun!
Xuanqing's heart leaped with joy, and he hurried toward the front.
Countless gazes instantly focused on him—some curious, some puzzled, and some disdainful. A Mystic Immortal dared to walk all the way to the front?
Xuanqing ignored them and went straight to the spot behind Yuanshi Tianzun's Prayer Mat.
Yuanshi Tianzun didn't open his eyes. He simply sent a calm transmission: "Sit. This is the Dao Ancestor's Dojo. Just listen in peace. With me here, no one will dare touch you."
"Thank you, Master!"
Warmth surged through Xuanqing's heart. He bowed respectfully, then sat cross-legged behind Yuanshi Tianzun.
Though he wasn't on one of the six Prayer Mats, his place was still farther forward than most, right beside the future Heavenly Dao Sages.
The gazes around him grew even more complicated.
Especially those of Dijun and Kunpeng.
Kunpeng's eyes were venomous as he stared at Xuanqing, wishing he could rush over and devour him alive.
Dijun, meanwhile, grew solemn.
His thoughts raced. Yuanshi thinks that highly of this kid? In front of all the mighty figures of the Primordial World, he actually let him sit behind him.
What did a mere Mystic Immortal have that made Kunpeng covet him so much—and Yuanshi protect him so fiercely?
Dijun began to reconsider his deal with Kunpeng. Was it really worth offending a disciple so highly regarded by Yuanshi Tianzun over an uncertain position as Demon Master?
He felt as though he'd walked into a trap.
Just then, several more powerful auras entered Zixiao Palace.
One newcomer wore an apricot-yellow Daoist robe and had a kindly face. An Innate Spiritual Root, a Ginseng Fruit Tree, shimmered in and out of sight within the Auspicious Cloud above his head. He was none other than Zhenyuanzi of Wuzhuang Temple on Longevity Mountain.
Beside him was a red-faced, plump Daoist with a genial smile. He looked harmless and amiable—the First Good Man of Honghuang, Daoist Hongyun.
On the other side, a streak of blood-red light flashed, and Ancestor Minghe appeared. He was surrounded by killing intent, and every living being in his path hurried aside. He swept a cold glance around, then found a secluded corner and sat down alone.
The Twelve Ancestral Mages strode in boldly as well. Disdaining the Prayer Mats, they simply found an open patch of floor and sat down, forming a world of their own.
As time passed, more and more mighty figures arrived at Zixiao Palace, until their numbers gradually approached three thousand.
Just as the palace gates were about to close, two figures stumbled inside.
One had a face full of sorrow, as though every grief in the world had settled there. The other also looked troubled, but deep in his eyes lurked a shrewdness and cunning.
Their clothes were ragged, and their auras feeble. They looked like a pair of beggars fleeing for their lives.
They were Jieyin and Zunti, who had journeyed all the way from the distant, barren Western Lands.
When Luo Hou self-destructed, he destroyed the Spiritual Veins of the Western Lands, leaving the brothers as the poorest top-tier powerhouses in the Primordial World. They had come to Zixiao Palace hoping to change their fate and revitalize the West.
As soon as they entered the palace, their eyes locked onto the six Prayer Mats at the front.
They immediately understood that these mats were an enormous opportunity!
Zunti rolled his eyes, took Jieyin by the arm, and hurried over to the Three Pure Ones.
He bowed deeply before them and squeezed out a smile more pitiful than a grimace. "Esteemed fellow Daoists, the two of us have come from the West, where spiritual energy is scarce and treasures are nowhere to be found. We've endured untold hardships on our journey in pursuit of the Great Dao. Our lives have truly been miserable."
Taishang Laojun kept his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious, immersed in a state of non-action.
Tongtian Cult Leader glanced at them and curled his lip in disdain, but said nothing. He believed in teaching without discrimination, but he couldn't bring himself to like people who immediately played up their misfortunes to beg for benefits.
Seeing this, Zunti steeled himself and prepared to push harder, putting on another show.
But Yuanshi Tianzun, seated in the middle, couldn't even be bothered to lift an eyelid. His lips moved slightly, and he uttered a single, icy word.
"Get lost!"
Their faces instantly turned deathly pale. Faint snickers rose from those around them.
The brothers Dijun and Taiyi watched with glee, while the Twelve Ancestral Mages burst into unrestrained laughter.
Jieyin and Zunti were left speechless by that one word, their faces flushed dark red. They knew there was no chance of getting anything out of the Three Pure Ones.
But they didn't give up.
Zunti slowly turned his gaze toward the three figures seated on the Prayer Mats nearby.
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