A Glimpse of the Dao Ancestor

Chapter 43: A Glimpse from the Dao Ancestor

Only three days had passed since the lecture began.

Taiyi counted in his heart. It had been exactly three days since Hongjun first opened his mouth and said, "This lecture will last for three years." There was no sun or moon in Zixiao Palace, only the slow rotation of the star map on the dome. Yet, he possessed an almost instinctive sense of the passage of time—a habit developed from his past life as a programmer, making him exceptionally sensitive to "timing."

For these three days, Hongjun had been explaining the method of entrusting the Three Corpses. He covered everything from the selection of the most basic Spiritual Treasures to the methods of nurturing them, and even the taboo matters. The Dao Ancestor's voice was like a calm, flowing river, without ripples, yet capable of suppressing all extraneous noise. The two to three hundred people in the hall had mostly entered a state of meditation, with Dao rhymes flowing around them as they immersed themselves in the profound truths of the Great Dao.

Taiyi also closed his eyes, pretending to be as engrossed as everyone else.

But he wasn't listening at all.

It wasn't that he didn't want to listen—the path of a Quasi-Saint was crucial for future cultivation; not listening would be foolish. But he dared not.

Just a moment ago, as Hongjun was discussing "the third layer of taboo regarding the connection between the Three Corpses and the entrusted Spiritual Treasures through heart and mind," Taiyi had tried to follow the Dao Ancestor's method. He attempted to perceive himself internally, wanting to see the three blurry phantom images of his Three Corpses. The moment he sank his divine sense into the depths of his sea of consciousness, the three fused fragments of Karma Reversal suddenly trembled.

It wasn't a tremor; they had "come alive."

Like a disturbed sleeping snake, they raised their heads in the darkness, flicking their forked tongues.

A cold, chaotic power, imbued with a taboo aura, surged from the depths of those fragments. It flowed back along his probing divine sense, instantly spreading throughout his entire sea of consciousness. Taiyi felt as if his Primordial Spirit had been plunged into ice water; every thought froze, becoming stiff, and even thinking became sluggish.

Even more terrifying was that he "saw" the blurry Karma Threads on his body begin to twist violently at that moment.

Not the previous blurriness or fading, but a true distortion—as if someone had grabbed a handful of threads and twisted them fiercely. The threads tangled, knotted, and finally twisted into a chaotic mess. And his own connection to this tangled mess was rapidly weakening.

It was as if... he was being "peeled away" from this great net of karma.

This sensation was too bizarre.

Taiyi's eyes snapped open, a fine layer of cold sweat already forming on his forehead. He instinctively looked towards the high platform—Hongjun was still lecturing, his voice calm, seemingly oblivious to the minor anomaly on his side.

But the moment his gaze landed there, the Dao Ancestor's voice paused slightly.

It wasn't a full stop, but an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible change in rhythm. It was like a single note in a flowing musical piece being infinitesimally stretched.

Immediately after, Hongjun's gaze swept over.

It wasn't the casual, absentminded glance from before, but a true "look." His gaze descended from the Dao Seat, passing through the spiritual mist filling the hall, through the flowing Dao rhymes, and landed directly on Taiyi.

It lingered for half a breath.

Just half a breath.

But Taiyi felt as if half a lifetime had passed.

That gaze was terrifyingly calm, like a bottomless cold pool. You couldn't tell if it held anger or joy, confusion or understanding. Yet, Taiyi could feel that the gaze contained something—not pressure, not scrutiny, but a more fundamental power of "seeing."

It was "seeing."

Seeing his physical body, his Primordial Spirit, the three fragments of Karma Reversal "awakening" within him, the spreading taboo power, the distorted, knotted Karma Threads on his body that were being peeled away.

All his secrets were laid bare.

Taiyi's entire body went cold.

He felt as if he had been stripped naked and thrown into a snowstorm, seen through from the inside out. It wasn't a metaphor; it was a genuine sensation—that gaze pierced through his flesh, his bones, his Primordial Spirit, all the way to the deepest part of his sea of consciousness, seeing the changes that even he hadn't fully understood yet.

He wanted to hide, to flee, to block that gaze from entering.

But his body wouldn't move.

It wasn't immobilization, but a deeper, instinctual stiffness. Like a rabbit seeing a hawk, or a mouse seeing a cat, it was pure fear stemming from a crushing disparity in life levels.

He gritted his teeth, the sound of them grinding audible.

Don't show weakness.

Absolutely not.

Since Hongjun hadn't exposed him on the spot, it meant there was still room to maneuver. But if he showed the slightest abnormality, the slightest fear right now, what would the Dao Ancestor do? It was hard to say.

Taiyi forced himself to calm down.

He took a deep breath. The air he inhaled felt like it contained shards of ice, chilling his internal organs and making them twitch. But he still stood steady, even managing to force a look of "sudden realization" onto his face—the kind of expression one gets when they suddenly grasp a crucial point in a lecture.

He even nodded slightly, his lips moving as if silently repeating Hongjun's words from earlier.

The entire process was seamless, as natural as if it were real.

But only he knew that the back of his clothes was already soaked in cold sweat, clinging to his skin, cold and clammy. His palms were also covered in sweat, clenched within his sleeves, his fingernails digging into his flesh.

The half-breath finally passed.

Hongjun moved his gaze away.

The Dao Ancestor acted as if he hadn't seen any anomaly and continued his lecture: "...the heart and mind must be connected, and stray thoughts must be avoided. If stray thoughts intrude, the entrusted object may become contaminated, making it difficult to sever the Three Corpses..."

His voice remained calm, with no discernible change.

But Taiyi knew that in that past half-breath, Hongjun had seen everything.

The meaning contained within that gaze was too clear—it wasn't confusion, nor was it inquiry, but "understanding." It was like seeing a cup of water on a table; you know it's water, you know it's drinkable, but you might not necessarily drink it.

Hongjun had seen the anomaly on him, understood what it was, but... he hadn't acted on it.

Why?

Thoughts raced through Taiyi's mind.

Was it because he didn't care? Did he think this anomaly was insignificant? But this was the power of Taboo, a tear in his Heavenly Dao order. How could it be insignificant?

Was it because he couldn't interfere? Were there rules that bound him, preventing even the Dao Ancestor from casually intervening?

Or was it... waiting for something?

Waiting for him to expose more? Waiting for this power to fully take shape? Waiting for the mastermind behind it all to reveal themselves?

The more Taiyi thought, the heavier his heart became.

He closed his eyes again, pretending to continue listening to the sermon, but his entire consciousness sank into his sea of consciousness, to look at the three fragments.

The fragments were still vibrating slightly, and the Taboo power was still slowly spreading. He could feel his connection to the great karma net weakening further.

It was like a taut string being slowly cut.

This feeling was both terrifying and... exciting.

Terrifying because of the unknown—what would happen if he were completely stripped from the great karma net? What would he become? Would he still be a creature of the Great Wilderness? Could he still cultivate? Could he still... live?

Exciting because of the freedom—if he could truly be stripped away completely, would the Heavenly Dao still have any hold over him? Would those predetermined destinies, those unavoidable tribulations, those inescapable schemes, no longer have anything to do with him?

He didn't know.

But he knew he couldn't stop now.

Since Hongjun hadn't intervened, it meant this path was still viable. At least for now.

He took a deep breath and began to carefully guide the Taboo power.

Not suppressing it, not expelling it, but guiding it—like diverting a flood, letting it flow along the path he had planned, slowly permeating every inch of his flesh and blood, every wisp of his Primordial Spirit.

This was meticulous work, harder than embroidery.

Hongjun's sermon continued, serving as the best cover. The profound principles contained within his voice could mask many subtle fluctuations. Taiyi used this cover to "transform" himself bit by bit.

Time trickled by.

He didn't know how long had passed, perhaps a few hours, perhaps a whole day.

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

It wasn't a visual change, but a change in perception.

He could "see" the karma threads more clearly—the threads extending from everyone in the hall were now vividly apparent in his eyes. The Three Pure Ones' Xuanhuang karma threads were solid as iron chains; Nuwa's creation green light karma threads were full of vitality; Zhunti and Jieyin's dark gold karma threads were intertwined, but both bore subtle cracks; the broken karma thread on Hongyun's body had largely dissipated, and the tribulation energy above his head was thick and unyielding...

Even the karma threads of the great cultivators standing in the back rows were clearly visible.

But when he looked at himself, he saw only... chaos.

Vague, distorted, elusive.

A few main karma threads were still there, but they were knotted and tangled together, like a ball of yarn played with by a cat. And his own connection to these threads had become so weak that he could barely feel it.

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

An observer of the great karma net covering the Great Wilderness, an observer of the destinies of every node on the net, an observer of everything that was happening.

And he was not on the net.

Taiyi couldn't describe the feeling in his heart.

He looked up at the high platform.

Hongjun was still preaching, his voice calm and distant: "...The integration of the Three Corpses requires a hundred years of nurturing. During this time, one must not get angry, must not harbor evil thoughts, must not have obsessions..."

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

But Taiyi knew that gaze was always there.

Not focused on him, but encompassing the entire Zixiao Palace, encompassing everyone here, every wisp of energy, every subtle change.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again.

The sermon had only just begun three days ago.

There were still three years left.

In these three years, he had to walk this path successfully.

Walk it steadily, walk it discreetly, walk it... without letting anyone notice.

At the very least, without letting Hongjun feel the need to intervene.

He sank into his sea of consciousness, continuing to guide the Taboo power.

In the grand hall, the sermon continued.

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