Primordial Era: Starting by overwhelming the Sages, Hongjun was stunned!

Kong Xuan slowly stood up.

Hongjun's heart plummeted to an abyss the moment Kong Xuan stood up.

The figure in the black robe simply rose slowly from the lotus platform, the movement as gentle as brushing off dust.

However, the energy of the entire Zixiao Palace completely stagnated at this moment.

None of the three thousand worldly travelers dared to make a move.

The Three Pure Ones bowed their heads, Emperor Jun and Taiyi held their breath, Nuwa and Fuxi lowered their eyes, and the blood and energy of the Twelve Ancestral Witches solidified.

Even the swirling purple aura that had never ceased since Hongjun began his sermons, and which shared the same origin and breath as the entire Zixiao Palace, quietly came to a standstill at this moment.

It was as if all things in heaven and earth were waiting.

We waited for the figure in the black robe to utter the next sentence.

Within Hongjun's purple sleeves, his five fingers slowly clenched.

He doesn't understand.

He really didn't understand.

This person sat in meditation for three thousand years, without uttering a word, without revealing his breath, without vying for the meditation cushion, and without inquiring about the Great Dao.

Hongjun thought he was just passing by.

It's just a temporary pause.

He happened to pass through this world amidst endless chaos, and just happened to encounter the Zixiao Palace giving a lecture. It was like a divine dragon accidentally descending to the mortal world, glancing at the gathering and scattering of ants.

If that's the case, then one should sit quietly for three thousand years, and then depart peacefully.

Like clouds scattering across the sky, like snow falling into a deep pool, leaving no trace.

But why did he get up at this time?

How could one rise up when one's own speech was silenced, one's saintly dignity was tarnished, and one was under the watchful eyes of the public?

Hongjun's gaze narrowed slightly, and as the purple light shifted, he only saw a bottomless chaos.

What is this person thinking?

What does he intend to do?

Just now, I was about to reveal his name, but he silenced me with a single word.

That was a warning.

Hongjun admitted it.

His cultivation level and authority are inferior to others, so it is only right that he is silenced.

He withdrew the aura of a sage, retracted the divine principles, and swallowed the words "unspeakable."

He had already lowered his head.

He thought that was the end of it.

But why did this person get up?

The sermon at Zixiao Palace has concluded, and the three thousand mortals are about to depart.

He only needs to continue sitting quietly until everyone leaves, and then he can quietly disappear into the depths of chaos.

At that time, no one will dare to ask or mention it.

No one even dares to remember what happened today.

But he didn't.

He stood up.

He stood up at a time when everyone was too afraid to move, speak, or even breathe.

Hongjun suddenly felt that the humiliation of being silenced just now was far less than the silence he felt when he stood up.

Just now, that person only said "don't let me talk about it".

And at this moment, that person was about to speak.

Tongtian stood among the crowd, his hand on his sword bulging with veins.

He was closest to Kong Xuan.

It was no more than three zhang (approximately 10 meters).

The breeze stirred up by the figure in the black robe as he stood up even brushed against his loose hair.

He saw Kong Xuan's black robe flutter lightly, like a chaotic demon god who had been sleeping for eternity finally opening a slit in his eye.

He saw Kong Xuan's black hair cascading down like a waterfall, motionless amidst the stagnant purple aura of the Purple Cloud Palace.

He saw Kong Xuan slowly raise his eyes.

Those eyes.

It's been three thousand years.

Tongtian waited for three thousand years, just to see what kind of sword intent was hidden in those eyes that could shatter the Chaos Bell with a single glance.

At that moment, he finally saw it.

There was no sword intent.

There was no murderous intent.

There was not even any pressure.

There was only peace.

It was as calm as the absolute nothingness before chaos was created and before the beginning of time was determined.

Tongtian's entire body stiffened.

He thought he would be filled with fighting spirit.

He thought he would lose control and draw his sword.

But when those eyes truly opened, when he was truly enveloped by that gaze.

He found himself unable to even muster the thought of drawing his sword.

It's not fear.

It's not about reverence.

Rather, it is a deeper, ineffable... humility.

Like dust gazing up at the sky, like mayflies peering into the vast ocean.

He, Tongtian, claimed to be the true descendant of Pangu. Looking across the primordial world, apart from his two elder brothers and the Dao Ancestor Saint, he never paid any attention to anyone else.

But at this moment.

Only now did he truly understand.

His so-called talent, his so-called swordsmanship, his so-called pride.

Before that figure in black robes, it was nothing more than a child's wooden sword, brandishing its sharpness against the towering divine peak.

It's utterly ridiculous.

Kong Xuan's gaze swept over Tongtian.

Without stopping, without pause.

Like a speck of dust, a gentle breeze, or a withered leaf falling from a branch.

Then, he looked up.

Looking towards the high platform.

Looking towards Hongjun.

Eyes facing each other.

Within Hongjun's purple sleeves, his five fingers were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He suddenly had an extremely absurd premonition.

He didn't want to hear what this person was going to say next.

But he couldn't stop it.

He couldn't even speak.

Those three words, "It cannot be said," had exhausted all his dignity.

If he were to be silenced now, what face would Hongjun have left to call himself a saint and ancestor? What qualifications would he have to unite with the Dao?

He could only wait.

Wait for that person to speak.

The man's words, like an invisible sword hanging overhead, slowly fell.

Kong Xuan finally spoke.

The sound was calm, like a deep pool in an ancient well, without a ripple:

"Does the Dao Ancestor know why I have come?"

Hongjun remained silent.

It's not that I'm unwilling to answer.

I don't know how to answer.

Kong Xuan, however, seemed not to need his answer.

His gaze shifted slightly, sweeping over the three thousand worldly guests below the stage.

Wherever his gaze fell, all living beings bowed their heads.

No one dared to meet his gaze.

No one dared to look him in the eye.

No one dared to let their shadow fall into the reflection of those eyes.

"Three thousand years."

Kong Xuan spoke slowly, his voice still calm:

"I sit here quietly, watching the Dao Ancestor expound on the Dao of Hunyuan and describe the mechanism of becoming a saint."

"Look at you all, so eager and thirsty, swallowing the Dao and its essence as if drinking fine wine."

He paused, his gaze slightly narrowing:

"But do you know that..."

"What exactly did you swallow?"

Upon hearing this, the entire hall fell silent.

Three thousand worldly travelers stood frozen in place, their minds blank.

What are they swallowing?

The Way of Heaven, the Way of Heaven.

The true meaning of the Great Dao, personally proclaimed by the Sage Hongjun, is the first publicly revealed opportunity for sainthood since the creation of the world.

What else could it be?

But Kong Xuan's calm tone and indifferent gaze clearly said that you were wrong.

That's completely wrong.

Hongjun's gaze suddenly sharpened.

He suddenly raised his head and looked at Kong Xuan.

Within the purple sleeves, her five fingers were clenched so tightly that her bones cracked slightly.

He knew what Kong Xuan was going to say.

He suddenly felt immense regret.

He regretted not having given his all earlier, even if it meant his foundation crumbled, to stop this person from getting up.

Because of what this person is about to say.

It is enough to shake the foundation of his three thousand years of preaching, three thousand years of planning, and even the entire Xuanmen lineage!

But he was powerless to stop it.

Kong Xuan slowly withdrew his gaze from the three thousand mortals.

Ultimately, it all came down to Hongjun.

"You have preached the Way for three thousand years, and the Way you preach..."

Kong Xuan paused.

In the Purple Cloud Palace, all was silent.

Three thousand travelers in the mortal world held their breath.

The Three Pure Ones held their breath.

Di Jun and Tai Yi held their breath.

Nuwa and Fuxi held their breath.

The twelve ancestral witches held their breath.

The two Westerners held their breath.

Haotian and Yaochi stood with their eyes lowered, not daring to even move their fingertips.

Hongjun stared intently at Kong Xuan.

The heart of a sage is now riddled with cracks.

then.

Kong Xuan said those words:

"Not the Primordial Dao".

"Not the way to sainthood."

"It is the shackles of Heaven's Way."

The four words, once uttered, resounded like thunder from the heavens!

Inside the Purple Cloud Palace, the purple mist surged wildly!

The chaotic airflow outside the palace suddenly exploded!

Beyond the thirty-three heavens, billions of stars have all gone dark!

On this primordial land, countless ancient beings, who had been sleeping, suddenly opened their eyes at this moment!

The three thousand worldly people in the audience were struck dumb!