The bronze furnace was mottled with rust. Its lid shook and rattled with a clanging sound, as if it might be flung open at any moment.
Everyone was forced to step back. A bronze furnace sealed by the quasi-emperor Shakyamuni — the heavens alone knew what was inside. By its shape, it bore a strong resemblance to a Demon-Refining Furnace.
If nothing unexpected had occurred, it was quite possible that an ancient primordial demon sage was being suppressed within!
“Why is it so fragrant?”
The one unexpected thing was that a clear fragrance would occasionally drift out from within the furnace. Little Pine had been the first to notice, lost in absolute delight, not afraid in the slightest. Its little nose, like a purple diamond, twitched eagerly, as if it might float off into the heavens.
“What is actually going on?” Ye Fan asked.
The several gurus studied the stele inscription carefully, their expressions shifting from shock to a face full of excitement, then into boundless joy, nearly to the point of dancing with delight.
This was not in keeping with their customary bearing — normally they were composed and dignified, eminent monks of great renown. Evidently the bronze furnace was of enormous significance, to cause them to so completely lose their composure.
“This is a medicinal furnace!”
“A furnace of great medicine personally refined by the Lord Buddha Shakyamuni!”
With these words spoken, everyone present showed expressions of astonishment. A furnace of medicine left behind by a quasi-emperor — this was truly astounding, far beyond what any of them had anticipated.
“This is great medicine left behind by the Lord Buddha!”
One of the gurus repeated Buddhist chants ceaselessly, using them to mask his own excitement and loss of composure. The matter was of the greatest gravity, causing every single person’s heart to shake violently.
The inscription was in the most ancient foundational glyphs, requiring careful study to understand. The several gurus slowly translated it and read it aloud for everyone to hear.
Over two thousand years ago, Shakyamuni had once refined medicine here at Spiritual Mountain, intending to use the mountain’s dragon vein as flame to slowly nurture a furnace of great medicine to maturity, leaving it for those who came after.
However, this medicine was extraordinarily rare. The time required to refine it was beyond imagining — even by the day Shakyamuni departed, it had not yet formed into a pill and was still being gently nurtured.
“This is the great medicine of Buddhism — almost no one throughout history has ever managed to refine it. Its miraculous effects far surpass those of the Medicinal King!” One of the gurus said.
For hundreds of years it had been nurtured, slowly simmered using the vital essence of the dragon vein as flame, until even the spiritual nature of this sage-level medicinal furnace had been consumed — its divine spirit perishing — and still the great medicine had not formed.
Later, Shakyamuni entered the starry sky. He entrusted those who came after to continue watching over it, and said that one day it would surely be completed.
Yet hundreds more years passed. Spiritual Mountain gradually became withered and exhausted due to a shocking upheaval. The eminent monks of later generations could wait no longer, and were also preparing to enter the starry sky.
However, since the great medicine of Buddhism had not yet formed, if forcibly removed and the dragon fire of the earth’s veins replaced, the whole undertaking would fall apart at the final moment, the furnace might even explode, and everything would be destroyed.
In the end, the bodhisattvas and the rest of the Buddhist order all withdrew, leaving behind this stele inscription to explain matters. They sealed the entirety of Spiritual Mountain, hoping that one day the great medicine would be completed.
Everyone looked at one another in astonishment. This great medicine was consuming an unimaginable amount of time — it had required hundreds of years, and even the many eminent monks had been unable to wait it out, forced to depart in the end.
“This medicine was refined from the essence of the Undying Divine Tree.” One of the gurus cried out in shock, his finger pointing to the last line of the inscription, his hand trembling.
The primary ingredient was the essence of Buddhism’s one and only Bodhi Divine Tree!
In those ancient times, the Lord Buddha had used a section of the Undying Tree’s main trunk to make medicine, refining it into the bronze furnace. Evidently he intended to produce from it a furnace of peerless divine medicine.
This moved everyone. Shakyamuni had been experimenting — he had a divine tree, utterly unlike ordinary Bodhi trees, and had not hesitated to consume a section of its main trunk. This was undoubtedly an attempt to refine immortality medicine!
If he succeeded, it would mean that a single Undying Tree could one day yield four furnaces of great medicine, with its efficacy multiplied several times over.
“Whoever takes it, it belongs to them!” Long Ma was the first to act. It circulated its mysterious arts and spat a burst of vital essence, blasting the furnace lid open.
“Hiss!”
A streak of green radiance instantly shot up to the heavens. Moving with extreme speed. Everyone had a premonition that something was wrong — this great medicine had a spirit far too powerful. The moment the furnace lid was opened, it was attempting to flee. Everyone shot upward into the sky in pursuit.
Even Ye Fan was startled. He stepped on the character-formula technique, transforming himself into a bolt of lightning, reaching out with one hand to cover the medicine’s escape. Long Ma was a blaze of fire, opening its vast mouth — capable of swallowing an entire mountain.
Yet to everyone’s surprise, this great medicine was truly unusual. What had surged to the heavens was only a cloud of medicine mist — not its true form. This green cloud also carried powerful medicinal properties, and even high-level practitioners such as Ye Fan, the holy knight, and Long Ma had been deceived by it. The true great medicine remained below.
When the several great experts sensed this and plunged back down, they found the little purple creature blissfully cradling a small, vibrantly green sapling, completely lost in ecstasy. Long Ma came charging up with a kick, attempting to snatch it — and was promptly sent flying by one of Ye Fan’s slaps.
This was a medicinal pill unlike any other in form — not a perfectly round immortality elixir, but shaped in the likeness of a small Bodhi tree. It was about the height of a palm, vivid and radiant green throughout, glowing brilliantly against the small stone Buddha.
“The pill has formed!”
“This may well be the second furnace of great medicine from Buddhism with any known record!”
The first had been in the remote ancient era, beyond the bounds of human understanding, and no longer verifiable. But this furnace was real and right before their eyes — it had consumed the divine spirit of a sacred weapon and been simmered to completion using the vital essence of Spiritual Mountain’s dragon vein.
Ye Fan examined it carefully and found that the medicinal potency of this pill was extraordinarily powerful. Little Pine had simply been holding it, yet had already risen off the ground, floating upward. The rosy light was streaming into its mouth and nostrils, as if it were ascending to the heavens on rosy clouds.
“It possesses roughly seventy to eighty percent of the efficacy of an immortality medicine!” This was his assessment. It was absolutely a divine treasure.
“Quickly seal it with a jade implement — otherwise the medicinal aura will dissipate.” The holy knight reminded.
Ye Fan produced a white jade cauldron and sealed the small tree-shaped divine elixir within, then handed it to Little Pine, telling it to keep it safe.
The little purple creature shook its head vigorously. Its long lashes fluttered, its large eyes dark and bright as gems — it wanted to give this as a gift to its master.
“It has always been the master who gives medicine and weapons to the disciple — whoever heard of it being the other way? This medicine was discovered by you, and ultimately obtained by you as well. Keep it.”
Ye Fan gave a shake of his hand, dispersing the medicine cloud, and distributed portions of it to everyone present. It too bore the divine nature of immortality and was of extremely high value.
Little Pine insisted on presenting the gift to Ye Fan, but was ultimately refused. Ye Fan made the decision to seal the divine elixir within the “pine pagoda.”
“On the other end of the starry sky there is immortality medicine — your master lacks for nothing of this kind, having used it several times to completely transform myself. But you are in need of it. Use it to shed your mortal shell and temper your Dao body.”
Ye Fan produced the liquid droplets bestowed by the Changbai Mountain ancestral ginseng and gave one drop each to everyone present. These had originally been set aside for Little Pine, but now that it had obtained the great medicine from this furnace, they were no longer needed.
On the other end of the starry sky, his eldest disciple Tongtong and little Queer had the Nine-Orifice Holy Spirit’s divine liquid, which was enormously beneficial for cultivation. Ye Fan had always felt a slight regret that he had not built an equally solid foundation for Little Pine — but now, at last, this matter of the heart had been resolved.
Long Ma opened its mouth, yet found nothing to say. This had been discovered by Little Pine and ultimately obtained by it — leaving this fierce horse feeling like fate had simply not been on its side.
They made a thorough sweep of Spiritual Mountain. The several gurus transcribed many scriptures from certain sheer cliffsides, their expressions exhilarated — many were lost scriptures. They swept through the place until several days later before finally departing. Though no other precious implements were found, the journey had not been in vain.
At last, they returned to the mortal world.
“Master, where do we enter the starry sky from?” Zhang Qingyang asked.
“We go to find Hangu Pass.” Ye Fan said.
In their time, both Shakyamuni and Laozi had entered the starry sky, and both had descended into the Northern Dipper’s star domain. There were no star coordinates on Spiritual Mountain, and the Buddhist order’s route map could not be obtained.
Now, there was no choice but to seek out the path Laozi had traveled. This was also the answer Ye Fan had obtained from the old Daoist of Fangzhang Mountain: Laozi had indeed left behind an ancient road for those who came after, but it was extremely arduous!
Hangu Pass was renowned throughout ancient and modern times — the most celebrated fortified pass in ancient China. Because the pass sat within a valley, deep and dangerous like a container, it was called Hangu Pass.
In ancient times, the sound of battle horses and bodies strewn across the land made it an ultimate battleground — a single man holding the pass could stop ten thousand from advancing. When the armies of the six kingdoms came knocking, they ended up with “rivers of blood and a million fallen” — the state of Qin’s reliance on Hangu Pass was absolute.
For cultivators, this place held an especially unique significance. Laozi rode an ox westward, purple energy flowing three thousand li from the east, and ultimately passed west through Hangu Pass, leaving behind many immortal secrets.
For a thousand years, countless Daoist practitioners both within and beyond China have come here to make pilgrimage, such that it has become the most revered site of the Daoist order!
Hangu Pass is located in what is now Linbao City, Henan Province, fifteen kilometers north of town in Wangduo Village. Ye Fan, the holy knight, Long Ma, Little Pine, the Buddhist child Huahua, Zhang Qingyang, and Long Yuxuan — a party of seven — arrived here.
“Little Pine, go back.” Ye Fan patted its head.
The little purple creature wept again, its large eyes crimson, teardrops rolling down in streams. Not for the first time it pleaded desperately for him to take it along, letting out soft, broken sobs.
Ye Fan, too, was unwilling. His heart ached with a faint bitterness. Farewells were always accompanied by helplessness. The other end of the starry sky had too great a hold on him, and yet this side too had lingering attachments.
“Your master does this for your own good. You will meet again in the future. Being far from the whirlpool now, cultivating quietly and breaking through in peace, beyond the reach of the battlefield — that is the best choice for you.”
“I want to wait until Master steps onto the starroad, to watch you leave with my own eyes.” Little Pine choked out in a timid, broken voice.
Ye Fan nodded and said nothing more. Only one person could prove the Dao on a single ancient star. He had considered this at length — he could only steel his heart and leave the little one behind.
“This parting — who knows whether it will be decades, or centuries, or millennia…” He sighed silently to himself.
The Hangu Pass ancient city of the mortal world had long since ceased to exist. Even with Ye Fan’s divine abilities, it took a full six months before he barely managed to break through a pathway, entering a heaven and earth enclosed by a primordial formation array.
Ahead, a band of black mist permeated the air — ghostly and eerie, bones strewn everywhere, ghost-fires burning all about. There was not a single trace of color in this heaven and earth, utterly dim and desolate.
This was a primordial battlefield. Wails and howls filled the air. Uncountable yin spirits prowled this place — all the souls of soldiers who had died in battle here long ago!
At the horizon’s edge lay a mountain valley, within which a great city stood tall — the cultivators’ Hangu Pass, renowned throughout the ages!
“It is said that passing through Hangu Pass and opening the western gate reveals a boundless starry sky. In ancient times, Yin Xi was charged with guarding this place. Who knows whether a sage still stands watch here today.” Ye Fan murmured.
Throughout this primordial battlefield, yin soldiers and yin horses moved about in their thousands upon thousands. There was no talk of reincarnation here whatsoever. The cries and howls made one’s scalp crawl; black mist surged; vengeful ghosts charged constantly.
Ye Fan rode Long Ma, reciting the Scripture of the Salvation of Humanity aloud. All evil retreated, every manner of yin spirit was purified and became wisps of smoke, and the entire expanse of heaven and earth was bathed in radiant light.
When they came before this pass of passes — greatest of ancient and modern times — a great shout rang out that set both ears ringing. Before the city gate, demonic energy surged to the sky and blood-light covered everything, completely submerging the primordial battlefield.
“Who dares attempt to storm Hangu Pass?” This was a primordial great demon — blood-light like an ocean, its power surging heavenward, standing guard before the gate.
“It’s you!” Ye Fan froze. He had not expected that before departing, he would after all encounter the peerless demon sovereign who had briefly manifested in the mortal world during the Second World War. This silhouette matched the blurry figure in that photograph.
“We wish to pass through Hangu.” Ye Fan stepped forward and indicated that he wished to borrow the road.
“I guard this pass under the orders of the Pass Guardian. If you wish to pass, speak with your strength.” This great demon was a Dao-Severing king, demon energy surging through its whole body, its eyes brilliant and sparkling, its physique mighty and powerful, its skin like jade — extraordinarily imposing.