Both Ye Fan and the Holy Emperor’s Son were deeply shaken. Based on what the Black Emperor had said, it seemed as though certain Great Emperors were still alive — could this truly be?

“Black Emperor, are your words true? Are there actually ancient Great Emperors still living?” Ye Fan asked urgently.

“They’re all dead — not a single one survived…” The Black Emperor grew somber, vigorously shaking its enormous head as it poured wine into its mouth.

“Then what did you mean just now?” The Holy Emperor’s Son shot it a sideways glance.

“There are no emperors in this world — what I mean is… the true Great Emperors are all dead.” It let out a low growl, then crashed down with a thud, clutching a wine jar as it passed out drunk.

Ye Fan and the Holy Emperor’s Son looked at each other helplessly — there was truly nothing to be done with this creature. They turned toward Ji Zi, intending to question him, for he was a true Imperial Son.

Ji Zi was not much of a talker. He sat drinking alone the entire time, as though completely at odds with the world around him. His appearance was ordinary, his bearing unremarkable — it was difficult to connect him with the Son of the Void.

“I was sealed away very early. How would I know of my father’s whereabouts?” Ji Zi gazed out the window. Stars and moonlight filled the sky, and he seemed to be trying to pierce through the heavens themselves.

“He buried himself in the boundless void. Not even my elder brothers could see him off. By now he is either a frozen corpse drifting through the dark cosmos, or he has already dissolved into the Dao and become dust.” Ji Zi said this with perfect calm.

The Guanghan Palace hung suspended in midair. Moonlight spilled down in a hazy, ethereal glow — it was a tranquil and otherworldly place.

To the sound of soft songs and flowing music, Ye Fan, the Holy Emperor’s Son, and Ji Zi drank a great deal. Before long they had all relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

In the second half of the night, all fell utterly silent.

“I want to enter the Immortal Domain and find the Wushi Great Emperor.” Deep in the night, the Black Emperor ground its teeth and muttered in its sleep.

“The Innate Holy Body Dao Fetus must come into this world. The Great Emperor said that his only successor could be of such a constitution. I must make him appear — I will resurrect the Great Emperor.” The Black Emperor gritted its teeth. These sleep-spoken words startled everyone in the Guanghan Palace into a moment of dazed unease and fright.

At dawn, a ray of morning light spilled through the windows and into the main hall, and everyone’s eyes gradually opened.

“Black Emperor, last night you said—” Ye Fan attempted to press the matter.

“I said what? I said nothing at all!” The big black dog immediately reversed course, like a completely different creature.

“You still want to swallow back everything you said in the night?” Ye Fan glared at it.

“Kid, debts must be repaid. When are you going to pay back the Innate Holy Body Dao Fetus you owe me?” The big black dog demanded, staring with its copper-bell eyes.

Ye Fan gave it a slap. This scoundrel had fully come back to its old self — every trace of melancholy and sorrow had been hurled to the farthest corners of the sky.

“Debts must be repaid — it’s the way of heaven and earth!” The Black Emperor bared its teeth. Then, as if it had suddenly remembered something, it leapt up high and cried: “Disaster! I’ve missed a great opportunity — quickly, let’s go see if we’re still in time!”

“What is it?” Even Ji Zi showed a look of surprise.

“The Heavenly Emperor’s Son is dead, and the Eight Divine Generals have all been wiped out. Let’s go raid the main peaks where those ancestral kings are in closed-door cultivation.” The Black Emperor set up a formation platform and quickly opened a domain gate.

The others immediately understood — there were indeed sacred treasuries to be found. They all stepped through the domain gate at once and rapidly vanished from that place.

In the Northern Region, the land stretched vast and scorched. They arrived at the Undying Heavenly Emperor’s former traveling palace, their target this time being the several main peaks surrounding it.

“Damn it, we came too late — someone’s already torn through this place, not even a hair left behind!” The Black Emperor was furious.

Each of the main peaks had been visited by powerful individuals. The ground had been dug up three feet deep, not a blade of grass remaining — swept absolutely clean.

“This looks like grave robbing — there are so many pits dug here…” Even Ye Fan was speechless.

“This really was broken into using grave-robbing methods — using the Heaven-Devouring Demon Seal to force the way in. That was… that cursed Duan De!” The big black dog raged.

Ye Fan was equally dumbfounded. That fat Duan truly was everywhere — wherever there was treasure, he appeared, and his reactions were far too swift.

In the end, deep within the mountain range, they discovered another burial garden belonging to the ancestors of the Eight Divine Generals — only to find that it, too, had already been visited.

“That turtle-bastard — wherever he passes, he cleans the place out completely. Don’t even dream of leaving a single hair behind. The living and the dead alike, all plundered.”

In the end, the big black dog headed to the Village of Heaven. The monkey also went into closed-door cultivation. The path to immortality was about to open, and everyone had to begin making preparations.

Ye Fan and Ji Zi traveled south together, returning to the Southern Region — he wanted to visit old acquaintances.

“The Ji Family… hmph!”

At that moment, a powerful aura surged through the Southern Region, directed squarely at the Ji Family. Though it was not aimed at exterminating the clan, the pressure it emanated was unmistakable.

Yet in that very instant, the mysterious ancestral king of an ancient clan went pale as snow, turned, and left — not daring to remain in the Southern Region a moment longer.

Ye Fan and Ji Zi arrived just in time to witness this scene. Ji Zi was perfectly calm, as though he had long anticipated it.

A family that has produced a Great Emperor truly has unfathomable depths, Ye Fan thought to himself.

They parted ways there. Ye Fan headed directly for the Taixuan Zhuo Peak. The place was overgrown with weeds and held no signs of spiritual scenery — nothing had changed from before.

A few ancient buildings on the verge of collapse lay hidden beneath old vines. Crows perched on withered trees, and wild rabbits darted along narrow paths.

Ye Fan sensed no trace of the elder Li Ruoyu’s aura — only Zhang Wenchang, whose temples had gone white over the course of more than ten years, his face carved with far more weathering than before.

“Ye Fan… is it truly you!”

He leapt up from among the crumbling structures, his heart surging with emotion, and quickly walked out to meet him.

“You succeeded in returning to Earth, and now you’ve appeared again…” Zhang Wenchang’s body trembled, almost convulsing, as he seized Ye Fan’s arm. His face was written over with hope and longing.

“It’s me…” Ye Fan patted him on the shoulder.

“My parents, my wife and child — how are they?” Zhang Wenchang’s voice trembled, and even a trace of dread crept into it. Though he had cultivated the Dao for many years, he now could not contain himself, terrified of hearing some terrible news.

When he had left, his wife had been with child — the baby nearly due to be born. At the very moment they needed him most, he had vanished from Mount Tai.

“They are all well. Your parents have grown old — all people must face the cycle of age and death in their time… You have a child. His name is Zhang Yi, and his face looks very much like yours.” Ye Fan said.

“And she…” Zhang Wenchang’s lips quivered.

Ye Fan understood naturally — he was asking about his wife. In those days the two of them had been deeply devoted to each other, yet no one could have foreseen that the heavens would separate them to opposite ends of the world.

“She is a good woman. She has been caring for your parents all this time, raising your child until he grew up. There is a decent man… who treats her well.” Ye Fan said.

Zhang Wenchang fell silent, his throat tightening. He walked step by step toward the crumbling courtyard wall and sank down powerlessly onto a broken stone, holding his head in his hands.

“I… how much I want to return to her side. But these heavens — this star domain — tore us apart by force.” Tears traced the lines of his no-longer-young face.

What could Ye Fan say? He sat beside him in silence, taking out a pack of cigarettes he had brought from the other end of the starry sky and quietly tearing it open.

In those years, Zhang Wenchang had been no small smoker.

“Cough…” Zhang Wenchang trembled as he held the cigarette, drew in a deep breath, and broke into loud coughing — tears choking out of him once more.

In this moment, he was not a cultivator. He was simply an ordinary middle-aged man, even beginning to step into the twilight years of his life.

“Time… the starry sky… I hate it!” He could not stop himself from crying out to the heavens.

And then he wept openly — white temples, eyes lined with wrinkles, tears clouded and thick. The fingers holding his cigarette shook and trembled, barely able to bring it to his lips.

“What severing of the Dao, what immortal path — I want none of it. I only want to return to their side, grow old together with them, be an ordinary mortal. I don’t want to remain in this world.”

Zhang Wenchang coughed, gazing up at the sky.

Ye Fan took out some photographs and several video recordings he had deliberately brought along, laying them in a pile before the ruined hall, leaving Zhang Wenchang to look through them slowly on his own.

“This is… my child?” Zhang Wenchang leafed through the photographs with unsteady hands, running his fingers over them again and again.

“This was him as a little boy… he really looks like me.” He laughed and wept at once.

When he had finished looking through everything, Zhang Wenchang gazed at a photograph of his wife — a flood of emotions washing through his eyes: longing, sorrow, happiness, conflict.

“I have wronged her… I only hope she can find happiness.” Having said this, tears streamed down his face. He stood, stumbling, and ran into the desolate ruined hall.

Ye Fan said nothing, nor did he offer any consolation. He wandered across the peak of Zhuo, taking in the old sights of the place.

The nine jade steps that Ji Ziyue had once mounted — where was she now? The nine old crows were still there, though who would know that they were divine beings, transformed from nine arrows.

A day later, Zhang Wenchang reappeared, looking considerably more haggard, as though he had aged twenty years overnight.

“Try to find some peace.”

“I know. As long as they are all well — what more could I ask for?” Zhang Wenchang said, holding back his tears by force. He had only one purpose left in this life — to cultivate the Dao. Perhaps one day he might return and see them.

Elder Li Ruoyu was not at Zhuo Peak. He had set off six years ago to wander the world and had not returned since — a source of no small regret to Ye Fan.

Zhang Wenchang’s cultivation was not particularly high. After decades of cultivation, he had only recently entered the early stages of the Dragon Transformation Secret Realm, though his foundation was very solid.

Ye Fan had wanted to lend him a hand, but Zhang Wenchang shook his head and said, “Elder Li told me — it doesn’t matter if I go slowly. He told me to calm my heart and not be in a rush to achieve results.”

He then brought up another matter: “Ten years ago, I saw Lin Jia. She was still alive — Liu Yunzhi, Li Changqing, and the others never managed to capture her back then.”

“What?” Ye Fan’s heart stirred.

“She came upon a great opportunity at an immortal palace outside the ancient forbidden land, saying it might be a corner of the Ancient Heavenly Court — perhaps with a path leading outside this domain…”

When she learned that Ye Fan had found a way to leave this world, she had gone to seek out that immortal fate as well, believing that place might hold a path to the starry sky.

“And Lin Jia suspects that Zhou Yi and Wang Ziwen may never have actually gotten out back then — they are either still inside that immortal palace, or they accidentally ended up in an entirely different star domain.”

“Remnants of the Ancient Heavenly Court…” Ye Fan furrowed his brow.

He left the Taixuan Zhuo Peak and once again made his way toward the ancient forbidden land, standing at its outer boundary — but found nothing.

Can the immortal palace only be discovered by someone who walks out from within the forbidden zone? But who could guarantee they would be able to enter in the first place?

Perhaps one day those few people would walk out of the immortal palace — or perhaps they had already traveled to another star domain. He turned this over in his mind in silence.

“Starry sky — how many secrets do you truly hold? How many life-bearing ancient stars exist? Where in the end do the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin seek to go?” Ye Fan looked up at the sky and murmured softly.

For now, he had no time to delve into these questions. The path to immortality was about to appear, and the heavens only knew what this world would become — everyone needed to begin making preparations.

He left the ancient forbidden land and passed by the Ji Family’s grounds once more, whispering quietly, “Where are you?”

Ye Fan made a decision: once he had settled certain matters, he would make a trip to the Residence of the Extraordinary. If it truly came to it, he would go to the aid of his old companions.

He deployed the chessboard formation platform, opened a domain gate, and in the next moment appeared in the Western Desert — where he immediately felt a mysterious spiritual force pressing against him.