Pang Bo had an impressively imposing build — standing two or three heads taller than the average person, with thick brows and large eyes, his skin bronzed like ancient copper, radiating an aura of raw strength. At this moment, his heart was surging with excitement.

Yet his expression remained perfectly composed. Not wanting to reveal anything that might put others on guard, he stepped forward and thumped Ye Fan on the shoulder with his fist, transmitting through sound: “Only you could come up with something like this. Let me have a look.”

Like Ye Fan, Pang Bo had arrived here by following the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin, inexplicably traversing the ancient star road through the void to reach this world. He harbored a particular emotional bond with this coffin.

“What is that big fat man doing over there?” From a distance, someone stared with eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

“Damn it, who called me fat? This is muscle — not fat! Open your eyes and take a proper look!” Pang Bo huffed. His arms were thicker than most people’s thighs; he was undeniably built like a fortress.

“He was just biting the coffin!” No one paid him any attention, simply stating the facts of what they had just witnessed.

“It really is hard,” Pang Bo muttered to himself.

Ye Fan was also rendered speechless. Pang Bo really was something else — the first thing he did upon arriving was take a bite out of the Ancient Bronze Coffin. Was he working out his frustrations on it? Even Ye Fan found himself momentarily dazed.

“Damn it, I’ve been gnawing on coffin boards lately — it’s become a habit. Just pretend you didn’t see anything,” Pang Bo said, even he himself feeling a little embarrassed.

“I’ll go find you dragon marrow in the future,” Ye Fan said.

“It’s fine. The Undying Ancient Tea Tree is the world’s foremost divine enlightenment tree. Even after being refined into coffin boards, it still carries wondrous effects. I also got struck by heavenly lightning and broke into the Immortal Platform Secret Realm.” Pang Bo declared with unconcealed pride.

“That fellow even wants to eat coffins — stay as far away from him as possible in the future.” A powerful figure warned his disciples, considering Pang Bo a kind of inhuman demon, fundamentally unlike ordinary people.

From a distance, many onlookers were left speechless, staring at Pang Bo from left to right, genuinely unable to tell that such a magnificent and towering man could inspire such unease.

Among the Wang Family, someone burst out laughing. A middle-aged man clasped his hands behind his back and strode forward, saying, “Arriving while carrying a coffin — is that prepared for yourself? Knowing certain death awaits, and still coming to fight.”

“That’s prepared for all of you,” Li Heishui transmitted from within the crowd, expressing his extreme dissatisfaction with this ancient clan of the Northern Plains.

Pang Bo shook his head. “Wrong. They aren’t worthy of this bronze coffin. It’s meant to see them off on their way out.”

Buried within the Ancient Bronze Coffin lay an existence that defied all reckoning. Not just them — even a remote-antiquity saint would lack the qualifications to claim lordship within it.

“Ha ha ha…” On the other side, the Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family laughed aloud but said nothing more. The implication was unmistakable — he was mocking Ye Fan for overestimating himself.

Ye Fan walked forward with the bronze coffin strapped to his back, each step leaving an imprint in the void. The sight caused many faces to change color. Such physical dominance absolutely surpassed that of a Holy Master. They assumed it was a show of intimidation. Little did they know that the coffin was simply crushingly heavy — more terrifying than a great mountain range, sufficient to press even a sect master flat to the ground. Even Ye Fan, possessing a Sacred Physique, found it deeply strenuous to carry. However, after leaving the Desolate Ancient Forbidden Land, his spiritual power had revived; he could now draw upon it alongside his physical body to support the load, making the task no longer quite so grinding.

“Since you’ve come to pay a visit to my Ji Family, then come inside.” An elder of the Ji Family spoke up. He was an old acquaintance of Wang Teng’s Mysterious Ancestor, and his face revealed nothing.

“You have come from afar as a guest — please, enter.” The Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family also spoke, wearing a faint smile laced with coldness.

The Ji Family possessed the Ancient Void Mirror, which overawed all of antiquity. No matter how formidable one’s divine abilities or how transcendent one’s cultivation, once inside, one would be suppressed — truly a dragon’s den and tiger’s lair.

The Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family’s invitation carried no warmth. Instead, it was edged with coldness — essentially a trap, devoid of any goodwill.

“Little Ye, you must not go inside!” From afar, Li Heishui transmitted through sound, warning him about the terrifying nature of the Void Mirror. Once inside, even possessing the Script of Movement — Xing Zi Jue — would not allow escape.

“Since I have come, naturally I must pay my respects. I shall enter the Ji Family and bow before the Void Emperor.” Ye Fan, with the Ancient Bronze Coffin on his back, strode forward in great steps, truly intending to walk inside.

Everyone was startled. They had assumed he would settle things outside the Ji Family gates. No one had expected he would actually dare to go in. An ancient clan of primordial origin was essentially a forbidden land — once conflict erupted there, there was no way out alive.

The Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family’s expression momentarily stalled. He had been planning to mock Ye Fan for cowardice, but now found the words impossible to utter. His opponent showed no fear whatsoever and was walking straight toward him.

“This way, please.” An elderly Ji Family cultivator led the way, and soon everyone proceeded deeper into this ancient clan’s grounds. The atmosphere along the path was heavy and oppressive. Those who had come were all formidable experts — representatives of every major power.

“Ye Fan, what is the meaning of this?! Arriving with an ancient coffin on your back and bringing it to a sacred ground like this — it is a show of disrespect to the Ji Clan!” Someone from the Wang Family spoke up. They had not even entered yet; the provocation began halfway along the path.

Ye Fan paid him no attention whatsoever, ignoring him completely, walking forward together with Pang Bo, Li Heishui, and the others, treating him as if he were thin air.

“Sacred Physique! I am speaking to you! Do you hear me?!” The young man was not particularly old — he was Wang Teng’s cousin, and he had a fiery temper.

“Who do you think you are? Get lost, as far away from me as possible.” Ye Fan cast him a single glance, as if looking at a fly, furrowing his brow slightly.

“You—!” The young man erupted in fury. Ye Fan had razed their stone workshops in the Northern Region, and the entire Wang Family bore that grudge. Of course he was outraged now.

“Is this a place where you get to speak? Even the Ji Family elders haven’t said much — who do you think you are? Get lost!” Ye Fan uttered a quiet reprimand, and the man stumbled, feeling his skull buzzing and humming, nearly crashing headfirst to the ground.

Ye Fan’s aura was overwhelming. One quiet reprimand sent the young generation of the Wang Family staggering, shocking a great many onlookers.

“Young Friend Ye, this old one also wishes to ask — why have you come carrying a coffin to our Ji Family’s gate?” The Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family spoke, his expression deeply unfriendly, his manner clearly suggesting he intended to make an issue of it. “You and I are both cultivators — do we still concern ourselves with such things? This coffin is my weapon, just like the sacred swords those people carry on their backs.” Ye Fan replied with indifference.

Before they had even entered the Ji Family hall, a tense atmosphere had already taken hold. The many cultivators who had come to watch the excitement were all eagerly anticipating what was to come — there would certainly be a battle today.

The Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family said nothing more, leading everyone forward on a path through the clouds, arriving at a place swathed in vaporous mists and rosy auroras, entering a grand and majestic celestial palace.

Many powerful figures had never left — among them the master of the Ji Family, the Scarlet Dragon Daoren, the Mysterious Ancestor of the Wang Family, and others. When a junior arrived, elders seldom went out to receive them, unless there was some other purpose. In addition, young talents such as Zi Tian Du, the Southern Demon, and Qi Huoshui also remained completely unruffled, still seated in the great hall.

When Ye Fan entered carrying the coffin on his back, he immediately drew everyone’s gaze — some filled with hostility, others revealing anxiety, and still others showing complete indifference.

Clang!

A crisp metallic ring rang out as Ye Fan set the ancient coffin down on the floor. The entire hall shuddered, nearly turning over. Had it not been reinforced with formation inscriptions, it would certainly have collapsed.

Everyone’s hearts lurched violently. How impossibly heavy was this bronze coffin? Among all of them, one person was most shaken of all — the Southern Demon. His pupils shot out two streaks of strange light, locking onto the ancient coffin with unwavering intensity.

This was Ye Fan’s first time visiting the Ji Family, and he had not been impolite. He offered respectful greetings to several elders, then also paid his respects to the Scarlet Dragon old Daoist and other acquaintances.

“You are the Sacred Physique, Ye Fan?” An elderly cultivator rose to his feet, fixing his gaze firmly on him.

Pang Bo sent a quiet reminder: this was Wang Teng’s paternal uncle, a man of formidable power who held great authority within the Northern Plains Wang Family. He now stood on the steps, his face dark and sullen, staring down imperiously.

“What is it you want?” Ye Fan asked with cold indifference.

“You killed my clan-brother Wang Chengfeng, you cut down my nephew Wang Chong, and then in the Northern Region you razed our clan’s stone workshops. Do you need me to explain what I want from you?!” Wang Chengyun’s gaze was venomous, his voice a thunderous accusation.

“I’d say you’ve eaten too well and have nothing better to do,” Ye Fan replied with simple, clean directness, then selected a seat at a table and sat himself down without a care.

Wang Chengyun’s fury exploded. His face darkened instantly, and he bore down on Ye Fan in great strides, his power surging like a raging flood, arriving before him like an incarnation of the god of slaughter.

On the other side, Wu Dao, the Fifth of the Great Bandits, stood up. He had been invited by Li Heishui and Wu Zhongtian, and he now moved to block Wang Chengyun, fearing something might happen to Ye Fan.

“What — are you thinking of starting a fight?” Ye Fan returned Wu Dao’s courtesy, then squinted sideways at Wang Chengyun. “This is the Ji Family. It does not accommodate your insolence.”

He loudly rebuked someone who was an elder in terms of seniority and power, without a trace of concern — let alone any sign of fear. This tone of voice left many people astonished.

Wang Chengyun’s expression turned ice cold. This had never happened to him before — a junior daring to berate him like this. It was utterly unprecedented, as if the sun had risen in the west.

“You killed members of my clan, and yet you have the audacity to appear in this place — you are cutting off your own path to survival!” Wang Chengyun’s eyes blazed with an eerie, penetrating light.

“As for the conflict between us, I have nothing much to say. All I can say is that the people of your Wang Family brought it upon themselves — every one of them was looking for death!” Ye Fan showed not the slightest courtesy.

The Ji Family intervened to block them, genuinely worried that the two sides might come to blows here. After all, both were guests. An open brawl within these walls would be unseemly — as the hosts, they would lose face.

“You killed my own younger brother, and you still dare come here today — that is provocation. I request that the Ji Family’s Holy Master provide us a place to settle this dispute,” Wang Teng’s father also rose to his feet and strode over in large steps.

“Tell Wang Teng to come out.” Ye Fan spoke. He had come this day for the Northern Emperor himself. Kill him, and everything would be resolved.

The Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family’s expression showed nothing, walking over. “What have you come here for? Have you come to kill someone within my Ji Family’s walls?” He dismissed the Wang Family’s provocation, instead placing a hat directly on Ye Fan’s head. “Though our forefather has passed from this world, the sacred cultivation ground of the great emperor of former ages must not be desecrated. Any who dare give offense will find no living soul spared beneath the Ancient Void Mirror!”

Who would not fear such a threat? Everyone knew that within this ancient ground, the sacred light of the Void Mirror could descend at any moment, and none could resist it.

“I have come to see Ziyue. The Wang Family’s provocation came first — what I said was merely a response.” Ye Fan spoke with composure, resting a hand on the bronze coffin.

“Ziyue is nearly engaged to be married. Your wanting to see her is a great impropriety.” Wang Chengkun spoke, his expression glacial. She was to be his Wang Family’s future daughter-in-law, and he was deeply displeased.

“I sincerely ask the Ji Family’s Holy Master to allow me one meeting with Ziyue.” Ye Fan said earnestly.

The Eight Ancestor of the Ji Family gave a cold laugh and was just about to say something when he was stopped. The Ji Family’s Holy Master walked over and instructed: “Have Ziyue come.”

A young Ji Family disciple looked at Ye Fan in surprise, then quickly departed, flying toward a distant cluster of magnificent jade towers.

Everyone in the hall stirred. No one had expected the Ji Family’s Holy Master to agree. It was somewhat unexpected, and all fell into silent contemplation.

“Have Teng come out of seclusion — tell him to come quickly,” Wang Chengkun transmitted, instructing a disciple.

Before long, a purple-clad young woman came flying from the distant sky like a celestial exile — her raven hair flowing like dark clouds, her delicate face radiant as fine jade, her large eyes luminously pure, shimmering with spiritual brilliance within.

Yet today, Ji Ziyue wore no smile. Her little dimples were nowhere to be seen; the playfulness that normally defined her was absent, and her bright little fangs were hidden from view.

“Ziyue!” Ye Fan, still carrying the bronze coffin, went forward to meet her.

“Little Ye!” Ji Ziyue’s small mouth formed a perfect “O” shape. She looked at him, then at the ancient coffin, too startled to speak.

“I heard someone is trying to force you into an engagement. I have come to rid you of this trouble.”

Upon hearing these words, Ji Ziyue’s large eyes instantly curved into crescent moons, her little dimples appeared, and a captivating smile bloomed across her face — her teeth gleaming white as polished jade, shimmering with radiance.

Ye Fan continued: “As long as you shake your head and refuse, I will take you away today. No one will be able to stop me.”

The moment these words fell, the entire hall erupted. Everyone was stunned. No one had imagined he would dare say something like this.

Rumble, rumble, rumble!

In the distance, a golden ancient war chariot rang out with thunderous resonance, blazing with ten thousand zhang of radiance. A towering and magnificent figure stood upon it, descending like the Celestial Emperor himself — his black hair flying wild, dragons and phoenixes chorusing above his head, with sacred light cascading down.

The Northern Emperor appeared, driving his immortal war chariot forward with overwhelming dominance, his divine and sacred light rolling forth in waves that blanketed the heavens and earth.

“Sacred Physique — have you come here to die?” Wang Teng’s cold voice rang out, reverberating across hundreds of li.

Ye Fan did not look at him. Instead, he gazed at Ji Ziyue’s beautiful face. “Ziyue, do you agree?”

“Of course I don’t agree!” Ji Ziyue called out loudly. She turned a radiant smile on Ye Fan — brilliantly vivid and captivating beyond measure, so dazzling that even the sun overhead seemed to dim by comparison.

“Very well then. I will cut him down!” Ye Fan wheeled around abruptly, facing Wang Teng.