Time flows on; the years pass like a shuttle.

In those days, they had been forced into the Ancient Forbidden Wilderness to gather medicinal herbs, each fleeing for their own survival, never to see one another again.

They all came from the other shore of the starry sky. It was the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin that had set it all in motion, drawing them into the vast universe, each walking a different road. A parting of decades, nearly a century — enough for a full human lifetime to end — and only today had they met again.

Both were overcome with endless feeling. In those days they had been in their prime, full of vigor and high spirits. Who could have imagined they would enter the starry sky and begin such a life?

“I remember your company’s performance was growing steadily — you were at the height of your ambitions, a man of great talent. And yet you became a missing person.” Ye Fan teased.

Wang Ziwen gave a bitter smile, then fell into a melancholy reverie. On the other shore of the starry sky, all the people their age should have returned to dust by now. Who could have foreseen that they would enter the celestial realm and come into contact with a civilization of gods and demons?

Such an experience would perhaps make many people back home envious. But having truly come to where they were today, how many could truly understand their state of mind?

Immortality was elusive, and the immortal road showed no mercy. As the years passed, what remained in their hearts was a certain feeling — how could they forget the past? Too many things lingered there to be cherished.

Old friends and former times — one scene after another — and arriving at today, they found that the deepest memories of their hearts all lay on the other shore of the starry sky, not on the splendors of this side.

In college, Wang Ziwen had been an active presence. After graduating, through a period of hard work and struggle, he had built a thriving career of his own. He was worldly and astute in handling all manner of affairs. Yet now, even his words came out slightly trembling — he was deeply moved.

Drifting alone in a foreign land, he had fought alone on this ancient star without a single old friend, without a single familiar face. There had been a period of bitter hardship.

Stars sparkled, and a silver moon hung slanted in the sky. They came to the back garden, set up tables and chairs, drank wine beneath the moon, and talked about their respective years of experiences.

The moonlight was hazy. In this garden, artificial mountains had been arranged, and beneath a small white stone arch bridge, a stream babbled gently past, its koi fish flicking their tails. Many fine trees had been planted, and some flowers and grasses gave off a delicate fragrance, carried over on the breeze.

The entire compound belonged to Wang Ziwen. This grand city had been built by his own hands. He had shed his blood here, survived many great life-and-death battles, and had finally managed to establish a firm foothold on this ancient life land.

“The Northern Dipper is just a waystation to me. It is so vast — the destination of ancient Great Emperors in their final years — and yet I never even got to take a proper look at it.”

Wang Ziwen felt somewhat rueful. He had never left the Yan Kingdom, limited to a single grotto-heaven. Later, pressed by several great sacred grounds to go into the Ancient Forbidden Wilderness to gather medicinal herbs, he left — and never returned.

“The immortal palace is extraordinary. I suspect it was not an immortal land at all, but rather something left behind by an ancient Great Emperor. Only now that I’ve become a Saint can I truly appreciate how remarkable it was inside.”

Ye Fan listened attentively. He could offer no opinion on this — he deeply regretted it. He had never entered that place, and had no affinity with it.

“As for me, Zhou Yi, Lin Jia, and Zhang Ziling — we had no twists or turns, no dramatic adventures inside the immortal palace. After we entered, we never encountered a single danger. I obtained a purple-gold gourd containing some broken pill fragments. Everything I’ve accomplished today, I owe entirely to those fragments.”

Wang Ziwen concealed nothing. The sharp shrewdness of the past had diminished, replaced by sincerity. After so many years apart, even old grudges, whatever they might have been, had long since worn away in the passage of time.

Inside the immortal palace, he had walked for a long time and discovered an altar upon which rested a purple-gold gourd — not a trace of dust upon it despite the long years. He took it into his hands. On the altar surface were some ancient characters, which noted it as a failed batch of Nine-Transformation Immortal Pills.

The gourd contained some broken pill fragments. The instant he pulled out the stopper, he felt as though he could shed his mortal shell and ascend — the pores all over his body dilated and contracted.

At that time Wang Ziwen was still a low-level cultivator, yet even he could tell this was definitely a great medicinal batch, likely of incalculable value. He then searched carefully, hoping to find more divine objects in the immortal palace.

“Without noticing, I stepped onto an intricate pattern — it was an altar. And just like that, inexplicably, I was brought to this star.” Wang Ziwen shook his head.

As for the others, in his estimation, if they had not appeared since, it was likely they had suffered a similar experience — inexplicably stepping onto a path leading beyond the heavens.

“When we first entered the immortal palace, I was walking alongside Zhou Yi. Later we entered different grand halls separately. I remember that at the moment I crossed over, I saw a great Eight Trigrams sigil flashing in the grand hall where he was — very magnificent.”

Upon hearing this, Ye Fan murmured to himself in surprise: “Zhou Yi, the Zhou Changes, the Eight Trigrams — that truly lives up to the name.”

Back then, there had been no harrowing battles, no twists and turns — only the inexplicable act of stepping onto a strange array platform, which had transmitted them into the star domains.

Each person’s encounter was different. One step taken, and the stars shifted, the years passed — separated by a vast and boundless universe, they had each lived a different life.

“I truly never imagined — you’re already close to becoming a Saint King. I thought with the Nine-Transformation Immortal Pill fragments, my progress had already been extraordinarily unnatural.” Wang Ziwen said.

Ye Fan had nothing to hide from an old friend. He had merely reined in the austere, dominating aura about him — otherwise the presence accumulated through so many years of bloody battle was deeply intimidating.

“Of all our old friends, aside from you, Zhang Ziling, Lin Jia, and Zhou Yi, I know the whereabouts and fates of the rest.” Ye Fan spoke of much from the past, mentioning Pang Bo, Zhang Wenchang, Li Xiaoman, and others.

Wang Ziwen sighed with emotion. After so many years apart, many of them had died — they could never be seen again.

Ye Fan said: “Lin Jia was hunted by Liu Yinzhi, Li Changqing, and Wang Yan. In the end she escaped that disaster, but she never appeared again. I suspect she is no longer in the Northern Dipper either — otherwise she should have come to find me.”

“Perhaps one day you will meet Zhang Ziling, Zhou Yi, and Lin Jia again. Truly no telling how they are now.” Wang Ziwen said.

He found it inconceivable that Ye Fan had been able to ascend to the celestial domain and enter the depths of the universe. The starry sky was simply too vast. That they could meet again here was something that could be called a miracle.

“You went back to Earth?” When Wang Ziwen heard Ye Fan recount his experiences, he leapt to his feet, his chest heaving.

Ye Fan gave a nod. “Yes. It was like waking from a dream — there was only regret and sorrow.”

“Did you see my family? How were they?” Wang Ziwen asked urgently, looking at him with eager eyes.

“I went to visit them. At the time, your parents were still well. I left a few things behind. But human power cannot reverse heaven’s will. I imagine by now they have long since passed through their final years.”

Wang Ziwen’s eyes blurred with tears. They rolled down. A dream of a hundred years — what remained when he turned and looked back?

He choked with emotion, turned his back, looked up at the starry sky, and wept silently, standing there for a very long time. His daughter stepped forward and wiped away his tears. Only after a long while did he finally calm.

“Do you want to go back?” Ye Fan asked.

“I do. But there are things on this side I cannot bear to leave behind. I have already lost too much, and cannot keep losing.” He looked toward his two children, his eyes filled with tenderness. “They were born here. They are not suited to life on Earth. I am an unfilial son… I will go back. But I will also come back.”

After a long time, the two of them began to speak of other things, and Wang Ziwen’s emotions at last settled.

Ye Fan learned that this life land was extremely flourishing — three Great Sages actually presided over it. One had to remember that it was not especially vast, and its area was limited.

Moreover, this was not a trial ground on the ancient road through the starry sky. In the past, no unusual visitors had descended upon it. It was only because the ancient star at the Human Race’s Thirtieth Pass had been shattered that this place was temporarily borrowed.

“Uncle, I drink to you.” Wang Xi was the very picture of youthful radiance, with every lively trait of a young girl, flitting about like a songbird.

By comparison, Wang Chen was far more composed and mature.

As a person of the same generation, Wang Ziwen had children this grown — it stirred a wave of feeling in Ye Fan, followed by some teasing, and naturally there was no shortage of gifts that an uncle ought to give.

He presented Wang Chen with a sword whose radiance soared to the heavens. Now that Ye Fan could shatter Saint artifacts with his bare hands, what he kept in his possession was naturally extraordinary. This was the Holy Sword of Yao Guang — seized during a fierce battle with Yao Guang’s Dao avatar on the eve of his slaying of the Celestial Prince — and it carried an immortal divine nature.

As for Wang Xi’s gift, it was naturally also a rare Saint artifact — he would not show favoritism between them.

The brother and sister were overjoyed, offering thanks repeatedly. They held the two Saint artifacts with deep fondness, examining them carefully and with great reverence. These were Saint artifacts that could endure imperishably.

Wang Ziwen was moved, saying repeatedly that the gifts were too precious.

Ye Fan shook his head. He had shattered even rarer ancient weapons along the way. He changed the subject and asked: “What trouble have you run into?”

“It all comes down to this.” Wang Ziwen produced a purple-gold gourd, roughly a foot in height, glowing with purple-gold radiance, quite resplendent.

Over all these years, the broken pill fragments within the gourd had contributed enormously to his reaching where he was today. These were divine medicines!

In Ye Fan’s view, Nine-Transformation Immortal Pills were virtually unheard of in the world. But a great medicine worthy of being named as such — even if noted as a failed batch — was absolutely extraordinary, beyond doubt.

Wang Ziwen cherished his two children deeply. When they were very young, he had used the broken pill fragments to help them establish their foundation. By now, the two of them had developed astonishing cultivation, far surpassing ordinary people their age. In time they would surely achieve Saint-hood.

It was precisely this that had stirred the covetousness of the outside world. Several great super-powers had searched and inquired from many sides, and finally discovered the existence of the purple-gold gourd — and were now targeting them.

Wang Ziwen said: “The broken pill fragments were exhausted several years ago. All that remains is this gourd, which is also a supreme treasure — it can swallow ten thousand li of mountains and rivers, and suppress Saints.”

“If Grandfather hadn’t run into trouble in his closed-door cultivation, how would they dare to bully us? They’re all despicable!” Wang Xi puffed up her cheeks in anger, her large eyes glaring, her rosy cheeks flushed.

Wang Ziwen’s brow tightened with a hidden worry. He caught Ye Fan’s gaze, and a trace of awkward color appeared on his face.

“My father-in-law is very powerful — just one step short of becoming a Great Sage. But he was too eager for success, ran into problems with his cultivation, and now cannot exert his strength. Some great enemies are seizing this moment to cause trouble.”

He explained this with great seriousness — he had walked to where he was today on his own, not because he had married into a good family — which drew a burst of laughter from Ye Fan.

Just then, a beautiful woman entered, walking into the garden — dignified and graceful, though she wore a slight look of worry. Wang Ziwen introduced her: this was his wife, a jewel of this ancient life land.

In the past, Wang Ziwen’s performance had been brilliant — his breakthroughs were constant, and he was considered to have unlimited potential. This had caught the eye of the Saint King Lin Han, who agreed to Wang Ziwen’s marriage with his daughter.

Lin Han — an existence at the absolute peak of the Saint King level — had already taken more than half a step beyond the hundred-foot pole. Only the narrowest margin separated him from becoming a Great Sage. He was one of this ancient star’s future supreme beings.

“Father ran into a mishap in his cultivation. Not only has it not improved, but there are signs of deterioration.” Lin Ling’s eyes were misty with tears.

Calamities were piling up on their doorstep. Not only were people coveting their divine pill fragments, but an utterly formidable enemy was seizing this moment to wipe out their entire clan — to kill them completely and leave no one behind.

Beset by internal trouble and external threats, Wang Ziwen’s Saint-realm combat power was simply insufficient to withstand this oncoming storm. No matter how strong and brilliant he was, he was no match for what was coming. Among those poised to invade would be veteran Saint Kings.

“If there is no other way, we will leave with Ye Fan and set foot upon the starry road.” Wang Ziwen said, looking toward his children and wife.

If given the choice, who would willingly leave their home behind?

But they were being driven to this point. If they did not leave, they might be bathed in blood and slaughtered — the entire clan wiped out.

“The South Sea Dragon King is willing to lend his aid, but he has his misgivings. He fears that several Saint Kings too powerful to overcome may appear.” Wang Chen said.

Ye Fan reassured them — there was no need to worry too much.

In the deep of night when all was still, Ye Fan and Wang Ziwen talked for nearly half the night in the back garden, gazing up at the starry sky, recounting their various experiences to one another.

Meeting an old friend in a foreign land made everything feel warm and close.

Wang Xi yawned continuously yet refused to leave. She sat there listening to them speak of all manner of strange and wondrous things. Even Wang Chen repeatedly fell into a trance, deeply yearning for what he heard.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Suddenly, a sound like a roaring tide came from the horizon. A group of savage riders charged forward, trampling across the sky, shattering the high heavens. Their iron armor flashed with a cold gleam, their mounts emanated ferocious energy, great banners snapped in the wind, their weapons were terrifying — they bore straight down upon them.

“Where is Wang Ziwen?!” A middle-aged man at the front bellowed loudly.

“They’ve come. Never expected the He Family to be the first to lose patience and come to slaughter us.” Lin Ling said, rising to her feet, shielding her two children behind her, her emotions stirring with great worry.

“Let us go up and see.” Wang Ziwen shot up into the sky. Lin Ling, their two children, and the many powerful figures of the household also rose into the night sky.

“Uncle Wang, for disturbing you so late at night — we are somewhat presumptuous, and ask your forbearance.” A young man stepped forward, handsome in appearance, clasping his hands in salute. “I heard that Uncle Wang’s household has run into trouble, and ran over especially to offer assistance.”

“The He Family is truly shameless. They’ve harbored ill intentions all along, and they are the first to move against us — yet they put on this sanctimonious act.” Wang Xi was the most straightforward, incapable of containing herself. She immediately pulled her face into a scowl.

“Little sister Xi, that is a misstatement. We came in good faith to offer help — how can you speak of us so uncharitably?” The handsome young man He Qingyang said mildly, then his expression suddenly became one of grave solemnity as he bowed to Wang Ziwen again. “My He Family wishes to form an alliance with Uncle Wang.”

“On what terms?” Wang Ziwen had weathered great winds and great waves. He was naturally unshaken by events, and even with a clan-extermination catastrophe looming, he remained perfectly composed.

“Tonight we have come to call upon your household with a proposal of marriage. I wish to wed little sister Xi. From this day on, our two clans will be as one, sharing prosperity and adversity together.” He Qingyang said.

Wang Xi’s brows immediately shot upward in fury. She clenched her small fists, furious beyond measure.

Wang Ziwen’s face darkened. He understood full well that the other side intended to destroy them — yet he had not expected them to be this shameless. They wanted to legally swallow everything belonging to the Wang Family and the Lin Clan, leaving not even bones behind.

“Uncle Wang is unwilling?” A few threads of coldness appeared on He Qingyang’s handsome face.

Wang Ziwen naturally had no fear of him — but the He Family was a colossus. Moreover, word had it that this time they had also summoned several old demons and ancient beasts from the Primordial Mountain Range, beings of supreme and formidable power.

“If you refuse, we will raze the Wang Family and the Lin Clan to the ground today!” A middle-aged man said with icy coldness.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Just then, a rumbling sound came again from the distance. Several ancient beasts and a few foreign-race cultivators came charging through the sky, slicing across the heavens — it was Long Ma, the Nine-Tailed Crocodile Dragon, and the rest of the twelve Saints. They had not followed Ye Fan into the compound.

“Who are you people?!” He Qingyang demanded, a wave of alarm rising in his heart. On the opposite side, it appeared that several were Saint-realm powerhouses.

Ye Fan stood at a distance, instructed Long Ma, and said in a cold voice: “Flatten them all for me.”