“Who are you?” The Holy Son of the Yin-Yang Sect wore an ugly expression, dark and brooding as stagnant water. This was the Yin-Yang Sect’s deepest wound — they hated nothing more than being spoken of this way.
Beside him, the other Holy Sons and Holy Daughters all turned to look, their expressions unfriendly as they fixed their gazes on Ye Fan.
“Just a passing stranger. What, were you thinking of destroying my master’s sect?” Ye Fan said with a smile.
“No need to wonder — you’re standing up for those few people, and your attitude makes it clear you haven’t put any of us in your eyes. How incredibly arrogant.” The Holy Son of the Yin-Yang Sect said coldly, deliberately drawing Wang Teng and the others into the conflict, hoping to unite everyone against a common enemy.
Beside him, Ji Ziyue’s large eyes blinked curiously as she fixed her gaze on Ye Fan, wrinkling her delicate nose slightly, carefully observing his every move.
More than two years had passed, yet she hadn’t changed at all — just as she had always been. Her eyes were as large and brilliant as black gemstones, full of life and spirit. Her eyelashes were long, and a pair of small dimples graced her face, giving her an air of playfulness and charm.
On her other side, Ji Haoyue’s black hair fell over his shoulders. His eyebrows were sharp and swept into his temples, his tiger-like eyes were bright and alert, and his bearing was heroic and imposing. His Divine King aura had grown even more intense; concealed by a secret treasure, his cultivation was impossible to gauge.
If there was one person who surprised Ye Fan most, it was Pang Bo. He had actually reached the Eighth Dragon Transformation — the same level as Ye Fan himself. Ye Fan had no idea how he had cultivated, but he had fallen not a single step behind.
Pang Bo was naturally of massive build, towering a head or two above everyone else, robust and imposing. His thick eyebrows framed a pair of large eyes, and one of his arms was as thick as another man’s thigh — powerful and strong, a man of extraordinary natural gifts.
“How have you progressed so quickly? You haven’t gone astray in your cultivation, have you?” Ye Fan couldn’t help but send a secret transmission.
“Ye Fan, it’s you…” Pang Bo was overjoyed, replying through a secret transmission.
By now, Ye Fan appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen years of age — refined and spirited, like an exiled immortal descended from beyond the dust of the world. Having consumed sacred medicines, he perpetually maintained a youthful appearance.
Fortunately, he no longer looked as he once did — perpetually fifteen or sixteen years old. He had finally grown a little older, a testament to the influence of the sacred medicines.
Ye Fan had entered Qin City having concealed his true appearance, not wanting to draw any trouble. He transmitted: “How have you advanced so quickly?”
Pang Bo was overjoyed but kept his face perfectly calm, betraying nothing, as he howled back through a secret transmission: “For the sake of cultivation, I threw caution to the wind. Over these past two years, I ate a large piece of the coffin plank.”
At these words, Ye Fan’s jaw nearly hit the ground. He hadn’t expected Pang Bo’s nature to still be this ferocious — he thought of something and did it, with absolutely no inhibitions.
He had seized half of the Undying Heavenly Emperor’s coffin and brought it out, ultimately giving all of it to Pang Bo — since he himself had the Bodhi Seed and had no use for it.
Pang Bo had given a piece to Li Heishui; the rest he had sat in meditation upon, and over these two years he had devoured an entire piece and thoroughly refined it.
“You really are something…” That was all Ye Fan could say. But after thinking it through, he wasn’t worried — because this was absolutely a supreme treasure and certainly safe to consume.
Before the most ancient of times, the Undying Heavenly Emperor had been revered by the ten thousand clans as an existence surpassing divinity itself — unmatched across all ages. He had struck down the Enlightenment Ancient Tree and refined it into his coffin. All of this was on a scale befitting a deity, something only he had ever done across all of history.
And what was the Enlightenment Ancient Tea Tree? It was an undying tree — the most rare and precious spiritual root between heaven and earth. Even the leaves it produced could be used to comprehend the Great Dao, imprinted with the marks of the Dao. How much more so its main trunk!
“Damn it, I’ve brought divine retribution upon myself. I ate a piece of coffin plank, and these past two years I’ve been struck by heavenly lightning more times than I can count!” Pang Bo was thoroughly indignant.
Ye Fan was nearly speechless. His brother was simply too savage — he had eaten his way into a Heavenly Tribulation. It more than demonstrated the marvel of the Enlightenment Ancient Tea Tree; within it were countless fragments of the Great Dao.
“As long as your cultivation has advanced, it was worth it.”
“Exactly — that’s what I thought too. I’ve even kept a large piece aside for you. When the time comes, we’ll eat it together.” Pang Bo said with a laugh.
“Forget it. I don’t need it. You… go ahead and eat the rest as well.” Ye Fan wanted to laugh but couldn’t let it show.
“Last time, that blind old man cursed me out thoroughly, scolding me for wasting a precious treasure — saying how could anyone eat an undying tree like this, that it could be passed down to flourish an entire great sect.” Pang Bo said.
The blind old man had taken his Heaven-Devouring Demon Jar and paid several visits to the House of Extraordinary Talents to back up the little bandit gang. Only through this had he kept Wang Chong and the others wary enough not to truly make a move.
“What are you spacing out for — scared stiff?” someone mocked from nearby. Ye Fan had gone a long time without responding, and no one knew what he was thinking.
“I have no desire to make things difficult for you. Come forward, bow deeply in apology, and I will let this matter pass.” Wang Chong spoke up.
“Little brat — go cool off somewhere else.” Ye Fan ended his secret transmission with Pang Bo and walked alone toward the dozen or so Holy Son-level figures.
“You are far too arrogant. Do you know who these people are? Have you truly put no one here in your eyes?” The Holy Son of the Yin-Yang Sect fanned the flames, hoping Wang Chong and the others would all strike together.
“The Yin-Yang Sect truly never learns its lesson — always selecting Holy Sons. Haven’t you already become enough of a laughingstock? Do you really intend to choose a fourth one?” Ye Fan said with utter casualness.
“You… deserve death!” The Holy Son’s face darkened. “That Holy Physique — he won’t live long. There’s no way he can hide like a turtle his entire life without ever daring to show his face.”
“Switching them out over and over is such a bother. I think your Yin-Yang Sect has no need for a Holy Son.” Ye Fan said — and then in a single step, he was right before the man, reaching out one large hand and slapping it downward.
Everyone was startled. He moved through the crowd as if there was no one there, impossible to guard against. His speed was too fast — a single crystalline palm descended like jade.
The Holy Son of the Yin-Yang Sect had nowhere to dodge. He raised both hands to meet the blow. In the air, the translucent palm and fingers flowed with the markings of the Dao, one rune after another flickering — the power of the Dao itself.
A light crack rang out. The Holy Son’s two hands, as though made of paper, broke apart inch by inch. Then his entire body crumpled, and the great hand pressed down — he had no strength to resist.
Splat.
The Holy Son of the Yin-Yang Sect didn’t even manage to cry out. The palm came crashing down upon his head, pressing him directly into a paste of flesh — his very bones dissolved, leaving nothing recognizable as human.
Everyone nearby recoiled rapidly, breaking into a cold sweat. That had been the Holy Son of the Yin-Yang Sect — slapped to death with a single palm. It was utterly terrifying.
The scene erupted into chaos. Li Heishui and the others were naturally delighted; the other side grew deeply unsettled. Even Wang Chong involuntarily stepped back, his heart filled with fear.
When the uproar subsided, everyone knew the Yin-Yang Sect was surely going to go mad. In just a few short years, three consecutive Holy Sons had died. It was a complete disgrace — certain to become the laughingstock of the Central Continent.
“Ye Fan, you really are too ruthless. The Yin-Yang Sect’s old sect leader is nearly at the end of his lifespan. Even if he doesn’t die on his own, you’ll anger him to death.” Pang Bo snickered through a secret transmission.
“They’ve always wanted to make trouble for me — they’d be happy to eliminate me on the spot. I have no choice. I’ll make sure they never dare select a Holy Son again.” Ye Fan said with a laugh.
Then, step by step, he walked forward, bearing down on Wang Chong and his group. The dozen or so Holy Son-level figures all retreated together. Not one dared to challenge him — every last one of them was afraid.
In years past, Wang Teng had personally suppressed the little prodigy. Now that he had come out of seclusion, though he remained arrogant as ever, he was far stronger than two years ago — no one dared speak harshly now.
There were many cultivators in Qin City, and everyone was astonished. None had expected that a single youth would force back more than a dozen exceptional talents from the Five Great Regions — not one of them daring to raise a hand.
“Don’t push things too far.” Wang Chong gritted his teeth.
Ye Fan remained unmoved. He thrust out a palm — like a raging wind sweeping away fallen leaves — and all dozen or so figures spat mouthfuls of blood and were sent flying.
Only Wang Chong emerged unscathed; two powerful ancient creatures had shielded him from behind. One appeared as if cast from solid gold, standing a full ten feet tall; the other appeared as if forged from pure silver — both extraordinarily fierce.
In the end, the battle went no further. Across the sky, a golden ancient war chariot appeared, and Wang Teng, like the Emperor of Heaven setting out on a journey, charged deep into the Qinling Mountains.
“Our master has received an urgent report — a major lead. We’re moving!” The two ancient creatures took Wang Chong and departed swiftly.
“Could it be that Wang Teng has learned of the place we discovered?” Pang Bo cried out in alarm.
“Oh no — we need to go, we can’t let someone beat us to it! Besides, the things we need are nearly all prepared. Let’s hurry back.” Ji Ziyue called out.
“What did you find?” Ye Fan asked in surprise.
“We saw the imprint of a monk, and a marking left by someone riding a bull — both pointing toward a lake that is nearly dry.” Pang Bo said.
“What?!” Ye Fan cried out in shock.
Ye Fan sent a secret transmission, revealing his true identity to Li Heishui and the others. The group was overjoyed — nearly crying out — and greeted him with the warmth of old friends reunited after a long separation.
Not long after, they departed Qin City and ventured deep into the Qinling Mountains — stretching over a million li — heading toward the mysterious place Ji Haoyue, Pang Bo, and Li Heishui had discovered.
It had to be said: Ji Ziyue’s spiritual perception was remarkably sharp. In less than half a quarter of an hour, she wrinkled her delicate nose and ground her sparkling little canine teeth — then she seized Ye Fan and said: “It’s you. Why were you hiding — do you think of us as outsiders? I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”
Ye Fan revealed his true appearance and pinched her delicate nose with a laugh. “I was afraid the adults of your family would chase after me and beat me up.”
“You dare pinch my nose…” Ji Ziyue ground her gleaming silver teeth, her large black-gemstone eyes blinking, and seized Ye Fan’s ear.
“Let go.” Ye Fan pinched her delicate nose.
On the other side, Ji Haoyue — the Eastern Wasteland Divine King — wore a dark expression. He wanted to say something, and even more wanted to shove Ye Fan aside. Unable to restrain himself, he strode over with large steps.
“It’s your sister who’s grabbing my ear — I haven’t hurt her. Hurry up and make her let go.” Ye Fan spoke first.
“Take your hand off my sister’s nose.” Ji Haoyue said, his face dark.
“Ji Haoyue, I saved your life once. Show a little respect to your savior.” Ye Fan muttered.
“That’s an entirely separate matter.” Ji Haoyue was normally quite composed, but at this moment the veins on his forehead were visibly throbbing.
Ji Ziyue’s large eyes curved into crescent moons as she laughed without stopping. She gave Ye Fan’s ear a few tugs, then floated lightly away.
Pang Bo, Li Heishui, and the others all burst out laughing too, snickering with ill-concealed amusement. Only Ji Haoyue and Ye Fan were left glaring at each other.
Before long, they crossed through the void and ventured deep into the Qinling Mountains, arriving at a forest of stone pillars. There, at a dried-up lake, they found upon a great boulder the imprint of a monk — and on the other side, an image of an elder riding a green ox.
“If nothing is amiss, this must be Shakyamuni — and the other, the elder who rode a green ox westward, must be Laozi. The purple qi came from the east, and even the stone walls are suffused with purple qi!” Ye Fan was moved deeply.
“This…” Pang Bo was shaken. Only he and Ye Fan truly understood what those two names meant.
Ancient figures from two thousand five hundred years ago, appearing here on this side of the starry cosmos — what destination had they been traveling toward along the ancient stellar road?
“Laozi departed westward through the Hangu Pass. From ancient times he vanished from China — yet it seems he once passed through this very place…” Pang Bo found it difficult to believe. Laozi’s “journey westward” had truly been an immeasurably distant road!
“Could this place be the Immortal Ascension Pool?” Ye Fan murmured to himself.
Chapter 632: The Ancient Road Through the Boundless Starry Sky
The stone forest was vast — each boulder a peculiar and unique shape, no two alike. Some resembled reclining oxen, others crouching tigers, still others coiling phoenixes.
Ahead, there was a small patch of water. It had once been a lake but had nearly dried up entirely. Could this be the Immortal Ascension Pool? Ye Fan wasn’t certain — it didn’t quite seem possible. How could an immortal pool run dry?
Shakyamuni’s imprint was clear and distinct — a face of compassion and solemn dignity, with the bearing of a great sage of wisdom, exuding an aura of benevolent grace.
“Some say he is the World-Honored One, others say he is not. The traitor may be connected to him — and there are those who say he is the demonic shell of the Buddha…”
He recalled the words of the little white-robed nun. Shakyamuni held a most unusual identity in this world, and the reasons were complex — something he had yet to fully understand.
On Earth, when speaking of Buddhism, one invariably spoke of Shakyamuni. Yet here, the situation was deeply ironic. The very founder had become a traitor — even a demon standing in opposition.
“One of the elders of our Ji Family, over a thousand years ago, met one of Shakyamuni’s ten great disciples — the Buddhist heir had just returned from across the sea.” Ji Ziyue murmured quietly.
Beyond the Five Great Regions lay an endless ocean, and within it, islands scattered like stars. Some said that within those vast waters there were divine islands, hiding peerless masters — even ancient emperors who had passed away in meditation, their names never heard of before.
Others said that in the ocean, far vaster than the Five Great Regions, there might be immortal islands, where divine beings had come into existence.
The main reason was that the sea beyond was simply too immense — boundless and without edge, far more expansive than the Five Great Regions as they stood today. No one had ever crossed the ocean to its end. People regarded it with deep awe and reverence.
“One of Shakyamuni’s ten great disciples, returning from across the sea…” Something stirred in Ye Fan’s heart. He thought of An Miaoyi’s words — wasn’t this exactly what she had said when she gave him the essence of the Nirvana Scripture?
“What was that person’s cultivation like?” Pang Bo asked.
“Immeasurable and unfathomable. At the time, one of our Supreme Elders stood before him and could not see through his depth at all — it was like facing a boundless abyss.” Ji Ziyue said. This was something she had only recently learned.
“The great Shakyamuni — known as the Buddha Patriarch in another world — yet here he is branded a great traitor. What a bitter irony.” Pang Bo shook his head.
Ye Fan reflected on this, thinking of the Buddhism of his homeland. Though it was said to have been founded by Shakyamuni, Buddhist practitioners had existed long before him — one might say he did not so much create it as greatly expand and illuminate it.
In certain ancient scriptures, it was recorded that when Shakyamuni traveled and witnessed Buddhist practitioners harming their bodies in ascetic practice, he judged this not to be the true path. From that realization, the Dharma of the Thus-Come-One was born.
Ye Fan gradually formed a bold conjecture. Earth had a lost span of history. Setting aside the most mysterious ancient China, even ancient India had a remarkable past.
If Buddhism had predated Shakyamuni — existing before him — might there have been an even earlier Buddhist sage of great wisdom who had, through the stellar gates left by the ancients, first crossed to the other shore?
If so, there was so much more to imagine — so many veils of mystery, each corner beginning to lift.
In that instant, Ye Fan’s thoughts turned to the word “other shore.” In Buddhism, this was an extraordinary term.
“Earth truly lost a span of history — an age that was wiped from memory. Perhaps that era was immeasurably long, not something as simple as a few thousand years.”
Of course, there was another possibility: that people from this world had once traveled along the ancient stellar road to Earth, founded Buddhism there, and Shakyamuni in a later age had traced the origins back to this place.
Ye Fan’s thoughts multiplied. The ancient stellar road, reaching across boundless distances, was surely not built by people from just one or two ancient stars — it spanned many stellar regions. Where had the ancients’ road been leading?
“Look here — the imprints he left behind are quite deliberate. They are composed of barely visible, strange and minute characters.” Li Heishui said.
Everyone gathered around, all inwardly astonished. The many tiny characters were densely packed — even activating one’s divine sight made them difficult to discern; they were simply too minuscule. Together, they combined to form a human figure.
“It’s Sanskrit!” Pang Bo said. He and Ye Fan looked at each other — this was the script of ancient India, and neither of them could recognize a single character.
“That explains it. He left imprints on the Sacred Cliff as well, and here too there is Sanskrit — a record in written characters, left for those who come after.” Ye Fan said, deep in thought.
Last time, he had been too careless and had not examined the imprint on the Sacred Cliff closely enough — yet it too had been composed of countless tiny characters. This was clearly meant to be read by those who came from ancient India.
“Did they anticipate that people in later ages would follow in their footsteps? They left directions — but where have they gone now?”
Ye Fan and Pang Bo crouched there together, eyes wide, hearts scratching with desperate curiosity. These were characters left behind by the Thus-Come-One himself — most likely containing the secrets of the stellar cosmos — yet neither of them could read a single word.
“Why did it have to be Sanskrit?!” Both of them were at a loss for words, left only to cry out at the heavens.
In that distant past, Earth had produced not just one Buddha. At the very least, within the same generation, there had been another ancient being of supreme wisdom.
Two thousand five hundred years ago, in ancient China, a hundred schools of thought contended and the great sages emerged in succession — each one dazzling beyond measure, every name resounding through the ages, leaving marks upon the sky of history that could never be erased.
Setting aside all others, Laozi alone could stand as a match for the Buddha. Shakyamuni was a divine being — possessed of great supernatural power and supreme wisdom. There was no question that Laozi, endowed with the same great wisdom, was likewise such a being — both human and divine at once.
They rose quickly and, with urgent steps, moved to stand before the second imprint: an elder riding a green ox, departing leisurely westward — perfectly composed, utterly serene, in perfect harmony with the principle of non-action.
Sure enough, it too was composed of tiny inscribed characters — gathered together to form this image of a sage borne westward on a green ox, likewise left as guidance and explanation for those who would come after.
These two ancient sages would surely not have left random imprints without purpose. Most likely they had known more would follow in their wake, and so had recorded the roads they had walked.
“Quick — let’s see what they wrote.” Pang Bo urged. He couldn’t recognize a single character.
Ye Fan, though he had some knowledge of ancient Chinese script, found himself frowning deeply. Some characters were in the Bronze Inscriptions style, and a portion were actually in Oracle Bone Script.
Even setting aside his own limitations — even the most devoted scholars of ancient script on Earth could not read every character of these two writing systems in full; neither had been completely deciphered there.
“Departed westward through the Hangu Pass…” He managed to make out only this one continuous phrase. Beyond that, a few isolated characters and words emerged from the gaps — “Great Emperor,” “Ancient Road,” “Region,” “Immortal,” “Purple Tenuity Ancient Star,” “Hook-Chen” — but they were all disconnected, broken apart from one another.
“This old man is simply on another level entirely. He departed westward through the Hangu Pass and somehow ended up venturing into the stellar regions.” Pang Bo was thoroughly stunned.
In the ancient texts it was recorded: “When Laozi journeyed westward, the gate-keeper Yin Xi beheld purple qi floating above the pass — and indeed, Laozi arrived riding a green ox.”
Laozi’s last known appearance in ancient China was at the Hangu Pass: the purple qi came from the east, he left behind his five-thousand-word Tao Te Ching as recorded by Yin Xi — and from that moment forward, he was never seen again in the world of men.
Ye Fan too fell into a long sigh. On the other side of the starry cosmos, he had never thought about Laozi in this way — only ever seeing him as an ancient man of great wisdom. Now, he could not help but acknowledge it: Laozi had been a cultivator, one who had entered the starry cosmos and crossed to the other shore.
Shakyamuni and Laozi had lived in nearly the same age — both figures of two thousand five hundred years ago. Was this a coincidence?
“They followed the stellar gates left behind by the ancients and walked toward the stars…” Ye Fan murmured.
More than two thousand years ago, the great sages of Earth emerged one after another — nearly all within the same era, with no great difference in time between them. Was this mere coincidence, or was there some deeper pattern at work?
This world had Buddhism — but not the Buddhism of Shakyamuni. That worshippers here revered Amitabha was something that could still be understood, for that teaching existed on Earth as well.
And yet this world also had Daoism — but not the Daoism of Laozi. Its origins were nearly impossible to trace.
“Who founded Daoism?” Ye Fan couldn’t help but ask.
“It’s far too complex. The great Daoist masters have always been like drifting clouds and wild cranes — they left behind teachings and esoteric arts, but unlike Buddhism, they never formed a unified whole. It’s scattered and loose, with no clear source to be found.” Ji Haoyue shook his head.
Regarding Daoism — not just in this world, but even on the other side of the stellar cosmos — it was difficult to say with certainty when it had begun.
To speak of Daoism, one inevitably spoke of the teachings attributed to the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. And to speak of the Yellow Emperor was to push the timeline back even further.
Laozi was a figure of two thousand five hundred years ago; the “Yellow Emperor” in those attributed teachings was a figure from four thousand — nearly five thousand — years ago.
The Daoism named by later generations could in truth be traced back infinitely. Within the long river of history, its beginning was nearly impossible to find.
Laozi had left very few traces in this world. If he had traveled onward along the ancient stellar road, where had he gone?
The stellar gates left behind by the ancients led toward some boundlessly distant and unknown destination. Where did they end? Ye Fan did not know — though at the very least, he felt this world was not the final stop. There were more ancient stars ahead.
Within the ancient bronze coffin, there had been an engraved image. He and Pang Bo had both seen it with their own eyes: a magnificent starry sky, in which Earth and the Northern Dipper were only one small corner — and before them lay a far more expansive road onward.
“Two thousand five hundred years ago, the great sages emerged in a great flourishing — an age of extraordinary brilliance…” Ye Fan murmured within his heart.
Since Laozi and the Buddha were both near-divine in nature, how could the other dazzlingly brilliant figures of that same era have been ordinary mortals?
But what a pity — it had all resembled the final burst of fireworks. After that, the divine beings gradually departed, and though some still appeared, they were fashioned by human will alone.
“Could it be that two thousand five hundred years ago, the last generation of ancient sages on Earth made a decision together — to leave their homeland behind and journey onward along the ancient stellar road?”
In ancient China, the cosmic map of Purple Tenuity, the Four Symbols, the Twenty-Eight Stellar Regions and so forth formed a vast celestial chart. Had the ancient stellar road blazed by the ancients passed through each of these in turn? And where did it ultimately lead?
Far more ancient than Laozi, the seventy-two kings of remote antiquity had performed the Great Sacrifice at Mount Tai. Had they gone even earlier into the stellar regions — had they long since reached the far end of the starry cosmos?
“The people of high antiquity, their years all reaching past a hundred, yet their vitality undiminished…” The “high antiquity” of which the Yellow Emperor had spoken — how many ages ago had that truly been?
To people of today, the Yellow Emperor was already an ancient emperor of four or five thousand years past — counted as high antiquity. Then what kind of era had it been that even he marveled at, calling it “high antiquity”?
How much had ancient China buried — how many forgotten events lay sealed? There might well be a vast and immeasurable ancient history entombed within the years, waiting for the day it would finally be revealed.
Ye Fan fell into deep reflection, his thoughts drifting far and wide in reverie without limit. In this vast stellar cosmos, how many ancient stars harbored life?
Could the star names of ancient China — those constellations and stellar regions — be a form of enlightenment? Could they represent a meaning far more profound and important?
Earth, Mars, the Purple Tenuity Star… one ancient star after another. Where was the origin, and where was the end?
What was the true meaning of this ancient road? Where was it trying to connect — what kind of place did it lead to?
The Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin — was it returning home after falling in battle, or wandering aimlessly without destination?
The Five-Colored Altar, the Nine Dragons crossing the dark and frozen vault of heaven — with no known origin and no road ahead — whom had it been carrying? And would it ever set sail again one day?
Chapter 633: The Land of Immortal Ascension
Ye Fan’s head throbbed. The boundless stellar cosmos — one ancient star after another — where did the ancient road lead?
He and Pang Bo looked at each other, having thought far too many thoughts. This ancient star was surely not the final destination — it was very likely only a “waystation” along the road.
To advance, to return home — the only path was to transcend this place. One could only grow ever stronger to leave this world behind; otherwise, they were no different from birds trapped in a cage.
The vast universe, the boundless starry sky — how many secrets did it hold? The pre-Qin cultivators had left Earth and walked toward — where?
“Sigh, stop thinking so much. We never planned to go mingle with those ancient sages anyway. Getting home — that’s the right path.” Pang Bo said with a sigh.
For now, even entertaining such thoughts was useless. To enter the stellar regions, one would at the very least need to stand on equal footing with the Remote Antiquity Saints — otherwise, the only option was to rely on the Five-Colored Altar.
“There may be other stellar gates as well — not necessarily only that one altar in the Desolate Ancient Forbidden Zone. To get home, we need to learn more about this world.” Ye Fan transmitted secretly.
Ji Haoyue employed the Divine Art of Heavenly Evolution to calculate and examine both imprints carefully, yet gained nothing from it. This was the unique gift of the Divine Physique, immensely useful in battle.
In the end, they left the place and walked onward. The dried-up lake had mist rising from it — it appeared close, yet was difficult to approach.
“That’s strange.” Ye Fan’s expression shifted.
“We’ve already been here once before, but couldn’t get through. We specifically prepared some materials — formation patterns capable of breaking through illusions — hoping to try and force a way in.” Li Heishui said.
Jiang Huairen, Wu Zhongtian, Liu Kou, and the others made their move, offering up stellar stones and withered dragon wood, placing them at the front of the stone forest and casting them into the lake.
The misty waters swirled, showing no sign of weakening. As the group drew closer, the mist grew only denser. The dried lake — now little more than a puddle — gradually rose into a great fog that swallowed the entire stone forest.
“It’s no use. Same as last time — there’s no way through.” Pang Bo frowned.
The mist was heavy, and quickly engulfed the entire area, causing everyone to lose their bearings entirely — unable to tell east from west, north from south. They had no choice but to retreat. This place was deeply strange.
They caught a lone wolf and drove it into the mist — in nearly an instant, it dissolved. The creature simply vanished from the world, not even bone or flesh remaining. It was deeply unsettling.
“This place is truly bizarre…” They offered up treasured artifacts, which soon also made cracking sounds — destroyed within the mist.
“Could this truly be the Immortal Ascension Pool?” Ye Fan’s heart leapt at the thought. If it was indeed an immortal pool, there would be extraordinary fortune to be gained!
It had already dried up, reduced to a small puddle. If there were any immortal treasures, they would be easy to spot and seize.
“Shakyamuni and Laozi both passed through here — this really might be the immortal pool of the Qinling Mountains, the birthplace of the Azure Emperor.” Pang Bo rubbed his hands together eagerly.
“From the most ancient of times, no one knows how many divine objects have sunk into the immortal pool. It is said there are fragments of shattered supreme imperial weapons, and immortal treasures.” Ji Ziyue knew a great deal. The black pupils of her eyes shimmered with perceptive light.
“Everyone hold still — let me look carefully.” Ye Fan stepped back and observed the surrounding terrain from outside the mist.
The stone forest spread in all directions; sheer cliffs soared into the sky. Near the dried lake, green vegetation was sparse, yet the mountain peaks surrounding it thrummed with vitality.
“This place is truly extraordinary. The more I look at it, the more familiar it seems…” He murmured.
No one disturbed him, for everyone knew he had inherited the transmission of the Source Heavenly Master — his study of mountains, rivers, and terrain was of unparalleled authority.
“This is — a Land of Immortal Ascension!” Ye Fan’s heart shook violently. This matched the descriptions in the Source Heavenly Book almost exactly — a terrain that connected to a place of profound and wondrous mystery.
The others were all startled. From the name alone, it was clear this was no ordinary land — surely something extraordinarily divine, most likely in close proximity to the Immortal Ascension Pool.
“As the name suggests, this is a place of the rarest sort in all the world — a terrain that connects to an immortal land. The path through it is treacherous, and there will be great danger along the way.”
Though it was recorded in the Source Heavenly Book, the Land of Immortal Ascension existed only in legend — never actually witnessed. Even a few Source Heavenly Masters had not been fortunate enough to see it for themselves, only theorizing that such terrain must exist.
That such a path existed here in the Qinling Mountains left no doubt — it pointed toward the Immortal Ascension Pool. The so-called “immortal ascension road” surely originated from that very place.
“Is it easy to get through?” Jiang Huairen asked, full of hope.
“Nine deaths and one survival — the equivalent of charging through a death gate. It is very difficult to pass.” Ye Fan said. Compared to the various deadly grounds of the Eastern Wasteland, this was no less fearsome.
“Then… are we just supposed to stand here and stare? There may be an Immortal Ascension Pool ahead — and since the most ancient of times, who knows how many fragments of immortal treasures have sunk into it.”
A Land of Immortal Ascension — from the name alone, one could tell it was a terrifying place that cut off all paths forward. If anyone could simply pass through it, everyone would have ascended long ago — what would make it an “immortal land” at all?
“It can be attempted. Since it has revealed itself on its own, the danger should be greatly reduced. There’s a reasonable chance of success.”
The Land of Immortal Ascension was normally completely invisible — concealed in the void year-round. Only someone who had cultivated the Heavenly Eye could perceive it, and even then with great difficulty. It was nearly impossible to find.
Once every ten thousand years or so, it might reappear in the mortal world — taking physical form — and only then could traces of it be caught and glimpsed by people of the world.
Ye Fan finally understood why the Immortal Ascension Pool had been findable by no one — it manifested once in ten thousand years, existing in the void, belonging not to the mortal realm at all. An immortal land in the truest sense.
“It’s almost as if it descends from an entirely separate world!”
This was also an opportunity. In normal circumstances, even if one caught a glimpse of it by chance through the Heavenly Eye, there would be no way in — nine deaths and one survival. But when it descended of its own accord, its danger was infinitely weakened — not nearly so terrifying. For one with skilled enough methods, it would be possible to pass through.
“Carrying a weapon of a Remote Antiquity Saint to clear the path — that should allow entry.” Ye Fan said.
“There’s truly no other way?” Pang Bo was deeply reluctant.
“Brother, go and tell the Clan Head — he will certainly be able to summon a Saint weapon.” Ji Ziyue blinked her large eyes at Ji Haoyue.
“Weren’t we already agreed? Whatever we find here, we split it evenly. If you bring in those old elders from your clan, we’ll go invite our senior grandfather bandits as well.” Li Heishui said.
If the Ji Family was alerted, the little bandit group would certainly have to run. Even if they invited their own grandfathers, they’d need to come with the Heaven-Devouring Demon Jar in hand.
“Don’t be hasty — let me try to open a passage.” Ye Fan said.
Following the records in the Source Heavenly Book, he observed the surrounding mountain terrain and felt the pulse of this world, continuously deducing and calculating — carving countless Source Heavenly patterns into the ground.
After a long while, Ye Fan stood and walked step by step toward the dried lake. Beneath his feet, Source Heavenly patterns emerged of their own accord, shimmering like a field of stellar regions in motion.
“Ye Fan, are you sure about this? If you’re not, let’s just not go!” Pang Bo called out, trying to dissuade him, afraid he might come to harm.
“Relax — I’m only probing. I absolutely will not let myself fall into danger.” Ye Fan smiled.
“Be careful, and please don’t try to be brave.” Ji Ziyue murmured softly, wrinkling her charming nose and waving one small snow-white hand.
“Little Ye Fan, be very careful!” Li Heishui and the others called out in reminder.
Before long, Ye Fan’s voice carried back from within the mist, telling the others to come in. His initial judgment was that the path was viable — and at worst, they could still retreat.
Pang Bo, Ji Ziyue, and the others entered the mist. It was like standing on clouds — they looked around at their surroundings. The fog was exceedingly dense; two people standing face to face could barely make each other out. It was eerie and disquieting, leaving everyone with a persistent sense of unease.
Beneath Ye Fan’s feet, the Source Heavenly patterns flickered — intricate and profound — pulsing in harmony with the earth itself, drawing out the paths and secrets he sought to know.
The others followed close behind him, advancing one step at a time through the deep and shallow footing, hearts tense yet excited. After all, they were drawing nearer to the legendary Immortal Ascension Pool.
The birthplace of the Azure Emperor, the place where the green bronze fragment had been submerged — what else lay within? No one could say for certain, and that very mystery filled everyone with boundless anticipation.
“Do not stray from me — stay within ten zhang at all times. Otherwise, even a great master who takes a wrong step will be dissolved into a pool of blood and pus.” Ye Fan gave a solemn warning.
“That frightening?” Jiang Huairen muttered nervously. Even a great master could be dissolved — his legs were going weak.
“Something’s off. We’ve entered the dried lake — but why is there no water at all? Why does it feel like we’re walking through mountain terrain?” Wu Zhongtian grew suspicious.
Ye Fan said: “Almost everything we see here is illusory — not real. Without cultivating the Heavenly Eye, it is nearly impossible to see through it.”
They moved with the utmost caution, following close behind Ye Fan, nearly stepping in his exact footprints. After advancing for more than half a quarter of an hour and traveling a considerable distance, the mist grew even denser.
Then, suddenly, something felt wrong — everyone sensed it, though none could say precisely what. The entire journey had been far too quiet, and a strange, uncanny feeling now crept over them.
“Something’s wrong — there’s an extra person among us!” Pang Bo’s hair stood on end.
At those words, everyone’s heart lurched. There should have been only eight of them — yet now there were nine. Someone, or something, had fallen in among them, moving forward alongside the group.
The mist was too thick. Even standing very close, one could not see clearly. A human-shaped creature stood among them, and no one could tell which figure didn’t belong.
In that moment, everyone’s scalp prickled. An extra person had appeared — truly not a good omen. Faintly, they caught the scent of something rotting and decayed.
“Hmph!”
Ji Haoyue let out a cold snort. From between his fingers, a string of blood droplets shot forth — like a rainbow lighting up the great mist, piercing straight through.
A sound like the wailing of a vengeful ghost rang out — the human-shaped creature in the mist was struck through, staggered, and fled in an instant, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Yet that terrible sound continued to echo, sending chills through everyone — like a thousand-year grudge-bearing specter casting a curse, cold and full of venomous hatred.
“That creature was extraordinarily powerful — not weaker than someone at the first level of the Immortal Platform. And yet Brother Haoyue repelled it with a mere flick of his finger.” Ye Fan said, astonished.
“Divine blood counters evil — it’s simply a matter of mutual restraint. That was a rotting corpse. In truth, the holy blood within your own body can do the same — it could burn such a creature to ash.” Ji Haoyue said.
Ji Ziyue was remarkably perceptive. Her dark gleaming eyes shifted as she murmured quietly: “I feel like we’re not entering an immortal pool at all. Why else would there be a death spirit like that?”
“On the road through a Land of Immortal Ascension, encountering things like this is not unusual.” Ye Fan explained.
Half an hour later, they walked out of the mist region. Ahead, the evening clouds blazed like blood, staining the sky — and mingled with them was a faint, shimmering golden radiance.
“What is this place? When we looked at the terrain from outside, there was no landscape like this.” Li Heishui frowned.
“This is the true appearance of this place. Everything seen before was illusory.” Ye Fan said.
The terrain here was extraordinary — mountains soaring and majestic, valleys broad and open, dragon qi coiling around the peaks. The eye took in a sweeping, magnificent view, the scenery vast and breathtaking.
Bang!
The ground ahead cracked open. A rotted wooden coffin — nearly completely decayed — split apart, and a large hand covered in red fur reached out, climbing free.
“What kind of place is this? Is this truly a Land of Immortal Ascension? Why is there another death spirit — this really is starting to feel like a burial ground.” Jiang Huairen’s hair was standing on end.
It was an enormous corpse. In the blood-red light of the setting sun, it was deeply unsettling — eyes glassy and vacant, it bore down on the group.
Ye Fan flicked his finger. Eight or nine golden blood droplets flew out and landed on its body. With a sizzling sound, golden flames erupted — the creature shrieked and fled in terror.
In the distance, a dozen or so silver-winged yaksha demons hovered. Their entire bodies gleamed like cast silver, flashing a metallic luster — yet not one dared draw near. They stared fixedly at Ye Fan with unblinking eyes.
Before long, a great mountain rose before them — and upon its summit lay a pool of water, shimmering in the sunset, flowing with dreamlike radiance.
“The immortal pool — it must be the Immortal Ascension Pool!” Everyone was deeply moved.
“Wait — look there, something else.” Pang Bo pointed toward another direction.
Beside it stood another great peak. On its face was an ancient cave, exhaling and drawing in dragon qi, stirring the hearts of all who beheld it. On either side of the cave entrance grew two banana trees — so ancient that no one could guess how many tens of thousands of years they had stood — shimmering with a green radiance.
“The Eternal Dragon Lair of the Qinling Mountains!” Ye Fan’s heart trembled. The Source Heavenly Master of the Third Generation might well be entombed within.
Chapter 634: Crossing the Heaven’s Gorge
The Immortal Ascension Pool and the Eternal Dragon Lair appeared side by side, not far from each other — a fact that astonished everyone present. Two sacred places that the world had long yearned for were located in the very same spot.
“No wonder they always appeared in succession. It turns out they are both within the Land of Immortal Ascension — this is nearly the legendary dual cave of Yin and Yang!”
Not only Ye Fan, who had made a deep study of the Source Arts — even the others could perceive something extraordinary. This was a naturally formed sacred ground of Yin and Yang.
The Immortal Ascension Pool sat atop a great mountain’s summit — vast and open, with visible stretches of water, radiant with flowing light and shimmering with brilliant hues, suffused with the glow of rosy clouds surging forth. The yang energy there was immensely heavy, washing over everything like a celestial fire.
On the other side, that great mountain with the ancient cave at its base exhaled and drew in dragon qi. Though sacred, a current of supreme yin energy flowed through it.
“The Eternal Dragon Lair of the Qinling Mountains is moving!”
Everyone was astonished. The great mountain where the dragon lair resided was not stationary — it was shifting at a pace invisible to ordinary eyes, in a most peculiar manner.
“We actually found the Immortal Ascension Pool, and witnessed the first ancient lair of the Qinling Mountains. This is almost beyond belief!” The feeling was so surreal that it nearly took their breath away — this was a heaven-sent fortune of staggering magnitude.
At this moment, Ye Fan’s brow furrowed. Though the distance was only a dozen or so li away, every step forward would be fraught with lethal danger — approaching it would be far from easy.
“This is hard to cross — like a Heaven’s Gorge. It is a deadly path that cannot be surpassed.” He gave each of them a grave warning: do not act recklessly, do not advance.
Though the Land of Immortal Ascension had weakened without limit, this final stretch of road was utterly terrifying — harder than ascending to the heavens itself. It was called “Crossing the Heaven’s Gorge.”
“A hundred li of deadly passes. Ninety li of immortal ascension road. Ten li of Heaven’s Gorge — and even saints cannot cross those final ten li!”
“Is it really that serious?” The others all felt a chill. Every single step was equivalent to charging through a death gate.
“More serious than I’ve described. The Heaven’s Gorge can also be called the Immortal-Barred Passage — it is something human power can barely overcome, and is one of the most terrifying terrains in the entire world.” Ye Fan said gravely.
He had not anticipated that this final ten li would be so absolutely unconquerable — an “Immortal-Barred Passage.” Such terrain had never been seen across all of history and the present day, yet here and now, it had appeared.
“What do we do?” They had arrived at the most ancient dragon lair in the Central Continent, yet could not approach it — everyone was deeply unwilling to accept this.
Ye Fan said: “For now, the only choice is to wait patiently. The Immortal Ascension Pool and the ancient lair have not yet truly descended into the world. Given a few more days, the ‘Immortal-Barred Passage’ will most likely become crossable.”
The ninety li of immortal ascension road, in normal times, was an absolute death trap — even a Sacred Sovereign would meet their end there. It could cut off all the heroes of the world.
Now, it was only because the Immortal Ascension Pool had descended of its own accord and manifested in the mortal world that all the dangers had been infinitely reduced — nearly eliminated — allowing them to reach this point.
The final ten li of “Heaven’s Gorge” had not been weakened. Even if a perfected king-realm cultivator came, any single step forward would be a dead end.
A dozen or so silver-winged yakshas flew past, crying out shrilly before disappearing at the horizon. On the other side, several ancient corpses sat on rocky ledges, exhaling and absorbing the last light of the setting sun — strangely, uncannily, beyond all words.
“This place is truly ominous. It’s incomparably sacred, and yet it’s filled with so many death spirits.”
Across the land, the evening light stained all things crimson. From time to time, human-shaped creatures appeared — but they were absolutely not human. Many of them exuded an aura of cold death.
“The Qinling Mountains have many ancient tombs beneath the earth. Some of the remote-era corpses have extraordinary origins. A few of them have gained spiritual awareness — finding their way to a place like this is not surprising at all.”
“In that case, the Eternal Dragon Lair truly has a creature entombed within it. After so many years of being nourished, who could possibly deal with it?”
Suddenly, a great commotion broke out at the horizon. Silver-winged yakshas, flying vengeful ghosts, and the like all recoiled in terror — like a stampede of ten thousand beasts fleeing before a king.
“Something’s wrong — like a beast king emerging, sending every creature into flight.”
From the horizon came a thunderous boom. A tall old man appeared — his hair like dry yellow grass — walking step by step toward them.
He was well over two and a half meters, towering far above an ordinary person, his frame massive and his strength immense. Every step he took made the earth tremble.
“This person’s physical body is almost beyond terrifying. How heavy must he be — moving like an entire mountain walking toward us?”
As he drew near, this old man with scorched yellow hair and eyes like golden orbs pressed upon them like a wall of mountain — an overwhelming weight that left everyone struggling to breathe.
“This is a supreme ancient Emperor-Sovereign of the Nine Li!” Everyone was startled.
He had long since passed from the world. The Emperor-Sovereign divine robe he wore had rotted away, though faint traces of the Nine Li Divine Dynasty’s markings could still be made out — dilapidated beyond measure.
“That is a King-Sovereign divine robe — ranked alongside King-Sovereign holy weapons — and it has completely rotted. How vast an age has this thing existed?” Wu Zhongtian’s pupils contracted sharply.
“At least forty thousand years or more. Otherwise, a King-Sovereign divine robe could not have decayed to this state.” Ji Haoyue said.
Everyone was on guard, though the one comforting thing was that this ancient corpse appeared to have only recently awakened to awareness. Its eyes were still somewhat glassy, its movements not yet fully fluid.
“His physical body is immensely powerful, but his capabilities are limited — he should be manageable.” Ye Fan inwardly felt fortunate. If this had been the golden-bodied old monk from that previous encounter, everyone present would likely have died.
“He’s coming at us!”
The imposing ancient Emperor-Sovereign — golden pupils carrying a layer of death qi — bore down on them in great strides, reaching out one enormous hand to seize them.
“Hsss!”
Ji Haoyue flicked his fingers. A string of five-colored blood droplets flew forth, striking the red-furred creature’s body. This was Divine King blood — imbued with a divine spiritual force capable of countering evil.
Yet the blood force was powerful but struck the ancient Emperor-Sovereign’s body with only dull thuds — unable to penetrate. It could not harm him, and was of no use.
“Terrible — this person in life must have been of inconceivable strength. He was a King Physique. Though he never reached full mastery, the divine blood is useless against him — for he himself possessed it!” Ji Haoyue said in alarm.
“What?!” Everyone was shocked. This was actually an ancient King Physique. The news was truly staggering.
Fortunately, this malevolent spirit had only recently awakened. It knew only how to absorb the essence of the sun and moon, and possessed as yet no fearsome techniques — its only strength being its extremely tough physical body.
Bang!
Wu Zhongtian, Li Heishui, and the others made their move simultaneously. Every kind of treasured artifact was brought to bear — yet none of it could move this supreme ancient Emperor-Sovereign in the slightest. Everything was repelled.
“A king-realm cultivator’s remains are this hard!”
Everyone present made their move. Several artifacts shattered, yet the King Physique did not suffer a single scratch — as indestructible as a body that defied all destruction.
“Let me!” Pang Bo stepped forward. He brought out several stone nails and drove them forward with a series of sharp sounds, instantly piercing through the ancient corpse. King-level blood — whose spiritual nature had not yet faded — came surging out.
Bang!
In the end, the ancient Emperor-Sovereign’s corpse toppled. Everyone felt relief that it had never fully awakened — still dazed and sluggish. If it had achieved true consciousness, everyone present would have been in grave danger.
“How extraordinary and mysterious those stone nails are!” Ji Haoyue was deeply astonished.
Those stone nails had a remarkable origin. They were the nails from the coffin crafted from the Enlightenment Ancient Tree — which Ye Fan had given to Pang Bo, who treasured them greatly.
Though they were merely coffin nails, this was an object tempered by a being whom the ten thousand clans of ancient antiquity had revered as transcending divinity itself. Within them resided an inconceivable power.
“The Undying Heavenly Emperor — truly of unimaginable strength. Even the nails of his coffin are this terrifying…”
In the half-month that followed, Ye Fan circled the Immortal Ascension Pool and the Dragon Lair and studied every detail carefully — drawing more Source Heavenly patterns than he could count.
He deduced through Source Arts, carving the earth so densely that it looked like an endless field of stars.
“I calculate that in another dozen or so days, this place will fully manifest in the mortal world — and the ‘Immortal-Barred Passage’ will become crossable.”
“Wonderful — in half a month, we’ll have a great harvest!”
“You must be careful. Even with this place manifesting of its own accord, there are only eight safe paths, one in each direction.” Ye Fan gave a grave reminder.
After so many days of calculation, Ye Fan’s heart had been in constant alarm. Those final ten li held world-ending lethal traps — any Emperor-Sovereign who entered would be dissolved into blood and pus.
“Memorize all of this carefully!” He drew a map on the ground, marking the eight paths that led to the central immortal pool and Dragon Lair.
Over the next dozen or so days, Ye Fan exhausted his mental strength, laying down endless Source Heavenly patterns that encompassed the entire terrain of this region.
“When this place truly manifests in the world, other powerful cultivators will certainly enter as well. All we can do is seize a head start.”
With only eight safe paths, and exactly eight of them in the group, they decided that each person would take one path — to claim the initiative ahead of those who would come after, competing for heaven’s fortune with those who followed.
“Sure enough — people are coming!”
Time passed swiftly. The mist across the ninety li of immortal ascension road dispersed entirely, and someone discovered this place. The news spread immediately.
Two more days passed, and then the final ten li of Heaven’s Gorge underwent a change — the lethal energy diminished, and passage became possible.
“Don’t move yet — wait half a day more!” Ye Fan held everyone back.
By this point, others had arrived at the location. Several rushed forward — and without even a sound of warning, they were dissolved completely on the spot.
“Move!”
Ye Fan judged the timing to be right. The eight of them set out at once, each choosing one of the safe paths and advancing with speed.
Every step each of them took had been carefully considered. Ye Fan had deduced and rehearsed these paths an untold number of times beforehand — every landing point was already memorized in detail.
“Oh no—”
On one path, Ji Ziyue cried out in alarm. On the adjacent path, Ji Haoyue tensed — then let out a long breath. It turned out the Ji Family Clan Head had arrived and followed his sister’s footsteps onto the path.
“Retreat immediately. Do not come in here — it is far too dangerous.” The Ji Family Clan Head said, pressing a fingertip to Ji Ziyue’s brow and imprinting a map of the path within.
“That old fox — he must have been here for a while already!” Ye Fan murmured to himself from another path.
“Clan Head, take me in with you.” Ji Ziyue pouted, tugging at the Clan Head’s sleeve and refusing to let go.
“Many people will die here today. Go back at once.” The Ji Family Clan Head swept his wide sleeves and flung her outward, landing her safely on a secure foothold.
Ji Ziyue wrinkled her delicate nose, turned on her heel, and ran — emerging from the path and heading toward the one Ye Fan was on, following him in.
In the distance, the masters of the Jiang Family, Yao Guang, and the Wind Clan’s great sacred grounds all appeared, bringing a considerable number of powerful cultivators with them. Among them was Ouyang Ye — someone who had come infinitely close to the realm of a Source Land Master.
On the other side, the hundred sects and schools of the Central Continent, the four Undying Divine Dynasties, and various sect leaders all materialized. Beside them, several dragon-vein geomancers followed in attendance.
The world was not without its remarkable individuals. After their own deductions, they had traced Ye Fan’s eight paths and followed in behind him — and many powerful cultivators entered.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!
Kasaya robes billowed. A group of elderly monks appeared. Several among them had multiple rings of Buddha-light appearing behind their heads — sacred halos encircling their bodies, an expression of sorrowful compassion on their faces, exuding the air of utterly supreme masters.
On the eastern path, a young man appeared, riding a golden ancient war chariot — heroic and imposing, black hair falling over his shoulders. Wang Teng had arrived.
He had cultivated the Martial Way Heavenly Eye. The pitch-black pupils of his eyes shot forth two beams of light. He locked his gaze on Jiang Huairen’s back, his entire body blazing with radiance as he charged in pursuit.
Bang!
The golden ancient war chariot grazed Jiang Huairen’s skull, nearly sending his hair flying in all directions, nearly drawing a loud outburst from him — yet seeing it was the Northern Emperor, he had no choice but to swallow his anger for now.
“You bastard, Wang Teng — do you really think you’re the Emperor of Heaven? You just wait and see.”
Atop the golden war chariot, Wang Chong stood beside his elder brother, glancing back with a cold, contemptuous sneer. “Once we’re inside, if I see any of you lot, get as far away from me as possible. That person who made trouble for us back in Qin City was definitely Ye Fan. Now that my brother has come in his true form — he’d better wash his neck and wait to be slaughtered.”
Chapter 635: The Emperor’s Bearing
The golden ancient war chariot rumbled forward — its surface scarred with blade marks and sword holes, like an ancient emperor’s chariot setting out on a grand procession, carrying an aura of domineering authority. Around it, true dragons and divine phoenixes rose together, their cries shaking the nine heavens, light surging skyward.
Jiang Huairen was furious to the point of being unable to speak. The golden ancient war chariot had charged straight through, sending him staggering with his hair in complete disarray, his skull nearly crushed under its wheels.
Even that little prodigy hadn’t bothered to spare him a glance — standing atop the chariot, looking down at him from above, speaking those words with such unbridled arrogance.
“Wait for me inside!” That was Wang Chong’s final word. The golden ancient war chariot was too fast — it vanished in a flash.
In the distance, on another path, Ye Fan’s eyes glimmered with shifting light. He murmured: “The Martial Way Heavenly Eye!”
Wang Teng had cultivated the Martial Way Heavenly Eye — something even more fearsome than his own Source Heavenly Divine Eye. It could see through all illusions and clearly discern the truth and falsehood of any deadly ground.
Most terrifying of all was that in the midst of battle, the Heavenly Eye could perceive every single opening in an opponent. That made it utterly horrifying. Some who had cultivated the Heavenly Eye to completion could even perceive the movements of others as slow as a crawling snail — nearly standing still.
“That person is very powerful. But my brother says he is not yet the number one in the world.” The Ji Family’s little moon said as she caught up to Ye Fan, her black hair streaming behind her, eyes full of life and spirit, her face of flawless jade — playful and gentle all at once.
The hundred sects and schools had all come. Large numbers of powerful cultivators entered. The dragon-vein geomancers, with their sharp and discerning eyes, had deduced routes that overlapped perfectly with the eight safe paths Ye Fan had mapped out.
“The Central Emperor has arrived.”
Outside, a stir ran through the crowd. Many began to speak of it at once. A man with hair hanging loose as a waterfall walked at an unhurried pace — steady as a mountain, vast as a great peak — making his way step by step along one of the safe paths into the immortal grounds.
Nine thousand years ago, he had already been a supreme Emperor-Sovereign. Now, even the leaders of various great factions felt a creeping unease upon laying eyes on him. Though his physical age appeared no more than twenty, his cultivation was simply there — towering above all the rest, looking down on the heroes of the age.
“Little Ye Fan, is it really alright for us to go in like this? Won’t Wang Teng make trouble for you?” Ji Ziyue murmured quietly.
“It doesn’t matter. In a place like this, his brother and he won’t be able to run wild.” Ye Fan paid it no mind.
“The Yao Guang Holy Son has come as well.” The Ji Family’s little moon pointed toward another direction and said softly: “My brother says the Yao Guang Holy Son is far more powerful than the world imagines.”
On that path, the Yao Guang Holy Sovereign walked with wide, flowing sleeves. Behind him followed a young man bathed in divine radiance — like the Son of the Sun God himself.
Beside them, Yao Xi also kept pace — her long skirt trailing the ground, graceful and beautiful as a celestial being from the Moon Palace, gliding forward with light, delicate steps.
Something stirred in Ye Fan’s heart. He said: “It seems the Yao Guang Holy Son can now hold his own independently. Otherwise, the Yao Guang Holy Sovereign would not dare bring him to a place like this.”
The people of the Four Undying Divine Dynasties had all entered as well. Several princes were particularly striking — with the gait of dragons and the bearing of tigers, following in the footsteps of their elder generation.
After the elderly monks of the Western Desert stepped in, the powerful figures of the Southern Ridge arrived as well — not only human battle-sovereigns, but several great demon sovereigns too. From ancient times, the south had always been home to great demons.
“There won’t be any shortage of fierce contention here.”
People from all Five Great Regions had come. The birthplace of the Azure Emperor was truly no ordinary place — this time it had stirred the hearts of a great many.
“It was deduced by the Divine Oracle. Without him, there’s no way this many people could have found it.” Ji Ziyue disclosed this secret in a low voice.
“This Divine Oracle again — what exactly is his background?” Ye Fan grew suspicious. Two years ago, the Divine Oracle’s senior disciple had helped the Yin-Yang Sect calculate his location. If he hadn’t reclaimed the God-Slaying Whip, he would likely have been hunted without end.
By this point, they had entered the central region of the immortal grounds, standing on the open space between the Immortal Ascension Pool and the ancient lair — where shadowy figures were gathering in considerable numbers.
Yet not one person dared to act rashly. The closer one drew to the center, the more potentially lethal the ground became. Everyone was waiting for the dragon-vein geomancers and Ouyang Ye’s group from the Eastern Wasteland to reach their conclusions.
Having arrived here, Ye Fan was completely at ease. He had been studying this place for over a month — he understood it more thoroughly than the several dragon-vein geomancers or any other remarkable figure present. He had long since seen through everything here.
“You really dared to come in — if you fall into the Dragon Lair and die some miserable death, don’t come blaming anyone else.” Wang Chong spotted Jiang Huairen, Wu Zhongtian, and Pang Bo and laughed coldly, over and over.
They were not standing together — positioned at different points — yet they had stopped advancing. Ye Fan had perceived something amiss and told them not to move rashly.
“That little brat is so insufferably arrogant. I really want to slap him twice.” Li Heishui cursed. They slowly gathered together.
“The main problem is that his brother is too powerful. Even the senior generation won’t easily provoke him. His future accomplishments are beyond imagining.” Liu Kou sighed.
“Damn it. I’m just waiting for Little Ye Fan’s Holy Physique to reach full mastery — then we’ll beat them to death. This eleven-year-old kid really should be strangled.” Jiang Huairen said, his hair still in complete disarray, his hairpin having fallen out earlier.
“What — still not convinced?” Wang Chong laughed coldly and provokingly, standing atop the golden war chariot and looking down at them.
At this moment, Wang Teng was nowhere nearby — he had actually gone to stand alongside those sect leaders and other top figures, conversing with them. He genuinely had the standing to do so.
“What are you being so arrogant about? If your brother weren’t here, many people would dare to kill you with a single finger.” Someone transmitted a voice — coming now from the left, now from the right — with no way to tell who it was.
Pang Bo knew trouble was brewing. Someone was stirring up conflict, trying to pin the blame on their group and provoke a fierce clash.
“Who said that?!” Wang Chong was not large in stature, but his hostility ran deep. He swept his gaze in all directions, then finally fixed it on Jiang Huairen and the others.
BOOM!
Suddenly, from far away, an earth-shaking collision rang out — two supreme figures had actually exchanged blows. The shockwave swept out, sending many people flying through the air.
Several who were sent tumbling into the dangerous zones were immediately dissolved by the “Heaven’s Gorge” into blood and pus — not even a single hair remained of them.
Wang Teng and the Central Emperor had clashed. No one had anticipated that these two would come into conflict in a place like this. A single exchange had caused every sect leader present to change color.
“How did these two end up facing off?”
Everyone was deeply astonished — especially those who knew something of the House of Extraordinary Talents. Over the past two or more years, the Northern Emperor had been in closed-door cultivation the entire time. Some said he was training a peculiar technique, and he had never once come into conflict with the Central Emperor.
Yet people knew that a battle between the two was inevitable — it could not be avoided forever. The Northern Emperor had apparently been restraining himself, unwilling to cross blades too early with someone who had already been making his name resound through the world nine thousand years ago.
“Just now, the Northern Emperor stepped forward — it seems he said something, and the Central Emperor refused. No one knows why the two of them suddenly struck at each other.” said one nearby sect-leader-level figure — who had only caught a rough glimpse without knowing what the two supreme dragon-phoenix figures had said to each other.
Across this expanse of heaven and earth, the cries of dragons and phoenixes rang out. Wang Teng’s entire body was shrouded in divine light — radiance surging torrentially, flooding the entire region. Every move he made brought true dragons and divine phoenixes soaring in tandem, crying out in harmony above his head, making him look like nothing less than the Emperor of Heaven descended into the mortal world.
Not a single person present — especially the various sect leaders, who were the rulers of the contemporary world, their authority and combat power immense — could keep their composure. In their hearts, each felt an overwhelming pressure.
The Central Emperor’s black hair was unbound, his bearing heroic and imposing. Each of his strikes was broad and open, vast and unconstrained, without soaring divine radiance — yet carrying a power that transmuted the rotten into the miraculous.
With each exchange between the two, the ten directions shook violently. Many people could not even keep their footing — they were swept up into the heights. Even those half-step supreme masters could only fall back.
Were it not for this ground being uniquely extraordinary and enduring, the boundless mountain ranges would long since have been reduced to dust. Their power was absolute — a single pointed finger could collapse a mountain range.
“The bearing of a Heavenly Emperor! The momentum of a Sacred Sovereign!”
The crowd cried out in amazement. These two were incomparably powerful — rarely seen across the ages. So young, yet already of such achievement — they looked down on the senior sect-leader-level figures.
With every move Wang Teng made, true dragons, divine phoenixes, white tigers, and black tortoises appeared around him — divine light surging forth, resonating with the nine heavens, the sky ablaze with radiance. Nine true dragons, nine divine phoenixes, nine white tigers, nine black tortoises — standing guard at the four corners, forming the Four Symbols of Heaven and Earth, golden light billowing, encircling him at the center. It was as if the Emperor of Heaven had descended.
The Central Emperor was no less extraordinary — like the Sacred Sovereign of remote antiquity reborn, commanding and supreme in dignity. His every movement and gesture was grand and unrestrained; the techniques he employed were aligned and balanced, yet held within them the power to refine and absorb heaven and earth.
No radiance surrounded him — yet he gave the impression of setting all the stars of the heavens in motion, filling everyone with the sense that they could not stand against him. It was as though a great human emperor had crossed ten thousand ages to stand before them.
“My brother will definitely win — among the young generation, he is the undisputed number one in the world!” Wang Chong clenched his fists.
In truth, every sect leader present was deeply troubled. Who could say with confidence they could defeat Wang Teng? Throughout all of history and the present day, how many people of this age had achieved such things?
Jiang Huairen was thoroughly displeased. Earlier, the golden ancient war chariot had nearly caved his skull in — he had lost his wooden hairpin, his hair now hanging down in a mess. He said with a cold sneer: “I hope the Central Emperor beats him to death.”
Though he kept his voice down, Wang Chong’s ears were sharp and caught every word. He snapped around at once. “You’re looking for death!”
“You little brat — you are far too arrogant!” Wu Zhongtian and the others erupted. They were all descendants of great outlaws, people who had always done as they pleased. Never had they been spoken to like this.
“All of you want to die? I’ll grant that wish!” Wang Chong leaped down from the golden war chariot and bore down on them. Behind him, two ancient creatures followed — one covered all over in gold-colored scales, the other as though cast from pure silver.
Jiang Huairen, Wu Zhongtian, and Li Heishui, though enraged, were forced to acknowledge it: Wang Chong was genuinely powerful — worthy of being Wang Teng’s younger brother. Not yet twelve years old, and already a perfected cultivator at the Eighth Dragon Transformation — the youngest prodigy in the House of Extraordinary Talents.
“You dead bandits — I’ve heard you’re old friends with that Ye Fan. I’ve been wanting to deal with you for a long time!” Wang Chong laughed coldly. With the two ancient creatures at his side, he had no fear of losing the upper hand.
Pang Bo walked forward and said with a derisive smile: “Little brat — do you think you’ve turned into your brother? You don’t have the standing to say those things yet.”
“I don’t have the standing? In a moment, I’ll stomp every last one of you into the ground and throw you into the Dragon Lair to feed the red-furred creatures.” Wang Chong was small in stature, but his words were sharp as blades. He stood on a boulder of green stone, looking down at the group. “The person I encountered in Qin City must have been Ye Fan in disguise. Tell him to get out here — this time I’m going to pinch him to death.”
He gestured to the two ancient creatures to prepare for battle, scanning in all directions, trying to flush Ye Fan out.
In the distance, Wang Teng and the Central Emperor fought on — drawing the gaze of the overwhelming majority of those present. Yet a good number of people had noticed the disturbance here.
“Not very big, but quite the mouth on him — arrogance through the roof.” A voice rang out. Then the void shook violently, and one enormous foot — stretching a full ten feet in length, swallowed in golden light — came stamping down from high above.
BOOM!
Smoke and dust surged into the sky. The earth shook with violence. Wang Chong let out a startled cry — yet he had absolutely no way to dodge. That golden foot came pressing down and pinned him beneath it.
Ye Fan smiled coldly. He had used a single dharma-form divine ability — standing there like a golden war god made manifest, heroic and towering, rising ten zhang into the air.
Everyone present was astonished. Wang Teng was not far away, yet someone had dared to act like this — crushing his younger brother underfoot with a single stomp.
“Ye Fan…” Wang Chong cried out. He could scarcely believe it. His brother was right there — and yet Ye Fan had truly stepped forward and stamped him into the ground.
“It’s Ye Fan — the Eastern Wasteland prodigy who disappeared more than two years ago!” Many people were shocked.
Among the younger generation present, the Yao Guang Holy Son, Yao Xi, the Great Xia Crown Prince, the Jade Pool Holy Maiden, the second most beautiful woman of the Central Continent — the Moon Spirit Princess — and many others all turned to look.
Even the various sect-leader-level figures were taken aback. The Northern Emperor was right there, nearby — yet Ye Fan had dared to do this. It was beyond what anyone had anticipated.