Sitting before an ancient scripture he could not obtain, Ye Fan could only sigh. The mental cultivation method left behind by the great emperor — had it been inherited and passed down, it could have given rise to an entire Holy Land.

This was no exaggeration. It was simply the truth. The foundation upon which the great Holy Lands had established themselves was each the possession of a single supreme secret canon. That was the power of an unparalleled ancient scripture.

Suddenly, Ye Fan noticed a few lines of characters on a nearby stone wall. Looking carefully, he recognized them as the inscription of Jiang Taixu — even the mighty Divine King of the Eastern Desolation had not been able to glimpse the contents of this scripture.

“Great Emperor Wushi, your merits reached to the very workings of creation, shaking all of antiquity and illuminating all ages to come. I sigh — I cannot look upon your methods even once. The greatest regret of my life…”

According to Divine King Jiang’s account, the stone scripture had been sealed by the great emperor Wushi with his own hands and could not be opened by any means — unless the great emperor himself were to return to life, or unless someone bearing his personal token came before it.

Furthermore, Jiang Taixu had deduced that the scripture harbored the power of the supreme Dao, left here as a seal and anchor. This place was a gateway — venture any further, and one would reach the very source of the Purple Mountain.

Having read all of this, Ye Fan’s heart went cold. A supreme treasure stood right before his eyes, and all he could do was stare at it helplessly — utterly without any means to open it.

“I want to see what’s inside…” he muttered, unwilling to accept it.

Ye Fan circled the stone scripture once around and spotted a few more lines of ancient characters — these appeared far older still.

“Who stands at the pinnacle where the immortal road ends? A single glimpse of Wushi, and the Dao becomes void…” The name inscribed beneath was Gu Tianshu — he had also come here once.

Ye Fan naturally had not forgotten this figure: an ancient person from seventy thousand years ago, even more powerful than Jiang Taixu. Of the thirty-seven people who had entered the Demon Mountain in that age, Gu Tianshu had ranked first in terms of power.

Seventy thousand years ago, Gu Tianshu had shaken heaven and earth — and yet even he had been unable to break the seal left by Great Emperor Wushi. From his words alone, one could see the profound reverence and admiration he held for the great emperor.

When one thought carefully about it, that was only natural. Since time immemorial, the Eastern Desolation had produced only a handful of great emperors — each representing one of the greatest “monuments” of power across all of history.

“Who stands at the pinnacle where the immortal road ends? A single glimpse of Wushi, and the Dao becomes void…” Ye Fan recited the lines to himself, his heart surging. Was that great emperor truly so supremely dominant?

In just over a dozen characters, the inscription captured the full breadth of his unrivaled achievement across all ages. That they had not been born in the same era was a matter of deep regret — never to meet such a figure even once was cause for endless lament.

Ye Fan searched carefully and thoroughly around the stone scripture, but in the end found nothing.

When he finally stopped and sat down on the ground in resignation, he suddenly realized something peculiar about this place — it was shaped like an altar, with the stone scripture displayed atop it.

It was a wide and expansive raised platform, with enormous patterns carved into its surface. At a glance they appeared to be natural fissures and channels, but upon closer inspection, they were deliberate carvings.

Ye Fan rose to his feet again. After determining the center of the altar, he walked toward it — and as he did, the jade pendant on his body grew brighter still.

“Something is strange here — hard to say whether it bodes well or ill…”

When he reached the central point, the sense of strangeness deepened. The patterns here were far more densely concentrated — they appeared to be Dao markings.

The technique behind them was unlike anything seen in the present age, leaning far more toward the natural. The markings were composed of wind, rain, thunder, lightning, birds, beasts, flowers, and insects.

At the very center of the altar, Ye Fan discovered a small concave depression, roughly the size of a human head.

“Hum!”

The ancient jade in his hand trembled faintly, as though it had come to life, radiating brilliant light.

“Could it be that this ancient jade was meant to fit here…” Doubt stirred in his mind. He held the jade pendant up and compared it — and found that one corner matched the depression perfectly.

“If I place the jade piece inside, what will happen?” His heart wavered with uncertainty, and he did not act immediately.

“Could it be that this would unseal something? Could it possibly open the Scripture of Wushi?” The thought sent a wave of excitement through him that he struggled to contain.

Of course, he also considered the worst possibility — it might equally have something to do with the primordial creatures, or even the existences sealed within the supreme divine source.

“Alas — the ancient jade is incomplete. Most likely it cannot truly serve its intended purpose.” Ye Fan held back and did not dare act rashly.

He turned his thoughts to how he might leave this place. Perhaps the only option was to wait several years, until the primordial creatures that had already emerged had all withered away, and only then attempt to go.

For according to the information he had gathered, once a primordial creature broke free from its source, it could not survive long in the outside world — some would crumble to dust within years, others within decades at most.

“I’m no Divine King Jiang. I can endure at most a few years…”

Suddenly, Ye Fan felt a chill crawl across his skin. He sensed that something was watching him.

The feeling filled him with dread. If a primordial creature had tracked him here, he would truly be in grave peril — would even the Scripture of Wushi, sealed with a great emperor’s Dao-source, fail to give such a being pause?

Ye Fan retreated quickly to stand before the stone scripture, scanning his surroundings — and found nothing. He saw not a single thing.

“Could it be an illusion?” He began to doubt himself. After so many days of relentless tension, perhaps his nerves had finally given way to hallucinations.

Whatever the case, he no longer dared to move freely. He sat down before the stone scripture and began to cultivate in silence, murmuring to himself: “Endure a few years, and my freedom will be restored.”

But barely half a day passed before Ye Fan felt that something was wrong. There was definitely something here — he could sense it was not far away, and it seemed completely unafraid of the stone scripture.

“It’s circling nearby…”

After forming that judgment, Ye Fan truly could no longer sit still. He sprang to his feet.

In the distance, faint and indistinct, came the sounds of roaring — those primordial creatures, it seemed, were traversing the ancient mines, trying to bypass the hall formed from the supreme weapon and advance on this location.

At the same time, the hidden creature reached out again with its divine sense to observe him, and Ye Fan felt it with perfect clarity.

“This place is no longer safe…” He resolved to fall back to the Bell Hall.

Before leaving, he cast one final glance at the concave depression at the center of the altar. He walked up to it — then gritted his teeth and pressed the ancient jade inside.

“Whatever a great emperor left behind cannot have been intended to harm future generations.”

In an instant — the very moment the ancient jade sank into place — the entire area was engulfed in blinding radiance. A massive curtain of light erupted upward and enveloped him completely.

The cauldron he had already summoned acted immediately, drawing him inside and sheltering him within.

Ye Fan’s heart pounded with alarm. He had no idea what kind of astonishing transformation might occur now that the jade piece had been set into the depression.

He had no time to speculate further. The light curtain tore through the void with terrifying speed, and everything around him blurred and dissolved into haze.

“It’s crossing through the void — where will it take me?!” The ancient jade was incomplete — to rend the void open in such a state was extremely likely to go awry.

But there was no reversing course. Darkness surrounded him on all sides. Silence swallowed everything. He could see nothing at all. He had already plunged into the void.

A streak of light shot toward him — the ancient jade came flying in after him. Ye Fan quickly drew it into the cauldron and gripped it in his hand.

The jade piece was not whole. It could not possibly carry him to the destination Great Emperor Wushi had originally designed for it. The thought filled him with quiet unease. The one comfort was that sheltered within the cauldron of primal qi, he need not fear being torn to pieces.

“Swish!”

It did not take long. The void was torn open again, and boundless darkness stretched out before him — nothing was visible.

“Splash!”

He plummeted into water. Bone-chilling cold seeped through the cauldron and reached him.

“Where is this?” Ye Fan emerged from the cauldron. Cold currents surged all around, the water rushing turbulently.

“Is this underground?” He threw a punch upward. A rumbling boom echoed back.

He was carried along by the current, surrounded by complete darkness, with nothing but stone walls on either side. Then, up ahead, a massive whirlpool appeared — the underground river plunged straight down into the depths of the earth.

Ye Fan broke free of the current, striking upward with thunderous blows. He also summoned the golden scripture, slashing and cleaving with it repeatedly, forcibly carving a path upward toward the surface.

The depth to which he had sunk underground was difficult to imagine. After boring upward several hundred meters, he still had not reached the surface.

He continued driving upward for more than another thousand meters — and at last felt moving air. He burst out from beneath the earth, yet still found himself in boundless darkness.

“This is…” He found the sight somehow familiar. It was a massive ancient mine — with no end in sight.

“A dragon vein — I’ve made it out!” Ye Fan cried out in shock. He truly could not believe it — he had actually escaped the Purple Mountain.

This was the passage he had chosen on the way in — the ancient mine beneath the dragon vein. He could even see the carved images on the mine walls.

“There’s no mistake — I really have made it out!” He rushed forward, running his hand across the ancient carvings — the very images of the great emperor suppressing the supreme divine source.

He could not conceal his elation. He had thought he might be trapped inside like Jiang Taixu, never to escape — yet here he was, free far sooner than he had dared hope.

When he had first chosen to enter the Purple Mountain, he had known the Emperor’s Jade would likely prove invaluable. But he had not imagined it would matter this much — at the most critical moment, it had carried him across the void.

“What is that?!” Ye Fan’s heart seized. Something in the ancient mine seemed to be watching him.

“Could it be the demonic bats? No — they can’t escape my divine sense…” The feeling unsettled him deeply.

Ye Fan did not linger. He transformed into a bolt of lightning and shot forward as fast as he could fly. He had come through ninety-nine trials — it would be truly unjust to stumble at the very last step.

It was not long before he reached the far end of the great mine. He leapt up and soared several thousand meters upward. Light appeared ahead, and clean, fresh air rushed to greet him.

Shortly after, he finally broke through to the surface.

Ye Fan had been trapped inside the Purple Mountain for just over a month. Standing now on the reddish-brown earth, feeling the warmth of the midday sun, he felt as though he had been reborn into the world. For a long time he could not find his composure.

Only after a great while did he finally leave the dragon vein and walk away into the distance.

This journey through the Purple Mountain had brought him enormous gains — yet also deep regret.

He could only lament for that generation’s Divine King — who had endured four thousand years of suffering, only to finally dissolve into dust.

Jiang Taixu had passed him a supreme secret art, and for that Ye Fan felt profound gratitude. He thought that the old Divine King was, in his own way, a pitiable figure.

“When I have grown strong enough, I will return. Even if I cannot save your life, I will bury your remains and offer you a proper tribute.”

The Nine Secrets represented the absolute pinnacle — nothing in the world could compare to them, their value beyond estimation. They were the nine supreme secret arts of nine distinct domains.

A Divine King had passed down his law — this was a grace of the highest magnitude.

Finally, his thoughts returned to the Scripture of Wushi. That he had been unable to bring it out was his greatest regret of all.

“Who stands at the pinnacle where the immortal road ends? A single glimpse of Wushi, and the Dao becomes void.”

That inscription alone was enough to convey the achievement of one who stood unrivaled across all of antiquity and all ages to come. For Ye Fan, such an ancient scripture held an attraction without equal.

He was in desperate need of higher cultivation methods for later stages of his path. The Scripture of Wushi had never been transmitted to the world — making it perfectly suited to him. It would provoke no conflict, draw no unwanted attention.

That even someone as formidable as Gu Tianshu had left such an inscription behind — the thought made Ye Fan’s heart surge!

He resolved that in the days ahead, he would have to search throughout the Northern Region for fragments of the ancient jade. Perhaps he could eventually reassemble the Emperor’s Jade into a complete whole. Then, if he were to enter the Purple Mountain again someday, he might finally be able to open the Scripture of Wushi.

“The Scripture of Wushi has lain there for over a hundred thousand years. It will not disappear. There will come a day when I behold its secrets.”

As Ye Fan walked several dozen li from the mountain, he kept feeling as though something were following him. Yet every time he turned around, he saw nothing — which left him genuinely puzzled.

“Something is definitely following me. This feeling… it’s different from anything I’ve sensed before.” Suspicion stirred in his heart. Whatever it was did not feel malicious — he sensed no killing intent.

He turned it over in his mind and thought back to the sensation of being watched by something unseen before the Scripture of Wushi. The two felt similar.

A chill ran through him. “Surely not,” he muttered. “Could something from inside the Purple Mountain have come out along with me?”

Yet when he had been crossing through the void, he had noticed nothing of the sort. “Perhaps I’m overthinking it…” he told himself.