After stepping in that pile, Duan De spun in place a full eighteen times in an outright rampage — gnashing his teeth, flailing his arms, the veins on his forehead bulging fit to burst.

He fixed Ye Fan with a murderous glare. “That dead dog — did it follow you in here?!”

Years ago, the Great Black Dog had been the one entity that had ever truly gotten the better of him. It had bellowed about taking him as its pet human, and every time their paths had crossed, Duan De had come away with nothing to show for it.

The Black Emperor was thoroughly shameless — when the advantage was his, he would bark and bite without mercy; the moment things turned against him, he would bolt at full speed, thinking nothing of using Ye Fan as a human shield.

The terrain of this area was complex. The ancient path wound deep and dim, lit only by the faint, dusty glow of old spirit pearls embedded in the walls.

“Based on my many years of experience,” the Old Blind Man said, deliberately poking at the exact wound he knew would sting, “you stepped in a pile from about ten-odd years ago.”

Duan De, who had barely managed to calm down, immediately leaped up again, hurling abuse at the Old Blind Man for being unconscionable — though he was forced to concede that the… evidence… had indeed been left there long, long ago.

Ye Fan explored the area carefully, his mind full of questions. Could it be that the Black Emperor had not returned at all and these were merely old remnants left behind?

“That dog — what’s its background?” Duan De pressed. “Don’t tell me it isn’t the same one that used to follow you around. I’d recognize its bone fragments even if it burned to ash. What was it doing here?”

“It came out from this place,” Ye Fan said. He had long harbored suspicions about the Great Black Dog’s origins, and now, seeing the traces of its presence here, those suspicions had only deepened into near-certainty.

“Don’t tell me it’s actually an ancient primordial being,” Duan De muttered. “I always knew there was something off about it — it’s definitely in that category.”

“Why not just assume it’s Wushi Emperor himself?” Ye Fan said with a grin.

The words hit Duan De like a bolt of lightning. He actually stopped to genuinely consider it, his expression cycling through shock and uncertainty.

“There might actually be something to that. I’ve seen formations it laid down — they did carry the profound mystery of an ancient emperor’s craft…” Duan De mused, growing more suspicious by the moment.

The Old Blind Man reached over and smacked him on the back of the head. “If Wushi Emperor really had that kind of personality, do you think he’d have the name he has? He’d be called ‘Shameless’ — not ‘Wushi.'”

“I just remembered,” Duan De said, straightening. “In one of the great tombs I excavated in the Eastern Wastelands, I dug up some jade slips. They recorded all sorts of strange and miscellaneous things.”

The jade slips had been disorganized and eclectic — more like unofficial histories than any orthodox record — touching on many figures of antiquity, including fragmentary glimpses of the ancient emperors.

One passage in particular was casual and offhand. It described how Wushi Emperor, magnificent beyond all ages and sovereign over the nine heavens and ten earths, revered as a deity — had also possessed a very human side. In his later years, he had come across a small stray dog on the verge of death and, using ancient arts, had saved it and taken it away.

“Good heavens.” Ye Fan could not stop himself — the exclamation slipped out, the first time since arriving in this world that he had said such a thing. His jaw very nearly hit the floor.

He had long suspected the Black Emperor’s connection to the Purple Mountain, its connection to Wushi — but never had he imagined it had once been a small stray dog. He’d assumed it was something like a divine celestial hound that had achieved spiritual awakening.

“Damn it. If I’d known back then that it was connected to the Purple Mountain, I would have forced it to reveal its true form long ago.” The chubby Duan De was equally dumbstruck. It had never once crossed his mind — that creature was a dog from over a hundred thousand years ago. A dog that had followed Wushi himself.

The Old Blind Man stood in equally stunned silence, murmuring, “It was the stray puppy Wushi Emperor took in during his later years? Inconceivable. And yet it shares the same age with us now — it has survived to the present day.”

One passage of unofficial history. One small, offhand detail. The Black Emperor’s origins were laid bare, and all three of them fell into a prolonged silence, turning the revelation over and over in their minds.

It went without saying that Wushi’s dog would know countless great secrets. It might even have read the Wushi Scripture itself. In effect, it was a living treasury of immortal lore.

How the Great Black Dog had survived for over a hundred thousand years — longer even than the ancient emperors — was no great mystery, once you thought it through.

Throughout all of history, divine source liquid, beyond what was naturally occurring, could only be refined by the ancient emperors themselves. It could be used to seal living beings, preserving them unchanged across hundreds of thousands of years.

And yet the ancient emperors could not seal themselves. Their own vitality and blood energy were simply too immense — capable of piercing through the heavens themselves — and divine source liquid had no effect on beings of such magnitude. Nothing in this world could suppress them.

With only a little reflection, it became clear: the Black Emperor had been sealed by Wushi himself, and had only emerged in recent times.

By now, there was nothing truly secret about the Black Emperor. Its origins could be deduced with ease — yet all three of them fell into a long silence of quiet amazement.

This was a dog that had lived for over a hundred thousand years. And most astonishingly of all — it had once walked beside the greatest emperor of the human race: Wushi.

“For a follower of Wushi, one ought to look upon it with reverence and awe,” Duan De said through gritted teeth. “But this dog — I want to stew it alive.”

“Has something really happened to the Black Emperor?” Ye Fan asked, his tone growing worried. “Has it truly not been in the Purple Mountain these past ten-odd years?”

“Based on my many years of experience,” the Old Blind Man replied, “it has returned. There is a… deposit… from about seven or eight years ago over there. Our tomb-raiding little thief nearly stepped in another pile of rotten luck.”

At this, Duan De jumped again.

Ahead, a small pool had formed from earth-milk seeping from the ground — no more than a few feet across, its milky liquid crystalline and luminous, its fragrance clean and pure. Scattered nearby were several strands of sleek black dog fur, left behind some years ago.

“It came back — it definitely isn’t dead. But it seems like it hasn’t moved in several years now. Where has it gone?” Ye Fan’s brows furrowed with unease.

They pressed on. Without the oppressive menace of an ancient being lurking about, the dangers within the mountain’s interior dropped sharply. Many passages now lay open and unobstructed.

Before long, they arrived at a secluded nook crowded with great boulders strewn about in all directions. Ye Fan started. “This place…”

He recognized formations left behind by the Source Heavenly Master — the remnants of where strange stones had been sealed. And quickly, he located it: a Creation Source Eye.

“A Creation Source Eye actually exists in this world?” Ye Fan stood motionless for a long time, unable to form a single word.

Between the scattered rocks was a dark hollow no larger than a human head, shaped like an eye socket, boring down into the earth’s depths. Occasionally, wisps of colored mist drifted upward, and anyone who breathed it in felt suffused with warmth and ease.

“What is a Creation Source Eye?” Duan De asked, his gaze burning with eagerness.

“It is a place of creation within the source veins. I cannot explain it precisely — the Source Heavenly Scripture contains only vague records of it. Somewhere it is mentioned that in the age before the Primordial Era, it could give birth to divine beings.” Ye Fan’s expression was grave.

“No way — something that extraordinary? Are you saying we’re about to strike it rich, having obtained a Creation Source Eye?!” Duan De burst into laughter.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. This Creation Source Eye has already dried up. Its essence has been completely absorbed.” Ye Fan’s words cut him flat.

“What?! By who? Don’t tell me — was it that dog?” The chubby man’s face collapsed on the spot.

Ye Fan studied it carefully, examining the Creation Source Eye in detail. At last, his expression darkened. “It was the Primordial Clan’s Heavenly Prince.”

“What — how could it be him?” Even the Old Blind Man could not remain composed. He had long kept a close eye on this impossibly gifted son of the Primordial Clan — the young man’s talent was simply too staggering. In a mere decade or so of cultivation, he had surpassed what others achieved in a thousand years.

Compared even to the ancient emperors themselves, he matched them stride for stride — and in some respects, exceeded them. Every member of the Primordial Clan declared him the offspring of a god, and rightly so.

“Years ago, the Source Heavenly Master removed a strange stone from the Purple Mountain and placed it in the Jade Pool. I later cut it open and found a divine egg within. This place carries that same aura.”

The three fell into silence. In the boundless years before the Primordial Era, the name of the Undying Celestial Emperor had resounded throughout heaven and earth. All ten thousand clans paid him reverence — he was the sole immortal divine being, the one before whom all knelt in worship.

His offspring would naturally be proclaimed a child of god.

No further thought was needed to understand: the Heavenly Prince possessed the most terrifying bloodline imaginable, and now he had absorbed the Creation Source Eye as well. The weight of that truth settled heavily on all of them.

“An ancient emperor’s own child — every single one has been an unparalleled figure of their age. Each ultimately stood only half a step from proving the Dao, possessing incomparable talent and bloodline power that could shake the heavens. Had they not been born in the same age as their imperial fathers, any one of them would have ascended to the very peak of heaven!” the Old Blind Man said.

He glanced at Ye Fan — his meaning unmistakable. Even the Great Accomplishment of the Sacred Physique had those who could rival it. The bloodlines of the ancient emperors were not confined to a single line — all of them had been placed in ages beyond their fathers, and every last one would shake the world.

The Heavenly Prince most of all. Now that he was known to have absorbed the Creation Source Eye, the prospect was more frightening still. In all likelihood, he would become a second Undying Celestial Emperor.

“The other ancient imperial bloodlines — the Void Phoenix Path, Huo Qizi — are no less unimaginable,” the Old Blind Man continued. “Their fathers almost certainly left behind similar gifts, comparable to the Creation Source Eye.”

He placed a hand on Ye Fan’s shoulder. “As a bearer of the Sacred Physique, born into this grand age — even at Great Accomplishment you will have rivals. None of those ancient imperial bloodlines are lambs. They are divine lions lying in wait.”

Ye Fan suddenly spoke up. “The ancient emperors of the Primordial Clan saw it clearly — so long as they remained in the world, their own children could never prove the Dao, for there is only one emperor under heaven. So they sealed their children away to be born into later ages. But did the great emperors of the human race never foresee this? Did they never think to leave a single, most powerful heir to be born into the future?”

“That… is hard to say.” The Old Blind Man shook his head.

“I know a few secrets about this,” Duan De said suddenly. “In ages past, there was an imperial son who emerged and fell in battle during a great dark upheaval — ending that chaos himself.”

“…” The three fell quiet, and none of them spoke further.

The Old Blind Man drew his divinations, Duan De assessed the feng shui, and Ye Fan traced the source veins. They advanced together, and no mishap arose. Along the way they came across several long-dead ancient beings — nothing more.

“Hum!”

Then, without warning, the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar began to ring of its own accord — without anyone driving it, its lid sealed itself against the body of the jar, and the whole vessel rose to hover above the three of them.

“What’s happening?” the Old Blind Man asked, alarmed.

This jar was unlike other Emperor-class weapons. It seemed to still possess a life of its own that surpassed ordinary understanding, and was considered one of the most terrifying Emperor-class weapons across all of antiquity.

“If any weapon could withstand the bell-wave of the Wushi Bell, this would be it,” Duan De said, scanning their surroundings carefully, searching for whatever anomaly had triggered it.

“It’s here…” Ye Fan recognized this place. He had been here before — in the past, he had hidden in this very spot to avoid a horde of terrifying ancient beings.

It was an open expanse — a great plaza, and also a fearsome stone hall. Examined closely, the suspended stone above them was shaped unmistakably like a colossal bell.

“The Wushi Bell!”

“It’s hidden within the stone — and it’s enormous. I’d love to see what it truly looks like.”

Duan De and the Old Blind Man were seized with dread. If they blundered inside by mistake, the bell might toll without end and obliterate everything within.

“Let’s go around it. Whatever you do — do not let the bell ring,” Duan De said. The Old Blind Man nodded in agreement. Only Ye Fan stood lost in thought, staring at it. The Wushi Bell was the most crucial objective of this entire venture.