Chapter 290: Chapter Thirty-Three: Stealing the Law Jade Coffin, Footprints of the Primordial Taiji, Nine-Tailed Spirit Cat

"There are two ways up!" Xiao Yu opened his Yin-Yang Eyes, scrutinizing every detail of the Jade Mountain, and whispered, "We can climb up the Jade Mountain, or we can lower ourselves from the stalactites on the cave ceiling!"

"Don't lower yourselves!" The old Daoist carefully examined the feng shui here and said, "The Qi Jinchan has already opened its mouth—lowering down means falling straight into its jaws. We'll be treated as live bait!"

"Then let's climb the Jade Mountain!"

"The entire Jade Mountain is the coffin of that peerless immortal maiden, saturated with terrifying prohibitions—but fortunately, there's that poem. The poem suppresses the coffin, leaving the prohibitions incomplete and carving out a path to survival!" the old Daoist warned.

Xiao Yu and the other two were stunned: "After that peerless immortal was buried here, did someone else come? And leave this poem behind?"

The old Daoist nodded solemnly: "If not for seeing the Jade Mountain's peak, I'd meet her beneath the jade terrace under the moon!"

"This Jade Mountain is naturally the 'Jade Mountain' mentioned, and that jade terrace is the 'Jade Terrace.' Clearly, someone climbed the mountain, stood before the Jade Terrace, met the immortal who claimed this place as her own, and left this poem."

"It praises the immortal's peerless beauty—and also suppresses her transformed corpse, a monstrous corpse of unparalleled danger."

"From observing the feng shui's aura, I see the Jade Mountain is brimming with lethal traps—prohibitions left by the immortal to prevent anyone from desecrating her body. Yet someone still broke through, reached the Jade Terrace, gazed upon her peerless visage, and left a poem behind. As long as we follow the footsteps he left, we can ascend the Jade Mountain."

If anyone else worried about their corpse being desecrated, Xiao Yu would've teased: That person's imagining things. How morbid would a grave robber have to be to care about an ancient corpse?

But for this peerless elder, Xiao Yu found it entirely reasonable.

Such a corpse would drive the necromantic sects—even the true transmission of the demonic corpse path—into madness.

Didn't you see? Even with such careful arrangements, someone still dared to comment on her, mock her, and leave a poem behind?

The three began climbing the Jade Mountain. To avoid triggering residual prohibitions, they dared not use magic power, relying solely on their physical bodies to perform the Wall-Crawling Technique, following the old Daoist's detection of qi currents and the previous climber's footprints, not daring to misstep even once.

Before climbing, the old Daoist had warned them: One misstep on the Jade Mountain would trigger the prohibitions. The lethal aura of this feng shui anomaly could reduce all three of them to ash in an instant. Even a Golden Core elder or a Nascent Soul cultivator would die without fail.

"Thankfully, we arrived after this lethal place transformed into a miraculous spot. Otherwise, the killing aura would've been a hundred times stronger—a truly unsolvable death trap. Even following the previous climber's footsteps, no one without Golden Core cultivation could ascend."

The old Daoist moved slowly. Xiao Yu and the other dared not urge him. In this place, one misstep meant certain death.

At that moment, the distant flying heads—perhaps unable to resist the lure of fresh flesh—sent a small group of dozens soaring into the abyss where the great lake lay. The instant they entered, a white line shot from the Jade Mountain, instantly draining their life force.

The entire group of flying heads instantly turned to ash, falling into the lake.

The white vapor, tinged with a trace of blood, retracted back onto the Jade Mountain.

Whether illusion or reality, the three felt that where the white vapor had fallen, a faint thread of blood now lingered.

The old Daoist, leading the way, froze in place, his legs trembling. He whispered: "This is the Qi Jinchan's breath—the power of the Qi Jinchan feng shui formation. It can transform life force into death energy, and vice versa."

"Had we entered before we hooked the Qi Jinchan, we'd have been instantly devoured by its life force, transformed into death energy, just like these flying heads. Only after the Qi Jinchan is hooked does it begin consuming death energy and converting it into life force."

It took two full hours before the three reached the summit of the Jade Mountain. Xiao Yu was the first to grip the cliff edge, flipped like a kite, and landed atop the peak. It was a small platform, roughly thirty zhang across, with the jade terrace at its center. The peerless immortal within the jade dragon egg, at this distance, radiated even greater allure—so much so that Xiao Yu couldn't tear his eyes away.

Unconsciously, Xiao Yu took a step forward, wanting to draw closer to her.

Someone pulled him back from behind—he snapped out of it, heart pounding with dread.

It was the old Daoist, who had just climbed up and noticed Xiao Yu's vacant gaze—he yanked him back. The old Daoist was drenched in sweat: "The prohibitions here are even more terrifying! One misstep won't just be erased by the killing aura—it will draw the immortal's strike, born from the poem's spiritual essence!"

"The one who left the poem embedded his Dao within it—to prevent the immortal's corpse from transforming into a monster and ravaging the mortal world, and also to protect her body."

Xiao Yu was also shaken. Just now, he'd felt as if possessed—his eyes fixed solely on the immortal, forgetting everything else.

Such peerless beauty alone could shatter a cultivator's Dao heart.

Xiao Yu dared not look again. He calmly pulled three incense sticks from his robes.

This time, the incense wasn't the formula Brother Qian Chen had taught him—it was a skill Xiao Yu had developed through years of grave-robbing: the Sensing Qi Incense!

It revealed fluctuations in spiritual energy and exposed hidden prohibitions.

After learning incense arts from Brother Qian Chen, Xiao Yu refined the formula further—it could now detect even the subtlest changes in qi. By observing the incense smoke, one could perceive all prohibitions.

Xiao Yu bowed three times with reverence and prayed: "Your humble disciple seeks the Dao, seeking only the Golden Scroll. I take nothing else. I beg you, elder, grant me a path to life!"

The three recited the prayer, then lit the incense.

The incense smoke curled upward, and wherever it drifted, countless hair-thin threads of nine-colored light appeared, interwoven within the white vapor. Xiao Yu and the others paled—though the prohibitions seemed invisible, the lethal intent within them was terrifying.

Fortunately, where the smoke passed, footprints appeared on the ground.

At the center of each footprint, two Yin-Yang fish entwined, forming a Primordial Taiji diagram. The S-shaped curve within the Primordial Taiji, like lightning, severed the invisible threads of prohibition in the air.

"Not a single step may be misstepped!" the old Daoist warned.

He extended one foot first, stepping onto the first Primordial Taiji diagram, brushing past the lethal aura in the air. Cold sweat poured down his back. Xiao Yu followed next, warning the big man: "These aerial prohibitions don't care about height. As long as you step on the Primordial Taiji diagram, you're safe."

The big man heard him, but still moved cautiously, crouching like a bear afraid to stretch out—his towering frame, several heads taller than Xiao Yu, seemed to shrink into a ball.

From the cliff's edge to the white jade terrace, the elder's footprints totaled twenty-four steps. Twenty-four Primordial Taiji diagrams, each hiding some profound mystery. As Xiao Yu stepped through each one, a spark of insight stirred—he began to comprehend part of their transformation.

"These twenty-four Primordial Taiji steps are the supreme technique for breaking prohibitions!" the old Daoist marveled. "In all my years exploring tombs, the deadliest traps I've encountered never exceeded nine steps. Perhaps only the…." He fell silent abruptly, then sighed: "Even my former sect's forbidden grounds required only twenty-two steps!"

Xiao Yu's face turned pale, his inner spirit weary. He lit a Pure Incense stick, inhaling its smoke to restore his spiritual strength.

"How many steps did you memorize?"

The old Daoist shook his head: "I memorized thirteen steps—but I can only walk six."

Xiao Yu said: "I comprehended nine steps. With my inner spirit, I forcibly memorized twenty—but the last four are hazy, beyond full recall!"

The big man rubbed his head and whispered: "I… didn't remember… any."

He whined: "I looked too long—the two fish just kept spinning. My eyes went blurry!"

Xiao Yu and the old Daoist fell silent. The old Daoist sighed: "It seems we only memorized the steps and qi patterns. The fundamental Yin-Yang transformations—only the big man caught a trace of their essence."

"We'll discuss this later. Right now, we must get the Golden Scroll!" Xiao Yu urged.

The old Daoist gazed at the table still a zhang away and sighed: "The elder only reached this point. Even while admiring the beauty, he never overstepped propriety—he never approached the burial offerings."

Xiao Yu tilted his head, measuring the distance between the old Daoist and the table, then glanced at the big man's arm span. He suddenly spoke: "Old Daoist, switch places with the big man…" The old Daoist turned, understood instantly, and said only: "Be careful."

Xiao Yu leaped backward, his right foot still on the Primordial Taiji diagram, his left hand snatching the big man's shoulder. He twisted his waist and hips, flipping himself up onto the big man's shoulders.

The old Daoist and the big man swiftly exchanged positions, stepping on the Primordial Taiji diagrams.

The big man leaned forward, gripping Xiao Yu's feet, extending him toward the table. At that moment, Xiao Yu exhaled the Sensing Qi incense smoke he'd held in his mouth.

The white smoke enveloped the table. Countless nine-colored threads wove together above it, forming a pipa. Five strings hung taut—as if even the slightest disturbance of qi would set them vibrating.

This was no ordinary pipa—it was a Soul-Stealing Pipa.

Xiao Yu held his breath, extending his hand. He steadied his right hand, threading it through the gaps between the nine-colored threads. His hand seemed boneless, twisting and contorting, slipping through countless interwoven threads. Now, only half a zhang separated him from the Golden Scroll.

At this point, many parts of his right hand were less than a hair's breadth from the nine-colored prohibitions. But the space ahead had become impossibly narrow.

He couldn't use magic power. This was an unprecedented test.

Cold sweat poured from his brow. He forced his five fingers into an agonizingly twisted angle, overlapping them, jamming them into a gap only two fingers wide.

Just one zhang more—he could reach the Golden Scroll.

But how to retrieve it afterward—he didn't dare think. Just touching it had drained every ounce of his will.

"Meow?"

Xiao Yu, utterly focused on breaking the prohibitions, suddenly heard a cat's meow. At first he thought it an illusion—but then his right hand tingled. A furry thing brushed against it, making his back hairs stand on end.

He froze his right hand instantly, slowly turning his head to see what it was.

A black cat.

Or rather—a Spirit Cat of the Netherworld, crouched atop the table, tilting its head at him. Its bright eyes were filled with curiosity.

As if asking: What are you doing?

"How is there a cat here?" Xiao Yu's mind exploded. He saw the nine-colored threads ignore the cat entirely, letting it stretch its paw to paw at the scroll—passing through without resistance.

Had Xiao Yu not been pressed against the threads, his inner spirit screaming warnings, he'd have thought them illusions.

Behind him, the old Daoist spoke in a hushed, trembling voice, afraid even a whisper might make Xiao Yu's hand shake: "Xiao Yu, this cat is strange! Look at its tail!"

Xiao Yu carefully lifted his gaze again, watching the tail that had brushed his arm. It flicked once—and split into nine phantom tails.

"Nine-Tailed Spirit Cat!"

"It's a hybrid of Nine-Tailed Spirit Cat and Spirit Cat. Such a lineage is extremely rare and precious. And look at its lustrous fur, its lively eyes—it's clearly a domesticated spirit pet!" the old Daoist said gravely.

"You mean… this spirit cat was the immortal's pet in life?" Xiao Yu's composure shattered.

The Spirit Cat tilted its head slightly, its gaze shifting to the big man, showing clear interest.

The big man whispered: "Xiao Yu, it's scaring me!"

The old Daoist murmured: "Don't move. Big man, you're just too heavy with corpse qi. Xiao Yu's Prayer Incense protects your soul—it can't suppress you. Spirit cats are playful. Wait until it loses interest."

"Besides, if it weren't a tamed pet, we'd already be dead. Its cultivation likely rivals a Golden Core cultivator. Even those ancient Golden Core monsters nearing death couldn't resist it. After all, such spirit beasts are naturally born to suppress undead and demons."

The Spirit Cat stood near the Golden Scroll. The big man and Xiao Yu didn't move. True to form, it soon lost interest. It lazily extended a paw, licking it with a pink tongue—almost cute. Hard to imagine such a noble-blooded, death-defying, netherworld-sensing beast, capable of devouring demons and ghosts, could be this pet-like.

Xiao Yu's right hand was twisted into excruciating agony. Cold sweat dripped from his brow. It didn't trigger the prohibitions—but the pain was unbearable.

Xiao Yu sighed inwardly: "A dire omen! A terrible omen! My name is Xiao Yu, and in this deadly place, I meet a spirit cat? It's going to eat me alive!"

The old Daoist pulled out a bronze mirror. Using the faint jade glow reflected from the mountain, he focused a tiny beam of light onto the Spirit Cat's back. The flickering spot instantly caught its attention.

But as the light shimmered, the nine-colored threads in the air twitched slightly.

Xiao Yu's back hairs stood on end again!

Fortunately, the light stopped before triggering the prohibitions. The Spirit Cat's attention shifted behind it—and Xiao Yu seized the chance. He steadied his right hand, pushed to his limit, and reached forward. Finally, before the situation became hopeless, his middle finger touched the Golden Scroll. He painfully nudged it with his fingers.

But at that moment, a furry paw landed on the other end of the Golden Scroll.

Xiao Yu snapped back to see the Spirit Cat had turned its head, watching his fingers with keen interest. Its left paw pressed the scroll; its right paw gently scratched his fingers. Xiao Yu nearly broke down. He barely held his right hand steady, not trembling at all.

But the Spirit Cat's innate mischief kicked in—it had already pulled the scroll another zhang away from Xiao Yu's grasp.

Watching the Spirit Cat paw at the scroll, playing with it, Xiao Yu felt a strong urge to strangle it.

Xiao Yu's efforts had reached their limit. This short distance felt like a chasm—he had no other options. The old Daoist sighed behind him: "Give up. Fate has spoken… We came for the Golden Scroll, but were blocked by the tomb owner's spirit pet. Perhaps she doesn't wish us to take it. We should show proper respect and withdraw."

Xiao Yu whimpered: "I don't think it's the immortal's will—it's just this cat being a nuisance!"

The Spirit Cat lifted its head, giving him a smug, mischievous look—and pushed the scroll back a little farther. Xiao Yu's eyes widened like bells. He trembled: "It understands me!"

The old Daoist murmured: "Obviously. A spirit beast that's formed a demonic core—how could it not understand human speech?"

The Spirit Cat now placed its paw on Xiao Yu's right hand, pressing gently, giving him a look that said: You know what I mean.

"Master Cat, I was wrong!" Xiao Yu surrendered instantly.

The Spirit Cat flicked its tail, treating Xiao Yu like a toy—wiggling its tail to tickle him, using its padded paws to scratch his right hand. It played until Xiao Yu begged for mercy, whimpering and pleading. After a long while, perhaps bored, it padded over to Xiao Yu, turned, and let out a series of mournful cries toward its master inside the jade dragon egg.

"Cats are cruel spiritual beasts; even when they grow bored, they may not let us go. Or rather, the fact that they're playing with us at all suggests they've been here too long," the old Taoist whispered. "Xiao Yu, retreat!"

Xiao Yu whispered, "Just hold on a little longer—I'm almost there!"

Xiao Yu's fingers were only three inches from the Golden Scroll, but when he strained to extend them another inch, the prohibition sealed shut completely—not a single step forward was possible, and even retreating had become dangerous.

At that moment, the jade dragon egg's jade figure blinked its eyelashes.

The black cat suddenly leapt off the table, scampered to the jade dragon egg, and clawed frantically at the egg sac, letting out piercing wails.

On either side of the jade dragon egg, two golden and silver child figurines—like burial offerings—had appeared without notice.

Now, they suddenly moved.

The silver child lunged forward, embraced the black cat, and began playing with it. The golden child strolled calmly onto the table, picked up the Golden Scroll, ignored the prohibition entirely, walked to the table's edge, and handed the scroll to Xiao Yu.

It carried a jade scepter and opened the table's prohibition.

Xiao Yu seized the chance to pull back his aching right hand, took the Golden Scroll, and stared in stunned silence before mumbling a thanks to the golden child. The golden child turned to look at the silver child rolling with the black cat, chirped a few incomprehensible sounds, slung the jade scepter over its back, and leapt off the table to leave.

The prohibition had been opened and remained unsealed; the table now lay exposed before Xiao Yu.

He need only reach out again to claim several spiritual artifacts glowing with unmistakable power—but Xiao Yu merely tucked the Golden Scroll away and carefully returned to the Primordial Taiji footprint.

The old Taoist nodded. "Since you've been granted permission, know when to advance and when to withdraw!"

"The Feng Xianzi spared our lives and gifted us the Yin Cultivation Form. Let us bow once more in gratitude, then leave this place!"

Xiao Yu, exhausted and drained by the close calls, weakly agreed.

The three bowed to the Feng Xianzi within the jade dragon egg, stepped backward along the Primordial Taiji footprint, and retreated from the summit of Yushan, retracing their path. The old Taoist employed strange techniques to locate an exit; when they emerged from the Toad-Fishing Marvelous Cave, a full day and night had passed.

Fortunately, it was daytime; though the demon cave knew no sunlight, most of the corpse-beasts remained dormant.

With the corpse incense as their shield, the three, though trembling with fear at every step, returned unscathed to the White Bone Temple…