After they crossed the clearing beside the Blood Pool, the gates of Pangu Hall stood before them.
The immense gates, fashioned from Chaos rock, were covered in primordial Dao patterns from the creation of heaven and earth, each line exuding a vast, ancient aura.
Taiqing Laozi paused briefly before the gates, an exceedingly rare ripple flashing through the eyes beneath his white brows.
He had been formed from Pangu's Primordial Spirit and was most sensitive to Father God's aura.
Standing there, he could clearly sense the aura emanating from the hall itself, which shared his own origin.
Vast and ancient, majestic and compassionate.
Pangu Hall had not been built from bricks and stone, but formed from an incomparably enormous heart turned to stone.
Every pattern on its walls was a remnant of the heart's vessels.
The faint sense of a heartbeat within the hall was precisely the lingering vitality of Pangu's Heart, still undispersed after countless ages.
"Father God's heart."
Taiqing Laozi murmured those words, his tone carrying a rare trace of reverence.
Standing inside the gates, Pan Xuan said solemnly:
"Pangu Hall was formed from Father God's heart. It is the sacred hall of our Witch Clan.
"Though Father God transformed his body into all things, his heart still beats here.
"Here, even Hong Jun, who united his body with the Dao, might not be able to discern anything.
"You three fellow Daoists may speak freely within the hall."
Those words made clear Pangu Hall's ability to conceal.
The Three Pure Ones understood.
Pan Xuan had chosen to receive them on Mount Buzhou not merely to observe the courtesy of reciprocating their hospitality, but also to provide an absolutely secure setting for their conversation.
On Kunlun Mountain, Pan Xuan had used his authority as Lord of the Divine Dao