Primordial Era: The Witch Clan Reigns Supreme, Hongjun Begs Me to Become the Demon Emperor

Yuanshi's eyes were almost spitting fire with anger, but he had to admit that if they really fought, even if the three of them joined forces, they might not be able to gain the upper hand in this Zixiao Palace.

Moreover, the fact that Sage Hongjun has not yet made a statement speaks volumes.

Tongtian, being the most straightforward, couldn't help but send a telepathic message to his two elder brothers: "Let's give it a try! Do you think the Three Pure Ones are afraid of some wild Golden Crow?!"

Lao Tzu slowly shook his head.

He looked again at Hongjun on the cloud bed. The sage remained seated with his eyes closed, as if his soul had already wandered beyond the heavens, oblivious to the tense atmosphere within the hall. But this was precisely the clearest expression of his approval: tacit consent.

They tacitly approved of Di Yi's antics and this outrageous deal.

Lao Tzu's mind raced, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he took a deep breath, stepped forward, looked up at Emperor Yi atop the futon tower, and spoke:

"It is absolutely impossible to exchange a prayer mat for a priceless treasure. This is a legacy from the Father God, and it concerns the very foundation of our Three Pure Ones lineage."

Di Yi raised an eyebrow: "So what do you want? You can't just take it for free."

"But," Lao Tzu changed the subject, his voice as steady as an ancient well.

"If you truly desire something, fellow Daoist, perhaps you could consider changing your terms."

Di Yi's eyes lit up, showing interest: "Oh? For example?"

"The promise to help three times," Lao Tzu said calmly.

"If you ever need anything in the future, my fellow Daoist, the Three Pure Ones can each lend a hand once. After three times, the karmic debts will be settled."

This suggestion stunned everyone present.

The promises of the Three Pure Ones to intervene three times carry significant weight in the primordial world.

Kunpeng, Zhenyuanzi, Hongyun, and the others looked at each other, all feeling that Laozi had already made a huge concession.

however--

Di Yi stroked his chin, seemingly lost in thought.

A moment later, he smiled and held up two fingers, waving them:

Three times is not enough.

"Hmm?" Lao Tzu frowned.

"Nine times," Di Yi said decisively.

"Each of the Three Pure Ones will make three moves, for a total of nine. Moreover... they must swear an oath to the Great Dao to prevent anyone from reneging on their promise in the future."

"Insolence!" Yuanshi roared in fury.

"Who do you take us for?! Nine times you've attacked, and you still want to swear an oath to the Great Dao? Wishful thinking!"

Tongtian clenched his fist, the phantom of the Qingping Sword faintly appearing behind him.

Laozi raised his hand to stop his two younger brothers.

He gazed intently at Di Yi, his eyes filled with complex emotions. After a long while, just when everyone thought he would flatly refuse, he slowly spoke:

"make a deal."

"Big...Big Brother?!" Yuanshi and Tongtian exclaimed simultaneously.

Lao Tzu remained calm, as if he had just agreed not to a promise of nine times, but to some trivial matter.

He looked up at Di Yi: "Nine times you've made your move, and sworn an oath to the Great Dao. In return, I'll give you three prayer mats."

"Clever." Emperor Yi clapped his hands and laughed, then casually pulled three futons from the futon tower and tossed them to the Three Pure Ones like cabbages.

Here, one for each of you, don't fight over it.

The three Pure Ones accepted the prayer mat, their expressions extremely complex.

Yuanshi's face was ashen, Tongtian's brows were furrowed, only Laozi remained calm.

He took the first step forward and looked up at the dome of the Purple Cloud Palace—where it seemed as if an invisible Great Dao was suspended high.

"The Great Way is above."

Lao Tzu's voice was deep and powerful, echoing throughout the palace:

"I, Taiqing Laozi, hereby swear: If my fellow Daoist Emperor is ever in need, I will assist him three times. This vow is hereby made, and the Great Dao shall bear witness."

As soon as the words were spoken, a mysterious ripple suddenly descended from the dome of Zixiao Palace. It was formless and intangible, yet it shook everyone's hearts—it was the response of the Great Dao, and the oath was fulfilled.

Seeing this, Yuanshi and Tongtian knew that things had come to this point and there was no way to turn back.

The two could only stand there with grim faces and take turns swearing an oath.

"The Great Dao is above, I am Yuqing Yuanshi..."

"The Great Dao is above, I, Shangqing, reach to the heavens..."

As the final ripples of the vow dissipated, the deal was officially finalized.

"Alright, the cushions are all distributed. Everyone can sit wherever you like."

"Why are you looking at me? Look at me sitting on this extra futon."

"This futon was personally arranged by Senior Hongjun, so you can hear clearly from here. As for the futons in the back... the effect might not be as good, so please bear with it."

Everyone: "..."

What you said is as good as saying nothing at all! Everyone knows that front-row cushions are nice!

But right now, all six prayer cushions in the front row are occupied: the Three Pure Ones, Nuwa, Zhunti, and Jieyin. Who would dare to snatch them? Didn't you see how the Three Pure Ones suffered in silence?

So everyone could only hold their breath and find ordinary prayer mats to sit down.

Kunpeng slunk to the corner of the third row, while Bai Ze and the other spirits could only sit in the last few rows.

After watching the spectacle, Dijiang and Houtu simply sat down on the ground. The Wu tribe did not cultivate their primordial spirit; listening to the Dao was merely for entertainment, so it didn't matter where they sat.

The Purple Cloud Palace gradually quieted down.

Everyone looked at Hongjun on the cloud bed, waiting for the sage to begin his sermon.

Di Yi sat up straight, but a sly smile still lingered on his lips. He was secretly calculating in his mind:

The Three Pure Ones made nine promises, Nuwa owes me a personal favor, Zhunti and Jieyin recognized me as their elder brother, and I even received the merit of governing the West and the primordial power for nothing...

"This wave, this wave is a sure win."

As he was thinking, he suddenly felt a gaze fall on him.

Looking up, she met Hongjun's deep, star-like eyes, which had opened at some unknown time, on the cloud bed.

The sage looked at him, his eyes seemingly showing a faint trace of helplessness, yet also a hint of profound meaning.

Then, Hongjun spoke, his calm voice resounding throughout Zixiao Palace:

"The sermon begins."

Hongjun began to speak.

Without lengthy introductions or esoteric preambles, the sage's first words were direct and profound truths:

"Before chaos was divided, there was no form; Qi, form, and substance were all formed, and the primordial beginning arose. Existence and non-existence gave rise to each other, difficulty and ease complemented each other; high and low inclined towards each other, sound and voice harmonized with each other. The Dao is boundless and yet inexhaustible; it is like the origin of all things..."

The voice was not loud, yet it was as resonant as a great bell, each word striking deep into the hearts of every listener.

Inside the Purple Cloud Palace, flowers rained down from the sky, golden lotuses sprang from the ground, and the three thousand Great Daos manifested illusory images, flowing endlessly across the palace dome.

When a sage preaches, his words flow like a river. Every word contains the ultimate truth of heaven and earth, and every sentence resonates with the great Dao.

Those with profound cultivation, such as the Three Pure Ones and Nuwa, listened with rapt attention, their bodies radiating Daoist energy, and their cultivation progressed imperceptibly.

But Di Yi's mind was not very focused.

He sat cross-legged on the futon, appearing to be listening attentively, but in reality, he was multitasking, his divine sense quietly sweeping across the entire Zixiao Palace, observing the various aspects of the three thousand Zixiao guests.

In the first row, the Three Pure Ones sat upright and solemnly.

A phantom image of the Xuanhuang Pagoda appeared above Laozi's head, with streams of Xuanhuang energy hanging down from its body, resonating with Hongjun's preaching voice.

Behind Yuanshi, the phantom image of the Pangu Banner appeared and disappeared, seemingly deducing the principles of the creation of heaven and earth;

Tongtian was surrounded by sword energy, and the Qingping Sword hummed softly in front of his knees, as if he wanted to refine all the great Dao words he heard into sword intent.

Nuwa listened with rapt attention, her body radiating an aura of creation. Sometimes she would furrow her brow, sometimes she would smile, clearly having gained a new understanding of the "creation" principle.

From the second row onwards, one sees all walks of life.

Zhen Yuanzi held the Earth Book in his hands, which automatically turned its pages, recording the sage's true words of teaching. Hongyun listened, scratching his head and occasionally stealing glances at the prayer mats in front of him, his eyes showing a hint of grievance. He seemed to feel that he could have sat in the front row.

The Styx Ancestor's body was surrounded by a sea of ​​blood phantoms, with the Abyss and Yuan Tu swords intersecting behind him, their killing intent and Daoist charm strangely merging together.

But the most outrageous one was the ancestral witch Dijiang, who was sitting in the middle or back row.

From the very first word of Hongjun's sermon, this ancestral sorcerer of space had already fallen asleep.

"Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo"

The snoring was thunderous, the rhythm steady, and it even carried a slight spatial vibration, causing the surrounding futons to tremble slightly.

Sitting directly in front of Dijiang was the Daoist Ran Deng, whose face was filled with sorrow.

At this moment, Randeng's face turned green. He had finally managed to grab a seat near the front and wanted to listen to the Dao properly, but the Ancestral Witch behind him had fallen asleep, and his snoring made him restless and unable to receive the Dao rhythm.

Burning Lamp was inwardly bitter: He couldn't win, he really couldn't. The Ancestral Witch's physical body was incredibly strong; one punch could shatter his spirit lamp. But this snoring sound…

Just as Randeng was struggling with whether to risk his life to wake Dijiang, Houtu, the ancestral witch on the other side, finally couldn't stand it anymore.