# Chapter 951: Returning to the Sealing Ceremony Site
Ye Fan stood on the Eight Ridge Mountains, gazing at the surrounding wilderness. He sighed inwardly—this was indeed an ancient Chinese dragon mountain, where even the legendary Red Pine Master of antiquity was buried here.
Eight mountain ridges stretched across the land like a group of dragons dancing, seeming ready to leap into the nine heavens—majestic, secluded, and wondrous. He took one last look before departing, soon returning to his home in City B.
His parents had passed away. With a calm heart, he realized he had few pursuits left in this life. Quieting his mind and focusing his thoughts, cultivation became his only goal.
In the past, attaining the Dao and becoming an immortal had not been his path. His arduous cultivation had merely been a means to return, to cross to this end of the starry sky. Now that his parents were gone, all his efforts had come to nothing.
Ye Fan began to contemplate where to go from here. Ultimately, his heart settled—becoming a Dao was his only choice. At this point, he had no other pursuits left in this life.
Immortality—no one in ancient or modern times could clearly explain it, whether it existed or not. Longevity was also illusory; to this day, there was no concrete evidence. Even the ancient Great Emperors had died. Yet now, this had become his pursuit.
"From now on, I will follow in the footsteps of the ancients, pursuing the path all the way, uncovering the secrets of antiquity, forging a new path for today. Attaining the Dao and becoming an immortal is the ultimate goal of this life."
He was not a sage with the world in his heart, nor did he wish to become a tyrant ruling over all living beings. He was merely a person of flesh and blood, with no ambition to purify the world, nor any remaining aspirations.
He only wanted to walk his own path, pursue his own goal—perhaps illusory, perhaps unattainable, perhaps non-existent—but he only wished to take one step at a time.
This was not decadence, nor self-exile. He was merely cultivating himself now. If someone blocked his path, he could be both divine and demonic, all in accordance with his heart at that moment.
Ye Fan read the Nanhua Scripture, observed the Yin Talisman Classic, perused the Wen Shi Classic, and chanted the Dong Xuan Scripture. These contained no cultivation methods; they were books that circulated in the world, yet they showed him different thoughts of the ancients.
At his level, on the verge of Severing the Dao, with one foot already inside, what he needed was not specific techniques but enlightenment at a certain realm.
These Daoist texts, passed down through the world, could be read by any mortal. They contained no detailed methods but offered great direction—worthy of being Dao treasures. Perhaps this too was a form of inheritance.
Ye Fan settled his heart and studied them, occasionally gaining insights, experiencing their profound breadth. Many ancient cultivation true scriptures could no longer be seen, but their true meaning continued to circulate, contained within these texts.
During this time, Ye Fan also began to seriously teach Little Pine, not raising his cultivation level but even suppressing it, making every step he took very steady, with a solid Dao foundation.
The little purple creature feared lightning and thunder—this seemed innate, otherwise he wouldn't have suffered greatly before, nearly being killed by someone.
To help him overcome this fear, Ye Fan was very strict with him, specifically taking him to a solitary island, personally teaching him by example.
Originally, the sky was clear for ten thousand miles, the blue sky flawless, without a single cloud. But in the next moment, vast oceans surged, monstrous waves towered to the heavens, and dark clouds rolled in.
Ye Fan summoned ten thousand zhang of lightning, using his own body to demonstrate the method, entering the thunderbolts to resist this terrible tribulation.
He didn't need to do this. If he truly wanted to summon an ocean of lightning, he could clear the sky and bring down thunderbolts, but he feared attracting others' attention and causing unnecessary trouble, so he brought in clouds as black as the bottom of a pot.
"Boom, rumble"
Lightning flashed and thunder roared, rain poured down in torrents—the scene was terrifying. Ye Fan bathed in the electric light, all silver serpents interweaving on his body. Little Pine watched from afar in terror.
But soon, Ye Fan caught him and brought him into the sea of lightning, making him confront the dancing silver serpents with his true body. This was a torment for him—fear greater than physical injury.
He cried out mournfully, constantly calling for Ye Fan, but this time he received no protection and had to face it alone. This was a terrifying journey of the heart.
Once, twice... dozens, hundreds of times!
Little Pine was struck until his skin split and flesh opened, fainting many times, his heart filled with terror. But each time, Ye Fan only calmly told him there was nothing to fear, telling him to get up.
After enduring the baptism of lightning tribulation, he went from fear to numbness. To avoid injury, he had to start resisting, struggling in the electric light, using his Dao to fight back.
He slowly changed, finally no longer afraid, gradually calming down, able to face lightning tribulation with composure, completing a transformation of the heart.
"Our lineage fears heavenly tribulation the least. There's no need to be afraid. You will encounter it in the future, and each time will be a good opportunity to temper the body."
Ye Fan used his golden sacred blood to baptize Little Pine's flesh and bones, greatly changing his constitution, but offered no help at all with his Dao cultivation or cultivation level.
This training session thus ended. Little Pine finally breathed a sigh of relief, looking at him pitifully. Ye Fan patted his head and brought him back to City B.
Now that he had returned to this world, he naturally wouldn't forget the matter of the Nine Dragons Coffin. Everything had begun at Mount Tai. He wanted to investigate thoroughly, to examine the large and small Five-Colored Altars.
But he heard from Xu Qiong that this incident had caused a huge sensation back then. No one knew how many military forces had been deployed to seal off Mount Tai for over a year, preventing anyone from approaching.
At that time, pressure came from all sides. Many foreign institutions demanded entry into the Mount Tai area to participate in the investigation. It was said that dozens of Muslim elders had come, and the Roman Pope himself had traveled east with a large group of people.
Although many people claimed to have seen the Nine Dragons Coffin at Mount Tai back then, no related reports were ever published afterward. Even foreign media, known for their freedom of speech, didn't mention a single word.
The matter was widely discussed among the people, but major and minor news stations, radio, and media didn't say a word—completely cold treatment. After a long time, no one paid attention anymore.
Xu Qiong knew more because of her relationship with Yang Xiao. Many things had been excavated at Mount Tai, and for unknown reasons, many people had died at the time.
"Those things were collected by the state, but they amount to less than half of the total excavated."
Yang Xiao had been very young back then, just graduated a few years earlier, and had only touched the periphery. The events of over twenty years ago could no longer be verified, classified as top secret.
It was said that a large number of troops had been deployed, and under tight armed blockade, half of the cultural relics had still been lost. Many things had been excavated but had been plundered.
"The events back then... were truly strange." Even Yang Xiao, an atheist, showed uncertainty when mentioning the past.
He hadn't been qualified to ascend Mount Tai back then, didn't even know what had happened there. His mentor at the time had been an authoritative archaeologist who had personally experienced everything.
"My teacher said that what he saw back then was bizarre, as if all the ghosts and monsters from legends had appeared."
Unfortunately, that old professor had died of illness many years ago, and the truth could no longer be verified or understood from him personally.
The old professor had only mentioned one thing—he had seen a person with gray feathered wings flying from the west, landing on Mount Tai, almost ignoring the military presence.
That time, the archaeological community had suffered heavy losses. A batch of extremely important items had been excavated, including the cornerstone of the central main altar inscribed with mysterious heavenly script, all of which had been looted.
If not for an old Daoist priest, who could barely walk, being invited from one of the ancestral courts of Daoism to guard the site, little would have remained of what was excavated at Mount Tai. Keeping nearly half was already a blessing from heaven.
"These things will be of great use to me. I must recover them all in the future. It seems I have something to do again," Ye Fan muttered to himself.
He wanted to ask who that old Daoist was and where he was now. Yang Xiao shook his head; he didn't know much about these matters, only saying that the old Daoist seemed to be near death at the time and had passed away shortly after guarding Mount Tai.
Finally, his expression turned strange as he said, "My teacher told me back then that some medical research institutions tried to extend that old Daoist's life but failed. However, they unexpectedly discovered through examination that he... might have lived for over two thousand years."
Ye Fan's expression immediately stiffened upon hearing this. A person two thousand years old... was definitely an expert. He might have been a famous figure in Daoist history, having lived all the way to the Age of Dharma Decline—truly shocking.
Nowadays, Daoism had several ancestral courts. Dragon Tiger Mountain in Jiangxi was one, and White Cloud Temple in City B was also among them, famous throughout history.
Ye Fan was no stranger to White Cloud Temple. Although there were still Daoists there now, it had also become a famous scenic spot. He didn't believe there were still cultivators there.
With his ability to shrink the earth into an inch, he unfolded the Stride Art and soon arrived at this Daoist ancestral court. As soon as he approached, he shook his head. Located in a bustling urban area, with the red dust of the mundane world pressing in from all sides, how could there still be cultivators here?
He extended his powerful divine sense, sweeping over every inch of land, and was startled. Beneath White Cloud Temple, there were traces of purple dragon energy, connected to the earth veins.
Unfortunately, it was ultimately too thin. There was no longer a single person with Dao cultivation here. It seemed the people of this lineage had long since departed, leaving only ordinary disciples and the temple.
In ancient times, this place had been a Daoist ancestral court for a reason. City B was an ancient capital of six dynasties, with dragon veins underground. This place had earthly essence to nourish, aiding cultivation.
Now, heaven and earth were dry, spiritual energy scarce. The faint earthly essence couldn't even resist the rolling red dust energy. How could one speak of cultivation, how could one talk about practicing the Dao? It could only be abandoned.
Ye Fan traveled south on foot, seeking secluded places and visiting famous mountains and great rivers. He wanted to understand the current state of cultivators, but unfortunately, he encountered none.
Finally, he ascended Mount Tai again, returning to this place where the Nine Dragons Coffin had set sail.
No mountain was greater than this, no history more ancient than this!
Mount Tai was majestic and vast. In ancient times, it was regarded as the place where the sun first rose and all things developed, traceable back to the era of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors.
Ye Fan ascended to the summit, seeing all other mountains as small. At this place, he felt infinite emotion. Over twenty years had passed, and only he had returned alive.
He stood where the bronze coffin had once lain, silently sensing, then waved his hand to summon half a piece of jade from underground. There was nothing else—the state had excavated very thoroughly, leaving nothing behind.
Suddenly, he heard some whispered conversation. If not for being a cultivator with divine perception, he wouldn't have heard it at all.
In the distance, several extraordinary young people were discussing. They were somewhat different from ordinary people, possessing an otherworldly, detached temperament.
"The Scale Clan has actually produced a Heavenly Demon. In this Age of Dharma Decline, whether this is fortune or sorrow for them is somewhat hard to believe."
"Perhaps this clan truly can flourish. They might produce a figure comparable to the ancient sect masters. After all, various sects have ancient treasures and elixirs left behind. With painstaking cultivation, it's hard to say they won't shine brilliantly."
Ye Fan listened carefully, his heart stirred. He had finally found the current sects. These people had extraordinary origins, all being disciples of major Daoist sects, belonging to the Supreme Purity Sect and the Numinous Treasure Hall lineages.
"What does the Age of Dharma Decline matter? Have you forgotten? Over twenty years ago, right on this mountain, several battles between great supernatural power users occurred. Such people still exist."
"By the way, have you heard? Not long ago, a great supernatural power user appeared at Jiujiang and taught the Great Xia Sparrow branch clan a lesson."
These people had come to visit ancient sites. Ye Fan listened attentively and learned many things from their conversation.
"Thinking back to ancient times, how magnificent Mount Tai was, comparable to the peaks of Kunlun. Now it has all changed."
"Let's not talk about these things. Let's focus on our cultivation. The cultivators' assembly is about to begin. We can't miss it. It's said that great supernatural power users might descend, even people who have come out from Kunlun."