The Hall of Undying — a name carrying the fairy-tale promise of eternal, undying life — was in truth the renowned “Tomb of the Yellow Springs” recorded within the Source Heavenly Book.
The Black Emperor was given a fright. “Young one, are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?”
“I have seen the Fire Dragon Tomb in person and stood at the Dragon Blood Pool with my own feet. I could not be mistaken about the Tomb of the Yellow Springs, which stands among their ranks.” By now, Ye Fan’s understanding of the art of source had reached an exceedingly high level.
The vast hall was completely silent, utterly without sound — no fluctuation of life to be sensed.
“There’s no danger. If this were truly the Tomb of the Yellow Springs, we’d be in serious trouble by now.” The Great Black Dog was skeptical.
The Tomb of the Yellow Springs was an extraordinarily dangerous ill-omened place. That an ancient sage would have expended such enormous effort to carve a source mountain into a palace — this was truly a grand undertaking.
Ye Fan and the Black Emperor returned to the first main hall. Not wanting to act rashly, they needed to observe carefully.
“Runic patterns — I can sense them at last. There are extraordinarily powerful runic patterns here! They draw upon a certain inexplicable force and turn it to their own use — giving this place its undying effect.” The Great Black Dog said suddenly.
“And where does that force come from?” Ye Fan asked.
The Black Emperor closed its eyes. A long time passed before it snapped them open and said: “Right in the center of this main hall!”
Ye Fan drove the cauldron forward to the center of the ancient hall. The floor was covered in source stones, carved with various patterns of birds, fish, insects, and beasts.
Ye Fan stepped out of the cauldron and lifted one of the stone slabs on the ground. A pitch-black deep well appeared before his eyes.
“Indeed… what grand methods the ancient sage possessed — turning an ill-omened place to his own use!”
“Where does this broken well lead?”
“To the Yellow Springs, naturally — drawing upon that divine power for the Hall of Undying to use.”
From somewhere below came a faint, intermittent sound of flowing water, along with drifting currents of dark, spectral energy rising upward.
“What exactly is special about the Tomb of the Yellow Springs?” The Great Black Dog asked.
“According to the records in the Source Heavenly Book, it contains the waters of the Nine Nether Yellow Springs, sealed within a source vein. Within it, something inconceivable has gestated.” Ye Fan answered.
Suddenly, from below, yin energy rose like a blade, surging upward, along with flickers of glittering radiance — darkness no longer absolute.
Ye Fan hurried back into the cauldron and peered down into the deep well.
The Great Black Dog also stretched its neck, staring wide-eyed without blinking.
Splash, splash, splash!
The sound of water rang like metal on stone — as though immensely heavy, clanging and resonant as it flowed. A hazy corona of light spread outward.
“That really is the Yellow Springs!” The Great Black Dog exclaimed in shock.
Just below, there was a water channel, sealed within a gleaming, translucent source vein. A great yellow river surged through it like a roaring yellow dragon.
“It is said that when the Nine Nether Yellow Springs withdrew from the mortal realm, it left some traces behind underground. Can this truly be real?” The Great Black Dog was astonished.
Ye Fan’s expression was solemn as he stared at the Yellow Springs below in silence. He was not particularly preoccupied with those things — they were dead matter after all. What he cared about was what had gestated within the Yellow Springs.
Whoosh!
Spiritual energy surged like a dragon along the ancient well, rushing upward — making one feel as though bathed in the warmth of spring.
“Damn it — this is the aura of divine source!” The Great Black Dog was startled. “Young one, do something quickly — there’s divine source down there! Get it up here fast!”
“Do you think I don’t want to? But do either of us have the power to do so? If we break open the source vein, we’ll both die here.” Ye Fan said gravely.
Just then, from within the rushing Yellow Springs, a glimmer of light emerged. In the vague distance, an elongated piece of source stone drifted past with the current.
“That — doesn’t it look like a stone coffin?” The Great Black Dog was startled.
“That is divine source — with something sealed inside!” Ye Fan’s expression was grave.
The elongated source stone sank to the bottom of the Yellow Springs, difficult to make out clearly, before being swept away and carried deeper into the source vein. Darkness fell below once more.
“Divine source — there’s a piece of divine source beneath the Hall of Undying!” The Great Black Dog hopped about anxiously.
Of course, their exchange was not spoken aloud — they had been communicating through divine sense the entire time.
Ye Fan replaced the stone slab, sealing the well opening again, and murmured: “The ancient sage was truly no ordinary figure — to turn an ill-omened place to his own use. The Tomb of the Yellow Springs has been sealed.”
At the same time he furrowed his brow. From this he could infer that a single piece of divine source would not offset ten million jin of source — otherwise, the ancient Sacred Physique’s remains would certainly have been used to refine it long ago, and not left there untouched.
“The Divine Palace secret realm is truly an insurmountable chasm…”
Ye Fan and the Great Black Dog passed through four main halls in succession. In the center of each lay a well leading down to the source vein where the Yellow Springs were sealed below.
Within each well, complex runic patterns were carved — transforming the deadly power of this ill-omened place into an undying force. This greatly intrigued the Great Black Dog, but after studying at length, it could not comprehend them.
“It’s truly something that leaves one speechless — Yellow Springs below, Hall of Undying above…” Ye Fan reflected.
What had originally been a place of profound ill omen had been transformed by the ancient sage, through mysteries of runic patterns beyond reckoning, into a place where the flow of lifespan could be slowed.
Life and death were so near — separated by only a single well.
After passing through six successive chambers and discovering six ancient wells, Ye Fan finally set his mind at ease. The Tomb of the Yellow Springs was thoroughly sealed. Even after such an immense span of time, the runic patterns had not failed.
For if the seal on such an ill-omened place were broken even slightly, neither he nor the Great Black Dog would have any chance of surviving — it would have been impossible to remain alive.
In the seventh main hall, Ye Fan and the Great Black Dog dimly made out what lay within the Yellow Springs — and it truly was a stone coffin, connected to a piece of divine source.
“How could such a thing be here?”
“A stone coffin within the Yellow Springs…” Ye Fan was also greatly startled. What figure from the primordial era could this be?
He only knew that certain divine sources contained sealed primordial creatures — but this was the first time he had encountered one sealed with a stone coffin.
“I have a feeling this may not be what it seems — probably not a primordial creature at all!” The Great Black Dog’s eyes flickered with light, as though it had recalled something.
Upon entering the eighth ancient hall, Ye Fan was somewhat disappointed — he found no stone carvings of any cultivation techniques.
“Did the ancient sage leave nothing behind?” He was puzzled.
The Hall of Undying was clearly a place of great significance — permanently suspended in the air, a place where that Sacred Physique had passed away in meditation — and yet nothing had been left behind at all.
“This place does contain a secret method. But you won’t be able to obtain it — even this Emperor can only stare helplessly.”
“What have you discovered?” Ye Fan asked.
“Runic patterns, naturally. When the great cultivators of antiquity gained insight into the great Dao of heaven and earth, they would inscribe it in the form of runic patterns — rarely recording it in written characters.” The Great Black Dog said.
Ye Fan furrowed his brow. He was still unable to pursue the study of runic patterns in depth — let alone when even the Great Black Dog, with its profound mastery, could make nothing of them. But he was not discouraged — for he had already obtained the supreme Great Dao secret art from those remains.
Only the final chamber remained. He was about to be reunited with Pang Bo, and Ye Fan greatly feared that something unexpected might have befallen him.
Ye Fan and the Black Emperor, inside the cauldron, slowly made their way toward the ninth ancient hall. In the course of their passage, they noticed the spiritual energy had become far denser — and a faint luminescence was seeping through from ahead.
They remained on the highest alert — for a great battle was likely about to erupt. A battle of divine sense was the most perilous of all: one moment of carelessness could mean utter annihilation!
When they pushed open the heavy stone doors and entered this hall, they were met with radiant brightness — all darkness swept away.
“This…”
It was nothing like a hall at all. The space was immensely vast — broader than the previous eight chambers combined.
Grass and trees grew lush and verdant. Flowers of every color bloomed everywhere. Ancient trees stretched their branches wide, draped in hanging vines.
A stream babbled over rounded pebbles. An ancient pavilion stood nestled within. Tall, upright pines rose straight into the air.
It was less a hall than a natural garden.
“This is a self-contained pocket of space!” The Great Black Dog said in astonishment.
An ancient sage who could open a small world would have no difficulty opening a smaller pocket of space within a single hall.
This was a bright, life-filled world. Stepping so suddenly from the pitch-black, impenetrable darkness of the previous halls into such a lush space was deeply astonishing — the contrast between the two was simply too great.
Ye Fan swept his gaze in all directions, searching for Pang Bo’s figure. His powerful divine sense transformed into a golden sword, ready to strike at any moment.
A small stone path wound through an ancient grove. Vines were everywhere, hanging down from the trees to the ground, blooming with clusters of small white flowers.
“Pang Bo!”
Light blazed in Ye Fan’s eyes as he gazed into the grove.
Ahead, within the ancient grove, a sacrificial altar stood half-concealed by the trees. Atop it, a tall, towering figure sat in silent meditation, covered in fallen leaves — as though he had not moved in a long time.
His build was extraordinarily powerful — far more imposing than an ordinary person. His upper body was bare, his bronze skin glowing with a healthy luster, thick black hair cascading down to his waist.
It was Pang Bo. They had parted not even a year after arriving in this world. Several years had passed — and today, at last, they were reunited.
Whoosh!
Pang Bo, sitting cross-legged atop the sacrificial altar, suddenly opened his eyes — like two bolts of lightning, keen and sharp.
Seeing that piercing gaze, Ye Fan’s heart immediately sank. This was most certainly not Pang Bo. It gave him an overwhelming sense of extreme danger.
Though the figure before him wore his closest friend’s body, it radiated the aura of a wild beast — a terrifying, ferocious presence.
“Attack!” Ye Fan shouted.
The Black Emperor let out a thunderous roar — like a savage dragon crying out across mountains and rivers, sending this entire pocket of space trembling violently.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
A full several hundred banners were hurled outward, surrounding the grove and the sacrificial altar within.
The banners snapped and billowed, covering the sky in all directions, sealing off the grove and the altar — cutting off any chance of escape.
“Hmph!”
A deep, cold snort rang out. The powerful figure on the altar — eyes sharp as blades — fixed his gaze on Ye Fan and said: “Have you come to return the Scripture of the Dao?”
“What have you done to Pang Bo?!” Ye Fan roared.
“I am Pang Bo — and I am just fine, as you can see,” the powerful figure atop the altar answered, still unmoving. But the terrifying aura emanating from him grew even more oppressive.
“Young one — you said this was a wandering ghost at death’s door. Why does it feel to me like facing a true dragon?” The Black Emperor transmitted urgently.
At this moment, the bare-chested Pang Bo truly did resemble a ferocious ancient beast — radiating a powerful, overwhelming sense of pressure.
“He’s putting on a show — he doesn’t have much longer. Put out our greatest strength together and we can absolutely take him down!” Ye Fan was the first to strike. The small golden lake at the center of his brow gave rise to a golden sword, which slashed out in an instant.
Clang!
From the center of Pang Bo’s brow, a divine ray shot out, meeting Ye Fan’s golden sword head-on. Blazing in a burst of dazzling and terrifying radiance, it was like two iron hammers smashing into each other.
“Such powerful divine sense — in just a few years, you’ve achieved this.” The eyes of this Pang Bo gleamed with deep spiritual light. “I have long had my eye on your body. Today you’ve come to deliver yourself — I’ll take them both together!”
“Roar…”
The Great Black Dog bellowed like a savage dragon, its roar moving mountains and rivers, making it nearly impossible to imagine what kind of force was contained within it — sending this pocket of space shuddering violently.
A crack split open on its forehead, and a third vertical eye appeared. A terrifying black light shot forth, slashing toward the figure on the altar!