Within Biyou Palace, wondrous manifestations rose.
Immortal rosy clouds cascaded from the void like waterfalls, strand upon strand, stream upon stream, weaving an exquisitely radiant curtain of light.
Across that curtain, the sun, moon, and stars revolved, mountains and rivers took shape, and countless living beings were born and perished. It was as though the entire Primordial World had been condensed within it, unfolding into a vast, magnificent panorama.
A thousand streams of auspicious radiance rose from the ground, like silk and threads, like smoke and mist, curling gracefully as they circled and entwined.
They held an indescribable auspicious aura. Every strand seemed capable of dispelling all calamity and bringing boundless blessings, soothing the mind and steadying the Dao heart.
At that moment, the entire Biyou Palace seemed to become a small world independent of the Primordial World-a sacred ground formed entirely from Dao rhythm, created solely for discourse on the Dao.
At the very center of all these manifestations, Gu Changqing and Luohu sat facing one another.
The former sat crookedly cross-legged on a cushion, still cradling the Wine God Gourd, his face flushed and his drunken eyes hazy.
Yet his aura was utterly unlike his usual lazy, careless demeanor.
It was unfathomable, vast as an abyss and deep as the sea.
It was as though the one sitting there were not a drunken sot, but a supreme Dao Ancestor who had walked out of the ancient Primordial World, his every word and deed aligned with the Great Dao, his every movement containing the mysteries of heaven.
Luohu sat upright opposite him, his hands resting naturally on his knees, his eyes half closed and his expression calm. Beneath that calm, however, lay anticipation and excitement he could barely contain.
He had cultivated for countless epochs, from his days as