Wanted to Sit on a Meditation Cushion!

Wang Shi was in no mood to listen to a lecture now. He could already make out many people heading their way.

"My three masters, please take the seats of honor."

He led the Three Stars straight to the meditation cushions and seated them.

"These cushions are of tremendous importance. Whatever you do, don't give them up."

The Three Pure Ones had wanted to say something, but in the end, they merely nodded solemnly.

The Nine Meditation Cushions were very special. Placed ahead of all the other cushions, they clearly held extraordinary significance.

Just then, Fuxi and Nuwa walked in as well.

Their eyes lit up when they saw Wang Shi, then fell upon the Nine Meditation Cushions.

Three were already occupied.

Only six remained.

By then, a host of mighty cultivators had gathered behind Nuwa and Fuxi, surging inside.

They were about to catch up to the pair.

Fuxi roared, "Sister, I'll help you!"

At the same time, Wang Shi sat down on a meditation cushion, claiming a seat.

The mighty cultivators behind them finally grew green-eyed with envy. The seats were dwindling before their eyes, with only four remaining.

Hong Yun and Kunpeng both made their moves, swiftly claiming two cushions and sitting down.

Of the final two seats, Fuxi seized one a step ahead of Eastern Emperor Taiyi.

With only one seat left, the mighty cultivators erupted in fury.

They brought out their magical treasures, ready to fight for it.

Just then, a bell rang out.

Its power swept through the Chaos, instantly suppressing the surroundings.

Under Eastern Emperor Taiyi's intimidating protection, Di Jun sat down with a grave expression.

The other mighty cultivators sighed softly and shook their heads. Though dissatisfied, they could do nothing about it.

They could only find other cushions to sit on, watching as the seats in the Purple Firmament Palace grew fewer and fewer.

Only then did the Western Duo finally arrive, late to the gathering.

One wore an expression of bitter suffering, while the other looked caught between laughter and tears. They looked quite comical.

As soon as he entered, he looked around.

Upon arriving and seeing that almost every seat was occupied—especially the special seats at the very front, which were all taken—the two immediately burst into loud sobs.

"Boohoo! Pity us, coming from the West so far away! We came to the Purple Firmament Palace to hear the Dao, yet there isn't even a seat for us!"

Everyone present kept their eyes lowered to their noses, their noses aligned with their mouths, and their mouths turned toward their hearts, acting as though this had nothing to do with them and could be hung high out of reach.

Seeing this, the two felt fury rise within them.

"Alas, there are so many mighty cultivators here, yet not a single one has any compassion! Pity our barren West, which has produced so few powerful cultivators. Now the entire West rests its hopes on us, yet we cannot even find a seat! How can we face the elders and folk back home?"

"So be it. It is only fitting that I die here today. But pity the Western Beings, who will have no hope left from this day onward."

With that, Daoist Zhunti actually turned and charged headfirst toward a nearby stone pillar.

It looked as though the collision would surely burst his skull and kill him.

Just then, a ribbon of light shot over and instantly pulled Daoist Zhunti back.

"Fellow Daoist, why go this far? It is only a meditation cushion. Why make it a matter of life and death? I'll give you my seat."

A mighty cultivator with a ruddy face and purplish-red hair stood up.

He was none other than the legendary Daoist Hongyun.

Behind him, Zhen Yuanzi felt rather helpless.

Especially when he saw the faint killing intent in the surrounding gazes, he knew things had gone wrong.

Daoist Zhunti was instantly overjoyed.

"Then you have my deepest thanks, Fellow Daoist. If the Western Beings have any hope in the future, all the credit will belong to you."

He then sat down, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Daoist Jieyin's eyes shifted as he began examining those seated there.

When he saw the Three Pure Ones, he immediately skipped over them. He could not beat them—they were Quasi-Saints. Then he turned his gaze toward Wang Shi.

"You there, brat! You're so young, and merely a Primordial Unity Golden Immortal. What qualifies you to sit on that cushion? Give this Daoist your seat at once! Must you force me to take action myself?"

Just then, three gazes sharp enough to kill swung toward him.

Daoist Jieyin instantly froze.

What is this supposed to mean? I haven't offended you three, have I?

He turned his head, not daring to look at them, and could only vent his anger on Wang Shi.

"Junior, are you trying to force my hand?"

He continued his frenzied blustering.

Everyone looked at him in astonishment.

They all stood with their hands behind their backs, watching the show.

Quite a few of the mighty cultivators present knew Wang Shi.

Back when he had taken form on Buzhou Mountain, many of them had been caught in his trap.

Just then, Wang Shi turned his head.

"Are you talking about me?"

He found it quite strange that anyone dared provoke him. Did they not know that with his masters right there, he feared no one?

Daoist Jieyin rubbed his eyes and gave Wang Shi a disbelieving look.

His expression changed drastically as he instantly remembered who Wang Shi was.

He had only seen Wang Shi from behind earlier, and Wang Shi had advanced so quickly.

"Th-this is a misunderstanding, young friend. I wasn't talking about you. That fellow over there—little Daoist Kunpeng! I'm talking to you! With your cultivation, you dare claim a seat? You're simply courting death! Get down from there!"

He stepped forward, made a casual grab, and seized Kunpeng, tossing him back.

Poor Daoist Kunpeng. Although he too was a late-stage Daluo Golden Immortal, he was still far inferior to Daoist Jieyin.

What was more, Daoist Kunpeng had always come and gone alone. Even with some forces around him, he simply could not compare with Hong Yun and the others.

By now, Old Ancestor Kunpeng had come to hate Hong Yun.

Indeed, he could not defeat the others and dared not trouble them, so he could only secretly record this grudge.

"Damn it! If I do not avenge this, I swear I am no man!"

He clenched his fists tightly, burning with shame over what had happened to him.

His eyes were fixed on Hong Yun. It was all that bastard's fault! If he had not insisted on giving away some Sage Seat, how could this absurd mess have happened?

After all his painstaking efforts to secure a seat, it had been snatched away so easily.

Eastern Emperor Taiyi looked over. Holding the Chaos Bell, he kept everyone from daring to approach.

He examined them all and finally realized that not a single person seated there was weak.

Nuwa and Fuxi belonged to his Demon Court, so naturally, he could not attack them.

The two crybabies from the West had formidable means and probably would not submit easily either.

The Three Pure Ones and their disciple were extremely difficult to deal with.

In the end, he could only shake his head helplessly.

So even after taking a seat, one could still be dragged off it with ease.

Just then, Wang Shi's gaze sharpened as he spotted the Twelve Ancestral Witches entering.

These fellows had arrived rather late too. They looked utterly at ease, as though they were merely touring mountains and enjoying the scenery.

"That Chaos storm was nothing much. It couldn't stop a truly powerful cultivator at all."

"So this is the Purple Firmament Palace. Magnificent indeed! Just what you'd expect of Hongjun's place of cultivation."

"Shh, keep your voice down. This is a Sage's place of cultivation. Do you have a death wish?"

As they chatted, they saw someone up ahead waving at them.

"Little Tu, over here."