Demon Sword Sect’s Undercover
Chapter 689 - 689 688 Dance of the Fish and Dragon

689: Chapter 688: Dance of the Fish and Dragon 689: Chapter 688: Dance of the Fish and Dragon Originally, the debate was going well, but was repeatedly interrupted by Daoist Xintong’s untimely comments, causing discontent among many, yet others applauded her.

Daoist Xintong, like her uncle, had a sharp tongue but usually chose to remain silent.

Now, seizing the opportunity to vent, she seemingly released some pent-up anger.

The thousands of Daoists appeared thoughtful.

Although Daoist Xintong’s remarks were brief and possibly emotional, they provoked deep reflection; this was the true power of a Prophet, who didn’t even need to perform divinations to reveal the vicissitudes of life and leave people pondering endlessly.

This is a gift, yet a Prophet, often in contact with a future they see but cannot reveal, will develop such a depth.

The old Dean was both pleased and helpless, with three parts to his debate, and he still had one last question.

Thus, he once again swept through the void, and the image started to clear from its initial blur, focusing randomly on a location within several dozen miles around Red Leaf City.

As the scene became increasingly distinct, thousands of Daoists gasped in surprise, for the scene appearing was as if it was at the edge of the sky yet right before their eyes?

It was indeed the scene of the Autumn Appreciation Conference!

Such a marvelous coincidence was unprecedented at the Red Leaf Autumn Appreciation Conference.

Statistically nearly impossible, yet now it had occurred.

What did this imply?

If linked to the current real situation of the Red Leaf Daoist Academy, then…

All awaited eagerly.

The scene finally stabilized, right here, and even on the high platform, focusing on several people who were the center of attention.

In the image, the old Dean, Black Beard Daoist, White Robe Daoist, and Daoist Xintong were all clearly visible.

The Array shone upon itself, a rare sight; if the Array is such, what of man?

The old Dean stood silently, hands bound, saying nothing.

This was no longer his stage.

Black Beard Daoist always spoke first, and this time was no exception, “Three to five extremely distant paths, pure wind reaches its end; nine streams diverse, pushing and tumbling each other.

Forms follow moving things, the heart has no fixed mark; thus, the enlightened ones sometimes retreat.

Not diligent in physical duties, not distinguishing the five grains; soaring beyond ordinary, tirelessly toiling day and night.

Vastly soaked yet joyous in mutual farming; entering birds are not startled, mixed beasts…”

White Robe Daoist continued, not to outdo the former, “In late spring together with Daoist couple, spring garments freshly tried.

Post-rainforest hues, clay-carrying swallow’s sentiment.

Wild wind warms the face, mist clings to the clothes.

Bathing in song, thinking of ancient philosophers, forming long-distance alliances from afar.”

These two men were sly, capable of critiquing everything around them, but when it came to themselves…

Through the ages, self-reflection is the toughest!

Since they happened upon this image, they had no choice but to approach it from the perspective of Daoist couples, showing the unity and educational spirit of the Red Leaf Daoist Academy.

So one spoke of distant paths and pure wind, the other of Daoist couples and long alliances; in essence, the same meaning, suggesting don’t look at our competition, we are actually in good relations, just a refined disagreement between gentlemen.

Righteous in appearance.

But one must admit, it was most fitting for the current scene and correct for cultivation.

This was not the time for mutual accusations, which could lead to losses.

Although not of a very lofty purpose, they still pushed Taiji skillfully, getting through this challenge first; what could they do when the Array inadvertently shone upon itself?

The Demon Mirror of course reflects demons, was it to casually reflect oneself?

All attention returned to Daoist Xintong, eager to hear her response.

With the previous two lines set, many were filled with anticipation.

Daoist Xintong’s lips curved into a faint smile, whether in self-mockery or disdain unclear, she softly began a story,

“Imagine a lion, a tiger, a wolf, and a sheep agreed to go for a barbecue.

Some brought the stove, others brought charcoal and skewers;

The sheep then asked, ‘What should I bring?'”

The other three said in unison, “You don’t need to bring anything, just come.”

Yang, moved to tears, wept, “To be friends with you all is a blessing I earned in my past life!”

On the high platform, there were exactly four people, and Daoist Zhu’s story immediately plunged the other three into an awkward situation, not only including the aggressively behaving Daoists with black beards and white robes but also the seemingly indifferent old Dean.

So, is he a lion, a tiger, or a wolf?

Someone began to understand that this old Dean might be a wolf lying in wait in the dark.

Power intoxicates, who has ever heard of someone relinquishing power because of poor health or old age?

They only know to grasp power even tighter, refusing to let go whether alive or dead.

Therefore, it goes without saying who was secretly exerting force to push Daoist Zhu into the fray to stir up trouble; in Red Leaf City, who else besides him possesses such an ability to create something out of nothing?

Is it nothing more than the high echelons of Taihao wanting a replacement, while the old Dean clings to his post and cannot openly resist, so he resorts to such intrigue, allowing the two main competitors to be frustrated, thus forcing the upper management to tolerate him for a few more years?

These words, Daoist Zhu did not want to articulate clearly, but given the circumstances, she could no longer keep retreating; Cultivators must speak of a clear and penetrating mind.

A certain degree of tolerance is acceptable, but one must not be without limits, or else the one who suffers will only be oneself.

Today is her birthday, and she did not want to demean herself.

These words, expressed through the story, were understood by all present, who were wise; who could fail to grasp this?

This touched some raw nerves, very insensitive, couldn’t she just quietly play a subsidiary role?

The bearded Daoist questioned her, “Poetry is to express conviction, is Daoist Zhu merely treating it as a rustic tale, showing disdain for us?”

The white-robed Daoist dissatisfied, said, “Speak plainly, do not speak in riddles or veiled insults.”

The old Dean opened his eyes, still amiable, but a cold light flickered deep within his gaze, “In such a situation, let’s stick to poetry, to maintain a beginning and an end.”

The three finally stood together, united against this unruly pawn, as they realized not only the numerous Daoists below but also some specially invited visiting family cultivators were showing appreciation for Daoist Zhu; such a trend was dangerous.

Daoist Zhu scoffed, unconcerned, and casually chanted, “Treasure searches the remaining stones, stones transform the hidden Grotto Heaven.

Three parts water know the fish’s joy, nine bends watch humans play as ants.

Beyond the wastes is a mountain that harbors daoist couples, and no place in the sea is without Ying Province.

In future years will enter the annals of immortals, once lingering on the phoenix carriages for half a day.”

She spoke of daoist couples, yet spoke of freedom and boundlessness; Desolate Mountain, overseas, meant the oceans allowed fish to leap, the skies let birds fly, the so-called daoist couples need not huddle daily, entangled in manipulation, hypocrisy, losing cultivators’ hearts.

The bearded Daoist laughed loudly, “Desolate Mountain is Desolate Mountain, Ying Province is Ying Province, but this place is Red Leaf City, not to be mentioned in the same breath; Daoist Zhu’s words are quite far-fetched, with a hint of grandstanding and fishing for fame.”

Daoist Zhu ignored him, dropped her gaze, and spoke no more.

At that moment, the skies above the Daoist temple stirred as if a tsunami was approaching!

Thousands of Daoists were astonished, not understanding why such changes were occurring in the heavens and the earth?

Just before dawn, everyone felt as if the sky overhead had changed color, shimmering with glimmers, vast like smoke, with the sound of tides overwhelming, Dragons leaping…

Great whales traversing, turbulent waves emptying the skies, distant songs echoing, Immortal Islands faintly visible…

Enormous Sea Realm appeared over the sky of the autumn viewing assembly, as if truly amidst the ocean, one could even smell the briny scent.

Thus it repeated, as if Immortal Island was within reach…

until the sunlight pierced through the water layers, the waves gently dispersed, turning into a line of giant words:

Happy Birthday, Zhu Xintong!