The small tavern was quiet and deserted — no other customers. Zhang Wenchang had grown even more aged. His eyes were dim and listless; he stood there dull-witted, like a scarecrow hollowed of any soul.
He was thoroughly dispirited, not a glimmer of light in his gaze, letting people treat him however they wished. Life had not been kind to him. He always responded to mistreatment with silence alone. His world had become a place of unrelenting gray.
“You useless old man — you’ve already seen the Sacred Body, haven’t you, and didn’t bother to tell us?” a young man demanded in a cold voice.
“I haven’t seen him.” Zhang Wenchang responded with a blank expression. A flicker of desolation passed through his eyes, and his entire presence was suffused with a heavy, stagnant weight.
“What if he really did die — that would let him off far too easy,” another young man remarked with dissatisfaction. He shot Zhang Wenchang a sharp look. “You’d better not be lying to us — there’ll be consequences if you are.”
“Several months ago, he fought a decisive battle against one of the Central Province’s young generation kings. Yet he hasn’t shown himself in three months. Many people are saying he’s already dead.”
Ji Hui laughed coldly. “He’s definitely not dead yet. Three months ago, he appeared one hundred fifty ten-thousand li away, and his destination was obviously Yan Kingdom — this is the only place he has ties to.”
“Great-Grandmother, you keep insisting he’s alive — but why hasn’t he shown himself at all?” A young man beside her asked in bewilderment. He was one of Ji Hui’s direct-line descendants.
“That little brat is cunning. I suspect he returned some time ago already, and simply hasn’t let himself be seen.” Ji Hui’s eyes were sharp and cutting, fixed unblinkingly on Zhang Wenchang.
“He’s going to die anyway — why should we go to all this trouble? There’s no point making such a fuss over a dead man.” A grandnephew of Ji Hui spoke up.
“That little wretch burned away half my body. I was in secluded cultivation for over a full year recovering. If I can’t personally flay him alive, how will I ever vent this grievance?” Ji Hui struck the ground sharply with her dragon-headed staff, then smiled with deep, meaningful coldness. “When different civilizations collide, they produce brilliant sparks. For a cultivator, to imprint upon oneself the experiences another has lived — that would be a supreme and transcendent experience.”
“Old ancestor, what are you talking about?” The several young members of the Ji Family looked at her in confusion.
“You wouldn’t understand even if I explained.” Ji Hui’s face turned cold. She said nothing more.
Not far away, Ye Fan’s heart lurched violently — like a tidal wave crashing within him. The upper echelons of the Ji Family must have already discovered that he came from the other side of the stellar void. Nothing else could explain a statement like that.
Back in the Northern Region, Ji Haoyue had once let slip something similar — hypothesizing that if the Sacred Body was not of this world, it might be possible to break the curse.
“But if we kill him, there’s that person from the Jiang Family… We can’t afford to provoke them.” A middle-aged man in his forties spoke up, a trace of worry crossing his face.
“Who said anything about killing him?” Ji Hui’s expression was somber, a venomously cold smile spreading across her lips. “He’s going to die anyway — killing him would be too merciful. I want to peel back his skin slowly, draw out his bones one by one, and torment him at my leisure.”
“You old death-defying crone!” From a distance, Ye Fan laughed coldly.
“Even so, it may still provoke that person — we should think this through carefully.” The middle-aged man urged caution.
“I know my limits. I won’t kill him. And even if something does go wrong, it has nothing to do with the family — I’ll bear it all myself.” Ji Hui said in a cold, measured tone.
The middle-aged man said no more. Ji Hui’s father was an Elder Patriarch of immense authority, before whom even the Ji Family’s Saint Ruler had to show a measure of deference.
He had already discerned the hidden implication — that the Sacred Body hailed from some unknown place, and that everything he had experienced was a supreme transcendence for any cultivator to imprint upon themselves. This had almost certainly been leaked down from that Elder Patriarch.
“The Ji Family’s Divine King may already be gone from this world…” one young man said with a cold smile, showing little reverence.
“Silence — watch your words!” the middle-aged man reprimanded sharply.
Though he himself suspected the Divine King had most likely passed long ago, the older generation still harbored deep reservations — fearing the Divine King might be reborn into the world. And the more powerful a person was, the more wary they tended to be.
“What’s the point of guarding this half-broken old man? The Sacred Body obviously isn’t coming.” A young man glanced dismissively at Zhang Wenchang and shoved him aside. “Out of the way — can’t you see I’m trying to walk through here?”
Zhang Wenchang stumbled, nearly toppling over. His temples were flecked with white, crow’s feet gathered at the corners of his eyes, and his frame was frail. He crashed heavily into the edge of a table and barely managed to steady himself.
He stood quietly to the side, said nothing, sunken deep in despair — a flicker of desolation passing through his eyes as he endured all of this in silence.
Ji Hui’s expression remained cold and indifferent. She looked at the young cultivators around her and said: “Cut off one of his arms — but leave him alive. His experiences are also a supreme transcendence. If that little wretch still refuses to show himself in the coming days, cut off one of the cripple’s legs as well. Let’s see how hard-hearted he truly is — and how long he can hold out.”
Ye Fan had never hated a person the way he hated Ji Hui in that moment. He wanted to tear her apart limb from limb, then nail her to the gates of Yan City for every soul in the city to witness.
His will was already steeled and unyielding — yet even now, fury surged like a battering ram against the very lintel of his mind, and he nearly ground his teeth to dust. Carrying the Divine Punishment Whip, he strode forward with heavy steps, bearing down on the small tavern.
He could not stand by and watch Zhang Wenchang’s arm get cut off. His great undertaking was complete — the sacred medicines had been gathered, and he had successfully walked out of the ancient forbidden land. He had no more concerns in the Southern Region. He let his true face be seen as he approached.
“Ji Hui — you decrepit old hag!” Ye Fan’s voice was ice-cold beyond measure, enough to chill a person to their very soul.
All along the street, every single person felt the temperature plunge in an instant. An invisible killing intent made it impossible not to shudder — a cold dread that emanated from deep within, setting teeth and lips alike chattering.
“Little wretch — you’ve finally dared to show your face. I truly should have cut off that man’s arm sooner — you’d have come out much earlier.” Ji Hui’s eyes were glacially cold. Leaning on her dragon-headed staff, she rose abruptly to her feet.
The other Ji Family members all looked up in alarm, fixing their gazes on the blue-robed young man before them. So this was the Sacred Body? Many of them were seeing him for the very first time.
All along the street, a wave of shock swept through the crowd. Every cultivator in the vicinity surged forward, surrounding the small tavern until it was packed beyond all movement.
“The Sacred Body is still alive! Wasn’t he supposed to have died three months ago?!”
Everyone was utterly stunned. This was explosive news, and it spread outward with staggering speed — drawing even more cultivators rushing toward the scene. The streets emptied as though a tide had swept them clean, sending the entirety of Yan City into an uproar.
Within moments, cultivators swarmed in from every direction.
“So he’s the Sacred Body — the one who stirred such world-shaking turbulence in the Northern Region that even sect leaders from the Central Province were shocked. And yet he looks like nothing more than an ordinary young man.”
“Word had spread that this young man surnamed Ye had died three months ago — how has he reappeared?!”
The cultivators gathered throughout Yan City all buzzed with discussion.
Ye Fan, clad in blue robes with jet-black hair and bright, clear eyes, had an appearance that was understated and pleasant — it was difficult to connect him to the legends of golden blood energy surging to the heavens and a physical body said to rival a true dragon.
Inside the small tavern, Zhang Wenchang’s dull eyes suddenly sparked with life. Deeply anxious, he shouted to Ye Fan: “Run — get out of here!”
“Shut your mouth, you useless old cripple!” One of the Ji Family’s young cultivators snapped, shoving him hard. Zhang Wenchang stumbled and fell heavily into a cluster of tables and chairs.
Ye Fan’s expression went cold in an instant. His gaze locked onto that young man. “You — I’m killing you first.”
“Big words, little wretch — now that you’ve come, don’t even think about leaving!” Ji Hui’s voice was dripping with menace.
Swish!
Ye Fan vanished. He reappeared in front of Zhang Wenchang in the blink of an eye, swept him into the Pure Jade Bottle in an instant, then extended a single finger — and with a soft thud, drove it straight through the forehead of the young man beside him.
He had said he would kill that young man first. And so he had — with a single strike.
The young man let out one final cry. His eyes filled with terror; blood and brain matter streamed from his forehead. He collapsed straight to the ground, dead.
Ye Fan flickered and was gone, retreating out of the small tavern to stand before them all, coldly watching those who remained. He had moved with such speed that not a single person had been able to react.
“The Great Void Technique!” The crowd cried out in unison.
The secret art Ye Fan had used was none other than the Ji Family’s own Great Void Technique — yet he wielded it with even greater mastery than any member of the Ji Family, his form formless and traceless as he moved in and out of the void, impossible to guard against.
“Don’t let him escape!” Ji Hui’s face darkened to iron.
Her hatred of Ye Fan ran bone-deep. Over a year ago, Ye Fan had immolated one of the Ji Family’s Elder Patriarchs and burned away half of her own body — she had barely escaped being crippled outright. Not a single moment passed without her wanting revenge — and she had long since forgotten how all of this had come about.
“Run? That thought never once crossed my mind. Why would I leave before killing you?!” Ye Fan’s voice was frigid.
Inside the small tavern, several silent figures materialized — all of them elders of the Dragon Transformation Secret Realm, formidable in power. They had been concealed here for days, placed specifically to intercept Ye Fan.
“You must all be Ji Hui’s nephews and grandchildren — I’ll kill you one by one, and make her watch every last moment of it.” Ye Fan’s gaze swept over the young cultivators inside the tavern.
At the same moment, a brilliant imprint surged out from within his body — deep as a fathomless abyss, its presence awe-inspiring and overwhelming.
“That’s… the Divine King Imprint!”
“Heavens — can it be that the peerless Divine King has not yet departed this world?!”
The whole crowd cried out in disbelief, every face awash with shock.
This was naturally Ye Fan’s deliberate doing — meant to intimidate, to prevent any ancient living fossil from making a sudden move. In truth, this imprint was no longer tied to the Divine King at all; Ye Fan had strengthened it himself from his own sacred body essence. He had no idea whether the Divine King still lived.
Swish!
Ye Fan vanished in an instant, plunging into the small tavern. A Dragon Transformation Secret Realm elder moved to block his path — but could not come close to matching his speed.
Thud!
With one palm, Ye Fan reduced Ji Hui’s great-grandson to pieces, killing him on the spot. Then he flickered again and reappeared on the street, confronting them head-on in a standoff.
“You—” Ji Hui shook with rage. This was her own direct blood, a child she had deeply cherished — and Ye Fan had ended him right before her eyes.
“You always enjoyed hunting me down — today, I thought I’d try doing some hunting of my own. Let you feel what that’s like!” The corner of Ye Fan’s mouth carried a faint, mocking smile.
“Kill him — all of you, together!” Ji Hui’s body trembled with fury, her fingers quivering.
Yet the several Dragon Transformation Secret Realm elders did not dare strike to kill. They rushed forward, intending to subdue Ye Fan first.
They had, however, gravely miscalculated Ye Fan’s power. Not one of them could so much as catch a glimpse of his silhouette. The old madman’s footwork, once deployed, represented the absolute pinnacle of speed beneath the heavens.
Swish!
Ye Fan surged into the small tavern, seized one of the young men by the collar, locked a hand around his throat, and said in a frigid voice: “I believe you’re her grandnephew, if I heard correctly just now.”
“Let him go!” Ji Hui shrieked.
“Of course — here you are.” Ye Fan nodded agreeably.
“Spare me — this has nothing to do with me!” the young man screamed.
Thud!
Ye Fan drove the young man’s skull down into his own chest cavity, then flung the body to Ji Hui, laughing coldly as he turned to his next target.
“Kill him!” Ji Hui looked half-mad, hair flying wildly, swinging her dragon-headed staff as she hurled herself forward.
The several Dragon Transformation elders moved together, positioning themselves around the young cultivators in an attempt to shield them.
Bang!
Ye Fan thrust out a golden great hand and sent one Dragon Transformation elder flying. Then he snatched up another nearly paralyzed young man who had been scared nearly senseless.
“Ji Hui — catch, you wretched hag!”
Thud!
The young man’s skull was crushed, his body hurled toward Ji Hui.
“You little wretch—” Ji Hui was beside herself with rage, her whole body trembling. These were her own family’s descendants — her own children and grandchildren.
Ye Fan killed with every ten steps, moving through them as though there were no one to stop him. He did not go after Ji Hui directly — he had drawn inspiration from something this old hag had once said. Sometimes, tormenting a person is far more terrifying than simply killing them.
Thud, thud…
One by one, every young cultivator in the small tavern was cut down by Ye Fan. He did not show even a shred of mercy. He had watched with his own eyes how these people had treated Zhang Wenchang — there was no reason whatsoever to spare them.
“You wretched old hag — it’s your turn now!” Ye Fan’s voice was deadly cold.
The Ji Family’s several Dragon Transformation Secret Realm elders could no longer hold their composure. Ye Fan was carrying out a massacre right in front of them, and they could do nothing to stop it — a humiliation beyond bearing.
“We are here — put away your arrogance!” they said in voices sharp with menace.
“So what if you’ve reached the Dragon Transformation Secret Realm?!” Ye Fan was unmoved, stepping forward.
“Kill him!” Ji Hui, her hair disheveled, looked truly on the verge of madness.
The several Dragon Transformation elders formed a protective wall in front of her — reasoning that if Ye Fan killed her right under their noses, they would all be shamed beyond redemption.
BOOM!
Suddenly, Ye Fan unleashed a surge of terrifying energy. The Chaotic Seed Green Lotus and the Immortal King Descending from the Nine Heavens and other phenomena manifested all at once, sending the elders stumbling backward.
“Strike!”
Ye Fan seized a golden long spear and drove it forward, piercing through everything in his path without anyone able to oppose its edge — shattering the limits of speed itself.
Thud!
He drove the spear clean through Ji Hui’s body — no power in the world could have blocked that supreme and brilliant thrust. It was nothing short of godlike valor.
BOOM!
Ye Fan blazed with light from head to toe. The golden radiance burned like divine flames, blazing and roaring. He was like an ancient war god of primordial times — one could not help but tremble before him.
“Put her — down!” The Dragon Transformation elders all rushed forward.
Ji Hui had not died. She writhed on the golden spear, struggling desperately to break free.
Ye Fan strode forward in great steps, charging toward the city gates. He was still several hundred zhang away when he suddenly hurled the golden spear with tremendous force — it streaked through the sky as a bolt of gold, carrying Ji Hui with it as it flew.
Thud!
Like a golden lightning bolt, the spear drove into the gatehouse of the city wall, vibrating without stop — and Ji Hui was nailed to it.