Ye Fan sat cross-legged in the void, gazing toward the Northern Dipper Star Domain through the eternal darkness. There — a dim, familiar light. Friends of old. He did not know how they fared now.

Seven years had passed. Much must have happened. What had become of his enemies and companions from those days — were they still as before?

Zhou Yi, Wang Ziwen, Lin Jia — he had not seen any of them since they parted. Were they still alive? What was Pang Bo, his closest companion through life and death, doing now?

Had Li Heishui, Jiang Huairen, and Wu Zhongtian been reunited with Tu Fei, who had been thrown into the Northern Plains?

Was the Black Emperor — that scoundrel — still raising havoc across the world? And yet, why did Ye Fan feel a faint unease, a worry on that creature’s behalf — could something terrible have happened?

Seven years. Had Xiao Nannan grown up? What changes had come over her?

Ji Ziyue — that woman of such grace and beauty, inside and out — was she gazing up at the stars right now? Was she still grinding her small, tiger-like teeth and murmuring his name?

Ji Haoyue, with his innately peerless body — had he become the foremost of the Eastern Wilderness’s young generation?

Thinking of Ji Haoyue inevitably brought to mind the figure of the Holy Son Yao Guang — that heaven-defying genius whose depths could not be fathomed. Had he truly soared to the heavens? When he made his move, it might well shatter the sky and shake the whole world.

The Holy Maiden of Jade Pool, Yao Xi, Yan Ruyu, the Golden-Winged Little Peng King, Xia Jiuyou, the Central Emperor, the Southern Demon, the Western Bodhisattva — so many people. What had they each achieved by now?

The two great divine dynasties of the mortal world and the underworld — had their supreme divine children, renowned for slaying kings, emerged yet? What pressure had they brought to bear on the kings of the five territories?

The holy lands of the Eastern Wilderness, the divine dynasties of the Central Region, the many ancient temples of the Western Desert — what great events had unfolded across all of them in these years?

The Sick Elder — was he the one who had surpassed the nine secrets nine thousand years ago? What was his health now? Was the Fighting-Victorious Buddha atop Mount Sumeru truly the monkey’s uncle? What level of cultivation had he reached? Had the ancient royal clans of the primordial age emerged? What pressure would they bring upon the human race?

The Desolate Ancient Forbidden Land — the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin had departed from there. Had anything changed in that endless abyss below?

The Desolate Mountain — within it: Netherworld Grass, Black Tortoise divine medicine, the Enlightenment Ancient Tea Tree, and the sacred spirit formed from immortal tear jade. And deep within, guarded by the headless knight, the supreme existence — was it on the verge of emerging?

The Primordial Ancient Mine — the most mysterious place of all, approached by no race even in the ancient eons. He had once witnessed it breathing in and out the light of the sun, moon, and stars, vast and white, with ancient corpses drifting within. Now that the ancient beings had revived, would the ten-thousand-year secrets finally be unveiled?

The Divine Ruins — with its Southern Heavenly Gate, and the ancient celestial palace that had stood there since time immemorial. Had the monkey gone to seek the immortal peach tree of the Fighting-Victorious Divine Ape clan?

The Immortal Tomb — said to be a vast and immense graveyard of immortals. Were true immortals actually buried there? He had never visited.

So much… far too much. Ye Fan had only briefly lost himself in thought — and already his mind had swept across countless memories of the Northern Dipper Star Domain, most of them gathered in the Eastern Wilderness.

“I had hoped to risk everything and return home. Yet instead I found myself adrift in the cosmos. Now there may no longer be any way back.”

Facing this vast canopy of stars, he felt, truly and deeply, how small he was. Not just a single small body of flesh — even a great star, an entire star domain, amounted to nothing in this expanse, as insignificant as a mote of dust.

In this boundless universe, humanity was truly minuscule. Human power amounted to even less. To travel from one star domain to another might require hundreds of lifetimes of flight.

To say nothing of crossing from one end of the lightless cosmos to the other — that was nearly inconceivable, virtually impossible to achieve.

“In all likelihood, I will drift here forever — as cosmic dust — until my life reaches its end. I may never see another living soul again.” Ye Fan sighed softly.

There was nothing to be done about it. No force could change it — unless he could keep breaking through, eventually becoming something like the ancient Saints of old. Only then might a return be possible.

“Seven years now. Why does my heart keep lurching? Can it be that something has happened? If some of my old companions have already fallen in battle, I cannot even see them off.”

Suddenly, a fear seized him. Could people truly have died? Why was it that at times, even in meditation, his heart would be jolted awake — could it be that there had truly been a great upheaval in the Eastern Wilderness?

“Some of my enemies — their depths I cannot even begin to fathom. If they have directed their anger at Pang Bo and the others, things would be very bad…”

The two divine children of the assassin dynasty — they had never appeared. Sooner or later, the Ten-Thousand Dragons’ Nest would learn that he had stirred up trouble there…

In the lightless cosmos, Ye Fan let out a soft sigh — helpless. He had become a Saint Lord now, yet even with such boundless power, he could not help them.

“A Saint Body of immense power — and yet powerless to awe them!”

Seven full years of solitude. He had drifted through a cosmos without life, enduring endless loneliness — and at last, he had achieved what he had now.

Compared to the past, his pace of cultivation these seven years had not been swift. But it had been rock solid. He had reinforced each step. He intended to achieve the Dao — and for that, this was necessary.

Yet compared to others, his speed of cultivation was still extraordinary.

Suddenly, Ye Fan’s heart lurched. The green-robed elder beside him seemed to have revived. The dim, dead eyes that had been lightless in the black sky suddenly blazed to life — like two stars exploding into brilliance.

From within those eyes flew two incomplete Five-Color Altars, which then collided and fused into a single, perfectly intact ancient altar platform.

“This is…” Ye Fan was greatly astonished.

Everything had happened too unexpectedly. The divine obsession — which he had thought nearly extinguished and dissolved into the Dao — had surprised him time and again. And now it had produced an altar.

“Take me back to the Ziwei Ancient Star — grant you divine fortune. Abandon me — and a hundred lifetimes of cursing shall follow…”

The green-robed elder’s expression was harrowing. He gave voice to these few words in a low, heavy tone. Then his body rapidly faded, pouring itself into the Five-Color Altar.

In the end, only a translucent apparition of him remained, cradling the stone coffin, repeating the words he had just spoken like a mantra — staring fixedly at Ye Fan.

“If you can open a path to the Ziwei Ancient Star Domain, of course I have no objection.” In this cold, desolate cosmos without a single sign of life, Ye Fan truly felt the loneliness — and if there were an opportunity to leave, he naturally wanted to seize it and enter a wellspring of life.

Whoosh!

Light blazed. The green-robed elder grew ever more faint. All the life force within him poured into the Five-Color Altar — which measured no more than two meters in diameter. Then, from the center of his brow, a small pagoda fell. He and the stone coffin were absorbed into it.

Ding!

The pagoda was minuscule — no larger than the pad of a fingertip. It fell upon the Five-Color Altar with a crisp, clear ring.

Ye Fan was astounded. A being born of a divine entity’s malevolent obsession was actually asking something of him. Could it truly sail forth once more?

He waited a long time, but the small Five-Color Altar showed no change at all. At last, Ye Fan picked up the small pagoda and, as the green-robed elder had done, poured his entire life force into the Five-Color Altar.

Finally, the Five-Color Altar was activated. Energy from the dark cosmos came flowing like water — energy he could sense but had never been able to draw upon.

Boom!

In that dark sky, for the first time in millions and millions of years, a supremely resplendent divine radiance blazed into being.

The Five-Color Altar glowed brilliantly. Five divine lights wove into a two-meter Eight-Trigrams formation, creating a spatial wormhole that drew Ye Fan inside.

“Ziwei, the Great Emperor Star!”

Through the depths of the spatial wormhole, Ye Fan caught sight of a great purple star radiating divine radiance — suspended at the end of the eternal void.

Was that truly the Ziwei Lord Star of ancient Chinese legend? Ye Fan was overcome with excitement. The ancients had draped it in so much mystery — and now he might truly be on his way to that star domain.

The star gate opened a deep, vast corridor stretching straight ahead. Ye Fan sped through it, starlight glinting past him along the way.

His heart was uneasy. He did not know if he could reach the destination this time. The past attempts at crossing had all ended in failure — running aground midway, even forcing him to abandon the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin.

Starlight flickered. Ancient paths fell away behind him. Ye Fan felt time and light bending, spatial corridors shifting and changing — everything around him grew unreal.

At last, a tremendous sound erupted. He appeared within the star domain whose center was that great purple star. Immediately, he sensed a wholly unusual energy.

“The aura of an ancient great Emperor!”

“The Pressure Aura of a Celestial Emperor?!”

Ye Fan’s heart shuddered violently. At first he thought a figure who had attained the Dao was before him — but as he sensed more carefully, he realized the aura emanated from the star domain itself. Only then did he truly understand how extraordinary this ancient star domain was.

Before he could reflect further, the spatial corridor twisted and curved, then spiraled — sending him rapidly through a transmission that deposited him near an ancient wellspring of life.

Wind rushed past Ye Fan’s ears with a howl. The sensation was as though he were about to ignite. He emerged from the wormhole and was now descending toward an ancient star.

“This time, I succeeded. I have come to a wellspring of life within the Ziwei Ancient Star Domain!” He could hardly believe it. Seven years adrift in the cosmos, with no hope left — and in a single instant, he had arrived at an ancient star filled with life.

A world of legend! Ye Fan felt it more unbelievable the more he thought about it. He had never imagined that one day he might truly descend here, arriving in person.

This was a great star — vast and boundless, inspiring a sense of awe beyond all measure. Ye Fan had already broken through its atmosphere and was now falling toward the surface.

Plummeting at tremendous speed, the scorching heat nearly set him ablaze. He brought forth the cauldron and drew himself inside, rapidly approaching this ancient wellspring of life.

The Myriad Primordial Qi Cauldron — like a meteor splitting the sky — fell rapidly toward the great land below. Seen from high above, the sight was deeply, profoundly moving.

The land was boundless and vast. Great mountains rose so high their peaks were lost in the clouds. Torrential rivers flowed for a hundred thousand miles in a single rush. Stretches of sacred soil radiated spiritual energy into the heavens. This was a resplendent world — magnificent yet graceful, sweeping yet ethereal — one that shook the heart.

The cauldron was heavy and swift. Descending from beyond the domain’s borders, it crashed down into a stretch of sacred soil.

A tremendous sound erupted. The earth trembled. A cliff face was shattered, and billowing clouds of dust surged skyward, boulders tumbling through the air.

Nearby, a silver waterfall exploded into curtains of mist and spray. Every spirit tree around it snapped in half. All the rare grasses lay flat and disheveled.

A flock of spiritual birds cried out in fright, bursting upward from the ground in a panic and fleeing into the distance.

“Who dares intrude upon my Xuandu Cave, the Palace of Eight Luminaries?!” At that very moment, a youth with crimson lips and white teeth came flying over, calling out in a loud, commanding voice.

Within the cauldron, Ye Fan froze. The place the youth spoke of — it sounded strangely familiar.

Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning. Was it not said that the place where Laozi resided was the Palace of Eight Luminaries within the Xuandu Cave of the Great Luo Heaven? Could this be…

Could it be that he had arrived there?!