Zhao Xuan Demands Power, Not Gambling Is the Best Retreat!

Inside Biyou Palace.

A flicker of surprise crossed Master Tongtian's eyes upon hearing Zhao Xuan's words.

Zhao Xuan continued:

"Master, I did not come here today to persuade you to concede."

"I came to tell you that not sitting at the gambling table does not mean losing."

"They want to use the lives of my Jie Sect disciples as stakes."

"Then the best way for the Jie Sect is simply not to gamble."

"If they want to conduct the Investiture of the Gods, let them do it themselves."

"If they want a Heavenly Court, let them gather the people themselves."

"If they want the big picture, let them look after it themselves."

"If they want the mandate of heaven, let them acknowledge it themselves."

"The Jie Sect owes them nothing."

Having said this, Zhao Xuan bowed deeply.

"Therefore, I boldly ask Master to give me a chance."

"If my next three predictions all come true, I ask that you grant me supreme decision-making power over the Jie Sect during the Great Tribulation of the Investiture of the Gods."

"I will not interfere in the daily affairs of the Jie Sect."

"I will not interfere in the cultivation of my fellow junior brothers and sisters."

"But whenever it involves the Investiture of the Gods, the descent of disciples from the mountain, or whether the Jie Sect enters the tribulation, my word must be final."

"Otherwise, I would rather cripple my own cultivation and leave the Jie Sect than watch the ten thousand immortals of the Jie Sect walk toward their doom."

Boom!

As these words fell, the entire Biyou Palace fell into a deathly silence.

Supreme decision-making power.

This was no longer a suggestion.

This was a demand for authority.

In any other sect, this would be tantamount to insubordination.

But this was the Jie Sect.

And the person speaking was Zhao Xuan.

So, no one dared to rebuke him.

Master Tongtian watched Zhao Xuan quietly.

After a long while, he suddenly laughed.

"Are you trying to manage the Jie Sect on my behalf?"

Zhao Xuan remained bowed, motionless.

"I would not dare."

"I only wish for the Jie Sect to survive."

Tongtian fell silent.

Inside Biyou Palace, everyone kept their heads lowered.

If Zhao Xuan had said such things before today, he might have been dismissed as an alarmist.

But now, things were different.

The Investiture of the Gods List was truly about to appear.

The prediction from three hundred years ago had truly come to pass.

So, what of the other futures Zhao Xuan had seen?

Would the Jie Sect truly not perish?

Master Tongtian spoke slowly:

"This matter is too significant."

"I will not entrust the fate of the entire Jie Sect to you based on a few words."

Zhao Xuan was not surprised.

"I understand, Master."

Tongtian continued:

"However, since you have already been proven right once, I will give you a chance."

"Effective today, the Jie Sect will suspend the opening of its gates to accept new disciples."

"All disciples currently abroad who are not on essential business are to be recalled to Golden Turtle Island immediately."

"Disciples of the Jie Sect are forbidden from entering the Heavenly Court without authorization, forbidden from interfering in the destiny of human dynasties, and forbidden from engaging in conflict with disciples of the Chan Sect."

"As for whether we shall close the island entirely, and whether I shall leave the matter of the Investiture of the Gods to your sole discretion, that will depend on your next three predictions."

"If you are correct all three times, I shall grant your request."

Zhao Xuan bowed deeply.

"This disciple accepts the command."

The hearts of the gathered disciples were shaken.

They knew that from this moment on, the Jie Sect had changed.

At the very least, regarding the Investiture of the Gods, the Jie Sect would no longer be like it was in the past—rushing down the mountain in a fit of hot-blooded fervor the moment someone spoke of morality, the greater good, or fraternal bonds.

Master Tongtian waved his hand.

"You may all withdraw."

The crowd bowed one after another and departed.

Outside Biyou Palace.

Zhao Xuan stood before the palace, gazing at the vast East Sea in the distance.

The sea breeze whipped his black Daoist robes, causing them to snap loudly.

There was not a hint of relief on Zhao Xuan's face.

Because he knew this was only the beginning.

The Heavenly Court would demand people.

The Chan Sect would seek to avoid the tribulation.

The West would come to the East.

The Investiture of the Gods List would hang between heaven and earth.

The entire Primordial World would, step by step, turn its gaze toward the Jie Sect.

It was as if a group of people had long been seated at a gambling table, waiting for the Jie Sect to push its disciples, its destiny, and its orthodoxy forward as chips.

Unfortunately.

This lifetime, things would be different.

Zhao Xuan looked up toward the nine heavens, a cold sneer tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Investiture of the Gods?"

"Very well."

"If you want to play, then play by yourselves."

"From today on, my Jie Sect takes half a step back."

"I want to see if, without Jie Sect disciples to fill your holes,"

"Haotian's Heavenly Court, Yuanshi's Chan Sect, the compassion of the West, and the heavenly destiny set by the Dao Ancestor,"

"can actually continue to play out this farce."

Golden Turtle Island.

Inside a side hall outside Biyou Palace.

Holy Mother Jinling, Holy Mother Guiling, and a number of outer sect disciples of the Jie Sect had gathered.

They were still ruminating on the words of their Senior Brother, Zhao Xuan.

If Duobao were to enter Buddhism, Jinling were to end up on the List, Guiling were to perish, Zhao Gongming were to suffer a crushing defeat, the Three Xiao Sisters were to meet their respective ends, Tongtian were to be confined to Zixiao Palace, and the ten thousand immortals of the Jie Sect were to wither away—if these things were to truly come to pass, how could they possibly respond?

They were not afraid of death.

Because most Jie Sect disciples valued righteousness over life; if they were to face a direct magical duel, even against the Twelve Golden Immortals of the Chan Sect, few would retreat even half a step.

What they found unbearable was that if what Zhao Xuan said was true, they would not be dying on the path of seeking the Dao, nor in a fair duel, nor for the karma they were meant to bear.

They would be dying because they were being schemed against.

They were being pushed, step by step, toward the Investiture of the Gods List by something called "heavenly destiny."

And then, others would step upon their bones and say:

The disciples of the Jie Sect did not recognize heavenly destiny, and thus, they were fated to be on the List.

Who could endure such a thing?

At the very least, Holy Mother Guiling could not.

Standing to the side of the hall, her anger grew the more she thought about it, until finally, she slammed her fist against a jade pillar in the hall.

BOOM!

The jade pillars trembled.

Several Jie Sect disciples guarding outside the hall turned pale with fright, yet they dared not speak.

Holy Mother Guiling gritted her teeth and said:

"What Investiture of the Gods, what heavenly mandate!"

"When it all comes down to it, isn't it just that Haotian lacks manpower, the Chan Sect is avoiding the tribulation, and the West is picking up the scraps, all while pushing my Jie Sect out to fill the pit?"

"They certainly have a clever scheme!"

Holy Mother Jinling glanced at her indifferently.

"What use is there in smashing pillars now?"

Holy Mother Guiling retorted angrily:

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"Are we really to do as the Eldest Senior Brother says, close the island from this day forth, rot away in seclusion, and ignore everything?"

"It's not that I fear others calling the Jie Sect cowardly; I simply cannot swallow this insult!"

"They plot against us, yet we retreat first—what does that look like?"

Holy Mother Jinling remained silent for a moment.

In truth, she could not swallow this insult either.

She found it even harder to swallow than Holy Mother Guiling did.

She was Holy Mother Jinling, one of the four personal disciples under Master Tongtian.

In terms of slaughter, combat power, and spirit, she never felt inferior to those so-called virtuous immortals of the Chan Sect.

If it were up to her, she would naturally prefer to march straight up to Kunlun Mountain and ask those disciples under Yuanshi Tianzun who gave them the audacity to use the lives of Jie Sect disciples to avoid their own tribulations.

However, those few questions from Zhao Xuan still lingered in her mind.

Could she defeat the Saint Yuanshi?

Could she withstand the Taiqing Saint?

Could she contend against the great trend of the Heavenly Dao set by the Dao Ancestor?

She could not.

It was not just that she could not.

Within the entire Jie Sect, aside from Master Tongtian, no one could.

But even Master Tongtian, did he not fail in the future?

The Immortal-Slaughtering Sword Formation could not be broken without four Saints.

Yet the problem was, in the future, four Saints truly arrived.

It was laughable.

You possess a formation that cannot be broken without four Saints.

The opposition simply gathers four Saints to break you.

You speak of reason, and they speak to you of the heavenly mandate.

You speak of fraternal loyalty, and they speak to you of the greater good.

You speak of fairness, and they speak to you of the Investiture of the Gods being the decree of the Dao Ancestor.

How is one supposed to fight this?

Thinking of this, Holy Mother Jinling understood for the first time why Zhao Xuan had said "do not sit at the table."

It was not out of fear.

It was because this table was never fair to begin with.

Others sat at the table to divide the benefits, while the Jie Sect was expected to use the lives of its disciples as gambling stakes.

In such a game, not playing was the only correct choice.