Primordial Era: Starting by overwhelming the Sages, Hongjun was stunned!

Hongjun smiled bitterly.

That smile was bitter, full of self-mockery.

suddenly.

He was stunned.

Because he said something.

A statement he himself was unaware of.

"A dog tethered by the laws of Heaven."

Bound by the laws of Heaven.

Hongjun's pupils contracted slightly.

He looked down at his chest.

There is a shackle there.

An invisible and intangible shackle that truly exists.

That is the shackles of Heaven's will.

Those were the shackles he willingly put on when he merged with the Dao.

Back then, he broke through to the Hunyuan Taiji Grand Golden Immortal realm and wanted to go further, but he could never cross that threshold.

The will of Heaven is pressing down on him.

It was so heavy it made him feel suffocated.

He tried to break free, but he couldn't.

Left with no other choice, he decided to merge his body with the Dao.

Integrate yourself into the Way of Heaven and become its spokesperson.

At that moment, he thought he had won.

I thought I had finally reached the highest point.

He thought that in this vast world, no one could compare to him.

But he knew.

That's just self-deception.

He has never won.

He simply admitted defeat.

They lost to the will of Heaven.

They lost to that invisible shackle.

From that moment on, he was no longer Hongjun.

He is merely a puppet of Heaven's will.

A puppet in shackles, powerless to control its own destiny.

Hongjun closed his eyes.

Take a deep breath.

Those shackles weighed him down for countless years.

The pressure had made him forget that he was once a cultivator in that chaos, single-mindedly seeking the Dao.

The pressure had made him forget that he once had passion, dreams, and resentment.

The pressure had made him forget who he was.

All he remembers is...

He is the founder of Taoism.

He is the spokesperson for the Way of Heaven.

He is the teacher of all spirits.

But he forgot.

He is Hongjun.

An ordinary monk.

A prisoner trapped in shackles, forever unable to break free.

"That's enough."

Hongjun opened his eyes, his gaze dim.

"That's enough."

He muttered to himself:

That's fine.

"Be my Taoist ancestor, be my puppet."

"Anyway, we've lived through endless years like this."

He was about to get up.

suddenly.

A surge of primordial energy quietly emerged from the void.

That power was as vast as the sea, as majestic as a mountain, yet as gentle as water and as delicate as silk.

It was silent and unnoticed.

Without a trace or form.

It was as if it did not exist in this world.

But it did come.

Hongjun froze.

He sensed it.

That primordial power was surging into his body.

It surged into his limbs and bones.

It rushed into his internal organs.

He surged into the shackles of the Heavenly Dao that had bound him for countless years.

Hongjun's pupils suddenly contracted.

He wanted to hide.

But he couldn't move.

It couldn't move an inch.

He wanted to shout.

But he couldn't open his mouth.

He could only feel that power flowing through his body.

Feeling that power, touching that shackle.

Feeling that power...

With a gentle tug.

"Click..."

A soft sound.

crisp.

subtle.

But it resounded like a thunderclap in Hongjun's heart.

He was stunned.

I was completely stunned.

Because of that shackle...

broken.

That shackle that bound him for countless years, forcing him to merge his body with the Tao.

broken.

It was cut off cleanly and completely.

It was completely severed.

It's as if it never existed.

Hongjun trembled all over.

He looked down at his chest.

It was empty there.

There are no shackles.

There are no constraints.

There was nothing there.

There is only one heart.

A heart that is beating wildly.

That was his heartbeat.

That was his own heartbeat.

It's not the way of Heaven.

It is not a puppet.

It belongs to him.

Hongjun's eyes reddened.

He reached out, his hand trembling, and placed it on his chest.

Feel that heartbeat.

a bit.

a bit.

Another one.

powerful.

firm.

free.

"I...I..."

He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a complete sentence.

Tears rolled down his aged face.

He cried.

Hongjun, the Dao Ancestor, is the teacher of all spirits and the spokesperson for the Heavenly Dao.

Cried.

Cry like a child.

He knelt on the ground, his hands supporting him, his shoulders trembling violently.

Tears fell, splashing onto the bluestone floor and shattering into countless pieces.

He remembered many things.

I recall myself back then, seeking the Dao alone amidst the chaos.

Recalling that battle, when Pangu created the world and three thousand demons perished, he hid in the distance, trembling with fear.

I recall the first time I preached the Great Dao in Zixiao Palace, when the Three Pure Ones, Nuwa, Jieyin, and Zhunti all knelt before me.

The memory of being called "Dao Ancestor" made him feel elated, as if he had truly become the teacher of all spirits.

Thinking back to that choice to unite oneself with the Dao, the helplessness, the resentment, and the acceptance of fate.

Thinking back on the endless years, wearing shackles, being a puppet of the heavens, manipulating all living beings, and scheming against everything.

He thought he was already used to it.

He believed that these shackles were his fate.

He believed that this position as the Dao Ancestor was his destiny.

But today.

The shackles are broken.

He then understood.

He never got used to it.

I never accepted my fate.

Never forgotten.

Who am I?

Hongjun raised his head.

Through his teary eyes, he gazed at the open palace gates.

I looked in the direction where the figure in the black robe had disappeared.

A complex feeling, difficult to describe, welled up inside me.

I am grateful.

I feel a lingering fear.

There was a hint of... relief at surviving a disaster.

gratitude.

It was because of that person that his shackles were broken.

He was given his freedom.

I was terrified.

It's because he almost stopped that person just now.

I almost...died.

Hongjun recalled the scene from just now.

The man in the black robe pushed open the door and entered.

To address someone by their first name.

With a single gesture, he was rendered immobile.

A wisp of chaotic light made him kneel on the ground.

That power, that pressure, that unfathomable cultivation.

Hunyuan Wuji Luo Jinxian.

That is an existence that transcends the Heavenly Dao, transcends chaos, and transcends everything.

But he was nothing more than a Primordial Taiji Golden Immortal.

He's nothing but a puppet in shackles.

It's nothing but an ant.

If only he had had the slightest thought of stopping it.

If only he had dared to say "no" just now.

Will that man in black robes kill him?

Will do.

Most definitely.

That person doesn't even respect the Heavenly Dao, let alone him.

That person dared to touch even the Buddha, let alone him.

That person dared to overturn the game, let alone him.

Hongjun was filled with lingering fear.

Cold sweat trickled down my back.

The gray robe was soaked through.

He reached up and touched his neck.

Still.

The head is still there.

He's still alive.

"fine......"

He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse:

"Luckily I didn't stop them."

"Luckily, I knelt down quickly."

"fine......"

He couldn't continue.

He just knelt on the ground, panting heavily.

Like a fish pulled out of the water.

a long time.

Hongjun slowly stood up.

My legs were so weak that I couldn't even stand up straight.

He leaned against a nearby pillar, barely managing to stay upright.

Take a deep breath.

Take another deep breath.

My heartbeat gradually calmed down.

Breathing gradually became smoother.

He looked down at his hands.

Those hands stopped trembling.

He looked up at the open palace gates.

Outside the palace gates, chaos surged and gray mist swirled.

There was nothing there.

But he knew.

That person was right there in this chaos.

Right here between heaven and earth.

It's right outside of this game of chess.