Chapter 486: The Director of Sanqi Orphanage, Old Man Qi! The Zhang Family

Sanqi Orphanage.

That was an indelible memory from Zhang Fan’s childhood; there he glimpsed the path to the Divine Demon Sacred Embryo and forged bonds with Luo Sen, Ji Suan, Chen Ji, Ge Shuangxiu, and Zhou Yi—his companions.

To Zhang Fan, that place was eerie and mysterious.

He had never known what secrets the orphanage concealed or why it existed—until he saw Zhang Tiansheng’s journal.

The orphanage was originally established by the Coffin Carriers’ Society, to study the Nine Methods and unravel the mysteries of immortal matter.

“The director of Sanqi Orphanage is one of the original members of the Coffin Carriers’ Society—Chang Qitian, Chang Laoqi,” An Wuyang said calmly.

“You even know this!?” Zhang Fan raised an eyebrow, looking at An Wuyang with unusual significance.

Chang Laoqi was an exceptionally peculiar figure among the nine original members of the Coffin Carriers’ Society.

His origins were mysterious; he appeared to have no sect or lineage.

In Zhang Tiansheng’s journal, he was called “The Law lies beyond the Mystery School, the Dao lies outside the Yellow Court”—yet he became the master of the Coffin Carriers’ most vital experimental site, guarding its most crucial assets; his status and power were evident.

According to Zhang Tiansheng’s estimation, Chang Laoqi’s strength among the nine could rank among the top three.

“Many years ago, Chu Chaoran wandered the world and adopted many orphans; Xia Weisheng was one of them, taken back to Zhenwu Mountain. An Wuyang was another—though at the time he was sent to Mount Zhongnan…”

Suddenly, Zhang Fan recalled a phrase Meng Qiwu had once told him.

He snapped his head up, staring at An Wuyang, a strange light flickering deep in his eyes.

“Could it be that you…”

“Precisely!” An Wuyang read Zhang Fan’s thoughts and nodded softly: “Back then, I was taken out of that orphanage by Master Chaoran.”

“Of course.”

Zhang Fan’s heart lurched; a flicker of astonishment surged in his eyes.

An Wuyang had come from Sanqi Orphanage—and even Master Chaoran had been there!?

“I was only five when Master Chaoran took me out. I stayed temporarily at Zhenwu Mountain for half a year before being sent to Mount Zhongnan,” An Wuyang murmured.

Zhang Fan fell silent. By age, An Wuyang seemed five or six years older than him.

In other words, when An Wuyang left Sanqi Orphanage, he should have just been born.

“Your buffs are piling up,” Zhang Fan glanced sideways, his expression laden with meaning.

Sub-Rat of the Twelve Zodiacs, heir of Mount Zhongnan—and now, a product of Sanqi Orphanage.

This draped An Wuyang in another layer of mystery.

Most crucially, being tied to Sanqi Orphanage meant An Wuyang was also connected to the Nine Methods—possessing at least one of the Nine Methods' characteristics, much like Luo Sen.

Thinking of this, Zhang Fan’s curiosity deepened.

“You…”

“I’ve searched for that orphanage over the years—but to no avail,” An Wuyang cut in, shifting the topic.

“Of course not. That orphanage is one of the Coffin Carriers’ most vital assets—how could you possibly find it?”

Zhang Fan added: “Even if you mobilized the power of Wuwei Sect.”

“The segment of [Life Root] you obtained isn’t complete—otherwise, its marvel wouldn’t be this limited.”

An Wuyang gazed at the potted plant on the table, its roots and vines growing denser by the moment—it still seemed to be transforming.

Zhang Fan remained silent. He knew well that this segment of Life Root had never been complete; likely, the cultivator known as [Jia Sheng Gui Si] had failed, and after his death, this incomplete Life Root had been repeatedly harvested and used by others.

“When I was at Sanqi Orphanage, I saw them use Life Roots to accelerate the maturation of internal elixirs,” An Wuyang suddenly said.

Zhang Fan’s gaze sharpened into a single thread.

Daoist internal elixirs are the product of perfected Life cultivation—essence condensed from highly concentrated life energy.

Life Root pertains to the mechanism of life and death, capable of infinitely expanding life’s upper limit.

Like this potted plant: after one night of catalysis, its roots and vines had already hardened like metal.

“I was young then, unaware of the depths—I only saw that root-like thing fuse completely with the person, then golden light erupted skyward, and a round, glowing orb rose…” An Wuyang sighed.

His eyes held a trace of obsession. The secrets of Daoist Life cultivation—how many had dreamed of such a realm? He had glimpsed its threshold, understood the mystery of heaven and earth’s creative force.

When that internal elixir formed, for “those people,” it was not merely the achievement of perfected Life cultivation—it was the revelation of the mystery of life and death.

“This thing can even accelerate the maturation of internal elixirs?” Zhang Fan mused.

The Nine Methods concern the secret of immortality—the highest alchemical arts—and even the immortal matter they leave behind possesses such power to interfere with heaven and earth’s creation!?

This detail was not recorded in Zhang Tiansheng’s writings.

“Actually… Life Root and Yuan Dust work best together,” An Wuyang suddenly said.

“Yuan Dust!?” Zhang Fan’s heart stirred.

He had seen that name in Zhang Tiansheng’s journal.

“It’s the immortal matter left behind by cultivators of [Da Fuli Soil]. The origin of life is but a handful of dust,” An Wuyang smiled lightly.

The smile carried a hint of mockery.

“Yuan Dust…”

Zhang Fan fell silent, suddenly recalling the strange dust that had emerged from Xu Xuanxiao’s body when he stormed the Xu family.

“If Life Root determines a being’s growth potential, then Yuan Dust determines its diversity.”

An Wuyang paused, then summarized in terms more accessible to modern thought.

Life Root infinitely expands life’s potential; Yuan Dust allows that potential to evolve in divergent ways.

“You mean…”

“For instance, here!”

An Wuyang raised his right hand, tapping his own forehead, then looked at Zhang Fan.

He had seen Zhang Fan’s terrifying spiritual platform radiance beneath the Yin Xu.

That power came from consuming and refining the innate mud pill from Tongluo Mountain.

An Wuyang’s meaning was clear: through Yuan Dust, an adept could also gain such power, undergoing transformations or evolutions unlike ordinary beings.

From this alone, Zhang Fan could roughly deduce the marvels of the legendary [Da Fuli Soil].

“If Life Root alone is this terrifying and hard to control, combining it with Yuan Dust must be even harder,” Zhang Fan mused, speaking gravely.

Unconsciously, they were beginning to trace the secrets of the Nine Methods, probing the mysteries of immortal matter, guided by the footsteps of those before them.

“You’re right,” An Wuyang nodded.

These two substances appear naturally compatible, yet in reality, they are nearly impossible to unify.

Consider this: if the life potential amplified by Life Root undergoes transformation via Yuan Dust, the explosive change would be unbearable for any living being.

No living being could control such explosive power or its transformations.

“Crack!”

At that moment, a sharp snapping sound echoed.

Zhang Fan and An Wuyang turned their heads simultaneously.

The roots and vines of the potted plant on the table split open—slowly, drops of crimson-green liquid dripped down, radiating a faint heat.

The young plant had simply been unable to withstand the Life Root’s transformation; its limitless amplified life force had exhausted its lifespan.

Had this been a cultivator, his path would have ended here.

“The risk is immense,” Zhang Fan murmured.

“Life Root alone is dangerous. Combined with Yuan Dust, the risk would be greater.”

“It’s like no one can ever cultivate both [Jia Sheng Gui Si] and [Da Fuli Soil] at once,” An Wuyang sighed.

The Nine Methods are supreme, touching upon the secret of immortality.