Chapter 468

The Zhang family of Longhu Mountain, a lineage of the Daoist sect, a divine family.

Eighty years ago, after the great Daoist calamity, this lineage vanished into silence; though it split into northern and southern branches, it never regained its former glory.

The heavens and earth are vast, the rivers surge and ebb; eighty years have passed, and no trace of Longhu Zhang’s disciples remains in the mortal world.

If the Pure Yang family is a legend,

then the Longhu Zhang family is a myth.

In the long span of ages, that lineage once held the reins of the Daoist sect, peerless under heaven.

“The Zhangs… he’s a Zhang of the Zhang family!?”

In the courtyard before the hall, all were stunned; countless incredulous gazes fell upon Zhang Fan, brimming with deep shock and doubt.

Especially the third-generation disciples of the Xu family: Xu Yinhao, Xu Yindeng, Xu Ziwu…

To these younger generations, Longhu Zhang was a true legend—only faint rumors survived, never seen in person.

“Zhang Fan…”

Xu Zhixia stared at Zhang Fan in astonishment, her beautiful eyes trembling, barely able to contain herself.

She had never once linked Zhang Fan’s surname “Zhang” to the Longhu Zhang family.

“He’s a disciple of Longhu Mountain!?”

Xu Yinhao and Xu Yindeng exchanged glances, their expressions turning grave.

No wonder such youth possesses such cultivation and such realm.

Across the boundless heavens and earth, only that lineage could produce such a true dragon.

At this moment, they felt more at ease, more certain, more utterly convinced than anyone else.

“Zhang…”

Far away, Xu Changshou’s lips moved slightly, feeling unbearably parched.

At this moment, he seemed to recognize Zhang Fan anew—this true master of the Fan Sect had such origins, descended from the Dao Ancestor’s lineage, unquestionably orthodox Daoist blood.

No wonder he could single-handedly drive back all rivals in Tongluo Mountain, slay Yu Xuanji, and even cause the former Tongluo Mountain demon king to reemerge and escape the great calamity.

Instantly, the courtyard erupted; countless thoughts surged through the crowd—curiosity, disbelief, shock… all manner of reactions.

Yet beneath all those stares, Zhang Fan remained utterly calm, his deep, dark eyes undisturbed by the slightest ripple.

“Even if heaven and earth overturned before him, he would not stir a single thought, unmoved and steadfast…”

“What an exceptional seed!”

Xu Jinchao gazed at Zhang Fan and could not help but sigh.

Undeniably, across the vast world, any sect that bore such a seed could look forward to great prosperity.

“Kid, are you truly a Zhang?” Xu Chengtian’s gaze sharpened.

In this age, such a status is far too sensitive.

“Young man, do you have nothing to defend yourself with?” Xu Jinchao said lightly.

“Defend myself? What’s there to defend?” Zhang Fan suddenly said.

“I am Zhang Fan, of the southern Zhang lineage of Longhu Mountain.”

At these words, the entire hall erupted.

Even hearing these words spoken directly by Zhang Fan still left everyone stunned.

For this young man was not merely a disciple of Longhu Mountain—he was the long-extinct southern Zhang lineage.

At this moment, Xu Chengtian, Xu Jinshi, and other elder Xu elders all changed expression.

The southern Zhang’s embers had not yet died—and now they appeared openly before the Xu ancestral shrine.

Xu Jinchao fell silent, turning to Xu Xuanxiao, who stood coldly beside Zhang Fan, expressionless.

This gesture seemed to say everything.

“Who is Zhang Tiansheng to you?” Xu Jinchao suddenly asked.

“He is my grandfather.”

“Wenjun’s grandson!?”

Zhang Fan’s voice was casual, yet the elders were all moved; their gazes toward him grew complex.

“Back then, the southern Zhang dabbled in forbidden arts and fell overnight—yet Zhang Tiansheng’s line alone survived. Truly an anomaly.” Xu Jinchao sighed.

“Dabbled in forbidden arts?” Zhang Fan’s gaze sharpened slightly: “Elder, is this an official verdict—or merely the Xu family’s stance?”

Xu Jinchao showed no expression, but his gaze toward Zhang Fan held a profound meaning.

“Young man, the grudges of the elders should not be laid upon you—but whose surname is it?”

“Your father carries blood on his hands; now he is a fugitive on the run, hunted by countless souls…”

“Your appearance here today is fate’s reckoning. Stay.”

At these words, Xu Zhixia’s face darkened with worry.

Xu Changshou’s expression sank; his heart churned like ants on a hot pan.

Zhang Fan said nothing in response.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Xu Jinchao said, watching Zhang Fan’s expression.

“Calamity is the elixir of immortality; even at the end of the road, a sliver of heavenly light still shines through.” Zhang Fan spoke softly but firmly.

“Elder, you know well…”

“The southern Zhang bloodline grows on calamity.”

“Good. Zhang Tiansheng has a grandson like you. If the southern Zhang does not perish, you alone can reign supreme in this world!”

Xu Jinchao’s eyes lit up; his praise rang like a sword’s soft chime, echoing through the courtyard.

Immediately, an invisible pressure, vast as a raging ocean, surged from all directions, crushing down upon Zhang Fan.

Boom… boom… boom…

At the same instant, Zhang Fan became a boat untethered on sea and river, tossed wildly by storm and wind, unable to steady himself.

He roared aloud, his third eye trembling, a brilliant light bursting skyward—a nascent soul shot upward.

Bang… bang… bang…

Under this crushing pressure, Zhang Fan’s nascent soul could no longer be contained; terrifying phenomena erupted like a dam breaking, like mountains collapsing.

Vast wastelands rose in calamity; the nascent soul suddenly opened the heavenly gate.

In a daze, every face changed; all looked up—the skyward nascent soul was so mysterious, so majestic…

Around it, black and white energies boiled, like blazing daylight, like endless night; divine and demonic figures stood side by side, peerless under heaven.

At this moment, they felt their own nascent souls sealed shut, as if sensing an unprecedented terror, imprisoned within, cut off from the light.

“This… what kind of nascent soul is this?”

“This is his true power… terrifying… terrifying…”

On the faces of Xu Yinhao and Xu Yindeng, all color had vanished; they could not even bear to look at that nascent soul.

Only now did they realize how terrifying that man truly was, how deeply he had hidden himself.

“Longhu Zhang has been in decline for eighty years—how could they still produce a disciple like this!?”

Not just them—all third-generation Xu disciples, even second-generation disciples like Xu Mingjing and Xu Mingcheng, were now silenced by the crushing pressure of that terrifying nascent soul.

Even those with the cultivation of the Zhai Shou realm found their inner light extinguished, as if plunged into endless night.

It was simply unimaginable that a human nascent soul could be cultivated to such a realm.

“The most monstrous of all—divine-demonic sacred embryo… You’ve truly mastered it, aside from Wang of the Great Spirit Sect.”

A flash of cold light passed through Xu Jinchao’s eyes; his invisible aura surged again.

“Enough!”