This man appeared to be no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age, with a tall and upright build and notably long arms. Most striking of all was that pair of palms — each a full size larger than an ordinary person’s, like two small fans.

His complexion was luminous and translucent, as though tiny glimmers of starlight had condensed within his skin. Those particularly thick and large palms, moreover, had the same translucent quality as white jade — not only smooth and fine, but nearly transparent.

Beside them, the cultivators who had been disarmed and sent flying into the undergrowth by Ye Fan now all showed a flicker of excitement on their faces. A Divine Bridge peak realm cultivator stood on a level far above them — one that left them unable to even fathom his power.

“Senior Brother Yang must really teach him a proper lesson. Otherwise he’ll truly think that our Star Peak has no one worthy, and make him understand just how vast the heavens and earth really are.”

“Senior Brother, your combat power has reached the Divine Bridge peak realm, and you can cross into the Far Shore realm at any time. Please don’t strike too hard — don’t flatten him into a meat patty all at once, that would be no fun at all. Be very careful, just shatter his hands will do — leave his life intact. We very much want to see his expression afterward.”

They seemed to have already seen the wretched sight of Ye Fan’s bones shattered, his hands broken and crushed — the battle had not even begun, yet they already felt as if they had let out a breath of pent-up resentment.

Senior Brother Yang gave a slight smile and said nothing. He walked forward with large strides. Tall and towering, he stood two heads above Ye Fan — who looked no older than fourteen — and looked down at him from above. “In truth, you are quite capable — your physical body is genuinely strong. If you admit your wrongs right now, I won’t make things difficult for you. After all, we are all disciples of the Profound Mystery Sect — we see each other every day.”

Ye Fan nodded and said, “That’s true enough. Zhuo Peak and Star Peak are neighboring peaks. If I accidentally flatten you, that would indeed be hard to explain.”

“This fellow is insufferably arrogant — he dares to speak to Senior Brother Yang like that? He’s looking for death!”

“Senior Brother Yang, shatter every bone in his body — don’t hold back at all. Our Star Peak disciples have never been looked down upon like this.”

“Half of the Sect Masters throughout the Profound Mystery Sect’s history came from our lineage. Even if Zhuo Peak is about to rise, it will only possibly equal us in the future. For this brat to be this wildly arrogant right now is truly infuriating and detestable.”

Li Xiaoman stepped forward and spoke to Ye Fan, saying, “You are no match for Senior Brother Yang. Hurry and bow in apology and admit your wrong.”

Ji Ziyue, meanwhile, beamed radiantly, clapping her jade hands together. “Start fighting already — I can barely wait.”

Ye Fan glanced at Li Xiaoman, said nothing, and very calmly took two steps forward.

“Junior Sister Li, you’ve seen how it is. I’m truly sorry — but since he insists on this, I have no choice.” A broad smile spread across Senior Brother Yang’s face.

Ye Fan came to stand before him. “Three palms may be too many,” he said. “I think one is more than enough to completely deal with you.”

Senior Brother Yang did not grow angry. A faint smile remained on his face. “Since you are so confident, I’ll satisfy your wish — one strike to end the fight. I’ll have you convalesce for a few years, and think carefully in bed about how to be a more humble disciple.” He said this with great ease.

“Senior Brother Yang, crush him!” The disciples in the back could contain themselves no longer.

“Good — I’ll let him understand that Star Peak is not to be trifled with!” Senior Brother Yang extended his right palm — flawless as white jade — and called out, “Go and rest in bed for a few years!”

His arm was long, and his palm shot forward in an instant. That hand was completely transparent — one could clearly see the blood vessels and bones within, and even perceive divine power flowing and circulating, interwoven into a curtain of light.

Around the jade palm, powerful gale-force winds surged and shook. All the surrounding grasses and trees were uprooted and torn away, rocks rolled and rumbled with a thunderous sound — it was as though a divine wall of tremendous pressure was being driven forward, seeking to grind Ye Fan to dust.

Ye Fan was utterly composed. He did not appear to have channeled his divine power at all. He simply raised his hand and slapped forward — as though he were shooing away a mosquito.

Behind them, every Star Peak disciple broke into smiles. Such carelessness was no different from seeking death. More than a few were already clapping their hands, feeling that the outcome was beyond any shadow of a doubt.

Only that young man in white furrowed his brows, shouting a warning in a low voice, “Senior Brother Yang, be careful!”

But by then, it was already too late. Ye Fan’s palm instantaneously turned golden-yellow, as though cast from refined gold — extraordinarily strange and divine, not resembling a flesh-and-blood hand in the slightest. It blazed with brilliant, golden radiance that made the eyes swim.

“Bang!”

The golden-yellow palm and that transparent large hand collided. First came a single muffled impact, and then the sounds of cracking bones rang out in an unbroken stream — like beans being stir-fried in a wok, crackling and popping without end.

“Ha ha ha… Shall firefly light contend with the brilliance of the full moon?”

“Who doesn’t know that our Star Peak disciples have the strongest physiques of all? Cultivated to great depths, the body can rival a sacred treasure. And he actually trades palms with Senior Brother Yang — he doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

But they only got that far in their mockery. Their voices cut off abruptly, and everything they had meant to say was swallowed back down — because the outcome left them thunderstruck.

It was not Ye Fan whose body was breaking apart. The crackling sounds were coming from the tall and upright Senior Brother Yang.

In that moment, every person present stared with eyes wide open and mouths agape, witnessing a scene that defied all belief.

Senior Brother Yang’s clothing instantly turned to flying ash. His body became nearly transparent — the expression of having tempered the physical form to a certain level within the Star Peak lineage.

Inside that near-transparent frame, the snow-white bones cracked endlessly. Beginning from the right palm, the cracking spread rapidly upward. The entire right arm became like porcelain struck by a heavy hammer — covered in fracture lines across every surface.

Then the cracks spread up to the neck, then burst toward the chest, then raced downward swiftly — the bones of both legs were covered in a web of fine lines, dense as a spider’s silk, spreading all the way to the tips of his toes before finally stopping.

Then the spinal bones, and the other arm, and the skull — they too, like porcelain that had been struck a devastating blow, fractured completely across their entire surface.

This was a profoundly terrifying sight to behold. Inside that transparent body, everything was clearly visible. As every white bone within it shattered all at once, the sound rang out without pause — and every detail of it was witnessed directly by all those present.

More than a few people were so shocked they froze on the spot, struck by a wave of suffocating breathlessness.

Ye Fan calmly stepped back, then exhaled a breath forward. The surge of air struck Senior Brother Yang, sending him tilting backward, a cry of agony tearing from his throat, “Ahhh—!”

In that moment, every bone throughout his body had completely fractured. As he fell backward, his entire form was already deforming in multiple places — the shattered bones could no longer support the flesh.

This outcome silenced everyone. This was a Divine Bridge realm cultivator — yet someone had shattered every bone in his body with a single palm. Even the mere thought of it made one’s courage run cold.

Behind them, a female cultivator rushed forward quickly, wrapping him in a cocoon of divine light to cradle his body — preventing it from crumpling to the ground. Had she not done so, that physical frame would have been completely destroyed beyond saving.

Even so, she was in a state of extreme anxiety, terrified that the skull might change shape — carefully, painstakingly controlling everything.

“This…”

“How can this be?!”

No one was able to stay calm. The force behind that palm was simply horrifying beyond comprehension — to strike a Divine Bridge realm cultivator was no different from crushing a straw man.

The few cultivators who had been kicked away by Ye Fan earlier felt a chill of belated dread run through them. A figure like this — to kill them would be only marginally less easy than reaching into a bag to take something out.

“A physical body this terrifying — our Star Peak tempers the body with starlight, and our own physiques are extraordinarily strong by nature. How could he have shattered Senior Brother Yang’s entire skeleton? How much power was contained in that single palm? It might well be comparable to a Far Shore realm cultivator.”

Ye Fan stood quietly in place. His face appeared no more than fourteen years of age — his features clean and handsome, even somewhat youthful and unformed, carrying an air of innocence and brightness. With that appearance, this scene felt utterly surreal.

Every Star Peak disciple had cold shivers running up their spines. This was simply a human-shaped wild beast — and moreover, the kind from legend, the sort of extraordinary creature whose divine power struck terror into all who felt it.

Li Xiaoman stood there in a daze, unable to imagine how Ye Fan had wasted Senior Brother Yang with a single palm. That blow had seemed casual — with strength still held in reserve. This left her heart in turmoil, unable to fully accept what she had just witnessed as real.

At this moment, if anyone was the most composed, it was Ji Ziyue without a doubt. She grinned and said, “How boring — is that big fellow made of paper? He broke apart so easily.”

The moment those words left her mouth, more than a few people glared at her with furious eyes.

“Senior Brother Yang’s skills were lacking — no one else is to blame for that. All of you, fall back.” The young man in white who had been standing furthest back, composed and indifferent throughout, now stepped forward.

He was the one who had been most at ease besides Ji Ziyue. He looked toward Ye Fan and said, “You have repeatedly injured disciples of my Star Peak. You do indeed have some ability — they can hardly claim they were wronged.”

“Go rest in bed and recover for a few years, and reflect carefully on how to be a more humble disciple.” Ye Fan said this to Senior Brother Yang, who had just been crying out in agony, and only then turned to face the young man in white.

This person was not very old — roughly twenty or so. He had sharp sword-like brows and starlit eyes, very heroic and striking in bearing. His white robes and white shoes were immaculate, untouched by even a trace of dust or worldly air. And within his eyes, starlight was actually flowing.

“I imagine you came here already possessing your own cultivation arts. May I ask which school of profound technique you practice?” The young man in white asked calmly.

“The great Dao of nature,” Ye Fan answered casually.

Behind them, the Star Peak disciples, seeing the young man in white step forward, had their spirits settle at once. Now they spoke up one after another.

“Zhuo Peak’s great Dao of nature has only just resumed its transmission — it could not possibly be the source of power like that.”

“The force just now was vast as a deep abyss. It is utterly unlike the natural Dao.”

Their hearts were stifled and their resentment was boiling — they had been suppressed again and again today, feeling as though the face of Star Peak had been thoroughly lost.

“Since you are unwilling to say, I will not press further.” The young man in white remained completely unruffled. “Let us test each other’s hand.”

“You are a Far Shore realm cultivator — and you speak as though that is perfectly natural.” Ji Ziyue stepped forward. She pursed her small lips slightly, revealing a sliver of glistening white teeth. “Why don’t you go challenge the powerful cultivators of the Dao Palace’s secret realm instead?”

“He was able to shatter Senior Brother Yang — a Divine Bridge peak realm cultivator — with a single palm. For me to cross hands with him is not bullying.”

“Fine words. He is nothing more than a strong physical body. You are a Far Shore realm cultivator and can deploy all manner of divine arts — how is he supposed to match you in battle?” Ji Ziyue wrinkled her nose and asked.

“When he shattered Senior Brother Yang with that single palm, the outcome was already determined. He no longer has any choice in the matter.” The young man in white showed no emotional fluctuation, though there was a measure of coldness in him. “If you wish to live, kneel before Senior Brother Yang and beg his forgiveness, then shatter your own bones yourself. If you refuse, I will personally act.”

“These two legs of mine have never knelt even to the heavens themselves — can he bear such an honor? Can you all bear it?!” Ye Fan locked eyes with the young man in white.

“Your legs are that tough? Then I’ll break them for you first.” The young man in white was self-possessed and at ease, speaking of this as though it were a trivial and entirely inconsequential matter.

Not far away, Li Xiaoman shifted her steps lightly and said to the young man in white, “Senior Brother Chen Feng, why lower yourself to his level? Discipline him a little and let it go at that — there is no need to make such a big matter of it. Zhuo Peak has already risen. Do not damage the harmony between the two lineages.”

The young man in white, Chen Feng, gave a slight smile. “Oh — and what does Junior Sister Li think the appropriate discipline should be?”

Ye Fan glanced at Li Xiaoman, said nothing, and walked straight forward, turning to face the young man in white. “You really think I’m just a piece of meat on the cutting board — to be kneaded and shaped however you please?!”

“Let me see what waves you can actually stir up.” The young man in white, Chen Feng, his expression still serene, spread his palm open. In an instant, points of starlight shimmered and flowed out — as though several stars had been placed in his hand, fixed there. He looked toward Ye Fan. “This is your final chance. Shatter your own bones, kowtow to beg forgiveness — if you refuse, and I am forced to act personally, whether you live or die, I cannot say.”

“Do you have to be this arrogant and self-righteous, or will you die if you’re not?” Ye Fan’s voice was perfectly calm. “Your legs — I will break them. Your head — I will step on it.”