In the cosmos, the celestial river blazed with brilliance — and yet amidst this boundless star region, traces of life were relatively rare, nearly negligible compared to the vast celestial expanse.

In such a great star region, the discovery of any trace of life was a momentous event.

Ye Fan stood in the starry void, surveying the cosmic sea of stars, gazing at the sun, moon, and celestial river. Compared to the celestial bodies of the universe, humanity was truly humble and minute — a brief lifetime no more than the blink of an eye as the stars turned.

And yet, it was precisely this minute humanity that could at times grow powerful enough to overturn heaven and earth, to ride and govern this cosmos, to become the supreme and omnipotent master of all.

The life star opposite this place corresponded to the Sovereign Physique’s burial ground here. Calculated through Source Art principles, at regular intervals they would rotate into an extraordinary position — and when that moment arrived, a magnificent and spectacular phenomenon would appear in this stretch of starry space.

“This is a pair of corresponding poles, using the stars themselves as pieces on a board, manipulating the vast heavens and earth, transforming them into a configuration of one’s choosing. What bold and sweeping vision — astonishing through all the ages!” Ye Fan exclaimed with a long sigh. He asked himself whether he could currently do this, and acknowledged that this kind of configuration was truly astounding — it had seized the creation of the sun, moon, and stars. What could be its ultimate purpose?

The Fiftieth Pass of the human race was a special place, a variable within the Grand Deduction. And now someone had laid down such a vast and immense legacy, one that set the mind drifting in endless contemplation.

Ye Fan stood in the starry void, silently deducing, continuously calculating with Source Arts, then spread his fingers and sprinkled a handful of Celestial River Divine Sand — gleaming point by point, treated as stars to be arranged.

He incorporated the stars of this region, including the meteorite clusters, all into his calculations and arranged a small star chart, manifesting the vast stretch of starry space.

Star by star he illuminated them, star by star he positioned them. When sun and moon overlapped, when the planets turned, when a particular special moment was reached — the celestial bodies arrayed themselves into the configuration of this place.

“It is truly beautiful and brilliant,” Yang Xi said, eyes wide and fixed on the expanse of Celestial River Divine Sand — a miniature starry sky that sent the little one’s imagination soaring.

Ye Fan had not kept him inside the Myriad Phenomena Mother Qi Cauldron the entire time. As long as there was no danger, he would let him remain within his golden sacred domain, traveling at his side to broaden his horizons.

“Indeed. A vision this grand and sweeping is truly beautiful. I would imagine that of all the outstanding figures of past and present who have come here, each would have been won over, conceding they could not compare.” Ye Fan said.

The spread of Celestial River Divine Sand had simulated the true scene of this stretch of starry space at that particular special moment — carefully calculated and deduced by him, a sight worthy of the word spectacular.

This was actually an enormous Yin-Yang diagram. The two life-bearing stars — the burial ground of the Sacred Body and the burial ground of the Blood of the Sovereign Sky — served as the two yin and yang points of this colossal ancient diagram.

“When the sun explodes and is destroyed, releasing its energy in full — this vast diagram will truly open. It will then release an undying divine nature that illuminates this entire star region, and the ancient diagram will come alive.”

After hundreds and thousands of calculations, Ye Fan had used Source Arts to reconstruct this, though he was unable to deduce what consequences would follow the ancient diagram coming alive. He could not project forward to that step.

“Something so vast — all of it arranged by human hands? Perhaps they left behind some traces and clues,” the little troublemaker offered his youthful opinion. He was inside the golden sacred domain, able to speak and breathe, completely unaffected by the cold of the void of space.

In the half month that followed, Ye Fan moved throughout this stretch of starry space, exploring without cease. Every dragon vein of both life-bearing ancient stars bore the mark of his footsteps — even within the sun itself could his silhouette be found.

With an arrangement this vast, the most labor-saving approach was naturally to work with the natural configuration. The area with the most obvious human-made traces was the meteorite clusters.

There were many meteorite clusters, scattered discontinuously. At the specific moment when they connected, they would form a curving yin-yang line, dividing this vast ancient celestial diagram.

After finding nothing at the poles and the sun, Ye Fan moved to the key position within the great divine diagram — the Dao-Trace curved line — for it was important, and perhaps the only place where something might be found.

Suddenly, just as he approached a meteorite comparable in size to a star, Ye Fan’s entire body jolted. Every inch of him ached, as though countless steel needles were trying to pierce outward through his skin.

“Oh no!” The little troublemaker cried out in alarm at the sight.

These were red hairs, one after another — but the moment they appeared, Ye Fan suppressed them. The golden blood within his body accelerated its flow, his divine power blazing fiercely, and this affliction was strangled in its cradle.

The yin-yang dividing line of the celestial Taiji ancient diagram was composed of countless meteorites — but at present it had not yet formed a line, as the specific moment had not yet come. They were scattered across different regions.

Ye Fan had only stepped onto the outermost edge of one enormous meteorite and already encountered such an ominous sign. He steadied his focus and carefully landed on this fragment of a shattered star.

He could confirm that whoever had laid down this heaven and earth configuration far exceeded him in Source Art mastery many times over. The path of Source Arts he had walked still had a far way to go.

In the Eastern Desolation, several of the Source Heavenly Masters in their later years had created various techniques to perfect the Source Heavenly Book, demonstrating that they, too, knew this path could extend even further.

This meteorite was pitted and uneven, covered in fractures, with swathes of Source Heavenly veins across it. After Ye Fan landed here, he felt a chill press in from all directions. His gaze paused — for ahead, he could make out a figure.

There was an ancient platform. Upon it, a gaunt figure sat cross-legged, absolutely motionless. With every step Ye Fan took closer, his body would ache more sharply, resonating with something.

When he arrived before the figure, he saw the person’s true appearance — skin the color of wax, withered and dried, wrapped around the bones. The body had not moved for who knew how many years.

“Pre-Primordial attire…” Ye Fan murmured to himself. Over these years, he had read many ancient texts and come to understand the characteristics of many eras. This was a person of the Primordial Age.

If his guess was correct, this was very likely an ancestor of the Source Heavenly Master lineage. Within the corpse’s body there was a faint dark nether energy. The moment Ye Fan began probing it, the body immediately crumbled into dust.

The passage of time had been far too long. Over such immense ages, even the remains of ordinary Saints would be reduced to ash, the residual laws within them forcibly dissolved away by the Great Dao. Even the undying has a time limit.

This massive meteorite bore some Source Heavenly veins — though they too had been mostly destroyed. Ye Fan made his way along this ancient curved path and continued landing on other meteorite stars.

In this way he moved faster and faster, venturing immeasurably far from the Fiftieth City of the human race, growing increasingly desolate. He entered into a strange and ancient expanse.

One section of the discontinuous yin-yang dividing line after another, scattered in various places — Ye Fan missed not a single one, guided by his deductions. Along the way his body resonated several times.

“Uncle, there are more and more meteorite clusters. Do you think we’ll encounter any living things? I feel like there’s something watching us…” Yang Xi murmured, carefully surveying the meteorite stars all around.

Ye Fan rubbed his head, feeling deep admiration. This innate gift he had been born with was truly exceptional. The little troublemaker’s spiritual perception was astonishingly keen — able to sense the abnormality — which was truly remarkable.

In truth, Ye Fan had long since sensed it. What appeared to be a dead and desolate meteorite cluster was no barren wasteland. From the shadows, a pair of cold eyes had indeed appeared, watching.

“Halt right there!”

Ye Fan suddenly gave a sharp shout and launched himself forward without warning, his body becoming a bolt of lightning as he charged toward a ring-shaped mountain — a speed that would leave even Saint Kings far behind, capable only of amazement.

“Awoo…!” A soul-rending howl — piercing and harsh, immensely powerful, striking directly at one’s soul.

Five-colored divine light flashed behind Ye Fan. Five precious swords swept forward in unison, slashing ahead, and on the spot this humanoid creature was split apart, chopped into several segments.

This was an extraordinarily powerful creature — its entire body covered in black fur a full foot long, resembling a great ape. Yet it could never have been Ye Fan’s opponent and could only die in resentment.

“Uncle, is it a ghost?” The little troublemaker’s complexion went somewhat pale. Even with firm resolve, he was still very young and had never seen such things before.

“This appears to be a ghost ape!” Ye Fan explained patiently. Duan De had once mentioned this kind of creature — born in deeply yin ancient tombs, formed from the transformation of powerful corpses.

This was a living being. To explain it in mortal terms, one could loosely call it a ghost — though examined closely, the differences were vast.

Golden divine flames blazed around Ye Fan’s body, illuminating this place. The several segments on the ground writhed continuously. He stepped down upon them, reading the ghost ape’s divine sense.

“The immortal platform of its former life has long since rotted, leaving only a kind of instinct — only a faint blur of old memory. Wait… Yin soldiers… crossing through a star region?!” Suddenly, Ye Fan was enormously startled. He had seen this faint imprint, and his heart grew stern as he thought of many things.

He pointed a finger, and the full battle power of the Eighth Heavenly Layer of Saints was displayed without reservation. A streak of golden flame incinerated the ghost ape completely, leaving nothing behind.

Strange creatures had been left here — did this suggest that this vast celestial formation diagram had not been entirely abandoned and was still in use? The thought struck Ye Fan with a jolt. He felt as though he was about to seize hold of something extraordinary.

“Uncle, did you just capture a ghost?” Yang Xi cried out, eyes full of little stars, face full of admiration — clearly not yet truly immersed in the life of a cultivator.

“Once one walks the path of cultivation, what ghosts are there? This counts for nothing.” Ye Fan shook his head.

Several days later, they approached a particular meteorite star — one of heavy yin energy, so dense that sunlight and starlight could not penetrate the thick mist enveloping it. Below was a region of cold desolation.

When Ye Fan stepped onto this place, he immediately detected an abnormality. The ground was blanketed with bones, which crumbled into powder the moment they were trodden upon, becoming snow-white bone dust.

Crack! Crack!…

The yin mist was everywhere, thick and diffuse. From ahead amid the white bone ground came the sound of footsteps. A squad of soldiers clad in heavy armor marched past, carrying iron pikes and battle lances, exuding a chill-laden killing air.

“Yin soldiers!” Ye Fan was enormously startled, his heart shuddering violently. He suddenly recalled a series of familiar scenes. In the Eastern Desolation, in the Primordial Purgatory, tens of thousands of yin soldiers had appeared. The Source King of the Northern Region, with red fur covering his entire body, had appeared there in a brief moment of clarity and told him that he was there to escort yin soldiers in transit.

At the time, Ye Fan, Duan De, the Dark Emperor, and others had witnessed this with their own eyes — a line after line of yin soldiers, numbering tens of thousands, crossing an underworld river and entering a region of nether earth, gradually disappearing.

At the time, they had discussed where those people had gone, what kind of existences they were.

And now, Ye Fan had encountered similar yin soldiers again. The shock in his heart was immense. The yin soldiers were borrowing passage — this was clearly a military march spanning across star regions, campaigning toward some distant destination.

“A Source Heavenly Master covered in red fur, escorting yin soldiers in transit…” Ye Fan’s heart was shaken. This was clearly connected to the outer void — what kind of power could this possibly belong to? Without a doubt, the Source Heavenly Masters had played an extremely important role within all of this.