The Eight Sceneries Palace — how could such a place truly exist? Ye Fan’s heart was filled with shock and astonishment, and for a moment he was completely stunned.

“Is the master of the Xuandu Cave none other than Laozi?” He simply could not restrain himself, and asked eagerly.

The young attendant did not answer. His expression was deeply unfriendly. Though his lips were red, his teeth white, and he appeared to be no more than seven or eight years old, he carried himself with great authority, saying: “Why have you damaged my immortal grounds?”

Although Ye Fan knew that Laozi was a powerful cultivator, he had never imagined that a place like the Eight Sceneries Palace truly existed — it was far too astonishing.

Laozi was a man from two thousand five hundred years ago, who had come from the other end of the starry sky, just as Ye Fan had. In Ye Fan’s previous understanding, he had been an ancient sage of great wisdom.

In the past, he had never once considered that Laozi might be a cultivator.

It was only later, when he crossed to the far shore of the starry sky and entered the Northern Dipper Star Region, experiencing all manner of things, that his former understanding was overturned — yet even then he had not dwelt much on the thought.

And now, to hear that the Xuandu Cave actually existed on this ancient star — his heart was truly shaken to its core.

The Eight Sceneries Palace of Laozi, the Great Thunder Sound Temple of Shakyamuni — these were comparable in grandeur, both places that challenged everything he thought he knew, leaving him unable to help but marvel.

“Why did you charge through my mountain gate and ruin my sacred grounds?” The young attendant persisted relentlessly, demanding answers from Ye Fan.

Ye Fan performed a Daoist salute and offered his apologies, saying: “I intended no offense. I accidentally fell and landed here.”

He was quite courteous toward the young attendant, for he wished to enter and meet Laozi — that sage of ancient China, who had left behind an endless trail of mysteries, who had appeared in the Northern Dipper Star Region, and whose footprints could also be found in this world.

At this moment, having just tumbled down right before the cave dwelling of the Old Lord, the excitement in Ye Fan’s heart was easy to imagine. He longed to meet him at once.

The young attendant looked at him as if he had seen a ghost, his expression one of sheer disbelief: “Who is it you want to see?”

“I wish to pay my respects to the Old Lord,” Ye Fan said earnestly.

“Where are you from? Don’t tell me you fell straight out of the sky, or that you’ve been shut away somewhere for the last thousand years?” The young attendant’s face was full of bewilderment.

Ye Fan knew there must be some misunderstanding — otherwise, the other party would not be acting this way.

The young attendant was deeply contemptuous: “Just look at yourself — you’ve clearly never seen the world. To ask something like that, you must have just crawled out of some mountain cave.”

“What do you mean?” Ye Fan asked flatly.

“As for finding Laozi — that’s out of the question. The current master of the Eight Sceneries Palace is my master — Yin Tiande!”

“What are you saying?” Ye Fan was taken aback. Many inexplicable things had happened today. First he had physically arrived in the mythological Purple Tenuity Ancient Star Region, then he had heard of Laozi’s Xuandu Cave — and now he was hearing that there was yet another master here.

“You ignorant country bumpkin — you’ve damaged our immortal gate and you stand here asking questions left and right. How utterly unruly.” The young attendant had nothing kind to say.

Ye Fan had drifted alone through the dark cosmos for seven years, passing through ancient domains like the Tai Yin Mist. His robes had long since become tattered and worn, and he had never once changed them — yet he had not expected to be scorned for it and called a country bumpkin because of this.

Where did Laozi go? Who is Yin Tiande, and how did he come to be the master of this place? His heart was full of questions.

“How bold! You appear from nowhere, yet you turn around and interrogate me? You’ve damaged our mountain gate and disturbed our sacred grounds — what do you deserve for that?” The young attendant’s face darkened.

Ye Fan felt a wave of revulsion. He had not expected that even this small young attendant would put on airs with him, and he instantly grew cold.

“You’re nothing but a wild man. You’ve damaged our immortal gate and you dare make faces at me?” The young attendant laughed coldly, with a hint of arrogance: “Take a look around — do you even know where you are? Is this a place that someone like you can come to?”

Though he appeared very young, there was not an ounce of simplicity in him. He was domineering and aggressive, and suddenly he thrust out a hand, reaching forward to seize Ye Fan.

What had been a warm and fair little hand suddenly flickered with cyan light, small dense scales sprouting across it as it grew to over a dozen zhang in length — vast and boundless, pressing down from above, its nails sharp and bone-chillingly cold.

“I thought this was a young child. It turns out to be a long-lived demon, no wonder so arrogant.” Ye Fan let out a cold snort. He stood rooted to the spot without moving half a step, raising his hand to meet the attack.

By now, his cultivation had reached the second level of the Immortal Platform. He did not fear even the most supreme Saint Lords — how could he be bullied by a mere young attendant? He struck without hesitation.

Boom!

Ye Fan’s palm and fingers, forged as if from divine gold, shattered the dozen-zhang-long hand covered in dense cyan scales on the spot. And this was the result of him holding back — had he not, it would certainly have been reduced to a pulp.

“You—” The young attendant cried out in agony, stumbling backward again and again. The great cyan hand shrank back to its normal size, grotesquely twisted, bones cracking ceaselessly, with holy power still running amok within it.

“This may be the Xuandu Cave and the Eight Sceneries Palace, but you, a mere young attendant, cannot act with such wanton disregard. I believe that even if Laozi were here, he would not permit those under his gate to conduct themselves in such a manner.” Ye Fan said coolly.

“You — what audacity, to run wild in my Eight Sceneries Palace! Even if you had nine lives today, it would not be enough to pay for what you’ve done!” The young attendant cried out, pointing at Ye Fan, then called out loudly toward the mountain gate before swiftly retreating.

Ye Fan paid him no heed. After all, this was the Eight Sceneries Palace — and though the young attendant had been most unreasonable, he did not wish to strike him dead.

“Who is causing this commotion?” From deep within this immortal land came a sharp rebuke — a clear and cold voice, not especially old, yet carrying an unmistakable air of authority.

This sacred land was graced with beautiful peaks, divine birds soaring through the air, red cliffs and strange rocks, waterfalls cascading like silk ribbons. Along the sheer cliff faces and beneath the precipitous crags, sacred mushrooms grew in abundance, surrounded by rosy clouds and auspicious mist layered one upon another.

This place was not especially vast, and it seemed only a few people cultivated here — yet it was truly extraordinary, deserving to be called a land of divine and magnificent beauty.

“There’s a country bumpkin with the gall of a leopard who came to make trouble. He’s ruined our mountain gate and has been probing the Eight Sceneries Palace’s secrets nonstop.” The young attendant cried out, his broken right hand convulsing, cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

From a distance, a young man approached. His manner was steady and composed. He wore robes adorned with five-colored dragons and a purple-gold crown upon his head. His hands were clasped behind his back as he strode through the void, imposing without the need for anger.

He was a young man of no great age — appearing to be in his mid-twenties at most. His eyebrows swept into his temples, his hair dark and lustrous, his gaze sharp and cold. He could not be called handsome, but he carried a powerful aura — walking with the stride of a dragon and the step of a tiger, like a great heavenly king descended to the mortal world.

“My elder brother has only been in closed seclusion for a year, and already someone cannot wait to set their sights on the Eight Sceneries Palace?!” He was utterly cold, walking toward the mountain gate.

Ye Fan stood outside the mountain gate, poised atop a blue stone. He swept the area with his divine sense and found that this immortal land held no more than two or three people in total.

So this is the Eight Sceneries Palace of the Xuandu Cave? It was completely unlike anything he had imagined — not many cultivators at all, just these two or three people.

When Ye Fan laid eyes on this young man — robed in dragon garments, magnificent in bearing, like a heavenly king descended to earth — he sensed immediately that this was no ordinary person. Looking more carefully, he was even more astonished, for the young man was extraordinarily powerful.

Above the crown of this man’s head, a column of blood energy rose invisibly toward the sky — nearly imperceptible unless one possessed the Source Heaven Divine Eye. His entire body surged with life essence like a great dragon — surging, tempestuous — like a divine furnace containing a terrifyingly fearsome divine power.

Ye Fan was quite shaken. He had only just arrived in the Purple Tenuity Star Region, and already he had encountered such a supremely powerful young man — one who was absolutely on par with a Saint Lord.

“Who are you, to dare come make trouble in my Eight Sceneries Palace?” The young man asked coldly and indifferently.

“I intended no offense. I fell from the sky and landed here, damaging your mountain gate…” Ye Fan explained.

“Say no more. You have destroyed our mountain gate and injured our attendant — these are grave offenses. Your punishment is to serve as a servant here, guarding our mountain gate for three years. After that time is fulfilled, you will be released. Do you submit?” The young man clasped his hands behind his back. His speech was slow, but carried great weight — resonating like the toll of a golden bell.

He gave no room for further explanation. Like one accustomed to being above all others, he carried great authority, pronouncing sentence upon Ye Fan directly, condemning him to servitude.

“Who do you think you are, telling me to be your servant and guard your mountain gate?” Ye Fan’s face darkened — though inwardly he was deeply shaken. This young man was truly extraordinarily powerful. The blood energy within him rose like a pillar, as if tens of thousands of true dragons were flowing within him.

“You’ve been given an opportunity and refuse to cherish it. Must I personally strike you down?!” The young man’s gaze was icy cold. He stood upon the cliff face, looking down at Ye Fan from above.

“I only wish to know — is Laozi the master of the Eight Sceneries Palace?” Ye Fan asked.

“Hmph. This place belongs to our master.” The young attendant’s gaze was venomously cold, filled with boundless hostility.

“Who are you?” Ye Fan said.

“My elder brother Yin Tiande is the master of the Eight Sceneries Palace. I too cultivate in the Xuandu Cave. My name is Yin Tianzhi. I am telling you this so that you do not die in ignorance.” The young man said lightly.

“You ignorant country bumpkin — why haven’t you come forward to pay your respects to the younger brother of our master? You don’t know what’s good for you.” The young attendant called out.

Slap!

Ye Fan struck. His golden palm and fingers, like a great golden millstone, flashed with a piercing divine-gold light as it lashed out.

The young attendant screamed — a mouthful of teeth flew out, blood streaming down his face. He had no way to evade it. He was sent flying dozens of zhang, slamming into a cliff face and leaving a human-shaped crater in the rock.

“Are you looking for death — daring to strike someone in my Eight Sceneries Palace?!” Yin Tianzhi’s face instantly turned dark. His overwhelming dominance bore down as he stared at Ye Fan, advancing toward him step by step with relentless pressure.

The young attendant had suffered a comminuted fracture on half his face. He struggled to peel himself from the cliff wall, snarling ferociously: “Everyone in the world knows that our master will one day be unrivaled in heaven and earth. How dare you come here seeking death?”

By now, Ye Fan’s strength was comparable to a Supreme Emperor Lord. Once the Holy Physique reached such a level, it was extraordinarily fearsome — one who could go anywhere under heaven without restraint, naturally without the slightest apprehension.

Slap!

He delivered another backhanded slap. The great golden hand reached out dozens of zhang, sending the young attendant flying again. The bones on the other side of his face were also shattered, and he could no longer utter a single word — his eyes filled with terror.

Gravely wounded, the young attendant transformed into a cyan wild flood dragon, coiling atop a mountain crag, no longer daring to make a single sound.

“Even when beating a dog, one must consider its master. You’ve been this reckless before my Eight Sceneries Palace — you cannot expect to walk away today unscathed. If you want to keep your life, you will serve here until the end of your days.” Yin Tianzhi said grimly.

“Is that so? I’d like to see how you plan to keep me.” Ye Fan was utterly composed, stepping up into the high air to face him directly.

“Oh?” Yin Tianzhi suddenly froze, then his expression shifted to one of shock: “The breath of the Mother Qi of All Things — you have the Mysterious Yellow Essence on you!”

Ye Fan’s heart tensed. This person’s spiritual perception was extraordinarily powerful — he could even sense the cauldron concealed within Ye Fan’s brow.

“Excellent! My elder brother has been seeking the Mother Qi of All Things to consecrate a Mysterious Yellow玲珑 Treasure Pagoda — and now you’ve brought it here yourself!”

Yin Tianzhi spoke as if this were a matter of course, as if Ye Fan had come only to hand over the treasure and do someone else’s work for them. He reached out a great hand and grabbed toward Ye Fan — in an instant it blotted out heaven and earth.

Ye Fan was startled. He had no idea how powerful this man’s physical body truly was — a mere light tremor seemed to collapse the very sky.

Nevertheless, he had no fear. As the bearer of the Holy Physique, he was born without fear of close-quarters combat, and he met the attack head-on.

Boom!

Their great hands struck each other, producing a muffled resonance. Yin Tianzhi’s physical body was like a piece of eternal, indestructible divine gold — solid and unbreakable.

“This strong?!” Ye Fan’s heart leaped violently. This was one of the most powerful physical bodies he had ever encountered since beginning his path.

“I bathed myself in the blood of the Undying Divine Phoenix. Aside from my elder brother, today is the first time I have ever met someone whose physical body can contend with mine — and yet I failed to crush you?!” Yin Tianzhi was also greatly astonished, then let out a cold laugh: “Phoenix blood, boil!”

He shouted the words, and a torrent of crimson radiance erupted from his entire body. Enveloped in a layer of Undying Divine Phoenix blood, his physical body became incomparably solid — as though it could never be destroyed for all eternity.

Ye Fan let out a cold snort. He no longer held anything back. His golden blood began to boil, his aura piercing the heavens. A golden rainbow shot up from the crown of his head and pierced through the sky.

Pff!

In a collision of peerless physical bodies, a jet of blood light erupted. With a single motion, Ye Fan tore off one of Yin Tianzhi’s arms. A piteous cry rang out: “You—”

He swiftly retreated, steadied himself, and stanched the bleeding from his right arm as it regrew. He roared: “Today, I will cut you down!”