Everyone was left with their mouths agape, utterly speechless. The legendary great outlaw was truly extraordinary — so direct, so decisive!

“You little wretch — I’ll teach you to never learn your lesson!”

“Crack, crack…”

The slaps rang out with exceptional clarity. Jiang Yi swung his great open palm, striking Jiang Yichen across the face, coming down with extreme force, showing absolutely no mercy.

The crowd looked at one another, not one person stepping forward. This figure was too ferocious — the other’s great-grandfather was right there, yet he struck in front of his face without hesitation. No one had ever seen anyone so powerful.

Moreover, as he swung his palm, he called out “you little wretch” with every strike, reprimanding him in that manner — truly leaving everyone stupefied, making Jiang Yichen’s great-grandfather wonder where to put his face.

“And you—” Jiang Yi seized the gray-haired middle-aged man by the collar, pulled him up to eye level as easily as lifting a little chicken, and without a word, landed thirty-six slaps before saying, “A man of a hundred-some years, and you still have no virtuous conduct — I’ll beat some into you!”

Everyone was absolutely dazed. They knew he was a hundred-some years old — and he was being disciplined this way? Where would the man’s dignity be going forward? Where was his face?

“Enough!” Jiang Yichen’s great-grandfather, Jiang Rui, called out in a low, sharp tone. He stepped forward with large strides. “Have you struck enough?”

“Not yet!” Jiang Yi answered very simply.

“Crack, crack…”

As he spoke, he continued striking — a round of eighteen slaps forward and backward. By the time he finished, Jiang Yichen and the gray-haired middle-aged man had long been dazed half-unconscious, nearly crumpling to the ground.

Those standing by had no idea what to say. Jiang Rui, this pinnacle powerhouse, had spoken up — yet he responded with this, continuing to beat without a care. The sheer dominance of it was beyond the pale.

“You—” Jiang Rui’s expression turned cold.

“What, are you thinking of coming at me too?” Jiang Yi glanced at him, then kept swinging his palm.

“You little wretches, I’ll teach you not to practice virtue — you little scoundrels, this is what you get for scheming…”

Jiang Yi calling them little wretches and little scoundrels with every breath was turning Jiang Rui’s face practically green. Not only was he beating his junior members — he was speaking of them in those terms, making the veins at Jiang Rui’s temples throb furiously.

All around, quite a few of the Jiang Family’s elder generation and middle-aged generation had arrived, every one of them in a daze. This great outlaw ancestor was afraid of absolutely nothing — daring to do and say anything.

But on reflection, it all made sense. This ancestor had in the past been so unruly as to rebel and abandon the clan — compared to that, what did this amount to?

“You little punk — dare to bully Tingting again, do anything wicked again, and I’ll stuff you into a sea-eye abyss!”

Jiang Yi finally stopped — not because he wanted to spare the two of them, but because he had grown bored with the beating. He turned to Jiang Huairen and Xiao Tingting and said, “However he wronged you — come and take it back yourself.”

With that, he was implying they should go slap him themselves. He really could do anything — everyone else stood there in a stunned daze.

“His grandfather is too amazing…” Li Heishui and the others muttered, also feeling completely dazed.

Jiang Huairen was itching to go and try a few slaps himself.

Tingting felt embarrassed. Her grand-uncle’s outlaw ancestor was absolutely domineering to the point of being unbelievable, and she was almost too embarrassed to watch. She tugged at the corner of Jiang Huairen’s robe. “Little Uncle, that’s enough.”

“You — for dealing with this sort of vile person, he ought to be chopped into ten pieces.” Jiang Huairen patted her head.

Everyone present showed contempt for him. Was that any way to teach a child? Truly beyond the pale.

“Did any of you get hurt?” Jiang Yi asked.

“No.” Xiao Tingting immediately shook her head.

The people close to Jiang Yichen’s faction all had the urge to spit blood. It was you lot who had been doing the striking — and you’re asking whether anyone was hurt? Unless one of Jiang Huairen’s fingers was injured in the slapping.

Jiang Yi dropped Jiang Yichen and the gray-haired middle-aged man and said in a deep voice, “I don’t want to say more unnecessary words. Bring out the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath for me!”

Many people could not remain calm. All of them showed unusual expressions — who would not be moved by a sacred artifact such as this?

To say nothing of the fact that it had now come into the Jiang Family’s possession — even in the past, when it had a rightful owner, the various holy lands had set aside their pride and scrambled for it. Trying to have it relinquished now was next to impossible.

An ownerless ancient scripture appearing in the world would throw all under heaven into chaos, with everyone frantically competing for it.

An ownerless transcendent sacred weapon appearing — that would be even more so. For only ancient Great Emperors could forge such things — they were more rare and precious than ancient scriptures, and a holy land that gained command of one was as if it had obtained a portion of a Great Emperor’s own combat power. Even if an ancient sage-level figure appeared, wielding such a sacred weapon could unleash the divine might of a Great Emperor. In the past, a peerless divine king of the Jiang Family had relied on the Hengyu Sacred Furnace alone to level an entire holy land on the ice plains.

The Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath — with the primal breath having taken form as a cauldron — was essentially a transcendent artifact in embryonic form, a treasure coveted by ancient Great Emperors beyond all others. Who could face it with equanimity?

“The Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath is with Elder Thirteen.” The pinnacle powerhouse Jiang Rui spoke.

Jiang Yi’s expression darkened. “Then I ask the sixth elder brother to summon Elder Thirteen here.”

“He left the clan two days ago to wander the world.” Jiang Rui replied.

“What a remarkable coincidence!” Jiang Yi’s expression was very ugly.

Not far away, Ye Fan’s heart sank. It was not as simple as just Jiang Yichen — by now it was obvious. Someone was backing him, intending to keep the sacred artifact. He knew this trouble had grown large.

No wonder — an unprecedented immortal treasure of this caliber, once it entered one of the holy lands, was extremely difficult to be disgorged, for its value was too immense, sufficient to cause a holy land to turn against anyone. It didn’t matter who the person was — divine king, sage — only a transcendent weapon was genuinely real. If they could seize it, the Jiang Clan’s future would surely be all the more prosperous, beyond the ability of any holy land to compare with!

Because the Dragon-Patterned Cauldron of Yaochi was the cumulative effort of successive generations of sages — not forged by a Great Emperor. The Jiang Clan had given birth to Emperor Hengyu and possessed the Great Emperor’s weapon-forging sacred methods. Perhaps in the future they truly could evolve a second Great Emperor sacred weapon from within it.

A holy land possessing two transcendent sacred weapons — it would truly stand as the number one sacred ground under heaven, with nothing capable of rivaling it!

In the face of such vast self-interest, even many of the Jiang Clan’s more detached members had stirred with desire — to say nothing of those who stopped at nothing.

In that instant, Ye Fan thought of many things. The Ancient Assassin Sacred Court’s attempts to kill him — naturally commissioned by some ancient lineage — had likely included the Jiang Clan’s hand in it.

If he died, the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath would naturally fall into their possession, justified and legitimate.

“I want to know — when will Elder Thirteen appear? After he returns, will he return the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath?” Jiang Yi asked in a deep voice.

“When he will return is truly difficult to say. As for the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath, I trust he will handle it properly.” Jiang Rui answered.

“What do you mean by that?” Jiang Yi fixed him with a stare.

“Damn it — that plainly means they intend to renegue and not return it.” The Great Black Dog ground its teeth, glaring with venom at certain individuals among the Jiang Clan.

Ye Fan also felt deep resentment. The Peerless Divine King had done him enormous favors, and he had held the Jiang Family in deep gratitude — yet certain people’s conduct was something he found very difficult to accept.

Was this holding a kindness over him in order to extract a gain?

He had come this time to deliver the immortal sacred medicine. But he could not be calm right now — if he could not see the Divine King, he would not leave a single sacred fruit behind.

“Ugh, that hurts so much…” The dazed Jiang Yichen regained consciousness, groaning without cease.

Ye Fan stilled his mind, sat cross-legged in the void, and operated his Dao scriptures and mental cultivation method, carefully reaching out with his senses. At the same time, he formed hand seals with both hands, inscribing nine ancient characters into the void.

These nine ancient characters were the innate divine script of the ancient Great Emperor — also recorded in the Wheel Sea chapter of the Dao scriptures — capable of suppressing the self and achieving an instant of eternity.

In this moment, with a stirring of his mind, he sensed a thread of the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath’s vital energy — it was not far away within the Jiang Clan, on a certain island.

This cauldron had been refined by him according to the records in the Dao scriptures, following the supreme ancient path of one weapon to defeat ten thousand methods. Between it and him existed a mysterious connection that could not be severed.

Ye Fan’s eyes snapped open. He communicated everything he had sensed to Jiang Huairen and the Black Emperor.

At once, Jiang Troublemaker went to his grandfather’s side and relayed the information by transmitted voice.

Jiang Yi fixed his gaze on a distant island, and began walking toward it in large strides. “What belongs to whom on that island?”

Within the Jiang Clan, his standing was very special — the clan’s elder ancestor figures looked favorably upon him, and he had twelve even fiercer figures behind him. No one was willing to fall out with him.

“That is Elder Thirteen’s place of cultivation.” The nearby Ninth Great-grandfather answered.

“I miss Elder Thirteen very much. Since he’s not here, let me go take a stroll on his island — to remember him through his belongings.” Jiang Yi smiled.

“Swish!”

In an instant he charged into the island. Ye Fan and the others stood atop the chessboard formation pattern and moved laterally to follow him in.

Jiang Rui’s expression turned grim and he followed after, and the others trailed in behind — a full several hundred people.

Jiang Yichen and the gray-haired middle-aged man stared at Ye Fan and Jiang Huairen with eyes full of venomous hatred, their teeth nearly ground to powder — yet they too did not dare to act rashly. Fear had crept into their hearts; they were afraid of being beaten to death by that great outlaw ancestor.

Ye Fan stood in the void and further sensed the vital energy of the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath, having nearly pinpointed the location.

It was just ahead — on that sheer cliff face, from which a massive waterfall a thousand zhang tall was cascading. His weapon was hidden there.

“Is Elder Thirteen truly not on the island? If I discover he’s been avoiding me and hiding, don’t blame me for falling out!” Jiang Yi’s transmitted voice reverberated coldly, shaking the entire island.

Everyone was startled. This great outlaw ancestor, notoriously fierce throughout the years, always meant what he said — swift and decisive in action. He was absolutely not speaking empty words.

Ye Fan transmitted his location to the others, then followed Jiang Yi to the base of the cliff.

A thousand-zhang silver waterfall — a vast expanse of white, the sound of it deafening, cascading downward over several thousand zhang in total — tremendously magnificent.

“This is where Elder Thirteenth normally loves to meditate in quiet.” Someone spoke.

Elder Thirteenth, Jiang Chuan, would listen to the falls here every day, watching the stars shift and the sun rise and set, contemplating the life-force of all things as they evolved and transformed. Sometimes he would sit for months at a stretch, motionless.

“Elder Thirteen has reached this level in his cultivation — no wonder his ambitions are so large that he dares try to claim even the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath.” Jiang Yi gave a cold laugh.

“Boom!”

He drove his fist into the cliff, shattering it. Even the thousand-zhang waterfall was severed, white foamy waves sweeping across the high sky like a terrifying ocean surge.

“Jiang Yi, what are you doing?” Jiang Rui shouted, pressing forward several large paces. “Why are you destroying Elder Thirteen’s place of cultivation?”

“I am teaching him the truth of breaking down in order to rebuild.” Jiang Yi replied with cold detachment, throwing another fist that reduced half a cliff face to fine powder. “Without breaking down, there is no rebuilding — only by transcending can one truly go beyond!”

“Boom!”

Right at that moment, an ancient pagoda shot into the sky, suspended in midair, emanating a presence that suppressed all of heaven and earth. It was clearly a great artifact — a rare treasure.

“This is Elder Thirteenth’s weapon. No wonder he sat here year-round — he was actually nurturing his proof-of-Dao artifact.” Someone exclaimed in shock.

Others could not sense it — but Ye Fan could clearly perceive the vital energy of the Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath. That sacred artifact had been gestated in his Wheel Sea; the connection between him and it could not be severed.

“Thud!”

Jiang Yi reached out one large hand and grabbed forward. Jiang Rui changed color, reached out to block him, and demanded, “Jiang Yi — what are you doing? Do you want to forcibly seize Elder Thirteen’s sacred object?”

“I’m just curious — I want to have a look.”

“Clang!”

The ancient pagoda, caught under the immense pressure from both of them, erupted, shooting out ten thousand divine rays, shaking loose a sky of raging flames, surging like a vast ocean.

In the void, Ye Fan inscribed characters, his bearing solemn and sacred. The nine mysterious characters of an ancient Great Emperor manifested, and he at once established a deeper and more intimate connection with his own cauldron.

The small golden lake at the center of his brow took form as a divine spirit — soaring free, as though cast from gold, dazzling and brilliant. Looking closely, it bore his own exact likeness.

Ye Fan strained to the utmost and secretly deployed the “All” character secret. In an instant the golden, divine-like figure was magnified tenfold in brilliance!

The golden spirit shone in radiant splendor — that was himself, continuously evolving, seated cross-legged before his own brow, drawing upon the great Dao, connecting with his own cauldron.

“Boom!”

Suddenly, the primal breath of all creation surged outward and cascaded down from the ancient pagoda. An ancient and unadorned cauldron, unstoppable, flew out.

“The Cauldron of All Creation’s Primal Breath!” Many people cried out, simultaneously reaching their hands forward to seize it.

The golden spirit at the center of Ye Fan’s brow let out a roar to the sky. An immense pressure of spiritual consciousness swept across all eight directions. The ancient and unadorned cauldron, as though answering a summons, flew back in an instant — hovering above his head, ten thousand threads of primal breath cascading down, heavy as mountains, thread by thread, enveloping him within.

“Don’t let him take that cauldron!” Jiang Yichen shouted from a distance.

At this moment, without him needing to say anything, many individuals had already sealed off the ten directions, preparing to reach out and fight for it.

“Sixth Elder Brother — what do you mean by this?” Jiang Yi said in a cold voice, facing off against Jiang Rui.

The Ninth Great-grandfather also stepped forward. “Sixth Elder Brother, do you truly intend to allow them to do this? This is not your way.”

Jiang Rui’s expression was cold. He swept his gaze over both of them, then fixed his eyes on Ye Fan not far away, staring at the small cauldron above his head.

The primal breath of all creation cascaded downward — each thread capable of crushing a mountain — heavy as mountains all, the most rare and precious immortal object in the world. No one could face it calmly.

Ye Fan had recovered his cauldron, and his heart was moved. This was his proof-of-Dao artifact for the future — if it were lost, it would obstruct his progress forward.

“Jiang Yi, why must it come to this?”

At that moment, a clear and bright voice rang out. On a mountain peak not far away, a purple-robed man descended step by step. He appeared to be no older than around thirty, with jet-black hair falling like a waterfall and eyes as deep as the night sky, carrying an inborn kingly authority. His every movement seemed to merge as one with heaven and earth.

“Elder Thirteen…” Jiang Yi fixed his gaze on him.

“Jiang Yi brother, it appears you intend to obstruct me today — is a battle truly unavoidable?” The purple-robed man’s eyes flashed like lightning.

“You really think this cauldron belongs to you now? Do you actually plan to make us stay?” the Great Black Dog taunted. “If you have the ability, try and intercept this corner of the Great Emperor’s formation pattern!”

The chessboard formation pattern glimmered, bright and fading, ready to cross the void at any moment.

“This cauldron has a bond with my Jiang Family. It will be our clan’s second sacred weapon — it will remain here.” The purple-robed man, Jiang Chuan, looked down at Ye Fan, his tone weighty with authority, leaving no room for doubt.

In the distance, mysterious formation patterns surfaced, cutting across the sky, their momentum towering and earth-shaking, stunning to the heart and soul.

The Black Emperor changed color. “Emperor Hengyu’s corner of a formation pattern!”

“Indeed. Can you still cross the void?” Jiang Chuan glanced at it.

Ye Fan’s heart sank. This represented the will of a faction within the Jiang Clan — Jiang Rui and Jiang Chuan were their representatives. They intended to keep the cauldron, with no intention of returning it.