Chapter 71: Entering the Wu Tribe, Pressuring Houtu

Upon witnessing Laozi attain sainthood, although the others felt envy, they also breathed a sigh of relief. At last, there was a path for transcendence; gone was the confusion and aimlessness that had plagued their cultivation before.

“Master, though we have heard of sages, we do not know the true nature of the sage’s realm. Would you enlighten us?” Laozi bowed deeply as he spoke.

“I have said before: beneath the Heavenly Dao, without great fortune, the Golden Immortal of Grand Unity is already the highest peak of cultivation. Yet the Heavenly Dao is incomplete, and it requires sages to maintain its operation. Now, the Dao is still lacking; after I finish my third sermon, I will merge with the Dao itself, to mend its shortcomings. Thereafter, I shall be the Dao, and yet the Dao is not me.”

Hongjun paused, gazing at the eager faces before him, and continued, “The sage is the Golden Immortal of Primordial Chaos, undiminished through countless eons, untouched by karma. The sage does nothing, thus suffers no defeat, nor any loss. All things may act or remain still; they may seek or exhale; they may be strong or weak; they may carry or collapse. Thus, the sage abandons folly, extravagance, and anger. Therefore, the primordial spirit of the sage may reside in the void; as long as the Heavenly Dao endures, the sage too shall remain unscathed for all eternity.”

Everyone’s eyes lit up instantly. Yuanshi hurriedly asked, “How does one attain sainthood? We beg you, Master, to instruct us!”

All eyes turned to Hongjun, filled with anticipation, hoping to glean the secrets of becoming a sage.

Hongjun simply shook his head with a faint smile. “The method of attaining sainthood I shall reveal in my next sermon. For now, this discourse is concluded. Be on your way.” With that, he nodded to Chenxing and the others, and his form vanished from the cloud-borne dais.

Watching the Dao Ancestor depart, the crowd could only leave in disappointment, unable to learn the way to sainthood. They had no choice but to disperse.

Just as Houtu was about to leave, Chenxing suddenly called out, “Fellow Daoist Houtu, we wish to visit the Wu tribe. What say you?”

Houtu was momentarily surprised, but then smiled radiantly. “If such esteemed guests grace my tribe, it is my honor. Please, follow me!” With a courteous gesture, she led Chenxing and his companions toward Buzhou Mountain.

These days, Buzhou Mountain no longer possessed its former grandeur or the oppressive aura that had once dominated the ages. It was now more like a fallen hero, traversed freely by all manner of living beings.

The Wu tribe had lived at the foot of Buzhou Mountain since their emergence, guarding the indomitable will of Father Pangu at the heart of the Pangu Hall. Every day, the Wu hunted for their food, focusing solely on tempering their bodies. Unlike the cultivators who practiced with their primordial spirits, their lives were carefree and unrestrained.

On this particular day, several strangers arrived at Houtu’s clan. Some tribesmen were about to approach and inquire, but seeing that their guide was none other than Houtu, the Ancestral Witch, they quickly saluted and stepped aside.

Houtu led Chenxing and the others into her hall. Once they were seated, she asked with a smile, “May I ask what brings you here? Surely you haven’t come only to observe how the Wu live?”

Her smile was as graceful as a lotus in bloom, captivating beyond words.

Houtu was not the only one puzzled. Even Pangzi and Fuxi looked at Chenxing in confusion, unable to fathom his purpose in coming to the Wu.

Chenxing smiled and said, “Fellow Daoist, you can now cultivate your primordial spirit, can you not?” His tone was certain.

Houtu was so startled she sprang to her feet. “How do you know this?” she blurted out.

Pangzi rolled his eyes and cut in, “What is there in this world that this guy doesn’t know? I have no idea how your Wu tribe managed to cultivate primordial spirits, but I’m sure it’s got something to do with him. How could he not know?”

He turned to Chenxing. “Am I right, Xingzi?” His eyes gleamed with self-satisfaction.

Chenxing rubbed his forehead helplessly. “Pangzi, you must have been a worm in my belly in your last life—dragged out and stomped to death before reincarnation.”

Pangzi gagged in disgust and shouted, “Get lost, you fatso!”

Chenxing dropped the banter, his face growing serious. “Though Pangzi did not guess the whole truth, he is correct on one point.”

Houtu asked, “Which point?”

“That your ability to cultivate a primordial spirit is indeed connected to me,” Chenxing replied with conviction.

Houtu looked skeptical. “What proof do you have that you helped me?”

“I didn’t help you,” Chenxing stated plainly.

“Then…”

He raised his hand to halt her question, his voice turning cold. “Someone else helped you. To do so, they paid a price beyond your imagination. Now, you must make a decision.”

Houtu was bewildered. “What decision?” She wracked her mind, unable to imagine who could possess the power to resolve the Wu’s inability to cultivate primordial spirits.

“You must not tell anyone of this—no one, not even your brothers,” Chenxing said, his voice icy.

“Impossible!” Houtu refused outright. She knew that anyone who could receive such deference from Hongjun, the first sage since the dawn of time, was no ordinary cultivator—perhaps not even her entire tribe could afford to cross him.

But her bond with her brothers was unbreakable. Now that she might be able to cultivate a primordial spirit, an event of such import to the Wu, how could she keep it from them? So she refused Chenxing’s demand without hesitation.

Seeing Houtu’s resolve, Chenxing fell silent. Nuwa, noticing the tension, quickly took Houtu’s hand and pleaded, “Sister Houtu, you should listen to Brother Chenxing. We would never harm you.” She knew all too well what Pangu had sacrificed to preserve the Wu’s legacy, so she stepped forward to persuade Houtu.

Despite Nuwa’s anxious expression, Houtu remained stubbornly silent, refusing to be swayed. Compared to her slight acquaintance with Chenxing and the others, her brothers and clan were her deepest concern.

Seeing that Houtu would not yield, Chenxing spoke calmly, “Believe it or not, but if you reveal this secret, it will bring catastrophe upon the Wu.”

Houtu looked doubtful. After a long pause, she finally spoke. “My tribe has twelve ancestral witches, each at the peak of the Golden Immortal of Grand Unity, and countless other mighty warriors. Even someone like Laozi, who has only just stepped into the realm of quasi-sainthood, could not threaten us. How can you claim we face annihilation? I do not believe it.”

Chenxing sneered, “Do you also mean to say that your ancestors have the Twelve Heavenly Gods Formation, capable of summoning Pangu’s true form, so that even sages need not be feared?”

Houtu’s face changed dramatically as she cried out, “Who are you, and how do you know these things?” Terror gripped her heart—for this was a secret known only to the twelve ancestral witches, and not even the great witches of the tribe were privy to it. It had always been their trump card, so how could the person before her possibly know?

Pangzi, ever boastful, chimed in, “What’s so strange about that? Even I know!”

Chenxing rolled his eyes at Pangzi’s antics and ignored him. He addressed Houtu coldly, “How I know is none of your concern. Just remember: if you provoke me, even Pangu cannot save the Wu.”

His tone brooked no argument.

In truth, Chenxing felt a certain vexation. Although Pangu had not grown up under his watchful eye like Little One, he was still his disciple. Why was it that the Wu inherited none of Pangu’s talent, yet fully embodied his stubbornness?

Houtu’s face darkened. Never since her birth had anyone dared threaten her, let alone endanger the fate of the entire Wu. Her anger simmered. Yet she knew Chenxing was more than capable—Hongjun’s attitude toward him made that clear enough. Since the dawn of time, Hongjun had been the first sage, yet treated Chenxing as an equal. That spoke volumes about his fearsome power.

Swallowing her fury, Houtu finally asked, “May I know why?”

After a long silence, Chenxing sighed and softened his tone. “It is only through someone’s terrible sacrifice that you, as an ancestral witch, can now cultivate a primordial spirit. It was done so that your tribe would not vanish from this world. If you reveal this, your tribe’s unparalleled bodies combined with the ability to cultivate primordial spirits will inspire terror in certain factions. For their own secretive ends, they would stop at nothing to annihilate you—would you let that person’s painstaking efforts be in vain?”

He spoke at length, and only then did Houtu’s expression begin to change. Her stubbornness eased, and Chenxing could not help but sigh inwardly. For the sake of his disciple’s last wish, he had cast aside even the dignity of a master of the Dao.

Ah, in these days, it is no easy thing to be a teacher!