The lake shimmered pale blue, clear and bright. Along the banks, vegetation grew thick and lush, pavilions dotted the landscape, and the scenery was elegant and beautiful.

Now, the place was dense with silhouettes — no one could say how many people had gathered — men and women, young and old, all in a clamorous buzz.

Wu Ziming walked up with large strides, a cold smile on his face. “Dark boy, you’ve finally shown yourselves. Have you been stewing in hiding so long that you couldn’t hold back anymore?”

Li Heishui returned the cold smile. “Couldn’t hold back? My heart is racing with excitement — I’ve come out specifically to collect source from you. Have you brought enough? Ten thousand jin of source, that’s the minimum. If you’ve got less than that, go back to wherever you came from — we won’t accept it.”

Everyone at the lakeside was left dumbstruck. These two came out swinging at each other right away, the air thick with gunpowder. This source arts contest was going to be fierce.

“Ten thousand jin of source? Brother Tuoba has that much on him — but don’t even dream of ever getting your hands on it.” Li Chongtian scoffed.

Tuoba Chang was very composed. He did not engage with any of this — he simply stood there in quiet stillness, surveying the small island in the lake, watching the cascade of petals, crystalline and drifting.

“Good — as long as ten thousand jin of source is there.” The corner of Li Heishui’s mouth held a faint coldness. He was worried the other party might come empty-handed, in which case there would be nothing to gain.

Wu Ziming smiled with airy ease. “You think you can actually take it? In my view, the tens of thousands of jin of source you collected from auctioning off the spirit herb is just right — it can all be contributed now.”

“Exactly — Brother Tuoba’s grandfather is turning three hundred years old soon. Consider this your gift.” Li Chongtian laughed loudly.

“Enough talk. Let it be a true source arts contest, and we’ll see who ends up handing over the source.” Li Heishui said.

All around them, everyone was in eager anticipation. Both sides radiated supreme confidence and went head-to-head like a needle meeting an awl — and both were extraordinary source arts masters. There was a strong chance today would truly see astonishing rarities cut out.

“That’s right — a source arts contest means letting the cut stones speak for themselves. Bring on the showdown now.”

“Everything else is just words — it all comes down to cutting stones. Let the contest begin.”

Everyone was tremendously excited, hoping to witness the techniques of master source arts practitioners. Perhaps they would even see a rare and priceless treasure emerge into the world.

“The refined arts of this source arts aristocratic family — even the Source Grandmaster of former days once expressed admiration for them. Today, those gathered here are truly fortunate to witness this.” Wu Ziming was in high spirits.

“A pity they’re up against crude rural techniques.” Li Chongtian muttered in a low voice that everyone could still hear clearly.

Climb high and fall hard. Say all you want, keep slandering us. We’ll be laughing soon enough. Li Heishui sneered inwardly, though he kept those words to himself.

Ye Fan stepped forward, intending to cross the water and reach the small island where the premier stone garden was located. He needed a peerless rarity to assemble the full million jin of source, and so now he was choosing only the most precious stones.

Tuoba Chang, who had been standing to one side as if unaware of anyone else’s existence — never once glancing at Ye Fan or Li Heishui — now finally looked at Ye Fan and said: “Stop.”

Ye Fan halted. He regarded the other man with calm composure. The other party was so cold and aloof, and Ye Fan had no desire to say anything unnecessary — he waited quietly for him to speak.

Tuoba Chang said: “The premier stone garden of a Sacred Ground is a sacred place. True master practitioners of source arts enter it through a series of successive contests.”

“What do you have in mind?” Ye Fan asked.

“There’s no need for us to start from the very first stone garden. We can take this lakeside as our starting point — if one cannot cut out source of an equivalent tier, there is no point in entering the sacred garden to compete.”

“Exactly. If the gap in source arts is too great, Brother Tuoba need not waste his time.” Wu Ziming chimed in.

“That is how it should be. If you can’t cut source of an equivalent tier, why bother entering the Ji Family’s sacred garden?” Li Chongtian sneered as well.

“Fine — you pick the stone.” Ye Fan had nothing particular to say to him.

By the lakeside, trees and plants grew in thick patches, and pavilions stood tall — but stones were scarce.

One of the Ji Family’s source reader masters stepped forward with a wry smile: “There are no stone materials here — only a few ordinary garden stones, used as decorative elements.”

Tuoba Chang shook his head. “No. In my view, there are still some precious stones here — one simply needs discerning eyes to recognize them.”

Everyone present was surprised. There were no stone materials at the lakeside — only common discarded rocks used as garden accents alongside ancient tree roots or old vines.

Ye Fan and Tuoba Chang moved simultaneously, walking among the most ordinary stones, their movements quick. Had either hesitated, the other might have claimed a rare stone first.

“The stones his finger touches are turning gold!” Someone cried out in astonishment.

“What is happening?!” Many people stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

Tuoba Chang moved with remarkable speed, his index finger tapping out in rapid succession. Each time it landed on a stone, the rock was transformed to gold, as if cast from solid yellow metal.

“This is… the Divine Hand of Crimson Gold, at its pinnacle!” An elderly man exclaimed, feeling his horizons had been broadened immensely.

Many people were hearing of it for the first time, and even more were seeing it for the first time. Tuoba Chang’s finger seemed to hold a strange and wondrous power — as he walked forward, touching dozens of stones in succession, each one glowed golden from head to toe.

Only after he had walked over ten paces past them did the stones return to their ordinary appearance, leaving everyone no choice but to be astonished.

A flicker of wariness stirred in Ye Fan’s heart as well. The other man was indeed a true master. The Divine Hand of Crimson Gold, brought to perfection — it could see through whatever lay within a stone.

“Ding!”

Suddenly, Tuoba Chang stopped. His finger landed on a stone riddled with holes and pits — like rotting wood that had been eaten through by insects, pocked and uneven.

He scooped up this stone and carried it as he continued selecting, but in the end made no change to his choice. This was the stone he had settled on.

“That’s a ghost-cracked stone — it’s nearly impossible for source to come from one. Why would he choose it?” Many people were puzzled, and even Wu Ziming could not help voicing a word of concern.

Ye Fan came to the lakeside, his gaze moving across the stones, yet he made no move for a long while. After all, this was not a true stone garden — there were only discarded rocks here, and finding a rare precious stone among them was asking quite a lot of anyone.

Yet no one hurried him. The entire scene fell into hushed stillness, everyone waiting in quiet patience. Having cut out a primordial divine herb, many people had complete faith in him.

Ye Fan walked half the circumference of the small lake, looking over every discarded stone. Then his eyes suddenly lit up. He walked straight to the water’s edge, reached in, and pulled out a head-sized stone that had been sitting submerged in the water. He examined it carefully, and settled on it.

Tuoba Chang was brisk. He said nothing more — a golden finger descended, and the ghost-cracked stone split apart into multiple pieces. A dazzling ray of light then shot forth: a sky-blue radiance, gloriously beautiful, flooding into the eyes of all who watched.

A fist-sized piece of variant source burst free, blazing with light — like the concentrated essence of a deep-blue sky, shooting out streaks of blue splendor. This was Blue Diamond Source. A piece of this size was worth a full fifteen hundred jin of pure source.

Ye Fan said nothing either. A light stroke, and the stone crumbled apart. At the same moment, a surge of crimson brilliance erupted outward, illuminating everything.

The second piece of variant source was similarly sized — like a blazing red sun, radiating brilliant light. It was called Crimson Fire Source.

Everyone marveled. Two master practitioners of source arts, touching stone and turning it to gold, had each cut out fifteen hundred jin of source with effortless nonchalance — a feat that could only inspire envy, yet could never be learned.

“Good — onto the island!” Tuoba Chang said no more. He boarded a boat and crossed the lake. No one dared to fly here — they had no choice but to board a vessel like any other.

The people of the Ji Family’s stone gambling workshop could only pray in silence. With two masters of this caliber choosing to compete here, it was a misfortune, not a blessing.

Ye Fan and Li Heishui also boarded a boat and rowed toward the small island in the lake. The true contest had now begun.

“Let us cross and watch — we’ll stand on the water and observe in silence.”

Many cultivators made the request, and in the end the Ji Family’s people agreed. The many cultivators were overjoyed, and in a flash they surrounded the small island on all sides.

The island was no more than several hundred meters in circumference, filled with blossoming trees — many of them ancient trees thousands of years old, as powerful and gnarled as coiling dragons, their bark like dragon scales, their branches laden with flowers.

Petals fell in drifts — pink, snow-white, sky-blue, pale violet — each one crystalline, the fragrance breathtaking. The island felt like the pure land of some divine being, suffusing the heart with a sense of peace, stillness, purity, spirit, and sanctity.

Most strikingly, beneath a great ancient tree at the very center of the island, amid a rain of falling petals, sat an elder whose skin was smooth as an infant’s and whose hair was white as snow. He sat cross-legged in perfect stillness, eyes closed, utterly unresponsive.

“Haha… we haven’t arrived too late, have we?” A group of elderly men appeared — each one with the white hair and youthful face of someone who had cultivated deeply, full of vigor and spirit, their years too many to contemplate.

“We’ve made it just in time — it hasn’t begun yet.” It was the very same group of cantankerous old men who had been at the Dao-Yi stone workshop watching Ye Fan cut stones before.

These people had very impressive backgrounds, hailing from the various major sects, and quite a few of them were running low on lifespan. No one was willing to provoke them.

When this group of old men received word, they came rushing over with all the energy of someone who had just been given a shot of elixir, brimming with enthusiasm, and stepped directly onto the island.

The Ji Family’s premier stone garden was not ordinarily open to anyone who wished to enter, but these were all longtime patrons, and a special exception was made for them. Looking out across the island, one saw a vast sea of white-haired heads.

“Sister Biyue, please let Miaoyi in as well.” The just-arrived An Miaoyi spotted Ji Biyue and made her request.

Ji Biyue gave a gentle smile and nodded in agreement. Making this exception opened the door for others as well — Jiang Yifei, Yao Yuekong, Xu Heng, Jin Chixiao, the Great Xia Imperial Prince, the white-robed little nun, along with a number of Sacred Ground heirs, all entered the stone garden.

Everyone was astonished. This source arts contest had drawn an extraordinary number of people to attend in person.

Not only were there veteran elders of great renown, but also Sacred Ground heirs such as Xiang Yifei and Wan Chusheng.

“Haha… young ones, are you going to cut out another peerless rarity this time?” One old man laughed heartily.

Another stepped forward directly toward Ye Fan and said: “Would you like me, this old codger, to give you an introduction? The good things here are no fewer than in the Dao-Yi Sacred Ground. Some of these stones have been sitting here for many years — we’ve all had our eye on them and could never quite figure them out. Some are easily a match for the Nine-Aperture Stone Man.”

Hearing them speak like this, the people from the Ji Family’s stone workshop instantly changed their expressions. They cursed under their breath — that pack of old vultures, nothing better to do!

Ye Fan smiled and expressed his thanks to them.

Beneath a great ancient tree, Ye Fan came upon a dragon-head stone, roughly the size of a millstone. It was lifelike in its rendering, with wisps of dragon energy coiling faintly around it.

“This stone…” He was greatly startled, filled with astonishment. This stone was far from ordinary — even an average person could perceive a faint trace of dragon energy from it, to say nothing of him.

Most striking of all, this stone was naturally formed — not carved by human hands. It had become a dragon’s head on its own, giving rise to a deep sense of wonder.

“How about it? More remarkable than the Nine-Aperture Stone Man, isn’t it? This is the head of a genuine dragon!” One of the elderly men exclaimed.

Ye Fan was truly shaken. After careful observation, though, he found himself uncertain once again. The stone displayed unusual phenomena on its surface — dragon energy flickering in and out — yet he sensed that its interior might be hollow, and he could not make up his mind.

“What do you think of this dragon-head stone? It’s priced at a hundred thousand jin of source. Do you dare cut it?” An old man asked.

“Let’s skip this stone.” Ye Fan shook his head. He genuinely couldn’t make a confident call.

“If you don’t cut this dragon-head stone, you’ll leave a group of old fellows like us regretting it for the rest of our lives.” The group of old men all goaded him on.

“If I were to cut this stone, I myself would likely spend the rest of my life regretting it.” Ye Fan shook his head decisively. It wasn’t worth the risk.

On the other side, several old men were also enthusiastically introducing Tuoba Chang to the sky-high valued rare stones of the premier stone garden.

“This stone is making sounds…” Li Heishui was startled, pointing at a rare stone of over a hundred jin sitting not far away in a clear spring pool.

The stone was a deep brown-green throughout. Where the clear water struck its surface, it produced a pleasant, melodious sound, like someone playing a qin.

“This stone is something quite out of the ordinary. It is called the Immortal Melody Stone, and a group of us old men have had our eye on it for several decades now.”

As long as the stone was struck by water, it emitted beautiful sounds — truly bizarre and extraordinary, making one long to split it open and see what lay within.

“Eighty thousand jin of source — that expensive?”

Ye Fan tapped it lightly and inclined his ear to listen. In the end, he furrowed his brow. It did not resemble stone materials produced within a source mine. He pondered it for a long moment before finally standing up and walking away.

“What do you make of this stone? We’ve been unable to put it out of our minds.” An old man pointed ahead.

It was an exposed, sun-facing patch of ground — no vegetation whatsoever, completely dry. There, sitting in solitude, was a large stone roughly the size of a tabletop.

“Twelve thousand — wait, twelve hundred thousand jin of source — that’s outrageous!” Li Heishui was taken aback.

“Because this stone is particularly special — heaven and earth have nurtured a Dao diagram right upon its surface. Go take a closer look.” An elderly man explained.

Ye Fan walked up and was greatly astonished. Deeply imprinted on the surface of the stone was an Eight Trigrams diagram.

“That was definitely carved there by human hands!” Li Heishui said dismissively.

“It’s naturally formed.” Ye Fan had studied source arts and could distinguish it for himself. His heart was not at ease — the Ji Family’s sacred stone garden truly had extraordinary stones at every turn.

“So, young friend — is your heart moved? Are you going to cut it open and show us all what’s inside?” Several old men urged him on enthusiastically.

Ye Fan examined it carefully, observing it closely, and after a long while finally said: “Other than this Dao diagram, I cannot see anything else particularly remarkable about it for now.”

“Truly composed, young friend. Then come and take a look at this centerpiece treasure of our garden.”

A group of old men led him to the other side, where a very large stone stood quietly beside a blossoming tree, a full two meters in height. Petals drifted down around it, giving the stone a strangely ethereal, otherworldly quality.

“This stone is worth a hundred and fifty thousand jin of source? That’s excessively expensive. Even if divine source were cut from it, it wouldn’t be worth much more.” Li Heishui shook his head.

“Young friends, look carefully — this stone is most peculiar. It is called ‘Peerless Beauty.'” The group of old men held this stone in the highest esteem.

On the smooth surface of this stone, heaven and earth had nurtured an image — the outline of a beautiful woman’s head. Though the image was not sharp, it gave one an infinite sense of ethereal grace, as if it were the silhouette of a woman of matchless, otherworldly beauty.

“Some have speculated that a peerless beauty may be sealed within, her silhouette having pressed through the stone wall from inside. Do you dare cut it?” One old man’s eyes burned with eagerness — he was desperate for Ye Fan to say yes.

“Let me take a look.” Ye Fan walked around the large stone in a circle, continuously tapping and listening. He was genuinely stumped.

Having examined four sky-high valued rare stones in succession, none of which he could see through, he found himself thinking that they might all be hollow inside — with nothing to cut out. And yet, in the space between what could and couldn’t be perceived, he had an elusive sense that something extraordinarily rare might be hidden within, and that suspicion only made him furrow his brow all the more.

“Just cut it — cut the one called ‘Peerless Beauty.’ Who knows, you might cut out a Female Sacred Spirit.” An old man spoke in near-temptation.

“If I really did cut out a Female Sacred Spirit, who in the Divine City could suppress her?” Ye Fan smiled.

“I can see that young friend’s heart is moved. Truly, this centerpiece treasure of our garden is not to be missed.” Some of the old men were even more anxious than Ye Fan himself, doing everything they could to persuade him.