The Perilous Lecture and a Timely Intervention

Almost at the very instant the Dao sound resonated, a myriad of luminous auras, each distinct in form, simultaneously flared around the Purple Mansion cultivators assembled below the platform.

Some manifested as archaic bronze bells, enveloping their entire beings; others resembled lotus buds, subtly swaying and shifting; still others transformed into sharp, sword-like forms, suspended above their crowns.

These were the outward manifestations of their True Natures, the foundational essence forged from their lifelong cultivation, and the very bulwark that allowed them to sit peacefully, listening to the Dao’s profound rhythm.

Without the protection of this True Nature, the mere resonance of that Dao sound would have instantly inflicted severe damage upon the souls of all present Purple Mansion cultivators.

Yet, even with their True Natures shielding them, the cultivators of the Purple Mansion realm found themselves far from comfortable.

With each reverberation of the Dao sound, the luminous auras of their True Natures fluctuated violently, much like flickering candlelight battling a fierce gale.

Many cultivators instantly blanched, their foreheads bulging with prominent veins, clearly enduring immense pressure.

The Dao lectures delivered by Golden Core Dao Lords were a far cry from the gentle sermons of the ancient Dao Masters and Buddhist Patriarchs.

Ancient records recount that when lectures were given in the Purple Heavens and on Spirit Mountain:

Golden lotuses bloomed from the earth, their luminous platforms supporting all who listened, be they human, demon, ghost, or immortal, each finding their rightful place. Celestial flowers rained down, scattering in vibrant hues; merely touching one’s garment brought enlightenment, and a brush against the crown granted insight, bestowing wisdom upon all sentient beings.

Auspicious mists blanketed the ground, and fragrant breezes swept away all dust, repelling evil and dispelling myriad worries. Even an infant could sit peacefully at the furthest seat, perceiving sound with their ears and color with their eyes, their entire being tranquil, feeling only the nourishing essence of the Dao, as if bathed in a spring breeze, gradually gaining understanding.

Today’s Golden Core lectures, however, were akin to shattering the profound mysteries of heaven and earth into countless fragments, forcefully imbuing them into the True Natures of the listeners.

In terms of decisive action, guarding the Dao, and eradicating evil, the Golden Core cultivators of the present age might even surpass the ancient immortals by a fraction. Yet, when it came to benefiting all beings and widely opening the gates of convenience, the current methods had indeed lost the gentle, all-encompassing benevolence characteristic of ancient practices.

Nevertheless, even these sharp fragments, imbued with supreme mysteries, were enough to captivate the Purple Mansion cultivators, driving them into a state of entrancement. Despite enduring the excruciating pain of their True Natures feeling as though they were being torn apart inch by inch, not a single one was willing to give up.

Some were overcome with ecstatic joy, their cultivation auras stirring restlessly, having glimpsed a sliver of profound mystery. Others, unable to comprehend, were consumed by anxiety and rage, blood trickling from the corners of their mouths. The majority, however, desperately guarded their minds, striving to absorb every drop of insight from the vast ocean of information, unwilling to miss even the slightest detail.

Across the entire cloud platform, the grand celestial sounds of the Great Dao reverberated, and golden patterns of law intertwined. Below, the listeners navigated this tumultuous ocean of Dao Rhythm, their Purple Mansion True Natures serving as fragile vessels, constantly facing the peril of capsizing.

Yet, within this very danger lay infinite opportunities for breakthrough.

Mo Tingbei stood silently to the side, his gaze calmly sweeping across the entire assembly.

He could clearly discern the operational state of each Purple Mansion cultivator’s True Nature, their strengths and weaknesses, their solidity and fragility, all laid bare before his eyes.

The Immortal Alliance Envoy’s True Nature aura was the dimmest and thinnest, its fluctuations the most violent, appearing as though it might shatter at any moment. His face had turned ashen, and he was clearly enduring solely through sheer willpower, evidently gaining the least while suffering the most.

Just as this individual’s True Nature aura flickered erratically, on the verge of dissipation, Mo Tingbei’s brow furrowed. Under the cover of his wide sleeve, his hand, hanging by his side, subtly formed a spell seal.

A wisp of sword intent, incredibly subtle yet incomparably pure, was transmitted across the space.

Upon first hearing the Dao sound, the Immortal Alliance Envoy felt the world spin around him. The surrounding immortal palace cloud platform and his fellow cultivators vanished entirely, replaced by a primordial, unformed void.

Immediately, his vision exploded with light, as if phantoms of immortals and buddhas stepped forth from the river of time, their countenances solemn and majestic, chanting true words. The Great Dao’s resonance, like a colossal bell, vibrated so intensely that his primordial spirit threatened to tear apart.

He instantly knew something was amiss; his mind had faltered, and he had fallen into a Heart Demon Illusion.

Even for someone like him, whose Purple Mansion realm was achieved largely through external aid, this fundamental cultivation common sense was not unknown.

However, knowing was one thing; breaking free was entirely another.

The immortals and buddhas within the illusion grew increasingly real, their oppressive aura vast and boundless. The profound principles they expounded pointed directly to the Dao’s Original Source, enticing him to delve deeper.

He listened, utterly captivated, even as his True Nature continuously sent out painful warnings. His soul, however, experienced supreme bliss, nearly succumbing to its allure.

Just as he was about to completely abandon resistance, in the final moment before his mind was swallowed by the illusion, a surge of sword intent, imbued with imperial grandeur yet exceptionally domineering, abruptly pierced into his rapidly clouding Sea of Consciousness!

In an instant, the heavens spun and the earth reeled; the immortals and buddhas bowed their heads in submission.

The Immortal Alliance Envoy jolted violently, and the cloud platform, the Dao sound, and the struggling cultivators around him reappeared before his eyes.

He turned back in shock, his gaze meeting Mo Tingbei’s calm, unruffled eyes.

The other man merely offered a fleeting glance before averting his gaze, but the envoy’s back was already drenched in cold sweat.

He bowed deeply in Mo Tingbei’s direction.

Had Mo Tingbei not intervened, he feared he would have by now become another cautionary tale among the countless warnings issued by elders.

Mo Tingbei’s gaze swept over the man, and he silently assessed:

‘His temperament is decent; he’s not entirely incorrigible.’

‘But… why such haste? To break into the Purple Mansion realm before his True Nature was fully refined?’

‘He’s from the Immortal Alliance, after all. Surely he isn’t merely rushing for quick success, completely without guidance, is he?’

Unbeknownst to Mo Tingbei, his conjecture was remarkably close to the truth.

Having been obsessed with revitalizing his sect for many years, he almost subconsciously evaluated the man’s innate talent and temperament. In the parlance of his previous life, this was likely a recurrence of an occupational hazard.

He gave it no further thought, merely releasing a subtle wisp of sword intent, pointing it towards the side hall, indicating that the envoy could go there to recuperate.

The envoy cast a grateful look towards Mo Tingbei, yet he did not follow the direction of the sword intent.

Instead, he gently closed his eyes, no longer fixated on grasping the fragmented Dao sounds. He was, in fact, using the act of resisting the pervasive, beguiling profound sounds to temper his unsolidified True Nature.

A flicker of surprise crossed Mo Tingbei’s eyes, and a fondness for talent spontaneously arose within him. Unconsciously, he focused his gaze, observing intently. The layers of enigma shrouding this individual held no sway over him.

However, in the very next moment, he abruptly withdrew his gaze.

‘Do not look at what is improper…’

From the highest point of the cloud platform, Jiang Jinyue observed everything. Seeing her Senior Brother’s intention to protect the envoy, she likewise withdrew her ‘attentions’ directed at him.

Only then did Mo Tingbei realize that the Immortal Alliance Envoy’s predicament seemed to have been orchestrated by his Junior Sister.

Indeed, even though he now had one foot almost across the threshold into a realm beyond ordinary limits, before a truly supreme Dao Lord, he was still like a firefly next to a brilliant moon.

Mo Tingbei reluctantly transmitted a message, ‘Yue’er, this person does not appear to be a disciple of Yujizi. Why torment him so?’

Jiang Jinyue did not reply, only offering a vague, slightly petulant hum in return.

Mo Tingbei could only give up.

‘This girl, ever since forming her Golden Core, seems increasingly unwilling to restrain her nature.’

The Dao sound gradually faded.

The golden patterns of the Great Dao flowing around Jiang Jinyue slowly receded, and the icy-blue Dao Rhythm returned to the depths of her eyes.

The suffocating pressure on the cloud platform gradually receded, leaving behind a profound silence and the frantic gasps of the Purple Mansion cultivators, who looked as if they had just survived a catastrophe, their expressions a mix of unspeakable complexity.

Many immediately closed their eyes and sat cross-legged, striving to digest the perilous gains they had just acquired.

Others slumped to the ground as if utterly drained, still trembling with lingering fear.

At this moment, Mo Tingbei slowly stepped forward, his voice calmly resonating: “The lecture has concluded. Fellow Daoists may rest and recuperate here for a while, or be led to the guest quarters by attendant disciples.”

His gaze fell upon the Immortal Alliance Envoy, whose face was pale yet seemed tinged with joy, and his tone remained even:

“Envoy, it appears your mind and spirit have suffered considerable depletion. Might I suggest you accompany me to the side hall for a cup of calming tea, to recover somewhat before departing, lest you harm your foundational roots.”

The envoy’s body imperceptibly stiffened for a moment, then he respectfully clasped his fists. His voice, slightly hoarse, seemed deliberately lowered: “This junior thanks the elder for his kindness. How could Zhao Mou dare to disobey?”