Shen City was a place where the winds of fortune gathered. Great powers from the Eastern Wastelands, imperial clans from the Central Continent, and magnates from the Northern Plains often appeared here.

Everything in this place was extraordinarily luxurious and prosperous. The Drunken Immortal Pavilion, renowned as one of the eight great immortal restaurants of Shen City, was suspended in midair.

It was a realm of jade towers and exquisite palaces. Every brick and tile of the palace halls was carved from jade — magnificent and splendid, like a dream made real.

Ye Fan and Li Heishui politely declined the others and ascended the Drunken Immortal Pavilion together with the imperial prince of Great Xia and Yao Yue Kong. The little nun naturally came along as well.

White mist swirled. This expanse of palace halls sat nestled among the clouds — carved beams and painted rafters, resplendent in gold and jade, as though they had arrived at the ancient Court of Heaven.

The group soared upward and stepped onto the white jade staircase. Looking back, they saw only swirling clouds and mist. Gazing down at the world below, it truly felt as though they had ascended to the immortal realm.

“I dare ask the heavens — are there truly immortals?” The imperial prince of Great Xia felt a wave of emotion and murmured the words aloud.

Ye Fan was momentarily stunned. Memories of the past contrasted with the present, and he fell into a brief trance.

In this world, cultivators could fly through the skies and traverse the earth, laughing freely above the clouds, crossing thousands of li in an instant. Were this his homeland, he would already be considered a deity.

The white jade avenue stretched forward like a bridge to heaven. They strolled along it, step by step, as many spiritual birds and rare beasts danced among the clouds and mist.

Between the towering palace halls, sixteen young women in the prime of their youth descended through the air, alighting among the swirling clouds. They bowed to the group respectfully and led them forward.

The Drunken Immortal Pavilion was exquisitely crafted — architecture of ancient style, as though it had weathered thousands of ages, etched with the marks of time. Majestic, yet carrying a quality known as depth and heritage.

Li Heishui smiled. “Everything here belongs to the Golden Family of the Northern Plains. Aren’t you afraid of stirring up trouble, Brother Yue Kong?”

“Guests are honored guests. They won’t be unreasonable and ruin their own reputation.”

Yao Yue Kong’s martial prowess was formidable — few peers could match him. Not long ago he had fought the Golden Family’s successor to the point of mutual defeat, and had formed a grudge with them.

“Distinguished guests, this way please.” All sixteen young women were cultivators of no small strength, yet here they served only to guide guests and pour wine and serve dishes.

“The Southern Heavenly Gate?!” Ye Fan’s expression shifted. Three ancient characters were inscribed on the grand towering gate ahead. Walking to this point, clouds and mist blanketed the ground underfoot.

“It’s modeled after the legendary ancient Court of Heaven.” The imperial prince of Great Xia introduced it, clearly a frequent visitor.

“I’ve never heard tell of this ancient Court of Heaven,” Ye Fan said.

“The Green Emperor, over ten thousand years ago, mentioned it in passing — that he wished to build a Court of Heaven, and had outlined this very layout. In the end, he fell before it could be realized.” Yao Yue Kong explained.

The Green Emperor was a great emperor of the demon race ten thousand years ago, an ancestor of Yan Ruyu. How many years he had lived was impossible to verify.

“Could there really have been an ancient Court of Heaven that collapsed?” Ye Fan harbored a suspicion.

“Impossible. The Green Emperor merely mentioned it offhandedly.” The imperial prince of Great Xia shook his head.

Passing through the Southern Heavenly Gate, an expansive vista opened before them, divided into four distinct zones representing the four seasons — spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

“This place is…” Ye Fan was astonished. It was far more vast than what could be seen from the ground below, with many palace halls, and four great garden zones each bearing the distinct scenery of its respective season.

Yao Yue Kong said, “There are four spatial barriers here. Though they can’t compare to the small worlds opened by ancient sages and saints, they’re almost self-contained spaces. The Golden Family of the Northern Plains has a very deep attainment in the Dao of space.”

One of the young women nearby spoke in a soft, gentle voice. “Honored guests, please select your garden zone.”

In the end, Ye Fan chose the winter scene. Ever since arriving in this world, he had never once witnessed a season of falling snow.

A crisp chill greeted them as they entered. This expanse of palace halls was draped in silver and white. Large snowflakes drifted down. They stood beneath the eaves, gazing out at a vast field of white.

Ye Fan fell into a momentary daze, his thoughts drifting to the past — another season of falling snow, those people and events…

Now, separated by an entire star domain, meeting again would be difficult indeed.

A faint fragrance drifted over. Hardy plum trees, standing proud against the snow and wind, bloomed in the bitter cold, scattering their crystalline petals through the chill.

They sat down, drinking wine while watching the snow and admiring the blossoms — a mood all their own.

After several cups of fine wine, even the white-robed little nun’s cheeks were flushed rosy, her large eyes bright and glistening.

“Your Highness the Princess, you are a monastic — how can you drink wine?” Ye Fan teased.

The white-robed little nun had not cut her hair; her snow-white cap concealed it beneath. She wrinkled her delicate nose and muttered softly, “I’m cultivating in the mundane world.”

Yao Yue Kong said, “I’ve long heard that Buddhism possesses all manner of divine techniques and wondrous arts — truly remarkable methods in this world. I’ve simply never had occasion to witness them.”

Ye Fan’s intent was to steer the conversation toward Buddhism, hoping to probe indirectly for news of Shakyamuni. However, neither the imperial prince of Great Xia nor the little nun would speak in detail.

“What is the current Buddha called — the Buddha of the Past, or the Tathagata Buddha?” Ye Fan quietly had Li Heishui voice the question on his behalf.

“The Buddha is the World-Honored One. There is no other name.” The white-robed little nun said.

“Who is Shakyamuni?” Ye Fan asked with studied nonchalance.

The little nun’s flushed cheeks stiffened at once. Her bright large eyes fixed upon the small wine cup, and she said nothing more.

The imperial prince of Great Xia’s expression turned solemn. He sighed. “Ah — let us not mention that name. In the Western Desert, it is a taboo. I too wish to know exactly what occurred. Having pored through ancient texts, I could only arrive at a single conclusion: from that time onward, Buddhism had no more Tathagata.”

“Why do they say that?” Ye Fan pressed, puzzled.

“It seems… the Buddha has already passed into nirvana.” The imperial prince of Great Xia said these words and slowly shook his head.

“Brother Xia, you’re being unfair.” Li Heishui raised his wine cup and drank it himself. “You’ve already spoken to this point — why are you still hemming and hawing? Are you deliberately keeping us in suspense?”

The imperial prince of Great Xia was named Xia Yiming, and the white-robed little nun was named Xia Yilin. Having become acquainted, the group began addressing each other informally.

“There are those who say he is the World-Honored One, and those who say he is not. There is talk of a traitor who may be connected to him — and even claims that he is the demonic shell of the Buddha.” The imperial prince of Great Xia, Xia Yiming, stopped speaking and refused to say more.

Yao Yue Kong said, “Prince, you’ve already spoken this far — could you not be a little more specific?”

“This is the fragment of secret that I have heard. There is nothing more. Under no circumstances must this be repeated — it would bring the disaster of being killed.” The imperial prince of Great Xia Xia Yiming said.

“What secret is so dangerous? Who would kill us?” Ye Fan asked.

“Let us speak no more of these matters — there is truly nothing to be gained.” The imperial prince of Great Xia, Xia Yiming, shook his head firmly.

“Brother Xia, a person of your standing still has things to fear?” Yao Yue Kong was puzzled.

“As for the affairs of Buddhism — we truly should say no more.” Xia Yiming raised his eyes and looked around, gazing out at the vast expanse of falling snow. “Mount Sumeru is no ordinary place.”

Seeing him like this, the others could not press further. The imperial prince of Great Xia truly knew only so much.

Ye Fan posed a different question. “How long has Buddhism existed?”

“It has existed since ancient times.” The little nun Xia Yilin, with her pure, wide eyes filled with puzzlement, gave him a look that said: how do you not know even this?

“Since ancient times?!” Ye Fan was astonished. Buddhism had preceded Shakyamuni by over two thousand years — it had already existed before him. This revelation left him in a brief, stunned stupor.

“Few in the Eastern Wastelands know of Buddhism. Not knowing that it has existed since ancient times is perfectly understandable.” Yao Yue Kong smiled and said this to the young nun.

Ye Fan reflected. On the other end of the star domain, though Buddhism was traditionally said to have been founded by Shakyamuni, there had already been Buddhist practitioners before him. Rather than saying he created it, it would be more accurate to say he gave it great flourishing.

Some ancient scriptures recorded that when Shakyamuni was traveling, he witnessed Buddhist practitioners harming their own bodies in ascetic practice and deemed it not the right Dharma. It was from that time onward that the Dharma of the Tathagata emerged.

He felt as though he had grasped something. He asked no further, turning it over in his mind carefully for a while before returning to the present.

Outside the palace halls stretched an endless, boundless field of white. Snow fell in abundance; plum blossoms sent their subtle fragrance through the bitter cold. The group enjoyed the wine and conversation.

This banquet was worth five hundred catties of source — already quite expensive. But compared to the legendary immortal banquets, it was utterly insignificant.

“The immortal banquets here cost tens of thousands of catties of source per sitting. They are prepared exclusively for Holy Lords and great powers, and must be reserved in advance — otherwise even the ingredients alone would be difficult to gather.”

Even Yao Yue Kong, the young lord of the Celestial Demon Palace, clicked his tongue at the mention of the immortal banquets.

“Isn’t that a bit excessive?” Ye Fan asked.

“Not at all. Take one of the dishes — the Divine Phoenix Wing. It is truly prepared from a bird king possessing partial bloodline of the divine phoenix, condensing the essence of its entire being. An ordinary cultivator who eats it could break through an entire cultivation stage.”

Ye Fan suddenly asked, “Is there a Celestial Roc Wing as well?”

“There used to be a Celestial Roc banquet, but the old Roc King made a great scene over it, and in the end, because of him, the dish of golden-winged celestial rocs was removed from the menu.”

Ye Fan opened his mouth, momentarily speechless.

Li Heishui said, “Immortal banquets are held only a few times a year at most — only when a Holy Lord hosts a feast for great powers does one occasionally take place. We’d best not dwell on it. That said, I truly would love to drink a cup of Enlightenment Tea from an immortal banquet. They say even great powers may experience sudden enlightenment from it.”

Yao Yue Kong shook his head. “Enlightenment Tea — even at an immortal banquet, it may not appear once in several years. This stuff is a priceless divine object! Across the entire Eastern Wastelands there is only a single Enlightenment Tea tree. If it can produce thirty-some leaves per year, that is considered good. And who knows how many pairs of eyes are fixed upon it.”

“There is only one Enlightenment Tea tree in the world — where is it?” Ye Fan asked in astonishment.

“Within the Deathless Mountain.” Yao Yue Kong said.

Sss!

Everyone drew a sharp breath.

The Deathless Mountain was one of the seven great life restricted zones of the Eastern Wastelands, located in the northern region of the central territory — a place where life was forbidden.

Yao Yue Kong continued, “The only Enlightenment Tea tree grows within the Deathless Mountain. Through various means, only thirty-some leaves can be extracted from it each year.”

“Is that not far from the Sacred Cliff?” Ye Fan asked.

“That’s right — not very far at all. It is said that the Sacred Cliff was, in ancient times, a cliff face cut away from the Deathless Mountain by someone wielding supreme great power.” Yao Yue Kong, as the young lord of the Celestial Demon Palace, was knowledgeable about many matters.

Ye Fan nodded. That place was somewhere he must visit, and it would not be too far in the future — for the Sacred Cliff held the Nine Secrets.

The Sacred Cliff was connected to the Deathless Mountain. A great ancient holy figure of the Desolate Era had also fallen there, and the cliff face had been stained dark red by blood. Additionally, a great emperor had carved formation patterns there.

Ye Fan felt certain that place held many secrets.

Suddenly, the tinkling sound of music rang out. In the neighboring palace hall, a young woman in white robes was playing the zither in solitude, and a flock of spiritual birds had been drawn over.

These palace halls were open, meant for honored guests to enjoy the snow and the plum blossoms. Sometimes one could catch a glimpse of an adjacent hall.

“It’s An Miaoyi…” Ye Fan’s expression shifted slightly.

“Immortal An — why is she playing the zither alone here?” The imperial prince of Great Xia asked.

“Miaoyi also reserved a banquet here, intending to treat little brother Gufeng to wine — but was refused.” An Miaoyi’s dark brows curved gracefully, and her flawless jade face carried a faint smile.

Gufeng — Ancient Wind — was the name Ye Fan was currently using. He could not travel through Shen City under his real name.

“Immortal An need not put it that way. Why not join us instead and drink together?” Ye Fan smiled.

Yao Yue Kong and the imperial prince of Great Xia extended their invitations as well. An Miaoyi gave a soft laugh, nodded, and came over gracefully.

She arrived lightly, glanced at Ye Fan with a sideways look from her large eyes, and smiled. “Little Brother Gufeng, you are the first person to ever refuse me. Miaoyi is very good at holding grudges, you know.”