Beneath the main peak of Qingxia, green waters wound and swirled, teeming with life. Vast stretches of maple orchid trees swayed, their branches heavy with pure white blossoms, their sweet fragrance drifting on the air.

A gentle breeze swept through the maple orchid grove, and petals cascaded down in a soft shower, dancing through the air like crystalline snowflakes, their fragrance growing richer still.

A stream babbled and wound its way between the maple orchid trees, carrying fragrant petals along with it toward the distant horizon.

Birdsong mingled with floral perfume, painting a scene of breathtaking beauty. Near the main peak of Qingxia, nature reigned in elegant splendor — yet the three elders and twenty-three disciples within the grove wore expressions shadowed with unrelenting worry.

Ye Fan stood quietly within the maple orchid grove. Crystalline petals drifted and danced, surrounding him on all sides, their rich fragrance clearing the mind. Standing in this place, he felt himself drawing ever closer to the serene, unbounded realm of the Dao.

After a long while, he finally turned around and said, “If what you’ve told me is true, then there is indeed some trouble to be dealt with.”

The Xuanyue Grotto also harbored certain roving bandits in its employ, though it operated with greater secrecy. In terms of scale and strength, it was comparable to Qingxia Sect — but the one thing that gave Ye Fan pause was that they still had a Supreme Patriarch living in the world.

Ten years ago, when the old sect master of Xuanyue Grotto had retreated into seclusion, his divine palace had already harbored three divine manifestations, earning the grotto considerable renown throughout this region. For a sect of Qingxia’s scale, that was an enormously intimidating presence.

Ye Fan possessed a unique constitution and staggering combat power — among cultivators of his own level, he stood at the absolute pinnacle. But against an ancient monster of that caliber, he was still somewhat green.

Between different cultivation realms, the gap in power was immense. Like ascending a celestial stairway, one step up made you an “Immortal,” one step down left you “Mortal” — those of higher realms exercised absolute dominance over those below.

Ye Fan’s talent was extraordinary. He could contend with a dozen cultivators of the same level simultaneously, which was already remarkable beyond measure. Were he to reach the realm of a Sacred Ground heir, it would mean he could single-handedly battle several Sacred Sons.

Word of such a thing would surely shake an entire region!

Even in a contest of “Mortal” against “Immortal,” he had a chance at victory. Given his current terrifying offensive power, he harbored no fear of someone whose divine palace housed two divine manifestations.

Yes — even as one of lower realm facing an “Immortal” on the celestial stairway, there was a chance of victory!

But that Supreme Patriarch had already housed three divine manifestations ten years ago. To attack across two full realm boundaries carried risks far too grave — the odds of victory were nearly nonexistent.

No matter how heaven-defying one’s talent, if the gap in cultivation was sufficiently vast, it was like a chasm stretched across the sky — there simply was no “ascending against the current to slay an Immortal.”

Most critically, ten years had passed. If that old patriarch had made even the slightest progress, it would be hardly surprising. When facing a seasoned figure of that standing, the wisest choice was to retreat and avoid confrontation. Seeking to eliminate him would be fraught with difficulties beyond measure.

The people of Qingxia were all gripped with anxiety. If Xuanyue Grotto was truly set on destroying them, perhaps even this young demon king wouldn’t be enough to stop it.

The Lihuo Sect, Luoxia Sect, Xuanyue Grotto, and Seven Star Pavilion — all four factions were eyeing Qingxia with hungry, predatory gazes. Qingxia’s situation was genuinely precarious.

“No matter,” said Ye Fan. “You needn’t worry. I’ll pay Xuanyue a visit myself and make a decision when I return.” He wanted to gauge their true strength. If the opportunity arose, he intended to strike down that old patriarch directly with a decisive technique.

Xuanyue Grotto lay nine hundred li from Qingxia Sect, situated likewise within a verdant oasis. The area was riddled with ancient caves and secluded ravines. Compared to Qingxia’s quiet elegance, this place carried a peculiar aura of mystery and depth.

Ye Fan landed on the ground several dozen li out, his body crackling with a series of loud pops as his form underwent a dramatic transformation. He became portly and bloated — a stark contrast to his original refined appearance.

Using the Heavens-Altering, Earth-Changing technique recorded within the Source Heaven Book, he thoroughly altered his appearance, then pulled out a Daoist robe and shrugged it into, his complexion ruddy and glowing.

“Wuliang Tianzun — I, the humble Daoist Duan De, have arrived,” Ye Fan declared, posturing grandly. He felt he cut quite a convincing figure.

Meanwhile, far away in some nameless ruin at the edge of the world, the scoundrel Daoist Duan De rose from where he had been sitting and let out a sneeze, muttering to himself, “Which turtle’s egg is cursing me?”

Ye Fan sauntered leisurely toward Xuanyue Grotto. The area was crisscrossed with gullies; streams ran constantly; ancient trees blotted out the sun; celestial vines served as bridges, strung between the faces of sheer cliffs and forming the only pathways through.

“Halt, Fat Daoist — who are you, and what is your business here?” A young disciple at the mountain gate called out.

“Wuliang Tianzun. I have long heard of the great name of Xuanyue Grotto. This humble Daoist has come hoping to engage your sect master in a discourse on the Dao.” Ye Fan flicked his whisk and intoned his Daoist title with dignified ceremony. He looked every bit the part of an enlightened elder.

The disciple guarding the gate was genuinely taken aback. Someone who opened with a request to debate the Dao with the sect master was clearly no ordinary person. Not daring to offend, he hurried inside to report.

Ye Fan had cultivated the Heavens-Altering, Earth-Changing technique to a considerable degree. His remaining concern, if he had one, was whether his bearing and spiritual aura were convincing enough — he always felt they weren’t quite perfect. It was precisely this that had kept him from rushing off to Yaochi.

Before long, an elder of Xuanyue Grotto came out to greet him. “Which fellow Daoist has come to visit our Xuanyue?”

“This humble Daoist, Duan De, Daoist title Wuliang — a wandering cultivator, unaffiliated, adrift like rootless duckweed.”

“Wuliang? What bold aspirations!” the Xuanyue elder thought privately, then reflected further: What a wretched Daoist title — the more I hear it, the more it sounds like ‘Immoral’ (无良).

“And what guidance does this fellow Daoist have to offer?” the elder asked again.

“I have long heard that Xuanyue’s secret techniques are wondrous and profound, and I wished to discuss them with the esteemed masters here.” At this, Ye Fan intoned another Daoist blessing.

“Please, fellow Daoist, come inside.” The Xuanyue elder was genuinely taken in. He invited Ye Fan through the mountain gate with considerable courtesy, explaining, “Our sect master has pressing matters and cannot step away — I shall be the one to play host to the Daoist Master.”

The elder led Ye Fan into the depths of Xuanyue. Cliff faces rose one after another, draped in trailing vines, and ancient caves dotted the landscape, giving the impression of a world unto itself hidden behind this one.

Ye Fan was somewhat surprised. He felt that this place was far from ordinary — he couldn’t quite articulate what it was, but it didn’t feel like mundane territory.

Amid a stretch of rocky hills and clear springs, ancient trees soared to the sky. Ye Fan was invited into a pavilion, where he sat across from the elder while a young attendant served fragrant tea.

After a short while of conversation, Ye Fan realized he could not even get an audience with the sect master, let alone that ancient patriarch — there was simply no way to strike unannounced and eliminate him.

“This humble Daoist’s heart burns with sincerity in pursuit of the great Dao. Perceiving that this mountain is extraordinary, with spiritual grace hidden within, I came to observe it. Is your sect master truly unable to spare even a moment?”

“Oh? And what has the Daoist Master perceived?” The elder smiled and asked.

“Surveying this place, I perceive — dimly — that dragon energy coils and stirs, ancient caves exhale in endless depth — it is as though a sage of great wisdom once dwelt here.” Ye Fan was thoroughly fabricating.

What he did not expect was that the elder suddenly leapt to his feet. “You — the Daoist Master is truly no ordinary person!”

You think I was actually complimenting you? Ye Fan scoffed internally. But when he concentrated his focus and extended his powerful divine sense outward, he fell into a daze.

His words had been true. He hadn’t been wrong after all. His divine consciousness took form, sweeping through the ancient caves, crossing the sheer cliffs, brushing past celestial vines and ancient trees — and he truly saw something extraordinary.

This area was rich with cliff carvings and ancient inscriptions. Most astonishing of all was that there truly was a faint mist swirling — invisible to ordinary eyes, perceptible only to someone with exceptional divine sense. It took the form of a dragon.

“A sage of great wisdom truly lived here?” Ye Fan asked in genuine shock.

“No name, no surname — only one ancient cave and a few carved characters. Unfortunately, no great Dao was left behind.”

Ye Fan said nothing, gathering his divine sense and examining the place carefully. The more he looked, the more extraordinary it became, wreathed in a subtle, hazy quality.

His divine consciousness took form and extended outward — though he concealed it somewhat, the elder still felt a faint sense of pressure. “Please, Daoist Master, follow me.”

The Xuanyue elder led Ye Fan to a desolate and secluded place — not a blade of grass grew there, stone cliffs loomed in all directions, utterly barren and empty.

Yet despite all its apparent bleakness, the place carried a feeling of endless, immeasurable ages — as though time itself had no conclusion here.

The elder could sense nothing. But Ye Fan’s sharp perception caught a hint of something transcendent — beginningless and endless, stirring doubt and wonder in his heart.

“In years past, figures from great sects passed through here, sensed that a sage had once dwelt in this place, and came to search — but found nothing. This place is no secret locale. What does the Daoist Master perceive?” The Xuanyue elder explained.

“Xuanyue established its sect here — and has made no special discoveries at all?” Ye Fan pressed. He felt certain that this place was deeply significant.

“None whatsoever. In truth, a Supreme Elder from Yaochi once passed through by chance and lingered here for years — still found nothing. They concluded that an ancient sage had indeed once resided here, but that no Daoist methods had been left behind.”

Ye Fan’s heart sank half a degree. Even those from the Sacred Ground had found nothing — which meant this place truly could not have any great Dao preserved within it.

Ahead, a fractured stone hill loomed, within which sat an ancient cave. Time flowed like water; the void rang like a note — it was as though both streamed out from that place.

“The Dao is vast and without knowledge; the heart is boundless and without constraint; all things overlap and are without wrongness.”

Beside the ancient cave, carved into the cliff face, were only these three lines. The characters had nearly been worn away — impossible to say how many years they had endured.

Ye Fan’s heart shook violently. He knew he had arrived at a sacred place, a divine land — and this place was immensely important to him.

He had not discovered any secret techniques. He had not perceived any great Dao. His certainty rested entirely on those carved characters.

Those three lines were far too familiar. He could never forget them. This was the handwriting of the Wushi Great Emperor.

He had seen it before — in the Purple Mountain, on a stone book that stretched more than ten meters in length, its surface bearing three great characters clearly carved: Wushi Sutra. The brushwork was identical.

No wonder this place felt extraordinary, pervaded with that mysterious aura — a Great Emperor had once dwelt here.

Tens of thousands of years had passed, yet the traces he left behind had not faded. A faint immortal mist still swirled, allowing one to feel the supreme imperial might of that ancient Great Emperor.

This place had to be taken. Ye Fan decided it silently. It was vitally important to him.

Xuanyue Grotto, like Qingxia Sect, harbored roving bandits who plundered the surrounding region. He would feel no guilt over it. Seizing a sect like this was no different from ridding the world of a pestilence.

“This humble Daoist’s visit is, in fact, also for another matter. On orders from my master, I have come to propose something to your sect master.”

Ye Fan did not linger at the ancient cave. Once they had returned to the pavilion, he spoke these words.

“Your master is —” The Xuanyue elder was startled.

“My master is currently a guest at Qingxia, and hopes to maintain good neighborly relations with Xuanyue.” After saying this, Ye Fan focused his energy and carved the character for “harmony” (睦) into the stone table.

Then he rose, bid farewell, and drifted away light as a falling leaf — vanishing beyond the mountain gate in the blink of an eye.

He hadn’t even managed to see the Xuanyue sect master, let alone make an attempt on the old patriarch. For now, all he could do was buy time and keep them from making any rash moves.

He decided to enter seclusion immediately upon his return, refine the half-portion of Source he had obtained, and advance into the second tier of the divine palace realm. He needed time to create breathing room.

Half a quarter-hour later, the Xuanyue sect master himself came to the pavilion. After studying the character “harmony” carved into the stone table, he furrowed his brow. “That Daoist is no ordinary person. I fear I may not be his match. And he apparently has a master as well — this… unless the Supreme Patriarch emerges from seclusion.”

Ye Fan’s visit to Xuanyue had yielded a tremendous gain. The Wushi Great Emperor had left relics there — something of immeasurable importance to him.

“At the end of the immortal road, who stands at the peak? One glimpse of Wushi — and the Dao crumbles to nothing…” That verse came to mind, and Ye Fan could not be still.