Shrouded Sky

Chapter 194 - One Glimpse of Beginningless And Dao Becomes Void

Ye Fan soared into the sky, scanning the horizon in all directions, but saw nothing. With lingering doubts, he flew away.

Over a month had passed, and the stone village remained unchanged. When Ye Fan returned, Wang Shu and Er Lengzi were overjoyed.

“Brother Ye, you’re finally back! I thought you’d left for good,” Wang Shu exclaimed.

“Where’ve you been, Brother Ye? How come you were gone so long?” Er Lengzi asked.

Having been isolated in the ancient mines, cut off from the world, Ye Fan was delighted to see them again. He smiled, “I said I’d come back, and I will. I’ll take you stone gambling soon to fulfill your dreams.”

When Zhang Wu heard the news, he hurried over, his aged face brimming with emotion. His voice trembled, “You’re back… thank heavens you’re back.”

For days, he’d been sighing, filled with sorrow and self-blame, muttering that he should’ve stopped Ye Fan. To him, a month gone meant Ye Fan had likely met the same fate as their ancestor a thousand years ago, trapped and dead in Purple Mountain.

“We must celebrate today!” Zhang Wu’s gloom lifted, his wrinkles smoothing out. “Er Lengzi, Wang Shu, go slaughter some sheep to welcome Little Brother Ye back.”

Ye Fan was equally elated. “Today’s worth celebrating. Let’s get drunk!”

Though everyone was joyful, only Ye Fan and Zhang Wu understood the significance of this moment. Bringing out the Celestial Source Tome could shake the Northern Region. In the near future, a Celestial Source Master might emerge.

When the crowd dispersed, Zhang Wu pulled Ye Fan into the courtyard, locked the gate, and, trembling with excitement, stammered, “You… really…”

A flash of silver light revealed the Celestial Source Tome in Ye Fan’s hand, its misty glow like a moon in a well or a dragon pearl in the sea, almost surreal.

“After countless hardships and near-death experiences, I finally brought the book out,” Ye Fan said.

“Good, good…” Zhang Wu’s hands shook as he poured Ye Fan tea, urging him to recount the journey.

Upon hearing of the Jade Pool Saintess’s death in Demon Mountain, he sighed deeply. “I never imagined such devotion from that Jade Pool fairy. Our Zhang Clan’s founder owed her greatly.”

Ye Fan’s tale left the old man reeling for a long time. Finally, he calmed, saying, “The Celestial Source Tome is back at last.”

His calloused fingers traced the silver book, emotions swirling, until he gradually steadied. Standing, he held the book solemnly before Ye Fan. “You risked life and limb for this book, facing countless trials. I know you need it.”

Pausing, he continued, “Though it’s our Zhang Clan’s ancestral treasure, without you, it would’ve been lost forever. Take it.”

Ye Fan didn’t demur. “I do need this book, but I only need to study it and memorize its contents. The treasure belongs to the Zhang Clan.”

Zhang Wu’s fingers trembled. After a long pause, he said, “I’m old, with no energy to study it. My descendants are unpromising, none gifted.”

He offered the book again. “Take it. If you no longer need it one day and see a worthy Zhang descendant, pass it to them.”

“No need for that. Once I’ve studied it, you can keep it,” Ye Fan replied with a smile.

“No, Brother Ye, listen,” Zhang Wu insisted. “Keep it safe for now. It’s safer with you. You cultivators live long. In the future, if you have time, pass it to a Zhang descendant.”

He revealed his fears. Not only did the clan lack a suitable heir, but the Northern Region was chaotic, with bandits rampant. He worried he couldn’t protect the book. His descendants were impulsive and ungifted, unable to cultivate effectively. If word leaked, calamity would follow.

“Right now, the Zhang Clan has no one capable. Keeping it invites annihilation. One day, when you deem a Zhang descendant worthy, pass it back.” He knelt.

“Alright, I swear solemnly to return the Celestial Source Tome to the Zhang Clan one day,” Ye Fan vowed earnestly.

Zhang Wu’s wrinkles vanished, his face beaming, as if a lifelong burden had lifted.

The evening feast was lavish, with bonfires flickering. The villagers sat outdoors, feasting on meat and wine. Beautiful girls danced by the fires, the air filled with the aroma of roasted meat and liquor. People toasted joyfully, the atmosphere warm and lively.

Suddenly, cries broke out, women and children scattering.

“What’s that thing? How’d it get into the village?”

“Stop it! Don’t let it run wild and hurt anyone!”

“Damn it, it grabbed two roasted sheep! Catch it!”

Astonishingly, a dozen strong lads couldn’t stop the black shadow, tumbling like gourds as it escaped.

“Looks like a black dog, great for a hot pot. I’ll catch it!” Er Lengzi dashed off.

Soon, he returned, bruised and muttering, “That blasted thing knocked me into a ditch.”

Ye Fan, alerted, said, “I’ll check.”

But by the time he reached the village edge, the shadow was gone.

“Er Lengzi, you love falling, but into a ditch?” Wang Shu teased. “See what it was?”

“No, it stole two sheep. Infuriating!” Er Lengzi fumed.

Ye Fan sensed something odd. No ordinary beast moved that fast, evading even his notice. “Could it be what followed me?” He recalled the sensation of being watched since leaving Purple Mountain. Reassuringly, the shadow hadn’t harmed anyone, likely not a malevolent creature.

In the following days, Ye Fan focused on cultivation and studying the Celestial Source Tome. He marveled at its profundity, a text rivaling sacred grounds’ ancient scriptures, its contents mysterious and wondrous. To him, its value was immeasurable, comparable to the Beginningless Scripture. Mastering it meant access to boundless sources.

In many eyes, this book equaled the Eastern Wilderness’s ancient scriptures, capable of locating divine sources and dragon veins, a priceless treasure. “A gem among gems!” Ye Fan believed that, with enough strength, he could trade it with sacred lands for a chance to view their scriptures.

Mastering the Celestial Source Tome was like owning an inexhaustible divine mine, its significance beyond measure. Comparing it, the silver book’s material matched the Dao Scripture’s golden pages, indestructible, crafted from unknown divine substances. As artifacts, both were of the same caliber, equally rare.

Content-wise, both were pinnacle works in their domains. The Dao Scripture was incomplete, covering only the Oceanic Wheel, while the Celestial Source Tome was whole. In some ways, its value surpassed the Dao Scripture’s Oceanic Wheel volume.

Ye Fan’s greatest gain from risking Purple Mountain was this book, its worth incalculable. For a month, he was engrossed, immersed in a wondrous state, studying it even while eating, aided by the Bodhi Seed, which boosted his comprehension of the book’s foundational source-identification techniques.

“I’ve grasped part of its principles. Time to test them,” he said, stepping out of the stone hut, basking in the soft, hopeful sunlight.

If others’ bodies were ponds, his was a reservoir, requiring vast sources to fill. Yet, his power was unmatched, dominating peers effortlessly. In later stages, as a great power, he could potentially face multiple sacred lords alone.

“The first Dao Palace realm needs five thousand kilos of source…” The number sobered him. Even in the Northern Region, ten thousand jin was beyond most small sects. “The second stage, ten times more, a fifty thousand kilos…” His mouth twitched, heart chilling. He forced himself not to think of the astronomical amounts beyond, lest his temples throb.

Such numbers daunted even sacred grounds. “Someone’s face will turn green in this world. I sure hope it’s not mine…”

That morning, after breakfast, Ye Fan called Wang Shu and Er Lengzi. “Let’s go stone gambling.”

“Really?!” Er Lengzi flipped in excitement. “I’ve dreamed of seeing it. Awesome!”

Wang Shu rubbed his hands gleefully. “Since my grandpa’s generation, our village declined. No one’s traveled far.”

Ye Fan smiled. “Today, I’ll fulfill your wish. If you behave, I’ll take you out more.”

“The Celestial City’s tens of thousands of miles away, too far. But the top stone gambling houses run by sacred lands are there,” Wang Shu said.

“A wandering Daoist said great powers, Middle Continent’s royalty, and Northern Region’s tycoons gather in the Celestial City, spending years in gambling houses,” Er Lengzi added. “He mentioned fairies cutting stones, saintesses appearing, and young heroes dueling. Brother Ye, with that sly grin, are you eyeing a divine maiden?”

Ye Fan quickly straightened his face. “What are you thinking? This is our first gamble, just a trial run.”

He sternly warned them not to speak carelessly at the destination. They had no concept of sacred grounds, treating them like kindly merchants, and loose talk could cause trouble.

“We get it. Those folks are like gods. We only gossip in the village,” they assured.

Flatrock City, six hundred miles from the stone village, was a bustling oasis city spanning hundreds of miles. Built from reddish-brown stones, it bore the weight of a thousand years, the region’s central hub.

Arriving mid-morning, Ye Fan, Wang Shu, and Er Lengzi found the city of thirty thousand lively, with bustling streets. The two villagers gawked, overwhelmed by the novelty.

“So many people…” Wang Shu marveled.

“First time seeing this many,” Er Lengzi echoed.

Ye Fan chuckled at their chatter. “Learn today, and I’ll take you to the Celestial City next.”

“Great! Brother Ye, master the rules, sweep the gambling houses, then conquer the Celestial City,” they cheered.

Inquiring locally, Ye Fan learned Flatrock had dozens of gambling houses, including branches of major sacred lands, sparking an idea. To avoid trouble, he skipped the Ji Clan and Radiant Light Sacred Ground’s branches.

The Celestial Source Tome contained a technique called [Heaven-Swapping Earth-Changing], which could alter landscapes and one’s appearance far beyond ordinary disguise techniques, transforming from within. Yet to master it, Ye Fan avoided those houses today.

“Jade Pool has a gambling house here?” he asked.

“Of course, one of the city’s most reputable and largest,” an elder replied.

“Thank you, sir.” Ye Fan clasped his fists, turning to Wang Shu and Er Lengzi. “To Jade Pool’s gambling house.”

“What, Brother Ye, really after a saintess?” they teased.

“Hush, no reckless talk!” he scolded.

“Relax, just between us,” they nodded.

Gambling houses typically spanned large areas, enclosed by high walls, filled with source stones. Jade Pool’s Immortal Stone Workshop, in Pingyan’s eastern district, was serene, surrounded by ancient trees and shade.

“Why’s it closed today?” Ye Fan noticed a crowd under the trees, murmuring.

“Heard a Jade Pool fairy’s in town. It’s closed this morning, reopening this afternoon,” someone said.

“Jade Pool fairies are renowned. Sacred grounds and ancient clans dream of marrying them, though few succeed. I’d love to see one,” another added.

“You can this afternoon, but drop those fantasies,” a third advised.

“Jade Pool fairies!” Wang Shu and Er Lengzi’s eyes sparkled, glancing at Ye Fan.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a lecher,” Ye Fan said, pondering. “We’ll come back this afternoon. Let’s try our luck elsewhere now.”

He chose a gambling house called “Super Lucky.”

“Stop.” At Super Lucky’s gate, Ye Fan’s trio was halted. The gatekeepers frowned at Wang Shu and Er Lengzi’s attire. “Source miners? Sell stones at the east gate. This is for gambling.”

“We’re here to gamble,” Ye Fan said, dressed like a miner from his time in the village.

“Got any source?” Several gatekeepers stepped out, skeptical. “Not just anyone can enter.”

Ye Fan showed a half-tael source stone. “Here.”

Laughter came from behind. “Half a tael? Daring to gamble with that? Country bumpkins who can’t afford a decent old-pit stone.”

“Who’s talking nonsense?” Wang Shu turned, annoyed.

A young man in green, fanning himself, approached with a disdainful servant. “Go back to mining. This isn’t your place.”

“It’s Young Master Liu from Sunset Clouds Sect. Please, come in!” Super Lucky’s staff fawned, bowing.

Young Master Liu said nothing, glancing at Ye Fan’s trio before entering. His servant sneered back, “Not convinced? Got source? Come in, I’ll play a few rounds. No source? Scram back to your mines. Stick to digging, not dreaming.”

“Damn you!” Er Lengzi fumed, scratching his head as they entered.

Every trade had its snobs, but Ye Fan ignored the gatekeepers. Wang Shu asked, “Pretty high threshold here, huh? Don’t they know customers are guests?”

“Sorry, we have rules. Not just anyone can waltz in,” the gatekeepers replied, arms crossed, their smiles gone after Liu’s entry.

“How much source to enter?” Er Lengzi growled.

“Our stones are top-grade old-pit sources. Without half a kilo, you don’t cross this gate,” they said disdainfully. “No source? Back to your mines.”

Ye Fan silently produced a half a kilo of source, flashing it before striding in.

Passing the gatehouse, Wang Shu said, “Wait and see. You’ll cry soon.”

“Yeah, watch the gambling god at work,” Er Lengzi huffed.

“Oh, you actually made it in,” Liu’s servant mocked ahead. “Half a kilo of source? Took three generations to scrape that up, huh? Not easy. Let’s play a few rounds, gamble with stakes. How about it?”