There were seven futons in the first row, and the first one was an old man, his eyes were cloudy, and he didn't seem to wake up.

The second person was a dignified middle-aged man, graceful and luxurious, dressed in gorgeous clothes, and his eyes were shining.

The third person was a young man, with a firm and resolute face, sitting firmly on the futon, watching the light of bullfighting, and proud of his bones.

The fourth person is a charming woman, she was born with a beautiful national color, extremely holy, so that people can't afford to have the slightest blasphemy thoughts, and looks very similar to a Taoist behind her, and her breath is also secretly compatible.

The fifth was a yellow-skinned man dressed in a bright yellow robe, and his expression was sad, as if he was facing great calamity.

The sixth was a man holding a Bodhi branch in his hand, he was dressed as a Taoist, and he was very close to the fifth person, and he was talking softly at this time.

The seventh was a Taoist in a bright red robe, his face was kind, his tone was gentle, and there was joy in his eyes, and he was talking to an old man behind him with low eyebrows and pleasing eyes.

In addition to a few people in the first row, there were several other monks in the main hall who also exuded a huge momentum, which made people dare not ignore it.

The Demon Emperor's Three-legged Golden Crow Emperor Jun and the Eastern Emperor Taiyi are like two rounds of giant suns, and a pair of golden eyes seem to have stars flowing between the opening and closing, domineering side leakage.

Kunpeng, whose face was gloomy, occasionally flashed with a fine light, but it quickly converged, and he seemed to be calculating something all the time.

There was another woman in palace clothes, with a compassionate face, sitting in a corner of the main hall, without quarrel with the world, not communicating with others, just waiting for the appearance of Hongjun Daoist.

Zhang Ling sighed slightly in his heart, these are the top gods who stirred up the flood and desolation, in his previous life, he had heard all the legends of these great gods, and at this time, he listened to the sermon with them in Zixiao Palace, and he had three points of emotion in his heart.

"One day, I may not be able to become a legend and stand side by side with these great gods. Inside the stubborn stone, Zhang Ling's soul shouted, and his heart was surging.

When the three of Zhang Ling entered the Zixiao Palace, they didn't cause much of a sensation, only a few monks close to the door opened their eyes and looked at them a few times, but in an instant, they either turned to other places or closed their eyes to recuperate, waiting for the appearance of the saint.

Among the three, the cultivation of the Styx Dao people is a little more profound, comparable to the first few monks, although Kong Xuan is of noble birth and talented, but after all, the cultivation time is too short, and he is not a master, let alone Zhang Ling, who has not yet transformed into a shape, and the gray stubborn body makes people even more interested in exploring.

In the main hall, there are three thousand red dust guests in different forms, and there is no lack of people who are wearing horns and have hideous faces, which also confirms the statement that Hongjun Sage has no class.

"Hongyun Ancestor sat on the seventh futon in the first row, and it seemed that the incident that appeared in the Zixiao Palace to give up his seat had passed. Zhang Ling's heart moved, and he sneered, "I don't have enough chances, even if I sit on this futon and get the foundation of the Heavenly Dao, Hongmeng Purple Qi, what is it, it's not that I was attacked by someone, and I ended up dead." ”

"Let me go. Zhang Ling's tone was gentle, and he said to Kong.

Kong Xuan nodded slightly, and an innate five elements aura turned into a ribbon, steadily lifted Zhang Ling, and landed on a futon, and then he also sat on the futon next to Zhang Ling.

Styx stared at the seven futons at the front, and seemed to understand something, with his cultivation, he could naturally realize that this futon must be extraordinary, and it can even be said to have great benefits, although I don't know what it is, but there are always benefits to sitting on it.

With a faint sigh, the Styx Dao people leaned down and sat beside Zhang Ling, after all, they came too late, even though they knew that those few futons contained heavenly opportunities, but in the saint dojo, they didn't dare to make a scramble.

As for the other seats, it doesn't make any difference, and when the saint preached, there was no inaudible statement in the back row.

Soon after they sat down, a number of monks arrived, and without saying a word, they quietly found a place to sit down and waited for the saint to come.

I don't know how long it has been, Zhang Ling suddenly heard an ancient vicissitudes of life, "The third day has arrived, the sermon has begun, and the child has closed the door." ”

This voice appeared in the ears of everyone in the main hall at the same time, as well as in the ears of Haotian and Yaochi.

Haotian and Yaochi hurriedly responded, "Yes!

The sound of squeaking sounded, the door of Zixiao Palace was closed, and Zixiao Palace also disappeared into the Hongmeng world, without a trace, the original place was still a Hongmeng, it seemed that Zixiao Palace did not appear in that place.

Even if the monk who arrived late tried to find it, he couldn't find the slightest trace of Zixiao Palace.

At the front of the main hall, there is a rock, chaotic, natural, it is the famous treasure rock in later generations, after Hongjun merges the road, many innate spirit treasures collected are placed on the treasure rock, and they are distributed to three thousand red dust guests.

At this time, this treasure rock is still the platform for the sage of Hongjun to preach.

The space seemed to have a mysterious trajectory crossing, and the Hongjun Saint had already appeared on the Fenbao Rock, even the Taishang Laojun, who had the highest cultivation in the main hall, did not see how the Hongjun Saint appeared.

The two hollows at the top of Zhang Ling's seven orifices looked at the Fenbao Rock, and only saw the rumored Dao Ancestor, the Hongjun Sage at this time, the teacher of the future Sage, the spokesperson of the Heavenly Dao, the appearance of strange and ancient, high crown and broad belt, mysterious and mysterious, unpredictable.

Hongjun landed on the platform, and his gaze slowly swept over the main hall.

When he landed on the three Daoists at the front of the first row, his face was gentle, as if he had the intention of exhortation, and when he fell on the fourth, fifth and sixth people, his expression remained unchanged, like an ancient well and a deep pool, gloomy and gloomy, and when he fell on the seventh person Hongyun Ancestor, he seemed to shake his head slightly and sighed.

As for the others outside the first row, although there were nearly 3,000 people, Hongjun didn't say anything, and it seemed that in his eyes there was no difference from the stone pillars and eaves in the main hall.

For some reason, Zhang Ling felt that when Hongjun's gaze fell on him, he paused for a little more than other places, and that gaze was indescribable, mysterious and mysterious.

There are complicated feelings, like exhortation, encouragement, and nostalgia, and even Zhang Ling felt a wisp of murderous intent, which made him creepy.

"Could it be that Hongjun knows that the Chaos Bead is in my body?" Zhang Ling's soul seemed to be frozen by Dao Ancestor's sudden burst of killing intent, and he could only speculate that it was because the Chaos Bead caused Hongjun's killing intent.

As the spokesperson of the Heavenly Dao in the future, Hongjun originally wanted to stabilize the operation of the Heavenly Dao, and only the Chaos Bead, which had escaped, would make Hongjun, who had not changed for thousands of years, rise in his heart.

But this gaze came and went quickly, but in an instant, it had disappeared, and even Kong Xuan and Styx next to him did not notice it.

The ubiquitous chaotic aura on the surface of the stubborn stone seemed to stop beating and converge for a while, until Hongjun withdrew his gaze, and then began to flow slowly.

"I will preach three times, every three thousand years, for three hundred years each time, and I will listen carefully so that I can do what I do. The ethereal voice spread through the vast hall and fell on the ears of all the monks.