Amid the ancient thousand-year-old Daoist temple, ancient pines stood verdant and tall, piercing the sky like coiling green dragons. Beneath the trees, a group of old Daoist priests sat cross-legged on futons, all turning to look over.

Guo Zhen felt considerably nervous, because those they faced were none other than experts from one of Daoism’s strongest lineages—the Lingbao Sect. He was but a lone cultivator; when had he ever faced such a scene? To him, these were like earthbound immortals.

Ye Fan patted his shoulder and said, “It’s nothing. Just a few stone steps. Go on and walk up four of them.”

“A few stone steps? Such big words!” The core disciple stood up, a cold sneer at the corner of his mouth. He truly looked down on these two lone cultivators, and found such words particularly grating to hear.

As a core disciple, he possessed extraordinary cultivation, having reached the Fate Spring realm. Many disciples looked up to him as their leader, and several stepped forward in support.

Guo Zhen gritted his teeth and took out the blue-cyan metal fragment, holding it between his fingers as it emitted a soft blue glow. He steeled himself and walked forward, intending to ascend the stone platform to test himself.

“Wait. Such minor cultivation, yet you dare ascend the platform where the supreme sect leaders once stood—this is a form of sacrilege. How about this: pass this test of mine first,” the core disciple said, changing his mind.

Guo Zhen had only just opened his Bitter Sea, with mere threads of essence beginning to emerge in his Fate Spring, not yet truly entered the second minor realm. But being looked down upon like this was a humiliation he couldn’t simply accept, and he had no choice but to respond to the challenge.

“Let me size you up.” As the core disciple spoke, a divine chain shot out from his Wheel Sea, radiating brilliant light, sweeping toward Guo Zhen’s waist.

Guo Zhen, being merely at Bitter Sea Perfection with his divine abilities not yet manifested, could only passively dodge, appearing rather clumsy, occasionally using the blue-gold fragment in his hand to resist, producing a burst of radiant light.

“You’re far too weak—this simply won’t do. With such means, you dare try to climb the stone steps? You two truly don’t know your place,” the core disciple said, shaking his head, adopting the posture of instructing a junior.

Guo Zhen’s face flushed red then pale, caught in a difficult position. Although he had the blue-gold fragment in hand, continuing like this would still end in defeat. He wanted to withdraw but found no graceful way to do so—being humiliated like this was hard to bear.

Ye Fan stood up, channeling a stream of pure essence from beneath the ground. Guo Zhen instantly felt his pores opening wide, filled with divine radiance. The blue-gold fragment in his hand flared brilliantly, and with a clang, it swept aside that divine chain.

“Xiu!”

He stepped forward, swinging the blue-gold fragment, a sheet of azure light bursting forth. The core disciple was instantly sent flying backward, crashing to the ground, twitching a few times before falling unconscious.

“How is this possible!”

“Ninth Senior Brother lost too—he’s a cultivator at the Fate Spring realm, how could he be defeated by someone who’s only just opened his Bitter Sea!”

The crowd stared in disbelief at this scene—the core disciple had lost, and cleanly at that, with barely any suspense, knocked unconscious.

An old Daoist priest stepped forward, feeling the core disciple’s pulse, and said, “He hasn’t been harmed.”

This result was hard to accept, especially for the four acquaintances who had once mocked Guo Zhen—they were now dumbstruck, their hearts pounding, finding this utterly inconceivable.

“So what exactly is that treasure?” Someone believed it was the power of the blue-gold fragment.

Guo Zhen involuntarily walked toward the stone steps, advancing step by step. Everyone was astonished—they hadn’t expected him to actually dare climb the heavenly staircase, even though defeating a core disciple certainly didn’t mean he possessed that kind of strength.

“This is far too arrogant, isn’t it—a mere Wheel Sea secret realm cultivator daring to climb that platform? Don’t even think about it!”

“These two truly don’t know their place. Do they really think they can compare themselves to the supreme sect leaders of ancient times?”

Many people whispered among themselves, none believing that a lone cultivator could actually climb up there—it simply wasn’t realistic.

However, what Guo Zhen did next left them all dumbstruck. He took six more steps consecutively, each step causing a tremor, climbing six steps in total, stunning many of the elderly figures present.

“What is going on?” Everyone froze, utterly confused, leaving those waiting to watch a joke with their jaws nearly on the ground.

Some who had been about to make sarcastic remarks immediately shut their mouths, swallowing hard, wishing they could rub their eyes—this was simply too incredible.

“He’s just a lone cultivator who’s only opened his Bitter Sea—how can he climb six stone steps?”

The core disciple who had just regained consciousness happened to witness this scene and nearly fainted again, half from anger and half from shock—this left him utterly humiliated.

Guo Zhen seemed to be sleepwalking, his legs moving beyond his control, then retreated back down. Even he himself couldn’t explain it, feeling dazed and dizzy, his footing unsteady once he reached the ground.

Meanwhile, Ye Fan had already stood up and was wandering around the Daoist temple grounds, releasing his powerful divine sense to scan every inch of ground, searching for traces of the Dao left by ancient sages. Having reached such a sacred place, he didn’t want to miss anything.

“How did you do that? What kind of expert are you?” an old Daoist priest stared at Guo Zhen.

The group of young people looked at each other upon hearing this, all astonished, no longer daring to show even a trace of contempt, all staring at Guo Zhen wanting an explanation.

Yet Guo Zhen himself couldn’t make sense of it either, standing there dazed, not knowing how to explain, looking blankly at the faintly glowing blue metal fragment in his hand, then at his own feet.

“Hey, I say, what’s going on with you—when did you go up there, how did you end up on the platform?” A group of young people were unhappy about this, not expecting Ye Fan to have ascended the sect leader’s lecture platform, appearing there without anyone noticing when.

Ye Fan had been wandering about this platform, searching every corner, having thoroughly examined the whole Daoist temple with no gains, finally discovering that only the Dao platform showed ripples of the Dao, which was why he had ascended it.

“You climbed up from the back stone steps?” The dozen or so elderly people all suddenly stood up, utterly shocked.

On the other side there was also a staircase, made entirely of green jade, likewise with thirty-three steps, but far more difficult to climb, because that was a path prepared for those who had cut through the Dao.

Yet now, where were such great spiritual powers to be found anymore? These old Daoists were completely stunned by this scene, simply unable to believe it.

Ye Fan paid them no mind, standing on the platform, extending his powerful divine sense to carefully sense his surroundings. In a trance, he saw a sheet of scriptural ancient characters, imprinted in the void.

“I see, this is where past generations of sect leaders lectured on the Dao—their Dao ripples imprinted into this platform.” After a long while, Ye Fan finally nodded to himself, understanding the situation. In a sense, this platform was a treasure in its own right.

“He climbed up from… the thirty-three jade stone steps? Representing the heavenly positions of ascension to immortality, passing through thirty-three layers of heaven—even the great spiritual powers of ancient times might not have been able to do this!”

Once the young people understood the situation, they felt chills running down their spines—this was simply too terrifying. Just how profound must one’s cultivation be to accomplish this?

Everyone showed looks of shock. Who exactly was this lone cultivator before them? How could he do all this, his expression unchanged, walking as easily as strolling through his own courtyard?

Ye Fan walked down from this side’s stone steps, taking exactly thirty-three steps to reach the ground. This time, everyone saw it clearly, all left speechless, unable to say a word.

He paid them no attention, circling around the Dao platform, closing his eyes, listening for sounds from hundreds and thousands of years ago, hoping to capture traces of the Nine Secrets’ scriptures. But he was disappointed—although the Dao platform had imprinted many techniques, it contained none of these secret arts.

“Greetings, senior!” An old Daoist priest was the first to come to his senses, bowing deeply in reverence, his expression both excited and somewhat flustered. In this current era, encountering a great spiritual power was extremely rare, and he wasn’t sure if this boded well or ill.

The other old Daoist priests quickly stepped forward as well, all bowing together, their hearts uneasy. Such a young great spiritual power appearing before them seemed like something out of a fantastical tale.

That vitality of life was certainly not fake, without a trace of decline. It was hard to imagine how he had achieved this—had he reached such a pinnacle state that he had returned to youth, or was he simply young in age to begin with? Everyone was speculating in their hearts.

By normal reasoning, achieving such accomplishment at this age in this era of declining Dharma was as unrealistic as finding proof of ascending to immortality in broad daylight!

Seeing the dozen or so old Daoist priests behave this way left the group of young people even more stunned, none daring to breathe loudly, all bowing deeply in reverence. In their eyes, this was a figure like a living ancestor.

Guo Zhen was somewhat dazed—how had his fellow traveling companion suddenly become so unfamiliar? He felt like he was facing someone unreachably high above him, even the experts of the Lingbao Sect being overawed, making him feel as if in a dream.

Meanwhile, the four young men who had known him earlier had turned deathly pale, their bodies trembling. Having mocked him several times, they felt they had committed an unforgivable offense.

At the same time, they were filled with regret. Back at Mount Tai, Ye Fan had originally intended to travel together with them, but the group had disdained him, tossing him to Guo Zhen instead—missing what would have been a tremendous stroke of fortune, an opportunity that had originally been a great blessing.

The four regretted this bitterly, resenting themselves, but it was too late to say anything now. They could only tremble in fear, awaiting an uncertain fate, terrified that Ye Fan might bring calamity down upon them, wiping them all out.

They were naturally overthinking this—how could Ye Fan possibly hold it against people like them? At this point, he had left the Dao platform, having fully recovered his composure, and said upon seeing this, “All of you… please rise.”

“Swoosh!”

At that moment, Little Pine, hidden away in Ye Fan’s spatial artifact, sensed that the atmosphere had eased and, lively as ever, leapt out, climbing up an ancient pine tree in the courtyard to search for pine nuts.

“A purple squirrel!”

“A creature covered in shimmering, crystalline purple fur—it’s… that person’s pet! A great spiritual power!”

The crowd all froze, both the elderly and the young alike shocked, immediately thinking of a rumor from recent days. The Great Xia Dragon Sparrow clan had four great branches, and not long ago one branch had nearly been wiped out by someone.

Recently, sects across the Central Lands had all been discussing this, causing quite a stir. It was rumored that an undying old demon from the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow’s main branch had emerged specifically to investigate this matter.

A lively purple squirrel, a mysterious young man—all matching the characteristics of that great spiritual power. These people felt a wave of dizziness—truly, a great figure had descended here.

They bowed once more in reverence, making Ye Fan somewhat uncomfortable—these old Daoist priests were far older than him in years, and even during his time dominating the Big Dipper, he had never enjoyed such treatment.

He told them all to rise, and further told Guo Zhen to treat him just as before, with no need to fear anything—he wasn’t some ancient being who had lived for countless years.

Upon hearing this, everyone immediately caught the meaning—this was clearly a modern person, not a great spiritual power who had survived from ancient times. That he could achieve such accomplishment made it all the more shocking.

Guo Zhen slowly relaxed, while the four acquaintances sighed inwardly, deeply realizing that fortune sometimes hinges on the turn of a single moment—and they had let it slip away just like that.

The dozen or so old Daoist priests unanimously stepped forward, requesting Ye Fan lecture on the Dao and resolve their doubts, passing on some cultivation methods. Ye Fan, being addressed as “senior” over and over, especially by those two or three hundred years old, felt somewhat guilty himself. So he ascended the platform, seriously lecturing on scriptures, drawing directly from what he had just captured, inscribing those Dao ripples into the void—scriptures filling the sky, each character shimmering with divine radiance.

“Could this be the fifth volume of the ‘Lingbao Scarlet Book of Jade Instructions’? How is it even clearer than what’s recorded in our sect’s secret grounds—truly complete and flawless.” The people of the Lingbao Sect were astonished, their hearts surging with waves of emotion, unable to calm down.

Ye Fan admitted candidly that this was an imprint he had discovered within the platform—that this had originally been their own possession, left behind by ancient sect leaders lecturing on the Dao.

“We beg senior to please travel to our sect’s secret grounds, to pass on the lost teachings,” several Daoist priests said excitedly, bowing.

Ye Fan nodded—he had precisely this intention. This place held none of the Nine Secrets; he had already searched thoroughly. Perhaps the Lingbao secret grounds truly held one after all. At the same time, he wanted to ask these people about the matter of the demonic god bloodline—this time, he intended to thoroughly determine the truth behind the mystery of the real and fake Pang Bo, no matter what.