The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

Chapter 119 So I am a low-budget version of Hongjun Ancestor?

The lotus slowly rotated, and after a few spins, the illusory image solidified, transforming into a physical lotus platform with a diameter of about ten feet, its entire body resembling a carved piece of green jade, with layers upon layers of petals, and flowing with a clear and ethereal Daoist aura.

The lotus platform fell silently, hovering three feet above the ground.

With a slight flutter of her robes, Zuo Qingqiu took a step forward and sat upright on the lotus platform.

Her dark Taoist robe was spread out on the jade-like lotus petals, the black and white contrasting sharply, which made her seem ethereal and otherworldly, unlike any ordinary person.

She did not speak immediately, but lowered her eyes slightly, her gaze seemingly passing over the beings below and landing on the endless void.

The square was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the newly appointed True Lord to begin his discourse on the Great Dao.

A moment later, she parted her red lips slightly, her voice not loud, but clear enough to reach the ears of everyone present. It seemed to contain some strange rhythm, ignoring spatial barriers, penetrating the protective array of Taihua Sect, and spreading out to a wider world.

"The Great Dao is formless, yet it gives birth to heaven and earth; the Great Dao is without emotion, yet it governs the sun and moon; the Great Dao is nameless, yet it nurtures all things—"

When the voice first came out, it was just an ordinary, cool female voice.

But soon, it transformed into a magnificent, vast, and deeply moving "Taoist sound".

This sound did not travel through the air, but resounded directly into the depths of the listener's soul and the foundation of their Dao.

On the plaza, regardless of their cultivation level, everyone instantly entered a mysterious and profound state of listening.

The Qi Refining disciples felt that the previously obscure techniques had suddenly become clear;

Foundation Establishment cultivators felt their magical power flowing more smoothly;

The old monster of the Purple Mansion touched upon the glimmer of light on his own path of cultivation from this sound of the Great Dao. Some of his doubts were answered, and some of his new ideas were inspired.

This is not merely a sharing of experience, but rather a "preaching field" formed by the True Lord using his own Dao attainment to resonate with the laws of heaven and earth.

Listening in this space is far more effective than practicing in seclusion; it may even lead to sudden enlightenment and a breakthrough in one's artistic potential.

This is one of the core parts of the True Lord Ceremony—the True Lord preaches the Dao, bringing blessings to all living beings.

Zuo Qingqiu, through his Yin Thunder Fruit status, communicated with Heaven and Earth, sharing some of his insights into thunder magic and the Great Dao through the "Voice of the Great Dao."

In this form, it spreads selflessly.

Anyone on the Old Earth Continent who has reached a certain level of cultivation and has a certain understanding of things can vaguely hear about it and benefit from it.

On the lotus platform, Zuo Qingqiu stood solemnly, uttering profound words, each one a gem, expounding on the mechanism of the birth and death of thunder, the principle of the transformation of yin and yang, and the way of tranquility and non-action.

Sometimes he quotes classical texts, sometimes he goes straight to the source, and sometimes he uses his own experiences as examples, making profound insights in a simple and thought-provoking way.

The jade lotus platform emitted a hazy, clear light, enveloping her and adding to her sacredness.

In the sky, faint purple-black lightning patterns flashed and disappeared, as if the Great Dao manifested strange phenomena under her words.

Time passed quietly amidst the profound sounds of Taoism.

One hour, two hours —

No one found it lengthy; instead, they felt as if they were drinking fine wine, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

As the sun began to set, this grand sermon finally drew to a close.

As the last ethereal and profound Daoist chant faded, the mysterious rhythm that lingered in the square and even the wider world slowly dissipated.

Zuo Qingqiu closed her eyes, as if savoring the moment, or perhaps trying to suppress her Daoist aura.

A moment later, she opened her eyes, a flash of purplish-black lightning appearing briefly in her clear, cold eyes before returning to calm.

The square was completely silent.

The group remained immersed in their profound insights and were unable to recover for a long time.

Their faces might show a look of sudden realization, a look of deep contemplation, or a look of wistful disappointment.

It is unclear who was the first to stand up and bow deeply to the ground.

"Thank you, True Lord, for your kindness in spreading the Dao."

Like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, it instantly creates ripples.

"Thank you, True Lord, for your kindness in spreading the Dao."

"The true ruler's great virtue benefits all living beings."

"A single conversation with you is worth more than a hundred years of good deeds."

Words of gratitude and praise surged forth like a tide, resounding through the sky, and coming from the bottom of their hearts.

Regardless of their initial intentions, those who came to listen to this profound lecture benefited to some extent, and their gratitude and respect were genuine.

On the lotus platform, Zuo Qingqiu's expression remained as cold and aloof as the moon, showing little emotion towards the clamor and praise below.

She slowly rose, and the jade lotus platform transformed into specks of blue light, disappearing into her sleeve.

According to the procedure, after the sermon ends, it is time to hold a banquet at Taihua Gate to entertain guests from all directions.

At that time, exquisite delicacies and divine wines will naturally be plentiful.

However, these trivial matters were handled by the sect leader Jiang Shaoling and the ten elders, and she, as a True Lord, did not need to personally intervene.

She nodded slightly in response to everyone's thanks, then turned to leave and return to Zixu Peak for quiet cultivation.

However, just as she was about to take a step, a voice called out, "True Lord Zixu, please wait."

A calm sound, yet with a metallic quality, rang out from the corner of the square, clearly drowning out all the noise.

The voice came from the direction of Li Baitian, the Sword Immortal of Qingping, who was sitting alone in the corner, drinking silently.

He had put down his wine glass and stood up without anyone noticing.

His bronze face showed no signs of drunkenness, and his eyes shone brightly, staring directly in the direction of the True Lord. There was no awe or humility that ordinary cultivators showed when facing a True Lord; instead, there was a sharpness that was level with him and even a hint of resistance.

The entire room fell silent instantly.

All eyes turned to Li Baitian, a mixture of surprise, confusion, amusement, and worry flowing through them.

What was the purpose of this disciple of True Lord Fu Shui calling out to True Lord Zi Xu at this moment?

Zuo Qingqiu paused in her turn, her gaze turning cold as she looked at Li Baitian, waiting for him to continue.

Li Baitian clasped his hands in a fist salute, his voice neither humble nor arrogant: "True Lord, please forgive my intrusion. I came in haste and forgot to present my sect's congratulatory gifts, which was truly impolite. I am making up for it now, and I hope you will not take offense."

With that, he flicked his sleeve.

It wasn't anything particularly dazzling; it was just an ordinary storage bag that suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

The next moment, something crashed down onto the open ground in the center of the square.

The object was enormous; as soon as it appeared, it occupied a large open space, casting a shadow that caused nearby cultivators to instinctively take several steps back.

When the smoke and dust cleared up, everyone who saw the object gasped in astonishment.

It was a huge head.

A golden lion's head, taller than an ordinary three or four-story building, with its fur a brilliant gold, still exuding a terrifying and ferocious aura even in death with its eyes closed.

The head was cleanly severed, as if by a sharp blade. The golden blood had long since congealed, like molten gold, leaving large dark golden marks on the snow-white ground.

The lion's head had its eyes wide open in anger, and its fangs were exposed. Even in death, the savage and domineering aura of a top predator and king of beasts still wafted over, causing some cultivators with slightly weaker cultivation to tremble and almost lose their footing.

"Ninth-tier peak — Golden Lion King".

"Hiss—such a strong murderous aura; he must have been a ferocious and monstrous creature before he died."

"This—how is this possible? When did the Old Land ever have a peak ninth-tier demon?"

After a brief silence, the square erupted in chaos.

The exchange of consciousness occurred frequently.