Changbai Mountain, its terrain magnificent, coiling like a dragon, renowned since ancient times as one of China’s ten great famous mountains, with extremely high elevation, known as the “Roof of Northeast China.”
Though it was already late winter, approaching spring, the Changbai region remained blanketed in heavy snow, a sheet of silver-white, snow several feet deep.
“A thousand years of accumulated snow, ten thousand years of ancient pines, rising directly to become the world’s first peak!”
This was praise from ancient poets, yet it indirectly described the magnificence and splendor of this place. Snow covered everything; sometimes stepping into it could bury a person entirely.
The snow peaks stood majestic, one after another, quite spectacular. The rocks on the mountain were distinctive, mostly white pumice, different from elsewhere.
Ancient pine trees, no one knew how many years they had grown, towered thick and sturdy. In this uninhabited region, tree kings would often appear, tall and massive enough to be frightening, like small mountains themselves.
Little Pine became especially lively here, its silky, satin-like purple fur even more crystalline against the white snow’s backdrop. It ran back and forth, jumping around, searching for pine cones.
“That’s odd, why does this old forest seem to go deeper the further we walk, much larger than expected.” Guo Zhen was astonished, feeling that after entering deep into Changbai Mountain, something felt off. The terrain grew increasingly treacherous, the landscape more primitive, the snow peaks absurdly tall.
Ye Fan said nothing, carefully searching for something, occasionally closing his eyes to sense with his heart. The path he chose was quite rugged, sometimes having to traverse sheer cliff faces.
Guo Zhen didn’t dare disturb him, knowing this must be breaking through some formation—this place must have an ancient array from antiquity, and Ye Fan was trying to enter a mysterious uninhabited zone.
Suddenly, heaven and earth seemed to invert, the scenery changing entirely. A more open wilderness appeared, goose-feather snow dancing down, a desolate atmosphere sweeping over them—they had entered an unknown, primeval snow mountain region.
“Something’s different—I can guarantee this region can’t be found on any map. Where exactly have we ended up?” Guo Zhen was uncertain and alarmed.
Since leaving Mount Gezao, he had traveled together with Ye Fan the whole way. Having grown familiar with each other, he wasn’t as restrained as those elder figures of the Lingbao Sect who treated Ye Fan with cautious deference.
Ye Fan felt his character wasn’t bad, and had intentionally been giving him pointers, which was why he had brought him and Little Pine along into Changbai Mountain, traveling together.
“This is what real Changbai Mountain should look like. I too expended considerable effort to make my way in here—there are ancient formations guarding it, and some places mortals can never enter,” Ye Fan said.
Guo Zhen was astonished, believing his words, because he noticed the pine trees were remarkably massive—at the very least, no one had logged here in over a thousand years, stretching one after another, without a trace of human presence.
“Aoooo…”
A tiger’s roar shook the area for dozens of li, snow cascading down from the pine trees, nearly burying Little Pine alive.
The little purple creature had been digging under the snow for pine nuts when it suddenly pulled out a tiger’s tail. A massive striped tiger leapt up from the snow, turning its head to let out a great roar.
Little Pine, startled by this sudden roar, had its crystal-purple fur stand entirely on end. Its little paws clutched at its chest, its whole body puffed up, and it scampered backward in retreat.
“Such a massive tiger—this is truly astonishing. Its body length must be nearly four meters, its weight absolutely seven or eight hundred pounds—has this tiger become a spirit?” Guo Zhen exclaimed.
“This isn’t even that strange. Siberian tigers are naturally large, far exceeding other tiger species. During the former Soviet era, they captured specimens of this exact size more than once—it’s all documented,” Ye Fan said.
Little Pine came to its senses, seeming to feel it had lost quite a bit of face. After all, it was a spiritually cultivated creature. It lay there swaying its little head, mimicking a tiger’s roar.
“Aooo… yi ya!”
Both Ye Fan and Guo Zhen were amused—this was simply too adorable-sounding. Although it had struck the pose of a tiger’s roar, the sound was far too outlandish, only describable with one word: cute.
The little purple creature deflated, lowering its head in embarrassment, feeling it lacked any imposing presence itself.
However, the Siberian tiger turned and fled—for its size to be considered this rare was already remarkable, but having sensed some spiritual quality, it felt the squirrel was somehow uncanny, and its heart filled with fear.
They continued deeper, trudging through thick snow, advancing through the deep mountains. Before long, they encountered an even larger wild tiger in the forest, five or six meters long, its weight surely close to two thousand pounds.
“This… it’s really becoming a spirit!” Guo Zhen exclaimed.
“Something is indeed off—this size is somewhat excessive, but it also suggests we’re getting close to our destination,” Ye Fan said, his pupils flashing with two beams of divine light.
“Xiu”
In the distance, a flash of purple light—they mistook it for another Little Pine, but it turned out to be a purple sable, clearly also possessing a trace of spiritual nature.
“That’s right, it seems we’ve reached the Dragon Cave region of Changbai Mountain. The creatures here have all been touched by dragon energy—quite extraordinary.”
Ye Fan had come this time seeking the Sky Kirin clan, one of the four great ancient demonic god clans, possessing an aura of dominion over the world, unfathomably profound.
The five-to-six-meter-long Siberian tiger, once subdued, carried the three of them onward, moving with tremendous force, kicking up great clouds of snow, leaping over ten meters in a single bound.
“There’s a mountain god temple over there—that’s really strange. This should be an uninhabited zone, so why would there be such a structure?”
As they approached, they could tell this building had stood for some time, at least several hundred years, its scale still quite grand.
Suddenly, a chilling wind swept past, and a bone-chilling cry rang out, especially eerie in this primeval old forest. A three-meter-long owl swooped out from the temple, its sharp claws grasping toward their heads.
“A demonic bird!” Guo Zhen startled, seeing the owl was far too large, its face bearing an eerie resemblance to a human’s.
Ye Fan pointed with a finger, freezing it in mid-air, extracting from its skull a ball of light formed from its sea of divine consciousness. After examining it, he continued onward.
Ahead lay a forbidden zone that ordinary spiritual beasts dared not approach, clearly the hidden dwelling of the Sky Kirin clan, dragon energy wafting in wisps from the several snow peaks ahead.
“Demonic energy, powerful demonic energy!” Guo Zhen’s face turned somewhat pale. After penetrating dozens of li deeper, even he could sense the demonic energy, let alone Ye Fan.
Amid those snow ridges, it seemed as if a white true dragon were coiling and turning, swallowing and spitting out the essence of heaven and earth, now visible now hidden, resembling a mountain range itself.
“Could that actually be a dragon?”
“It should be a jiao serpent of considerable cultivation depth. No wonder both the Jin and Qing dynasties regarded Changbai Mountain as their ancestral land of dragon rising—there really is something to it,” Ye Fan murmured to himself.
Historical records show that Emperor Shengzu of the Qing dynasty, leading the crown prince, various princes, and court officials, stood on the banks of the Songhua River facing southeast, gazing reverently at Changbai Mountain, performing the ritual of three kneelings and nine prostrations, personally declaring it the ancestral land where the dragon rose.
Moreover, the Qing emperor had once decreed Changbai Mountain a sacred mountain deity, ranked among the sacrifices to the Five Great Mountains, even later elevating it to a status higher than the Five Great Mountains themselves.
Later generations had more than once excavated ancient stone tablets from Changbai Mountain—the more recent ones from the Qing dynasty, earlier ones from the Jin dynasty, and even some mysterious dragon tablets from an unverifiable, even earlier era.
“When the Qing army entered the pass, they always claimed their dragon rose from Changbai Mountain—it seems quite a few things happened here back then,” Ye Fan continued forward. At his level of cultivation, he dared venture even into a dragon’s lair or a tiger’s den.
They walked into this legendary land of the rising dragon, a majestic range of snow peaks towering before them, one particularly massive peak at the center, with an ancient cave at its base gushing forth wisps of dragon energy, several ancient pines standing tall, lending the place an air of ancient mystery.
“Who are you people, daring to trespass upon our clan’s forbidden ground?!” someone shouted loudly.
A dozen or so people walked out, wearing armor that gleamed with cold light, woven from scale-like metal plates, flowing with demonic energy, each exuding killing intent.
In this current era, encountering such people deep within a primeval mountain range would certainly leave an ordinary person dumbstruck, then trembling with fear.
Ye Fan had experienced far too much to be astonished by this. His expression remained calm as he said they had come to pay a visit, seeking an audience with the master of this place.
“The Sky Kirin—what kind of race is that?” Guo Zhen asked quietly, finding these people utterly bizarre, each one tall in stature, with overwhelming blood-energy within their bodies.
“Their ancestor was a heavenly serpent, ultimately becoming a demonic god whose depths no one in the world could fathom. Among his descendants, some chose to evolve into jiao dragons, others remained great serpents, hence the name Sky Kirin clan,” Ye Fan said—this was information he had learned from the Lingbao sect leader.
“That heavenly serpent…” Guo Zhen felt somewhat worried for Ye Fan, fearing that demonic god might still be somewhere in Changbai Mountain. If it hadn’t departed, that would spell serious trouble.
“At that level of cultivation, existing solely for the sake of the Dao, achieving immortality is their only pursuit. They should have departed long before the Age of Declining Dharma arrived,” Ye Fan speculated.
“Wishing to see the master of the Primordial Dragon Cave—state your name first. You should know not everyone in this world has the qualification to request an audience here!” the dozen or so people in scale armor shouted. Their hair was disheveled, their eyes intimidating, some even bearing dragon horns on their heads.
“Ye Fan.” He announced his own name.
“Never heard of it. State where you’re from, which sect you belong to—let’s see if you even qualify!” These people, hailing from the Primordial Dragon Cave, possessed bloodlines that ranked among the very best under heaven, naturally proud and arrogant, looking down on everyone else.
“I am the Master of the Celestial Court! Do I qualify?” Ye Fan said coldly, stepping forward. Wisps of golden blood-energy surged out, a terrifying pressure surging forward like a mountain, suffocating.
“Master of the Celestial Court… such big words…” These people had barely spoken these few words before they could say nothing more, all trembling, staring at Ye Fan in horror.
This young man, wreathed in golden blood-energy, made their hair stand on end, feeling as though they were facing an ancient demonic god. Trembling uncontrollably, they couldn’t help but kneel down.
Ye Fan didn’t press further either, his aura receding, becoming calm once more, blending into the natural surroundings, standing like a solitary green pine upon the snow.
“Master of the Celestial Court…” These people, having gotten back up, felt their hearts pounding with shock—someone actually dared claim this title? Were they not afraid of heaven’s wrath?
Especially on Earth, according to ancient legends, several great figures had once attempted to establish a Celestial Court, using this as their sect’s name, yet all had met with tragic ends.
These people said nothing further, their faces showing reverence, not daring to be negligent, bowing deeply before quickly going to report.
“Honored guests have arrived, forgive our lack of proper welcome, forgive us, forgive us!” A middle-aged man emerged from among the snow peaks, his hair white as snow, followed by a group of others.
Ye Fan was surprised—this person had reached the Dragon Transformation secret realm, according to the Lingbao sect leader’s words, a supreme expert of this era, capable of dominating the world.
He too stepped forward with a bow of courtesy, saying he had come uninvited, seeking this place and causing disturbance. Since the other party was being courteous, he naturally wouldn’t resort to force.
The visitor introduced himself as Bo Yi, younger brother of the Sky Kirin clan’s patriarch, possessing extraordinary bearing, his blood-energy quite formidable, with room still to grow.
Ye Fan secretly nodded, glancing at that distant Primordial Dragon Cave, auspicious energy continuously gushing forth—truly a marvelous place. It was no surprise one could achieve such cultivation here.
“My elder brother is in closed-door cultivation, hasn’t emerged in many years, unable to welcome guests. Please forgive us,” the Sky Kirin clan patriarch’s younger brother said.
“Brother Bo Yi, you’re too polite. I’ve disturbed everyone’s quiet cultivation—that’s my fault,” Ye Fan said.
Bo Yi led some clan members, welcoming Ye Fan into a cave mansion, built within a massive snow mountain, not the original Dragon Cave itself.
The moment they entered, Ye Fan felt a shock, sensing an extremely powerful aura. Little Pine grew tense as well, immediately grabbing tightly onto his sleeve.
Walking forward several dozen zhang, a massive space opened up before them—the entire mountain body was hollow, with spatial laws in effect, making this place extraordinarily vast.
“That is…”
Ye Fan saw an enormous heavenly serpent, coiled into the shape of a great mountain, filling this entire mountain interior. Without the spatial array, this serpent-mountain would have been several times taller than the snow mountain itself!
Guo Zhen was completely stunned—just how large must this serpent be? This was simply too shocking to comprehend.
The massive serpent’s mouth opened, utterly terrifying. It looked down from above, like a divine demon, pressing down with suffocating force!
Faintly, wisps of sacred might spread across heaven and earth. Only those of the utmost strength could truly perceive that kind of terror—clearly, it had been sealed!
“This is my ancestor’s shed skin,” Bo Yi explained.
It was actually the shed skin of the Sky Kirin clan’s ancestor—the peerless demonic god. No wonder even sealed, it still carried wisps of terrifying, resonating power.
Ye Fan nodded, saying nothing. Was the other party trying to give him a show of intimidation? He remained unmoved, following them as they proceeded forward.