Flood: I, the Nine Turns of the Golden Pillar, all want to eat me!
Chapter 22 - All Cultivators Spying, All Want to Eat Me

Chapter 22: All Cultivators Spying, All Want to Eat Me

In the blink of an eye, three thousand years swiftly approached.

Inside the Purple Heaven Palace, cultivators arrived one after another. Each of them possessed extraordinary cultivation, exuding powerful and oppressive auras.

However, the seven futons were already fully occupied. The earliest arrivals were the Three Pure Ones and Nuwa. Afterward, Red Cloud came and claimed a seat, and even Kun Peng, though late, took the last one.

Red Cloud, a kindly figure, was well-liked and sociable with many of the attending cultivators. In contrast, Kun Peng was cold and aloof, embodying the frigid temperament typical of cultivators from the Extreme North.

Xuan Qing curiously glanced at Kun Peng—a slender figure wrapped in an ice-cold aura, radiating danger with every breath.

Just as he observed quietly, a sudden commotion broke out.

“Woah, woah… Senior Brother, we are truly pitiful!”

“From the far West to the Purple Heaven Palace, we’ve suffered greatly! And now, not even a single futon remains!”

Two ragged Taoists cried out, their appearances haggard and worn from hardship. Despite their pitiful state, the gathered cultivators responded only with cold indifference.

The two did not flinch beneath the scrutiny. They looked around the hall as if expecting someone to give up their seat.

Eventually, they approached Red Cloud, the kindly one, and made their appeal. This moment would go down in history, passed on endlessly like a legend.

In the same vein, a quarrel broke out between Kun Peng and Zhunti. Tension thickened.

Within the grand Purple Heaven Palace, hostility brewed. Strangely, the surrounding guests did nothing to intervene. On the contrary—they seemed eager to watch the conflict escalate.

Xuan Qing puzzled, leaned in and whispered to Red Cloud, “How strange. Is cultivation not a cruel path? Why would you surrender your chance to another?”

He truly did not understand. The path of the Flood was treacherous. Every opportunity meant life or death. Why, then, would Red Cloud willingly relinquish his seat? Could he truly be so noble? According to the teachings of Tongtian, any cultivator who reached a certain level must have endured countless hardships. Had Red Cloud truly transcended that experience?

Nuwa chuckled softly. “Little Xuan Qing, you are still young. There are truths you cannot grasp simply by appearances.”

As she spoke, Red Cloud and the Taoists clashed, stumbling toward Nuwa.

Seeing this, Fuxi rose to intercept. “You have gone too far.”

Nuwa’s expression darkened. “Because I am a female cultivator, you think I am easy to bully?”

Her voice silenced the entire palace. The chaos fell into stillness. All eyes turned—first toward the bickering Zhunti, then toward the furious Nuwa.

And then… toward Xuan Qing.

Cradled in Nuwa’s arms, Xuan Qing suddenly found himself at the center of every gaze.

Zhunti’s eyes gleamed with greed.

“The first Dan in the Flood to take form… now cultivating the Great Dao of Dan. What a rare opportunity.”

“A divine elixir born of the Flood… Capture him. If he reaches the Great Luo, eating him may allow us to break through to the Mixed Yuan Realm.”

“Wasteful. Better to raise him in captivity. Bleed him daily for endless resources.”

“And Nuwa… to hold such a treasure…”

The words hung in the air, thick with desire and madness.

Within moments, every cultivator present turned their gaze toward Nuwa—or rather, toward Xuan Qing in her arms.

Those eyes, filled with hunger and longing, sent shivers through Xuan Qing’s body.

He understood immediately. I have been exposed.

The Dao of Dan was naturally a tonic for all Great Daos. His very essence had transformed into a Dan—of course, he would be a supreme tonic.

Should he reach the Great Luo Realm—or beyond—he would become the ultimate supplement in the Flood.

Now he realized: that even at his current level, he had already attracted countless greedy eyes. In the future, when his power grew further… how many more would covet him?

Dangerous. Immensely dangerous.

Just then, Laozi rose, flicked his horsetail whisk, and spoke with cold indifference.

“You dare harbor such thoughts toward my disciple?”

Yuan Shi Tian Zun’s tone was equally frigid.

“Xuan Qing is a disciple of the Three Pure Ones.”

Tongtian added sharply,

“Do you wish to test my Immortal Slaying Sword?”

Nuwa, no longer smiling, said coldly,

“Am I to be ignored entirely?”

In an instant, the entire Purple Heaven Palace was filled with killing intent. The air was sharp, and heavy with imminent violence.

Xuan Qing, now the unwilling focus of attention, felt thoroughly miserable. This world is too dangerous. What is happening? Why have I become a target again?

Suddenly, a profound and vast aura descended.

All the guests instantly sensed it—overwhelming majesty and incomprehensible power.

Hongjun had arrived.

His expression was cold. With a single flick of his duster, all the unruly cultivators were forced back into their seats, unable to move. It took only a moment for everyone to realize the gulf between them and this being.

With Jieyin and Zhunti now seated, Red Cloud and Kun Peng filled the remaining spots.

Xuan Qing, still held in Nuwa’s arms, was unable to move. He glanced helplessly at his master ancestor, feeling utterly aggrieved.

Hongjun swept his gaze over the crowd but spoke only briefly:

“Henceforth, no clamor shall be allowed in the Purple Heaven Palace.”

At once, the entire palace fell into absolute silence.

Satisfied, Hongjun gave a small nod, then gently flicked his whisk.

“You are all fated beings of the Purple Heaven. From now on, you shall be my guests. Listen well to my sermon.”

“We pay our respects!” came the collective reply.

Xuan Qing also bowed, though he was still tightly held by Nuwa. What is this woman thinking? Still holding me like a toy…

But he could not struggle, and could only listen in resignation.

Hongjun began, his voice soft and resonant:

“The Dao that can be spoken is not the eternal Dao… The Way emerges from chaos. The Demon Gods used the Dao to evolve divine forms, giving rise to endless Dao Rhythms and cultivation paths. The Dao was thus passed down into the Flood…”

As he spoke, fragments of the shattered Jade Butterfly floated into the air, emanating profound Dao Rhythms that enveloped the entire hall.

Within moments, all the guests entered a state of deep enlightenment.

Xuan Qing, too, felt the flow of the Dao and heard a whisper of purple rhythm from within.

「Hongjun is now preaching the Dao of Thunder. Shall I engrave it?」

“Engrave!” Xuan Qing did not hesitate. He triggered Zi Yun to inscribe the Great Dao.

The Dao Rhythm surged. Xuan Qing’s awareness sank into Zi Yun, where the Dao Rhyme—drawn from Hongjun’s teachings—was slowly molding into a thunderous form.

That thunder, evolving and shaping itself, became a Thunder Mold—the embryonic form of the Thunder Dao.

According to Zi Yun, a fully developed Great Dao would mirror the image of a Chaos Demon God. After all, their physical forms were born from the Dao itself—they were the Dao’s image.

Watching that shape emerge, Xuan Qing began to grasp it. Enlightenment dawned.

Henceforth, the path of Thunder cultivation would unfold before him with clarity.