Preparing Paradox

The sun slanted into the Sun Palace, illuminating Taiyi as he stared intently at a distorted ball of light floating in his palm.

The golden-red True Sun Fire hovered three inches above his palm. What should have been a pure, blazing flame was currently exhibiting a strange, fluid state—the edges of the fire flickered between clarity and blurriness, the regular radiation of light and heat disrupted. Occasionally, there were even brief "reversals," as if time itself had momentarily stuttered within the small space enveloped by the flames.

This was the foundational application of that ancient secret art: using one's own Dao rhythm as a guide to briefly mimic the "disordered state of the Heavenly Dao."

Taiyi stared at the flames for a long while before suddenly clenching his fist.

The flames extinguished, and the normal distribution of light and shadow returned to the hall. He looked down at his palm, where a faint spatial turbulence remained, like ripples just spreading across the surface of water.

"A range of three feet, lasting at most three breaths," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Still too short."

There were twenty-two days left until the lecture at Zixiao Palace.

During these twenty-two days, he needed to refine this lackluster secret art to a point where it could be useful in a critical moment. At the same time, he had to adjust his body to be in a state suitable for the occasion at Zixiao Palace—after all, at a place like that, even the slightest weakness could be seen as an opening by others.

Footsteps sounded outside the hall door, their rhythm steady and strong. Taiyi recognized who it was without looking up. He merely reached out and brushed across the jade desk, erasing the scattered traces of his deductions.

"How is your injury?" Di Jun's voice echoed from the doorway.

Taiyi looked up and saw his elder brother standing there in a bright yellow casual robe, without any attendants, having come alone. His face was expressionless, but Taiyi could see the scrutiny deep within his eyes—that unique gaze of Di Jun's, seemingly calm yet having already taken in every detail.

"I won't die," Taiyi pulled at the corner of his mouth and rose from the warming jade bed. "In a few more days, I should recover to ninety percent."

Di Jun walked in and sat down at the desk. He didn't speak immediately, first surveying the furnishings in the hall, his gaze lingering for a moment on the nearly withered "Sun Flame Grass" by the window—it had been inadvertently affected by Taiyi's secret art experiments a few days prior.

"What are you practicing?" Di Jun suddenly asked.

Taiyi's heart tightened slightly, but his expression remained unchanged. "An auxiliary method for regulating meridians. The hidden injuries left by the Blood Fiend Power are difficult to remove, and ordinary methods are too slow."

This was a half-truth, half-lie. The secret art could indeed assist in regulating disordered meridians, but its primary function was far beyond that.

Di Jun stared at him for a few breaths, then didn't press further, instead saying, "The lecture at Zixiao Palace, are you sure you want to go?"

"I must go," Taiyi replied without hesitation. "Not only must I go, but I must sit in the front."

"Why?" Di Jun's voice was very calm. "You were just seriously injured in an attack; recuperating in seclusion is the best course of action. A place like Zixiao Palace... has too many variables."

Taiyi sat down opposite his brother and reached for the teapot on the desk, pouring a cup of water. It was ordinary spiritual spring water, but in an environment like the Sun Palace, it quickly began to emit a faint white mist.

"Precisely because there are many variables, I must go," he said, holding the warm teacup and speaking slowly. "Big Brother, what do you think this lecture is for?"

"To expound on the path of the Quasi-Saint, paving the way for the future."

"Yes and no," Taiyi shook his head. "Hongjun has been one with the Dao for a long time. His lecture is less about imparting knowledge and more about... 'setting rules.' Setting the path for Quasi-Saints, setting the framework for future Saints, setting the grand momentum of the Great Wilderness for countless eons to come."

He paused, looking at the rising steam in his cup. "At a time like this, whoever is absent will be excluded from the rules. The Demon Race already has Kunpeng who missed the chance to become a Saint last time. If I don't go this time, how much say will the Demon Race have in future Quasi-Saint and even Saint positions?"

Di Jun fell silent.

Taiyi continued, "Moreover, Styx and Di Jiang have already joined forces to test us. If I back down now, what will they do next? What will other observing forces think? They'll think the Eastern Emperor of the Demon Race is scared, that the Demon Race can be bullied. Then, forget about having a voice at Zixiao Palace; even the existing territory of the Heavenly Court might have people wanting to carve out a piece for themselves."

He spoke these words very slowly, each word seemingly carefully chosen. But only he knew that beneath these words lay a deeper scheme—he had to go to Zixiao Palace because it was the only opportunity to complete the System's "act of rebellion." And this rebellion would be his first step in escaping the Heavenly Dao's script.

But he couldn't tell Di Jun these things. Not yet, at least.

"You are right," Di Jun finally spoke after a long while, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "The Demon Race cannot afford to lose. But your safety..."

"I will be careful," Taiyi interrupted him. "And I'm not going alone this time. Fuxi and Nuwa will accompany me. Bai Ze has already gone to contact them. With their support, and with you here, no matter how dangerous Zixiao Palace is, they won't kill me on the spot."

Di Jun stared at his brother for a long time, then suddenly said, "You've changed."

Taiyi's heart skipped a beat, but he feigned appropriate confusion. "Hm?"

"The you of the past wouldn't think so much," Di Jun said slowly. "You would say, 'It's just Zixiao Palace, I'll go if I go,' and then rush over with the Chaos Bell. But now... you calculate, you weigh, you consider the gains and losses of every step."

Taiyi lowered his eyelids, staring at his reflection on the surface of the water in the cup. The steam blurred his features, and the face belonging to the Eastern Emperor Taiyi twisted slightly in the ripples.

"People always change," he said softly. "Especially after nearly dying once."

This statement was half-true, half-false. The change was real, but the reason for the change was something Di Jun would never guess.

A brief silence fell upon the hall. The True Sun Fire sea churned outside the window, and the crackling sound of flames exploding occasionally drifted in—the Sun Palace's grand formation was automatically adjusting energy flow.

"What do you plan to do?" Di Jun finally asked the crucial question.

Taiyi raised his eyes, a glint flashing in his golden irises. "The cushions."

"Cushions?"

"There are six cushions at Zixiao Palace, their ownership already decided during the last lecture," Taiyi said slowly. "The Three Pure Ones, Nuwa, Jieyin, and Zhunti. But this lecture is different; it's about the path of the Quasi-Saint, involving future Saint positions. The karma of those six cushions... will be quite interesting."

Di Jun frowned. "You want to interfere with the ownership of the cushions? That was decided by Hongjun, it involves too much."

"No, I won't interfere," Taiyi shook his head. "I just want to... make certain things happen more 'naturally' at the right time."

He didn't say it explicitly, but Di Jun understood—this was about making subtle adjustments to the details, without altering the overall trend, to gain more space and leverage for himself and the Demon Race.

"Do you have confidence?" Di Jun asked.

"Fifty percent," Taiyi answered truthfully. "Zixiao Palace is Hongjun's home ground; any scheme carries the risk of being seen through. But some things, even with only a ten percent chance, must be tried."

Di Jun stared at him for a long while, then suddenly smiled. It was a smile Taiyi hadn't seen in a long time, tinged with helplessness and relief.

"You've truly grown up," Di Jun said, standing up and patting his brother's shoulder. "Since you've thought it through, then do it. I will make arrangements on the Heavenly Court's side. During the lecture, all the Demon Race's forces will remain on high alert. If... if something truly happens, at least we can bring you back."

"Thank you, Big Brother."

Di Jun walked to the palace entrance and stopped again, looking back at Taiyi. "Remember, coming back alive is more important than anything. Cushions, opportunities, they can be fought for again. You only have one life."

With that, he pushed the door open and left.

Taiyi sat in place, watching the door close again, motionless for a long time.

The cup of water in his palm had gone cold. He looked down at the water's surface, his reflection becoming clear—it was the face of Eastern Emperor Taiyi, heroic and defiant, with complex emotions hidden deep in his eyes that even he couldn't articulate.

"Coming back alive..." he murmured the four words, then suddenly smiled, a smile tinged with an indefinable meaning.

He drank the cold water in one gulp, set down the cup, and sat down cross-legged on the warming jade bed again.

Closing his eyes, he focused his mind.

In his sea of consciousness, he began to deduce the scene in Zixiao Palace—not with the System's help, but purely through his own memory and calculations. He had been to Zixiao Palace twice; the first time to hear the Dao of Grand Unity, the second time for the foundation of a Quasi-Saint. He remembered every scene, everyone's position, and the characteristics of every space with perfect clarity.

The arrangement of the six cushions, the distance to the high platform, the gradient distribution of the Heavenly Dao's pressure within the hall, even the entanglement of Karma Threads around each cushion...

Fragments of memory reassembled in his consciousness, gradually piecing together a complete inner view of Zixiao Palace. Taiyi's spiritual power traversed the scene, simulating various possibilities:

If he followed the original Heavenly Dao script, what would happen in this sermon?

Hongyun would offer his seat to Zhunti—that was certain. With Hongyun's good-natured personality and Zhunti's ability to cry and act, the seat changing hands was almost inevitable.

But what about the process of the seat changing hands?

Taiyi carefully recalled the records of the Great Wilderness he had read in his past life. The details were vague, only stating that "Zhunti cried and pleaded for the seat, and Hongyun got up to yield." But how exactly did he cry? How did he plead? And under what circumstances did Hongyun get up?

These details were the space for manipulation.

He continued his deductions.

When the cushion changed hands, the Karma Threads would fluctuate violently. Hongyun yielding the opportunity to become a Saint was an act of such great karma that it could disturb the local Heavenly Dao order in Zixiao Palace for a short time. And at that very moment, if some "accident" were to occur...

For example, if a certain cushion were "accidentally" knocked over?

Or, at the moment the cushion fell, a faint but special Dao charm fluctuation spread out, briefly distorting perception within a three-foot radius?

Taiyi opened his eyes, and True Sun Fire flared up in his palm again. This time, the flames did not appear chaotic but began to simulate another state—simulating the form and rhythm the flames should have under the Heavenly Dao pressure that enveloped Zixiao Palace.

The flames shifted slowly in his palm, sometimes condensing into golden lotuses, sometimes scattering like flowing clouds. Taiyi focused all his attention on controlling the direction of every wisp of flame, attempting to integrate it into the imagined Zixiao Palace environment as much as possible while maintaining the essence of the True Sun Fire.

This was a delicate task, much more difficult than simply imitating a chaotic state. This was because the Heavenly Dao pressure in Zixiao Palace was not static; it would fluctuate with the progress of the sermon, with Hongjun's emotions, and with the states of the listeners present.

Taiyi needed to predict these fluctuations and build corresponding models in his mind. This was not something the System could do—the System could only provide information and limited deductive support; the actual calculations and simulations had to be done by him.

Time trickled by.

The sun moved from the east to the meridian outside the window, then slowly began to set in the west. The light in the hall shifted, casting changing shadows on Taiyi's face.

The flames in his palm had transformed into three hundred and seventy-two forms, corresponding to three hundred and seventy-two possible states of Heavenly Dao pressure in Zixiao Palace. But this was not enough, far from it.

In the real Zixiao Palace, there were too many variables. A single glance from Hongjun, a telepathic exchange between the Three Pure Ones, or even a spiritual energy fluctuation when a listener achieved a breakthrough could cause subtle changes in the Heavenly Dao pressure.

Taiyi took a deep breath and dispersed the flames in his palm.

He needed a more efficient method.

Closing his eyes, he focused his mind, his consciousness sinking deep into his sea of consciousness. There, three Dao flowers floated quietly, representing the path he had walked in the Grand Unity realm. Below the Dao flowers, the phantom image of the Chaos Bell vibrated slightly, emitting an ancient Dao rhythm that suppressed time and space.

The Chaos Bell...

Taiyi suddenly thought of something.

The Chaos Bell was a Primordial Treasure that contained part of the laws of time and space from the creation of the world. Zixiao Palace, as a manifestation of the Heavenly Dao, had a spatial structure that was undoubtedly different from other places in the Great Wilderness, but ultimately, it was still derived from the world structure after the creation of heaven and earth.

If he could use the Chaos Bell's perception of time and space, perhaps he could establish a spatial model of Zixiao Palace more quickly.

No sooner said than done.

With a slight movement of Taiyi's mind, the phantom image of the Chaos Bell in his sea of consciousness trembled gently. A faint bell wave rippled outward, not a true bell sound, but a resonance at the level of laws.

As the bell wave spread, Taiyi's perception of the surrounding space sharpened severalfold. He could "see" the energy flow of every formation pattern in the Sun Palace, "hear" the rhythm of every burst of flame in the True Sun Fire sea, and even faintly sense the operational rhythm of the Heavenly Court's Grand Zhou formation in the distance.

This was the power of a Primordial Treasure.

He guided this perception and began to deduce the spatial characteristics of Zixiao Palace in reverse—since they belonged to the same Great Wilderness, and since they were all built upon the world structure after the creation of heaven and earth, some fundamental laws must be common.

Time continued to flow.

When night fell, Taiyi finally opened his eyes. A flash of enlightenment flickered in his golden irises, along with unconcealed fatigue.

It was done.

Although it was only a crude model, and many variables could not yet be incorporated, he had at least established a deductive framework capable of simulating seventy percent of Zixiao Palace's environmental characteristics.

Within this framework, he could rehearse various possibilities, calculate the optimal timing for intervention when the Karma Threads of the cushions were in turmoil, and deduce which position he should stand in and at what angle to "accidentally" knock over the cushion to make everything appear most natural.

The rest was repeated practice until his body formed instinctive reactions.

Taiyi rose from the warming jade bed and walked to the open space in the hall.

He closed his eyes, imagining himself already in Zixiao Palace—before him was the high platform and Dao seat, to his left and right were the great powers listening to the Dao, and behind him was the swirling chaotic energy.

He took a step forward.

The rhythm of his steps, the angle of his landing, the shift in his center of gravity... every detail required calculation. Because in an environment like Zixiao Palace, any slight incoordination could attract attention.

One step, two steps, three steps...

Taiyi paced slowly within the hall, pausing at times, turning at others, and striking poses as if in conversation with someone. He was completely immersed in his deductions, as if he were truly present at the grand sermon that was soon to take place.

Outside the window, moonlight spilled down, casting a silver sheen over the Sun Palace.

The figure inside the hall continued to move, over and over, tirelessly repeating those seemingly simple yet incredibly precise actions.

There were twenty-one days left until the sermon at Zixiao Palace.

Time was running out.