In the morning light, they stood side by side, gazing at the heavens above — every face wearing a complex expression.
All who were supposed to come had come. Wang Ziwen had been on the Ancient Star of Heavenly Soldiers. Like Liu Yiyi, who had been living in quiet seclusion on Earth, neither had cultivation gifts so overwhelming as to be truly heaven-defying. By now, both had snow-white hair and showed every sign of advanced age, walking into the twilight years of their lives.
Kai De was a special case — not a quasi-emperor, yet having come into contact with faith-power, nourished by it each day. He had aged, but his blood energy was not drastically diminished.
Over the years, Zhou Yi’s strength had grown extraordinary — awe-inspiring throughout the universe, counted as a luminary of his generation. His gaze was resolute, and his aspiration toward the Dao had never once wavered.
He and Lin Jia were disciples of the same master, yet they had made different choices. He wanted to strive upward, determined to become a supreme powerhouse of the universe — to attain the Dao and gaze toward immortality.
Among all those present, Zhang Ziling and Li Xiaoman were in the most particular state — between life and death — having originally been in the depths of the Primordial Abyss.
Ye Fan had brought them out. Only the Heavenly Emperor could have done so in this day and age — only he carried the influence to manage it. Anyone else who barged in there would have been killed on the spot.
Only these two were in a somewhat dazed state, with only a little spiritual consciousness having reawakened. Ye Fan had communicated with them and asked whether they wished to return. At his level of strength, there was nothing he could not accomplish — restoring them to full consciousness was possible, since they had not truly died.
Neither had immediately responded. Their spiritual consciousness showed fluctuations, as if in the midst of violent inner turmoil.
Ye Fan, Lin Jia, Wang Ziwen, Zhou Yi, Li Xiaoman, Kai De, Pang Bo, Zhang Ziling, Liu Yiyi, Zhang Wenchang — ten in all. A peculiar gathering, standing still atop Mount Tai.
The universe was vast, and not every one of them had been living in seclusion on Earth. To bring them all together like this, only the Heavenly Court had such reach, capable of locating every one of them.
They were still the people of those old days — yet so many were missing. Those people could never be seen again. Back then, it was from this very place that they had set sail, stepping into the starry sky, embarking on a life beyond imagining.
But no miracle came a second time. There was nothing to wait for, and nothing that could possibly come.
They had long since steeled themselves for this. This gathering was only a reunion — after nearly six thousand five hundred years, to come together once more. It was truly something extraordinary.
Lin Jia smiled, but tears rolled down as well: “Life itself is a great dream — so why should I cling to it? To cherish and savor each day — may every one of us find happiness within the dream.”
She smiled through her tears, came and embraced each one of them in turn, a final farewell — for everyone knew: after this parting, it would be very difficult for them to see each other again in this life.
“I’ll walk with you through the final stretch of that dream together.” Liu Yiyi said.
Not everyone chose to return to Earth. They would scatter to all parts of the universe, each with different dreams to chase.
“On the road — my dream goes on. I will strive to the very end!” Zhou Yi said, with a conviction more absolute than he had ever shown before.
“At this point in my life, I have no great ambitions left. On the Ancient Star of Heavenly Soldiers, living alongside my children and grandchildren — that is more than enough.” Wang Ziwen said, with a calm and settled peace.
Everyone understood that his choice was a fine one, and that he would surely be happy. Yet having come this far — having reached such depths of strength — was there truly anyone who could really let it all go?
Kai De said: “Hmm, my one wish in this life is to track down God and have a talk with him about the meaning of existence — and ask what in the name of his ancestors possessed him to exile me out into the starry sky. I ate nothing but vegetarian fare on Mount Sumeru for all those years, and I am furious with him. But after I became the God of Light myself, I realized there was not a shred of hope left — the years have cut off what should have been a great and historic meeting between us.”
Ye Fan said nothing. He brought both hands into motion, employing a supreme divine ability — tracing back to the origins, getting to the bottom of Mount Tai once and for all. He was unwilling to let it rest, determined to uncover the truth of the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin.
“No mountain in the world is greater than it; no history in the world is older than it.”
This was Mount Tai — the most accurate assessment the ancients had given it — mysterious without end, regarded in ancient times as the birthplace of all things.
Ye Fan’s hands turned a pale gold, thunder rolling and rumbling, as if countless spirits and gods were nearby, tearing through the void, helping him probe through past and present.
Pang Bo’s expression shifted. He knew Ye Fan was employing every ounce of his power, unleashing a forbidden technique. Ye Fan was the Heavenly Emperor now — it was unknown how many years had passed since he had last gone all-out. This was genuinely astonishing.
Boom!
Heaven and earth seemed to overturn — and then, upon Mount Tai, countless people from ancient times appeared, building an altar to offer sacrifices to heaven, sacred and magnificent.
Grand ritual music rang out, shaking the ears, making one feel on the verge of enlightenment, wanting to prostrate and bow one’s head to the divine.
Ye Fan was using a forbidden technique to pierce through past and present, tracing the origins — seeking a clear and definitive answer.
The sages of history appeared one by one, all standing upon Mount Tai, many ascending into the heavens through a heavenly gate, stepping into the universe.
The Seventy-Two Emperors of the ancient era — naturally these were not true Great Emperors, merely a title — appeared before him one by one.
Boom!
The sound grew even more thunderous. In the end, tracing further back into an extremely ancient era, the path was suddenly blocked by a figure — impossible to see past.
It was a Great Emperor — blurry and indistinct, impossible to see clearly, yet standing there, blocking the way, making it impossible to penetrate further.
Using this kind of secret technique, the thing to fear most was encountering a Great Emperor or an Ancient Emperor — they were too powerful, capable of erasing the various traces of their era, making it impossible to continue tracing, stopped there by them.
Ye Fan frowned. The secret technique from the Vedic scriptures had proven ineffective. His brow began to glow — he unleashed a forbidden secret technique from his own Emperor’s Scripture, heavenly thunder rolling, blazing lightning flashing.
Boom!
In the end, he broke through that figure. The Heavenly Emperor’s divine ability was supreme in the world. The tracing continued, following Mount Tai’s origins back through time — hoping to see everything that had happened in the past.
He traced from the Primordial Era back into the Desolate Ancient era — and was blocked again, this time by several figures in succession, all of which he broke through only with great difficulty.
Throughout this process, he saw the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin return to Mount Tai multiple times and set out again — and each time was an immense challenge, as it too was a barrier blocking his exploration.
Yet on none of those occasions did the bronze coffin take anyone away.
At last, they reached the mythological era. This time, the resistance was far greater. Blood seeped from the corners of Ye Fan’s mouth. Pang Bo and Zhang Wenchang were horrified — they understood that Ye Fan was going against heaven itself, employing a secret technique that ought not to exist in the world, which was harming even him.
No one could voyage without end through the river of time. And yet Ye Fan was pressing against the current, climbing upward — heaven and earth would not permit it. For others to trace back through a span of years was already the limit — but Ye Fan was pushing all the way back to the mythological era.
“Is that the Emperor Venerate?!”
This time, when the silhouette appeared, everyone saw a cauldron above its head — identical to the green bronze cauldron.
Ye Fan coughed up a great mouthful of blood and was struck again — yet he did not stop. That was ultimately only a silhouette in the river of time, not the true person. Though it blocked his forbidden technique and made exploration difficult, it was not the real figure — and in the end he broke through it.
Pressing against the current, the river of time seemed to collapse. Ye Fan traced all the way to the very end of the mythological era — and still could see nothing.
And at this point, a barrier appeared — impossible to cross, unable to go further back against the flow of time.
There is a limit to human power. Even as the Heavenly Emperor, even with his supreme strength, he could not truly pierce through all the ages — but he was undaunted, and continued to press forward.
“Open for me!”
Ye Fan shouted in fury, coughing up blood without stop, his body swaying on the verge of collapse — and then, with a thunderous crack, he actually shattered that barrier, pushing into yet another era beyond it.
The Chaotic Ancient Era!
Then he saw a person: standing atop Mount Tai, the sole sovereign above heaven and earth, his bearing impossible to describe in words.
At that time, Mount Tai was nothing like what it was today. It was far too vast and magnificent — the sun, moon, and stars, placed beside it, seemed small. It hung in the universe, not resting upon any star.
Then he saw that person sever Mount Tai — the grandest and most magnificent portion rising into the highest reaches of the sky, rumbling as it went.
“It’s that!”
Ye Fan’s gaze blazed bright, twin beams of golden light bursting from his eyes. What he saw was — the heavens above. The severed main body was: nine vast dragon veins connected to a coffin-shaped island.
Today’s Mount Tai was what had been abandoned — the remainder left behind.
No mountain in the world is greater than it. No history in the world is older than it.
Then Ye Fan saw that person bury himself within a bronze coffin, the Nine Dragons serving as the force to pull the coffin, ascending into the Coffin-Ascending Island — and at last, the heavens above receded, moving off into the universe.
“He was a person of the Chaotic Ancient Era.”
Ye Fan withdrew the secret technique. Inside his body, great rumblings sounded — the injuries to his body were repairing themselves. Blood no longer seeped from the corners of his mouth.
How many years had it been — and he had actually been hurt. That was no small miracle in itself. If word of this spread to the universe at large, it would certainly trigger a massive upheaval.
“Could it be the true Heavenly Emperor?” Pang Bo furrowed his brow.
The more one came to understand, the more chaotic one’s thoughts became.
Some believed that the Emperor Venerate of the mythological era, when he established the Ancient Heavenly Court, was himself following in the footsteps of those who came before. Some Ancient Emperors believed that in that unknown era, a grand celestial dynasty had once existed — created by the master of the Ancient Pagoda — who was the true Heavenly Emperor.
And the name “Emperor Venerate” had itself borrowed a character from “Heavenly Emperor.”
“Is this a great cycle — the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin beginning at Mount Tai, returning to Mount Tai, and now we set out from here…” Ye Fan murmured to himself.
“Is the Heavenly Emperor cycling through an eternal recurrence?” Zhou Yi suddenly spoke.
“There is no person caught in an eternal recurrence — only the events of the past repeating.” Ye Fan said calmly, then continued: “Tracing everything back to its source — it has all been a search for immortality. Whether in the cultivation world or throughout all the ages, every great upheaval has always begun because of immortality.”
Several days later, Zhang Ziling was saved by Ye Fan — his spiritual consciousness fully restored. He was deeply moved, deeply stirred. He departed with Zhang Wenchang to the Heavenly Court. Li Xiaoman chose to walk back into the Primordial Abyss — and did not look back.
Looking back now — six thousand five hundred years, and the past had scattered like wind.
The gathering at Mount Tai — after which they parted ways. For some, it would be a parting forever.
Affairs of the mortal world were done. Ye Fan strode forward with great steps. In this life, he would no longer be tethered to or affected by anything on Earth.
He did not leave immediately. Together with Pang Bo and Long Ma, he came to the core of the Kunlun Mountains — the place where one ascended to immortality.
Vast arrays spread throughout, seizing the creative workings of heaven and earth. Yet today it could no longer stop Ye Fan, who was the Heavenly Emperor. They arrived here, and saw more than ten thousand Dragon Head Peaks — divine springs gurgling forth, the fragrance of medicine filling the air.
“This place… is practically a miracle!” Pang Bo exclaimed in wonder. He saw many medicine kings — like a garden of medicine kings.
In truth, the medicine kings had diminished greatly in number, no longer as astonishing as before. They had all transformed into essence energy, giving back to the Earth — otherwise this heaven and earth suited for cultivation would not have come to be.
“If one day the Heavenly Court faces a great calamity, this place may become a lifesaving ground.” Ye Fan murmured softly.
He began to seek and examine this place, studying it with careful thoroughness.
Indeed, it was the arrangement of both Emperor Venerate and a Source Emperor. To be precise, that Source Emperor was the Dark Emperor — and moreover, within the array formations, Ye Fan also saw a name: Cao Yusheng.
The Transcending Tribulation Celestial Venerate Cao Yusheng — that name had been carved by the Dark Emperor himself. It was his first life, the very root of his pursuit. He had generated spiritual intelligence anew, reborn from the body of a Celestial Venerate.
The Dark Emperor had known his days were numbered, and carved the name from his past life into this place — the Transcending Tribulation Celestial Venerate and the Dark Emperor shared the same body of flesh, but not the same primordial spirit.
“In this life, he is Duan De!” Long Ma shouted loudly.
“Duan De — he’s been excavating the great secret beneath the earth. Is this instinct? His subconscious driving him to search — seeking to recover everything from his past?” Pang Bo said.