“Is it truly Wushi the Great Emperor?” Even Ye Fan was struck with awe and disbelief — could this powerful man still be alive? That would be far too extraordinary to comprehend.

Eight thousand years had passed — a vast and immeasurable stretch of time. Under normal circumstances, even a true Great Emperor could not endure for so long, let alone one who, at that distant point in time, had already entered his final twilight years, his vitality withered and spent. How could anyone survive such a decline?

“Great Emperor, I have waited for you for so many years. Have you finally returned?” The Black Emperor wept with a grief that shook the very heavens, utterly unlike his usual self — every word soaked in feeling, every sob filled with sorrow beyond measure.

“Little Black.” After a single, quiet sigh, that towering figure wreathed in swirling primordial chaos turned around, his gaze falling upon the Black Emperor. Only those two words passed his lips.

It was not a particularly dignified nickname, yet Ye Fan, the Sacred Son of the Void, and Ji Zi did not so much as smile. Their bodies trembled where they stood, eyes wide as they stared up at the high platform in stunned silence.

Could this man truly possess conscious awareness? He was actually able to perceive everything around him — even capable of speaking with the Black Emperor!

“Great Emperor, take me with you — whether it is to slay Immortals or storm the Immortal Domain, bring me along. Little Black may be of little use, but I can keep you company and lift your spirits.” The Black Emperor was shaken to his core; the Great Sage wailed and howled, every last trace of his usual arrogance gone, replaced only by something frantic and desperate — terrified that this was nothing more than a dream.

That figure, half-consumed by swirling chaos, had thick black hair. Judging purely by his bearing, there was not a single sign of age about him — yet his true face remained hidden from sight. Cradling that luminous skull in his hands, he walked one step at a time toward the depths of the high platform.

“Great Emperor, wait for me!” The Black Emperor cried out, lunging forward — only to be firmly restrained by Ye Fan and the Sacred Son of the Void. That place was densely woven with the markings of the Grand Dao. To force one’s way through was absolutely forbidden, not even the Black Emperor was exempt from that.

They watched from afar, and at last witnessed that upright, towering silhouette carrying the skull deep into the far end of the ritual platform — where he suddenly dissolved into a shower of radiant light, dazzling and magnificent beyond all description.

Then, slowly, the cascade of light scattered away.

What remained was only a single skull, drifting quietly before settling gently to the ground with a soft, clear chime. Beside it, a translucent pendant flickered with a faint glow.

“Great Emperor!” The Black Emperor lost all composure, crying out in anguish. He could not accept what lay before him.

Everything seemed to have become clear — yet that very clarity made it all the harder to bear.

The truth was brutal, too real to face head-on. Of all of them, the Black Emperor was the least able to accept it. His mournful roar shook the heavens.

There was no escaping it — even a Great Emperor had his twilight years, his vital energy inevitably fading. No matter how powerful a man might be, the day would come when the flame of his life was extinguished. Wushi may have stood peerless across the ages, but even he could not escape that fate.

A Great Emperor who had turned his back on all living beings, carrying within him so many untold stories and mysteries…

And perhaps it was precisely because of this that the grief surrounding this powerful man felt all the deeper. No matter how earth-shaking one’s legend, the twilight would still come in the end — and in his final moments, he had chosen to depart alone, in solitude, with no one by his side.

“In this age of ages — rare even across the span of ten thousand generations — if one could not witness the Great Emperor Wushi facing the ancient supreme beings of the seven great life-restricted zones, that would truly be a sorrow beyond words.” Ye Fan murmured softly, and in that quiet lament, there was also a kind of comfort offered to the Black Emperor.

“He will appear — the Great Emperor will appear! I believe he is still alive, somewhere in the Immortal Domain. Just now, it was him reaching across time and space to speak with me!” The great black dog clung to those words as though they were a lifeline, bellowing them with everything he had.

A faint hum rang out from somewhere in the distance — something trembling slightly, releasing a warm and serene radiance. Without question, it was the aura of a Great Emperor, unfurling in strand after glowing strand.

“What is that?” the Sacred Son of the Void asked, startled.

“It is the Emperor’s Scripture!” Ye Fan had been here more than once before and naturally knew what lay within that particular region.

“Let us go.” They gathered up the Black Emperor, still weeping and wailing, and moved forward together, leaving behind this sacred ground that inspired both reverence and sorrow.

Before them lay an enormous scripture carved in stone, and behind it spread a lush tangle of vines and creeping plants — all of it grown from within the ore-veins of the Purple Mountain, radiating a power at once alluring and unsettling.

The thick stone tome was emanating a gentle light, as though shaking free the dust of countless ages. Etched upon its surface were three great characters: The Wushi Scripture!

The stone scripture stretched more than ten meters in length and was a full meter or two in thickness — a scripture unlike anything the world had ever seen, utterly singular in its existence.

Even the Black Emperor stood frozen in place. He had not brought the Emperor’s jade with him, nor was there any blood from a Flawless Sacred Physique and Dao Embryo to anoint it — yet why was this scripture already emanating such a peaceful radiance, its glow drawing all who beheld it closer?

“Crack!”

A trembling sound rang out, like the creaking of ancient sealed gates being pushed open for the first time. The enormous scripture shuddered and vibrated, humming with resonance, as strand after strand of the Emperor’s aura parted to either side.

On its own, the scripture had begun to open — moving slowly, deliberately, as ten thousand rays of auspicious light bloomed forth. Amid the brilliance, a hazy and dreamlike mist stirred, and the true scripture within was finally laid bare for all to see.

“This is…” Everyone was struck speechless. Why had this happened? Was it not said that specific conditions had to be met before it could be opened? Yet now it had turned its own pages of its own accord — utterly baffling.

Even the Black Emperor stared with his mouth wide open. No one understood this place better than he did, for he had lived here for many, many years — and yet now, he too was lost.

Everything that had transpired today was far too strange. First the Divine Ranking Stele had stirred, then the Emperor’s Bell had tolled, and now the scripture had opened as well — its auspicious light flooding the heavens.

Page after page of scripture turned — not with a rustling flutter, but with a trembling resonance that caused the Grand Dao itself to cry out in lament. A vast and majestic chanting arose, echoing outward in all directions.

Louder even than three thousand great Buddhas and eighty thousand divine demons reciting scripture together — it shattered mountains and rivers, as though this one scripture, upon its completion, had rendered all other scriptures in the world obsolete. Character after character of sacred text flew outward in streams of light.

The Wushi Emperor’s Scripture was being recited aloud, its reverberations deafening, leaving mouths dry and minds reeling in sheer disbelief at everything unfolding before them.

And just like that, they had gained access to the Wushi Scripture. How many individuals across all of history had dreamed of this very moment, yet not a single one had ever succeeded? And now, in this very moment, it had become real — laid out before them, waiting for the few gathered here to study and comprehend its teachings.

Ye Fan, Ji Zi, and the others stepped forward together to examine this immense stone tome. Within its pages, etched one after another, were complex and unfathomable Dao markings of staggering intricacy.

This was not a scripture written in words — it was woven from Dao patterns, each one demanding that the reader understand and perceive on their own. That made it both supremely difficult and immensely layered, and the depth of what each person could gain would inevitably differ depending on their individual insight and comprehension.

“This is not the first page,” the Sacred Son of the Void observed. He reached out to turn the page of the scripture — but it did not move by even a hair’s breadth. The stone page was heavy beyond the weight of countless tens of thousands of units of measure, utterly beyond the reach of any mortal force to shift.

What had been revealed was a fragment — disconnected from what came before and after, a single passage standing alone. And the subject of that passage was none other than the Grand Dao of Time. The sheer impact was staggering, and even this single page alone was enough to seize the hearts of all who looked upon it.

It touched upon the realm of time — that alone was enough to drive the entire world into a frenzy!

What a pity, though. To have it open to such a page — and yet so incomplete. Only this one passage could be seen; nothing before it, nothing after. Without the full context, true understanding was impossible, and any attempt to force comprehension or perception would almost certainly lead to grave error.

“What is going on? It opened on its own — but why to this page of all pages?” The Black Emperor shook his head forcefully, struggling to accept the reality before him. He stretched out his great paw to turn the page — and found it just as immovable as before.

Ji Zi stepped forward and brought to bear the laws of the Great Emperor of the Void, attempting to lift the page. The result was the same — not even the slightest change.

It was worth remembering that they had already reached the Great Sage realm, and as Emperor’s Children, their power was extraordinary by any measure. Yet they could not so much as turn a single page of scripture. If word of this got out, no one would believe it.

“Something is not right,” the Sacred Son of the Void remarked. “The Wushi Scripture has opened — and there is surely a reason for that. It cannot simply be this one inexplicable page with no further purpose.”

Of everyone present, only Ye Fan had yet to make his attempt. As the others looked toward him, he stepped forward and reached out to turn the page. With a thunderous boom, the moment he made contact, the scripture erupted as though suddenly set ablaze — blazing with luminous radiance. The Emperor’s aura surged upward and split to either side. Mercifully, it did not sweep toward the others — had it done so, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

The humming sound rang out once more, the scripture turning again on its own, settling on a new passage — and there it locked into place, its light contained inward, the scripture rumbling like divine drums shaking the heavens.

Everyone’s expression shifted. Ye Fan had actually managed to turn it!

“Try again — see if you can get to the first page!” The anticipation in the group was palpable. This was the most mysterious of all ancient scriptures, and today it seemed it was finally about to reveal itself to the world. The excitement was almost too much to contain.

Hearing this, Ye Fan reached out once more to turn the page — but this time, there was no effect whatsoever. The scripture stood immovable and unyielding, its light flowing gently as it held in place.

“Stop trying to force it. This is all we are going to get.” The Black Emperor said.

“This is… a forbidden secret technique!” Ji Zi exclaimed, visibly shaken.

The group drew close to study the markings, immersing themselves in the Grand Dao, their hearts and minds drawn completely inward. Ye Fan suddenly raised his head and looked toward the Black Emperor — this technique felt achingly familiar to him.

Because before his battle to the death with Yuangu, the great black dog had once taught it to him. That technique bore the name “Wushi” — and it was perhaps the most terrifying thing he had ever encountered, capable of reverting all things back to their original point of origin.

“You are truly blessed by fortune — to find such scripture is extraordinary. Comprehend what you can, take from it whatever you are able.” The Black Emperor said, his tone carrying the weight of old memory. In years past, he had watched Wushi the Great Emperor wield this technique, yet his own attempt at comprehension had led him astray. What he had taught Ye Fan could not be considered the true, orthodox form.

This was a stroke of fortune so immense it defied imagination. The three of them naturally stilled their minds and concentrated with everything they had, wresting as much understanding as they possibly could from the text before them. Even the Black Emperor began working through it again from the beginning, reexamining this scripture with fresh eyes.

It was impossible to say how much time had passed when all of them finally opened their eyes. Every face wore a faint expression of surprise. The difficulty was real — it was genuinely possible to veer into error, and each of them could sense that what they had grasped was not the true and orthodox form.

“Now you understand why,” the Black Emperor said. “This is a technique created for the Flawless Sacred Physique and Dao Embryo. To cultivate it requires conditions that few can meet — specific prerequisites that must all be satisfied.”

First among them was the need to cultivate the scripture’s foundational path-building methods — and unfortunately, none of those gathered here could open the relevant chapters.

Moreover, even if those pages could be opened, the cultivation of the early sections would be enormously difficult, for this scripture had been written specifically for the Flawless Sacred Physique and Dao Embryo.

Relatively speaking, Ye Fan had made some genuine progress — he had grasped the core essence of the technique. The reason was that he bore the two words “Sacred Physique,” which gave him just enough compatibility to manage it, however tenuously.

“Even without the Wushi Scripture’s foundational path-building chapters, cultivation is not impossible,” the Black Emperor added. “This forbidden secret technique requires reaching the Quasi-Emperor realm — and not merely reaching it, but walking far enough and deep enough within that level of attainment. With sufficient progress there, it can eventually be trained to completion.”

That was also the core reason the Black Emperor had never devoted himself to studying this scripture in earnest back then, choosing instead to follow the path of the demon race’s lineage. As a result, even the one being that had ever truly walked alongside Wushi the Great Emperor could not fully recite this scripture from memory.

“Memorize this secret technique — engrave it into your mind. In the future, it will prove indispensable!”

Once engraved into the mind, it would be impossible to erase — and at that very same moment, the Wushi Scripture thundered shut with a resounding boom, the Emperor’s aura folding inward. It could not be opened again.

“Clang—” The Wushi Bell rang out, its toll shaking the soul, though no one could say why it had sounded once more.

At the same time, strands of Dao markings began to interweave and spread toward them — yet not a single thread carried any intent to harm. In that instant, each of them felt as though their minds had been washed clear by pure water, as though they had suddenly seen through to the very origin of this place.

The obstacles that had arisen during their earlier comprehension were shattered by the bell waves — forcibly breaking apart those internal barriers, allowing them to glimpse the light that lay beyond. The effect was most pronounced for Ye Fan: in almost the same instant, he was pulled back from the path of error and returned to the correct way of understanding.

Why had this happened? They were unsettled and uncertain.

“This is the Great Emperor’s gift,” the Black Emperor speculated. “Once you enter the Quasi-Emperor realm, even without having cultivated the path-building chapters, you will be able to bring this technique to full completion.” He believed it was connected to the skull Ye Fan had returned — that when the Divine Ranking Stele had stirred and the Emperor’s Bell had tolled today, everything had been perceived, and something deep within had been moved.

“You are all wrong!”

Suddenly, a mysterious voice rang out within the Purple Mountain — just those three words, yet their reverberation shook every one of them to the core of their being, leaving them unable to believe what they were hearing.

Most of all, it shook Ye Fan — because this was not the first time he had heard those three words. Long ago, in the Ancient Forbidden Land, a slender figure standing above a great chasm had let out a sigh and spoken something very much like this.

After all these years, in this very place, he had heard those words again. Was this a negation of all the ages that had come before?!

In that moment, it was not only the Black Emperor — even Ye Fan, Ji Zi, and the Sacred Son of the Void began to wonder: was there truly a living Great Emperor still within this Purple Mountain? How else could one explain this voice, and all the inexplicable things that had taken place here today?