Above the clouds stood an old Daoist in robes patterned with a taiji diagram, his hair gathered into double buns, his sleeves broad and his gown loose, with a silken sash and hemp shoes.
He was Taiyi Zhenren, who instructed his disciple to beat people, helped his disciple kill people, devised schemes for his disciple to harm people, secretly taught his disciple to kill himself, and goaded his disciple into killing his father.
Taiyi's gaze was indifferent. "King Zhou certainly won't admit his guilt."
"Isn't that just perfect?"
Beside Taiyi stood Juliusun. The two had always been close. Taiyi failed to teach his disciple properly, and Juliusun was much the same: he was the one who forcibly betrothed Deng Chanyu to his disciple and told Tu Xingsun to force himself on her.
"Stubbornly refusing to see reason, still dreaming of defying Heaven and changing his fate when Shang must fall and Zhou must rise—is he trying to overturn the heavens? The Investiture Calamity is no petty affair. We immortals arrange the board and place our pieces, while King Zhou is merely a mortal. Whatever trump cards he holds, whatever means he possesses, we should crush them all. That is how our Chan Sect should act. Shang's fall and Zhou's rise are the Mandate of Heaven. Following that mandate is the natural way. What need is there for schemes?"
"Indeed."
Taiyi nodded and said indifferently, "Once today's business is done, everything will be out in the open. The Investiture of the Gods is imminent. It will also help our fellow disciples pass through the calamity sooner."
Juliusun nodded. "Indeed. My disciple has already gone over to Shang and done some unsavory things. We can put those to some use."
Their words made the war to replace one dynasty with another sound