Though the courtyard was run-down, it was quiet and peaceful. Several ancient trees swayed gently, casting a carpet of shade across the ground. Beside the old well, the small wretch scooped up a basin of clear water and washed away the grime, revealing a clean and delicate young face.

“Why are some portions of the ancient cultivation arts specific to the Sacred Body’s various secret realms missing?” Ye Fan asked.

The small wretch, hearing this, forgot to wipe the water from his face and came running over to listen to the conversation between his grandfather and Ye Fan. The yellow dog stuck out its tongue, wagged its tail, and circled around at his heels, looking thoroughly fawning.

Beneath an old peach tree, Ye Fan and Yang Yunteng both sat on green stones, discussing the ancient methods. Yang Yunteng was shocked. “These secret arts were passed down generation to generation — can it be that a portion was lost along the way?”

The ages had been too long — it was difficult to investigate. Their most precious ancient arts were incomplete. Both grandfather and grandson grew anxious and tense. For the ancestor had said: this was the Dao lineage of the Sacred Body, not to be lost. Only by cultivating this method could one day reach the Great Perfection — the true and complete fulfillment.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll fill in what’s missing.” Ye Fan released a thread of divine sense and imprinted the complete and extraordinary ancient method within their minds.

Ye Fan settled in and stayed. For several days in a row, he guided Yang Xi in his cultivation. The child was tremendously gifted — and combined with his serious, earnest diligence, his progress was dazzling.

The spiritual energy of the heavens and earth here had dried up — for Ye Fan, that was no obstacle at all. He laid down a small network of Source Heaven formations to gather the essence energy from all ten directions.

In truth, he could simply have produced blocks of divine ore, turning this place into a paradise of cultivation. But he did not wish for the small wretch to be introduced to that kind of cultivation environment from the very beginning.

“Settle the mind and gather the spirit — open up the Bitter Sea.” Beneath the ancient tree, Ye Fan was grave-faced, urging Yang Xi to pour his entire concentration into opening up his own Bitter Sea and unlocking his shackles.

Ye Fan helped him activate his meridians and stir the dormant golden sacred blood back to life, then stood to one side. Two hours later, the Bitter Sea that had seemed impenetrably solid suddenly blazed with light — as though melting — and dots of golden radiance began to appear.

“Ah — I’ve connected with spiritual energy. I can cultivate!” The small wretch was thunderstruck. He opened his eyes, overjoyed beyond measure, and shot straight to his feet.

Catching Ye Fan’s stern glare, Yang Xi quickly sat back down. “Master, I was wrong — I was just too excited. The last few generations of our family all failed to clear this hurdle.”

Ye Fan gave a small nod and did not reprimand him. The fallen Sacred Body clan had not been able to open even the Bitter Sea for the past several generations. Under the circumstances, his excitement was understandable.

The elder Yang Yunteng, drawing water at the well to irrigate his vegetable patch, felt a joy that came from the bottom of his heart. The wrinkles on his face seemed to smooth somewhat.

This ancient star surpassed even the Northern Dipper in its suppression — the Sacred Body here could not even clear the Bitter Sea hurdle. It was truly and utterly helpless.

After that, the small wretch became even more earnest. He began cultivating the Dao Scripture — an ancient and profoundly complex text, considered the finest of all the ancient scriptures of the Wheel of the Sea. Among Ye Fan’s disciples, from Ye Tong to Little Pine and even Hua Hua, all had touched upon it. Ye Fan had them study it carefully, believing it might influence a lifetime of cultivation. Now, meeting the small wretch, he used it once again as the foundation for his cultivation.

Ye Fan had authored the scripture, yet he himself had not reached the Great Perfection in it, and he had not casually bestowed it upon others. Nor did he want his disciples simply copying his path.

The small wretch knew nothing of the Dao Scripture — but Yang Yunteng the elder had heard of it, and his heart trembled with awe. To use this scripture as the foundation — the roots would be unfathomably deep and firm.

Yang Xi closed his eyes. Young as he was, sitting cross-legged there, he was like an immovable boulder — unmoving, unwavering in conviction, his entire self submerged in cultivation.

Opening the Bitter Sea could not be achieved in a single leap. What had occurred just now was only the dormant golden blood within him surging briefly — now it had stilled again.

Ye Fan gave a nod. That was good enough. The small wretch had been led onto the path of cultivation. A point of light the size of a grain of rice had appeared within his Bitter Sea — it needed constant development from here.

“Little wretch, come out!” Children were shouting from the alley.

“You useless Sacred Body, come out. Someone with the Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood is here to crush you.” A group of children stirred up a commotion.

Yang Xi opened his eyes. Anger flickered across his young face — but after a glance at Ye Fan, he quickly stilled himself. He listened to nothing, heard nothing, applied his mind to cultivation, shutting out all distractions.

Ye Fan gave a small nod. For a child of six or seven to quiet his heart this quickly — to make the bottled-up resentment and fury recede — that was no easy thing.

“The specialist killer of Sacred Bodies has arrived. The Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood sweeps all before it. Little wretch, come out — witness how powerful the bloodline of those who crushed your ancestor truly is.” A group of children continued to taunt.

Yang Yunteng sighed and shook his head, helpless.

Yang Xi was very still, not saying a single word. Sitting cross-legged on the green stone, he seized every second to cultivate, cherishing this opportunity that had not come easily.

A long time passed. The children outside were still calling, tenacious and refusing to leave. Finally, with a loud crash, the door was kicked open.

Yang Yunteng caught sight of a child at the back of the group and his expression faltered. An extraordinarily complex coldness crossed his deeply wrinkled face — and then he turned his head away.

“A child from the Cang Family?” Ye Fan asked.

“Yes.” Yang Yunteng nodded. He seemed deeply reluctant to speak of this family — a resentment and knot of grievance he could not dissolve.

“Yang Xi — go.” Ye Fan spoke up, letting the small wretch stop his cultivation and go out.

In the alley, a group of children shouted and jeered at Yang Xi. Yet they were clearly frightened of one child among them — the one wearing fine, precious clothing. At his wave of the hand, every one of them fell silent at once and dared not speak further.

On this ancient star, cultivation was nearly impossible. Only this one region could barely support the practice. This city sat within that cultivable zone, and the majority of its residents were disciples of various sects and schools who knew the ways of cultivation.

These children came from various sects large and small, all deferring to that one child, treating him as their absolute leader.

His name was Cang Yun. He appeared only every ten to fifteen days. Each time he came out, it was to find the small wretch and beat him bloody and broken. Today was no different.

“Is that a child from the Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood line on the other ancient life-bearing star?” Ye Fan asked.

Yang Yunteng gave a small nod, his expression cold. He felt fury and hatred for this family. Over these years, they had become increasingly excessive, trampling the dignity of the Sacred Body line again and again.

“They are descendants of the Tyrant Body. For most of them, the bloodline has grown thin — but it has not affected their ability to cultivate. To instill conviction in their children, they deliberately send some of them to this star.”

It had been this way for so many years. Yang Yunteng sometimes thought about it and felt a deep sadness. The line of the human race’s Sacred Body had become a sparring target for others — humiliated like this.

When Ye Fan had paid his respects before the lone grave on the human race’s sacred land, he had already learned from the low murmurs of those two Sacred Realm beings that the one with the Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood had been buried on the other ancient star. That family’s descendants had come searching for it and stayed to guard the burial site — never leaving.

Relatively speaking, that family was in a very different situation from this one. Though their bloodline had grown thin over the ages and a true Tyrant Body had not been born in a long time, they remained powerful nonetheless.

The Cang Clan spared no effort in cultivating the next generation. When their children were very young, they were sent to live on this star for a few years — this star where cultivation was nearly impossible — so that they would understand the shifts in the Dao and be tempered through hardship and struggle, cultivating their understanding.

This was an ancestral rule, unchangeable. Ye Fan heard it and his heart stirred — he felt the remarkable qualities of this clan.

But in recent ages, the descendants of the Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood line had gone too far. They sent children specifically to target the Sacred Body line, constantly bullying them — every time leaving them beaten bloody and broken.

“The Tyrant Body is inherently superior to the Sacred Body. Invincible under heaven. From childhood, you must surpass them — trample them underfoot — build an invincible conviction.”

These were words someone of the Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood clan had actually said when teaching their children. Yang Yunteng the elder burned with fury every time he recalled it.

“You little Sacred Body, you don’t stand a chance against a Tyrant Body. Today you’ll get beaten bloody again just like always.” Several children taunted.

Yang Xi had only just begun opening his Bitter Sea — barely at the entry stage. Though he possessed innate divine strength, he was no match for Cang Yun, who had been building his Foundation for years and understood Dao techniques.

Cang Yun was not very old, yet he carried a coldness that did not match his years. With a single kick he sent the small wretch flying, then followed after him and planted his foot on the boy’s chest.

“My ancestor was victorious. The Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood line will always be superior to the Sacred Body. In every generation, we will stand upon your clan — your line will never defeat ours.”

Yang Yunteng, despite his great age, was so enraged by a child’s words that he seized a mallet inside the courtyard and nearly charged out. His one lame leg was a wound from the time he had rushed out in fury to argue on behalf of his son — and paid for it.

And now, his grandson was being treated the same way — suffering constant humiliation. His chest heaved violently, his face flushing red.

Ye Fan held him back. A thread of golden light rose from the ground and slipped into the child Cang Yun’s body, draining him of his strength in an instant.

Though using this to deal with a child was beneath his dignity, the situation called for it.

The small wretch was enormously strong. He flipped Cang Yun over in an instant and rained down blows. In just a few strikes, he had Cang Yun’s nose caved in — snot and tears streaming freely, blood flowing without cease.

“Whether or not you have the Heaven-Dominating Tyrant Blood flowing inside you — it amounts to nothing. If we had trained for the same length of time, I alone could fight a hundred of you. My ancestor was stronger than the Tyrant Body!”

All the other children were struck dumb — they had no idea what to do.

All these years, Yang Yunteng the elder had lived feeling profoundly stifled. He had not taken good enough care of his son — his son had passed away early. And now his grandson was being bullied as well. Yet watching even these half-grown children get beaten down, he felt not one shred of guilt.

“My grandchild — is he truly experiencing an ancestral reversion, with boundless sacred blood in him?” He asked Ye Fan in a trembling voice, as though working up to make some kind of decision.

“Yes. As long as he is willing to work hard, he will be no weaker than his Sacred Body ancestor.” Ye Fan said.

“Then there are some things our ancestor left behind — entrusted to the escort guide line for safekeeping. Perhaps… they can be of great use to both you and my grandson.” After saying these words, the old man seemed as though a knot in his heart had been untied. He let out a long, slow breath.