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

Chapter 30 Emperor Yi Takes Back the Futon Again

Inside the Zixiao Palace, everyone took their seats one after another.

Di Yi remained seated firmly in the first row.

The Three Pure Ones sat upright, Nuwa took her seat, and Zhunti and Jieyin sat down next to Emperor Yi.

The demons were still squeezed into a corner. Kunpeng sat expressionlessly at the front, with Bai Ze right next to him, still pondering the saying, "Build high walls and store up plenty of grain."

The Eastern King Duke swaggered to the other end of the second row, surrounded by celestial officials such as the Star-Crowned Daoist, displaying his imposing presence.

Emperor Yi glanced around the hall, raising an eyebrow slightly.

There are fewer people.

It was about a third less than when I first preached.

Those empty prayer cushions, some in the corners, some in the middle rows, and some even not far from the front row, their original owners, some perished in the millennia of strife, some went into seclusion and never came out, and some—probably felt that coming here would be useless.

Di Yi's gaze lingered on the empty prayer mats for a moment, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

Just then.

"Buzz!"

A burst of golden light surged from his sleeve, darting towards the empty prayer mats like a nimble snake!

Wherever the golden light passed, the prayer cushions seemed to be grabbed by an invisible hand, flying up one after another, forming a string in mid-air, and then the entire imperial court flew over with a whoosh!

"What's going on?!"

"Where's the meditation cushion?!"

My meditation cushion—oh wait, no one's sitting there—

'

The guests from the Purple Cloud Pavilion stirred and turned to look at the source of the golden light.

Then they saw this:

Di Yi sat on the futon, one hand supporting his chin and the other holding a futon string.

Yes, a futon set.

A golden thread extended from his palm, with countless prayer cushions strung on it.

There could be at least several hundred, and possibly even over a thousand.

The prayer cushions were strung together like candied hawthorns, swaying and hanging precariously beside him, creating an indescribably eerie scene.

"This...this is too much!"

"Is he trying to replicate his first sermon?"

"Does anyone still want those unused meditation cushions?"

Whispers arose.

Nuwa turned to look at Di Yi, her expression subtle: "Fellow Daoist Di Yi, what are you doing—"

Di Yi winked at her, his smile enigmatic: "Fellow Daoist Nuwa, you just don't understand."

He brandished the "futon set" in his hand, his tone as if imparting some unparalleled secret technique: "Could the futons of Zixiao Palace be ordinary futons? Could the futons used by sages to preach and listen to their teachings be ordinary things?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the curious, doubtful, or envious eyes, and said slowly, "I can only say this much."

Everyone looked at each other.

Some people seemed thoughtful, some looked blank, and some had already started calculating whether they had any extra treasures they could exchange for one.

Di Yi was frantically calculating in his mind:

These futons, scattered across the ancient continent, are so sought after that people are practically fighting over them.

Which of those Zixiao guests, rogue cultivators, and ordinary beings from the primordial world who didn't come for the second sermon didn't want to absorb some of the sage's Daoist essence?

Is it too much to exchange a futon for a primordial spiritual treasure?

If I can't get a magical treasure, I'll trade it for a ten-thousand-year-old elixir. If I can't get a elixir, I'll trade it for a favor.

One thousand, one hundred — one hundred thousand — no, it has to be priced according to demand, differentiated marketing —

He was calculating his calculations perfectly when suddenly—

A vast and boundless aura emanated from the high platform.

Everyone fell silent at the same time and looked up in unison.

On the cloud bed, Hongjun's figure slowly emerged.

He was still wearing the same hempen Taoist robe, and still had that simple and unadorned face, but Di Yi stared at him for three breaths, his brows furrowing slightly.

Not right.

This aura—it was more ethereal, more distant, and less like a "human" than during the last sermon.

A thought popped into Di Yi's mind:

Could this be... achieving enlightenment?

That's not right, shouldn't one attain enlightenment only after the third sermon?

As he was pondering this, Hongjun's gaze slowly swept across the area below, pausing slightly when it landed on him.

That gaze was calm and deep, yet it seemed to hold something hidden within it.

Di Yi felt uneasy under their gaze and quickly lowered his eyes, pretending to examine the prayer mat in his hand.

Hongjun withdrew his gaze and spoke.

His voice, though not loud, resonated like heavenly music, each word striking deep into the soul: "Today I begin the second sermon. Before that, I, the old Daoist, follow the will of Heaven. The Xuanmen should have a preacher to spread its teachings and have disciples."

The moment the words "disciple" were uttered, Zixiao Palace erupted in chaos!

Isn't being a disciple simply taking on apprentices?

"The Dao Ancestor wants to take on disciples?!"

"Disciple of a sage! Direct disciple of the Xuanmen School!"

"Me! Me! Me! Dao Ancestor, look at me!"

Everyone's eyes lit up, and they rushed forward, afraid of missing the opportunity.

The Three Pure Ones remained seated, but Laozi opened his eyes, Yuanshi clenched his hand in his sleeve, and Tongtian's breathing became more rapid.

Nuwa sat up slightly, a hint of anticipation flashing in her eyes.

Zhunti and Jieyin exchanged a glance, their faces full of piety.

Even the demons in the corner couldn't help but move forward a little.

The Eastern King Duke stood up abruptly, his face displaying an expression of utter confidence.

Hongjun raised his hand and gently pressed down.

The hall fell silent instantly.

The sage's gaze fell on the leftmost figure in the first row—the Three Pure Ones.

"The Three Pure Ones".

Laozi, Yuanshi, and Tongtian all rose at the same time and bowed in respect.

"You are all transformed from the primordial spirit of Pangu, with profound roots, boundless comprehension, great perseverance, and great opportunities."

Hongjun spoke each word calmly: "Today, I accept you as my Xuanmen's personal disciples."

The Three Pure Ones were all startled.

Lao Tzu took a deep breath and bowed deeply: "Disciple Lao Tzu greets Master."

Yuanshi and Tongtian followed closely behind: "Disciples Yuanshi/Tongtian pay respects to our master!"

Hongjun nodded slightly.

Then, our gaze turned to Nuwa.

"Nuwa".

Nuwa rose and gave a graceful bow.

"You are naturally gifted, possess extraordinary comprehension, and have a pure and kind heart. Today, I accept you as the last disciple of my Xuanmen sect."

A hint of joy flashed in Nuwa's eyes, and she said respectfully, "Disciple Nuwa greets Master."

Hongjun nodded, his gaze continuing to move, landing on Zhunti and Jieyin.

"Cundi, Jieyin."

The two quickly stood up, their expressions so devout they were almost humble.

"Although your foundations are slightly inferior, your hearts are sincere in your pursuit of the Dao, and you have great aspirations. Today, I accept you as disciples of my Xuanmen sect."

Zhunti's eyes reddened, and he bowed deeply: "Disciple Zhunti greets Master!"

Jieyin bowed in return: "Disciple Jieyin greets Master!"

The decision to accept disciples by Hongjun was now finalized.

The others in the hall were either disappointed, envious, or secretly gritting their teeth, but no one dared to utter a sound.

Just then—

Hongjun's gaze fell on Di Yi.

As Di Yi was counting the prayer mats with his head down, he suddenly felt a gaze fall on his head. When he looked up, he met Hongjun's eyes, which were as calm as an ancient well.

His heart skipped a beat.

isn't it?

Di Yi quickly waved his hand: "Hey, Dao Ancestor, don't look at me, I'm just a decoration!"

He pointed to himself, then to the few who had just been accepted as disciples, his face earnest: "You see, you have your personal disciples, your closed-door disciples, and your nominal disciples, so there must still be room in the Xuanmen!"

Hongjun continued to look at him without saying a word.

Di Yi felt uneasy under their gaze. His mind raced, and he blurted out, "If you want a disciple—just give him to the head of the male immortals! He'll definitely agree!"

He pointed to the Eastern King Duke.

The Eastern King was already feeling disappointed—his name wasn't on the list of disciples he had just accepted.

Suddenly pointed at by Di Yi, he was first stunned, then overjoyed!

An opportunity! A tremendous opportunity!