The consequence of Ye Fan teasing Yan Ruyu was being left hanging high on a cliff face of the Peach Blossom Valley. He was under no illusion that a woman as radiant and ethereal as she could possibly develop feelings for someone like him over so few encounters. When all was said and done, it had to do entirely with the Demon Emperor’s Sacred Heart.
When the group had left, Ye Fan descended to the ground. Within the peach garden, ten-thousand-year ancient peach trees twisted and curled outward like writhing serpentine dragons; peach blossoms clustered in bloom. A clear wind passed, and petals scattered in every direction, drifting like a pale pink mist.
Ye Fan began to think. What was he to do now? The Demon Emperor’s Sacred Heart was being nurtured in his Life Spring, and the demon race would never let him leave. Was he to remain with them? But demon cultivation arts were unsuited for human cultivation — here, he would have no access to powerful cultivation methods. He needed to find another way.
This group of demons had cultivation surpassing the Other Shore realm. They were likely a formidable force within the demon race itself. The thought of escape was virtually impossible.
“Take it one step at a time.” Ye Fan was not worried. His life was in absolutely no danger at the moment. He sat cross-legged within the peach grove and let the petals flutter softly around him, stilling his mind and focusing his spirit as he began to cultivate.
The Demon Great Emperor’s heart was immersed in the Life Spring. How could he not make full use of it? He wanted to draw upon the sacred blood to temper his flesh and blood — to be reborn from the flesh once more.
The golden Suffering Sea was as large as a fist, fixed like a blazing sun in the void — dazzlingly brilliant and sacred and pure.
The Life Spring rippled and flowed, clouds and rosy haze billowing. That heart — red as carnelian — lay bathed in the divine spring’s flow, silent and utterly still, crimson to the point of being intoxicating, luminously beautiful.
Ye Fan set his “cauldron” to revolving around that red heart, then pressed it flush against it, agitating the cauldron in an attempt to draw out the sacred blood from within. But no matter what techniques he employed, the Demon Great Emperor’s heart was still as a bedrock, immovable, completely refusing to let even a trace of essence blood be drawn out.
In the end, Ye Fan could be said to have been downright provocative — he simply drove the small cauldron to collide directly with the Sacred Heart, producing a clanging reverberation. Brilliant light exploded within the Life Spring; the cauldron blazed with great radiance, circulating with wave upon wave of mysterious Dao breath.
Yet the Demon Emperor’s heart was as still as an ancient well without ripples — utterly unresponsive, paying his provocations no mind whatsoever, like the eternal sun and moon suspended in place, without a single disturbance.
“The green copper block is too mysterious — it has completely suppressed the Demon Emperor’s Sacred Heart. No matter what techniques I use, there is no movement at all, and I cannot extract even a single drop of essence blood.” This left Ye Fan deeply frustrated. He was sitting on a mountain of treasure yet unable to obtain the slightest benefit — a truly galling position.
Unwilling to give up, Ye Fan inscribed characters on the cauldron. Nine ancient characters whose radiance first emerged, each already condensing within it a wondrous divine power, and arranged according to a specific formation.
This was the method recorded in the Dao Scripture for using a “vessel” to suppress and bind oneself in order to realize “eternity.”
This time, however, Ye Fan had no intention of suppressing himself. He wanted to use this secret art to seal and suppress the Demon Great Emperor’s Sacred Heart and set it into motion.
Ye Fan could not read those nine ancient characters at all — he was treating them entirely as Dao patterns, following exactly what the Dao Scripture described, without the slightest deviation, successfully branding them within the cauldron.
The cauldron suspended above the Suffering Sea instantly became hazy and indistinct. It breathed out its energy and spread its transformation — born of emptiness, primal chaos-mist surging and billowing, weaving together “Dao” and “Principle” — making one feel it was profound and mysterious beyond description.
Yin and Yang in harmony, the Primordial Origin in unfolding — the power of life and death intermingling. The cauldron grew more and more mysteriously unfathomable, harmonizing energy and giving birth to transformation, shedding the stillness of death, manifesting the growth of life — and then gradually expanding, descending to press down upon that heart.
The Demon Great Emperor had in his lifetime shaken the Eastern Wasteland and looked down upon all creation. Though he could not achieve immortality, he was still the most supreme of all those who stood at the pinnacle of Heaven and Earth. The heart he had left behind was naturally of no ordinary nature.
As the cauldron pressed down in suppression, the nine ancient characters — like naturally-formed Dao patterns — wove together the most profound and mysterious forces between Heaven and Earth. The Sacred Heart, which had been utterly motionless, trembled very slightly.
“Seal!” Ye Fan cried out inwardly. With the green copper block present, he resolved to go all out. Without wresting the Demon Emperor’s sacred blood, he would not relent.
The cauldron — three legs to stabilize Heaven and Earth, two ears to unfold Yin and Yang, its circular body to encompass primal chaos — like the primordial beginning of Heaven and Earth, and yet like the mother of ten thousand things, containing all within itself. It swallowed that luminously translucent heart in a single motion.
“Boom!”
At that very moment, the Demon Emperor’s Sacred Heart could no longer remain silent. Blood-light erupted skyward; crimson mist blazed like fire-cloud, streaming in every direction. Provoked again and again, it grew restless at last — unleashing its own immense wave of power. Blood-radiance flowed through it; it was like a crimson sun blazing in the sky.
The golden Suffering Sea surged with ten thousand crashing waves; oceans rolled up to the highest heavens. The Life Spring erupted, boiling completely over. The Wheel Sea was no longer at peace — a terrifying aura spreading in all directions.
The vitality of that heart was too overwhelming. Every thread of its blood-energy held unfathomable power. Blood-radiance blazed across it, and on the cauldron, the nine ancient characters were ground into obliteration by its raw force. It was not that the nine ancient characters were insufficient in their grandeur — it was that Ye Fan’s cultivation was still too shallow, his mastery too incomplete. The Demon Great Emperor’s heart shook free in an instant.
Ye Fan was simultaneously shocked and exhilarated. He drove that cauldron to capture the blood-radiance flooding the sky; the cauldron — like the mother of all things, encompassing everything — absorbed in a single motion all of that blazing crimson mist.
At the same moment, the green copper block sensed the boundless turbulence within the Wheel Sea, and with a single light tremor, the heart instantly masked its overwhelming vitality and sank into silence. The golden Suffering Sea and the cloud-and-rosy-haze-filled Life Spring returned to calm in an instant.
A surge of excitement rose in Ye Fan’s heart. There within the small cauldron — a single grain of essence blood blazed with splendor, wrapped in crimson mist, hazy and glimmering. After capturing the blood-light that had filled the sky, he had wrested out a single drop of sacred blood.
The cauldron spun rapidly, and that grain of blood essence tumbled out in an instant, transforming into boundless blood-mist that surged throughout his entire body.
Within the peach grove, beneath the ten-thousand-year ancient peach trees, Ye Fan sat utterly still. His body was bathed in crimson; every blood vessel was dilated and open, his blood like a great river — its flow accompanied by a deep, rolling thunder. Every bone in his body gleamed white and flawless, crackling and snapping as though being forged and hammered. His five viscera and six organs trembled faintly, as though playing out a musical composition, producing strange and wondrous resonances.
A single drop of the Demon Emperor’s sacred blood flowed through every part of his body, baptizing his physical shell, tempering his flesh — a tremendously slow and gradual process. Ye Fan’s skin grew even more luminously clear; his body powerful and robust beyond measure.
A full day and night passed before he opened his eyes. His pupils blazed like stars, and he sensed the might of his flesh — his body more tenacious and resilient than before. The moment he clenched his fist, golden light erupted brilliantly. He felt as though he could punch through the very sky itself.
“If I could absorb more sacred blood, I could definitely be reborn from the flesh for the third time.” He had consumed two kinds of sacred medicines and had already been reborn twice. If one more such transformation were to occur, the strength of his physical shell would be beyond imagination.
From not far away came the sound of a sweet, melodious laugh. Qin Yao came sauntering over — one shoulder tantalizingly bare, her gauze skirt trailing along the ground — two lotus-white arms outshining frost and snow, shimmering with an alluringly luminous radiance. She was daringly dressed, her exquisite form half-visible, sways of her hips utterly enchanting.
“You really are greedy. Now you understand the benefits of the Demon Emperor’s Sacred Heart, don’t you? Before, you thought I was trying to harm you — how exactly are you planning to thank me?” Qin Yao shot him a sidelong glance, her voice carrying a natural resonance — thoroughly pleasant to the ear — the red mole at her brow lending her a particularly distinctive quality.
“I am so poor all I have left is myself — how do you want me to thank you?” Ye Fan rose to his feet, the smile on his face bright and open.
Qin Yao’s black hair cascaded like a waterfall, her figure long and willowy, her curves rising and falling enchantingly — a figure that could only be called divine. She moved lightly to his side, her face radiant and lovely, exuding an incomparable allure.
“Then offer yourself to me.” She draped a hand over Ye Fan’s shoulder, licked her moist red lips — immensely sensual — her voice so soft and silky it made one’s entire body tingle.
“Nothing would please me more.” Ye Fan had come from across the starry void, and his worldview was naturally nothing like that of a “stuffy old scholar.” This kind of teasing had no power over him at all.
With complete ease and naturalness he reached out and took hold of the jade hand on his shoulder. His face neither flushed nor his heart quickened, he said: “Hands like tender young shoots, skin like congealed fat, neck like the white larva of a tree-borer, teeth like melon seeds…”
Qin Yao immediately broke into a laugh sweet as honey, charming and alluring. She gave him a sidelong glance and withdrew her hand, pinching one of his cheeks as she teased: “What does a young boy like you know?”
As a modern man, Ye Fan was naturally not rattled by such tactics. He reached out directly to stroke Qin Yao’s silken hair, then even ran his hand over her jade-like cheek: “Please mind your words — the person standing before you is a man, not a child.”
Qin Yao was tall and slender — her waist pliant and rounded and fine, her figure full and shapely, her jade legs long and straight. She laughed until she trembled like a flower in the breeze: “Come back in two more years before you say such things.” With that she licked her moist red lips and blew softly into his ear.
“A real man needs no words to prove himself.”
“I’m not seeing any proof.” Qin Yao’s red mole glowed with tiny points of light, her eyes shimmering as she looked at him provokingly, her face brimming with a smile.
Ye Fan knew she was almost certainly just deliberately tormenting him. He smiled, extended his right arm, and in one smooth motion drew her around that pliant and slender waist: “Why don’t we go discuss the meaning of life and talk about what it means to be a man?”
For the first time, Qin Yao found herself somewhat unable to keep up — she had not expected him to be so bold. She laughed softly, tapped a finger to his forehead, and retreated like a fluttering butterfly.
Ye Fan’s physique was powerfully built — his arm like divine iron — and he did not let go. Like a pair of dancing butterflies, he followed along with her in motion, enveloped in her heart-clearing fragrance, feeling as though he held warm jade, as though he embraced a delicate flower.
“Alright — let go!” Qin Yao stopped. Still alluringly captivating, her eyes shimmering like water, immensely beguiling. The red mole at her brow shot out a point of crystalline light; Ye Fan felt a rush of numbness through his body and instantly released his arm.
“Immortal Qin, we have not yet discussed life’s meaning.” Ye Fan wore the look of a man utterly at ease with the world. Her attempts to tease him with such tactics had been completely ineffective.
“Cheeky!” Qin Yao gathered back her silken hair: “I came here to inform you — we may need to depart from the Wei Kingdom at any time. You should prepare yourself mentally.”
“Why?” Ye Fan was puzzled.
“The Ji Family — descended from the Archaic Era — has been making unusual movements. We suspect they may be preparing to move against us.”
The Profound Origin Sect had appeared to be a human sect from the outside, but had long since been taken over by Yan Ruyu and was serving as one of her outposts. Now she had decided to withdraw from this place.
“Why would they make their move?” Ye Fan asked.
“A figure of extraordinary genius has emerged in the Ji Family — possessing a rare divine physique, almost unheard of in the Eastern Wasteland. Having now completed the initial stage of their cultivation, they have been arranged by the Ji Family’s elders to use us as a first test of the blade.”
“Is a divine physique really so fearsome? It’s only initial completion after all — why not just kill them here and be done with it?”
Qin Yao shook her head: “The Ji Family will certainly have dispatched many powerful figures to stand guard nearby. They would never allow an accident to happen. If this person were to meet an untimely death, the Ji Family would overturn the entire Eastern Wasteland. Not one of us would escape.”
Yan Ruyu was extremely decisive. That very same day she issued the order for a full withdrawal, departing the Wei Kingdom and preparing to seek refuge with a great demon expert.
But the Ji Family moved with such speed that before they could even clear the Wei Kingdom’s borders, their path of retreat was cut off.
This was a stretch of barren ridgelines in the western reaches of the Wei Kingdom — mountain ranges stretching endlessly, sparse in vegetation, mostly scorched earth. Legend had it that in ancient times a heaven-shaking battle had been fought here, reducing it to desolate wasteland.
Massive mountains soared into the clouds, yet without a trace of green — bare and stark, bleak beyond measure.
Broken rocks, scorched earth, shattered mountains — testament to the cold desolation and haunting stillness of this ancient battlefield.
In every direction, upon each of the bare towering mountains, powerful figures stood arrayed. Ji Family experts were as plentiful as clouds, sealing off every direction.
Directly ahead, atop a fractured and broken mountain, a young man in purple robes stood with his sleeves billowing — like a deity descended from the heavens. He appeared to be around twenty years of age. His eyes blazed like brilliant stars; his hands were clasped behind his back as he stood alone, blocking the way ahead.
He was one with the mountains around him — merged with Heaven and Earth — giving off a feeling of the Dao conforming to nature, of Heaven and man unified as one. His depth could not be measured or fathomed.
“Why do you block our path?” A middle-aged woman of great beauty from the demon clan stepped forward and asked in a low, clear voice.
“My divine physique has reached initial completion. I heard that a descendant of the Demon Emperor is present here, and I have come specifically to issue a challenge.” This young man in purple robes was of an air that defied description as noble or lofty — yet he blended perfectly with the natural Heaven and Earth around him. His expression was composed, his words unhurried and calm.
“Her Highness is unwell and unable to fight. Please issue your challenge another day.” The middle-aged woman transmitted her voice.
The purple-robed young man’s words were gentle as a spring breeze: “If that is so, I will not force the matter. Then please leave the Demon Emperor’s Sacred Weapon behind. Since reaching initial completion of my divine physique, there are few weapons in the world that I find worthy — I lack a weapon that suits my hand.”
The middle-aged woman’s expression did not change: “I do not understand what you are saying. We carry no so-called sacred weapon.”
Two graceful and beautiful attendants appeared behind the purple-robed young man, standing in respectful attendance. One of them parted her lips — her voice clear and melodious: “Three years ago, the Demon Emperor’s burial mound emerged into the world and shook the Eastern Wasteland. From the yang tomb, countless spirit-linked weapons shot outward. Sadly, the Dao Scripture did not appear. And after the Demon Great Emperor’s heart burst free, its trail too vanished without a trace. But that Demon Emperor’s Sacred Weapon — which broke through the obstruction of five great figures — was deftly claimed by your princess using a treasure-gathering basin. How can it possibly not be in your possession?”
“Even if the Great Emperor’s Sacred Weapon had fallen into Her Highness’s hands, it is only right and natural. What standing does the Ji Family have to demand it?” The middle-aged woman’s expression darkened.
The purple-robed young man — though only appearing to be around twenty years old — was extraordinarily composed. In his every gesture and movement, it seemed as though “Dao” and “principle” were flowing through him. He spoke slowly: “The Demon Emperor’s Sacred Weapon — I will have it, no matter what.”
Beside him, another graceful young woman, her voice like large and small pearls falling onto a jade plate, said: “Our young lord’s divine physique has reached initial completion. Only the Demon Emperor’s Sacred Weapon is worthy of him.”
“What grand words — let us see whether the divine physique truly lives up to its name…” The middle-aged woman let out a cold laugh.
The purple-robed young man — his dark hair swaying softly, his expression tranquil, his eyes deep and serene — opened his mouth calmly: “Then you are all welcome to come at me.”
“Allow this old one to test just how fearsome a divine physique can be.” The middle-aged woman stepped forward in person. From her mouth she spat a ray of rosy light in the shape of a willow leaf — brilliant and silver, slashing toward the purple-robed young man.
The purple-robed young man was utterly at ease. He did not move at all — his robes billowing, hands still clasped behind his back. But in that moment, everyone present was struck with profound shock!
Night descended in an instant — a sudden dimness spreading everywhere. And behind him, an extraordinarily wondrous scene appeared: a jade sea surging and crashing, and upon it, a pristine full moon rising slowly — spilling down its sacred, silver radiance.
“The bright moon rising over the sea!”
Everyone was shaken to their core.
“This is the Wheel Sea wondrous phenomenon of the ancient great masters — and he has actually cultivated it to completion. Truly worthy of being called the divine physique!”
That pristine full moon froze the willow-leaf divine weapon of the middle-aged woman on the spot, reducing it to powder in an instant. Then the sacred full moon turned — and that powerful demon cultivator did not even manage to let out a sound before she dissolved into a mist of blood, both body and soul utterly annihilated.
Beneath the night sky, the jade sea shimmered with rippling light; a pristine full moon hung in the heavens. The purple-robed young man stood with his hands clasped behind his back — motionless throughout — impossibly serene and transcendent, man and scenery as one, like a poem, like a painting.