Chapter 421: An Miaoyi
Life’s journey, how many ups and downs, yesterday’s flowers bloom, today they wither—who can control it? Fireworks burst forth, fervent and passionate, then fragments scatter, the curtain falls in desolation.
A scene of splendor fades into cold silence, the gate deserted. Compared to a few days ago, Ye Fan’s residence could be described as utterly bleak.
The solitary courtyard was quiet, yellow leaves withering. Ye Fan coughed lightly, blood staining his white handkerchief a vivid, shocking red. He looked at the cold, empty courtyard and sighed.
Life’s ups and downs are like flowers blooming and falling—though there are times of brilliance, there are also days of dim decay. Everything is carried in the wind of the mortal world.
The Divine City remained unchanged, yet when Ye Fan appeared again, his feelings were vastly different.
A few days ago, almost everyone knew him, greeting him endlessly. To cope, he smiled until his face went numb. Now, reappearing, though still attracting attention, few approached him, their demeanor cold and indifferent.
When he turned, there were pointing fingers, murmurs, and cold remarks—all the facets of human life experienced in a single day.
“The Sacred Body is finished. Less than half a year of life left, ending in obscurity. Defeated by the heavens after more than ten thousand years, he still couldn’t create a miracle.”
“The Holy Sons can finally breathe a sigh of relief. This mountain pressing on their hearts will collapse on its own, the shadow gone.”
“The pearl of the Wind Clan need not worry anymore. She definitely won’t be betrothed to such a Sacred Body. Perhaps the Wind Clan should be glad—they’ve made no decisions or promises yet.”
“Breaking the curse, so what? In the end, he’s still going to die, heh heh.”
“What’s the use of his combat power dominating the younger generation? If the heavens won’t let him live, can he fight it? He can only wait for death.”
…
Some sympathized, others gloated, their expressions varied. There were words of regret, naturally also taunts, and kicks at someone already down.
Walking through the streets, Ye Fan felt all of this. He remained silent, not uttering a single word.
In the end, he returned to his residence. That day, he visited no one. He felt he needed some quiet to think things through carefully.
Late at night, in the cold, solitary courtyard, a few strands of starlight fell, dim and desolate.
Ye Fan began coughing blood again, staining his white robes a sorrowful red. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, gazed up at the starry sky, and stared blankly.
Suddenly, he sensed something unusual. Turning around, he saw a mischievous little creature peeking over the wall—it was the golden little being.
It had successfully crossed its tribulation and transformed into a golden little qilin, no bigger than a palm, adorably naive, with clear, big eyes.
“Cough…” Ye Fan coughed blood again.
The golden little qilin flew over, landing on the ground. Its body glowed, plump and waddling as it walked, cautiously approaching Ye Fan, then tugging at his pant leg.
“Troublesome little thing, not afraid of me anymore?” Ye Fan sat on a stone chair, looking down at it.
The golden little being gave him a big eye-roll, then spat out a wisp of seven-colored mist toward him. It quickly entered his body, turning into a warm, comforting force.
Ye Fan felt a surge of comfort, as if a spring breeze had blown through his life essence. His injuries eased somewhat, but in the end, it changed nothing.
“You really have a heart…”
Ye Fan hadn’t expected that, when no one else came to visit, on this cold night, the Divine Silkworm would come to see him. Though it had forgotten its past, its instincts remained, judging good and bad with simple intuition.
Ye Fan took out a small piece of Divine Source, all he had left, and offered it forward. The Divine Silkworm immediately became delighted, hugging it and gnawing on it with relish.
After finishing the Divine Source, it suddenly fell to the ground, its four little qilin legs twitching slightly, startling Ye Fan. But then the Divine Silkworm slyly opened one big eye, looking at him mischievously.
“Addicted to playing dead,” Ye Fan laughed.
The golden little being immediately jumped up, grumbling discontentedly. Ye Fan was surprised—this little thing was actually trying to cheer him up.
In that moment, he felt a wave of emotion, thinking of many things. Creatures as simple as this little being were sometimes far more lovable than complicated humans.
Ye Fan suddenly realized that he, with a heart as hard as iron, was feeling a bit sentimental. In the end, it was this little thing that came to see him on this cold, desolate night. He silently stroked the golden little being.
He wasn’t afraid of death, but he had regrets. He truly wanted to return to the other end of the starry sky, to see his parents, his family, and his friends in these final days of his life.
“Why is this troublesome Divine Silkworm here…” Li Heishui’s voice came.
“Swoosh”
The Divine Silkworm angrily waved its little paw and vanished in a flash, disappearing into the night sky.
Li Heishui and Tu Fei entered the courtyard. They had been gone for a few days, seeking help from the Thirteen Great Bandits for a solution, and had only just returned.
“Take the Qilin Seed. Though it won’t cure you, it will definitely extend your life for a while. Then we’ll slowly find a way,” they said.
Clearly, even the Thirteen Great Bandits had no solution. Ye Fan had already anticipated this outcome.
At dawn, Pang Bo returned, looking exhausted, with Black Emperor following behind. They had gone to the Demon Clan’s sacred ground.
“The Green Emperor’s heart might be able to restore you. I’ll find a way to get it,” Pang Bo said firmly.
The heart of the Demon Clan’s Great Emperor possessed boundless vitality, but its location was unknown. Pang Bo and Black Emperor had searched the Demon Clan’s sacred ground for a long time without finding any clues.
“Forget it. Injuries from the Dao can’t be healed by external things. Those great figures speculated that even a mature Immortal Pill would be useless,” Ye Fan shook his head, not letting Pang Bo take the risk.
“As long as there’s a glimmer of hope, we have to try. Even if I have to carve a bloody path, I’ll get you the Green Emperor’s heart,” Pang Bo said resolutely.
“Enough, none of you need to risk your lives. Let this emperor think it over carefully.” The big black dog paced around, then lay down in silence.
When Ye Fan appeared again on the streets of the Divine City and heard those murmurs again, he felt an unusual calm. Even cold remarks couldn’t stir him.
“Woof, human pet, what are you dawdling about?” The big black dog was never one to take things lying down. Hearing the cold words, it immediately darted over, raising its massive head and barking about taking human pets.
As they walked along, countless people were gnashing their teeth in anger at the big black dog, but they couldn’t act on it, only cursing inwardly.
“The Sacred Body is finished, and this dead dog is still so arrogant. When the time comes, we’ll skin it alive and eat its meat.”
“He doesn’t have much time left. He’s just taking a final look at this mortal world. In the end, he’s going to die.”
Black Emperor left, crossing the void. It said it would disappear for a few days and might find a way to save Ye Fan.
The Miaoyu Nunnery in the sunset was edged with a golden light, perched among the clouds. A layer of holy radiance flowed around it, ethereal and peaceful.
“Isn’t this our Sacred Body? I heard you’re unwell. Why aren’t you resting properly and instead coming here?” Wu Ziming, whom he hadn’t seen in days, walked with a group of people, a brilliantly bright smile on his face.
“Yeah, your health is important. You should go rest. Otherwise, hey, look at the sunset—beautiful as it is, it’s about to sink,” Li Chongtian said with squinting eyes and a laugh.
“If you don’t want to die, stay away from me,” Ye Fan glanced at them.
“A man about to die, and still so arrogant. Does he even have divine power anymore? I heard he coughs blood every day,” someone in the crowd muttered softly.
“Get out of my sight immediately, or don’t blame me for being ruthless.” Ye Fan stood with his hands behind his back, hovering in the air, staring at the dozen or so young men in front of the Miaoyu Nunnery.
Everyone’s heart skipped a beat. This was the minor-accomplished Sacred Body. Though his life was short and he coughed blood daily, after breaking the curse, the younger generation was all deeply wary of him.
“Bad luck. Let’s go,” Wu Ziming didn’t dare to hold his ground and turned to leave.
“He’s going to die anyway. No need to bother with him. We’ll just watch the heavens take him away,” someone muttered reluctantly as they left.
Ye Fan sneered, “Though I don’t have long to live, that doesn’t mean you can insult me. I gave you a chance, yet you still dare to speak disrespectfully.”
“Boom”
The void trembled. Ye Fan’s golden blood energy surged into the sky. He reached out a massive golden hand to grab them.
“You dare kill us in public?” someone shouted in fear. “Do you know who we are?”
“I hadn’t decided whether to kill you yet, but with that remark, I’ll send you on your way.” Ye Fan’s golden hand pressed down fiercely in the void.
“Smack”
The heavens and earth shook. The evening clouds were scattered, the sky hazy. Ye Fan’s golden hand covered all dozen or so people. As it descended, a spray of bloody mud splattered.
“Brother Ye, don’t misunderstand…” Only Wu Ziming and Li Chongtian escaped, terrified out of their wits, fleeing and shouting.
Ye Fan flipped his hand and struck again. The golden hand blotted out the sky. Though both were in the Four Extremes Secret Realm, they felt as if they were fighting a divine lord—utterly unable to resist.
“Puff”
Wu Ziming and Li Chongtian burst apart into a mist of blood. Though they were super-strong experts of the Four Extremes Secret Realm, Ye Fan easily obliterated them.
In the distance, everyone who saw this was utterly shocked. Though the Sacred Body was injured, his might remained undiminished, still unassailable.
The Sacred Body could not be insulted. A chill ran through everyone’s hearts. He was about to die and had no restraints—absolutely not to be provoked. This was the thought that arose in everyone’s mind.
Especially those who had spoken coldly were even more afraid, their legs going weak. Thinking of their past words, they felt deeply guilty, terrified that Ye Fan had heard and remembered.
Ye Fan glanced at the others, his white robes fluttering as he entered the Miaoyu Nunnery.
Inside one of the palaces, it was resplendent, with carved beams and painted rafters, immortal mist swirling, like the Guanghan Palace.
Ye Fan sat at a white jade table, calmly sipping tea, studying the peerless beauty across from him.
An Miaoyi was stunningly beautiful, her hair jet-black and glossy, her skin fairer than snow, her eyes lively, her lashes long, her lips sexy and vivid. She stood gracefully, breathtakingly beautiful, her curves astonishingly perfect.
“Little man, you’ve broken my heart,” she said, her voice like heavenly music, walking lightly over like a crystalline immortal flower swaying.
“I broke the curse, but I don’t have much time left. Do you want to kill me yourself?” Ye Fan smiled.
“I did say that if you failed, I’d be the first to kill you. But now that you’re like this, how could I bear it?” An Miaoyi smiled, sweet and moving, but there was a trace of unwillingness in her eyes.
“Who in this world can avoid death? Even the Great Emperors are no exception. I only regret not being able to return to my homeland,” Ye Fan sighed softly.
“You clearly broke the curse, so why can’t you change your fate?” An Miaoyi’s hair fell, her body crystalline, radiating a holy glow like a flawless goddess descending to the mortal world. “What are your plans?”
“I came to see you tonight, then I’ll bid farewell to the Divine King and leave the Divine City immediately,” Ye Fan said.
“At least you didn’t leave without a word.” An Miaoyi smiled, incredibly beautiful. “If I were to sink into the mortal world forever, what would you do?”
Ye Fan wanted to say something, but she placed her jade hand over his lips.
An Miaoyi laughed, stood up, her hair flying, and said, “Only if you can survive.”
Ye Fan said nothing, just quietly looked at this incomparably beautiful woman.
“I want you to live,” An Miaoyi turned, walked to the desk, and took out an ancient scroll. “Remember this mental technique.”
“What is this?”
“Over a thousand years ago, a disciple of Shakyamuni left it in the Miaoyu Nunnery.”
“What? A disciple of Shakyamuni?” Ye Fan shot to his feet.
“Stay tonight,” An Miaoyi said, walking over lightly.