Ji Ziyue drifted forward like a purple cloud, light and graceful. Her hair fell to her waist, her skin surpassed snow, and her smile was impossibly sweet—her large eyes curving into crescents, dimples surfacing on her cheeks, a touch of playful cleverness about her, the spiritual wisdom of heaven and earth gathered in her being.
Ji Haoyue—true to his name, he was like a divine moon, a faint, bright luminescence subtly emanating from his very skin. The Divine Body possessed an innate and distinctive authority from birth—one felt, standing before him, as though facing a deity.
“Little Sister Ziyue…” Yao Xi also smiled beautifully, her slender figure like a section of divine jade with scattered points of divine radiance. She moved forward to meet her, taking Ji Ziyue’s hand.
“Older Sister Yao Xi—it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” Ji Ziyue said with a sweet smile.
Ji Haoyue also nodded a greeting: “I didn’t expect Fairy Yao Xi to have come to Li City as well.”
“I’m merely passing through to take a look. But Brother Haoyue’s presence here—you must have come with firm intentions,” Yao Xi said, her eyes moving expressively. As the Yao Guang Sacred Lady, she possessed a certain bewitching charm in her manner. “Your arrival is sure to make many people uneasy. With the Divine Body here, many powerhouses will have to step aside.”
Ji Haoyue shook his head. “Everything depends on fate. A priceless treasure—everyone wants it—but most will likely leave disappointed. I won’t set my hopes too high.”
“And this is…?” Ji Ziyue spotted Ye Fan again and felt a mild surprise. She continued to feel there was something unusual about this little Daoist priest, yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on what.
Yao Xi smiled. “This is the renowned Daoist Duan—and this little Daoist priest, I’m afraid I don’t know.”
“The poor monk’s name is Zhengde,” Ye Fan replied.
Duan De slanted him a glance and said: “In that case, we’re both of the ‘De’ generation.”
“Could you be that unscrupulous Daoist?” Ji Ziyue’s little mouth formed a perfect “O,” her long lashes fluttering lightly.
“The poor monk is Duan De, known among men as the Daoist of Righteous Aura,” Duan De said, chanting a Daoist invocation, his expression grave and venerable, the air of a transcendent recluse about him.
Yao Xi pressed her lips together in a slight smile, her face brightening. “Whatever his title, he is certainly the person you have in mind.”
“So it really is you!” Ji Ziyue puffed up her cheeks and glared at him.
Ji Haoyue’s expression also darkened. “Daoist Duan—you have gone again and again to Ji River, lurking near the burial grounds of our Ji Family ancestors. What exactly are you after?”
Ye Fan was somewhat dumbfounded. This fat Daoist truly had nerves of steel—he had even set his sights on the Ji Family’s ancestral tombs, and somehow lived to tell about it.
“Infinite Celestial Worthy—Ji Family’s future Divine King, you must not wrongly accuse the poor monk,” Duan De said with righteous dignity. “Ji River has flowed for tens of thousands of years. Though it bears the name Ji, it is not your Ji Family’s exclusive property. The poor monk merely passed by on occasion, yet your Ji Family called out hunting parties after me—truly a great injustice of life.”
“You passed by Ji River—we had no objection to that. But why did you keep peering toward our Ji Family’s burial grounds?” Ji Ziyue demanded, puffing out her little cheeks.
“The poor monk saw the mausoleum stretching across a vast expanse, its grandeur awe-inspiring. It was only natural to linger one’s gaze. Thinking back to the ancient days—the Void Emperor, tens of thousands of tribulations and still undying, solitary and unmatched, wishing to rival all of heaven—the poor monk could not help but feel a profound reverence.”
Ye Fan’s heart gave a jolt. The Demon Emperor’s burial mound had left too deep an impression on him. The Ji Family had once produced a great emperor as well—could it be that a great emperor’s tomb had been left behind?
The remains of ancient sages could be refined into matchless weapons—and if an ancient great emperor at their peak could suppress all enemies of the same generation without exception, their remains would be even more potent; they would be an incomparable treasure for weapon refinement.
“The elders of our clan witnessed with their own eyes your attempt to scheme against the tombs of our Ji Family’s departed Divine Kings,” Ji Ziyue said, her small prominent teeth gleaming as she fixed the unscrupulous Daoist with a stare.
“There was nothing of the sort. I merely glanced curiously in that direction—and then those several old men chased me for three thousand li. It nearly cost me my life. Next time, I’ll keep my eyes completely averted.”
Though Ji Haoyue’s expression was unfriendly, he did not intend to start a conflict—not at this particular juncture, when he had no desire to make new enemies. He knew full well that this Daoist was anything but simple.
“Little Daoist priest—are you together with the fat Daoist?” Ji Ziyue looked Ye Fan over again.
“He wants to wager against me—says he has information about the Nine Secrets,” Ye Fan said directly. He had absolutely no faith that the unscrupulous Daoist would provide him any genuinely valuable clues.
“Then Daoist Duan knows some very important clues?” Yao Xi asked with a smile.
“Could it be that the tomb-raider is none other than Daoist Duan himself?” Ji Ziyue teased.
Duan De spoke with perfect confidence: “The poor monk’s knowledge is limited—but some small insight has been gained, and so this wager with Daoist Zhengde.”
Ji Ziyue offered a well-meaning warning: “Little Daoist priest, don’t wager with him—he’s the notorious unscrupulous Daoist. He’s never done an honest transaction in his life. He never makes a deal where he’s on the losing end.”
“Princess of the Ji Family—you absolutely cannot slander me. The poor monk is a man of righteous aura, thoroughly open and upright,” Duan De said with consummate shamelessness.
“Hmph.” Ji Ziyue rolled her eyes at him, then turned to Ye Fan. “Little Daoist priest, I’ll tell you the information for free—no need to listen to his nonsense.”
“The poor monk is grateful to Miss Ji,” Ye Fan said with a nod of thanks.
Li City had indeed produced news concerning the Nine Secrets—and it all began because of a tomb raider.
Not long ago, an antique weapons shop in the Northern Region had acquired a broken bronze bell. Two characters were discovered upon it—”Nine Secrets”—which instantly sent a shock through the community.
They carefully restored and repaired the ancient bell, and from it discovered over a hundred ancient characters. From these, they deduced the bell was a burial object—something unearthed from the tomb of an ancient cultivator.
The text on the broken bronze bell was sparse, the records fragmentary and unclear. It described, in general terms, certain deeds of the tomb’s occupant—and in the final sentence, mentioned briefly that the occupant’s family lineage had passed down one of the Nine Secrets.
The Nine Secrets—each one possessed of inconceivable power, supreme divine techniques coveted by the world throughout all ages, shaking both ancient and modern times.
It was precisely because they were so mighty that, in that distant past, they had been separated and scattered across the world, never to be gathered again.
The emergence of the bronze bell struck people’s hearts like a tidal wave, for at present only three or four of the Nine Secrets were known to still exist in the world. The remaining ones had all but entirely been lost.
If this were to result in one more of the Nine Secrets emerging into the world, every sect and faction would go mad for it—an absolutely priceless divine technique.
“So to summarize—a tomb raider dug up a broken bronze bell, and that sparked the possibility of one of the Nine Secrets emerging?” Ye Fan was astonished.
Ji Ziyue nodded. “Unfortunately, when they found the tomb raider, he had already died under inexplicable circumstances.”
“Silenced?”
“No—it seemed he had fallen under a curse. Such malicious techniques are often laid down within the tombs of ancient cultivators,” Ji Ziyue answered.
The antique weapons shop had been unable to keep the secret. News spread quickly, and many people used the fragmentary records on the bronze bell to extrapolate a general location—pointing to Li City.
Ye Fan looked at Duan De with a displeased expression. “This information will spread everywhere before long—and you have the audacity to try and sell it to me for ten thousand jin of source stones?”
Duan De’s face glowed with health and satisfaction. “When the information has spread, it loses its value. Right now, its value lies in being early. Knowing one day sooner means a head start of several steps—in my estimation, it is worth ten thousand jin of source stones.”
“You really do know how to talk nonsense.” Ye Fan had no desire to argue with him further.
The Nine Secrets—one of them, its lineage broken, might be rediscovered here. Ye Fan was deeply moved. He held two of the Nine Secrets already; no one understood better than he did just how terrifying these divine techniques truly were. He would rather trade ancient scriptures for this than let it pass.
“Daoist Duan—you have traveled the world far and wide. I wonder if you have any other clues to offer? Perhaps the several of us might cooperate?” Yao Xi said with a smile.
“I worry that at the critical moment I’d be silenced by your people,” Duan De said with a sly grin.
“How could that be? I speak only of us few here—the forces behind each of us have not yet arrived,” Yao Xi replied, her smile radiant.
“The poor monk has a few ideas in mind and would indeed benefit from some assistance…” A thoughtful look crossed Duan De’s plump face.
“Brother Haoyue—what do you think?” Yao Xi asked Ji Haoyue.
The Ji Family’s future Divine King had no fondness for Duan De—yet he also recognized that this fat Daoist was unusual and possessed certain peculiar methods. Cooperating with him would not be a bad deal.
“Very well,” Ji Haoyue said with a nod.
Ji Ziyue wrinkled her delicate nose. “Daoist Duan—what ideas do you have in mind? What clues have you gathered?”
“I know that a supremely great figure came to Li City long ago, searching for the Nine Secrets—and I have some knowledge of the route he traveled.”
“How could you possibly know the movements of such a great figure?” Ji Ziyue was skeptical.
“I discovered a record of it in a rare, one-of-a-kind ancient text.”
“In that case, it would have been a very long time ago,” Yao Xi said, surprised.
Duan De nodded. “Indeed—an exceedingly long time ago. Which, from another angle, proves that Li City absolutely contains one of the Nine Secrets. Unfortunately, it has been lost for countless ages and most likely lies buried underground.”
“If that great figure failed to find the Nine Secrets, of what use is knowing his clues?” Ye Fan asked.
“He was not entirely without gains—he left behind some extremely valuable clues,” Duan De replied with a sly chuckle.
“Who exactly was this great figure you speak of?” Ji Haoyue pressed, frowning.
“Ji Family’s future Divine King—you always doubt me. Very well, I’ll tell you plainly: he was Gai Jiuyou, from eight thousand years ago.”
“What?!”
“Gai Jiuyou of the Central Province…”
Everyone was stunned. That name was far too resounding—eight thousand years ago, Gai Jiuyou’s fame had shaken the Central Province and spread even to the Eastern Wastelands. Unmatched beneath the heavens. Some had even believed he could become a great emperor.
“In his later years, he came to our Eastern Wastelands. I suspect in the end he most likely died and was buried in this land,” Duan De replied.
The group all wore strange expressions, staring at Duan De until he began to feel uncomfortable. “Why are you all staring at me like that?”
“Daoist Duan—could it be that you’ve dug up Gai Jiuyou’s tomb?”
“You think too poorly of me. The poor monk would never dig up someone’s grave without reason. And besides—where Gai Jiuyou died and was buried, no one in the world knows.”
“Enough of this—let us focus on finding the Nine Secrets,” Ji Haoyue said in a low voice.
According to the records Duan De had uncovered, Gai Jiuyou had indeed come here, and left behind invaluable clues.
Fifteen thousand years ago, there had been an ancient family clan in Li Prefecture—very mysterious, and very low-key. They were suspected of cultivating one of the Nine Secrets.
With the passage of ages, this ancient family had long since vanished into the mists of history.
“There are many ancient tombs outside Li City—but we need not excavate them one by one. We only need to locate the burial ground of that ancient family, and we may make an astounding discovery.”
When they left Li City, they saw numerous cultivators streaming in.
Ye Fan first spotted Wu Zhongtian, Jiang Huairen, Liu Kou, and Li Heishui—and then, to his astonishment, caught sight of the Golden-Winged Little Peng King.
“He’s here too—surely not to kill the Yao Guang Holy Son or Ji Haoyue?” He knew all too well just how fearsome the Golden-Winged Little Peng King could be.
In the outskirts of Li City, numerous figures were already moving among the burial grounds. Yao Xi frowned immediately.
Duan De said: “It doesn’t matter. Li City has been relocated several times over the past fifteen thousand years. The burial areas are spread across many locations—they won’t find it.”