The Dragon Horse exhaled two columns of white vapor shaped like flood dragons from its nostrils. It held this place in reverence and did not dare to act recklessly — for once, it had grown unusually calm, no longer competing with Ye Fan.
Ye Fan circled the area, not daring to make any rash moves. Every step around the ten thousand-odd dragon-headed peaks was laden with deadly traps. Without the final fragment of the terrain map, there was no way to enter.
Little Pine chattered and muttered, almost unable to move its feet forward. In the immortal-nurturing ground ahead, it had spotted many ancient medicines — every one of them glowing translucently, each one blazing with brilliance, their pure fragrance drifting outward.
In all the long years past, few people had ever managed to penetrate this deep. After ages of nourishment by dragon energy and immortal light, this place had long since become spiritually aware. Every herb that had grown here was priceless beyond measure.
All ten thousand-odd mountain peaks were shaped like dragon heads — each one vividly lifelike, radiating dragon might that awed the senses, every single one born naturally from the forces of heaven and earth. It was as if the craft of gods had been at work.
Every dragon-headed peak bore precious medicines upon it, gleaming and brilliant as coral and pearl carvings, dazzling to behold. Never mind Little Pine — even the Dragon Horse’s eyes had gone a little glassy, and it was swallowing mouthful after mouthful of saliva.
These ten thousand-odd dragon-headed peaks were all supreme treasures. Their mountain rock could serve as divine materials for weapon refinement, to say nothing of the medicines that grew upon them.
Ye Fan couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. By exhausting so many life-bearing ancient stars, this immortal-nurturing ground had been created — one could only say that it had truly stolen the workings of heaven and earth, filling any heart that beheld it with awe and reverence.
Just in this brief moment, he had already spotted dozens upon hundreds of Medicine Kings — wreathed in immortal energy, their entire bodies radiating treasure light, beckoning to one’s very soul.
Medicine Kings were extraordinarily difficult to cultivate. They required constant irrigation with the spiritual milk of the great earth, and only after growing for eighty thousand years or more could they be called Medicine Kings.
Who could possibly wait so long? Eighty or ninety thousand years — even the lifespans of the ancient great emperors would have come to their end long before such a time. It was nearly impossible to cultivate them.
Only a place like this could do it — drawing in the life essence of an entire ancient star, nurturing them through endless long ages, before finally giving rise to such great numbers.
Ye Fan observed carefully. This terrain layout was so utterly extraordinary as to verge on the impossible. He probed with the highest-level source arts, yet could not find the slightest trace of human intervention.
Even so, he had a sense — a premonition born of his instincts as an inheritor of the Heavenly Master of Origins — that however transcendent this place was, it could not have reached this level entirely on its own.
Faintly, he felt that at some point in the past, someone had used heaven-defying methods to cultivate all of this. Then, scoured by the long river of time for millions of years, it had ultimately transformed into something entirely natural — indistinguishable from what the heavens themselves had made.
He was searching for a weak point. Without the ninth fragment of the terrain map there was no way in, yet he was deeply unwilling to give up. He wanted to find a way through using his own mastery of source arts.
Little Pine, medicine basket on its back, walked with its head turning back every other step, too distracted to pay attention to where it was going. The little creature was itching to leap straight in and spend a happy day gathering all the ancient medicines it could find.
The Dragon Horse too was exhaling dragon breath from its mouth and nostrils, temporarily setting aside its “grievances” with Ye Fan. Its pair of dragon eyes were wide open and gleaming constantly, silently calculating — wondering whether it might use its great divine abilities to get hold of some “grass.”
When they circled around to the other side, Ye Fan gave a start. He had come across another “divine miracle” — not far ahead was a small expanse of star domain, gleaming and dazzling.
This divine miracle was not in front of the ten thousand dragon-headed peaks but still within this safe territory. Embedded in the surface of a great boulder were several dozen fist-sized stars, casting a soft and gentle radiance.
Ye Fan was certain these were real stars — refined and miniaturized by someone, for he could sense an overwhelming aura radiating from them, pressing down upon him until he nearly couldn’t breathe.
What heaven-defying power was this? His heart prickled with unease. Dozens of stars placed here as adornments, guarding the boulder — it could only inspire shock and a sharp intake of cold breath.
As they drew slightly closer, the dozens of stars floated upward, unfolding into a miniature star domain. The starlight blazed in splendor, and the boulder within became endlessly distant — as though it stood at the other end of the universe.
This was the ability to connect heaven and earth. One could only submit in admiration. They retreated, wary of causing unnecessary trouble, and studied the characters carved on the stone wall from a distance.
“I am going to die — who… can help me look after my little sister?”
Whoever had carved the words seemed to have been at the very end of their life’s energy. The cuts were careless and rough; some places were blurred almost beyond reading, carrying a sense of despair and of things left undone.
“The Fierce One’s older brother — he really did come to this place.” Ye Fan murmured to himself.
The stars wheeled, and a scene emerged — like a replay of history, made manifest in the mortal world by the power of the stars.
A blurred silhouette appeared, speaking to himself in a murmur, as though unable to let go of something on the other side of the starry sky, his hand stroking a ghost-face mask, utterly forlorn.
“The divine blood, the demon blood, and the Buddha blood have all been poured upon it — my turn is coming soon. Dying is not what frightens me; what I cannot bear is — who will look after my little sister? She is still so young, and I cannot set my heart at ease.”
This blurred silhouette pleaded with those beside him: if they could ever return to the other side of the starry sky, please — do not forget; help him raise his little sister to adulthood.
Ye Fan fell silent. This must be the Fierce One, who after attaining the Dao had sought out this place and used her awe-inspiring divine power to reconstruct this scene from long ago. Such a sight as this must have shattered her heart and bowels.
In the end, she had plucked stars and seized moons, refining a miniature star domain to guard these final words and this last thread of longing — leaving this boulder here forever, undying alongside the world itself.
Passing this spot, Ye Fan circled the central immortal-nurturing ground a full circuit, thinking carefully, then began carving calculations into the earth, computing with source arts.
It was not long before his forehead was beaded with sweat and his heart had gone cold. The source arts of this place had exceeded his understanding — surpassing even the Heavenly Master of Origins. This was natural, wondrous principle — every piece of the terrain here was meticulous, as though heaven itself had laid it out.
Yet he knew the killing traps had been introduced by human hands.
The deadly configuration formed by the terrain was one thing — what gave him the greater headache was the Great Emperor’s killing formation. This place absolutely contained a complete, intact Imperial Formation. Triggering it would mean certain death for anyone who entered, regardless of who they were in this age.
Ye Fan pondered for a long while and found he could not set foot inside a single step. He could deduce a certain amount from the source arts of the Heavenly Master of Origins, but before the Great Emperor’s killing formation he was utterly without recourse. To have come this far and then turn back truly left him disheartened. He lingered for a long time, yet could find no way through.
For the next half month, he deliberated constantly. He took out everything he had on him, examining which items might help to break the formation.
In the end, Ye Fan fixed his gaze upon one object, and his heart stirred. It had been left behind by the Fierce One and had also once been held by the Sacred Emperor of Battle, the Sage King — it was absolutely a priceless treasure.
The Immortal Treasure Map. Ever since Ye Fan had obtained it, he had never once found a use for it. Later, he had consulted a saint for guidance, and the conclusion was that it might be a star domain map — for when activated with great power, it showed a scattering of stars upon it.
Ye Fan had pondered it for countless nights over the years, studying this map, yet had never gained any insight.
But at this moment, the map underwent a wondrous change. In this place, it began to radiate wisps of immortal light, enveloping him entirely within it.
“What is this…”
Ye Fan was greatly startled. The Immortal Treasure Map had always been crystalline, as though cast from starlight, yet now it was even more extraordinary. The front showed no change — when activated with great power, it still displayed only a scattering of stars, impenetrable and inscrutable. But the reverse side had undergone a transformation.
Little Pine’s large eyes spun round and round. It too crowded in for a look, peering with relentless curiosity, nearly plunging its head straight in.
Ye Fan quickly flipped the ancient scroll over. His heart hammered violently, for what he saw was a complete terrain map!
This map overlaid perfectly with the immortal map assembled from the bone fragments — with one single difference: one additional corner was present. It was whole and complete.
Ye Fan’s heart blazed with excitement. He gripped the Immortal Treasure scroll with both hands, terrified it might fly away, the blood throughout his body surging into a boil.
In the ancient era, the secret map that quasi-emperors and great sages had fought over had not been lost or fragmented at all — there had actually been a complete copy, and there was hope of entering the immortal-nurturing ground.
“Such an earth-shattering secret was hidden within this ancient scroll that has endured ten thousand ages — truly beyond all expectation!”
Ye Fan’s thoughts soared, and in this brief moment he contemplated a great deal. If his deductions were correct, those nine bone fragments must have been rubbed copies taken from this ancient scroll — this was the true original.
“It turns out the complete and intact secret map was beside me all along.” He felt a great deal of emotion.
Over these past years, he had mobilized every resource at his disposal — seeking the aid of the Central Earth’s Daoist sects, consulting Buddhism, traveling as far as India and Egypt and other ancient sacred sites, gathering bone fragment after bone fragment — and in the end, had still not been able to assemble a complete map.
Yet now, such an unexpected turn of events had arrived. It was truly beyond what he could have imagined — very much like the sudden realization: “I turned back, and there she was, in the dim light of the lanterns.”
At the same time, Ye Fan keenly noted a fact: the terrain map on the reverse side of the scroll occupied only one third of the space, as though two other important maps had yet to appear.
“What do the other two sections record — could there be something more important than this immortal-nurturing ground?” He couldn’t help but be astonished.
He studied it carefully and confirmed that the reverse side had three distinct regions — of that there was no doubt. The other two regions were unrelated to this terrain map.
“This truly is priceless beyond measure!” Ye Fan felt as though he were cradling an entire ancient star, so heavy was the weight.
The reverse side alone had three regions. One of them had had its mystery solved today — he now knew how supremely precious it was, for it was the immortal-nurturing ground!
And the front side, then — what value did it hold? Truly beyond imagination.
“Of course…” Ye Fan’s thoughts reached far.
This was without question something left behind by the ancient Celestial Court, passed down through an age beyond reckoning. Some ancient emperors had obtained it and studied it carefully.
The Monkey had once said: in the twilight of the primordial era, this scroll had belonged to his father. The Sacred Emperor of Battle, the Sage King, had often gazed upon this map in the deep of night, looking up at the starry sky.
Afterward, through the long passage of ages, this ancient scroll must have come to rest in the hands of the Feathered Transformation Divine Dynasty. Using it, they had rubbed copies onto bone fragments, allowing them to escort the hope of immortality here for restoration.
Later, the Feathered Transformation Divine Dynasty was reduced to apocalyptic ash in a single night, and this scroll fell into the hands of the Great Emperor, the Fierce One — giving rise to the spectacle of it drifting and bobbing within the Chaos’s sea of ten thousand dragons.
All of this formed a coherent sequence. Ye Fan let his thoughts wander through time. One could imagine that throughout the long ages, other sacred emperors and great emperors had also obtained this ancient scroll — they simply were not known to the world.
“This scroll is weightier than Mount Tai. It is possible that even the Undying Celestial Emperor once studied it.”
The son of the Celestial Emperor had once said that his father had also harbored the ambition of establishing a celestial court in those days — yet for unknown reasons, had ultimately never seen it through.
By now, Ye Fan could affirm with certainty: this object was absolutely an immortal treasure that had been transmitted from the now-dissolved ancient Celestial Court — a priceless, supreme marvel, heavier than the heavens themselves.
“For the moment, it is still all right — but if any figure of an ancient great emperor’s level were to appear, this scroll would certainly be impossible to keep. Only such figures would know how truly important it is.”
Ye Fan studied it carefully, made a thorough comparison, and found a complex path of life — a way that could lead to the very deepest part of the immortal-nurturing ground!