123: Chapter 123 Three Female Warriors

The first night, Yao Yao.

When Hun Feng pushed open the door to Yao Yao's room, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the newly replaced skulls on her bone whip. Hearing the door, she looked up, a hint of mischief flashing in her peach-blossom eyes. She set the bone whip on the headboard and hopped off the bed barefoot, walking a few steps to him before standing on her tiptoes, hooking her arms around his neck. The silver bells on her ankles jingled with her movements. The slit of her long black dress was high, revealing her fair, slender legs. She tilted her head to look at Hun Feng, her peach-blossom eyes filled with both coquettishness and triumph: "You kept your word, coming to me first. Since you're here, let me see what you're capable of, my husband."

Hun Feng reached out to wrap his arm around her waist, lowering his head to lightly bite her lip. Yao Yao let out a muffled groan, then immediately bit him back without backing down, her tongue carrying the sweet scent of fruit wine. Hun Feng lifted her off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, the silver bells on her ankles jingling rapidly. As he laid her on the bed and pressed down, her fingers had already undone the ties of his robe, moving with the familiarity of someone who had done it countless times. The candlelight by the bed was extinguished by a flick of her palm, and in the darkness, only the faint, intermittent jingling of the silver bells remained. She whispered into his ear, "Don't you dare call out that you're tired tonight," her voice soft and alluring, like a blade wrapped in honey. Hun Feng lowered his head to seal her lips, telling her with his actions—in front of her, he would never call out that he was tired.

The second night, Xiao Yi Xian.

Xiao Yi Xian's room was on the far west side of the East Courtyard, with the garden she tended herself right outside the window. When Hun Feng pushed the door open, she was leaning against the headboard. Hearing the door, she looked up with those cool, aloof eyes, then set down her book and stood up. She wasn't wearing her usual plain white dress today; instead, she had changed into a very thin, pale purple gauze dress. Her white hair was loosely pinned up with a jade hairpin, with a few stray strands falling against her snow-white neck. Hun Feng walked up to her and gently lifted her chin, making her look at him. Her eyelashes were long and slightly lowered, and her expression remained as indifferent as frost, but a faint flush had already crept up her earlobes.

"Xian'er, it's your turn tonight." His voice was very low, as if sharing a secret only the two of them knew.

Xiao Yi Xian lifted her eyes to look at him, a trace of a faint smile flashing in those usually cold eyes. She raised her hand to gently press down on the hand he had placed on her chin; her fingertips were slightly cool. Her voice remained as unhurried and composed as ever, but with an added layer of tenderness that only he could understand: "I knew you would come. I've been waiting for you for two days."

Hun Feng raised an eyebrow slightly, pulling her closer into his embrace: "Two days? Then why didn't you come find me?"

"You are my husband; naturally, you should be the one to come find me." Xiao Yi Xian said it as a matter of course, but the blush on her earlobes deepened. She paused, then added, "I saw you walking with Xun'er and Cai Lin during the day these past few days, and you had to review battle reports at night, so I didn't want to disturb you. But tonight—since you're here, don't even think about leaving."

Hun Feng looked down at her, realizing that although she still maintained that cool and indifferent appearance, her tone and what she said were completely different from before. She was no longer that silent, lonely woman who shut herself away in the shadow of the Calamity Poison Body, but someone who would express herself, get jealous, and tell him in this understated way, "I've been waiting for you for several days." He pulled her from the headboard into his arms and lowered his head to kiss her lips. Her lips were cool, carrying a faint, crisp scent, like the clean air after the snow clears. Her fingers clenched the fabric on his shoulder, the grip light but never letting go. He kissed her slowly and deeply, as if savoring a cup of fine tea that had been aged for years. Her breathing gradually lost its rhythm, and her fingers, which had been clutching his clothes, slowly loosened and climbed up to his neck. She stood on her tiptoes, actively deepening the kiss; those usually indifferent eyes were now filled with passion, no longer concealing anything.

Hun Feng gently laid her down on the bed. The pale purple gauze dress slipped off silently, and her white hair spread across the silk pillow. Moonlight leaked in through the cracks in the window frame, landing on her bare shoulders, casting a warm, ivory-like glow. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, asking if she had missed him after waiting for two days. Xiao Yi Xian did not answer; she simply raised her hands to cup his face and kissed him back. This kiss was more intense than the last; she was no longer the passive one who needed his guidance, but a woman truly willing to surrender herself completely. Her fingers traced lightly across his back, leaving a few very faint red marks, and a few soft words spilled from her lips: "Tonight... you are not allowed to leave."

The third night, Yun Yun.

It was the third night when Hun Feng pushed open the door to Yun Yun's room. Yun Yun was sitting in front of her vanity, her hair already let down, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders. The collar of her moon-white nightgown was slightly open, revealing a delicate collarbone. The candlelight cast a faint shadow on her face, making her elegant and ethereal features appear even softer. She watched him enter through the bronze mirror, her lips curving slightly as she picked up a comb to unhurriedly comb the ends of her hair. Hun Feng walked behind her and took the comb from her hand to brush her hair for her. His movements were still a bit clumsy—he had never truly learned how to brush a woman's hair—but his touch was very light, for fear of pulling a single strand of her hair.

Yun Yun watched his focused yet clumsy profile in the mirror and suddenly let out a soft laugh. The laughter was light, like the delicate tinkling sound of wind blowing through a field of ghost bell orchids. Hun Feng looked up and met her gaze in the mirror, asking what she was laughing at. She said she was laughing at how he had been brushing women's hair for so many years, yet his technique was still so unpracticed. Hun Feng raised an eyebrow and said that from now on, he would come to brush her hair every night until he was proficient. Yun Yun curved her lips slightly without responding, merely lowering her eyelashes to look at her hands folded on her lap.

After brushing her hair, Hun Feng pulled her up from the vanity and led her to the bed to sit down. Moonlight leaked in through the cracks in the window frame, falling on her profile. She still maintained that dignified and composed appearance, but Hun Feng noticed her fingers, folded on her lap, were unconsciously rubbing her knuckles—a small habit she only had when she was nervous. He sat down beside her and reached out to cover the back of her hand.

"Yun'er, what are you worried about?" His voice was very soft, carrying a rare patience.

Yun Yun was silent for a long while before finally looking up at him. Those eyes, clear as orchids, were surging with incredibly complex emotions—anticipation, anxiety, and a trace of inferiority she herself was unwilling to admit. Her fingers curled slightly in his palm, as if drawing courage.

"Husband, do you think... a woman of my age... can really still conceive?" Her voice was very light, so light it was almost drowned out by the rustling of the dark-leaf osmanthus leaves in the night wind outside the window. She was nearly forty. Among the women in the East Courtyard who had been pregnant, Gu Xun'er had just turned thirty, the prime of a woman's life; Cao Ying was over a decade younger than her, and Yao Yao and Xiao Yi Xian were not even thirty. Only she had married into the Hun family near the age of forty. She had been the Sect Leader of the Flower Sect, the master of Nalan Yanran; these identities seemed glorious to outsiders, but before those young wives, her age had become a thorn buried deep in her heart. She didn't mention it usually, but that didn't mean the thorn didn't exist.

Hun Feng remained silent for a moment after hearing her words. Then, he reached out and pulled her up from the edge of the bed, his strength neither too light nor too heavy, but enough to make her fall into his arms unexpectedly. She instinctively tried to push herself up, but he held her firmly in his arms with one hand, unable to move. He looked down into her eyes, his tone serious and firm, with a touch of overbearingness that brooked no argument: "Yun Yun, you listen to me carefully. You are my, Hun Feng's, lawfully wedded wife. I didn't marry you out of pity or sympathy; I genuinely like you as a person—I like your dignity, I like your composure, and I like the gentleness of your fingers through my hair when you brush it. What does age matter? None of the women by my side will grow old—when I break through in the future, shatter the plane barrier, and let the Source Qi of the Great Thousand World enter my body, eternal youth will be nothing more than an easy feat. By then, you can have as many children as you want, and for as long as you want."

He lowered his head and lightly bit her lip, not hard, just enough to make her let out a muffled groan. His voice lowered a few degrees, carrying a possessiveness that only she could understand: "Now, take back what you just said. Say that you will definitely be able to conceive."

Yun Yun's lips were slightly reddened by his bite, and her eyes were also a bit red. Looking at the unquestionable certainty in his eyes, the thorn in her heart felt as if it had been gently pulled out by a warm hand. She raised her hands to cup his face and kissed him. This kiss was no longer the composed and restrained tasting of before, but an intense and demanding one after truly letting herself go. Her fingers ran through his black hair, pulling him toward her. Her moon-white nightgown had slipped from her shoulders at some point, piling around her waist. Her body leaned back slightly, pulling him down onto the bed with her. Her long hair spread across the silk pillow, forming a waterfall of ink. Her breathing was rapid and hot, and a few soft moans that had been suppressed for a long time escaped her lips. She was no longer the dignified and restrained Sect Leader of the Flower Sect, no longer the Yun Yun who hid all her emotions behind a mask of composure, but a woman finally willing to surrender herself completely.

Hun Feng leaned over to her ear, his voice low and hoarse: "This is the real you, my woman—dignity is for outsiders to see; in front of me, you can be however you want."

Yun Yun lifted her eyes, filled with passion, to look at him, reaching out to pull him toward her, and whispered in her ear, "Then let me conceive your child." She said this softly and gently, yet it was more intense than any love words. Hun Feng lowered his head to seal her lips, the blood-red light of the Heaven-Slaying Flame silently flowing around them, enveloping the entire bedchamber in a faint, warm glow. Outside the window, the moonlight deepened, and the leaves of the dark-leaf osmanthus rustled in the night wind. The occasional soft moans from inside the room intertwined with the slight creaking of the bed, only gradually subsiding in the dead of night.

Hun Feng leaned against the headboard, with Yun Yun curled up in his arms, her long hair spread messily across his chest. A flush still lingered on her face, and those eyes, usually so dignified and composed, were half-closed, lazy as a satisfied cat. She raised her hand to lightly draw circles on his chest and suddenly said softly: "Husband, thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?"

"Thank you for making me feel that it's not too late, and that I'm still worthy of being loved." Her voice was very soft, but there was no longer that inferiority and anxiety in her tone; instead, it was replaced by a sense of peace and certainty she had never felt before. Hun Feng lowered his head to plant a kiss on the top of her head, pulling her even tighter into his arms. Outside, the night wind brushed over the garden, sending a few faint floral scents into the room. She closed her eyes and drifted into a deep sleep in his arms, a faint, faint smile still hanging on the corners of her lips.