The qilin is a legendary creature, ranked alongside the dragon, passed down only through spoken word and written text throughout history — almost no one has ever truly seen one. Like the legendary dragon, only those of impure bloodline exist in the world, often mistaken for dragons — the jiao-dragon being one such example. The qilin is the same: no true qilin has ever manifested in the world. Only the bloodlines passed down from the primordial age survive to this day, resembling qilins in form alone, yet not truly qilins in nature. They are called qilin beasts.

These ancient wild creatures of impure bloodline, though their divine blood has long since grown thin, remain extraordinarily powerful — their strength comparable to that of a great demon. The procession that arrived with nine qilin beasts pulling a ceremonial carriage was an extravagance of such magnitude that it left all who witnessed it shaken.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!

Dozens of divine rainbow streaks blazed forward to clear the way. Nine ancient wild creatures resembling qilins thundered forward in their wake, coming to a halt before the Demon Emperor’s burial mound. The jade carriage gleamed brilliantly, radiating ten thousand auspicious rays, divine mists swirling around it in a display that was truly extraordinary.

An elder from the Yao Guang Holy Land said in a hushed voice: “When a great figure from the ancient clan, the Ji Family, travels, he uses a carriage pulled by nine jiao-dragons. By that comparison, whoever rides in a carriage pulled by nine qilin beasts must possess a transcendent status well above the ordinary.”

A powerful cultivator aboard the Ji Family’s ancient war chariot responded with a wry smile: “The one who travels by nine jiao-dragons is a clan uncle of our Family Head. Given the grandeur of this procession before us, even if this person is not the head of an ancient family, they cannot be far from it.”

The cultivators of the Yao Guang Holy Land and the Ji Family all felt a tremor in their hearts, none daring to step forward to pay their respects. All were held in check by this mysterious great figure, with no one able to discern their identity. The dozen or so women from the Yaochi Holy Land were also whispering amongst themselves, yet could not determine which great personage had arrived.

After the nine qilin beasts came to a stop, no movement came from within the jade carriage. The great figure inside did not emerge, seemingly waiting in silence for something. Nearby, that enormous divine vessel — consecrated from sacred jade — hung suspended in the air, having drawn no closer, as though it held a measure of wariness toward the jade carriage.

It was clear this was merely a prelude. More sects were still arriving in succession. Without needing to think, one could tell that more than a thousand people would gather before dawn. Once the news spread completely, this place would erupt into a frenzy — the Demon Emperor’s burial mound would capture the attention of every cultivator in the Eastern Desolation.

“The emergence of a Demon Emperor’s tomb is of momentous significance. Those holy lands far at the edge of the world, upon receiving the news, will surely inscribe Dao-runes into the earth of their grounds, gather celestial energy, open ancient paths, and rapidly traverse space to descend upon the lands of Yan.”

The burial mound blazed with brilliant light into the heavens, and the crowd surrounding it grew ever larger. People murmured softly from time to time. Even those who knew they had no hope of seizing a precious treasure had come, wishing to witness with their own eyes a great event that would shake the Eastern Desolation.

Ye Fan turned and walked away without looking back. There was nothing here worth lingering for. A great deal of time had already passed, and with no sign of Pang Bo’s return, he could wait no longer.

Pang Bo… please be safe…

Ye Fan traversed mountain after mountain with great speed, and within a short time had traveled far from that ancient ground. He ran on and on, yet found nothing even as the sky grew bright with dawn.

Divine rainbow streaks occasionally cut across the sky above this primordial ancient ground, all the cultivators flying in one direction — clearly all heading toward the Demon Emperor’s burial mound.

Where in the world did he go… Did I take the wrong direction? Ye Fan had been tracking along the whole way with nothing to show for it. Yet he did not give up, pressing onward — until midday, when he sensed a faint, peculiar pulse.

It’s… the Demon Emperor’s Heart beating. I’ve found the right direction!

Ye Fan moved quickly in pursuit, but half an hour later he found himself back where he had started, as though he had never left at all.

Ahead, five great mountains stood side by side — sheer and steep, rising straight up, like five fingers of a hand standing upright.

What’s going on… Ye Fan was puzzled, though he did not dwell on it, assuming he had simply lost his bearings. He stopped, carefully oriented himself, and set off again — confident that this time he would not circle back. Yet half an hour later, he stood dumbfounded. He had returned to the same spot.

Why is this happening?

Back at the starting point again, Ye Fan knew something extraordinary was at work. This place was only a few hundred li from the Demon Emperor’s burial mound, still within the range of the ancient ground. Something strange was afoot.

Initially he had paid little attention to the surroundings, but now, looking carefully, he was struck with astonishment. Those five side-by-side mountains truly resembled the enormous palm of some divine being, the five peaks like five great fingers.

Could it be that the mountain ridges and earth veins here have been inscribed with Dao-runes, forming some kind of mysterious “momentum” that disorients one’s perception…

Ye Fan murmured this guess to himself. He closed his eyes and moved entirely by instinct, using his own heartbeat to sense the strong and steady pulse of the Demon Emperor’s Heart. He did not know how much time passed — until suddenly, a surge of spiritual energy washed over him from ahead.

Ye Fan opened his eyes and found himself, without knowing when, inside a world fragrant with flowers and birdsong, like the sacred pureland spoken of in legends — the scenery was beautiful as poetry and painting, exquisitely lovely.

And at this moment, he could truly feel the beating of the Demon Emperor’s Heart, causing his own heart to throb with bouts of sharp pain. It lay deep within this pureland — more precisely, behind those few graceful mountain peaks.

Immortal mist drifted all around, pavilions and palace halls flickering in and out of sight deep within the immortal mountains. Ye Fan walked forward quickly. Then, suddenly, he saw a beautiful silhouette standing on a cliff ahead. Swirling mist surrounded her; the woman was dressed entirely in white, pure and holy as snow, her robes dancing in the breeze — she looked like an immortal fairy on the verge of riding the wind away.

She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman — like an orchid blooming in a secluded valley, utterly otherworldly, with a serene beauty that blended seamlessly with the splendid natural scenery around her, as though she were part of the very essence of heaven and earth.

Ye Fan had never believed that perfection existed in this world, yet the woman on the cliff ahead gave him a flawless impression — not only in her face, which was of a beauty that could topple kingdoms and cities, but even in her bearing, which was so transcendent and refined, so untouched by the mortal world, that it made one feel ashamed of one’s own inadequacy, as though every beautiful thing in this world would fade to dullness before her.

This woman of peerless grace appeared to be no more than eighteen or nineteen years old. Her dark hair danced lightly, her long lashes trembled, her eyes seemed veiled in a misty haze, her red lips and jade-white teeth gleamed with a crystalline luster. Her neck was delicate and slender, her skin like ice and jade, her features exquisite, her visage one of transcendent beauty, her curves softly veiled — all of it gave one the feeling of pure, unblemished perfection.

Ye Fan was a steadfast and self-assured person, and was not greatly affected. After a brief moment of being spellbound, he quickly composed himself and stepped forward with a confident stride.

At that moment, the woman on the cliff turned to look at him and gave a light, shallow smile. It was as if an immortal blossom had burst into full bloom — radiant and brilliant, stripping even the sun in the sky of its color.

Even as he marveled at this beauty, a strange feeling arose in Ye Fan’s heart. This woman was too unreal — like a dream, like an illusion, flawless and unsullied, so perfect she was nearly otherworldly.

“Stop here. If you go further, you will lose your life.” A voice like the music of heaven reached him — extraordinarily pleasing to the ear, yet it sent a chill through Ye Fan. He felt that this perfect woman was not speaking in jest.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!

The sound of air being split apart rang out, and several great demons who had vanished earlier burst forth from deep within the immortal mountains, appearing at the woman’s side. The golden-haired girl with a pair of wings, the aged jiao-dragon, the powerfully built man with scales covering both arms, the giant with bull’s horns — all of them were pale-faced, seemingly having depleted their vital energy. They approached the perfect woman with a submissive posture and stood respectfully before her, then turned to look at Ye Fan, killing intent flickering in their eyes.

“Let him… leave!”

At that moment, Pang Bo’s voice came from within the cloud-shrouded immortal mountains behind the cliff. He seemed to be in great pain, forcing those four words out through gritted teeth.

“Kill him and be done with it!” The aged jiao-dragon advanced toward Ye Fan with menace.

BOOM!

Suddenly, a torrent of demonic energy surged forth like a boundless ocean. In an instant, a figure appeared in the sky — Pang Bo’s head of black hair wild and frenzied, his entire being like a deep abyss and vast sea, exuding an endless sense of pressure. He bore the weight of ten thousand mountains in his bearing, so oppressive it left people struggling to breathe.

At this moment, Pang Bo’s cheeks and forehead were covered in demonic script, and even his bare chest and arms were densely covered in dragon runes and phoenix sigils. Ancient characters were scattered across every part of his body, green energy coiling around him, and the green light shooting from his eyes reached dozens of meters in length.

“I said, let him leave!” His expression was utterly cold as he fixed his gaze on the aged jiao-dragon.

The jiao-dragon and the other great demons turned their eyes simultaneously toward the near-perfect young woman on the cliff, as though awaiting her command. This perfect woman gave a light smile and said, “Do not harm him. Send him away from here.”

“Pang Bo…” Ye Fan called out loudly, staring at the figure in the sky — wreathed in demonic energy, bearing the might of mountains — calling his name again and again. Yet at this moment, Pang Bo was at once familiar and strange. His expression was cold and detached. He looked in Ye Fan’s direction but said nothing, then vanished from the sky with a flash, gone in the blink of an eye. The ocean-like demonic power ebbed away like a retreating tide.

Immediately after, Ye Fan felt his body grow light. The golden-haired girl with a pair of gilded wings — beautiful and graceful — flew to him swiftly. She imprisoned him in a beam of light and carried him skyward in an instant.

Ye Fan kept shouting: “Pang Bo…”

Soon, rushing air poured into his mouth, cutting off his cries. The golden-haired girl carried him at tremendous speed through the sky, and only helpless, muffled sounds could be heard as they disappeared in an instant.

Whoosh!

Before long, the golden-haired girl descended with Ye Fan, setting him down. She gave him a long, deep look and said, “Take care of yourself. Leave while you can.” With that, she transformed into a streak of golden light and shot into the sky.

Ye Fan tilted his head back and roared to the heavens: “Release Pang Bo!” But no one answered him. The streak of golden light vanished in the blink of an eye.

Here, only a few li from the Demon Emperor’s burial mound, the brilliant light blazing from that direction was clearly visible. An ancient palace hall rose and sank slowly in the sky, and a great multitude of cultivators had gathered there. Ye Fan had been brought back to the primitive ruins.