Taiji Hall.
Emperor Ziwei of the North Pole slowly opened his eyes and waved his hand. The hall doors slamd shut, dismissing the nearby attendant reporting Guanyin’s entry into the city.
He sat alone on his throne, his expression dark as water, with eyes slightly lowered.
The lamps on both sides of the Taiji Hall flickered uncertainly.
The Northern Emperor sat in silence, and sat.
For a long, long ti.
He gently exhaled a breath of turbid air, his face wavering unpredictably, muttering to himself:
"Besides Taibai, who else?"
"Haven’t found out yet." A being erged from the shadows, appearing like a pure great solar brilliance.
It respectfully said:
"This is the communication between Taibai and that World Venerate’s ssenger..."
Light and shadow appeared, revealing the conversation between Lin Changle and Li Xiuyuan.
The Northern Emperor quietly watched everything and suddenly asked:
"Did Li Jing seek an audience?"
"He did not," the ball of solar light replied softly, "Master, does Li Jing have a problem?"
The Northern Emperor’s expression was enigmatic and calmly said:
"In the Eight Sceneries Palace, he’s present."
"It seems that the friend in the Eight Sceneries Palace is using him as a chess piece, one Li Jing, one Taibai..."
"However, these thods are sowhat crude."
Listening to the Northern Emperor, the solar light seed thoughtful:
"Crude?"
"Indeed."
The Northern Emperor lowered his eyes, a deep abyss within them:
"Among the Supre Beings, the one from the Eight Sceneries Palace is the least visible and the least interfering in worldly affairs, advocating inaction."
"But."
After a pause, the Northern Emperor’s voice suddenly sharpened:
"Yet among the Supre Beings, he is the one most adept at strategy, never personally participating, never personally appearing, only going with the flow and letting things unfold as they may."
"Yet he can weave grand sches, making the montum of heaven and earth align with his intentions..."
The solar light seed to comprehend:
"So the current presence in the Eight Sceneries Palace is not truly him?"
The Northern Emperor pondered for a mont, nodded, but then shook his head:
"I dare not be certain."
He sighed deeply:
"The Supre Beings are the hardest to fathom. The anomalies they display, the vulnerabilities exposed, might just be part of their cunning plans."
"In the billions of resets of history over ti, where mortals opposed the heavens and rebelled against the Supre Beings, there have been a total of one thousand and eight instances."
"And these one thousand and eight rebellions against the Supre Beings were all orchestrated by the Supre Beings themselves."
Listening to the Northern Emperor, the solar light fell silent, softly lanting:
"To resist the Supre, to resist fate, in itself is the will of fate."
"Indeed."
The Northern Emperor nodded, his expression even more profound, as if recalling a past event:
"In that year, the world opposed the heavens, and I sat in the Lingxiao Palace, hearing Yu Huang say—’They will only be allowed to attack the Celestial Court after ten sunsets.’
"So it was, not until ten sunsets later, that the rebels reached the Celestial Court."
"The so-called rebellion against the Supre Beings is itself the will of the Supre Beings... They are destiny, the will of heaven, the rules themselves..."
The great solar brilliance quivered slightly, seemingly horrified by the terror of the Supre Beings.
After a long ti, it asked:
"In that case, Master, how can you prove yourself Supre?"
The Northern Emperor lowered his eyelids, his fingers tapping the void, and in the sound of ’tok,’ he remained silent.
For a long, long ti.
He suddenly raised his head, gazing into the empty void, staring fixedly, speaking firmly:
"In the very beginning, there were only two Supre Beings in the universe."
"They contended with each other, and to suppress each other, created more Supre Beings to aid themselves."
"Thus, in the ga of the Supre Beings, one after another new Supre Being was born."
"To resist the Supre, one must first beco Supre."
"To beco Supre, one must first yield to the Supre."
"Let them see your value, willingly step into their ga, and only then will you have a tiny chance to prove yourself Supre and beco the one holding the chess pieces."
A deep voice echoed in the Taiji Hall, and in the void, and around the Nine-Ring Scepter and the embroidered kasaya.
"Alright, return these two treasures to Taibai. I’m not so greedy as to covet such insignificant trinkets."
"Yes, Master."
.......
Other Shore Mountain.
The World-Honored One Buddha sat quietly in the grass hut, listening calmly to the words of the Northern Emperor through the karmic links and hidden ans placed on the Nine-Ring Scepter.
Everything was initially isolated, with nothing to hear or see.
But with every ’tok’ sound,
that isolation seed to ripple, briefly breaking, allowing him to hear the words of the other side, to hear the discourse on the Supre Beings, and even to see the Northern Emperor sitting in the Taiji Hall.
"He intended for to hear, for the World-Honored One to hear it."
The World-Honored One on the Other Shore Mountain, and the Celestial Venerate in the Eight Sceneries Palace, uttered the sa whispers.
Zhang Fusheng sat beside the ditation mat, his gaze profound, wondering why the Northern Emperor would suddenly speak these words?
"Does he think that the World-Honored One Buddha is also Taiqing’s chess piece?"
"Is he issuing a reminder, or a warning, believing he can turn the World-Honored One Buddha?"
Murmuring, Zhang Fusheng breathed heavily, his eyes bright and clear.
"To resist the Supre, one must first yield to the Supre..."
Shaking his head, he buried the thought deep in his heart, and as a True Man, Zhang Fusheng continued to listen to Shen Baobao’s prayers.
Every word and sentence entered his heart.
"Douluo Grand Palace opens for a quarter of an hour every day at dawn and dusk."
Zhang Fusheng muttered to himself, organizing the information obtained from Shen Baobao.
"There is a furnace in the palace, burning vigorously, with figures lined on both sides of the furnace, fanning the flas."
"Listening to this, it sounds like the Eight Trigrams Furnace. Who are those fanning the flas? The Gold and Silver Horned Kings?"
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