Chapter Sixty-Five: The Gathering of Great Powers in the Palace of Violet Clouds

On Fangzhang Island, Chenxing smiled faintly and murmured, “Has he become a saint? Then we’re about to witness a spectacular show.” The others on the island paid little attention to this development. Though they did not know that Nuwa had already attained sainthood, they were well aware of the existence of the great Pangu. Even if Hongjun had become a saint, could he truly surpass Pangu?

Only one person, full of joy, hurried over to Chenxing—it was the chubby Zhu Feng. Zhu’s parents had long since passed away in the small world, having lived three thousand years thanks to Chenxing’s help. It wasn’t that they couldn’t cultivate immortality; rather, the two elders refused to do so, believing that a life experiencing birth, aging, sickness, and death was complete. Zhu begged them in vain.

Since Chenxing had used the last two strands of primordial Dao energy to help Pangu repair the Chaos Pearl, he could no longer grant longevity to mortals who did not cultivate. Now, Zhu Feng, after beginning cultivation, had reached the realm of Taiyi Mystic Immortal. Though slower than the others, he refused to eat the Yellow Plum, reasoning that relying on treasures for advancement might hinder his chance to reach the peak one day. Without the constraints of lifespan, he preferred to cultivate slowly. Chenxing was left speechless; Zhu clearly had read too many novels, so Chenxing let him be.

Zhu hurried over and asked, “Star, Hongjun’s become a saint. Should we go to Zixiao Palace when the time comes?”

Chenxing rolled his eyes. “With your current cultivation, can you even enter the chaos?”

Zhu rubbed his hands and chuckled, “That’s why I came to you, brother!” Then, in a mock-threatening tone, he said, “Let me tell you, if you don’t take me to see this show, I’ll ask Pangu to take me. If chaos erupts in the wasteland, don’t blame me.”

From Chenxing’s usual actions, Zhu sensed that he was subconsciously maintaining the development of the wasteland. Since Pangu hadn’t fallen, wasn’t it his duty to protect the wasteland? Yet Chenxing forbade Pangu from revealing his identity, meanwhile doing what Pangu ought to do himself, which Zhu found perplexing.

If Zhu knew Chenxing’s true identity, he would understand. After all, maintaining the myriad worlds was the sole responsibility of the Lord of the Primordial Dao. The worlds were born from his judgment; naturally, he didn’t want them to descend into chaos again.

Chenxing could break his own rules, but only within limits. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have kept all the variables beyond the wasteland’s development confined to Fangzhang Island. If the island’s residents set foot on the wasteland, none could contend with them—not even the newly sanctified Hongjun.

Faced with Zhu’s threats, Chenxing was helpless. Zhu’s shamelessness had reached the point of making gods furious, but Chenxing couldn’t do anything about him now.

After Zhu’s parents passed, Chenxing’s mother, worried that Zhu would be too heartbroken, adopted him as her godson. Since Zhu was two months older than Chenxing, he became even more arrogant, now daring to threaten Chenxing openly.

“Fine, I’ll take you for some fun when the time comes,” Chenxing said, resigned.

“With our relationship, plus you being friends with Hongjun, do you think the Three Pure Ones will have to call me ‘Master Uncle’?” Zhu’s eyes sparkled, feeling as if he’d reached the pinnacle of life.

Zhu murmured, “Heh! The Three Pure Ones! The Western Saints! Nuwa… all my juniors… Wait, Nuwa!” He was daydreaming, but suddenly jolted awake. He quickly looked at Chenxing, who was giving him a half-smiling, half-amused look, and Zhu was stunned.

“Wait, Star, you’ve married your sister-in-law home, surely you won’t have her apprentice under Hongjun?” Zhu said, nearly collapsing.

“What do you think?” Chenxing replied with an eye roll.

“Pangu is your disciple, so you wouldn’t let your sister-in-law apprentice under him. But… wouldn’t there be one less of the Six Saints of the wasteland?” Zhu’s eyes grew brighter as he spoke, and he grinned at Chenxing. “How about I sacrifice a bit and become the sixth saint?”

Chenxing was completely speechless and explained, “A saint of the wasteland must be a native creature. You, who crossed over, don’t even think about it. Besides, if you’re satisfied with just being a Heavenly Dao Saint, you really lack ambition!”

Zhu thought for a moment. He was a man destined for the summit—how could he let a saint’s title tie him to the Heavenly Dao? He calmed down, curiously asking, “Then what are you planning to do? It seems Hongjun’s disciples are supposed to become six saints this time?”

Chenxing ignored him, tossing him a look and letting him figure it out for himself. Then he went off to dote on his wife.

Zhu pondered for a long time but couldn’t make sense of Chenxing’s intentions. He muttered, “Who’s going to benefit then? Kunpeng? Hongyun? Or Emperor Jun and Taiyi?” Shaking his head, he stopped thinking about it. As long as he could be the elder, he went off happily to show off to Pangu and Fuxi.

Time had no meaning in the wasteland; centuries passed in a blink. Many powerful beings, unaware of Zixiao Palace’s location, had already entered the chaos ahead of time.

On Kunlun Mountain, where the Three Pure Ones cultivated in seclusion, Laozi, Yuanshi, and Tongtian were discussing attending Hongjun’s lecture at Zixiao Palace.

Since participating in the Beast Calamity, they had secluded themselves on Kunlun Mountain. Thanks to the merit gained from that calamity, their cultivation had reached the peak of Great Luo Golden Immortal, just a step away from the Quasi-Saint realm. Yet no matter how they cultivated, they could not advance further.

To break through, the three had even closed themselves off for over ten thousand years, missing both the Dragon-Phoenix Calamity and the God-Demon War, but still gained nothing.

Had they gained more merit, perhaps they could have advanced smoothly, and upon emerging from seclusion, they regretted their missed opportunities.

While the Three Pure Ones were troubled by their cultivation bottleneck, Hongjun—who had once fought Shen Ni during the Beast Calamity—had become a saint and announced he would lecture at Zixiao Palace. This brought joy to the three, and they prepared to enter the chaos.

After gathering their things, they flew into the chaos, breaking through the ninefold heavenly gale and thunder barriers above the wasteland.

There were still three hundred years before Hongjun’s lecture. Many beings of the wasteland wanted to attend, but most were hindered by the wasteland’s barriers and could not enter the chaos. Some of the weaker ones were reduced to dust by the thunder and gales. The Three Pure Ones watched, sighing. Though moved by compassion, they understood this was Hongjun’s first test—only those qualified could hear the Saint’s Dao.

With a sigh, Laozi brought forth the Heaven and Earth Profound Yellow Primal Tower to protect the three of them and flew into the boundless chaos.

There were not a few beings in the wasteland capable of entering chaos. As long as one had reached the Taiyi Golden Immortal realm, they could venture into chaos and seek Zixiao Palace. Thus, Zhenyuanzi of Five Village Temple and his friend Hongyun, Kunpeng of the North Sea, Minghe of the Blood Sea—each a Great Luo Golden Immortal at the peak—entered chaos at once.

Following them were Emperor Jun and Taiyi of the demon tribe, leading several demon marshals who had reached Great Luo Golden Immortal into the chaos, seeking Zixiao Palace.

Emperor Jun and Taiyi, having established the demon tribe and gained many resources, had also reached the peak of Great Luo Golden Immortal. This journey was to seize the opportunity for further breakthrough.

The other mighty beings of the wasteland each displayed their own abilities, searching for Zixiao Palace.

Another two hundred years passed in a blink. One day, as Chenxing was sweetly entangled with Nuwa and the little demon, Zhu Feng rushed over, ignoring the murderous glint in Chenxing’s eyes and the resentful gaze of the two women. He shouted, “Star, there’s not much time left until Hongjun’s lecture. When are we going?”

“There’s still a hundred years! What’s the rush?” Chenxing said, annoyed.

“But surely some people have already reached Zixiao Palace?” Zhu said slyly.

Chenxing immediately understood. This guy was itching to show off before others. With his pitiful mid-stage Taiyi Golden Immortal cultivation, Chenxing was speechless. Those who could reach Zixiao Palace were all incomparably powerful. Zhu, wanting to act tough, was liable to get slapped dead.

Though he thought this, Chenxing would never let anyone harm Zhu Feng. After all, his own mother had adopted Zhu as her godson. If anything happened, Chenxing’s mother would skin him alive.