The Rise of a Family: Starting from Daily Intelligence - Chapter 419 (Patreon)

Chapter 419: A Prodigy Falls, Lone Goose Shadow, Qingqiu Inheritance

When Fu Yongqi opened his eyes, he found himself standing on a strange wasteland. The sky was a weird purplish red, and the mountain silhouettes in the distance rose and fell like the spines of giant beasts.

He glanced instinctively to either side.

The four other Foundation Establishment clansmen who had been transmitted in with him were nowhere nearby. He tried a Communication Jade Slip, only to find it couldn’t connect at all. “Looks like I’ll have to rely on myself.”

He patted his storage pouch.

A flash of rosy light.

The terrain map of the Kunlun Minor World—replicated by Fu Changsheng—unfurled slowly in midair.

Five Foundation Establishment zones were marked on the map, each annotated with dense cinnabar notes.

“Sword Tomb Mountain.”

His gaze stopped on a mountain icon bearing a tiny sword. Looking up toward the northwest, he saw a peak like an upside-down longsword, its summit shrouded in a faint cyan mist. “Huh—what a coincidence?”

Before departure, the family head had warned the five of them: if they were transmitted near Sword Tomb Mountain, they must seek out the broken sword “Lone Goose Shadow.”

He put the jade slip away.

Fu Yongqi immediately stepped onto his flying sword and sped northwest. Two or three li was a blink.

At the foot of the mountain, sword qi coiled like dragons. Hundreds of broken swords were stabbed upside-down into the cliffs, the chains on their hilts clanging in the wind. Fu Yongqi looked up. Suspended at the nine-hundredth step was half a gigantic bronze sword; dark red blood-rust seeped from the cracks along its blade.

“Could that be the broken sword ‘Lone Goose Shadow’ the clan head mentioned?”

He was itching to try and had just lifted a foot when he suddenly sensed a ripple of spiritual power from behind a boulder to his right.

“Who’s there?” Fu Yongqi set his right hand on his hilt.

A brocaded youth stepped out from behind the boulder. A jewel-studded scabbard hung at his waist, and thunderclouds were stitched in gold at his cuffs. With a mocking curl at his lips, he slowly wiped his fingers with a silk kerchief.

“Lei Clan?” Fu Yongqi recognized the family crest on the other’s clothes. He cupped his fists. “I am Fu Yongqi of the Fu Clan. I wonder—”

“Hmph.”

Lei Yunming cut him off with a cold snort and ignored the rest. He flicked the kerchief; in midair it was shredded into confetti by invisible sword qi.

Fu Yongqi’s eyes narrowed.

To release sword qi outside one’s body at Foundation Establishment was already outstanding—but within three inches around Lei Yunming’s body, even the gravel on the ground trembled—signs that his sword intent was on the verge of perfection.

If he guessed right, this was probably the son of that Lei Clan prodigy on the sword path. Rumor had it the man was born with a sword seed and was but a step away from breaking into the Golden Core realm.

Add to that the Lei ancestor’s nephew, Zhou Xuanming, had inherited the Marquisate of Seven Commanderies; the Lei Clan’s meteoric rise was just around the corner.

No wonder Lei Yunming looked down his nose at others.

Fu Yongqi had no intention of clashing, and turned to look at Sword Tomb Mountain.

Seeing that Fu Yongqi also meant to climb the mountain, Lei Yunming snorted inwardly: “These nine hundred and ninety-nine steps were set by Lone Goose Shadow’s former master as a trial for the sword’s new master. Someone who hasn’t even cultivated sword intent dares dream of climbing Sword Tomb Mountain? Utter folly.”

Then another thought: Fu Yongqi was a dead man walking anyway. Let him dream a beautiful dream before he dies.

A flash of killing intent flickered through Lei Yunming’s eyes and vanished.

Just then, a scream tore down from the mountain path.

On the thirty-oddth step, a gray-robed cultivator attempting the climb suddenly erupted with dozens of blood jets all over his body; with a scream, he tumbled down like a rag doll.

Thud!

He rolled to a stop at Lei Yunming’s feet. Though still breathing, his magic power was completely drained. He looked up at Lei Yunming and Fu Yongqi with wary eyes.

Lei Yunming sneered. “The seventh.”

As he spoke—

Hum!

A sword cry rang from within him, and a blood-colored longsword howled out.

The gray-robed cultivator’s pupils shrank. “What are you doing? I’m from a seventh-rank—”

“Noisy!”

Before he could finish, Lei Yunming flicked two fingers. The blood-sword shot out at blinding speed and pierced straight through the man.

Terror flashed in the gray-robed man’s eyes.

He looked toward Fu Yongqi, pleading for help.

Fu Yongqi’s pupils tightened.

He finally understood why Lei Yunming had hidden in the dark at first—he’d been waiting here for those who failed the climb. Fu Yongqi had never even seen this gray-robed fellow before, so of course he had no intention of helping. And since Lei Yunming dared kill in front of him, he must have many trump cards. Besides, Fu Yongqi already sensed Lei Yunming’s killing intent toward him; once the gray-robed man died, he would be next.

Without the slightest hesitation, Fu Yongqi’s figure blurred as he rode his sword away from the mountain.

“Hmph. Slipped away pretty fast.”

Lei Yunming snorted, lips moving.

With another miserable scream, in less than a few breaths, the gray-robed cultivator’s flesh and blood essence was devoured clean by the blood-colored sword.

Lei Yunming crooked a finger.

The sword burst out of the corpse, and the gray-robed cultivator crumbled to ash with a puff.

Lei Yunming’s gaze fell to the groove in the blood-sword’s hilt; his eyes lit up. “Finally topped it up.”

He sheathed the sword. The groove at the blood-sword’s hilt glowed with a demonic crimson. He glanced toward the direction Fu Yongqi had flown, hesitated a moment, then didn’t give chase. Someone else might show up at Sword Tomb Mountain any time.

Before leaving, his father had exhorted him again and again: whatever it takes, obtain Lone Goose Shadow. They said the sword’s former master was once a Nascent Soul True Monarch; whether that person had fallen or ascended was unknown. But a sword once wielded by a Nascent Soul, even broken, was still priceless. “Hmph. Count yourself lucky.”

With that, he leapt onto the first step. The sword qi around him automatically parted the pressure of the steps; he strode a hundred stairs as if on level ground.

Behind a boulder at the mountain’s base, Fu Yongqi held his breath and hid his presence. Pinched between his fingers was a Shadow-Recording Pearl; it faithfully recorded Lei Yunming’s blood-sword devouring the cultivator.

“Bloodfiend Soul-Devouring Sword.”

He stared at that blood-colored blade and remembered the clan head’s mention of the Lei Clan refining forbidden techniques in secret. “No wonder he wanted to kill me.”

Lei Yunming was already at the three-hundredth step.

The blood-sword hovered above his head, constantly drinking in the counterattacking sword qi of the steps. With each hundred steps, a blood-line lit up in the hilt groove, and Lei Yunming’s footing grew a little lighter.

Watching from the shadows, Fu Yongqi frowned. “What a pity.”

At this pace, Lone Goose Shadow would likely end up in Lei Yunming’s pocket.

There was no point staying. He should leave while Lei Yunming was occupied; with that Bloodfiend Soul-Devouring Sword, he wasn’t a match.

He had just turned to go when—

Hum!

A sudden change.

Lone Goose Shadow, suspended at the nine-hundredth step, quaked violently. Blood-rust flaked off the bronze blade in a shower, revealing the cold light beneath.

“Zheng—!”

A cyan sword qi spanned heaven and earth and chopped down. Lei Yunming hastily brought up his sword. At the instant the blood-blade struck the blue radiance, the blood-lines in the hilt groove burst one after another. Lei Yunming grunted; black blood seeped from his seven orifices.

“Impossible! How can this sword qi restrain Bloodfiend—”

Before the words fell, Lone Goose Shadow’s edge turned. The second sword qi became a skyful of cyan feathers drifting down. Every plume that touched the blood-sword sizzled like red-hot iron plunging into water.

To his horror, Lei Yunming found the Bloodfiend sword qi he had cultivated for years melting away like snow under blazing sun.

At the same time, a terrifying power erupted from within the Bloodfiend Soul-Devouring Sword. In the next instant, the spirit sword backlashed—swallowing his essence blood.

“Wha—”

How could this be?! That Bloodfiend Soul-Devouring Sword had been bestowed by his mother. From birth, she had treated him like a precious jewel—how could she give him a sword that bites its master?

“No—no! I can’t die!!”

He had just arranged a marriage with the Seventh Young Lady of the Seven Commanderies Prince’s manor; his father had prepared a Soul-Guiding Pill for him. If not for entering the Kunlun Minor World, he would have broken into the False Core realm ten years ago.

He reacted in a flash. Gritting his teeth, he severed the bond with the Bloodfiend Soul-Devouring Sword. But by then, more than half his essence blood was gone. In a panic he triggered a body-guarding talisman and tumbled down from the spirit mountain.

Thud!

Lei Yunming slammed hard into the ground. At the same time, a familiar voice sounded from above his head.

“Does Young Master Lei require assistance?”

A heartbeat later, Fu Yongqi descended from the sky.

Drained of magic power, a deep dread flickered in Lei Yunming’s eyes. He couldn’t care about his exalted identity now. He slapped himself and forced a smile. “Fellow Daoist Fu, I must have suffered qi deviation just now to speak to you like that. Your Fu and our Lei—on some level, we’re practically in-laws, are we not? Please be magnanimous and forgive me. I—”

Before he could finish, his body lifted into the air. Like a sack, he was flung onto Sword Tomb Mountain.

“No!!!”

Lei Yunming screamed his fury and despair. In the next instant his body was pierced by hundreds of strands of sword qi and burst into a rain of blood.

Fu Yongqi crooked his fingers.

Eight storage pouches floated up from the ground toward him. He swept a glance through Lei Yunming’s pouch and let out a quiet “huh.” With another gesture, an archaic sheepskin scroll appeared in his hand and slowly unfurled. Five bold characters leapt to the eye: “Ascending-the-Heavens Diagram of the Sword Tomb.”

“So that’s why—one must match the rhythm of the sword qi to climb.” Fu Yongqi compared the diagram, suddenly enlightened. “No wonder Lei Yunming’s ascent went so smoothly.”

He looked at the spirit mountain, then at the diagram in his hand. He bit his lip and decided to risk it.

Drawing a deep breath, he set his feet according to the diagram and began to climb in a specific cadence. When sword qi struck, he tuned his own sword intent to resonate with it. At three hundred steps the stairway turned to bare blades; he took off his boots and went up barefoot. At six hundred steps the phantasms swarmed; he bit the tip of his tongue to keep clear.

When he reached nine hundred steps, Lone Goose Shadow sang clear and high.

Fu Yongqi cut his palm and smeared blood into the blade’s cracks. The bronze sword slowly drank it in. As the fissures knit closed, a timeworn voice rang in his mind:

“Endure shame and refuse to contend, and you will behold the true self.

“Extirpate evil and guard the righteous, and you will attain the sword-heart.”

All the sword qi in the sky suddenly reversed course and poured into Fu Yongqi. Black filth oozed from his pores—Lone Goose Shadow was cleansing his marrow and cutting his hair! When he opened his eyes again, the giant bronze blade had become a three-foot azure edge, hovering quietly before him.

…

Yao Yao felt the world spin. When she opened her eyes again, she was in a vast ancient forest. Towering trees blotted out the sky; vines coiled like dragons; damp spiritual mist filled the air; distant demon-beast growls rumbled faintly.

“I’m alone?”

Yet with her many forays beyond the clan, she didn’t panic. She steadied quickly. Her spiritual sense swept out—silent and fine as a web, no weaker than that of a Purple Mansion peak cultivator.

“Hm? Nine-Leaf Soul-Consolidating Grass?”

Also called Condensing-Soul Jade Ganoderma, it was a top-grade third-rank spirit herb infused with pure demon power and soul-congealing force. It usually grew in extremely yin places—ancient tombs a thousand years old, where yin-sha veins crossed, or where a great demon had fallen and nourished the ground with its carcass. It needed a hundred years of moonlight to mature, one leaf per century, and only with all nine leaves would its medicinal power peak.

Taken, it greatly raised a demon cultivator’s success rate at charging the False Core realm; with certain Techniques, one could even form a “pseudo-core” in advance.

She hadn’t expected to be so lucky as to encounter such a treasure.

She slapped her spirit beast pouch. A flash of red—an instant later, her late-third-rank Four-Winged Scarlet Python soared up. With a light tap of her toes, Yao Yao landed on its back.

“Xiao Hong, northwest.”

“Chiu!”

The python gave an eager low hiss. Four wings spread like crimson clouds. They skimmed over a mountain of bones. A thick stink of blood surged up from the Sky-Eye Forest below.

“Xiao Hong, down.”

The python dove.

In the forest, the Nine-Leaf Soul-Consolidating Grass had rooted in a shallow pit piled with bones. The leaves gleamed like emerald, but the roots were coiled around a lynx cub—an Iron-Claw Lynx—with a faint thread of life still clinging to it.

“Soul-Gnawing Warg?!”

Yao Yao’s pupils shrank.

She hadn’t expected a peak third-rank Soul-Gnawing Warg to have claimed the grass.

The beast was wolf-like, with six eerie green eyes. At that moment it used its claws to split open another trembling cub’s skullcap; its long tongue lapped the brain fluid dripping onto the roots. With every sip, the grass’s leaves flashed with strange blood-lines.

“Aoo—!”

A keening roar split the trees. A blood-soaked Iron-Claw Lynx dropped from the canopy, its talons slashing at the Warg’s throat. Its eyes blazed red, burning the last of its life.

It was only initial third-rank. Its belly bore a rip from a previous fight. It had followed the scent of its cub and rushed here to the death.

“Roar!”

The Warg gave a mocking growl. All six green eyes flashed at once. Sickly green demonic fire rolled up around it.

“Soul-Eroding Ghostflame?”

Yao Yao’s eyes narrowed.

That flame could burn away the soul; a touch could drive one mad. Even she didn’t dare let it brush her.

Just when she thought the lynx would retreat—

“Miaow!”

The mother lynx ignored life and death, drenched in its own blood, the gash in its belly showing bone. With a cry of utmost agony, the power in its bloodline burned utterly in despair!

“Blood-Rage Frenzy!”

Its fur stood on end and burst into crimson flame. Its speed tripled.

With a rent—

It smashed straight through the Ghostflame and raked for the Warg’s throat. The Warg hadn’t imagined a dying beast could erupt with such power; it hastily raised a claw to block—

A sickening rip.

Flesh tore. Three furrows to the bone opened across its chest. Black blood sprayed.

“Roar!”

Shocked that a low-rank beast had wounded it, the Warg went berserk. Six eyes flashed together. Holding nothing back, it unleashed its strongest bloodline sorcery—“Six-Eyed Soul-Seizure!” Six green beams wove into a net to shred the mother’s soul.

Boom!

Caught in the net, the lynx staggered, blood seeping from its seven orifices—yet there was no retreat in its eyes. It stared fixedly at its cub entangled at the root of the grass and keened. The tatters of its bloodline power boiled once more.

“Lifeblood Forfeit!”

A forbidden Technique of the Iron-Claw Lynx, burning all essence blood for one final strike. In a blink the mother’s flesh withered to a husk; it became a crimson blur and struck the Warg at a speed beyond the limit.

Now the Warg panicked. It tried to retreat, but it was too late.

Boom—

Crimson shadow and green beams collided, bursting a blinding storm of spiritual light. The shockwave leveled the ancient trees around them.

Yao Yao’s python hissed. Four wings spread to block the aftershocks. When the dust cleared, the Warg had half its body torn off; five of its six eyes were blind. Howling, it staggered back.

And the mother—

She lay by her cub’s remains. Her withered paw stretched forward, as if to touch her child one last time, but her breath was a thread.

The Warg dragged itself away, black blood gushing from its wounds, still screeching sharply. It knew if it didn’t devour the grass now on the verge of metamorphosis, it would die today.

All this took long to tell; in truth, it happened in a heartbeat. Moved by the mother’s act, Yao Yao’s voice turned cold. “Xiao Hong—let’s end this cur!”

Her gaze frosted. Her fingertip tapped a formation plate. Seventy-two array flags flew from her sleeve like falling stars, and a Soul-Locking Grand Array snapped into place.

“Roar!”

The Warg reacted, pushing Ghostflame with all its might.

Sizzle—sizzle—sizzle!

The ghostly fire struck the array wall and vanished like stones in the sea, swallowed completely.

“Xiao Hong—do it!” Yao Yao called.

The Four-Winged Scarlet Python loosed a long hiss. Its tail lashed like red lightning and sent the Warg flying dozens of zhang. It scrambled up—only to see Yao Yao floating in the air, hands weaving seals, the array plate blazing with golden light—

“Heavenly Demon, Town the Soul—extinguish!”

The grand array slammed shut. Golden chains manifested from the void and bound the Warg tight. It thrashed wildly; its three remaining eyes fired off a final soul attack, but the array rebounded it. Howling, blood poured from its seven orifices. The python lunged, its jaws closing on the creature’s throat, fangs pumping lethal venom.

Crack—

The Warg’s neck snapped.

A dying groan, a few spasms—then silence.

Yao Yao strode to the blood-crimson Nine-Leaf Soul-Consolidating Grass. The cub ensnared by its roots still clung to a faint breath. She gathered spiritual power at her fingertip and gently cut the rootlets, then scooped the cub into her arms.

“Miaow.”

The dying mother raised its head with difficulty. In its clouded eyes shimmered a plea.

“Rest easy. I’ll take care of it,” Yao Yao said softly.

Her palm settled on the cub’s brow. Gentle green light flowed into its body. Wherever it went, gray-black miasma melted like snow; the cub’s dried fur slowly regained its sheen.

Seeing this, relief flickered in the mother’s eyes. A single crystal tear slid down its face, and it breathed its last.

Yao Yao’s fingers shifted and she was about to harvest the crimson grass when a vast pressure crashed down like the sky itself. The ancient forest fell dead silent; even the wind froze.

Her heart lurched. She snapped her head up—

A figure stood on the air. His purple robe snapped in the wind; a faint violet aura coiled about him, half-immortal, half-demonic. Handsome of face, a vermilion mark between his brows like blood, eyes deep as an abyss, a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked down at her.

“What a kind-hearted little girl.”

His voice was low and a touch lazy, but brooked no refusal.

Yao Yao’s pupils tightened.

She couldn’t gauge his cultivation. He was beyond False Core elders like Old Ancestor Wu and the Lei Ancestor. Only one possibility remained: a Golden Core True Person.

But this place was supposed to be a Purple Mansion zone—why would a Golden Core appear here? Her fingertips quietly pressed the talismans hidden in her sleeve, though her face betrayed nothing. “Senior, who might you be?”

He chuckled and in a blur stood within ten feet of her. He didn’t strike, only stood with his hands behind his back. His gaze roamed over her and finally paused on her pure, peerless face; a hint of playfulness glinted in his eyes. “There’s no need for you to know this seat’s name.”

His tone was casual, like idle chat—but Yao Yao felt an invisible pressure smother her; even breathing became hard.

“This Nine-Leaf Soul-Consolidating Grass is decent. This seat will take it.”

His sleeve flicked.

Bang—bang—bang!

The Soul-Locking Grand Array she had laid earlier shattered at once; the flags crumbled to dust.

Yao Yao’s heart sank, but she forced herself calm. “Senior is a Golden Core True Person. Why contend with a junior over a single herb?”

At that, the man—Xuan Mingzi—smiled wider and strolled closer. With every step, the spiritual power around Yao Yao congealed more, as if a formless hand gripped her and held her still.

“Herbs don’t interest this seat.”

He lifted his hand. Long fingers hooked a lock of her hair and wound it idly. His voice was low and dangerous. “But you—I am very interested.”

Yao Yao’s gaze chilled, power surging at her fingertips—but he saw through her in a glance.

“Don’t be hasty.”

Xuan Mingzi laughed softly. His fingertip tapped her brow. Purple lightning flickered; a thread of blood oozed at her glabella.

“Within three breaths—hand over the herb and agree to dual cultivate with this seat, and I’ll spare your life.”

His tone was gentle, but each word cut like a blade.

Yao Yao was silent a moment. Then she suddenly looked up, the corner of her mouth curling. “With such favor from Senior, how would I dare refuse?”

Before the words fell, the talismans in her sleeve ignited. She blasted backward.

Xuan Mingzi’s eyes went cold; he was about to strike when she formed a seal and blood-light erupted from the ground.

“Substitution Talisman—burst!”

With a thunderous detonation, Yao Yao borrowed the backlash and fled far away. Her voice drifted back on the wind.

“Today’s humiliation—I will repay a hundredfold!”

Xuan Mingzi shook off the bloody mist and watched the direction she’d gone. Instead of anger, he laughed.

“Interesting.”

He lifted a hand. A violet sigil appeared and shot off as a streak of light in pursuit.

“Let’s see how far you can run.”

Yao Yao urged the Four-Winged Scarlet Python to full speed. Behind her, violet qi clung like a shadow. Xuan Mingzi’s pressure pressed closer and closer, nearly crushing her breath.

“Damn it!” She gritted her teeth, formed a seal, and the python keened, pushing three points faster.

Suddenly, a mist-swaddled colossus rose ahead, a primordial mountain rearing from the earth—its ridgeline like a fox’s bowed head, nine strands of spirit mist trailing like swaying tails. It was the legendary—Qingqiu Mountain!

Yao Yao’s heart thudded. Her blood surged inexplicably, as if something were calling to her.

“This is—” Her pupils contracted, but before she could think further, Xuan Mingzi’s icy voice came from behind.

“Little girl, you can’t escape. Be docile for this seat—serve me well, and perhaps I’ll help you form a core. Opportunities like this are something female cultivators would claw each other to bits for. Don’t be ignorant of your blessings.”

Violet qi billowed. Xuan Mingzi paced the air toward her, cold light flashing in his eyes—his patience gone.

Yao Yao glanced back, then looked into the depths of Qingqiu Mountain. That tug on her blood grew stronger.

No way out—bet it all!

Her eyes sharpened. She slapped the python. “Xiao Hong—into the mountain!”

The python screamed. Four wings beat once, and they shot into Qingqiu’s bounds like a red meteor.

Xuan Mingzi halted outside the mountain and frowned.

“Qingqiu Mountain…”

He muttered, a hint of dread crossing his eyes.

They said Qingqiu was the sacred land of the ancient fox race, layered in prohibitions. Those who trespassed died without burial. Stranger still, cultivators had entered and vanished without a trace, their very souls failing to escape.

He stared at the path where Yao Yao had vanished. Purple lightning flickered at his fingertips as he weighed the risk.

In the end, he snorted, flicked his sleeve, and stamped a violet mark outside the mountain.

“Let’s see how long you can hide in there.”

With that, he turned and left, his figure fading into cloud.

Inside Qingqiu.

After landing, the python’s strength gave out; it shrank and coiled around Yao Yao’s wrist, panting. She looked around. Ancient trees towered; spirit mist drifted; fox-shapes flickered at the edge of sight.

“Why…does this feel familiar?” she murmured.

Qingqiu was a deathtrap. She’d never have entered if not forced. And yet her blood seemed to leap with a touch of excitement, as if—summoned by something.

“What is going on?!”

Could this be why Qingqiu was a place of certain death—because this damned lure bewitched people?

She wanted no part of it.

She planned to leave the moment Xuan Mingzi outside withdrew. But when she swept with her spiritual sense, her face changed.

“What—”

The path she’d come from was gone!

What’s more, her spiritual power sank into her body like stones into the sea—she couldn’t move even a drop. The same was true of her Four-Winged Scarlet Python.

Panic nipped at her.

Now she understood why this was a deathtrap.

Then—

Boom.

The ground went soft underfoot. She looked down with a start. The firm earth had turned to flowing sand, swallowing her legs at visible speed.

“Not good!”

She hurried through seals to rise into the air—but her magic still wouldn’t respond, and the python, too, was helpless.

“What do I do?”

The more she struggled, the faster she sank.

Fear flooded her face.

But she refused to die.

Her mind raced for a way out.

Just as the sand was about to swallow her whole, a light sigh sounded by her ear—

“Three steps left. Step on the green stone.”

The voice drifted like the wind, yet it made her blood boil. Cornered, she no longer cared where it came from. She gritted her teeth.

“Take the gamble!”

She lunged left, planting her foot on an unremarkable green stone three steps away.

Boom—

The sands froze in an instant, turning back into solid earth.

“That was close!”

She steadied herself, panting, cold sweat beading her brow. Was it all an illusion? But the illusion was frighteningly real. Without that voice, she felt sure she would have been buried alive.

“Keep going.”

The airy voice came again.

Every time it sounded, her blood surged. She scanned the twisted, claw-like trees around, but saw nothing. After a brief struggle, she followed the voice’s guidance onward.

She didn’t know how long she walked.

A cliff barred her way, and below yawned a bottomless chasm. From the depths came ghastly howls, like unnumbered resentful souls wailing. Only a rotting vine-bridge clung to the cliff’s edge, swaying, ready to snap.

She tested a step onto it. The bridge groaned in protest, as if it would break any moment.

“Close your eyes. Walk straight.”

The voice came again, brooking no argument.

Yao Yao drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped forward by the sense in her blood. Strangely, when she fully trusted the guidance, the bridge underfoot felt steady. The howls of the dead faded from her ears.

When she opened her eyes again, she was safely across.

“What is this place…” she whispered—then a chill stabbed her bones.

In the forest ahead, countless crimson eyes lit in the dark and surged toward her like a tide. They were Qingqiu’s tomb-guarding fiends—Soul-Eater Fox Bats, feeders on cultivators’ souls. Once tangled with them, even Purple Mansion experts rarely escaped alive.

Back to a rock wall, she had nowhere to retreat. Just as the first fox bat was about to claw her face, the voice sounded for the third time—

“Blood for the guide. Call my name.”

On reflex, Yao Yao bit her finger, flicked a bead of blood into the air, and shouted a name even she didn’t know she knew:

“Qing Li!”

At the pop of the blood-bead, all Qingqiu Mountain trembled.

Every fox bat jerked as if struck by lightning and fell from the air, dissolving into black smoke. Before Yao Yao, the rock face boomed and split open, revealing a cavern bathed in nine-colored glow.

“This is…”

She blinked, stunned.

She steadied her gaze.

At the cavern’s center, a colossal skeleton lay crouched in silence.

It was the complete remains of a Nine-Tailed Heavenly Fox. Its body was like flawless jade, limpid and crystalline. Though it had died hundreds of thousands of years ago, every bone still pressed down with suffocating might. Its skull bowed, as if guarding; in its empty eye sockets, golden flames seemed to flicker. The nine tail bones spread like a fan, each more than ten zhang long, the joints inscribed with natural runes still flowing faintly.

Yao Yao held her breath without realizing.

Nine ancient bronze lamps ringed the remains. Their flames had long gone out, but the nine-tailed totems carved on their bodies were lifelike.

More shocking still, a rust-pitted ancient sword was driven deep into the ground between the foreclaws—its blade sunk three inches into the stone dais, a web of cracks radiating out, as if telling of a world-shaking battle long ago.

At that sight, tears fell from Yao Yao’s eyes of their own accord, pattering to the ground. The drops seemed to trigger something.

Hum—

The remains glowed with misty cyan light; the runes at each joint lit up in turn. Then, before her eyes, the entire skeleton began to weather. Jade-white bone turned to starlight and rose, gathering at the cave’s dome into a river of stars.

“No!”

Instinctively, she reached out. The next instant, the stars surged into her and vanished at her fingertips. Scalding power raced along her meridians and finally condensed between her brows as a nine-tailed sigil.

At the same time, the cavern shook violently.

On the stone wall facing the remains, a mural hidden under dust grew clear: a nine-tailed fox howled at the heavens; behind it, mountains collapsed and cities burned. In the lower right, a line of tiny characters seeped in blood—

“Descendant of Qingqiu, take up my will.”

Thanks for reading—what a ride! If you’re enjoying the journey, please consider supporting me on Patreon; even a small pledge keeps the translations flowing and means the world to me. And if you have a moment, drop a rating or review on NovelUpdates—your feedback helps more readers find this series and keeps me motivated to bring you the next chapters!

Next Chapter >