Chapter Seventy-Six: A Stroll Among the Human Race

With a grand sweep of his sleeve, Ancestor Hongjun transformed the two young attendants, Haotian and Jade Pool, before the assembly. Instantly, the boy became a striking young man, exuding an aura of authority, while the girl turned into a slender, delicate beauty with refined features. The two immediately knelt before Ancestor Hongjun, expressing their gratitude with reverence. “Thank you, Master, for your boundless kindness. Thank you, Master, for your grace.”

“Since you are to rule the Celestial Court, would you go without any protection?” Ancestor Hongjun’s words were followed by gifts: to Haotian, he bestowed a seal, a mirror, and a sword; to Jade Pool, a hairpin, a dragon-headed staff, and a peach tree.

There was no need to guess their significance. The seal was the “Haotian Seal” for handling state affairs in Heaven; the mirror, the famed “Haotian Mirror,” was no ordinary artifact—it could imprison demons and spirits, rendering them immobile, and its gaze could reach any corner of the vast world. The sword was the “Haotian Sword,” a bane to the cultivators of the ancient world, though its effect on the Wu clan was limited.

As for Jade Pool, her hairpin was the very one that later separated the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl; the dragon-headed staff was none other than Ancestor Hongjun’s own treasure upon attaining sainthood, its power beyond measure. The peach tree was the legendary Peaches of Immortality, one among the ten greatest spiritual trees of the ancient world.

Having distributed these treasures, Ancestor Hongjun ordered Haotian and Jade Pool to withdraw and proceed to their duties in the Celestial Court.

“The Heavenly Way offers fifty paths, yet one is held back—this is the sliver of hope. As disciples of the Dao, we must be ready to sacrifice for it. Moreover, the black dragon beneath Buzhou Mountain yet stirs unrest. Therefore, I have resolved to merge with the Dao.” Ancestor Hongjun’s words were simple and sincere, without a hint of guile. Though his eyes flickered with uncertainty, his resolve shone through.

“Master!” No words could encompass the gratitude owed to Ancestor Hongjun for his contributions to the world. All present bowed in awe.

“Go now, go on,” Ancestor Hongjun said, and with a wave of his hand, sent the gathering to the palace gates.

His words set the Three Pure Ones deep in thought. Without sainthood, they remained as ants in the grand scheme. Their cultivation had reached the late peak of the Golden Immortal of the Great Firmament, just a step from sainthood—but that final step seemed as vast as the divide between heaven and earth.

Previously, the merit granted by Ancestor Hongjun, along with that gained from mending the heavens, had allowed them to reach this pinnacle. Yet, no matter how much they cultivated, they could not cross that last threshold—a gap that tormented them deeply.

Now, with Ancestor Hongjun choosing to merge with the Dao, any future crisis would fall solely upon their shoulders. Attaining sainthood was a matter of utmost urgency.

Tongtian, knowing from future knowledge that if Grand Supreme Elder Lord (Taishang Laojun) did not become a saint, none of the others could do so before him—setting aside Nuwa, of course—pondered: what was required to become a saint? Opportunity! And where was opportunity found? In the human race! Yet, could Tongtian say this? Dare he?

He knew from future ages that no major events would occur soon, but could he guarantee nothing would happen? If even Ancestor Hongjun could not be certain—why else would he merge with the Dao?—how could he?
After much internal debate, Tongtian approached Grand Supreme Elder Lord, who was walking ahead. “Eldest brother, please wait,” he called.

Elder Lord and the others halted. Turning around, Elder Lord asked, “Third brother, what is it?”

With a beaming smile, Tongtian inquired, “What does eldest brother think of the human race that Lady Nuwa created?”

At that moment, Lady Nuwa let out a surprised, “Oh?” The assembly turned to her, but she quickly dismissed their curiosity. “It’s nothing, nothing,” she said, refusing to elaborate.

Nonetheless, her reaction sowed seeds of suspicion among them. Did the human race possess some extraordinary quality?

“Let us go see for ourselves,” Elder Lord suggested with a smile.

“Eldest brother, perhaps you should reconsider,” interjected Primordial Lord of Heaven, uneasy at Tongtian’s apparent attempt to curry favor.

“There’s no need to reconsider, second brother. Let us go,” Elder Lord replied coolly. It was not without reason; Primordial Lord had often isolated Tongtian, making it difficult for Elder Lord to mediate.

Primordial Lord’s face turned ashen. Though the difference between “eldest brother” and “senior brother” was but a single word, the implication was clear—the rift within the Three Pure Ones had grown wide.

Meanwhile, the two Western Sages, Receiving and Guiding, watched with secret delight. After the war between gods and demons, the balance of power in the world would inevitably be reshuffled. The division among the Three Pure Ones weakened their fortunes, granting the Western Sages a precious opportunity. Was this the beginning of the great rise of the West? Still, their faces betrayed none of these thoughts.

“We hail from the West and have yet to encounter the human race. Would Brother Tongtian be so kind as to guide us?” Receiving Sage inquired, his words a direct blow to Primordial Lord, though his manner revealed no trace of resentment—a masterstroke of calculation.

“Not at all, please, this way,” Tongtian replied.

“Second brother, why not come with us?” Tongtian said, taking Primordial Lord’s sleeve and urging him forward. When Primordial Lord lingered behind, Tongtian approached again.

“I will go on my own,” Primordial Lord replied, his anger dissipating in the face of his brother’s goodwill.

In Buzhou Mountain, Xuan Daozi had already prepared to welcome the guests from the Purple Cloud Palace. During the war between gods and demons, Tongtian had instructed Xuan Daozi to protect the human race, and so, until now, they had remained unharmed.

After the war and Lady Nuwa’s mending of the heavens, the human race entered a period of rapid development. In the past, numbers were their strength, relying on group tactics; but after the war with the demons, their leaders realized true power was paramount. Thus, though their population now numbered only fifty million, the humans had become a force to be reckoned with in the world.

“Honored guests, you have traveled far and I was remiss not to greet you sooner. I beg your pardon,” Xuan Daozi said, standing in Daoist robes upon a cloud, a true immortal of virtue.

“You are too kind,” replied Elder Lord and the others, saluting him in return.

“Please, come in,” Xuan Daozi urged, inviting them into the realm where humans dwelled. To ensure their protection, he had erected a great formation spanning thousands of miles around the territory, safeguarding the lives of the human race.