My classmates chose martial arts and fantasy, but I chose the prehistoric world.

Chapter 32 Long time no see, how are you?

The two ancient palace doors, closed for who knows how many years, slowly opened inward.

Inside the gate, celestial light swirled, Daoist rhythms flowed, and the scene was hazy, with only the vast primordial Dao intent emanating from it.

All those outside the palace, regardless of their level of cultivation, felt a sense of awe and stood solemnly in silence.

"The palace gates are open; those who are destined may enter to hear the teachings."

A child's voice, innocent yet imbued with supreme authority, rang out.

Two young Taoist boys, a man and a woman, walked out side by side and stood by the door.

The boy in the golden-patterned Taoist robe with delicate features is Haotian;

The pretty girl in the rosy dress, with bright, intelligent eyes, is Yaochi.

The two of them represented the first sage of the primordial world within the palace, and no one dared to neglect them.

Upon hearing the sound, the three thousand guests rose and entered the room in turn.

The Three Pure Ones led the way, with Laozi riding an ox, Yuanshi riding a chariot, and Tongtian wielding a sword, taking the lead in stepping in.

Nuwa, Fuxi, Dijun, Taiyi, and others followed closely behind.

The ancestral witches also moved.

Zhu Jiuyin flapped his wings and entered first, followed by Zhu Rong, Gong Gong, and others.

Hou Tu Xing was last. Before stepping in, she turned back and glanced in Meng Chuan's direction.

Meng Chuan suppressed his emotions and followed the crowd into the palace gate.

Once you cross the threshold, the outside noise suddenly ceases.

Before me lay a vast Daoist temple, the ground neither gold nor jade, and the endless starry sky above, the stars shining and dimming in accordance with the trajectory of the Great Dao.

At the very front, a nine-zhang-high platform stands majestically. Although the seat of the sage is empty, it draws all eyes to it.

Near the stage, six prayer cushions were placed still, with Daoist runes faintly visible on their surfaces—everyone knew that the best opportunity was right before their eyes.

Almost instantly, all the cultivators tensed up.

The Three Pure Ones are closest to each other and took their seats almost simultaneously, with Laozi at the head, followed by Yuanshi Tianzun, and then Tongtian.

No one objected, and no one dared to argue.

On the fourth prayer mat, Nuwa gracefully sat down under the protection of Fuxi.

On the fifth futon, a flash of red light appeared, and the Old Ancestor Hongyun sat down with a smile, his carefree nature leading him without any other thoughts.

The sixth prayer mat was seized by the demon master Kunpeng, who used his extreme speed to transform into a black shadow.

Each of the six prayer cushions has its own owner.

Those who arrived later, though unwilling, could only find a seat at the back.

Meng Chuan chose a spot near the front, his gaze sweeping over the six prayer cushions.

He knew the predetermined outcome, so he did not contest it.

Moreover, the real upheaval has yet to begin.

Sure enough, a long, sorrowful sigh came from outside the palace gates.

"Senior brother, we have come from the barren lands of the West, enduring countless hardships to reach this place, yet we are not even offered a seat. How tragic!"

The Guide, looking distressed, staggered in, supporting each other. Their robes were tattered, their breaths weak, and their appearance pitiful.

Zhunti's eyes reddened, and he said to the audience with a sorrowful voice, "The Western land is barren, and the living beings suffer. My fellow disciples and I vowed to save all beings. We came from thousands of miles away after hearing the Dao Ancestor preach the Dao, hoping to hear the Great Dao and relieve the suffering of the West."

"Now there isn't even a place near the front; could it be that even Heaven doesn't pity the West?"

His performance was so moving that it touched the hearts of all who heard it.

Some people looked on with sympathy, but no one spoke up.

Seeing the pitiful state of the man sitting on the fifth futon, the old ancestor Hongyun, whose kind nature had been triggered, hesitated for a moment and then stood up and said, "Fellow Daoist, do not grieve. I will give this seat to you."

After saying that, he actually gave up the prayer mat.

Zhunti was overjoyed, thanked him repeatedly, and immediately sat down.

Hongyun then stepped back and stood with her friend Zhen Yuanzi.

Zhen Yuanzi frowned slightly, sighed softly, and said no more.

Having secured fifth place, Zhunti turned his gaze to the Kunpeng on the sixth futon.

Kunpeng's face darkened, and he felt a sense of foreboding.

Zhunti immediately raised his voice and said, "Fellow Daoist Kunpeng, you are but a creature with fur and horns. What virtue or ability do you possess to be ranked alongside the Three Pure Ones? This position is not yours to occupy!"

The entire room fell silent.

Kunpeng's face turned ashen, and a demonic aura surged forth: "Zhunti! How dare you insult me?!"

Yuanshi, who already despised such creatures born from moisture and eggs, coldly echoed, "Fellow Daoist Zhunti is right. Zixiao Palace is the Daoist temple of sages, where the Great Dao of Primordial Chaos is taught. How can we, the true descendants of Pangu, sit at the same table with those born from moisture and eggs?"

As one of the Three Pure Ones and a mid-stage Great Luo Immortal, his words carry immense weight.

Jieyin also spoke at the opportune moment, his voice filled with compassion: "Fellow Daoist Kunpeng, this position is related to the opportunity of the Great Dao. Giving up this position is also a meritorious act."

First came the accusations from Zhunti, then the characterization by Yuanshi, and finally the finishing blow from Jieyin.

Kunpeng felt as if countless gazes were piercing his back.

He looked at Di Jun and Tai Yi, hoping that the fellow demons would speak up, but the two remained silent and watched.

Kunpeng felt a chill in his heart, knowing that his position was in jeopardy.

If we don't give in, we will offend not only Zhunti and Jieyin, but also Yuanshi Tianzun and even the Three Pure Ones.

"Good! Good! Good!"

He gritted his teeth and said three times, then stood up angrily, gave up the prayer mat, glared fiercely at Zhunti and Yuanshi, turned around and walked away, his face ashen.

Then, his venomous gaze pierced Hongyun.

If Hongyun hadn't feigned kindness and given up one seat, none of what followed would have happened.

Zhunti sat on the sixth futon as he wished, and looked at Jieyin with a smug look in his eyes.

Thus, the six meditation cushions were finally determined: Laozi, Yuanshi, Tongtian, Nuwa, Jieyin, and Zhunti.

Meng Chuan observed everything calmly, understanding everything in his heart.

The debate over the futon is indeed a classic.

This is the primordial world, where strength, background, scheming, and opportunity are all indispensable.

Hongyun's act of yielding his position out of kindness sowed the seeds of karma.

Kunpeng harbored resentment because he was bullied because of his origins;

The two Westerners succeeded in their scheme, but they also incurred karmic debt to Hongyun and offended Kunpeng.

All seeds are sown here.

His gaze turned to the location of the ancestral shaman.

Zhu Jiuyin, Zhu Rong, and others sat together, indifferent to the dispute over the prayer mats, feeling quite bored.

What Hongjun spoke of was the Great Dao of the Primordial Spirit, which was like a heavenly book to the ancestral witches who did not cultivate the Primordial Spirit.

Houtu sat alone a little further away, her eyes slightly closed, as if she were quietly comprehending the Dao.

She is the only ancestral witch who can and is willing to listen to this teaching.

As if sensing his gaze, Houtu's eyelashes trembled slightly, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

Their eyes met again through the shadows.

This time, there was no further disturbance.

Looking at her, Meng Chuan, after four thousand years of arduous cultivation and four thousand years of longing, felt a thousand words welling up at his lips...

In the end, it all turned into a faint smile that only she could understand.

He nodded slightly, silently mouthing to her:

"Long time no see, how are you?"

Houtu gazed at him silently.

A slight ripple spread across his calm eyes.

She didn't respond, but simply nodded slightly to him.

Then, she closed her eyes again, as if the momentary encounter had been just an illusion.

But Meng Chuan knew she had received it.

That's enough.

He composed himself and looked up at the high platform.

The primordial Daoist energy grew increasingly rich, and the flow of the starry sky gradually slowed.

A blurry figure had quietly taken up a seat on the table sometime during the night.