The ones seated above were Nüwa, Hong Yun, and Kunpeng.
Just then, Kunpeng seemed uncomfortable after sitting cross-legged for so long. He rose slightly to stretch his limbs, preparing to settle into a more comfortable position.
It was at that very moment!
Jieyin, who had worn a look of constant suffering, suddenly flashed with brilliance in his eyes. He moved with incredible speed, and before Kunpeng could react, he dropped straight into the seat!
His movements were smooth and fluid, without the slightest hesitation.
Kunpeng was completely stunned.
He'd only wanted to change positions. How had his seat disappeared?
"You!" Kunpeng came to his senses and flew into a rage, pointing at Jieyin's nose. "How dare you! You stole my seat!"
Jieyin settled himself firmly, his face once again wearing that compassionate expression. He pressed his palms together.
"Fellow Daoist, you're mistaken. This seat belonged to no one; it goes to whoever is destined for it. I saw you rise and leave, and assumed you had given it up, so I sat down. How can you call that stealing?"
He spoke with such righteous conviction that Kunpeng trembled with rage.
"Bullshit! When did I ever say I was giving it up? I was only..."
"Fellow Daoist, this is the Dao Ancestor's Dojo. How can you use such foul language?" Jieyin interrupted him, his face full of anguished dismay. "We have both come here seeking the Dao. Why quarrel endlessly over a Prayer Mat and lose all dignity?"
"You... You shameless bastard!" Kunpeng's Demonic Qi roiled, and he wanted nothing more than to attack him on the spot.
But he glanced at Hongjun Dao Ancestor, sitting motionless on the high platform, then at Zhunti, who was watching him warily from nearby. He forced himself to swallow his anger.
To start a fight on the Dao Ancestor's turf was to invite death.
Besides, Yuanshi had already reprimanded him. If he caused trouble again, he certainly wouldn't get off lightly.
Kunpeng could only swallow his humiliation, glare venomously at Jieyin, and silently retreat to the side.
And so, Jieyin resolved the whole commotion in a way that was almost shameless.
Xuanqing watched from behind, dumbfounded.
Good grief. That was a textbook case of faking an accident and then using moral blackmail. Poor old Kunpeng—had he left home without checking the almanac? He'd been getting humiliated one time after another.
With Kunpeng out of the way, Zhunti's target became clear.
He looked at the two remaining Prayer Mats.
One belonged to Nüwa, a woman. No matter how shameless he was, he couldn't bring himself to fight a female cultivator for it.
That left only one target.
Daoist Hongyun, who looked kind and benevolent.
The moment Zhunti's gaze fell on Hongyun, Zhenyuanzi, sitting beside him, sensed that something was wrong. The hairs all over his body stood on end.
He hurriedly sent a voice transmission to his friend. "Hongyun, be careful of this man! Don't talk to him!"
Unfortunately, it was too late.
Zhunti had already strode over to Hongyun, covering the distance in three quick steps, then dropped to his knees with a thump.
The sight startled Hongyun and left everyone around them dumbfounded.
"Fellow Daoist, what are you doing? Please, get up!" Hongyun was kind by nature and hurried to help him up.
"If you won't agree, Fellow Daoist, I'll remain kneeling here forever!" Zhunti wept bitterly, his acting skills instantly on full display.
He launched into a tearful, snot-filled plea. "Fellow Daoist, you don't know how much suffering the Western Lands endure! Its Spiritual Veins have been destroyed, and its living beings are in misery. My senior brother and I came all this way to Zixiao Palace, enduring countless hardships, to seek the Dao and restore the Western Lands."
"All we ask is a place to hear the Dao, a seat closer to the Dao Ancestor, so that in the future we can better bring blessings to the people of the Western Lands!"
"Fellow Daoist, your compassion is renowned throughout Honghuang. Please, grant us this favor! Do it for the countless living beings in the Western Lands!"
As he spoke, he began kowtowing to Hongyun again and again.
His performance was so heartfelt and moving that it could stir anyone's soul.
Hongyun had never seen anything like it and was at a loss.
He was a good-hearted man who couldn't bear to see others suffer. Now Zhunti had placed the future of every living being in the Western Lands on his shoulders, and the Prayer Mat beneath him suddenly felt scorching hot.
"Fellow Daoist, you... get up first. We can talk this over."
"If you won't agree, I won't get up!" Zhunti declared firmly.
Zhenyuanzi, beside them, stamped his feet anxiously and sent a voice transmission. "Hongyun, don't believe him! This is moral blackmail! If you give up your seat, the Karma will be enormous!"
But Hongyun's heart was too soft.
He looked at Zhunti kneeling before him, pleading desperately, then at the strange looks from everyone around them. He felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles.
At last, he let out a long sigh.
"Alas, very well. Fellow Daoist, I admire your concern for all living beings. You may have this seat."
With that, Hongyun stood and yielded the Prayer Mat.
"Thank you for your kindness, Fellow Daoist! The countless living beings of the Western Lands will never forget your great generosity!" Zhunti was overjoyed. He hurried to his feet and dropped into the seat, afraid Hongyun might change his mind.
And so, the six seats of the Zixiao Palace were settled.
The Three Pure Ones, Nüwa, Jieyin, and Zhunti each occupied one.
Zhenyuanzi pulled Hongyun to the side, still looking bewildered. Kunpeng, meanwhile, regarded him as if he were an idiot, then turned his gaze back to Jieyin and Zhunti.
He would remember this humiliation!
The farce ended, and there was still a little time before the lecture began.
Yuanshi Tianzun's voice suddenly sounded in Xuanqing's mind.
"Xuanqing, what do you make of what just happened?"
Xuanqing's heart stirred. He knew his master was testing him. He didn't answer right away, instead organizing his thoughts.
A moment later, Xuanqing replied respectfully through a voice transmission. "Reporting to Master, this disciple believes that the allocation of the six Prayer Mats may seem accidental, but it was destined from the start."
"Oh?" A note of interest entered Yuanshi Tianzun's voice. "Tell me more."
"Master, Senior Grand Uncle, and Third Martial Uncle are the legitimate descendants of Pangu. You bear the merit of creating the world, and were born with the mission of stabilizing Honghuang's fortune and guiding its myriad beings. The first three seats could belong to none but you three. This is Heaven's will."
Yuanshi Tianzun said nothing, evidently acknowledging the point.
"Fellow Daoist Nüwa is destined to bring great merit to Honghuang. She is compassionate and has the virtue of creating all things. She, too, is an unquestionable candidate for sainthood."
"As for the two Fellow Daoists from the Western Lands..." Xuanqing paused. "Their foundations may be shallow and their origins somewhat inferior, but they have made a grand vow to deliver all suffering beings. Their character and sense of responsibility are enough to make up for their lack of pedigree."
Xuanqing continued, "This disciple dares to speculate that the first threshold for attaining sainthood may be neither cultivation nor pedigree, but four words: a heart for all living beings."
After those words, Yuanshi Tianzun fell silent for a long while.
"By contrast, Fellow Daoist Hongyun is too kind-hearted and indecisive to bear a great responsibility; Fellow Daoist Kunpeng is narrow-minded and selfish. If people of such character attained sainthood and wielded supreme authority, it would likely be a calamity for all of Honghuang, not a blessing."
"So this disciple believes that when Heaven's will chooses a saint, it first examines the heart, then the ability. Today's struggle over the Prayer Mats was merely a small test of everyone's character."
Xuanqing finished speaking and waited quietly.
After a long while, Yuanshi Tianzun's voice sounded again, carrying a note of approval.
"Good."
It was only one word, but it was enough for Xuanqing.
Just then, the entire Zixiao Palace suddenly fell silent.
An immense presence, beyond all description, spread out from the figure on the high platform.
It was as if the entire Chaos, the entire Honghuang, had submitted to him in that instant.
The Three Thousand Guests of the Red Dust—all of them, whether the Three Pure Ones or the Ancestral Witches, Di Jun and Tai Yi or Jieyin and Zhunti—stopped thinking at once and gazed solemnly toward the high platform.
The blurry figure atop it gradually came into focus.
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