A Glance from the Dao Ancestor

The lecture had only been underway for three days.

Taiyi had been counting in his heart. From the moment Hongjun said, "This lecture will last three years," exactly three days had passed. There was no cycle of sun and moon within Zixiao Palace, only the Star Chart upon the dome slowly turning. Yet he possessed an almost instinctive sense of time passing—a habit developed in his previous life as a programmer, which had made him especially sensitive to keeping time.

For the past three days, Hongjun had been explaining the method of entrusting the Three Corpses. He began with the most basic choice of spiritual treasures, then moved on to methods of nurturing them and matters requiring caution. The Dao Ancestor's voice was like a steadily flowing river, unruffled yet capable of suppressing every other sound. Of the two or three hundred people in the hall, most had entered meditation by now. Dao rhythm flowed around them as they immersed themselves in the profound true meaning of the Great Dao.

Taiyi had his eyes closed as well, putting on a convincing act.

But he had not been listening at all.

It was not that he did not want to listen—the path of the Quasi-Saint concerned his future cultivation, and only a fool would ignore it. But he did not dare.

Just moments ago, when Hongjun had reached the third taboo concerning the connection between the Three Corpses and the consciousness of the spiritual treasures entrusted to them, Taiyi had tried to follow the Dao Ancestor's method. He looked inward, intending to examine the three vague phantom forms of his Three Corpses—yet the instant his divine sense sank into the depths of his sea of consciousness, the three fused fragments of Karma Reversal suddenly shuddered.

They had not merely trembled. They had come alive.

Like a sleeping snake startled awake, lifting its head in the darkness and flicking its tongue.

A cold, chaotic power carrying the aura of taboo surged from deep within the fragments. It flowed upstream along the divine sense he had extended, instantly spreading through his entire sea of consciousness. Taiyi felt as though his Primordial Spirit had been plunged into icy water. Every thought froze stiff, and even thinking became sluggish.

More frighteningly, he "saw" the vague Karma Threads upon his body begin to distort violently at that moment.

This was not the previous blurring or fading. It was true distortion—as if someone had grabbed a handful of threads and twisted them viciously several times. Those threads tangled together, knotted, intertwined, and finally became a chaotic mess. The connection between him and that tangle was also rapidly weakening.

It was as if... he was being stripped away from this vast web of karma.

The feeling was too bizarre.

Taiyi suddenly opened his eyes. A layer of fine cold sweat had already formed on his forehead. He instinctively looked toward the high platform—Hongjun was still lecturing, his voice calm, seemingly unaware of the small anomaly on Taiyi's side.

Yet the instant his gaze fell upon him, the Dao Ancestor's voice paused slightly.

It was not truly a pause, but an extremely subtle change in rhythm, one almost impossible to detect. Like a note in a smooth melody whose duration had been stretched by the slightest fraction.

Then Hongjun's gaze swept over.

It was not the casual, absent-minded glance from before. He was truly looking. His gaze descended from the Dao seat, passed through the spiritual mist filling the hall, passed through the flowing Dao rhythm, and landed squarely on Taiyi.

It remained there for half a breath.

Only half a breath.

Yet Taiyi felt as though half his life had passed.

That gaze was terrifyingly calm, like a bottomless icy pool. He could not tell whether it contained anger or joy, confusion or understanding. But Taiyi could sense that it held something—not pressure, not scrutiny, but a more fundamental power: the power of seeing.

It was seeing.

Seeing his physical body, seeing his Primordial Spirit, seeing the three fragments of Karma Reversal awakening within him, seeing the taboo power spreading through him, seeing the twisted, knotted Karma Threads being stripped away from him.

No secret could remain hidden.

All the blood in Taiyi's body turned cold.

He felt as though he had been stripped naked and thrown into a world of ice and snow, thoroughly seen through inside and out. It was not a metaphor. It was a real sensation—that gaze pierced through flesh, bones, and Primordial Spirit, all the way to the deepest part of his sea of consciousness, seeing changes that even he himself had not fully understood.

He wanted to hide, to flee, to block that gaze from reaching him.

But his body could not move.

It was not because he had been immobilized. It was a deeper rigidity born of instinct. Like a rabbit seeing a hawk or a mouse seeing a cat, it was pure terror brought by the crushing difference in the level of life itself.

He gritted his teeth until they creaked.

He could not show weakness.

Absolutely not.

Since Hongjun had not exposed him on the spot, there was still room to maneuver. But if he showed even the slightest abnormality or revealed even the faintest trace of fear now, what would the Dao Ancestor do? That was impossible to say.

Taiyi forced himself to calm down.

He took a deep breath. Even the air entering his lungs seemed filled with ice chips, so cold that his internal organs cramped. Yet he stood firm, even squeezing out a perfectly timed trace of realization—an expression like someone who had understood a crucial point in the lecture and suddenly gained insight.

He even nodded slightly, his lips moving as if silently repeating the sentence Hongjun had just spoken.

The entire performance flowed smoothly, naturally, as if it were real.

But only he knew that the clothes on his back had been soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to his skin, icy and clammy. His palms were drenched as well, clenched within his sleeves, his nails nearly digging into his flesh.

At last, half a breath passed.

Hongjun shifted his gaze away.

As though he had noticed nothing unusual, the Dao Ancestor continued, "...When consciousness is linked, stray thoughts must be avoided. If stray thoughts intrude, the entrusted object may easily become tainted, and the Three Corpses will be difficult to sever..."

His voice remained steady, without any discernible change.

But Taiyi knew that during that half breath, Hongjun had seen everything.

What that gaze contained had been too clear—it was not confusion or investigation, but understanding. Like seeing a cup of water on a table: you knew it was water, knew it could be drunk, but might not necessarily drink it.

Hongjun had seen the anomaly upon him and knew what it was, but... he had not interfered.

Why?

Thoughts raced through Taiyi's mind.

Was it because he did not care? Did he think such an anomaly was insignificant? But this was taboo power, a breach torn into the order of the Heavenly Dao. How could it be insignificant?

Was it because he could not interfere? Was there some rule restraining even the Dao Ancestor from acting freely?

Or was he... waiting for something?

Waiting for Taiyi to expose more? Waiting for this power to take complete shape? Waiting for the mastermind behind it to appear?

The more Taiyi thought, the heavier his heart became.

He closed his eyes again, pretending to continue listening, while in truth pouring all his focus into his sea of consciousness to examine those three fragments.

The fragments were still trembling faintly, and that taboo power was still slowly spreading. He could feel that his connection to the web of karma had weakened by another fraction.

Like a taut string being slowly cut.

The feeling was both terrifying and... exhilarating.

What terrified him was the unknown—what would happen if he were stripped away from the web of karma? What would he become? Would he still count as a living being of the Great Wilderness? Could he still cultivate? Could he still... live?

What exhilarated him was freedom—if he could truly be completely stripped away, would the Heavenly Dao still be able to control him? Would those predetermined paths of fate, those inevitable calamities, those unavoidable schemes, all cease to have anything to do with him?

He did not know.

But he knew that he could not stop now.

Since Hongjun had not interfered, this path could still be walked. At least, it could still be walked for now.

He drew a deep breath and began carefully guiding that taboo power.

He was not suppressing it, nor was he driving it away. He was guiding it—like channeling a flood, allowing it to flow along the route he had planned, slowly seeping into every inch of flesh and every strand of his Primordial Spirit.

It was delicate work, harder than embroidery.

Hongjun's lecture continued, providing the perfect cover. The Great Dao's rhythm contained within that voice could conceal many subtle fluctuations. Taking advantage of that cover, Taiyi began changing himself bit by bit.

Time slowly passed.

He did not know how long had passed. Perhaps several hours, perhaps an entire day.

When Taiyi opened his eyes again, he felt that the entire world had changed.

It was not a change in vision, but in perception.

He could see the Karma Threads more clearly now—the threads extending from everyone in the hall were visible to him in minute detail. The Three Pure Ones' black-yellow Karma Threads were solid as iron chains; Nuwa's creation-tinged azure Karma Threads brimmed with life; Zhunti and Jieyin's dark golden Karma Threads intertwined with one another, yet both bore faint cracks; more than half of the broken Karma Thread upon Hongyun had already dissipated, while the Calamity Qi above his head was so dense it could not be dispersed...

Even the great powers standing in the back rows had clearly visible Karma Threads.

But when he looked at himself, what he saw was a mass of... chaos.

Blurred, distorted, impossible to grasp.

Several major Karma Threads remained, but they were all knotted and twisted together, like a ball of yarn a cat had played with. His connection to those threads had become so weak that he could barely feel it.

It was as if... he was becoming an observer.

Observing this vast web of karma covering the Great Wilderness, observing the fate of every node upon it, observing the unfolding of all things.

And he was not on the web.

Taiyi could not describe what he felt.

He looked up at the high platform.

Hongjun was still lecturing, his voice calm and distant. "...Once the Three Corpses have been entrusted, they must be nurtured for a hundred years. During that time, one must not become angry, entertain evil thoughts, or give rise to obsessive delusions..."

The Dao Ancestor's gaze did not sweep over him again.

But Taiyi knew that gaze was still there.

It was not fixed on him. It blanketed the entire Zixiao Palace, every person here, every trace of breath, every minute change.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes once more.

The lecture had only begun three days ago.

There were still three years left.

During those three years, he had to see this path through.

He had to walk it steadily, discreetly, and... without anyone noticing.

At the very least, without making Hongjun feel that intervention was necessary.

He sank into his sea of consciousness and continued guiding that taboo power.

Within the great hall, the sound of the lecture continued.

And Taiyi's "stripping away" had only just begun.