Chapter 121: Elder Han

"This boy is actually this terrifying!"

On Spirit Ruin Cliff, an Elder looked toward Fang Yu, and a feeling of dread actually rose in his heart.

Regarding Fang Yu, he also knew a bit—someone who had walked out from the Desolate Ancient Holy Land as a mortal, like Ye Fan and Pang Bo, who, after entering the Desolate Ancient Holy Land, gained some fortuitous encounters and was valued by the Elders of the sect and taken in.

But just over a month ago, this Fang Yu suddenly vanished, seemingly returning to his own clan to temper himself.

And now this Fang Yu had reappeared, the power contained within him actually beyond even his ability to see through.

"What secret does his body actually hold? Could he truly be a disciple of some Desolate Ancient noble clan? The Fang clan—I truly have never heard of it. In the Eastern Wastes, the most famous are the Ji clan and the Jiang clan; I've never heard of any Fang clan."

One Elder after another cast their gaze toward Fang Yu, only to find they simply could not understand at all, their hearts greatly shaken.

Some Elders were so eager they wanted to test out Fang Yu's prowess, but this was not the time for a magical duel, because it was morning—the time for them to transmit the Dao and teach.

"These Elders still want to have a contest with me? Things are different now from before."

Fang Yu sat cross-legged; his perception was extremely keen—after all, he cultivated the Eternal Life method, cultivating his mind.

Regarding a cultivator's thoughts, he could perceive them very clearly.

The last time he came to the Spirit Ruin Grotto-Heaven, he had only the strength of a few Xuanhuang Stallions, and no one was his match.

But now, he possessed the strength of three hundred and twenty Xuanhuang Stallions; Elders of this level could no longer possibly be his opponents.

Fang Yu listened to each Elder's discourse on the Dao while tempering his own cultivation base. He could now divide his attention a hundredfold, so even with all these Elders lecturing together, he could still take it all in.

Not far away, there were little children who had just entered the sect, no more than eight or nine years old, listening in a fog, and in the end simply falling asleep right there.

There were also people in their thirties who still had not stepped onto the path of cultivation, their expressions extremely earnest, but no matter how they listened they could not enter the sect, their faces wearing a very troubled look.

Listening to the Elders lecture on the Dao also revealed the myriad states of all living beings.

After these Elders had lectured for half a shichen, each one stopped. One Law-Transmitting Elder after another opened their palms, and immediately dozens of beams of radiance descended, falling into the hands of the disciple listeners.

Those were small bottles, very smooth and clean; once opened, an immediately overwhelming fragrance came wafting out.

"This is the medicinal liquid to aid you in opening your Bitter Sea."

The Law-Transmitting Elder spoke one last sentence, then ascended into the air.

Most disciples received one bottle of Hundred Grass Liquid; as for Fang Yu and Pang Bo, each received ten bottles.

As for Ye Fan, not being much valued, he received one bottle of Hundred Grass Liquid.

Between immortal seedlings and ordinary disciples, there was clearly a gap.

Just then, a boy of fifteen or sixteen walked over, brazenly blocking Ye Fan's path, saying: "Lend me two bottles of Hundred Grass Liquid."

Having said that, he reached out and grabbed forward, not giving any chance to refuse.

"You dare to rob us of our Hundred Grass Liquid?"

Pang Bo immediately struck out; with just a push, he sent that boy flying back.

This fifteen-or-sixteen-year-old boy's face immediately darkened. "You dare to lay hands on me? Hand it over!"

He still had five or six bottles of Hundred Grass Liquid in his hand—seemingly just distributed by the Elders to other disciples—and had been seized by this boy.

Several more boys of fifteen or sixteen walked over, each with five or six bottles of Hundred Grass Liquid in hand, clearly snatched from others.

The surrounding disciples watching all showed fear on their faces, seeming to have been bullied like this many times before.

Fang Yu's gaze swept over. It seemed his past words of praise for the Spirit Ruin Grotto-Heaven had been spoken too early—in fact, every sect had its own internal grievances and its own scoundrels.

There, Pang Bo and Ye Fan faced off against these few boys. The boys were extremely arrogant, still spouting wild boasts.

"You actually dare to lay hands on me? I'll make sure you can't get out of bed for three months!"

What ferocious, wolf-like words—to actually want to make the two of them bedridden for three months.

The boys rushed forward in a swarm, but they could not tap into the divine power source of the Wheel of Life; cultivators were only a little stronger than ordinary people. But before Ye Fan and Pang Bo, who had eaten divine medicines and drunk divine springs, they were no different from a few mortals—simply not their opponents.

Those boys spouted wild boasts from their mouths, but their strength didn't even reach five thousand jin, not even the strength of one Xuanhuang Stallion. With one slap each from Pang Bo, they were all sent flying.

In the blink of an eye, the boys were all laid flat on the ground, and all the Hundred Grass Liquid was taken by Ye Fan and Pang Bo.

"You dare to hit me? Just you wait—don't leave here!"

The boy who had started the trouble had a swollen cheek, glaring viciously at Ye Fan and Pang Bo. He quickly scrambled to his feet and turned, running off into the distance.