A divine moon hung in the sky, pure and brilliant, its moonlight cascading down like flowing water. This stretch of mountain terrain seemed veiled in a layer of gauze — pale, hazy, and dreamlike.
On the stone cliff, the weapon etchings were few, their carvings crude, yet now everything was different. Moonlight poured down in a gentle flood, and the weapon etchings were glowing and flowing.
“It’s changed — turning the commonplace into something divine…” Ye Fan was astonished, his gaze fixed unblinking upon them.
The clumsy carvings had transformed into expressions of Dao, each groove resembling a true dragon, a great Peng bird, a qilin, a divine phoenix — indescribably wondrous.
The moon reached its fullness at the center of the sky. Moonlight flowed down like water. Every etching on the stone cliff came alive — the carved lines moved, utterly unlike what he had seen moments before.
An ancient aura surged toward him, carrying within it both the weight of ages and a grand, vast presence. The markings of Daoism flickered; a faint and distant divine sound drifted over.
Ye Fan’s heart shuddered. He could scarcely believe what he was witnessing. These weapon etchings, which had been so utterly crude only moments ago, were now turned completely upside down — an entirely different sight.
He saw a great cauldron — a round cauldron with three legs and two ears. Dao gives birth to one, one gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, representing the tangible marks of the Dao. He saw a great bell — singular and unique beneath heaven and earth, representing time and eternity. He beheld an ancient pagoda — nine tiers in total, representing the nine heavens, boundless in space.
Mirrors, furnaces, spears, swords, staffs, and other weapons appeared one by one, each representing a mysterious law, each with a different world manifesting around it — profound and intricate beyond measure.
Ye Fan was transfixed. His mind and spirit could not pull away; he was fully immersed. In a trance, he heard someone chanting scripture — the sound coming from beyond the realm, entering directly into the depths of his heart.
He opened his mind, let his divine consciousness grow still and serene, and slowly contemplated — observing with great care, listening as though to the opening words of the great Dao at the dawn of creation, utterly entranced, his eyes filled with nothing but ancient weapons.
Yet whenever he strove to grasp it, it felt elusive and distant, always just out of reach. So close, yet impossibly far.
Cauldrons, bells, pagodas, spears, swords — the weapons cycled through. The cliff etchings flickered, transforming in this moment into what seemed like a jade disk, gradually becoming crystalline and luminous, breathing in and out moonlight.
Ye Fan became selfless and objectless, standing motionless before the stone cliff. At his brow, that pool of golden light blazed with intensity as a small golden figure stepped out, hovering before his forehead.
The small golden figure was identical to Ye Fan, staring at the etchings, its entire body flickering with Dao markings — imprints of the Dao — carrying an inexpressible grace.
In this moment, the cauldrons, bells, pagodas, furnaces, mirrors, spears, swords — all of them began to rotate. Then they began to reassemble, and then to break apart, condensing at last into a single character — Bing!
The moment that character appeared, the heavens, earth, and star universe all stirred. Ye Fan felt his eardrums buzzing and humming as a great celestial sound descended from beyond the realm, deafening and awe-inspiring.
Each word was like a blade, each sentence like a sword, slashing through one’s divine soul. An ordinary person could not have withstood it — it could very nearly shatter one’s psyche and cleave open one’s sea of consciousness.
Ye Fan’s divine consciousness — the small golden figure — had been tempered through more than a dozen heavenly tribulations, absorbing and drawing in heavenly lightning, honed to incomparable refinement. Thus he was able to endure it.
Even so, he was still struck hard by the impact — like an eternal immortal weapon being suppressed upon him, leaving him deeply shaken, on the verge of crying out to the sky.
“The Bing character secret!”
Enduring this agony of a blade-edge bearing down and threatening to shatter him, Ye Fan could not help but let out a startled cry. So long sought, so painstakingly pursued — the main peak searched from top to bottom, and still unfound.
In the end, the last thing he had expected was to encounter the ninth secret’s Bing character technique on a stone cliff at the rear of the mountain. Joy beyond words swept over him — having doubted whether a path forward existed, he had at last found the true scripture.
The Bing character secret was unlike the previous secrets. Like a world-shaking immortal weapon, each of its words struck at the divine soul, shaking the cultivator to their very core. Moreover, the scripture was lengthy.
The main peak was not lofty — only a few hundred meters taller than the surrounding lower hills. Behind the mountain, ancient trees swayed gently, moonlight drifted down, and a deep peace pervaded. Occasionally a night bird would cry, making the silence feel even more profound.
Ye Fan’s ears roared with rumbling thunder — each character was like a thunderbolt detonating — yet outside, everything remained perfectly still. No one knew any of this was happening.
Before his brow, the small golden figure sat cross-legged. Above its head hovered a Bodhi Seed, from which beams of Dao light descended, connecting together with Ye Fan toward that character “Bing.”
He did not know how long passed before he emerged from that wondrous state. The divine moon was pure and gentle, the rear of the mountain a sheet of white, as though countless divine feathers had drifted down.
“So this is the Bing character secret!”
Sword-control arts, instrument-control arts — compared to this, those were nothing but minor techniques, not worth mentioning at all. This was the true sacred art of mastering weapons, offering the highest possible interpretation of how to control a “weapon.”
“If one masters this secret, even if the enemy wields a king-level divine weapon, or even a world-inheriting sacred weapon, there is a chance to seize it bare-handed!”
Ye Fan was shaken inwardly. Such peerless weapons — to possess even one of them was to be able to run rampant across the world and be invincible to almost all. Yet the Bing character secret could contend with them, even wrest sacred weapons with bare hands.
It could be imagined: if one’s cultivation were sufficiently powerful and this secret cultivated to a sufficient level, one could even seize supreme imperial weapons — a notion so outrageous it made people tremble.
“This one secret is too terrifying. Even an immortal sacred ground, or an eternal divine dynasty, that possesses the weapons of an ancient great emperor might not be invincible in this world.”
Ye Fan marveled. If a sage mastered the Bing character secret, it was not impossible that they might truly be able to seize even a supreme imperial weapon.
Weapons were the greatest support for cultivators, capable of infinitely amplifying combat power. But with the Bing character secret in play, this would spell catastrophe for many — an overturning of all balance.
“The Nine Secrets — each one defies heaven itself. No wonder they drew divine jealousy, were split apart, and had their transmission severed.”
Once this secret was mastered, every grain of sand and every stone in the world could become a weapon — even the enemy’s weapons were, in a sense, made for you. Its profundity was beyond words.
Ye Fan could not calm himself. The Bing character secret was too terrifying; it had to be mastered and kept within his grasp. In the future, its uses would be boundless.
Yet this one secret was extremely difficult to cultivate. Its conditions were extraordinarily demanding. To control ten thousand weapons, one must first master one — one had to refine one’s own immortal weapon. This was the foundation.
After his contemplation, Ye Fan was greatly taken aback. Refining one’s own unique immortal weapon was similar in spirit to the concept of “one weapon breaking ten thousand techniques” he had previously adhered to — yet it was far more profound and intricate.
The unique immortal weapon was the very foundation of the Bing character secret. It was the cultivator’s sole vessel for attaining the Dao — the Progenitor Weapon.
“Starting from refining one’s own weapon…” Ye Fan was excited. With the Bing character secret now in hand, he could better forge the object of his Dao — the Primal Chaos Mother Qi Cauldron.
From just a brief moment of contemplation, he had already perceived the terrifying nature of king-level divine weapons and world-inheriting sacred weapons. They were living weapons — in a certain sense, an extension of their wielder’s own life.
As for supreme imperial weapons — those had already defied heaven itself, seizing the creative power of the universe. Their profundity was beyond words; they invited the jealousy of heaven, and only by reaching that level could one understand them.
Ye Fan quietly contemplated. The Bing character secret was vast and deep — from forging weapons to nurturing them, to controlling them, encompassing all things. From the birth of a weapon to how to wield it, every aspect was laid out in exquisite detail.
“By using the Bing character technique to refine my cauldron, I can bring it to a state of perfect completion!”
The rear mountain was serene, with no one coming to disturb him. He did not know how long passed, but when Ye Fan looked up, the bright moon had shifted, the stone cliff had grown dark, and the weapon diagram had vanished.
Ye Fan had come to the Qinmen, and in total had been there close to two years. Now, at last, he had obtained the Nine Secrets he had sought. In truth, he owed thanks to the Moon Spirit Princess — because of her indirect role in the matter, the opportunity had come to fruition. Otherwise, who knew when he might have found it.
“The Qinmen sect master’s lineage truly are descendants of the Cai clan. They have the Salvation Scripture and the Bing character secret — immensely powerful. What other legacies do they hold?”
Ye Fan did not leave. He had a persistent feeling that the Qinmen held many secrets. Even the Green Emperor ten thousand years ago had moved against them — truly, what hidden mysteries lay within?
It had to be said that the Qinmen’s main peak was a pure land. As long as one avoided listening to the Supreme Sect Master and the others expound on the Dao, there was no fear of being converted. It was quite suitable for cultivation.
Thereafter, Ye Fan divided his time between cultivation and observation. He noticed that the Moon Spirit Princess would move to a different mountain at regular intervals, but always remained in the vicinity of the main peak and never went too far.
Before long, he also noticed that the Sickly Elder was wandering about — not near the Qinmen, however, but frequently entering deep into the vast mountain range of millions of miles, appearing often before certain lakes.
Ye Fan was surprised to discover that the Sickly Elder was searching for the Immortal Transformation Pool. Whenever he came upon a lake marked with such an ancient stele, he would leap into the water and search through it.
Whether the Immortal Transformation Pool truly existed was difficult to confirm. Its secrets were said to belong to the immortals. Moreover, people throughout the ages had said that the Green Emperor was born within it, which only added another layer of mystery to it.
“In the boundless mountain ranges, there are dozens upon hundreds of lakes marked with such steles claiming to be the Immortal Transformation Pool. Heaven knows which one is real — if any are at all. What is he trying to do?”
From ancient times to the present, countless powerful cultivators had come in search of it, yet none had ever confirmed which pool was the true immortal lake. All of them had returned disappointed.
“Old brother, what exactly are you searching for?” One day, Ye Fan could finally contain himself no longer and asked the Sickly Elder.
This old man was unfathomably profound — Ye Fan could not gauge his depth at all. Previously, he had offered Ye Fan guidance, informing him that the Salvation Scripture was on the main peak and that going there would most likely bring calamity.
“I am searching for an immortal opportunity. Unfortunately… such things cannot be sought — only encountered. It seems I have little hope.” The Sickly Elder sighed softly.
“The Immortal Transformation Pool… what immortal opportunity does it hold?” Ye Fan was puzzled.
“Do you know why the Green Emperor was able to attain the Dao and become an Emperor in the later Archaic Era — shaking ancient and modern times, becoming the greatest figure of the past hundred thousand years?”
“Could it be related to the immortal pool?”
“In the beginning, it was very much related. He was born within the Immortal Transformation Pool, and gained tremendous benefit from it.”
The Sickly Elder was deeply mysterious, knowing many secrets that others did not. The words that came from his mouth left people wide-eyed with astonishment.
“That was an immortal pool. Heaven knows what treasures were nurtured within it. The Green Emperor was born as a green lotus, and in his earliest moments took root in the muddy bottom beneath the lake water, planted upon a piece of green copper.”
“What?!” Ye Fan was startled. In an instant, he thought of the green copper block within his body.
It was said that this had been taken by the Green Emperor from Central Province just before his final transformation, stirring up an enormous storm. The five great regions were all shaken, and great chaos erupted.
“The Immortal Transformation Pool is a truly immortal lake. From the Primordial Era to the present, it has gathered boundless divine materials within it — and some immortal treasures lie submerged inside.”
According to the Sickly Elder, the green copper was itself an immortal treasure — a fragment of one. It could seize the creative power of the universe, and perhaps more fragments lay within the pool.
“The Cai clan had great fortune — someone from among them once entered the Immortal Transformation Pool…” the Sickly Elder said.
Ye Fan’s heart leaped. He felt that the secret behind the Green Emperor’s destruction of the Cai clan was about to be revealed — the mystery of thirty thousand years ago was on the verge of being swept away. The origins of this immortal pool were truly startling.
The Sickly Elder sighed softly and did not continue on that thread. Instead, he spoke of other secrets, saying: “At the end of the immortal path, who stands at the summit? One glimpse of Wushi, and the Dao dissolves to nothing. More than a hundred and thirty thousand years ago, that great emperor sought to use immortal treasures to refine an imperial bell and also came to the Immortal Transformation Pool.”
“The material for the Wushi Bell was taken from the Immortal Transformation Pool?” Ye Fan was astonished.
The Sickly Elder nodded. “It was an immortal treasure submerged within the immortal pool.”
Ye Fan was truly shaken. The forging of the Wushi Bell had such hidden circumstances behind it — the Wushi Great Emperor had actually come to the Immortal Transformation Pool. Clearly, this ancient pool was truly extraordinary.
“Two thousand years ago, a traveler from beyond this realm who rode a green ox also entered the Immortal Transformation Pool. Not long after, a monk calling himself Shakyamuni also went in.”
“What?!” Ye Fan shot to his feet.