In a hidden immortal grotto in the East, the Three Pure Ones sat in a circle, their eyes glowing like torches as they pierced the veil of the West. They felt the surging, golden providence of Mount Sumeru as if it were a physical weight.
"Jieyin and Zhunti... they've reached Perfection," Yuanshi hissed, his face contorted with a mixture of envy and rage. If the Twelve Ancestral Witches hadn't broken his rhythm and plundered his luck, he would be standing at that peak himself. Now, he was being overtaken by the "barbarians" of the barren West.
"To bind the luck of a land to one's own soul... it is a dangerous but immeasurable gamble," Laozi said softly, though his knuckles were white. "They turned their birthplace's ruin into a blessing. We must not fall behind. The Pangu legacy cannot be overshadowed by the Western Vows."
Across the world, the same realization hit home. From the depths of the Sea of Blood to the peaks of West Kunlun, every major power went into a frenzy of cultivation. Everyone wanted to reach the peak of Grand Unity Golden Immortal before the Ancestor of Dao began his second lecture.
The Sun Star.
Ling Xiao was genuinely impressed. He hadn't expected the Western duo to start their "Great Vows" strategy this early.
If this were my old world, Ling Xiao thought with a smirk, these two would be the ultimate life coaches or pyramid scheme masters. They literally talk their way into power.
While others spent eons refining their essence and meditating on the laws, Jieyin and Zhunti were effectively taking out a massive loan from the Heavenly Dao, using their future "Sainthood" as collateral.
Ling Xiao looked inward. Above his head, the Three Flowers of his soul were in full bloom, surrounded by a dense, golden Dao rhythm. He, too, had reached Grand Unity Golden Immortal Perfection.
But it's not enough, he mused. If I don't reach the Hun Yuan Golden Immortal level before they become Sages, I'll be a target.
As he prepared to dive back into the Law of Thunder, two powerful signatures rippled across the Sun Star's perimeter. He recognized Hong Yun immediately, which meant the stoic, heavy aura beside him could only be the "Ancestor of Earth Immortals," Zhenyuanzi.
"Fellow Daoists," Ling Xiao's voice echoed out into the void, ethereal and welcoming. "Please, come in."
"Coming, coming!" Hong Yun's cheerful voice preceded him as he and a wary Zhenyuanzi descended through the solar flares.
Zhenyuanzi's eyes flickered with surprise. He couldn't quite pin down Ling Xiao's exact depth, but his intuition—honed by the earth itself—told him this Golden Crow was far more dangerous than he appeared.
"Fellow Daoist Ling Xiao!" Hong Yun chirped, his face red with exertion. "Meet Zhenyuanzi of Wuzhuang Temple. We didn't come to sightsee—we're here to help! Those two from the West have reached Perfection and they're looking for blood. I dragged Zhenyuanzi here so we can hold the line with you."
Ling Xiao felt a genuine warmth for the red-robed immortal. In a world of cold calculation, Hong Yun's sincerity was a rare treasure.
"It's no matter," Ling Xiao said, his tone casual, almost bored. "If Jieyin and Zhunti dare to set foot on the Sun Star, I'll ensure they have no return path. They can stay here as fertilizer for the Fusang tree."
Zhenyuanzi's jaw tightened. Arrogant, he thought, but then he looked at the flickering formations surrounding the star. He saw a glimmer of a killing intent so sharp it made his own soul shiver. Or perhaps... prepared.
"Thank you both," Ling Xiao added, raising a hand to stop Hong Yun's frantic protests. "I know the risks. I am ready."
The conversation shifted. Hong Yun, never one to miss an opportunity, brought up the Innate Loam.
"We want to borrow some soil from your gourd vine," Hong Yun blurted out. "We're thinking of moving the Ginseng Fruit tree away from the West!"
Zhenyuanzi looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. "Ignore him, Fellow Daoist. It was his idea, not mine... though the prospect is... interesting."
"Whenever you're ready, the soil is yours," Ling Xiao promised with a grin.
The gathering grew as Di Jun and Tai Yi emerged from their seclusion. Di Jun, ever the host, insisted on a Dao discussion.
"Big Brother," Ling Xiao teased, "didn't you say you wouldn't leave your egg until you reached Perfection?"
Di Jun's face turned as red as a solar flare. "Guests are here! I have to show hospitality! Don't be so blunt!"
The five of them sat in a circle beneath the Fusang tree. The discussion lasted over a thousand years. Light collided with earth; fire danced with the red clouds of the sky. Each found new insights in the others' paths, their auras stabilizing and sharpening.
Suddenly, the world trembled.
The Nine Heavens shook, and a pillar of violet, chaotic light pierced the universe. High in the clouds, the mirage of Zixiao Palace solidified. There was no bell in sight, but the sound of eighty-one tolls—the Nine-Nine Rings—vibrated through every soul in the Great Desolation.
The second sermon was beginning.