Chapter 939: Origins Beyond Imagination

This was not Sanskrit in the usual sense; it was extremely ancient. It seemed to be an archaic symbol, untraceable, the very prototype of Sanskrit.

Therefore, it was incredibly difficult to translate precisely. Yang Xiao had to ask a friend to specially commission an Indian Sanskrit authority to decipher it, and even then, only a rough translation could be obtained.

As a proto-Sanskrit script, it yielded several possible meanings because it diverged significantly from later forms of Sanskrit. A few characters held multiple interpretations, causing immense headaches.

"Complete Enlightenment" was one of the translations.

"Gate of Wisdom" was the second possible meaning.

"Sacred Object to Open the Grand Dao of Heaven and Earth" was the third, and most peculiar, interpretation, leaving one perplexed.

Ye Fan was lost in thought, astounded. This seemingly inconspicuous small stone Buddha appeared to have an extraordinary and unimaginable origin!

The first meaning, "Complete Enlightenment," clearly referred to a Buddha. Self-enlightenment, enlightening others, and complete enlightenment are the three stages. Ordinary people possess none of these; Bodhisattvas reach the second stage, self-awakening and teaching sentient beings. Only Buddhas achieve completeness, eradicating all ignorance, defilements, and afflictions.

The second meaning, "Gate of Wisdom," was a general statement, yet a line of commentary suggested it literally meant opening a gate, "presumably leading to Mount Meru."

This annotation was even more astonishing than the original translation. Ye Fan was moved, recalling how, after returning from the Tibetan region, he had momentarily sensed a vast fluctuation, no less powerful than Mount Meru itself.

From the Saha world to Mount Meru — this was a startling and deeply mysterious commentary. Could this small stone Buddha truly connect to a hidden place? It gave him much to ponder.

The third meaning — "Sacred Object to Open the Grand Dao of Heaven and Earth" — was highly esoteric and only a vague interpretation; even the translator was unsure and offered no further elaboration.

Ye Fan was perplexed; he hadn't imagined this little stone Buddha he brought back would be so mysterious. Why then was it abandoned in an uninhabited area, like a discarded item?

Yang Xiao looked at him strangely. Ordinary Sanskrit was one thing, but this ancient script was rarely seen even in India, appearing on only one or two national-treasure-level artifacts. She asked how he obtained it, adding a kind but cautious reminder that the state's regulation of cultural relics was extremely strict.

Ye Fan was helpless. Ever since he had given her a few small gifts that Yang Xiao estimated to be over two thousand years old, she likely assumed he was dealing in cultural relics.

Xu Qiong gave Ye Fan a mobile phone and saved her number on it for him. After so many years, holding such a communication device again, Ye Fan was lost in thought, feeling somewhat unaccustomed.

Life in the mortal world naturally required money; it was indispensable for everything. The items he possessed were simply too astonishing; revealing any one of them would cause immense trouble.

With no other option, he took out a mutton-fat jade bottle. After erasing its inherent dao patterns and divine properties and breaking it into dozens of pieces, he handed them to Xu Qiong, asking her to use her connections to help auction them off.

Although Xu Qiong was mentally prepared, she was still startled to see such a flawless spiritual jade, a true treasure, destroyed in this manner.

However, when she later entrusted them for auction, during the appraisal process, the old master appraised them, pounding his chest and stamping his feet in immense pain. He exclaimed that this was a sin, that such a treasure had been shattered, calling it an immeasurable loss to the jade industry and a crime.

Xu Qiong was numb to it. She had once seen Ye Fan burn a pile of even more mysterious treasures in a cemetery, a sight almost dreamlike! And the few ornaments she wore herself were even stranger; her flesh, blood, and bones felt as though they were being baptized daily.

Ye Fan set aside his sorrow to do what he ought to: visit the families of his former classmates. If they needed assistance, he would certainly intervene.

Half of his classmates had been buried on the ancient planet Yinghuo over twenty years ago; the others were lost in the Big Dipper starfield. After so many years, he was the only one who had returned alive.

Pity the hearts of parents worldwide. For white-haired parents to bury their black-haired children was an immense sorrow. Even after many years, some families had not emerged from the shadow. In that era, most families had only one child, and losing a child meant losing everything.

Ye Fan sighed softly. Tragedy had not been confined to his own family. Among the eleven families he found, several elderly individuals had already passed away.

Twenty-odd years had passed, and most of these elders were in their seventies or eighties. In today's era, with significant advancements in medicine, this could hardly be considered longevity. The reason was simply that a broken heart is difficult to heal.

While in the Big Dipper, Ye Fan and Liu Yunzhi were mortal enemies, but family matters were separate. Upon his return, he also visited the homes of Liu Yunzhi, Wang Yan, and Li Changqing. If they needed care, he would not stand idly by.

Most families had relatively decent material living conditions, with only a few experiencing some difficulties. What truly troubled them was the emotional wound within, especially as they reached old age.

However, Ye Fan could not help them with this. He could not resurrect the dead, nor could he bring back the few who were still alive. All he could do was secretly add spirit medicine to their food and drink to strengthen their bones, cleanse their bodies, and extend their lifespans, and then try to improve their living conditions.

But he wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Even if their lives were prolonged, they still felt no inner joy. Was this good or bad? "There are still a few who might return..." Ye Fan murmured to himself, then sighed softly.

The Five-Colored Altar was deep within the ancestral temple of the Feathered Divine Dynasty. Countless cultivators poured in, vying for the Green Cauldron, immortal scriptures, and other treasures, making it extremely perilous. At that time, even he couldn't be sure of returning. All he could do was strive and fight for it.

At that time, he and Pang Bo had not brought Zhang Wenchang and Liu Yiyi, wanting to ascertain the dangers first before making a decision, to avoid them sharing the risks.

Indeed, they had found Earth's coordinates in the ancestral temple and immediately handed them over to the Black Emperor and others, so they could eventually be given to Liu Yiyi and Zhang Wenchang to cross back to Earth.

"Perhaps, after many years, others will return..."

However, Ye Fan did not know that after he left, the Desolate appeared and destroyed the only divine formation leading to the altar.

Without that teleportation array, entering the Primordial Forbidden Zone and reaching the Five-Colored Altar by one's own power became virtually impossible; crossing the cosmos became a legend.

Why Pang Bo suddenly left remained a mystery to Ye Fan to this day. He never understood it, but he believed there must have been some irreversible reason.

The families of most of his classmates were found. He did everything he could, even astonishing the world by healing the critically ill and reversing their conditions to restore them to life.

When Ye Fan went to find Zhang Wenchang's family, he was filled with mixed emotions. He remembered Zhang Wenchang's melancholy on the other side of the starry sky: a man in his twenties whose appearance resembled a sixty or seventy-year-old elder, with poor aptitude, often bullied by his fellow disciples, and called a "half-crippled old man."

Eventually, he was even forced to open a small tavern to make a living, spending his days listless and soulless, silently enduring all insults.

In a fit of rage back then, Ye Fan killed many people and eventually sent Zhang Wenchang to Mount Taixuan, finally changing his fate.

However, he knew Zhang Wenchang was not truly happy; he remained melancholic, constantly missing his parents. He remembered another time, when Zhang Wenchang was drunk and cried heartbrokenly, sprawled on the table.

"When I left, my wife was already pregnant, and our child was about to be born. She needed me most, yet I disappeared and came here..."

Those sorrowful words still echoed in his ears. Ye Fan shook his head.

Twenty-odd years passed. Ye Fan met Zhang Wenchang's son, who bore a striking resemblance to his father. Ye Fan was momentarily dazed, wishing Zhang Wenchang were there to see the child he had yearned for day and night, now grown.

With a natural paternal connection, the young man was not very talkative but was sharp-minded. Upon seeing Ye Fan, he immediately called out his name.

"I've seen you before. Your photo was among my father's belongings. Is... is my father still alive?" he asked, shocked and eager for an answer.

Ye Fan nodded, feeling both happy for Zhang Wenchang and sad for him. His wife had truly loved him, given birth to his child, and had not abandoned his elderly parents.

"My stepfather is an orphan. My mother married him only to ensure a better life for me and to care for my grandparents."

Hearing this, Ye Fan felt a mix of emotions, relieved for Zhang Wenchang yet also a wave of sadness.

"My father disappeared, but I know my mother's feelings for him were always strong back then. She hasn't forgotten him all these years and sometimes stares blankly into space."

This world holds too many regrets; one cannot choose life anew. Zhang Wenchang had already left this world, and these things only brought regret and powerlessness.

"My stepfather is a good man, and he's good to my mother, my grandparents, and me. Our family is... relatively happy."

Zhang Yi shed tears but remained rational, not wailing or shouting. He repeatedly asked for every detail about his father's life in that other world.

When he heard Ye Fan describe his father's struggles, his tearful drunkenness, and his cries of missing his wife and child, feeling he had let them down, Zhang Yi wept, choking back sobs: "Although he didn't raise me, I don't blame him, because he couldn't control his own destiny; he didn't abandon us intentionally. In truth, I miss him very much, because my mother always said he was a truly good person. The fault lies only with the starry sky, only with fate."

Ye Fan patted his shoulder, saying nothing. All he could do was tell the truth.

"Are you an immortal? Can you take me to see him?" Zhang Yi asked hopefully.

Ye Fan shook his head, saying, "I can't even go back myself. I've said too much today. Your current life is good, and I shouldn't disturb your peace. In a moment, I will erase some of your memories. Happiness, peace, and contentment — I believe that's what your father would most wish to see."

"No, you can't do that!" a middle-aged woman walked over, agitated.

It was Zhang Wenchang's wife. Ye Fan looked up; he had already sensed her arrival and was not surprised.

"You have no right to erase our right to know! No matter what happens in the future, no matter the outcome, this is a precious memory in our hearts!" Zhang Wenchang's wife said tearfully.

Ye Fan had seen her several times back then and had even attended their wedding feast. In the blink of an eye, over twenty years had passed, and circumstances had changed irrevocably.

"Ye Fan, you and Wenchang were good friends. Can you truly be so heartless as to leave us ignorant, to wipe away everything completely? You must know, for us, these are such precious memories!" Zhang Wenchang's wife cried.

"Yes, these won't disrupt our lives. You can't cut off these memories," Zhang Yi said, stepping back and supporting his mother.

Ye Fan didn't know how he left. He walked silently the whole way. He hadn't erased the mother and son's memories. They were right; it would have been too heartless. They had a right to know.

As he left, he left behind some "small items" and two bottles of spirit medicine. He didn't know what else he could do.

The pleasant sound of a phone ringing broke the silence. It was Xu Qiong calling. Ye Fan pressed the answer button and brought the phone to his ear, instantly jolted awake. His face changed color as he said, "What? You mean Pang Bo, he..."