"Celestial Inscriber…"
Su Xiaobai muttered, picking up the brush.
The name alone sounded important, but it wasn't until he read the note's final lines that he understood its true value.
Unlike most formation tools, which required profound Qi to create arrays, this brush used spirit stones as fuel. The quality of the spirit stones dictated the strength and precision of the formations it inscribed.
Su Xiaobai chuckled, his grip tightening on the brush. "So I don't have to wait until Core Formation Realm to use this? Perfect."
His smile widened as he pocketed the pen. For once, something in this damned tomb was actually useful.
With the book and brush secured in his spatial ring, Su Xiaobai's mood lightened considerably. Between Tian Yu's practical legacy and the Infernal Emperor's overwhelming one, he now had access to the knowledge of two formation masters.
Tian Yu's formations were practical, mostly mortal-grade arrays with achievable requirements. On the other hand, the Infernal Emperor's were the complete opposite—overkill, grand designs that were simply impossible for Su Xiaobai in his current state.
"There are some things in the Infernal Emperor's memories that might help," Su Xiaobai murmured, shaking his head. "But by the time I can use his Heavenly Bridge Summoning Array, I'll probably be punching through stars with one hand."
He laughed at the absurdity of it all. Yet deep down, he felt a spark of hope reignite.
His priorities had shifted. Finding the Spatial Treasure could is no longer needed. Now, he needed to focus on gathering the materials to activate the Astral Gateway Array. His family might still be alive. He'd bring them back—no matter how long it took.
Sliding the book and pen into his ring, he grinned to himself.
"Perfect."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Su Xiaobai's path forward seemed clear.
"Let's check the coffin!"
Su Xiaobai took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. For now, it seemed like a few of the higher-ups were still watching. He wouldn't dare jinx it by saying it out loud again—he'd learned his lesson the hard way.
But his new strategy seemed to be working.
Mutual benefit.
He'd healed Fairy Lianhua and gotten the treasure in return. Now, he just needed to check on this Yue'er, see what the fuss was about, and—if possible—raise her from the coffin.
Because that's why he was here, right?
Totally planned!
'As long as I pretend to help the higher-ups, they'll keep throwing me things,' he muttered under his breath. 'Fine by me. I'm a tool man, and I know it.'
For now, he'd keep his emotions in check, at least until his family was safe.
Afterwards? He grinned to himself. Once his mother and sisters were back, he could go right back to his daily sessions of cursing the higher-ups.
After all, their hate was perfectly mutual: they hated him, and he hated them.
As long as the benefits kept flowing, the system worked—or so he told himself.
He approached the coffin, his steps slow and deliberate.
"You guys stop acting like my mute girlfriend," he muttered, the words meant as much for himself as for the supposed higher-ups watching. "Just say it directly next time if you want me to do something, okay?"
The humor helped keep his anxiety at bay. He didn't know what he'd see inside the coffin, and the thought made his palms sweat.
But as he stood before it, staring at the intricately carved surface, he exhaled sharply and rolled his shoulders.
"Alright, Yue'er," he said, placing his hands on the coffin lid. "Let's see what all the fuss is about."
Creaaaaak.
The coffin lid groaned, stale cold air hissing out like a dying breath. Su Xiaobai waved a hand in front of his face, muttering, "Smells like dead regrets."
But when he looked inside, the words caught in his throat.
There she was.
Yue'er.
Hair like rivers of midnight framed a face so ethereal it felt wrong to look at. Her pale skin shimmered faintly, not like flesh, but like frost kissed by moonlight.
The deep blue gown she wore, adorned with snowflake-like patterns that seemed alive, shifting with the faint light. A sapphire pendant rested against her chest, and tiny beads of frost glimmered on her lashes.
She wasn't just beautiful. She was untouchable—an immortal painting trapped in death.
"Yue'er," he whispered, her name slipping free before he could stop himself.
She lay motionless, her chest rising and falling so faintly it was barely there. The air around her was cold—biting, distant, like winter itself had settled into her veins.
For a moment, Su Xiaobai just stared, his usual wit deserting him.
He couldn't deny it—if Yue'er wasn't Tian Yu's woman, he would have definitely thought about making her his own.
Her beauty was unreal, the kind that made men wage wars and abandon empires. But knowing she was tied to Tian Yu's tragic tale kept him in check.
"Alright," he muttered finally, his voice breaking the silence. "You're perfect, I get it. But what the hell am I supposed to do with you?"
The words unanswered, as if the coffin itself was daring him to act.
"..."
Su Xiaobai stared at the coffin, then glanced up at the 'Immortal Fetus' hovering ominously above. He rubbed his chin.
"By the original plan, I'm supposed to merge the fetus with you," he muttered, his voice low, "so your disease is cured before I pull you out. Otherwise…" He glanced at Yue'er's still, fragile form. "You'd die instantly."
Hisss…
Before he could think further, the *Immortal Fetus* thumped violently, releasing thin, tendril-like threads that slithered downward toward the coffin. Su Xiaobai's eyes widened in panic.
"Oh, hell no!"
BANG!
He slammed the coffin lid shut.
Creeeek.
A heavy silence followed. Su Xiaobai let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"Really, what a pain…" he muttered, his frown deepening. The problem was obvious—if the coffin was exposed, the fetus would try to drain Yue'er's vitality. But keeping it shut wasn't exactly a permanent solution either.
"Should I just throw it into my spatial ring?"
He gave it a shot, holding his hand over the coffin and willing it into storage. Nothing happened. The coffin remained stubbornly in place.
"Of course it doesn't work," Su Xiaobai grumbled. "Probably because she's inside. Figures."
He sighed again, glancing at the fetus. "If this was an option, Tian Yu would've carried her to the heavens himself. Guess I'm stuck with you."
His gaze lingered on the 'Immortal Fetus'. The pulsing light within it had grown stronger. It wasn't just a tool anymore—it had life. A life that was nearing its final stage.
"It's beyond the point where I could merge it with you, anyway," he muttered, shaking his head. "And honestly, I don't feel like pissing it off. That thing's powerful enough to give me nightmares."
Turning back to the coffin, Su Xiaobai's eyes narrowed in thought.
"Alright," he said aloud. "If I can't use the fetus, maybe I can redirect some of the spiritual energy flow from the Soul Refining Array. If luck's on your side, it might help your recovery… or at least give you a fighting chance."
The plan wasn't foolproof. Hell, it wasn't even a plan. But it was better than doing nothing.
Tian Yu hadn't been able to alter the Soul Refining Array. But he could.
After all, Su Xiaobai wasn't relying on Tian Yu's limited knowledge—he had the Infernal Emperor's memories to back him up.
If the Infernal Emperor could create arrays that turned entire dynasties into ash, redirecting a sliver of energy to a coffin should be child's play. Right?
He cracked his knuckles and pulled out the Celestial Inscriber.
____
Hours later, Su Xiaobai wiped the sweat from his brow, glaring at the dozens of depleted spirit stones scattered around him.
"Damn this thing eats like a starving beast," he muttered, pocketing the celestial inscriber. "Didn't think it'd drain me dry on its first round..."
He glanced at the array's glowing runes, now slightly altered to redirect a thin stream of refined spiritual energy toward the coffin. From the cracks, a faint glimmer of power seeped into the sealed space.
"It's done," Su Xiaobai announced, stepping back to admire his handiwork.
Honestly, he had no idea if it would work. He didn't even know what Yue'er's disease was. But maybe—just maybe—this would give her enough strength to wake up on her own.
He shrugged.
"Well, whatever," he said, stretching his arms above his head. "It's out of my hands now. If the higher-ups want you alive, they'll make it happen. If not…"
He trailed off, staring at the faint light trickling into the coffin.
"Well, it's not my problem anymore."
With that, Su Xiaobai turned away, though he couldn't quite shake the uneasy feeling at the edge of his thoughts.