Zixiao Palace

Chapter 39: Zixiao Palace

The gate opened.

As silently as that, the two ancient-looking wooden doors slid inward, revealing a bluestone pathway behind them. There was no dazzling light, no celestial music, not even the creak of the opening doors, which was as faint as an illusion.

Of the hundred or so people at the entrance, no one moved for a moment.

They looked at each other, the atmosphere incredibly subtle. It wasn't out of politeness—at their level, when it came to a real fight for treasures, no one would hold back—but rather because the gate had just opened, and the situation inside was still unclear. Whoever entered first would become the scout.

Taiyi stood beside Di Jun, his eyes scanning the crowd.

On the side of the Three Pure Ones, Laozi's eyelids drooped as if he were dozing. Yuanshi stood with his hands behind his back, his chin slightly raised, his gaze sweeping over the heads of the crowd with a hint of disdain for these "commoners." Tongtian, however, was full of interest, tilting his head to examine the pathway inside the gate, a smile playing on his lips.

Jieyin and Zhunti stood closest to the gate. Zhunti's eyeballs spun like tops, darting from the inside of the gate to the surroundings, his feet itching to move, yet he didn't step forward. Jieyin stood half a step behind him, his hands clasped together, chanting silently, his sorrowful expression as if someone owed him eight hundred strings of cash.

Hongyun and Zhen Yuanzi stood a little further back. Hongyun's kind old face was full of hesitation. He looked at the gate, then at the crowd, his lips moving as if he wanted to say, "Why don't we go in first?" But Zhen Yuanzi gently tugged his sleeve, and he swallowed the words back.

Styx remained in his corner, his blood-red daoist robe unmoving in the chaotic airflow. His eyelids were lowered as if he were asleep, but Taiyi could sense that the old monster's divine sense was spreading out like a spiderweb, meticulously sifting through the area in front of the gate.

"Heh."

A light laugh broke the stalemate.

Tongtian moved.

The Shangqing Daoist walked with such ease, his sleeves fluttering, his steps unhurried, as if he were strolling through his own backyard. He passed through the crowd, stepped onto the bluestone pathway, and didn't even look back.

Only then did Laozi and Yuanshi follow. Laozi walked at a steady pace, each step as if measured by a ruler, firm and precise. Yuanshi maintained his composure, his back perfectly straight, his gaze sweeping over the sides with a condescending scrutiny.

As soon as the Three Pure Ones moved, everyone else came alive.

Jieyin and Zhunti stepped forward almost simultaneously—these two had feigned hesitation earlier, unwilling to be the first to enter, but now they rushed forward faster than anyone. Hongyun was gently pushed forward by Zhen Yuanzi, and he walked forward in a daze. Styx had moved somewhere by then, blending into the crowd, inconspicuous.

"Let's go," Di Jun said in a low voice.

Taiyi nodded and followed his brother into Zixiao Palace.

The moment he stepped onto the bluestone pathway, the feeling changed entirely.

Outside was chaos, disorder, and laws like shattered mirrors scattered everywhere; inside, it was like entering another world. The spiritual energy flowing in the air was terrifyingly pure. Taking a breath, every pore in his body felt comfortable. The light shone from somewhere, not dazzling, not dim, just a perfect softness that illuminated the entire pathway as if it were immersed in warm water.

Taiyi took a deep breath and could feel the True Sun Fire circulating within him becoming smoother—it wasn't that the spiritual energy had become denser, but that the laws of heaven and earth here were more "streamlined" and "in harmony with the Dao."

He walked and observed.

The sides of the pathway were smooth, white stone walls, devoid of carvings or inscriptions. But upon closer inspection, one could see extremely fine patterns slowly flowing within the stone walls, like underwater plants swaying gracefully. These were the manifestations of the laws of heaven and earth here, the natural flow of Dao Rhyme.

The further he walked, the more obvious the feeling of being "watched" became.

It wasn't a specific person watching him, but the entire palace, this space, and even the vast Heavenly Dao Origin deeper within, were silently observing every living being that entered. Taiyi could feel the Karma Threads around him becoming exceptionally clear here, extending outwards like a spiderweb and intertwining with others.

He subconsciously glanced at Nuwa.

Nuwa walked beside Fuxi, her steps light. She didn't look at the stone walls on either side, her gaze fixed on the depths of the great hall ahead, her focused expression tinged with… understanding. Taiyi noticed that the void around her seemed exceptionally "smooth" here, the subtle ripples of the laws perfectly harmonizing with the palace's own Dao Rhyme, spreading naturally like ink dropped into clear water.

The signs of her impending sainthood were even more apparent here.

As he was thinking, the pathway reached its end.

His vision suddenly opened up.

The great hall was much more spacious than Taiyi remembered. Thirty-six coiling dragon pillars supported the high dome. The pillars were entirely black, but the dragon patterns carved on their surfaces emitted a faint golden light. Gems were embedded in the dragon's eyes, occasionally flashing with spiritual light. The floor was paved with white jade bricks with cloud patterns, the bricks fitting together seamlessly, so tightly that not even a strand of hair could be inserted between them.

At the very front was a high platform with a dao seat, currently empty. The dao seat was carved from a single piece of green jade, its style so simple it was almost shabby, but placed there, it became the center of the entire hall, drawing everyone's gaze.

Below the dao seat, six futons were arranged in an arc.

They were ordinary straw-woven futons, looking even a bit rough, appearing out of place in this magnificent hall. But Taiyi knew how much karma was tied to those six positions.

Quite a few people were already standing in the hall.

The Three Pure Ones, who had entered first, stood in the front left position. Laozi closed his eyes to rest, Yuanshi stood with his hands behind his back, and Tongtian looked up at the dome of the hall—a phantom star map hung there, the stars slowly revolving, their trajectories profoundly enigmatic.

Jieyin and Zhunti stood on the right, close to the futons. Zhunti's eyeballs seemed glued to the fifth futon, darting glances at it from time to time. Jieyin clasped his hands together, chanting silently, but his eyelids were lowered, his peripheral vision also scanning those positions.

Hongyun and Zhen Yuanzi stood a little further back. Hongyun was clearly restless now, looking at the futons and then at the crowd, unsure where to put his hands. Zhen Yuanzi stood behind him, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder, as if to comfort or perhaps restrain him.

Styx had slipped into a corner of the hall at some point, his blood-red daoist robe particularly striking against the plain white background. He leaned against a dragon pillar, his eyelids lowered as if dozing, but Taiyi could sense that the old monster's divine sense was spreading out like a spiderweb, meticulously sifting through the entire scene.

Di Jun led the four of them to a spot—mid-left, neither too close nor too far from the futons, with a clear view but not conspicuous.

After finding his position, Taiyi began to silently adjust his state.

He suppressed the slight weakness from his injuries to the deepest level, the True Sun Fire circulating slowly within him, maintaining his outward aura without being overly ostentatious. At the same time, following the methods recorded in the ancient secret technique, he began to vibrate his Primordial Spirit at a specific frequency.

With this vibration, his perception immediately changed.

The originally blurry Karma Threads in the hall were now as clear as if seen with the naked eye. He could "see" the karma extending from each person—the Karma Threads of the Three Pure Ones were solid as iron chains, tightly connected to a vast existence in the depths of the void. The Karma Threads of Jieyin and Zhunti were much thinner but intertwined very tightly, connecting with each other and faintly echoing with the earth veins of the west.

Hongyun's Karma Thread… Taiyi's gaze sharpened.

Among the Karma Threads extending from Hongyun, one was particularly thick and bright, connecting to the second futon. But that thread was now trembling violently, like a taut guitar string, about to snap at any moment.

Was this the manifestation of the karma of the futon?

Taiyi's heart stirred. He continued to observe and saw the Karma Threads extending from himself—most were tightly entwined with Di Jun and the Demon Race, but a few thin, almost invisible threads were quietly reaching towards the futon area.

These were the traces left by his deductions and plans over the past few days, the "possibilities" that had yet to occur.

He quickly gathered his thoughts and suppressed those threads. It wasn't time yet.

More and more people filled the hall.

Dozens more entered one after another, all renowned and influential figures of the Great Wilderness. Some exuded a murderous aura, clearly having emerged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood; others had hidden presences, appearing like ordinary old farmers, yet their gazes sent chills down one's spine. A few were so unfamiliar that even Taiyi couldn't recognize them, like ancient monsters emerging from seclusion in some forgotten mountain ravine.

Roughly counting, two to three hundred people had gathered in the hall.

With so many beings at the Grand Unity Golden Immortal level or above crammed together, one would expect the air to be charged with energy and the pressure to be terrifying. Yet, in reality, the hall was eerily quiet, with even the sound of breathing so faint it was almost inaudible. Everyone was restraining themselves, holding back—in a place like Zixiao Palace, no one dared to be presumptuous.

The atmosphere grew heavier.

Taiyi could feel the Dao Rhyme in the air slowly intensifying, surging in waves like the tide, pressing down on everyone's hearts. It was the Heavenly Dao's might accumulating, waiting for the person seated on the Dao throne to descend.

His gaze swept across the entire hall, finally landing on Nuwa.

Nuwa's current state was interesting. She stood very relaxed, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze calmly fixed on the empty Dao throne ahead. But the space around her, those subtle ripples of laws, were currently resonating with the Dao Rhyme pervading the hall in a peculiar way...

Not resisting, nor conforming, but vibrating in unison.

Like two water waves of the same frequency meeting, creating a more harmonious rhythm. Taiyi could even "see" the Dao Rhyme of Creation spontaneously condensing in the void around Nuwa, transforming into illusory green lotuses that bloomed and withered in an instant.

Fuxi stood beside her, holding the Eight Trigrams disk. The Yin-Yang fish on its surface rotated slowly, subtly echoing the Dao Rhyme around his sister. The siblings stood together, their energies intertwined, exuding a natural harmony.

Di Jun suddenly nudged Taiyi's arm.

Taiyi turned his head and saw his brother gesturing with his eyes towards the right—towards Jieyin and Zhunti.

Zhunti had moved forward half a step at some point and was now only three steps away from the fifth cushion. Although Jieyin remained in his original spot, he slightly adjusted his clasped hands and leaned forward, his body's center of gravity shifted, like a drawn bow.

"It's about to get windy," Di Jun's voice reached Taiyi's ears, so faint it was almost inaudible.

Taiyi nodded, remaining silent.

He quietly watched Jieyin and Zhunti, observing the undisguised longing in the eyes of those two Western Sect powerhouses. Then he looked at Hongyun—the kind old man was now sweating profusely, and Zhen Yuanzi's hand on his shoulder was noticeably tightening.

He then glanced at the Three Pure Ones. Laozi still had his eyes closed, resting. Yuanshi had a faint, cold smile playing on his lips, while Tongtian stood with his arms crossed, looking like he was waiting to watch a good show.

Styx was still leaning against a dragon-carved pillar, his blood-red Daoist robe unmoving. However, Taiyi could sense that this old monster's attention was entirely focused on the area of the cushions.

Others in the hall, some with eyes focused on their noses and minds in meditation; others with flickering gazes, darting between several key figures; still others standing in the back, quietly communicating with their divine senses, plotting something unknown.

This was the elite circle of the Great Wilderness.

Normally, these powerful beings were scattered across the Great Wilderness, either guarding their territories or in reclusive cultivation, rarely meeting each other. But once the bell of Zixiao Palace chimed, everyone would set aside their affairs and travel through the chaos to arrive. Here, one could find almost all the top existences of the Great Wilderness—the Three Pure Ones, the Two Sages of the West, the Demon Emperor, the Ancestral Witches (though the Witch Race wasn't present this time), Styx, Zhen Yuanzi, Hongyun...

On the surface, everyone was polite, nodding greetings and exchanging pleasantries like "Fellow Daoist, it has been a while." But underneath, everyone harbored their own calculations, sizing up the strengths and weaknesses of others, all preparing for the impending struggle for the cushions—and even for the greater Calamities to come.

Taiyi took a deep breath, suppressing his distracting thoughts.

He adjusted his stance, making himself appear more relaxed. The True Sun Fire flowed gently within him, maintaining the Eastern Emperor's imposing aura without being overly ostentatious. His gaze calmly fixed on the empty Dao throne ahead, like everyone else, awaiting the Dao Ancestor's arrival.

The calm before the storm was the most arduous.

Time in the hall seemed to freeze. Each breath was stretched, long enough to hear one's own heartbeat. The Dao Rhyme in the air grew denser, making it difficult to breathe. The Karma Threads in the void trembled violently, weaving into an infinitely complex net.

Everyone was waiting.

Waiting for Hongjun to appear, for the sermon to begin, for... the inevitable struggle for the cushions.

Just then—

On the high Dao throne, a figure silently materialized.

There were no spatial fluctuations, no ripples of spiritual energy, as if he had always been there, and no one had simply noticed him before.

Hongjun.

The Dao Ancestor wore a plain gray Daoist robe, his hair loosely tied, his face expressionless. He sat on the green jade Dao throne, his eyelids lowered, as if he hadn't woken up yet.

But everyone in the hall held their breath simultaneously at that moment.

A vast, abyss-like Heavenly Dao pressure emanated from the direction of the Dao throne, enveloping the entire hall. It wasn't oppressive or intimidating, just a pure sense of presence—like standing on the edge of a ten-thousand-zhang cliff, looking down into an unfathomable abyss, naturally feeling one's own insignificance.

Hongjun slowly raised his eyelids.

His gaze swept over the crowd below, calm and indifferent, like looking at a swarm of ants.

The atmosphere in the hall reached its breaking point.