Three Thousand Guests of Purple Cloud Palace

Purple Cloud Palace towered majestically, exuding supreme majesty capable of suppressing all heavens and myriad worlds.

Its doors were tightly shut, Chaos Qi coiling before them. Faintly visible was a young Daoist in robes, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and watching ahead with an indifferent expression.

This was the future supreme sovereign of the Haotian Golden Palace—the Jade Emperor of the Heavenly Court in later ages.

Now, as the Dao Ancestor Hongjun's attendant boy, he was responsible for receiving and seeing off guests at Purple Cloud Palace. His aura was deep and unfathomable, at the very least at the Zenith Heaven Immortal level.

Yang Xuan stepped forward a few paces and cupped his hands slightly. "This junior, Yan Zhen, has come to hear the Dao."

Haotian gave a slight nod. He saw through Yang Xuan's Golden Immortal cultivation, yet showed little emotional reaction, merely saying in an even tone:

"Since you have arrived, fellow Daoist, go on in. Remember, do not make noise within Purple Cloud Palace. Quietly await the Dao Ancestor's decree."

His attitude was not exactly warm, carrying an obvious sense of distance.

Clearly, in Haotian's eyes, Yang Xuan was merely an unremarkable member among the three thousand worldly guests.

Yang Xuan did not mind. He nodded and stepped inside.

The moment he entered the hall, a vast aura of the Great Dao, boundless as the sea, rushed toward him.

Purple Cloud Palace was immeasurably spacious within, as though it contained a world of its own.

Quite a few beings had already arrived in the hall, all renowned innate mighty beings of the primordial world.

Yang Xuan raised his eyes and saw that while the six meditation cushions at the very front were still empty, several supremely powerful auras had already claimed excellent positions behind them, ready to take the cushions at the first opportunity.

None who could come to Purple Cloud Palace were ordinary. Naturally, they understood that those six cushions had not been placed there without reason.

Perhaps each cushion represented a supreme opportunity—perhaps one might even be accepted as the Dao Ancestor's disciple.

Thus, the top mighty beings of immense strength silently watched the cushions before them, tacitly leaving room for one another.

First were the Three Pure Ones—Grand Pure One Laozi, the Jade Pure One Primordial Heavenly Venerable, and the Upper Pure One Spirit Treasure Heavenly Venerable. The three stood shoulder to shoulder, clear qi rising around them, every bit the bearing of Pangu's orthodox lineage.

To one side stood the Demon Emperor Dijun and Eastern Emperor Taiyi. Solar True Fire wound around the brothers, their dominance unparalleled.

At a conspicuous spot near the front, Yang Xuan spotted a familiar yet noble figure.

She wore a magnificent phoenix robe, surrounded by the innate laws of utmost yin and softness. Her face was concealed within hazy Chaos divine light, making others dare not look directly at her.

It was Queen Mother of the West, who had just sent him into the depths of Chaos!

At this moment, Queen Mother of the West looked solemn and dignified, evidently one of the most eye-catching top mighty beings within Purple Cloud Palace.

She seemed to sense Yang Xuan's gaze, and that mass of Chaos light turned slightly.

Farther away, the Twelve Ancestral Witches had gathered together, Sha Qi piercing the skies and standing utterly at odds with their surroundings.

Every one of these people stood at the peak of the primordial world's pyramid, top experts of the first tier in this age.

Yang Xuan secretly sighed. Though he had now entered the Golden Immortal realm, before these veteran powerhouses who were casually Quasi-Saints or peak Zenith Heaven Golden Immortals, he had only just obtained an entry ticket.

Among the three thousand guests of Purple Cloud Palace, he could at most be counted among the second tier. He still had a long road ahead before reaching the ranks of true top mighty beings.

Yang Xuan found a relatively quiet open spot in the middle-rear section of the hall, then sat down cross-legged.

As he looked around, he unexpectedly discovered quite a few "acquaintances" from the mythological legends of his past life seated ahead.

Great Immortal Zhen Yuan, Red Cloud Patriarch, Ancestor Minghe...

Looking at these figures who would one day either shine brilliantly in the great calamities or perish and vanish, Yang Xuan took a deep breath, gathered his scattered thoughts, and began meditating to rest.

Then he took the time to glance at the chat group and read through its thousand-odd messages.

Something unusual seemed to have happened in Huang Rong's Legend of the Condor Heroes world. There was a suspected transmigrator.

Then there was Zhang Xiaofan, who had already broken through to the Upper Pure realm, met Bi Yao, and moved between the righteous and demonic factions under two identities.

Luo Ji's world, meanwhile, continued developing in an orderly fashion. Technology was experiencing explosive growth, and technological cultivation for all had already been incorporated into a twelve-year compulsory cultivation education system.

In the world of the group leader Li Yuxuan, Li Yuxuan's cultivation had broken through to the fifth realm—the Qi Condensation realm, a martial arts grandmaster. Step by step, she had entered the upper echelons of her world and become the personal disciple of Zhang Mengyao, Martial Xia's first Goddess of War.

In the Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre world, Martial Xia, founded by Zhang Sanfeng's disciple Song Yuanqiao, had begun conquering the world in preparation for unifying it. As Martial Xia's territory expanded, Zhang Sanfeng received ever more favor from destiny, and his realm advanced by leaps and bounds.

And with Medusa's backing, Xiao Yan had established the Flame Alliance, taken Canaan Academy's Fallen Heart Flame, and reached the Dou Emperor realm. He was preparing to head for the Central Plains.

After seeing how everyone in the various worlds had developed differently from the original works, Yang Xuan felt as though he were witnessing history unfold. It was quite fascinating, but he did not speak.

He then exited the chat group.

Who knew how much time passed.

The atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly grave. The tightly shut doors of Purple Cloud Palace suddenly let out a thunderous rumble and slowly opened.

An indescribably vast Dao rhythm instantly swept through the entire hall. Every mighty being turned their gaze in unison toward the figure slowly emerging.

Yang Xuan saw only a figure at the very front, reaching from heaven to earth.

It was an old man with an ancient, weathered face, whose brows seemed to bear all the years since heaven and earth had first been opened.

He wore a crimson-purple Daoist robe. No radiance from magical treasures could be seen around him, yet his mere appearance there caused the same thought to rise in the hearts of all three thousand worldly guests:

This was the incarnation of the Dao, the supreme ruler.

Dao Ancestor Hongjun!

The hall fell silent.

Hongjun sat in the seat of honor and looked down upon the three thousand beings. His voice was not loud, yet it rang clearly in every ear:

"I came from Chaos, passed through immeasurable kalpas, and realized the boundless Dao.

Before heaven was opened, I already existed; after heaven is extinguished, I shall yet remain.

Reclining high upon the Ninth Heaven's clouds, upon a meditation cushion I discerned the Dao's truth;

Beyond heaven and earth, dark and yellow, I shall be revered as the master of teachings.

Leader of all the Mystical Gate, one qi transformed into Hongjun."

As the verses fell, they were like an evening drum and morning bell, shaking every cultivator present to the depths of their soul.

The Three Pure Ones bowed together. Nuwa showed reverence, while sharp light flickered in Dijun and Taiyi's eyes.

Even the fiercely unruly Twelve Ancestral Witches lowered their heads.

At this moment, everyone confirmed one thing in their hearts.

Dao Ancestor Hongjun was the incarnation of the Heavenly Dao, the supreme existence of this world.

Having finished reciting his Dao poem, Hongjun slightly raised his hand and pointed to the six empty meditation cushions before the hall.

"I am about to expound the Great Dao. Those fated may sit upon these six cushions; those without fate must not force the matter."

Before his words had even faded, the atmosphere in the hall abruptly tightened.

Fated or not, one should sit first and talk later.

The Three Pure Ones exchanged glances. Grand Pure One Laozi stepped out first and walked unhurriedly to the first cushion, then sat down cross-legged.

Primordial Heavenly Venerable followed closely behind and took the second.

Tongtian Cult Master did not yield either, taking the third.

The three orthodox descendants of Pangu had been born from one qi. No one dared vie with them.

Nuwa hesitated briefly, but her elder brother pushed her forward. As the two of them were brother and sister, two top powerhouses, the siblings secured one seat. Yet Fuxi refused to sit, yielding it to Nuwa.

Dijun and Eastern Emperor Taiyi, on the other hand, disdained the seats. Dijun was proud at heart. He had come here merely to hear the Dao Ancestor's teachings. He did not believe that he and his brother should submit to others simply because they had been born earlier and cultivated for a few more epochs.

Then a streak of golden light entered from outside the hall. It was none other than the Daoist Jieyin, clad in a resplendent brocade kasaya, his body radiating a faint golden glow.

Though his face was thin, it held a solemn dignity. His aura had already placed him among the foremost figures in Purple Cloud Palace.

He first bowed to the Dao Ancestor in apology. "I arrived late. I hope the Dao Ancestor will show mercy."

Seeing that Hongjun had closed his eyes and offered no response, Jieyin sat uneasily upon the fifth seat.

Then Red Cloud was pushed forward by Zhen Yuanzi and sat upon the sixth seat.

Suddenly, another streak of golden light appeared.

It was Zhunti, staggering on unsteady steps, without his former radiant vigor and seemingly bearing serious injuries. He repeatedly apologized to Red Cloud:

"Fellow Daoist, show mercy. This poor monk came from the farthest reaches of the west. The journey was long, and I nearly missed this opportunity."

Hearing this, Red Cloud could not help but feel pity. He had always been carefree and had no interest in such opportunities.

It was only because his close friend Zhen Yuanzi had told him to take a seat. Otherwise, would that not slight the Dao Ancestor? How could the six cushions possibly be left unfilled?

"If that is so, fellow Daoist, come sit and rest." As Red Cloud spoke, he rose and yielded the sixth seat.

Zhunti repeatedly voiced his thanks and prepared to take the sixth seat. "Thank you for your mercy, fellow Daoist. Thank you for your mercy!"

"Hold it!"

Kunpeng Patriarch called out to stop him, his expression dark.

He thought, I've been here for so long. I couldn't compete with two people, but can't I compete with a western beggar like you?

Zhunti could not be bothered to turn around and acknowledge him. He simply sat directly on the sixth meditation cushion.

Zhunti's thinking was simple: this was the Dao Ancestor's sacred ground. I am sitting here—if you have the ability, drag me off this seat.