The Secrets of Saint Positions

The preaching ended on the nine hundred and ninety-ninth day.

Hongjun's voice came to a halt after he said, "Only by slaying all Three Corpses and perfecting one's Dao Fruit can one glimpse the chance of becoming a Saint." The final word, "chance," faded away without the slightest drag. The profound Dao rhythm permeating the hall dissipated thread by thread like a receding tide. The vast Star Chart slowly revolving across the ceiling also gradually slowed before finally freezing in place.

The great hall was silent enough for a pin to drop.

No one dared make a sound. Even their breathing was held back. Hundreds of burning gazes stared fixedly at the plain gray figure on the high platform.

Taiyi stood beside Di Jun, putting on an equally intent expression. Yet the string in his heart was drawn tighter than anyone else's—this was where things got good.

Sure enough, Hongjun half-lifted his eyelids, his gaze vaguely sweeping across those below, as indifferent as if he were looking at a pile of stubborn rocks.

"The three sessions of preaching have now reached their completion."

His tone remained unchanged, betraying neither joy nor anger.

"The Great Dao has fifty paths; Heaven derives forty-nine, while one escapes. Yet for the Heavenly Dao to operate, there must be Saints who act in Heaven's stead and enlighten all living beings."

The moment the word "Saint" was spoken, everyone in the hall shuddered inwardly. Though none dared move outwardly, the eagerness in their eyes was nearly enough to set the spiritual mist of Zixiao Palace ablaze.

Taiyi watched coldly.

He saw Laozi among the Three Pure Ones twitch his eyelids almost imperceptibly. Yuanshi straightened his back rigidly. Tongtian pressed his lips together, his eyes blazing. Nuwa slightly furrowed her brows, her fingers gently rubbing together within her sleeve. Zhunti and Jieyin... one looked so compassionate that honey seemed ready to drip from him, while the other appeared miserable enough to wring water from. Yet the dark golden Buddhist light around them suddenly flared as though oil had been poured upon it.

Hongjun seemed utterly unaware of the undercurrents in the hall and continued in his flat tone.

"There are seven Saint positions."

Seven?

Taiyi's heart skipped a beat. Weren't there six? There should have been six Saints... Wait, could the seventh be...

"Yet one has already been decided."

As Hongjun spoke, his gaze seemed to fall upon Taiyi for an instant. It was as fleeting as an illusion, yet Taiyi caught it.

The Dao Ancestor merged with the Dao to complete Heaven's number. Did that count as occupying one position? Or was it a rank of "one merged with the Dao," transcending the Saint positions?

"The remaining six positions shall belong to those destined for them."

As his words fell, Hongjun lightly flicked his sleeve.

There was no earth-shaking display, merely a casual wave. Yet the six meditation cushions that had sat in the hall since the preaching began—dull gray and inconspicuous—suddenly began to glow.

It was not a dazzling radiance, but a restrained and gentle brilliance that shone from within the cushions. Each cushion bore a different hue. Those beneath the Three Pure Ones emitted misty azure-black light; Nuwa's gave off a green glow filled with flowing vitality; those beneath Zhunti and Jieyin shone with heavy dark golden Buddhist light.

Vague, illusory runes appeared within the light, profound beyond description. Taiyi stared at them for a long time and could only distinguish their outlines—they resembled imprints of Heaven and Earth's authority and status, yet also marks of the Heavenly Dao's operational hubs.

"These six positions belong to the Three Pure Ones, Nuwa, Zhunti, and Jieyin."

Hongjun's single statement settled the matter.

The atmosphere in the hall abruptly churned. Envy, jealousy, reluctance, realization, bitterness... countless emotions mixed together, stirring the spiritual mist into motion.

Taiyi quickly swept his gaze around.

Among the Three Pure Ones, Laozi closed his eyes, tranquil as an ancient well. The corners of Yuanshi's lips lifted in a faint, self-assured smile. Tongtian suddenly opened his eyes wide, his gaze filled with fervor. Nuwa took a soft breath, her hand within her sleeve tightening before relaxing. Zhunti and Jieyin pressed their palms together and chanted Buddhist verses in unison, their voices carrying ecstatic delight at the dust finally settling, along with deeper, more complicated relief.

Even more people looked ashen.

Di Jun stood beside Taiyi, his brows tightly furrowed and lips pressed into a line. Taiyi could feel his elder brother's unwillingness—the Demon Race wished to establish the Heavenly Court and rule the Great Wilderness. Without the backing of a Saint's status, their foundation would ultimately remain unstable. Now that all six Saint positions had been decided, not a single member of the Demon Race had made the list.

Taiyi himself did not feel much disappointment. He had never expected this in the first place. At this moment, he was more focused on "watching."

Causality Vision quietly activated.

Through his pair of "new eyes," the scene became entirely different.

Each of the six glowing meditation cushions shot forth a thick, solid pillar of light that soared into the sky, pierced through the ceiling of Zixiao Palace, and connected directly to that vast, boundless "Heavenly Dao network" woven from endless Dao laws and principles.

The Three Pure Ones' pillars were the most solid and stable, their colors pure and upright. Their connection to the network was utterly seamless, as though they had always been branches extending from it.

Nuwa's pillar was somewhat gentler, carrying the endless creative meaning of life and creation. Fine currents moved at its connection point, yet it remained firm overall.

Zhunti and Jieyin's pillars... were far more interesting.

The connection points between their dark golden pillars and the network bore clear traces of "grafting." The joins were not fully harmonious, and faint gray-black "impurities" even flowed around their edges—perhaps marks of borrowed merit, perhaps the cost of forcibly connecting themselves. The two pillars were tightly entwined, nearly twisted into one, carrying a distinct sense of being in the same boat.

So that was it... Taiyi understood.

What "those destined for them."

They were clearly the "key guardians" predetermined by the Heavenly Dao's operation!

The Three Pure Ones represented the orthodox lineage of the Mystic Sect. They were the "central guardians" of the network, legitimate and deeply rooted, their authority stable.

Nuwa commanded Creative Vitality and served as an indispensable "vitality hub" of the network.

Zhunti and Jieyin, meanwhile, seemed like some sort of "supplementary agreement"? Or perhaps "reserve mechanisms" the Heavenly Dao had established in advance to deal with future variables? Their method of connecting was so awkward, and the price so apparent. They seemed more like forces outside the network's system that the Heavenly Dao was "recruiting" or exploiting.

A Saint position had never been a reward for sufficient cultivation or profound blessings.

It was an "office."

A "Heaven-ordained position" connected to the core of the Heavenly Dao, granting control over part of Heaven and Earth's authority while also requiring its holder to enlighten living beings and maintain the stability of the cosmos!

The Primordial Violet Qi required for sainthood was likely not some "foundation of the Great Dao," but rather a token of authority and proof of cosmic law bestowed by the Heavenly Dao!

That explained why Saints' Primordial Spirits served as "anchors," exposing weaknesses when great calamities changed... Ordinarily, they were stable nodes in the network. But when old and new laws alternated and the Heavenly Dao underwent turbulent reorganization, those "fixed nodes" instead endured the greatest impact and strain, exposing flaws at their points of connection!

Having understood this, Taiyi felt a chill run down his spine.

The waters of the Great Wilderness ran unfathomably deep.

While his thoughts raced, Hongjun spoke again in the same flat tone.

"The Saint positions have been decided. There are also seven strands of Primordial Violet Qi, which are opportunities for becoming Saints."

With that, he lightly flicked his sleeve once more.

Seven slender streams of purple light curled out from his sleeve. The violet qi was profound beyond description. At first glance, it was purple, but upon closer inspection, it seemed to contain every color, shifting endlessly as it radiated an ancient, primordial, lofty, boundless aura.

The atmosphere in the hall, which had only just settled, stirred again! Even more violently than before! If the Saint positions were fixed ranks that most people knew they had no hope of attaining, then this Primordial Violet Qi was the only remaining ladder to Heaven!

Six streams of violet qi leisurely flew forth like old horses that knew the way, each heading toward the Three Pure Ones, Nuwa, Zhunti, and Jieyin before vanishing into their foreheads.

The seventh stream of violet qi, however, circled in midair, drifting from side to side as though "hesitating."

Hundreds of gazes locked tightly onto that strand of violet qi, their hearts rising into their throats.

Hongyun stood near the rear. Even the good-natured man's face now revealed nervousness, anticipation, and even a trace of deeply buried longing. He clenched his fists, not blinking once.

At last, the violet qi drifted toward Hongyun.

Hongyun's eyes instantly brightened. Wild joy flooded his face, and his lips trembled as he nearly cried out.

But just as the violet qi was about to touch his forehead—

"Alas."

An exceedingly soft sigh, almost too faint to hear, came from the high platform.

It was Hongjun.

The Dao Ancestor still had his eyes lowered, his expression unchanging. Yet that sigh was like a stone cast into the river of fate.

The violet qi abruptly stopped before Hongyun's nose. Then, as though it had lost all spirituality, it dimmed and slowed before lightly "falling" into Hongyun's instinctively outstretched palm.

It did not enter his forehead.

There was no mysterious sensation of acknowledging a master.

It was like casually tossing aside some insignificant object.

The ecstasy on Hongyun's face froze, turning into confusion, then panic. He held the dim violet qi in both hands, utterly at a loss, and looked toward the platform with eyes full of pleading and bewilderment.

Yet Hongjun had already looked away, as though neither that sigh nor this scene had anything to do with him.

Taiyi's Causality Vision locked onto Hongyun.

He clearly "saw" that the instant the violet qi fell into Hongyun's hand, the Karma Thread of Saint position above Hongyun's head—which had already been severed and was leaking gray-black Calamity Qi—completely "went out." A brand-new thread of violet qi karma formed, slender and fragile, likewise connected to the Heavenly Dao network. Yet this thread... was far too faint, far too unstable, as though it might snap at any moment.

What chilled Taiyi's spine even more was that from this newly born, fragile Karma Thread of violet qi, he "saw" countless dense "leads"—every one of them connected to a pair of eyes in the hall filled with greed, jealousy, and malice!

A man commits no crime by possessing jade, but it becomes his crime.

What Hongyun held was not an opportunity for sainthood, but a death warrant personally written by the King of Hell!

Among those countless malicious "leads," one was the thickest and most hideous, radiating blood-soaked hatred too dense to dissolve—it came from Zhunti on the fifth meditation cushion!

Zhunti still kept his eyes lowered and palms pressed together, his face filled with compassion. Yet through Causality Vision, Taiyi clearly "saw" overwhelming malice and killing intent churning within that ocean of dark golden Buddhist light deep in Zhunti's Primordial Spirit! The Karma Thread linking him to Hongyun had changed from its former hidden dark red into something ugly and vicious, like solidified bloody scabs!

Hongyun had given up his seat, fulfilling Zhunti's chance at a Saint position.

Not only did Zhunti feel no gratitude whatsoever, he instead regarded that "fulfillment" as humiliation. He saw the existence of Hongyun, his "benefactor," as a thorn in his eye and flesh! Now that Hongyun had received Primordial Violet Qi, it was like pouring boiling oil onto Zhunti's twisted nature!

What a fine example of "compassion for all beings"... Taiyi's heart turned cold.

At this moment, Hongjun's voice rose once more, bringing this "bestowal" that had stirred everyone to a close.

"The Saint positions have been decided, and the violet qi has masters. Yet sainthood cannot be achieved in a day. One must first perfect one's merit and encounter the proper opportunity."

"This session of preaching has ended. Three thousand years from now, Zixiao Palace shall open again, and I will expound upon the Primordial Chaos Dao Fruit."

Three thousand years later? The Primordial Chaos Dao Fruit?

Everyone in the hall had different thoughts, but Hongjun had no intention of saying more. After a pause, his gaze seemed to pass over them all before he said lightly.

"Outside Zixiao Palace lies Treasure Distribution Cliff. Those destined for the spirit treasures upon it may take them."

Treasure Distribution Cliff!

Those three words were like a stimulant, instantly diluting the heaviness and disappointment caused by the allocation of Saint positions. Spirit treasures! Especially Xiantian Spirit Treasures—they were the foundation for protecting one's Dao, slaying the Three Corpses, and increasing one's strength!

Everyone's eyes became fervent once more. Even Hongyun temporarily forgot the hot potato in his hands and instinctively gripped the violet qi tightly.

Hongjun said no more. His figure remained seated upon the platform, gradually fading before ultimately merging with that expanse of Dao-rhythm spiritual light and vanishing.

Once the Dao Ancestor departed, the invisible pressure blanketing the hall dissipated as well.

Boom—

The hall truly erupted. Discussions, sighs, congratulations, and sour-toned well-wishes rang out everywhere. Everyone rose to their feet, most of them hurrying toward the exit—the temptation of Treasure Distribution Cliff was simply too great.

The Three Pure Ones rose as well. Laozi remained calm, Yuanshi looked reserved yet satisfied, and Tongtian was brimming with excitement. The three quietly exchanged words as they followed the crowd out.

Nuwa gave Fuxi a faint nod, and the two departed together.

Zhunti and Jieyin rose as well. As Zhunti turned, his gaze seemed to casually sweep over Hongyun, who still stood stunned in place, holding the violet qi in confusion. The cold malice deep within that gaze made even Taiyi, watching from afar, feel his heart tremble. The two quickly departed, clearly unwilling to linger in this place of conflict.

Zhen Yuanzi hurried to Hongyun's side and grabbed him by the arm, speaking to him with a grave expression. From the shape of his lips, he was saying, "Leave quickly." Hongyun woke as if from a dream, hastily stowed away the violet qi, and followed Zhen Yuanzi out of the hall, nearly swept away by the crowd.

Di Jun walked to Taiyi's side, patted his shoulder, and said in a deep voice, "Second Brother, we should go as well. Though the Saint positions have been decided, we cannot miss the spirit treasures. The Demon Race's future must ultimately be decided by strength."

Taiyi nodded and gathered his chaotic thoughts. He cast one last look over the suddenly empty hall, then raised his eyes toward the vacant Dao seat on the high platform.

The true nature of Saint positions, the distribution of authority, Zhunti's killing intent, Hongyun's calamity, the opportunity at Treasure Distribution Cliff...

Scene after scene, Karma Thread after Karma Thread, intertwined in his mind.

"Let's go, Brother." Taiyi stepped outside, while beneath the calm in his golden eyes, dark currents surged.

The preaching at Zixiao Palace had come to an end.

But the part of this great drama of the Great Wilderness in which he, Eastern Emperor Taiyi, would play a role had only just begun. Every step from now on would require greater caution—and greater decisiveness.

He brushed the cold, hard Chaos Bell within his sleeve, feeling the three fragments of Karma Reversal in the depths of his sea of consciousness, already gradually merging with the foundation of his Dao.

The road ahead was still long.