Everyone shuddered for no reason. Hongjun's words were like a freezing north wind—not only cold, but blowing straight into their hearts, leaving their chests tight and heavy.
"Teacher, turn back before it's too late. We may not know what you went through or what grudge you have against the Dao Ancestor, but no obstacle in this world is insurmountable. Please stop!"
Nüwa was caught in a dilemma. She did not want to fight Hongjun, and neither did the Three Pure Ones. It had nothing to do with strength. A teacher for a day was a father for life. Hongjun was still Hongjun. Without him, none of them would have begun their path of enlightenment. Without him, the Saints would never have reached where they were today. Without him, who knew how chaotic heaven and earth would have become.
Yet from Hongjun's words, it seemed that he and the Dao Ancestor shared a Blood Sea-deep enmity. If the two fought, they did not know whom to support. On one side was family; on the other, all living beings.
Since Hongjun was helping Chiyou, he could not possibly be on the righteous path. By sentiment and reason alike, the Saints should not stand idly by.
But now? The Three Pure Ones said nothing. Tathagata remained silent. Even the Twelve Ancestral Witches had quieted down. Only Nüwa offered a word of persuasion, because Hongjun had cherished this female disciple of his back then.
"No, you don't understand. You don't know!" Hongjun sighed. Why would he have wanted to come this far?
"I have no way back!" Hongjun closed his eyes. From the moment he became the Heavenly Dao and Qin Fen established the Daoist School in the Primordial Wilderness, today had already been destined. The Great Dao had long since arranged its contingency