Not only Ye Fan — even Long Ma and the others looked as though they had seen a ghost. None of them had expected to see this person from the painting standing here, truly manifested in the living world.
Upon the crumbling Dao platform, the old Daoist was perfectly calm — his skin had a healthy luster; he was not haggard and decrepit. Was this truly the person who had fought the Undying Celestial Empress to a standstill? Many cultivators looked at him with wonder.
“What era does he come from? How has he appeared here, and become the master of the Heavenly Court?” Long Ma and the others were more startled the more they thought about it.
The Yin-Yang fish turned slowly on the ancient, damaged platform. The old Daoist did not stir. Behind him, Zhou Yi and Lin Jia had clearly both seen Ye Fan and Pang Bo — their gazes brightened, and they gave a slight nod in greeting.
So many years had passed, yet neither had changed much. The passage of time in cultivation is swift, and a few hundred years is not so long for those who have grown powerful.
Evidently, both had attained extraordinary strength. Each had refined the Dao’s foundation into their bones, their entire bodies emanating a halo of light — especially radiant within the chaotic energy — as matched a pair of people in perfect harmony.
Ye Fan nodded to them, then fixed his gaze upon the old Daoist. He examined him carefully from every angle and confirmed without doubt that this was indeed the person from the paintings — the one he had never imagined could step out of stone into the living world.
In that year, after his blood-battle with the Tyrant King, he had gone with Pang Bo, Long Ma, and the twelve holy figures to train on the Golden Ancient Road. On a star of no great size, they had encountered an old man chopping wood.
At first they had assumed he was truly a person who existed in the flesh. Only later did they realize he was someone carved in stone — chopping wood ceaselessly, without fatigue, possessing a mysterious Dao rhythm that had drawn every single one of them in at the time.
Afterward they had come upon nine more stone carvings — all left by this old man. The carvings depicted not only the divine spirit’s ancient coffin, but also involved things like the Immortal Blade of the Undying — seemingly he had penetrated the secrets of the Celestial Emperor’s lineage. Some of those carvings, once completed, had been erased by his own hand.
Now, though the old man was dressed as a Daoist, it was undeniably him. To think he had stepped out from the stone carvings. He lived in the real world.
They had once speculated that those stone carvings must have been made a very long time ago, and the old man most likely did not belong to the present era. Now that he had appeared in this age, it naturally astonished them.
The wood-chopping old man had come from ancient times into this era, wearing different clothes — now a Daoist robe. Perhaps this was his true identity, and the wood-chopping of former days had simply been a form of contemplating the Dao, tempering himself in the ordinary world of mortals.
The old Daoist looked out at the gathered crowd and sighed, “This age has had too much killing. Too many people have died. I wish to pacify this disorder and bring this endless chaos to an end.”
“Do you think if you say you can pacify it, you simply can? Are you truly setting yourself up as the ruler of all the world?” A cold voice rang out from somewhere in the shadows.
Whoosh!
A snow-bright blade light shot to the heavens — rising from behind the old Daoist. He carried a woodcutter’s chopper upon his back, and its light illuminated heaven and earth so brilliantly that no one could keep their eyes open.
“If pacifying the bloodshed and chaos requires action, I will not flinch. If it can bring a lifetime of peace, I am willing to be a conqueror who targets only a small number of people,” the old Daoist sighed.
His voice was not loud, but it carried a powerful force of restraint — and one could also feel his resolve and sincerity. He did not seem to be fighting for himself but only to reduce the bloodshed and chaos.
The cold blade light broke through the nine heavens, surging through the Heavenly Court. People were astonished to discover that the palace had not been shattered — that blinding white blade light had passed through the palace halls and radiated out into the open sky, leaving everyone dumbstruck.
Clang! — the phantom figure that had appeared earlier — the weapon spirit — flew into the blade light, and then all of it vanished together, like a waterfall flowing into the woodcutter’s chopper.
This was an intangible form of suppression. Who would dare claim they could win? In this entire era, probably not a single person!
Not far away, a Quasi-Emperor coughed up blood and staggered back. The blade had not been aimed at him — it had not even been drawn from its sheath — only the blade energy had shot upward. Yet even someone supremely powerful who was not in the path of the blade light had been forced into this state. It was soul-shaking.
Clearly, the old Daoist had not struck to kill — only enough to make him cough up blood and appear, while still leaving him his life.
Such methods. Such divine might. Every heart present was quaking. Who could contend with this?
It was a strange scene: an old Daoist sitting cross-legged on a crumbling Yin-Yang Dao platform, carrying a woodcutter’s chopper on his back — by any measure a strange sight — and yet he had silenced every single person present. Not even a breath too loud dared to be taken.
The same was true for the ancient emperors’ children. Each privately admitted they were nowhere close — that level of cultivation was truly too deep and profound. A Quasi-Emperor at the absolute pinnacle, reaching the outermost edge of the Emperor’s laws.
At this level, all things can serve as weapons. A single strand of hair can snap a river of stars. Raising a hand to open a new world, or rend the universe apart — none of that presents any difficulty.
Ye Fan and Pang Bo looked at each other in bewilderment. The appearance of this old man had been entirely beyond expectation. Today, with the Heavenly Court ruins emerging, the winds and clouds had truly turned over completely.
“May I ask, senior, your name?” someone spoke up.
“Forgotten it,” the old Daoist said, lifting his gaze to look at the distant sky, giving a slight shake of his head. Then he said, “You may call me the Wood-Chopping Old Man.”
Everyone was suspicious. A man so powerful had to have had a past that shook heaven and earth — this was plainly a refusal to say.
Just then, the big-bearded man walked over, his manner bold and unrestrained — yet he quietly winked at Li Tian and Yan Yixi, sending both men’s hair standing on end, a layer of goosebumps rising across their skin.
“My master is not of this era — he comes from remote antiquity and, for certain reasons, was sealed within stone, living on to the present day,” the big-bearded man revealed this stunning piece of news.
Then he indicated that everyone should simply call the old Daoist the Wood-Chopping Old Man.
A Quasi-Emperor’s master? The big-bearded man was clearly a Quasi-Emperor himself — then how terrifyingly powerful must his master be? Everyone felt their hair stand on end. Surely not a Great Emperor?
This nondescript old man — had he already attained the Great Dao? The thought struck like a thunderbolt shattering the sky.
“Ah — I may as well be honest: I am only a nominal disciple. My master and I are not of the same era,” the big-bearded man muttered.
Everyone felt a wave of relief. Two Great Emperors would have been far too terrifying. As it stood, this big-bearded man was not truly the old Daoist’s disciple — only so in name — which was understandable enough.
Behind the Dao platform’s Yin-Yang fish design, Zhou Yi and Lin Jia’s gazes glowed with brilliance, passing again and again over Ye Fan and Pang Bo. A few people noticed and could not understand what it meant.
“Grandfather, the immortal tree just trembled. Is it going to come back to life?”
Outside the Heavenly Court, the round-faced, fierce-looking child spoke up. The old man with his mouthful of yellowed teeth was earnestly tending to the tree with his bucket — this was already his eight-hundredth bucket, and every drop of the golden lightning-element liquid had been absorbed.
Everyone was astounded!
Could this tree truly come back to life? The Wood-Chopping Old Man and his people seemed to have only recently taken up residence in the Heavenly Court — otherwise, why were they only starting to water it now?
People were greatly shaken. Aside from the Sacred Emperor’s scripture, the most precious thing in the Heavenly Court was undoubtedly this immortal medicine tree — the desire it stirred in every heart was immense.
Boom! — the sky shuddered. Far away, a terrifying bank of clouds appeared, like a massive flame blazing in the heavens, blanketing the sky.
“The Phoenix Nest!”
Many people’s expressions changed dramatically as they recognized what it was.
Was the Phoenix Nest built from phoenix-blood trees, or was it a genuine supreme Dao weapon in truth? How could it exude such a staggering oppressive force — enough to unsettle the heart and spirit?
Everyone knew: the Undying Celestial Empress had arrived. There was an uproar throughout the crowd. They had heard about her for a long time, but it was only today that they saw the Phoenix Nest for the first time — naturally drawing tens of thousands of gazes.
“Fellow Daoist, you are still in fine health,” a clear voice rang out, like the low hum of a young girl’s voice, possessing a strange and captivating quality.
Everyone was petrified. Was this the Undying Celestial Empress? By all reasoning it should be her — who else would carry themselves like this? But her voice was far too youthful. According to people’s expectations, she should have been a decrepit old woman, sunken into the exhaustion of old age. Yet this voice was so young.
Of course, no one had seen her true appearance, and so could not know whether she was truly as young as she sounded. All they could see was the immense Phoenix Nest pressing down from above, apparently intending to preside over this Heavenly Court.
“Given that the Celestial Empress still lives in this world, how could I dare to die before her?” the old Daoist said calmly. The tone was actually quite firm — not what one would call polite.
“Are you expecting me to die? I can still live for several thousand more years — I fear you will be disappointed. In addition, this section of the Heavenly Court is mine to reclaim. Please leave.” The clear, pleasing voice came from within the Phoenix Nest, like the song of an oriole.
“Why call it ‘still’? When did it become the Celestial Empress’s territory?” the old Daoist said.
“In those days, I and the Celestial Emperor resided here often. Naturally it is my home, and returning to it now is entirely proper. Is there anything wrong with that?” The Undying Celestial Empress’s voice grew a little cooler.
“If a descendant of the Sacred Emperor were to say such a thing, perhaps it could be argued. Celestial Empress, you are twisting logic. This place now belongs to all the world — not to me, and not to you.” The Wood-Chopping Old Man spoke.
“He he he…” Like a cascade of silver bells colliding, clear and resonant — the Undying Celestial Empress’s laughter carried a demonic quality that made everyone in this place want to submit and kneel down before her.
Clang! — the woodcutter’s chopper on the old Daoist’s back drew itself from its sheath on its own. One note of the blade shattered the laughter, and in an instant the whole universe fell silent.
“Must we fight another battle?” the old man spoke — his tone measured and unhurried, yet absolutely resolute. He was prepared to meet her with the blade’s edge.
Hmmm!
From within the Phoenix Nest, a sheet of flame rose — like layered whorls of crimson blood, blazing with a gorgeous brilliance. It was as though a celestial phoenix was on the verge of nirvana and rebirth from within.
“Does the Celestial Empress intend to walk the Celestial Emperor’s path — to gather the blood of the emperors and bathe in it, and thereby achieve the phoenix’s nirvana?” One sentence from the Wood-Chopping Old Man shook all the world.
At the same moment, even the Phoenix Nest shuddered. The crimson immortal mist all withdrew.
“What? What did the Undying Celestial Emperor do? Why does he say such things?” Many people were stunned.
Ye Fan and Pang Bo looked at each other — both shivered at the same time. They thought of the nine stone carvings, left by the Wood-Chopping Old Man, which had touched upon the divine spirit’s ancient coffin, involved the Celestial Emperor’s lineage, and even in some cases involved affairs that defied the heavens — then been erased by the old man’s own hand.
Clearly, the Wood-Chopping Old Man had in former years penetrated many stunning secrets — matters involving the ten thousand heavens across the ages — and this moment he had simply tossed out one of them.
The Undying Celestial Empress was greatly shaken. Even she had not anticipated that the other party knew this much.
In that instant, Ye Fan shivered — the Undying Celestial Emperor bathing in the blood of emperors to achieve nirvana — what a staggering thing that would have been!
“No wonder… during the Age of Darkness and Chaos, someone said he was the greatest schemer of all. Evidently this emperor had other terrifying methods at his disposal as well!” Ye Fan thought of many things.
Later generations of Great Emperors and ancient emperors had known of the Undying Celestial Emperor’s fearsome nature and been deeply on guard against him. Now at last there was this hidden truth.
Bathing in the blood of emperors to be born again — this was a terrifying legend!
It operated on the same principle as the phoenix’s nirvana and rebirth through fire — but was far more incomprehensibly horrifying. The blood of an Emperor’s Path — was it something that could simply be made to flow? What kind of battles would have accompanied something like that?
People simply imagined it and felt their scalps go numb. At that level, there are no ordinary people, no common mortals. The things they did — some of them were beyond what any person could condone.