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

Inside the Purple Cloud Palace.

Purple mist wafted, and the Taoist spirit flowed.

Hongjun sat cross-legged on the cloud platform, his purple robe hanging down, his eyes slightly closed, his face as calm as an ancient well.

But beneath that calm lay an indescribable anxiety.

Since the end of his three-thousand-year sermon, since the departure of that figure in black robes, he has never closed his eyes.

A sage needs no sleep.

But for the past three thousand years, he has been constantly making deductions.

To deduce the person's origins.

To deduce that person's cultivation level.

To deduce who that person really is.

But every time they tried to deduce the results, it was like throwing a stone into the sea – they disappeared without a trace.

The man seemed to be shrouded in an invisible barrier, towering above the heavens and blocking all prying eyes.

Hongjun opened his eyes.

In his eyes, a purple aura flowed, reflecting the endless chaotic void.

"Kong Xuan..."

He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse, with a tremor he himself was unaware of.

Who is this person?

Why can't even the Heavenly Dao deduce its origins?

Why can't even a sage see through his cultivation level?

What exactly is his purpose in coming to Zixiao Palace?

He asked, "What exactly is the purpose of the shackles of Heaven?"

Countless questions, like vines entwining his heart, caused even Hongjun's Dao heart to ripple with a faint ripple.

He fears.

He was afraid that person would ruin his big plans.

He feared that person would prevent him from attaining enlightenment.

I fear that my endless plans over the years will come to naught.

Hongjun took a deep breath, suppressing the surging thoughts in his heart.

Will not.

He comforted himself.

If that person truly wanted to ruin his grand plan, they could have done so three thousand years ago.

But he simply sat there silently for three thousand years, without uttering a word, and finally drifted away.

What does this tell us?

This shows that the person had no hostility towards him or towards the Way of Heaven.

At least not for now.

Hongjun slowly closed his eyes, his body surrounded by purple energy, closely connected with the origin of the Heavenly Dao.

almost.

Three thousand years later, the second sermon will be given.

At that time, he will pass on the method of becoming a quasi-saint and the way to sever the three corpses.

Those three thousand Purple Cloud Guests will then be completely bound to the Heavenly Dao.

Once they reach the peak of Quasi-Sainthood, their path forward will be cut off, and they will have no choice but to seek his help.

Ask him to grant them the method to become a saint.

Beg him to have mercy and let them go further.

At that time, the selfish desires of Heaven will be fully awakened. He will merge with the Dao and then be able to control the life and death of all living beings in the primordial world.

This was his plan.

This is the arrangement of Heaven.

As for Kong Xuan...

Hongjun's gaze narrowed slightly.

As long as he doesn't cause any major problems, let him be.

The vast wilderness could accommodate a mysterious being.

As for who he really is, where he came from, and where he's going...

If you don't know, then you don't know.

Hongjun was pondering this.

suddenly.

He frowned.

The sage's divine sense spread out like a tide, sensing from the depths of chaos that thousands of auras were rushing toward the Purple Cloud Palace.

He recognized those scents.

Di Jun, Tai Yi, Nuwa, Fuxi, Hongyun, Zhen Yuanzi, Kunpeng, Jieyin, Zhunti, the Twelve Ancestral Witches...

There's also Lao Tzu and Yuan Shi.

And then there are the three thousand Purple Cloud Guests.

What are they here for?

Hongjun was stunned.

He himself clearly said that he would give a second sermon three thousand years later.

Now, only three thousand years have passed, and they've already arrived?

and......

Hongjun's gaze narrowed slightly.

Kong Xuan has already spoken about the shackles of Heaven's Way.

Those Zixiao guests should know that their three thousand years of listening to the Dao have resulted in them being bound by shackles.

They should hate him, resent him, and avoid him like the plague.

How dare you come here?

Aren't you afraid he'll kill them?

Hongjun slowly rose, his purple robes fluttering, his Daoist aura flowing.

He gazed toward the palace gate, his eyes deep and unfathomable.

That's it.

They come, the security.

Let's see what they're up to.

Outside the Purple Cloud Palace.

The chaotic air currents surged like a tide.

Three thousand figures rushed in from all directions.

Di Jun rushed to the front, his body engulfed in the blazing True Sun Fire, yet within those flames lay a trace of undeniable disorder.

His face was deathly pale, and he was weak and listless, as if he had endured endless torment.

Donghuang Taiyi followed closely behind, looking even more disheveled. The Dao injury from the destruction of the Chaos Bell had not yet healed, and his aura fluctuated wildly, like a candle flickering in the wind.

Nuwa and Fuxi walked side by side, their images intertwined with the phantom of the Mountain and River Map and the Eight Trigrams Plate, but the phantom was dim and seemed to be about to collapse at any moment.

The Old Ancestor of Red Cloud rode on a broken red cloud, his face as pale as paper, with bloodstains still at the corner of his mouth.

Zhen Yuanzi's long sleeves hung down, and the illusory image of the Earth Book floated up and down, flickering uncertainly, as if it would collapse at any moment.

The Kunpeng slightly folded its wings, revealing countless fine cracks on its black feathers.

Jieyin and Zhunti supported each other, their golden light dimmed like a candle flickering in the wind, resembling two withered grasses battered by frost.

The twelve ancestral witches' blood energy surged, but within that blood energy lay a trace of weakness that was difficult to conceal.

Lao Tzu and Yuan Shi stood side by side, their celestial aura dimmed, their faces solemn and iron-like.

The three thousand guests of the Purple Cloud Pavilion were all in a sorry state.

It was as if they had just gone through a life-or-death battle.

But in their eyes burned a strange light.

That was longing.

It was resolute.

It was a desperate, mad gamble.

The gates of Zixiao Palace slowly opened.

A misty purple aura surged out from within the gate, intertwining with the chaotic airflow to create a miniature illusory world.

Inside the palace gates, a figure in purple robes stood with his hands behind his back.

Hongjun.

He gazed at the three thousand disheveled figures outside the door, his eyes calm as still water.

"Why have you all come?"

Di Jun landed first, staggered forward, and knelt on one knee:

"Dao Ancestor! We...we beg the Dao Ancestor for mercy!"

Hongjun raised an eyebrow slightly:

"Have mercy on me?"

Di Jun raised his head, his eyes bloodshot:

"Dao Ancestor! Kong Xuan said that the shackles of the Heavenly Dao that we are bound by are set up by you, Dao Ancestor!"

"We don't believe it!"

"But over these three thousand years, we have sought verification and searched everywhere..."

He paused, his voice hoarse and strained:

"Those shackles...were real!"

Hongjun's gaze narrowed slightly.

They found out.

But they still came.

"so?"

Hongjun spoke, his voice still calm.

Di Jun kowtowed, his forehead pressed against the Chaos Stone in front of the palace gate:

"We beg the Dao Ancestor to remove our shackles!"

The words fell.

Three thousand guests from the Purple Heaven Pavilion knelt down in unison!

A vast, dark mass, bowing their heads outside the Purple Cloud Palace!

"Please, Dao Ancestor, have mercy!"

"We beg the Dao Ancestor to remove our shackles!"

The sounds rose and fell, echoing in the chaos.

Hongjun gazed at them, at those faces that were either old, sorrowful, humble, or desperate.

Suddenly he laughed.

The smile was so faint that it was almost imperceptible.

But within that smile lay a chilling undercurrent.

"Unshackle?"

Hongjun spoke slowly, his voice still calm:

"Those shackles are what you yourselves asked for."

"In Zixiao Palace, you all scramble and fight to hear this humble Taoist preach."

"On this prayer mat, you all scramble and fight for that chance to become a saint."

"Now that you are bound by shackles, you come to me begging me to remove them."

"On what grounds?"

Di Jun trembled.

He looked up at Hongjun, at that calm, almost indifferent face.

An indescribable fear welled up inside me.

The Dao Ancestor... refuses to explain?

"Dao Ancestor!"

Nuwa stepped forward, her eyes brimming with tears:

"Dao Ancestor! We know we were wrong! We beg for your mercy!"

Hongjun looked at her, his gaze still calm:

"Nuwa, do you know where you went wrong?"

Nuwa was taken aback.

Hongjun continued:

"Your mistake was in listening to Kong Xuan's words."

"He said that the laws of Heaven are shackles, and you believed him."

"You all panicked when he came to Zixiao Palace."

"He spreads his teachings to the heavens, so you go and beg the heavens to grant you his teachings."

"Now that Tongtian refuses to accept you, you have come to beg this poor Daoist for help."

He paused, his voice suddenly turning cold:

"Do any of you have even a shred of your own independent judgment?"