Ye Fan had no desire to entangle himself with the Azure Mist Sect. He brought Wang Shu and Er Lengzi and moved off to stand apart from them, in a spot some distance away.

Along the lakeside, trees provided deep shade, pavilions dotted the landscape, and the scenery held a poetic, picturesque quality. Without the clamor of loud conversation, people who came here fell into a mood of quiet—speaking in low voices.

All manner of people of standing from around Pingyan City had come—the Rongxiang Gambling Parlor and certain sects had each sent capable figures.

Ye Fan scanned the crowd, and his eyes landed on someone who surprised him: the great loudmouth—Tu Fei.

Nothing good will come of him being here. Ye Fan couldn’t help but frown. This fellow was like a megaphone—nothing was beyond his willingness to say.

Tu Fei stood with a group of young men, every one of whom had an air that was either fiercely imposing or thoroughly roguish—all of them at odds with the refined elegance of the setting, and every single one looking like a marauder.

Those must be the young ruffians the old men mentioned. Ye Fan shifted his steps and moved away from that area. He had no intention of being spotted by that loudmouth—if Tu Fei noticed him, all manner of trouble was sure to follow. With those characters around, something was bound to go wrong. Tu Fei above all was absolutely not someone who could be relied on to stay calm.

“The Saintess of Yaochi has come to Pingyan City—I wonder what her purpose is. Can it truly be as simple as a tour?”

“Hard to say. Yaochi has always kept a low profile—outsiders rarely learn anything about their affairs.”

People speculated freely, eyes fixed without blinking on the pavilion by the lake.

The Saintess of Yaochi was enveloped in mist and rosy light, her true face impossible to discern—and it was precisely this that made everyone yearn all the more to see it for themselves.

Her form was like jade and silk, her figure proportioned as though by divine design, beautiful from any angle. Yet what was most captivating was that very haziness—because you couldn’t see her clearly, you were drawn in even more. Her voice was calm, and when she spoke it was like sounds from paradise—like a warm breeze entering the heart, stirring its very strings, carrying a peculiar and irresistible pull.

Only when she had finished speaking did many people seem to wake from a dream, realizing she had already said something. Yaochi wished to display several pieces of stone for the crowd to assess. If anyone showed rare discernment, Yaochi would offer a generous reward.

This woman is formidable. Ye Fan was inwardly amazed. Her words spread outward like ripples, carrying Dao power, drawing goodwill from people without their even realizing it. And the sound of her voice itself—it gradually faded from memory, was overlooked, forgotten—what remained was only the impression of something incomparably beautiful.

“An extraordinary sensation—is that the immortal grace those old men spoke of?” Ye Fan murmured to himself.

The Saintess of Yaochi gave off a deeply unusual impression. Whether her figure, her voice, or everything else—it was all hazy, almost unreal, as though she existed far away in the celestial halls of the sky.

Yes. The single word that summed it up was haze.

At her gesture, several young women in white garments came gliding like butterflies skimming water, stepping across the sapphire-like lake to retrieve nine pieces of source stone. They laid them out in a row along the bank.

Nine pieces—the largest weighed perhaps two thousand pounds, the smallest was no bigger than a palm. They looked unremarkable, with nothing obviously unusual about them.

“You are all welcome to step forward and examine these source stones. Tell us what is special about them.” The Yaochi Saintess was truly beyond this world—nearly ethereal, her voice like celestial music.

“Just listening to that voice is enough to get lost in it. If I could bring her home as my wife, I’d have no regrets for the rest of my life.” The loudmouth Tu Fei muttered to himself—and those nearby all heard it.

Not far away, the several old men Ye Fan had noticed earlier chuckled softly, trading quiet remarks.

“These young ruffians truly have come to cause a scene.”

“They wouldn’t dare. They’re only here to watch. Yaochi’s Grand Elder is present.”

“The Saintess of this generation has transcendent gifts—she has no peer among her contemporaries. Even without protection, she would be more than capable of moving freely through the Northern Reaches.”

Many people pressed forward, gathering to examine the source stones, all eager for a closer look.

Ye Fan remained where he was. He feared that people from the Ji Family or Yao Guang Sacred Ground might be among the crowd—if they recognized him, there would be no end of trouble.

“It’s like something is calling to me.” Er Lengzi looked rather dazed.

“I have a strange feeling too—my body feels off, my blood is moving faster, as though something ahead is pulling at me with a particular force.” Wang Shu’s expression was equally bewildered.

Ye Fan was startled inwardly. “You’re both feeling something unusual?”

“Yes. Like I know it, and at the same time like I’ve never encountered it before. Very strange.” Wang Shu tried to describe it carefully.

“It’s connected to those nine stones up ahead.” Er Lengzi stared ahead toward the source stones by the lakeside, eyes wide as an ox’s.

“Don’t say anything about it.” Ye Fan’s mind stirred. He vaguely recalled Elder Zhang mentioning, in passing, that the bloodlines of Wang Shu and Er Lengzi’s ancestors were out of the ordinary. This was likely a manifestation of innate spiritual perception.

Within the stone village, there were three surnames. One was Zhang—descendants of the Source Heaven Master. The other two were Wang and Lei. According to tradition, the ancestors of both the Wang and Lei lineages were young children the Source Heaven Master had taken in during his twilight years. Their bloodlines were unusual, but Elder Zhang had never elaborated on the specifics.

Ye Fan had studied the Source Heaven Scripture and felt no such particular resonance—yet these two were restless where they stood, unable to feel at ease. He found it deeply surprising.

I need to find a way to get up there and take a proper look. Though I haven’t fully mastered the Heaven-Altering Earth-Shifting Art from the Source Heaven Scripture, I’ve at least grasped some of its rudiments.

Ye Fan stepped back, then activated the art. Bones throughout his body shifted and cracked, and in the end his shoulders broadened slightly, the cheekbones and other features of his face became more prominent. His appearance shifted from delicate to chiseled—his face now resembled something carved by a blade, carrying a sharp, imposing quality that was entirely unlike his former self.

“It won’t hold for long—but it should be enough to fool people for the moment.”

Beside him, Er Lengzi and Wang Shu stared with gaping mouths. They moved to say something, but Ye Fan stopped them. “When you go up there shortly, no matter what you feel or sense, don’t make a sound. We’ll talk when we get back.”

Both nodded and slipped separately into the crowd.

Tu Fei, the great loudmouth, also stepped up close, circling the nine source stones and observing them at length before speaking. “Celestial maiden of Yaochi—if I can give a meaningful answer, what reward will you offer?”

“You would be invited to reside in Yaochi for a time, and certain wishes of yours would be granted,” a female disciple of the Yaochi Sacred Ground replied.

“My grandfather always talked about Yaochi, saying it was a wonderful place—but I wouldn’t dare go. I’d be afraid that once I arrived, I’d become a prisoner and never get out again.”

“Are you here to cause trouble, young ruffian?” A middle-aged woman’s voice floated out from within the pavilion.

“I’m not causing trouble—I’m just taking a look.” Tu Fei stepped back several paces. “My grandfather asked me to pay his respects to you.”

“Then behave yourself.” After those words came from within, silence fell.

Ye Fan’s heart stirred. An invitation to reside in Yaochi—that was a tremendous opportunity. He had just been fretting over how to obtain the mental cultivation method of the Dao Palace Secret Realm. Yet the timing wasn’t ideal. He hadn’t fully mastered the Heaven-Altering Earth-Shifting Art, which made moving about very inconvenient.

The nine source stones were dull in color. Though they had been lifted from the lake, they still carried a faint earthiness about them, as though they had been recently quarried.

Ye Fan ran his hand over them. There was a distinct, unusual resonance—these source stones truly seemed to carry some kind of extraordinary power, leaving his heart unsettled.

Then his mind sparked—this was the aura of the Primordial Ancient Mine. In the ninth courtyard of the Rongxiang Gambling Parlor, he had once encountered stones of this kind. But the aura emanating from these nine pieces was vastly more concentrated—not remotely in the same league.

“I can sense it—these stones were transported from that forbidden zone of life.” Tu Fei spoke up, his loudmouth tendencies in full form. “Is that the case?”

The Saintess of Yaochi had retreated back into the pavilion. A nearby female disciple nodded. “Do you have any other particular impressions?”

“Not really.” Tu Fei moved forward several steps, and then his habitual fault reasserted itself. “Is it true that Yaochi disciples are forbidden to marry? I’ve heard that in the distant past, one or two Saintesses actually became someone’s wife.”

Behind him, the crowd erupted in murmurs. This was a taboo subject that almost no one dared raise ordinarily—yet here was this person asking about it with complete abandon.

Yaochi’s female disciples did not grow angry. One of them smiled and shook her head gently, saying nothing.

“Tu Fei, stop playing the fool here. You’re the descendant of one of the Thirteen Great Outlaws—you dare show your face in this place? Be careful you don’t leave Pingyan City alive.” Someone laughed coldly.

“Who’s saying that?” Tu Fei looked around, scanning the crowd.

“You speak vile words—do not defile the celestial maidens of Yaochi with your presence.” The voice came again, shifting left and right—clearly a highly skilled young fighter, impossible to pin down.

“Self-righteous hypocrite. I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking—what’s wrong with that? Even the Sacred Master of the Jiang Family has said as much.” Tu Fei was completely unbothered.

“Nonsense. The Sacred Master of the Jiang Family would never say something like that.” A voice came from the shadows in rebuke.

This was a different voice—not the one from before. Many suspected it was likely a young talent from the Jiang Family.

“I must have misremembered—it was the Sacred Master of Yao Guang who said it.” Tu Fei slapped his forehead. “The Sacred Master of Yao Guang said: a man who doesn’t want to court a Saintess isn’t a real man.”

At that, the entire crowd erupted. Tu Fei’s audacity was truly beyond compare—how could he say something like that in public… a great many people laughed until they doubled over. This fellow was absolutely outrageous.

The Yao Guang Sacred Ground had sent more than one person. Upon hearing this, they all went incandescent with fury. This scoundrel was far too vile—slapping a bucket of filth on someone couldn’t be done this carelessly.

Every one of them felt the urge to rush over and slap him. This great loudmouth was spouting nonsense at random—it was enough to make people want to kill him.

“Shut your mouth!” Had it not been forbidden to fight in Yaochi’s stone parlor, a great battle would have been unavoidable.

“Am I wrong?” Tu Fei pressed on with complete conviction. “Look at your Yao Guang Sacred Ground—you already have a Saintess, and yet you go and produce a Saintly Son as well. Throughout all history, she’s practically always ended up marrying the Saintly Son—who is also the future Sacred Master. Isn’t it obvious? A Saintly Son who doesn’t court the Saintess isn’t a good Saintly Son—and if he’s not a good Saintly Son, he’ll never become Sacred Master.”

The crowd was utterly dumbfounded. This loudmouth truly had no bounds whatsoever—he could interpret anything this way. Many people were struggling not to laugh, afraid of offending the Yao Guang Sacred Ground.

“Tu Fei, you must have a death wish!” Two young men stepped out from the crowd, both of handsome and outstanding bearing, graceful as immortals.

“Your Saintly Son is right here and you’re all silent—what are you two stepping up for?” Tu Fei had clearly decided to make the Yao Guang Sacred Ground his target. He shook his head with an air of exaggerated sorrow. “Your Sacred Master really is the wiser one—what he said makes perfect sense. You two, stepping in for someone else—you’ll never become Saintly Sons, because you’re not real men.”

The crowd looked on in a mix of laughter and dismay. This loudmouth was truly too much.

“Tu Fei, stop this nonsense, or you’ll be expelled immediately.” The Grand Elder of Yaochi spoke.

“Fine, I’ll stop.” Tu Fei closed his mouth with visible reluctance.

Ye Fan found something odd: Tu Fei backed down for Yaochi, yet for the Yao Guang Sacred Ground he kept up a stream of jabs and mockery—the contrast in his attitude was stark.

By now, Er Lengzi and Wang Shu had each touched all nine source stones, and from the depths of their eyes it was plain that neither was calm. But they said nothing, and as Ye Fan had instructed, they quietly withdrew from the crowd.

Ye Fan did not leave. He stood before the source stones and continued to examine them closely.

Then the crowd parted, and a man and woman walked through. The man was like jade—handsome and outstanding; the woman was willowy and graceful, putting both brilliant pearls and beautiful jade to shame.

They were untouched by the dust of the world—the sort of presence that seems to purify the ordinary. Their steps were light, trailing wafts of immortal energy, truly like deities incarnate.

“The Saintly Son of Yao Guang and the Saintess of Yao Guang!” someone cried out in shock.

Ye Fan’s brow furrowed. Running into Yao Xi was no stroke of luck. He moved without showing it, retreating several steps to let the crowd conceal him.

“Tu Fei, I know you’ve brought a number of people here with intentions against us. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.” The Saintly Son of Yao Guang smiled—like a blazing sun shining directly overhead.

Some people don’t try to stand out, and yet a single casual gesture reveals their exceptional nature without question. The Saintly Son of Yao Guang was exactly such a person: foremost among his peers, like a crane standing among common birds—transcendent. And Yao Xi was beautiful enough to steal the breath, her splendor even more otherworldly—like a divine moon suspended in the heavens, radiating brilliance, making everyone around her feel their own inadequacy. Every inch of her seemed to belong not to the world of mortals, but to the realm of immortals.

Tu Fei was completely unmoved. “Saintly Son of Yao Guang—what can I say about you? You’re nowhere near as wise as your Sacred Master. You really aren’t a real man. The opportunity is gone—there are others in our line of work with far sharper instincts.”

Many from Yao Guang felt the urge to beat him senseless and then kill him. The Saintly Son’s smile didn’t waver. He watched Tu Fei in silence, saying nothing.

“Let me be more direct.” Tu Fei cleared his throat. “You’ll never become the Sacred Master of Yao Guang Sacred Ground. Do you know why? Because you haven’t taken the Saintess as your wife. She no longer belongs to you.”

Nearby, several young disciples of Yao Guang all wanted to rush over and stamp on him until he couldn’t get up.

“I speak the truth—don’t be unwilling to hear it. Those of us in our line of work have the sharpest eyes—we read people most accurately.” Tu Fei was perfectly serious. “Yao Xi, celestial maiden—you don’t belong to Yao Guang. Someday you’ll join our ranks.”

“You do know how to tell a joke.” The Saintly Son of Yao Guang smiled lightly, then shook his head. “I know your purpose. The people you’ve brought with you aren’t enough to kill us. If you disagree, you’re welcome to make your move when we leave Pingyan City.”

“You still haven’t understood what I mean.” Tu Fei’s loudmouth nature reasserted itself in full. “Haven’t you heard? Yao Xi has given her fragrant garment to a talent in our line of work…”

Yao Xi’s brows arched—like thin smoke veiling a bright moon, like drifting light accompanying moonshine—her entire being as though it existed within a celestial realm. Her lips parted slightly. “Tu Fei—it seems your days are numbered.”

Those who knew her well understood: when the Saintess of Yao Guang’s killing intent reached its peak, if they had not been inside the Yaochi Celestial Stone Parlor, she would have drawn her divine sword long ago.

“How strange—didn’t you and the talent in our line of work—little brother Ye Fan—already get all ‘tangled up’? We’re practically on the same side now. So why am I sensing such strong killing intent?”