Ye Fan opened his Heavenly Eye and saw clearly that there was something within the coffin — Dao-markings undulating gently within. It was an old jade casket, of an extremely ancient style, dull and without luster, yet stored within the coffin with the utmost care and reverence.

His heart stirred greatly. Chi Songzi’s origins were enormous — venerated as an immortal by Daoism. Could anything he left behind be ordinary?

“Chi Songzi — breathing in and breathing out, exhaling the old and drawing in the new. Casting off form and discarding thought, embracing simplicity and returning to the true — wandering through the mysterious and profound, ascending to commune with the clouds and sky.” This passage from the Huainanzi — Equalizing Customs described Chi Songzi’s mystical nature, marking him as an immortal of the ancient era.

“Chi Songzi was the Rain Master of the age of the Divine Farmer. He ingested water jade and taught it to the Divine Farmer. He could enter fire and burn himself alive.”

This passage from the Biographies of Exemplary Immortals states that he was a man of the age of the Divine Farmer — that he even taught the Divine Farmer methods of the Dao before Divine Farmer attained enlightenment. One could say that his origins were enough to make one tremble, for he was one of the most renowned cultivators of the ancient era!

As for who the Divine Farmer was — Ye Fan had already stepped onto the path of cultivation, and he had every reason to believe that figure was one of the most powerful few in all of ancient China. That Chi Songzi was of the same era and had even transmitted methods to him spoke volumes about his own supreme status — deeply, profoundly awe-inspiring.

And there was yet another record. In the ancient era, before the Yellow Emperor had attained the Dao, he too had gone to Chi Songzi for guidance — recorded in the Chi Songzi Admonishment Scripture in a lengthy dialogue covering a great many topics.

To say Chi Songzi was the most renowned cultivator of the ancient era was no exaggeration. Both his status and his cultivation were frightfully profound — no one could fathom his depths.

The ancient era is too remote — no one can say with certainty how many ages it spanned. Today, people generally estimate that the age of the Yellow Emperor was approximately four thousand years ago, while others have discovered that many intervals of time have been lost to obscurity, and the true span of years is difficult to determine.

Such a person — renowned throughout the ancient era, venerated as an ancient immortal by Daoism — and yet here, in this place, Ye Fan had found his coffin. How could he not be shaken!

Little Pine was filled with curiosity. Once Ye Fan had dissolved the surrounding Solar Essence Fire, it crept forward as well, touching the ancient vine, then tapping against the bronze stele — a clear, ringing sound rang out each time.

How to open the coffin — this was a vexing problem. Surely he could not simply destroy the fire vine. That would show far too little respect for the dead.

He had no wish to do anything unseemly to the most renowned cultivator of the ancient era. He did not want to ruin the coffin — but he was certainly going to retrieve the jade casket.

The fire vine blazed with light all over its body, vivid as crimson evening clouds. Every leaf, at the slightest touch, rang out with a clear chime and was razor-sharp — capable of slicing through refined iron.

Its trunk could have been as wide as a barrel, coiling like a blood-colored true dragon in dormancy — vigorous and powerful, winding in forty-nine loops, one of which firmly encircled the coffin and held it suspended in midair.

Ye Fan tried several times, and even with his divine strength, the coils were nearly impossible to pry open. He could not bring the ancient coffin down, short of steeling himself to unleash the Six Paths of Reincarnation Fist and smash the ancient vine to pieces.

This was a spirit plant cultivated with the blood essence of a Sage. Whether it could even be destroyed was another question entirely — and if it could not, it would not be called a divine material for forging artifacts and weapons.

Little Pine’s body pulsed with flowing violet light. It tugged at the hem of Ye Fan’s robe and blinked its large eyes, pointing at the base of the bronze stele — it was embedded in the ground, and beneath the earth and stone, there were yet more characters.

The small purple creature was quite meticulous. It dug away the stone and rock and uncovered those characters, which resembled occult symbols, written in a script halfway between oracle bone and bronze inscription.

Ye Fan was glad he had acted with reverence and not been reckless. The inscriptions at the base of the bronze stele described the method for opening the coffin — clearly stating that any attempt to use force would mean the spirit vine was capable of killing even a half-Sage.

The fire vine that Chi Songzi had personally planted possessed a powerful sentience, having been soaked through with his blood. It was the guardian spirit of the coffin, and required to be fed with powerful blood essence before it would release the ancient coffin.

Upon careful examination, Ye Fan discovered that nothing less than the blood of a king who had cut through the Dao would satisfy the fire vine — with that condition attached, blood of insufficient spiritual nature would have no effect whatsoever.

He cut open his finger. As a human race Sacred Body, his blood was golden — surpassing even that of someone who had cut through the Dao. The spiritual nature of his blood was absolutely unquestionable.

Golden blood dripped down onto the fire vine. The leaves, vivid and glowing like wisps of smoke at dawn, rang out with a soft, gentle chime — and the branches and stems truly began to unfurl. The coffin descended slowly toward the ground.

Ye Fan’s heart surged with excitement — not for any other reason than this: a primordial immortal of breathtaking origins from the ancient era. What could the jade casket he had left behind contain? Perhaps the secret of eternal life — or perhaps the opportunity to become immortal?

He carefully pushed open the coffin lid. A mysterious ripple of Dao-markings emanated outward, revealing the interior — he peered within, and Little Pine leapt up to look as well.

Ye Fan let out a soft sigh. There was no possibility of Chi Songzi being resurrected. He had already dissolved into the Dao — at the bottom of the coffin, only a human-shaped impression remained, every trace of flesh and Dao-bone dissolved completely and utterly clean.

“Do even ancient immortals have to die?”

He murmured to himself. Throughout all of history, had there ever truly been anyone who could achieve eternal life? Even the ancient immortals venerated by Daoism had a finite lifespan — incapable of enduring alongside the world forever.

From the remnants left after dissolving into the Dao, waves of Dao-energy pulsed outward and expanded. His heart gave a powerful stir — he now understood Chi Songzi’s cultivation. He should have been a Great Sage!

“In that case, he was not a true immortal — merely one of the most powerful ‘humans’ in the history of humankind.” Ye Fan’s brow furrowed.

Seen from this angle, what Daoism called the ancient immortals was simply a form of achievement — not a true transcendence to immortality. They were still within the domain of humanity, only of extraordinarily profound cultivation.

“Does this world truly have immortals? Is eternal life a vague and unattainable goal that can never be reached?”

Ye Fan gave a long sigh. Great Sages of the human race had to die — the great emperors of antiquity ultimately dissolved into transformation. To this day, not a single person had survived. There was not one genuine example of anyone achieving immortality.

Immortality was only legend. Everything said about it was conjecture and fabrication by later generations. There was no real proof — the more one came to understand the truth of things, the more helpless one felt.

Chi Songzi was the best example. He was the most famous immortal of the ancient era — and in truth, his real identity was that of a Great Sage of the human race. He too had died, dissolving into the Dao right here in this place.

Beside the human-shaped impression left by his dissolution, seven palm-sized ancient swords had crumbled to dust — dissolving clean away alongside Chi Songzi, leaving not a single fragment behind.

Ye Fan understood all too well: those had undoubtedly been Sage-level weapons. Seven flying swords — crimson, violet, golden, blue, and more — their blazing light visible even just from the sword intent they had imprinted in the stone chamber. Each was clearly a divine-grade weapon.

“What a terrible shame. Seven blades, all forged by the hand of a Great Sage of the human race — and all followed their master into dissolution.” His regret was immense.

At the same time, the thought occurred to him that Chi Songzi had come from Shu and Sichuan, using flying swords as his weapons. The legends of later ages spoke of Shushan being full of sword immortals — could they all trace their lineage back to him?

Ye Fan solemnly lifted the only remaining object within the coffin — the jade casket — and cradled it in both hands. That even Chi Songzi had treasured and guarded it with such care, even after dissolving into the Dao, unwilling to let it be destroyed — this alone spoke volumes about its mystery and preciousness.

He bowed once to the coffin, then pushed the lid back into place. It sealed shut without a gap, and the fire vine immediately coiled back up on its own, lifting the coffin into midair once more.

“The archaeological workers who come down here will have no way to deal with this place regardless. With the Solar Essence Fire present, no ordinary person can get near it — and I absolutely cannot hand this coffin over to them for research.”

A spirit vine growing vigorously within fire essence was far too mysterious. Modern people could never understand it, and if left exposed, this place would give rise to endless complications.

Ye Fan thought for a moment, then employed a great working of power — he carved and carved, separating the entire area below as one piece, then pressed it forcefully down into the deep earth, sending it a thousand zhang further below.

Finally, he sealed it with earth and stone, and carved out a new burial chamber in the original location, leaving traces of age upon it through his cultivation.

He made one more pass through the underground palace, removing every danger that could potentially harm ordinary people, and then departed, returning to the surface.

In the end, the armed military withdrew, for no further dangers had occurred underground. The archaeological workers moved in smoothly and their voices rang out one after another in stunned amazement.

Jade objects, chime bells, stone carvings — exquisite and magnificent, each a priceless work of art, certain to shake the world of archaeology. Yang Xiao and the others threw themselves into the work with their whole hearts — unbeknownst to them, a world of mysteries and ancient secrets involving the remote era had been sealed away by Ye Fan.

At this moment, Ye Fan stood beneath an ancient tree on Baling Mountain, and carefully opened the jade casket. Inside was only a fragment of bone — plain and unremarkable, dull and without any luster.

He could not help but feel puzzled. Just a fragment of bone — at first glance, there was nothing remarkable about it at all. Yet this was something Chi Songzi had stored with such careful reverence. A figure of tremendous renown — speak of cultivation in the ancient era, and his name must be mentioned.

The bone fragment was unusually heavy. Tapped lightly with a finger, it rang out with a clear, metallic chime — a reverberating tone of pure metal. Whatever creature’s bone this was, there was no knowing — it was so hard that even when Ye Fan squeezed it with considerable force, it did not crack.

He opened his Heavenly Eye and discovered four ancient characters. In that instant, his heart was shaken to its core.

The Opportunity to Become Immortal.

Ye Fan had become near-obsessed with the word “immortal” — for the more he understood, the more despairing he felt, unable to see a single shred of proof. Even Chi Songzi was dead.

And yet the relic left behind by Chi Songzi was this bone fragment — four characters that seemed to carry a kind of power, pointing to something he had guarded with his life until his very last breath.

With his Heavenly Eye open, Ye Fan angled the bone fragment continuously toward the sunlight. Different angles of light revealed different patterns of veining. He held his breath, observing intently.

Then he compared it carefully, carving the image into the ground — mountains and peaks, great rivers, gorges and ravines — the terrain complex and intricate. This was a topographical map.

Ye Fan’s heart gave a violent lurch. An expression of pure disbelief crossed his face. He quickly reproduced in the earth the stone carving he had seen in the underground palace of Mount Lu, placed the two side by side — and froze.

The two maps each had one edge that could be joined together, forming a single whole — describing one and the same place!

In the underground palace of Mount Lu, that figure was undoubtedly a primordial Sage — imprisoned there, tormented beyond all measure, their very torso severed. Yet they had survived with extraordinary tenacity, until merely a hundred years ago, when they finally carved the stone diagram and breathed their last.

Ye Fan had every reason to form a series of conjectures.

The one who had acted against them was most likely trying to force the location of this stone map from them — but had never succeeded. Perhaps, a hundred years ago, the one chained to the altar had sensed that the heavens and earth had long since been utterly transformed, that everything of the ancient era had been reduced to ash and dust — and had chosen to leave the stone carving behind, unwilling to let the secret vanish from the world.

To imprison a primordial Sage, to extract a secret map through force — just how powerful a figure would be capable of such a thing? And what they were after was surely something world-shaking. Without needing to think, one knew the stakes were immense!

And now, the four words — The Opportunity to Become Immortal — made everything clear without another word needing to be said. Even the great emperors of antiquity, upon seeing them, would have their hearts moved.

“With the edges joined, this map has doubled in size — and yet it is obvious at a glance that the terrain depicted is still incomplete. Toward where, in the end, does it point?”

Chi Songzi. An unknown primordial Sage. Each held one piece of the map. Each guarded it with their life. Each carried it to their dying moment — that alone declared its worth beyond all price.