Su i, the forr chief auctioneer and master of intelligence from the Golden Dragon Pavilion, was currently clad in a highly itchy, deeply unflattering gray burlap sack. In her hand, she held a plain bamboo broom.
Her task was simple: sweep the fallen peach blossoms from the white jade courtyard.
Yet to Su i, it felt like a life-and-death trial.
Seated at the edge of the veranda, leisurely sipping morning tea, was Tantai Zhi. The majestic Saintess was not admiring the distant peaks or the drifting clouds. Her golden eyes were fixed entirely on Su i, unblinking, following her every movent with the cold precision of a hawk watching a particularly unsightly rodent.
"You missed a petal," Tantai Zhi said softly.
Her tone was gentle, yet it carried a biting chill that caused the morning dew upon the grass to freeze.
Su i trembled violently. She did not rely sweep the petal. She dropped to her knees, carefully picked up the tiny pink blossom, and vigorously wiped the jade tile with the sleeve of her burlap garnt.
"F-Forgive this servant, Supre Goddess!" Su i stamred, drenched in sweat. "This servant has removed the offending petal! The tile is spotless!"
Tantai Zhi took a slow sip of tea, her gaze devoid of warmth.
"If even a speck of dust touches my husband’s boots when he walks here, I will bind you to a kite and send you into a thunderstorm."
"I will sweep even the air itself!" Su i cried, wildly swinging her broom at empty space.
Within her heart, Su i wept blood. She was a Heavenly Fox, a being ant to dwell in silks and savor fine wine—not wage war against dust and fallen petals. Yet whenever the thought of escape arose, she recalled the boundless, terrifying demonic abyss concealed within the young master resting in the inner chamber.
The Saintess might destroy her body.
But that boy would erase her very soul.
At that mont, the bamboo screen of the master chamber slid open.
In an instant, the suffocating chill that gripped the courtyard vanished. Tantai Zhi set down her teacup, her fearso presence dissipating like mist. She rose lightly from the veranda, her face blossoming into a radiant, affectionate smile.
"Husband!" she called brightly, hurrying toward him. "Did you rest well? You seem sowhat pale. Was the bed uncomfortable? I will have the craftsn punished at once."
Yan Shuo stepped into the morning sunlight, stretching leisurely. A natural, gentle smile rested on his face.
"No need, Wife. The bed was perfectly comfortable," Yan Shuo said with a soft chuckle, catching her as she pressed against his side. "I rely feel so lingering fatigue from our journey to the Central Continent. My cultivation is still at the early stage; such travel is not without strain."
Tantai Zhi’s eyes widened with concern. "Then you must rest! I will guide my Yin Qi into your ridians to nourish them!"
Yan Shuo tapped her lightly on the nose, smiling. "On the contrary, I must enter seclusion for a few days to consolidate my Qi. It requires silence and focus—a rather dull breathing thod. If I am distracted by my wife’s beauty, I may disrupt the circulation."
Tantai Zhi gasped softly, her cheeks flushing a delicate crimson. "If... if Husband requires focus, I will not disturb you. I shall guard the entrance."
Yan Shuo smiled faintly. As expected. This thod never fails.
"I am grateful, Wife," Yan Shuo said. His gaze drifted toward the trembling figure in burlap. "Besides, soone must watch over our new servant. Ensure she does not grow careless during my seclusion."
Tantai Zhi slowly turned her head toward Su i. Her golden eyes narrowed into chilling slits.
"Rest assured, Husband," she said softly, her tone carrying a quiet nace. "If that fox so much as breathes too loudly and disturbs your cultivation, I will bury her beneath the mountain."
Su i instantly clamped both hands over her mouth and ceased breathing altogether.
Satisfied, Yan Shuo leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Tantai Zhi’s head before turning toward the heavy stone doors of the underground ditation chamber.
He stepped inside and pulled the iron lever.
Clunk. Hiss.
The massive stone doors slid shut, sealing the chamber completely. Intricate array lines ignited along the walls, isolating the room from all spiritual perception.
The mont the doors closed, the indolent, pampered youth vanished.
Yan Shuo’s posture straightened. His gaze turned cold, ancient, and razor-sharp.
He moved to the center of the chamber and sat cross-legged upon the stone floor. Without hesitation, he reached into his spatial ring.
THUD.
A rusted, pitch-black mass of tal fell heavily onto the ground. The very bedrock beneath the chamber groaned under its weight.
The Abyssal Star-Core.
Yan Shuo studied the crude black stone in silence. Ordinarily, to advance from Foundation Establishnt to Core Formation, a cultivator would carefully condense their liquid Qi into a flawless golden core—a process requiring years of effort, costly resources, and extre caution.
Yan Shuo had neither ti nor patience for such thods.
"Let us see," Yan Shuo murmured, rolling up his sleeves, "whether my old demonic arts still retain their edge."
He closed his eyes and activated the Heaven-Swallowing Abyssal Art.
A forbidden technique of his own creation.
Rather than gentle refinent, it devoured dense, destructive forces from the outside world and crushed them directly into the dantian, forging an artificial core of terrifying weight.
Yan Shuo pressed his palms firmly against the surface of the Star-Core.
BOOM!
Golden Qi erupted from his body, wrapping around the black mass like a radiant net.
The Star-Core resisted imdiately. As the heaviest substance within the mortal realm, it rejected absorption. A crushing gravitational force surged outward, rushing up Yan Shuo’s arms and slamming into his ridians.
It was as though a mountain had descended upon his chest. His bones groaned under the strain, on the verge of shattering.
A lesser cultivator would have perished instantly.
Yan Shuo rely bared his teeth in a grim smile.
"You are but a stone," he said coldly. "And I... am a Demon Lord. Submit."
He inhaled sharply.
The golden net contracted violently. Under unimaginable pressure, the indestructible Star-Core trembled—then slowly began to liquefy.
Streams of thick, black energy flowed into Yan Shuo’s body, clashing violently with his golden Qi.
Pain tore through his ridians. The energy was so dense it felt as though molten iron coursed through his veins. Without hesitation, he guided it into his dantian, where it collided with the pool of golden Qi.
The result was catastrophic.
A storm of conflicting energies erupted within him. Golden light resisted the encroaching darkness, but Yan Shuo forced them together.
Smaller.
Tighter.
Denser.
His skin darkened to a bruised violet hue. Blood seeped from his lips. The very air warped under the imnse gravitational force emanating from his body.
CRUSH.
With a final act of will, Yan Shuo compressed the chaotic energies into a single point at the center of his dantian.
Silence fell.
All light, sound, and spiritual energy were drawn inward.
Where once there had been a pool of golden Qi, there now existed a perfectly smooth, pitch-black sphere.
An Abyssal Core.
Yan Shuo opened his eyes.
A suffocating pressure spread throughout the chamber. His body felt utterly transford—no longer fragile, but forged into sothing dense and unyielding.
He felt as though he could seize a flying sword with his bare hands and shatter it with his teeth.
He had stepped into the Core Formation realm.
And his foundation was so terrifyingly heavy that even a Nascent Soul expert might fall to a single strike.
"Excellent," Yan Shuo murmured, wiping the blood from his chin.
He circulated a simple orthodox technique, cloaking the abyss within his dantian beneath a thin layer of golden Qi. To any observer, he would appear as nothing more than a newly advanced Core Formation cultivator.
Rising to his feet, he adjusted his robes and rolled his shoulders.
It was ti to return to his idle life.
When Yan Shuo stepped back into the courtyard, three days had passed.
Nothing had changed.
Su i stood in the sa place, still clad in burlap, her eyes sunken as she tirelessly swept an already spotless tile.
Tantai Zhi sat upon the veranda, exactly as before.
The mont the doors opened, she leapt forward.
"Husband!" she called, rushing toward him like a streak of crimson light.
She threw herself into his embrace with full force.
This ti, Yan Shuo did not move at all.
He stood firm as a mountain.
Tantai Zhi blinked, pulling back slightly. "Husband... you feel different."
"I have advanced to Core Formation," Yan Shuo said gently, holding her waist. "My foundation has grown sowhat sturdier. The seclusion was fruitful."
"Core Formation?!" Tantai Zhi exclaid, her eyes shining with pride. "In only three days?! Husband is the greatest genius beneath the heavens! I shall prepare a grand feast!"
Not far away, Su i had stopped moving.
Her exhausted gaze fell upon Yan Shuo—and for the briefest mont, her Heavenly Fox senses pierced through his disguise.
She did not see a golden core.
She saw a black hole.
A dense, devouring abyss that swallowed all light and exuded a terror capable of crushing worlds.
Su i let out a faint squeak.
Her vision darkened and she collapsed onto the jade tiles.
Yan Shuo glanced at her, then back at his wife.
"It seems your gaze has frightened the new servant into unconsciousness, Wife," he said lightly.
"She is far too fragile," Tantai Zhi replied dismissively, leaning against him. "Leave her there. I will prepare soup for you."
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