The yellow clay platform was rough and unadorned, yet the characters inscribed upon it were remarkably clear, imbued with the Dao traces of a quasi-emperor. The Old Crane and the Third Valley Master stood at a distance, trembling.

Ye Fan read carefully, taking in what had transpired afterward.

Oceans turned to mulberry fields. As a tribal chieftain of the primordial age, Rongcheng Shi had survived all the way to the Spring and Autumn period, and his cultivation had naturally grown ever more profound over time. At such a level, he had long since possessed an invincible bearing beneath the heavens — yet he had always been unable to attain the Dao, lacking the one crucial catalyst.

He set out alone, yet possessed only two map fragments on his person — far too few to safely approach the immortal ground. In that region, he had teetered between life and death nine times over, nearly perishing.

Afterward, having endured decades of hardship, when his allotted lifespan was nearly exhausted and his life was approaching its end, he stumbled by accident into a sacrificial ground within that forbidden zone — adding yet another calamity upon the one he already faced.

The hearts of the group were shaken. That was a quasi-emperor — invincible in his era beneath the heavens — yet he had nearly died. How treacherous could that path possibly be?

Rongcheng Shi had been trapped within that sacrificial ground for several months, his body withering away as though being ground down to nearly nothing, barely retaining a recognizable human form. He had broken free with great difficulty, yet did not give up, and chose still to press forward.

Yet for all his heaven-and-earth-penetrating abilities, that primordial birthplace of immortals remained perpetually out of reach, impossible to approach. Trapped in the forbidden zone, he struggled for eighty years.

That place was extraordinary. The markings interwoven from great Dao immortal traces could shatter all things. Even his quasi-emperor-level weapons were destroyed — survival itself was an agonizing struggle.

In the eighty-first year, just as the flame of his life was about to be extinguished and the last light was fading, an unexpected turn of fortune arrived: within that forbidden birthplace of immortals, he discovered a plant of the immortality elixir.

“What extraordinary fortune!” Even Ye Fan could only sigh with admiration.

Yet on reflection, it was not so strange. If the place was capable of birthing the hope of ascending to immortality, it was only natural that an immortality elixir might appear there as well.

“That place is… Kunlun!” the Old Crane cried out in shock.

Inside the yellow clay coffin, alongside the text, there was a carved illustration — extraordinarily detailed and precise, depicting a vast and magnificent single dragon vein.

This Kunlun dragon vein was identical to the central dragon-mountain that appeared when the nine ancient jade pieces were combined together — supremely vast and boundless.

On the ancient jade pieces map, it occupied the center, taking up fully one quarter of the entire territory — the most expansive of all.

It was nothing like the Kunlun of the present day.

According to the Kunlun depicted by the ancient inscription, what is visible as the Kunlun mountain range today is only a small trailing edge — a single corner of the whole — far removed from the full extent of the main body.

Rongcheng Shi obtained an immortality elixir at the Kunlun immortal ground, and at the same time happened to break free from the forbidden zone. A quasi-emperor had spent nearly a hundred years there, his life nearly consumed to nothing — and yet he had not truly set foot in the true heart of the place.

His spirit was somewhat dispirited. Upon returning, even his youngest disciple could not withstand the passage of time and had passed on more than a decade prior — leaving only himself alone in this world. In the end, he buried all his disciples and followers here.

The records inscribed on the yellow clay coffin end at this point.

“Judging by his final state of mind, he seems to have grown weary of this world and no longer wished to go on living. Yet why is there no body in this place?” the Grand Valley Master was puzzled.

Following the example of the Ninety-Nine Dragon-Mountains, he had fashioned a yellow clay coffin for himself and arranged his disciples and followers in burial around him. By all appearances, Rongcheng Shi had grown tired of the mortal world and had chosen to end his life.

Ye Fan looked carefully and, at the bottom of the yellow clay coffin, found what seemed to be traces of having merged with the Dao. Yet there was one significant discrepancy — where was the immortality elixir?

They searched every part of the place and found no trace of it whatsoever. The Ginseng Fruit Tree seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving not the smallest sign of its existence behind.

“Whether he consumed the immortality elixir or not — there is not a single record of it in the yellow clay coffin.”

“Whether he truly merged with the Dao — the traces at the bottom of the coffin are ambiguous, impossible to determine. His life or death is shrouded in mystery.”

After much discussion, they arrived at no definitive conclusion. Whether Rongcheng Shi was alive or dead remained impossible to determine.

What was clear was that Rongcheng Shi had expended considerable effort in cultivating the Ninety-Nine Dragon-Mountains, and had himself truly lain within the yellow clay coffin and inscribed all of these characters.

At that time, his spirit must have been weary and dejected, sorrowful, no longer wishing to remain alone in the world — otherwise none of this would have come to be. He must have quietly lain within the coffin, waiting for death to come.

Yet what transpired after that was unknown to the outside world.

“Kunlun… that thing is in Kunlun.” Ye Fan murmured to himself.

“The true Kunlun dragon vein is vast and towering — the ancestor of all mountains since time immemorial. Many regions within it are profoundly mysterious, utterly beyond the reach of human beings,” the Grand Valley Master said.

“Rise!”

With a great shout, Ye Fan heaved the yellow clay coffin — heavy as a mountain — and moved it to one side. Beneath it appeared two bone fragments, similar to those obtained from Chisongzi’s coffin.

He held them in his hands and examined them closely. Engraved upon them was indeed a terrain map — complex, magnificent, and wondrous, pointing the way toward the immortal ground.

“I now have five map fragments. With these I could enter Kunlun.” Of course, he would not recklessly take such a risk. Even a quasi-emperor had barely survived, teetering nine times between life and death. With his current cultivation level, he could at most use the maps to observe the terrain from a distance and make a preliminary survey — approaching closely was entirely out of the question, let alone extracting the hope of immortality.

“There is writing on the bottom of the coffin!” The Old Crane and the Third Valley Master, in this place where their limbs had gone limp under the pressure of the quasi-emperor’s presence — utterly unable to bear it — had been sitting on the ground. When Ye Fan lifted the yellow clay coffin, they could see clearly from their position.

“Perhaps the ninth bone fragment was not shattered.”

There was only this single line — a conjecture of Rongcheng Shi’s — yet in one stroke it left those who came after with boundless hope.

“Even a quasi-emperor could not enter. It seems the complete set of nine map fragments is essential — without them, there is not the slightest chance of success!”

Ye Fan took away the two bone fragments and moved the coffin back to its original position.

“This yellow clay coffin is a supreme treasure, yet ordinary people cannot activate it at all. Even simply carrying it along would be tremendously troublesome,” the Monkey said.

“Best not to covet it,” the Grand Valley Master said. “Rongcheng Shi and his disciples are buried here together — this was a final wish of his. If we were to take the yellow clay coffin away, it might bring down some unknown great catastrophe.”

They left the place, and only when they had walked out of the territory of the Ninety-Nine Dragon-Mountains did they let out a long breath of relief. What they had experienced just now was extraordinary — they had unexpectedly uncovered the secret of an ancient forbidden truth.

Though they now knew much, even more questions and mysteries had risen in their hearts. Who, in those ancient times, had driven the Ninety-Nine Dragon-Mountains from one ancient star to another?

This was a vast and immeasurably long river of time. Even the ancient great emperors, living a second lifetime, totaled no more than a few tens of thousands of years at most — no single individual could endure for so long.

Rongcheng Shi too had harbored doubts. According to his conjecture, there must be some terrifyingly ancient lineage — incomprehensibly old — that had persisted and endured all this while.

Yet that lineage, too, must have ultimately declined. Especially after the hope of immortality was destroyed, it fell rapidly from its heights.

For in the years that followed, that lineage had almost never appeared again. When the divine dynasty sent that thing to earth for restoration, had they been powerful enough, they would not have allowed the secret map to be lost here.

“Twenty-some thousand years ago… a divine dynasty?” Ye Fan murmured to himself. A flash of inspiration struck him, and in an instant his thoughts turned to the Feathered Ascension Divine Dynasty.

His heart beat rapidly. Could it be that the man his terrible adversary had called “big brother” in his childhood — after being chosen — had carried with him a heaven-defying mission, and had once come to the earth?

His heart trembled. The secret of the Ninety-Nine Ancient Dragon-Mountains — perhaps it could be connected to the Northern Dipper star domain.

“The Feathered Ascension Divine Dynasty… yes, in all likelihood, it truly was them.”

Ye Fan remembered it clearly: the reason the Feathered Ascension Divine Dynasty had taken that name was because it signified that the entire sect would ascend on feathered wings, to become immortals soaring through the heavens!

Yet they had failed. More than two hundred thousand years ago, they had been erased from the Central Province in one clean sweep by a single hand, ceasing to exist forever.

“Was it truly them?”

If it truly was, then much could be accounted for. It was precisely because they had been wiped out that the lineage finally collapsed entirely — and those who came here afterward could no longer preserve the ancient map.

“The timing fits as well.”

If the assumption held true, the Feathered Ascension Divine Dynasty must have been the last force of that ancient lineage — for otherwise, it would have been impossible for no one to have appeared across so many years.

At this thought, Ye Fan could not help but be deeply shaken. How supremely powerful the Feathered Ascension Divine Dynasty had once been — almost ruling all of the Central Province, supreme above the world, with no force that could match them.

Yet they were, across the boundless ages, the last and weakest manifestation of that ancient lineage. For no matter how one looked at it, they were incomparably inferior to the supreme and boundless majesty of those who had once driven the Ninety-Nine Dragon-Mountains from one ancient star to another across the vastness of creation.

“What kind of lineage could this possibly be?” Ye Fan murmured to himself. His heart surged and rolled like waves upon the sea. In the vast cosmos, across the boundless star-filled heavens, there lay far too many secrets.

It was difficult for anyone to believe that such a colossus had once existed — directing all of this, reigning above countless ancient stars — truly capable of making one’s hair stand on end.

Yet no matter how powerful a force, it cannot withstand the relentless passage of time. Across millions of years, even a lineage like a divine power has turned to ashes and smoke. In this world, perhaps only the ancient great emperors can face all things without fear, treading even the great Dao beneath their feet. And yet even they are invincible for only twenty thousand years — in the end, even they return to dust, and nothing endures forever.

“The Feathered Ascension Divine Dynasty…”

“The age of the great philosophers was a time of flourishing prosperity because people came from other ancient star domains.”

“Let me see what traces you all left behind in this place!”

Ye Fan’s resolve solidified. He would ascend to the immortal ground of Kunlun. The earth held many secrets, and having returned in this age of the Dharma’s decline, he had the rare opportunity to uncover them one by one.

“An earth immortal… who turned out to be a quasi-emperor.” The Third Valley Master was filled with endless feeling. In this world, in the end, there are no immortals.

“We who cultivate the Dao — after a lifetime of practice, what is it truly for?” The Old Crane’s words carried a note of desolation. If even a quasi-emperor could see no hope, if even the ancient great emperors could not become immortals and must in the end return to earth — then what was the point of it all?

And what of cultivators like themselves — minor figures who could not see even a glimmer of light? Enduring rigorous practice day after day, alone before a stone chamber and a dim lamp, forsaking the mortal world, closing themselves in seclusion. And in the end — would they not all become yellow earth the same?

This was truly the kind of thing that shook a person’s heart in the Dao, and could make one think: rather than this, why not live freely in the mortal world for one life — at least doing justice to one’s years and youth.

“We must still cultivate. Having set foot on this path, there is no turning back.” Ye Fan’s words were not loud, yet he used the voice of Dao-roar within them, drawing the two companions’ spirits back to themselves. Without that, the seeds of a ruined foundation in the Dao might well have been planted.

“Indeed. The paths that those who came before could not walk do not mean the road has ended. What need do we have to think so far ahead? We are but insignificant drops of water in the torrents of time — walking our own paths is all we need do. Matters such as those should be left to the great emperors of every generation.”

“Precisely. Our paths are still long, and hope still lives in our hearts. Great masters of divine arts, saints, great emperors — these are all goals worth striving toward.”

The two composed themselves and quickly restored their equilibrium.

Yet Ye Fan himself fell into a long silence. In this age of the Dharma’s decline, he desired nothing else — attaining the Dao and ascending to immortality was his sole goal. But where lay that path? Throughout all of ancient and modern history, not a single verified case of immortal ascension existed. Not even the faintest glimmer of hope could be seen.

They walked out of the uninhabited region sealed by the ancient formation, left Dragon and Tiger Mountain, and returned to the mortal world. Gazing out at the vast sea of mortal life spreading before them — where lay the path forward?

“I will attain the Dao. I will walk into the starry heavens. I will forge the immortal path that none before me could forge.” Ye Fan murmured to himself.

The gathering of cultivators was about to begin — the two Valley Masters had told Ye Fan of it. And no sooner had he returned to his lodgings in the north than he received a talisman letter from the presiding master of the Sacred Treasure sect as well, conveying the same news.

“Go, or not go?”

The Little Pine Squirrel immediately raised all four of its tiny paws and pricked up both small ears, indicating it very much wished to go. Ye Fan smiled and patted its head.

In truth, he himself wanted to go and see. Not only could he meet some of the renowned cultivators of the present age, but he could also enter the Pure Clarity sect — the site of the gathering was located there.

The Sacred Treasure sect, the Celestial Masters sect, and the Pure Clarity sect together form the Orthodox Unity Dao. All three venerate the Three Pure Ones, while the Pure Clarity sect was originally the first to pay reverence to the Primordial Heavenly Venerable.

“The sect that first venerated the Primordial Heavenly Venerable? I very much want to go and see what reason lies behind that.”

Suddenly, a talisman flickered and appeared before Ye Fan’s eyes — a divine talisman sent by the presiding master of the Sacred Treasure sect, informing him that someone wished to kill him.

“Well then… the one who wants to kill me has appeared.” He murmured softly to himself, a cold smile playing at the corners of his lips.