Destiny's Boon; Laozi's Gaze

With the Eternal Age Hourglass deployed, Queen Mother of the West fell into sluggishness.

Had it not been for the Kunlun Mirror's protection, she would have been completely frozen in place, or even pushed back to her starting position like Bei Ming before.

Admittedly, the Kunlun Mirror possessed the Laws of Time and Space, but the restrictions it contained could not compare to the Eternal Age Hourglass.

Moreover, as a treasure originating from the Time Demon God, Shichen, it specialized in time.

Having repelled Dong Wangong, restrained Queen Mother of the West, and cleared the obstacles, Bei Ming flashed forward, charging toward the gourd vine.

Old Ancestor Ming He displayed great divine might, able to contend with Zhunti and Jieyin single-handedly, but the two sides held each other in check, neither able to break free.

Zhen Yuanzi and Fuxi exchanged one blow, then ceased to act rashly, instead tacitly entering a standoff;

This allowed Hong Yun and Nüwa to break free and go for the gourds.

In this contest, the interweaving of divine abilities was but a fleeting moment;

In an instant, the tide of victory or defeat was set.

The six who had distinguished themselves arrived before the gourd vine.

The Three Pure Ones, arriving first, each took a gourd as previously agreed, then immediately withdrew.

Bei Ming, Hong Yun, and Nüwa arrived almost simultaneously, each making their move and taking a gourd apiece.

Just as the crowd had yet to react;

Bei Ming, quick of eye and hand, swept his sleeve robe, seizing the opportunity to gather the entire gourd vine, along with the last immature little gourd, into the Returning Ruins.

In the moment of collection, Bei Ming paid special attention to the Nine Heavens' Soil wrapped around the vine's roots—this was a fine treasure.

Nine Heavens' Soil, legend said, was formed from the interweaving of Nine Heavens' Pure Qi and the essence of earth veins.

Though it appeared as only a small clump, it could grow or shrink in response to external attacks, changing with the enemy—big when you were big, small when you were small, shifting with fixed positioning, tough and dense, leaving no opening.

Furthermore, this was one of the key materials for the later creation of humanity.

The struggle over the Primordial Gourd Vine temporarily came to a close.

The residual sword light and lingering ripples of divine abilities in the void still churned without end.

But those present, whether they had obtained a gourd or lost their opportunity, all converged their fighting spirit and withdrew.

Among the six parties involved in the contest:

The Three Pure Ones each gained a gourd;

Bei Ming, Fuxi, and Nüwa's side reaped abundant rewards;

Hong Yun and Zhen Yuanzi also got what they wished for.

All three parties were fully satisfied, their expressions calm, their auras gradually settling.

Ming He was also broad-minded; the Primordial Gourds were fine, but for him, they were merely icing on the cake—if he grabbed one, he'd be happy, but if he didn't, so be it.

The only thing that could move him was an opportunity related to enlightenment.

Having enjoyed the spectacle, Ming He put away Yuan Tu and A Bi, the killing intent in his eyes fading:

"Fellow Daoists, Poor Daoist takes his leave."

As his words fell, the killing aura and karmic fire all receded, and Ming He transformed into a streak of blood light, shooting into the sky and vanishing beyond the horizon.

Zhunti and Jieyin both felt some regret in their hearts; to greatly prosper the West, they had to accumulate foundations;

The Western Continent could now be called a barren land, almost entirely lacking spiritual roots and materials;

The two of them had no choice but to cast aside the dignity of Innate Gods, sweeping through like a plague of locusts, scrounging for resources wherever they went.

Though shameful, it had thickened their skin, steeled their resolve, and tempered their optimistic mindset.

Zhunti wore his usual smile as he offered congratulations:

"Congratulations to you fellow Daoists on obtaining the spiritual root. With this matter concluded, my senior brother and I will not linger."

With that, the two flashed with golden light, their figures vanishing without a trace.

On their return journey to Mount Sumeru, they continuously made moves along the way;

Gathering up every rare flower, exotic plant, spiritual material, and strange stone they saw, and even extending salvation to any living being with decent bone structure they encountered.

These converted beings would accompany the two back to the West, becoming the foundation for its future revival.

Neither Ming He nor the two Westerners had gained any benefits, but they had lost nothing either.

In comparison, Dong Wangong's situation was far more awkward.

As an Immortal Chief, the distribution proposal he had put forward was outright rejected by a gathering of top-notch great powers, causing him to lose all face.

What's more, in the clash, he was knocked back by Bei Ming's ruler;

With two Immortal Chiefs joining forces, they couldn't even seize a single gourd.

His strength was insufficient, his prestige damaged;

In the Primordial Wilderness, where strength reigned supreme, the status of an Immortal Chief would undoubtedly be cast into shadow.

The Primordial Wilderness was vast, and every move of an Immortal Chief drew attention.

This setback would naturally be exploited by someone in the shadows to erode his authority.

The collapse of prestige often begins with small cracks, and once those cracks widen, the whole structure crumbles.

As for who that someone might be—whoever stands to gain the most from the Immortal Leader's reputation falling short of reality.

Dong Wangong's face darkened as he suppressed the frustration in his heart, cupping his hands and saying:

"Regarding the governance of Hong Huang, I still need to discuss it in detail with you fellow Daoists.

If you have the leisure, feel free to visit my East Sea Purple Mansion Continent to deliberate on grand plans. Poor Daoist will certainly prepare a warm welcome."

Having stepped into a small pitfall, Dong Wangong also calmed down, realizing that the title bestowed by the Saint was not enough to secure his position as Immortal Leader.

To truly solidify his identity, he would need to win over more powerful allies.

However, the Three Pure Ones showed no interest whatsoever.

The three of them wore indifferent expressions, not sparing a single glance back. Their robes billowed as they soared into the sky without hesitation.

Before leaving, Laozi stroked his beard with a smile, turned his head to look at Beiming, and said with deep, penetrating eyes:

"Fellow Daoist Beiming, if you have the leisure, why don't we hold a discussion on the Dao?"

Toward the only peer whose cultivation matched his own, Laozi felt a measure of interest.

Beiming's expression remained calm as he replied flatly: "If fate allows in the future, there will naturally be an opportunity."

The Head of the Three Pure Ones, Senior Brother of the Mystic Gate, the strongest Saint—among his peers, Laozi was firmly seated in first place.

But Beiming felt that if he himself refused to settle for ease in the future, no matter which path he took, as long as he lived, he would likely come into conflict with this fellow Daoist.

Laozi's beard and brows stirred as he said meaningfully: "Fate will bring it about."

With that, the Three Pure Ones used their dodge technique, and with a flash of light, they vanished in an instant.

The opportunities had all been distributed; staying any longer held no meaning. Beiming looked at Nüwa and Fuxi and said:

"Two Fellow Daoists, let's proceed as planned and meet again at Purple Cloud Palace."

Nüwa's long hair drifted gently in the wind, her eyes clear and bright. She nodded lightly and replied, "Good."

Fuxi's expression was gentle as he also cupped his hands in farewell.

Then, everyone used their dodge techniques and returned to their respective Daoist arenas, leaving only lingering spiritual light in the void.

Only Dong Wangong and the Queen Mother of the West remained where they were.

Bathed in faint rosy clouds, the Queen Mother of the West's eyes carried a hint of cold detachment, as if she had seen through the ways of the world. She spoke slowly:

"Fellow Daoist, it seems the Path of the Immortal Leader is still very long."

Dong Wangong's gaze sharpened, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes as he said firmly:

"The entrustment of the Saint cannot be betrayed! With the two of us working together, we will surely carve out a great enterprise!"

The Queen Mother of the West gazed into the distant Sea of Clouds and said slowly:

"In any case, during the Saint's lecture, it's best not to stir up too much trouble.

Time is limited; the urgent task is to consolidate our cultivation. The title of Immortal Leader ultimately needs strength to support it."

"I am well aware of that." Dong Wangong lifted his head slightly. "In Hong Huang, there are few stronger than the two of us.

Most of them remain neutral and unwilling to interfere.

Before our forces have fully risen, there's no need to clash with them. Once we command all Immortals, we can overwhelm them with sheer momentum."