Chapter Forty-Eight: Secret Council at the Violet Firmament

It is said that the Supreme Lord Laozi and the Primordial Heavenly Venerable arrived together at the Sage’s sacred ground, where they found the Ancestor Hongjun gazing at them with a light and effortless demeanor. The two immediately bowed and paid their respects: “May our teacher enjoy boundless longevity, equal to Heaven itself.”

The Ancestor Hongjun waved his hand lightly through the air and said, “You may rise.” The two took their seats upon the cushions, intending to speak, when once again they heard, “May our teacher enjoy boundless longevity, equal to Heaven itself.” It was the Western Sages, the Receiving Saint and the Quasi-Ti, who had come forward to pay their homage. Soon after, Zhenyuanzi and the Ancient Redcloud also arrived to offer their respects, and the Ancestor responded to each in turn.

“Master, what is the story behind the seal within the River of Time and Space?” Quasi-Ti, as ever, was heedless of propriety and asked Ancestor Hongjun directly. At the very least, he could have been more tactful, but such was not his way; he was forthright and unreserved.

Ancestor Hongjun arched his brows slightly, looking at the assembly below, and replied, “This is but the work of a thread of vitality outside the Heavenly Dao; it is of little consequence to you all.” In his heart, he could not help but feel some annoyance toward Quasi-Ti, the Western Sage. Since you give me no face, I shall return the favor. He continued, “There is no great danger in this matter; Receiving Saint and Quasi-Ti may withdraw.” With a wave of his hand, the two vanished from their cushions.

Moments later, the pair reappeared at the palace gates. The Receiving Saint sighed and dragged away Quasi-Ti, who was still loudly protesting the teacher’s injustice, and in an instant they disappeared from the Purple Cloud Palace.

The others in the hall grew even more respectful and astonished at Ancestor Hongjun—what kind of cultivation was this, that not the slightest ripple of space was stirred? Such mastery left them bewildered.

“Where are Zhenyuanzi and Redcloud?” Ancestor Hongjun’s gaze, misty and profound, fell upon them, making both Zhenyuanzi and Redcloud uneasy to their very core. Such was the might of his presence that, even as early-stage Golden Immortals, they found their spirits unsettled—a testament to the depth of Hongjun’s Dao and the vastness of his power.

“We are here, Master,” Zhenyuanzi and Redcloud approached and replied.

“You are to go immediately and support the Human Tribe.” The words carried an unmistakable threat. From this it was clear that Ancestor Hongjun intended to abandon Tongtian, mentioning only the Human Tribe; so long as a single human remained, this endeavor would be counted a success.

The two accepted their orders and departed without a word.

“Master, is Tongtian unharmed?” Supreme Lord Laozi and Primordial Heavenly Venerable discerned the implication in Ancestor Hongjun’s words—it was plain that he meant to forsake Tongtian. How could these two brothers accept such a thing?

“I know my limits. Tongtian will suffer some punishment, but nothing fatal.” Ancestor Hongjun, hearing their question, understood that Laozi and the Primordial Heavenly Venerable still harbored affection for Tongtian.

Hearing this, the two sighed in relief, their anxiety eased.

“Do not forget, rescuing Tongtian today will only make your days ahead more difficult. After all, Tongtian is a man from the future, and even I cannot foresee what is to come.” Observing their worry, Ancestor Hongjun decided it was time to give them a stern warning to steady their nerves.

“But after countless aeons together, we know Tongtian’s character well—there is nothing to fear.” After all, they had been brothers for eons; to claim no feeling would be false. Yet, upon hearing that Tongtian was not truly their “brother,” even the ever-calm mind of Laozi was shaken.

“Within the Great Dao there may exist a thread of vitality, but when that thread grows strong enough, it can shift the course of fate, altering the operation of Heaven itself. At that time, all the beings of the Wilds will face catastrophe.” In truth, the Heavenly Dao, born of the Great Dao’s will, allows for some variables, but those variables must remain under its control; otherwise, the grand design is disrupted.

At these words, Laozi was rendered speechless—he had to admit, who could tell if this man from the future would change his heart? He knew the trends of the future, the events yet to come; if he altered the trajectory of the Wilds, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“May I ask, Master, what is this thread of vitality sealed within the River of Time and Space?” To resolve Laozi’s doubts and shift the topic, the Primordial Heavenly Venerable addressed Ancestor Hongjun. Because of Quasi-Ti’s earlier interruption, Hongjun had not explained fully; to dispel the awkwardness, the Primordial Heavenly Venerable now inquired.

“After I attained the Dao, I came to the Outer Heavens, hoping to establish a place to enlighten the living beings of the Wilds. Unexpectedly, at that moment, a Daoist appeared without a sound, singing:

‘When chaos reigned, the Great Dao was born,
In the world of primordial mist, Pangu emerged.
A single willow branch covers the world,
A thread of vitality for all living things.’

That Daoist prevented me from opening the space, and so I fought him. But no matter what treasures or magical artifacts I summoned, none availed me; in no time, he had taken all the treasures and spiritual objects from my hands. In the end, I conceded defeat first. That Daoist then said,

‘I attained the Dao three thousand years before you.’

And with that, he vanished without a trace.” As he recalled the bitter scene of his defeat, Ancestor Hongjun could only give a wry smile.

As the saying goes, “The speaker is unintentional, but the listener takes it to heart.” At once, Laozi and the Primordial Heavenly Venerable widened their eyes in astonishment—this was simply impossible, yet it had happened all the same.

“What is the name of that senior?” The Primordial Heavenly Venerable asked Ancestor Hongjun.

“That Daoist is called ‘The Willow Sage.’ Not only is this sealing of the River of Time and Space his doing, but even Tongtian’s transmigration was orchestrated by this Willow Sage.” Ancestor Hongjun stared intently at Laozi and the Primordial Heavenly Venerable.

Upon hearing of the seal, Laozi and the Primordial Heavenly Venerable immediately paid careful heed. But when they learned how Tongtian had come to this world, they lowered their heads, lost in thought, murmuring, “So that is how it is.”

Within the Five Sacred Mountains’ Wuzhuang Temple, Zhenyuanzi explained to Tongtian that he had been summoned by Ancestor Hongjun to the Purple Cloud Palace, describing also the embarrassed state of the Receiving Saint and Quasi-Ti. Tongtian did not rejoice at their plight; instead, he became curious about why Laozi and the Primordial Heavenly Venerable had gone to the Purple Cloud Palace.

After bidding farewell to the two, Tongtian mounted the clouds and set off towards Mount Kunlun.

“Brother, are you sure about this—?” Redcloud, who had just been indulging himself moments before, now spoke seriously to Zhenyuanzi. The shrewdness in Redcloud’s eyes belied his earlier carefree demeanor. Who says Redcloud is simple-minded? In this world of the Wilds, where intrigue is commonplace, Redcloud is hardly a naive soul.

“It is nothing. I believe Tongtian and the Human Tribe share a destiny. Furthermore, our own fortunes lie with the Human Tribe. Since Tongtian’s benevolent avatar is the Holy Father of humanity, there is more to gain than to lose.” Had anyone else been present to hear these words, they would scarcely believe that Zhenyuan Immortal himself had spoken them.

Redcloud’s eyes flickered as he pondered, then nodded in agreement.