“Where is the herb-gatherer who first found the Source in the ancient cave?” Ye Fan asked.

Ancient records noted that a single Source site could typically yield several blocks of Source — sometimes even more. If he could locate that cave, there was no telling what else might be found.

Grandpa Jiang let out a long sigh. “After he returned to town and sold that Source to the Li Family, he disappeared less than a day later. Many people suspect the Li Family was unwilling to pay for it and did something cruel and unconscionable in the dark.”

Ye Fan understood at once. The Li Family had almost certainly silenced him. The Source was of extreme importance to cultivators — they would never permit him to go around talking about it.

“This is going to be somewhat troublesome…”

“Big Brother, what’s troublesome? Tingting will help you!” Little Tingting tilted her head, blinking her bright wide eyes, and said innocently.

Ye Fan smiled and gently tapped her little nose. “Tingting is such a good girl…”

After breakfast, Ye Fan left the little restaurant and circled the Li Family compound from a distance. Within, walls lay in charred ruins — more than thirty rooms had been burned to the ground.

Just then, a series of bestial roars came from beyond the town. Before long, dust billowed as a magnificent mount came charging into the small town. It resembled a horse in form but was covered in blue-green scales. It moved with extraordinary speed — and in the blink of an eye, it had arrived before the Li Family’s main gate.

“A Dragon Scale Horse!” Ye Fan’s heart gave a start. He knew of this rare beast. Covered in blue-green scales, horselike in form, possessed of tremendous strength, it could gallop many times faster than an ordinary horse and cover four or five thousand li in a single day without need for rest.

Ordinary mortals could scarcely possess such a beast. Even Bitter Sea realm cultivators would struggle greatly to subdue one — the Dragon Scale Horse was extraordinarily powerful. Most were tamed by Life Spring realm cultivators and bestowed upon junior disciples not yet capable of riding the divine rainbow of flight.

The Dragon Scale Horse gleamed blue-green with shimmering scales, tossing its head and swishing its tail, rearing back in a proud whinny — a truly magnificent creature. Seated in its saddle was a young man of roughly twenty-five or twenty-six years, his complexion pale and fair, his lips thin, his gaze carrying a cold and sinister edge.

The Li Family was immediately stirred. The main gate swung open. Someone cried out loudly and went running inside to deliver the news: “The young master has returned!”

Ye Fan’s heart relaxed somewhat. He judged that this Li Family cultivator was likely only a Bitter Sea realm cultivator — otherwise he would have ridden the divine rainbow of flight straight back rather than traveling by mount.

That Source — I’m claiming it.

Now was not the time to act. Before long, Ye Fan went deep into the mountains. This time, when he looked inward at the golden book within his Bitter Sea, he found the opening characters even more blurred than before — as though they truly would vanish entirely before long.

“Why is this happening…” Ye Fan had been turning the question over in his mind. He murmured to himself, “Fortunately, I have already fully comprehended the parts that have disappeared.”

Afterward, he continued reflecting on the Dao Scripture. Each reading brought him a different sense of understanding. After a long time he finally stopped and turned to tempering the “cauldron” above his Bitter Sea.

The nineteen “divine markings” fused into a single mass, resembling a lump of divine iron, brilliant and radiant. No matter how much Ye Fan hammered and forged it, it stubbornly refused to take the shape of a cauldron.

In the meantime, Ye Fan had attempted to cast a flying sword. Though it had not come to full completion, it had at least taken on the rough shape of a sword embryo. At that rate, with continued patient tempering, it would eventually succeed.

“Why is the cauldron so extraordinarily difficult to forge?”

Ye Fan smelted the golden sword embryo back down and began again, attempting to cast the cauldron. But attempt after attempt ended in failure. It would only condense into a lump — it simply would not take shape. He couldn’t even produce a rough form.

“At this rate, what year, what month, what day will I ever forge a cauldron filled with the resonance of the Dao? If I just waste my years for nothing, it will truly be like drawing water in a bamboo basket — all effort, no result.”

Tempering the cauldron not only required the mobilization of life essence but also demanded intense concentration of his divine sense. In the end, Ye Fan’s mind and spirit were exhausted, and he had no choice but to stop.

Above the Bitter Sea, the soybean-sized “lump of divine iron” radiated brilliant light — a hundred temperings, and still it would not take form.

“This lump of ‘divine iron’ is already something of a half-finished vessel. I wonder whether it could be used to command a weapon like the Azure Wood Seal.”

Ye Fan felt a faint pang of regret. He had no treasures of any kind — he had no way of knowing whether he could perform even a rudimentary object-commanding at this stage. Otherwise he would have dearly liked to test it. Then, his gaze fell upon the golden book shoved to the edge of the Bitter Sea by the green bronze, and his heart stirred. “Let me try commanding it.”

The soybean-sized “lump of divine iron” plunged swiftly into the Bitter Sea, and in an instant merged into the golden book. With a single impulse of Ye Fan’s intent, a blaze of golden light burst out from his body — like a bolt of lightning slicing across the sky.

The resplendent radiance swept outward. Several ancient trees and two great boulders did not stop it. Ye Fan walked forward and pushed lightly — a towering ancient tree immediately toppled over. The cut was perfectly smooth. When the golden light had passed, the massive tree had not stirred at all, yet it had already been severed clean through.

Ye Fan was genuinely astonished. Every one of the ancient trees was the same. As for the two great boulders — a gentle push, and each split in two instantly, having been sliced cleanly apart.

The golden book had flown out more than ten meters away, hanging in midair like a blazing golden sun. At another impulse of Ye Fan’s mind, a flash of golden light — and it instantly flew back, returning to his Bitter Sea.

“Truly razor-sharp…” Ye Fan was thoroughly astonished. He had only tried it out on a whim, never expecting that he would actually be able to project the golden book — and that its edge would be so devastatingly keen.

“This golden page doesn’t only record the Dao Scripture — can it actually be used as a weapon?” With this thought, he began attempting it again and again. Golden light flashed like a rainbow, streaking through the empty air like lightning in rapid succession.

Ye Fan found that the golden book could only be projected to a range of roughly ten meters or so. Beyond that distance, he could no longer maintain control.

“The Dao Scripture is one of the most mysterious ancient scriptures of the Eastern Desolation. This golden page must be something extraordinary. Now I have a weapon of my own — like a bolt of silk lightning. In battle, it will certainly be devastatingly sharp.” Ye Fan felt his confidence and footing growing.

“If even a single page is like this, then that piece of green bronze must be something even more fearsome — it should be a genuine weapon. I wonder what its power is like…” With this thought in mind, Ye Fan could no longer remain calm. He looked inward at his Bitter Sea, intent on commanding the green bronze.

But within the golden Bitter Sea, the piece of green bronze sat in perfect stillness and silence — fixed there like a mountain that could not be moved.

“I feel as though I am trying to push an entire mountain.” Ye Fan was drenched in sweat, completely spent. He could not budge the green bronze so much as a hair’s breadth. Above the center of the Bitter Sea, an atmosphere of primordial antiquity and the weight of countless ages pressed down — along with a vast and overwhelming pressure.

“No wonder it forced the Dao Scripture all the way to the edge. This piece of green bronze is far too mysterious and extraordinary. It is like facing a boundless sea and an ancient night sky filled with stars — infinite and immeasurable, its aura of power as overwhelming as heaven itself.”

The green bronze was clearly not whole — it resembled a fragment broken off from some larger object. If even a shard could be like this, one could only imagine the terror of whatever that complete object had once been.

“There is simply no way to estimate it — no way to fathom it.” Ye Fan’s heart was filled with awe. The more he thought about it, the more staggering it became. He murmured to himself, “What would the complete object even look like…”

At that moment, his eyes suddenly lit up. He had spotted the “Dao markings” on the green bronze — those traceries carried an ineffable resonance of the Dao that words could not describe.

“I cannot move the green bronze — but I can trace its ‘Dao markings’ first!”

The surface of the mysterious green bronze bore no “Dao markings” — but at its fractured edge they were densely packed, intricate beyond measure, profound and inscrutable beyond all comprehension. Yet they carried a sense of the Dao flowing naturally — of heaven, earth, and primordial chaos returning to oneness — that moved all who looked upon them profoundly.

Ye Fan had not yet reached the level required to deeply study “Dao markings.” What he intended to do was take the lump of “divine iron” that he could not forge into a “cauldron” and press it against the fractured edge of the green bronze, repeatedly tempering it there — tracing out all of those mysterious “Dao markings” within it.

“These dense, unfathomable Dao markings must have an extraordinary origin. It is very possible that they are the legendary kind of innate natural markings — wholly unique in all the world.”

After a brief rest, Ye Fan began smelting the “lump of divine iron,” melting it down and pressing it against the green bronze, hammering and forging it there repeatedly — just as a mortal blacksmith would work iron. Over and over he hammered it, imprinting the dense traceries of the markings deep within.

He refined and traced without cease, until at last a feeling arose — that this “lump of divine iron” seemed to have gradually acquired some ineffable quality. Yet when he focused his full attention, it seemed no different from before. No change could actually be detected, and the so-called Dao-resonance he had sensed did not appear to exist at all.

“Was it an illusion?” Ye Fan murmured to himself.

In the time that followed, he continued melting down the “lump of divine iron” and forging it again and again — tracing the Dao markings of the green bronze through a hundred rounds of refinement until it was thoroughly saturated with them.

“It seems somewhat more concentrated and refined than before. Whether it was an illusion or not, tracing the Dao markings of the green bronze can only bring benefit — there is no harm in it.”

At last, Ye Fan began the process of forging the “cauldron” once more, wanting to see whether the “lump of divine iron,” now impressed with the Dao markings, had truly undergone any change.

Above his Bitter Sea, the “lump of divine iron” continued to transform. Its sharp edges gradually grew rounder and smoother. Its radiance became more restrained — and it took on a sense of density and solidity.

In the end, although he still failed to produce even a rough cauldron form, Ye Fan felt genuinely invigorated. He had perceived a subtle difference. During the process of tempering the “lump of divine iron,” he had found a mysterious and wondrous feeling — a kind of harmony between his actions and something deeper.

“The Dao markings on the green bronze are truly mysterious. From this day forward, I must melt and trace them every day without fail. Successfully forging the ‘cauldron’ is only a matter of time.”