Atop Zhuo Peak, the nine-tiered celestial stairway expanded continuously, transforming into nine platforms adorned with jade towers and crystal pavilions, swathed in drifting clouds and mist, hazy and otherworldly.
Li Ruoyu slowly ascended, drawn upward by an invisible force, entering that ethereal realm of palaces and halls.
At the mountain’s summit, the void stretched to an absolute extreme, and a profound, deep silence pervaded — as though an entire world were unfolding in its primordial evolution, as nameless “Dao” and “Principle” intertwined with one another.
All things revealed themselves in their fullness: life teemed and flourished, cycling endlessly in perpetual motion. At first, flowers bloomed in magnificent splendor and leaves glistened with verdant vitality, yet in the end they withered and fell, returning to their roots.
Ye Fan stood motionless atop Zhuo Peak, his eyes shifting from radiant brilliance to desolate emptiness, from luminous life to hollow vacancy — as though he too had passed through a transformation from flourishing abundance to withered decline.
Between heaven and earth, nameless trajectories seemed to materialize, forming intricate and profound laws and order, giving rise to mysterious patterns and traceries.
Zhuo Peak returned to its primal simplicity, embodying the evolution of Dao and Principle. The entire mountain was like a sacred scripture, and only a mind attuned to it could capture the mystical trajectories flowing through it.
Ye Fan was not Li Ruoyu. He had been at Zhuo Peak for barely half a month, and he did not know the mountain’s origins or fundamental nature — achieving resonance with this peak would be no easy task. However, he carried a Bodhi Seed in his breast, obtained from the Great Thunder Sound Temple. Its inherent Dao diagram had evolved from nature itself, allowing his heart to swiftly settle into a state of absolute serenity.
The Bodhi, according to legend, was the sacred tree of enlightenment — also called the Tree of Wisdom. It could help one unlock their divine nature and perceive the Dao between heaven and earth, and was utterly extraordinary.
With the aid of this mysterious Bodhi Seed, Ye Fan merged into the realm where the Dao follows nature, his state of mind flourishing and fading alongside the grasses and trees.
“Great perfection appears incomplete; great abundance appears hollow; great skill appears clumsy…”
A nameless voice resonated all around. In the palace halls, Li Ruoyu stood motionless as a stone, still as bedrock, listening to the wondrous sounds between heaven and earth.
Zhuo Peak, its lineage severed for five hundred years, saw its profound arts reappear once more. The gateway of the Dao swung open, and profound truths poured forth in abundance — there were no divine springs surging from the earth, no auspicious radiances descending from the heavens. There was only a simple, unadorned transmission: a flowing stream of Dao resonance.
Ye Fan’s heart was clear and luminous, unified with Zhuo Peak. Everything that Li Ruoyu was comprehending, he likewise heard clearly. The Bodhi Seed grew slightly warm, and he remained serene and natural.
At first, this was not what one would call an immortal art transmission — it was the foundational cultivation method of Zhuo Peak.
The “First of the Nine Secrets” was not a profound cultivation technique. It was a secret art that could be fused within a cultivation method, manifesting all manner of mysterious and immeasurable power.
The foundational cultivation method of Zhuo Peak was the very root of this lineage. Only by cultivating through this method and building genuine power within oneself could one bring forth the full expression of the secret art.
The First of the Nine Secrets — matchless and peerless in all the world. When activated, it could trigger spontaneously to multiply one’s combat power several times over, even tenfold. It was a rare and legendary secret technique that every sacred ground and ancient wilderness family coveted with burning desire.
Without cultivation methods, without techniques — only nine secret arts. If all nine were combined, even a few of the ancient scriptures of the Eastern Wastelands could be exchanged for them. One could only imagine how immense their value truly was.
Zhuo Peak’s foundational cultivation method was indeed exceptional and unique, worthy of being called one of the greatest transmissions of the Profound Mystery Sect. Five hundred years ago, its Peak Master could contend evenly with the Grand Elder of the Yao Guang Sacred Ground and perish together with him — this spoke volumes in itself.
While it could not compare with the Scripture of the Dao, it was still profoundly wondrous. Ye Fan verified his own understanding against it and gained considerable inspiration. Of course, what he was most focused on was still the “First of the Nine Secrets.” This was what he desperately needed. For him, its appeal even surpassed the Ji Family’s Void Ancient Scripture. If it were to trigger spontaneously in battle and multiply his combat power several times over, it would absolutely be the most terrifying killing blow imaginable.
Consider this: if one could successfully draw forth the Primal Qi of the Mysterious Yellow into both fists, and then trigger such a secret art — the result would be utterly catastrophic. No matter how many divine treasures the opponent possessed, no matter how unparalleled their divine abilities — a single fist would punch straight through everything.
Of course, the combat power triggered several times over was not limited merely to the physical body. It could manifest through any means — such as unleashing divine abilities, controlling artifacts, or even the speed of flight…
In Ye Fan’s eyes, the Nine Secrets were without question the supreme secret arts, and this one secret of Zhuo Peak — he was determined to obtain it.
Suddenly, a nameless Dao resonance began to flow — appearing extraordinarily mysterious, quite different in many ways from Zhuo Peak’s ancient and unadorned foundational cultivation method.
No sound came. No fluctuations stirred. There was only a peculiar divine aura materializing at the summit of Zhuo Peak.
Ye Fan felt the Bodhi Seed in his breast grow noticeably warmer and tremble lightly several times. He guessed this was almost certainly the First of the Nine Secrets manifesting before him. No longer paying any attention to Zhuo Peak’s foundational cultivation method, he began reaching out to capture that sliver of mysterious Dao resonance.
One had to acknowledge it — the ancient sages and great masters of Zhuo Peak were incomparably remarkable. Without leaving a single word or utterance, they had used the entire main peak as a scripture to transmit the First of the Nine Secrets, ensuring it would never be extinguished and would be passed down to later generations. Their methods were truly extraordinary beyond compare.
The entire Zhuo Peak was rich with ancient atmosphere, as though it had crossed through time and space to return to ten thousand years past — like a wild and untamed mountain, as if it had never been developed, even more ordinary-looking than it was in the present. Yet there was a natural energy flowing through it.
In the distance, many powerful cultivators atop the surrounding main peaks gazed toward Zhuo Peak, observing its unusual changes from afar. More than a few of them showed expressions of astonishment.
“There are no auspicious clouds filling the sky, no ten thousand rays of divine radiance, no celestial music echoing in waves. It looks so natural — it should not yet be the time for the transmission to open, and yet it gives people a feeling of inexhaustible depth and profundity…”
“Indeed. There was once a great sage master of former times who also received Zhuo Peak’s foundational cultivation method and secret arts outside the normally appointed time for the transmission to open. In the end, his magical power surged like a boundless tide, rivaling the great masters of the ancient era, and he reached the absolute pinnacle of strength.”
“Could it be that Li Ruoyu is also such a person — that he will become the second great master in Zhuo Peak’s history? Perhaps this is truly possible. Legend has it that the great sage of those days had ordinary aptitude, plain and unremarkable in every way. Li Ruoyu genuinely shares similar traits with him.”
All around them, powerful cultivators from many main peaks were murmuring to themselves, their gazes fixed upon Zhuo Peak.
“A quiet and unassuming opening of the transmission, without thunderous spectacle — this suits Zhuo Peak far better than a transmission of tremendous fanfare. It is likely that only in this way can one receive the complete and perfect profound truth. Zhuo Peak lives up to its name: this naturalness and ordinariness is most fitting for it, and it is the very root of why the peak excels despite its apparent clumsiness.”
Many powerful cultivators atop the surrounding peaks came to realize: Zhuo Peak was about to truly rise — and there was a strong possibility that a great master would emerge from it.
Li Ruoyu’s aptitude was ordinary. That he had been able to become a disciple of the Profound Mystery Sect in those years had been due to fortune alone. No one had placed any hope in him. Everyone assumed he was merely a seed of grass kept to ensure Zhuo Peak’s continuity — that it would never be completely extinguished. No one would have believed he had a destined immortal affinity, or that he could achieve anything extraordinary.
Yet the scene unfolding before them now seemed to overturn everything from the past. If Li Ruoyu truly walked the path of that ancient great sage and became the equal of a great master from the ancient era, then it was not impossible that even the Ji Family and the Yao Guang Sacred Ground — forces that dominated this entire region — could be suppressed by him.
Not only were many elders stirred and drawn out, but even the Peak Masters of each main peak emerged from closed-door cultivation, gazing fixedly at Zhuo Peak, their eyes flickering with all manner of nameless light.
And not long after, the Sect Master of the Profound Mystery Sect arrived as well, along with the Grand Elders and many revered masters who had been secluded deep within the mountain range — all of them floating atop the clouds.
“Li Ruoyu is not truly dull-witted. Diligence can make up for what talent lacks. He has walked the path of the ancient great sages, and perhaps he truly is the future guardian of our Profound Mystery lineage.”
“If he truly becomes the equal of an ancient great master, then even ascending to the standing of a sacred ground or an ancient wilderness family is no longer merely an empty dream for our Profound Mystery Sect.”
The Sect Master and Grand Elders of the Profound Mystery Sect all wore solemn expressions.
“Zhuo Peak has stood desolate and barren for five hundred years, its disciples withered to almost nothing. Now that the transmission has opened, select outstanding disciples from each of the main peaks and send them to Zhuo Peak.” This was the order the Profound Mystery Sect Master issued.
Even before the sect’s important figures had made their decision, disciples from every main peak had already begun to discuss it among themselves. Many who understood Zhuo Peak’s history made up their minds then and there to go and join it.
The once-ruined main peak, now reawakening its transmission, entered everyone’s field of vision and began to radiate with a splendid new brilliance.
Amid the stirrings of every main peak, while everyone was privately harboring their own thoughts, Ye Fan atop Zhuo Peak captured that subtle and elusive strand of divine resonance.
Between heaven and earth, it was as though countless “threads” were interweaving with one another, as though undefined laws had transformed into order, giving rise to nameless power — constructing all manner of traceries within the void.
Before his eyes, the summit of Zhuo Peak shifted and changed without cease.
All things withered. Grasses and trees fell. They transformed into soil, returning to their roots — from motion to stillness, reverting to their original nature — as though an eternal law were undergoing its endless evolution.
From initial birth to returning to the root, passing through vigorous life at its fullest, then through supreme flourishing, then through the fading of all splendor, then through the utmost stillness — returning to the source. Between heaven and earth, “Dao traceries” were born and extinguished without end.
Ye Fan’s eyes shifted from brilliant radiance to ashen dimness, from vitality to empty desolation — then reversed, changing together with these nameless traceries, capturing their trajectories and evolving alongside them.
He marveled inwardly. The ancient sages of Zhuo Peak were truly remarkable — to have concealed the secret art within the natural changes of the world and branded it upon the entire Zhuo Peak. It was genuinely wondrous beyond compare.
Like pulling silk from a cocoon strand by strand, he discerned and captured, gathering each drop and thread into the sea of his heart — this was the transmission of the “First of the Nine Secrets” that he had been seeking.
Ye Fan stood motionless, merged with heaven and earth, unified with Zhuo Peak, being cleansed and baptized by nature. It was as though he had become a stone upon Zhuo Peak, a blade of grass, a winding vine — branding each drop, each endless strand of divine resonance, wholly upon his heart.
In the end, upon the silent Zhuo Peak, all scenery before his eyes vanished. Only a single seed and a patch of earth remained. He became like a gentle breeze drifting past.
The seed of nature broke through the soil from beneath the earth, unfurling the faintest trace of green life. His heart and mind were serene — still as an ancient well without a single ripple — until at last he transformed into a few drops of water, sprinkling down, soaking into the earth.
His spirit seemed to have completely unified with that seed, becoming that vibrant shoot of green life. Atop Zhuo Peak, all was tranquil and hushed. A single green sprout radiated boundless vitality, becoming the sole presence between heaven and earth.
“Dong!”
Ye Fan’s heart shuddered. His eyes cleared to brilliant lucidity. The First of the Nine Secrets had transformed into a seed, branded into the field of his heart, breaking through the soil to emerge — the supreme secret art nurtured within nature had been completely and fully obtained by him.
He looked again at Zhuo Peak. The mountain was still the same mountain, the water still the same water, the grasses and trees still the same grasses and trees. Nothing had changed in any particular way — it was exactly as it had been before.
He was like a drifting cloud; he was like a flowing breeze. Body and spirit were luminous and empty, as the supreme secret art surfaced in the field of his heart, flowing through like a gentle, murmuring stream.
Ye Fan had not obtained Zhuo Peak’s foundational cultivation method — but having gained the First of the Nine Secrets was more than sufficient.
Half a day later, Li Ruoyu awakened and rose to his full height. His entire being was extraordinarily ethereal — appearing incomparably distant and beyond reach, as though he stood upon the clouds, or as though a stretch of starry sky lay between him and the world, and the dust of ages had settled upon him.
Soon, however, a change came over him. The clouds and mist dissipated. He became ordinary — like a plain and unremarkable elderly man from some rural village, without a single remarkable feature.
By this time, the foot of Zhuo Peak was already crowded with people. Yet not a single one had dared to intrude, and not one had flown up into the high sky above. They all waited quietly before the mountain gate — the great majority of them had come seeking to be taken on as disciples and to join the Zhuo Peak lineage.
At this moment, not a single person still dared to look down upon Zhuo Peak, and not a single person still dared to treat it as a wild, desolate mountain and descend upon it at will.
The great majority were outstanding disciples from every main peak. There were even quite a few who were children of the various Peak Masters themselves.
Li Ruoyu stood quietly upon the mountain, paying no attention to the crowd below. He turned his gaze toward Ye Fan and said, “You have the Ancient Holy Physique.”