125: Chapter 125 Tempering the Soul

At the bottom of the Soul Burial Abyss, there were no sun, moon, or stars, no wind, no rain. There was only endless darkness and surging vengeful spirits.

Hun Feng sat cross-legged on that protruding black boulder, the blood-red radiance of the Heaven-Slaying Flame spreading around him to form a faint light barrier, completely isolating the vengeful spirits that attempted to surge in from all directions.

It had been many days since he jumped into this abyss, but the flow of time at the bottom seemed different from the outside—here, every moment was drawn out, and every breath had to endure the corrosion of countless resentful thoughts.

His Emperor Realm Soul had long since spread out like an invisible net, shrouding the entire bottom of the abyss.

Those vengeful spirits were all powerhouses killed by the Hun Clan during their lifetimes; for thousands of years, their resentment had not dissipated, and by devouring and merging with each other, they had long since become evil spirits that knew only slaughter and curses.

Upon sensing the aura of a living person, they would surge forward frantically like sharks smelling blood, each one carrying deep resentment.

Hun Feng raised his hand and grasped a vengeful spirit rushing toward him in his palm. The blood-red flame of the Heaven-Slaying Flame instantly enveloped it, and the purifying power of the Purification Lotus Demon Flame stripped away the lingering obsessions within the spirit layer by layer. The shrill shrieks gradually dissipated within the flames, leaving only a faint, pure strand of soul origin that flowed into his Dantian through his palm.

At the beginning, this process was not smooth.

The number of vengeful spirits far exceeded his expectations. Although the Heaven-Slaying Flame could purify their resentment, every purification consumed his soul power.

Moreover, the vengeful spirits at the bottom of the abyss seemed endless—just as he finished devouring a batch during the day, more would surge up from the depths at night, like locusts that could never be killed off.

Once, he was entangled by dozens of vengeful spirits at the same time. Those twisted soul bodies frantically bit at his soul barrier, their resentment trying to seep in like venom.

He pushed the Heaven-Slaying Flame to its limit and swept out with a blood spear, annihilating all the vengeful spirits. However, after that battle, he leaned against the boulder and panted for a long time, the shrill shrieks of the vengeful spirits still lingering in his sea of consciousness.

An Emperor Realm Soul was merely an admission ticket at the bottom of this abyss; what truly allowed him to survive was his will.

Days passed by, day after day, in devouring and refining.

Hun Feng gradually figured out the activity patterns of the vengeful spirits—every so often, a "Resentment Tide" would surge up from the depths of the abyss. At that time, the number and strength of the vengeful spirits would skyrocket, but as long as he could withstand the Resentment Tide, there would be a few days of relative calm afterward.

He treated the Resentment Tide as a whetstone for tempering his soul. Every time the Resentment Tide struck, he would take the initiative to meet it head-on, pushing his Emperor Realm Soul to the limit to clash directly with the countless vengeful spirits.

Every act of devouring and refining was an ultimate test of his will. Those vengeful spirits turned into the purest soul origin within the Heaven-Slaying Flame, flowing into his Dantian and sea of consciousness.

Under this near-masochistic method of cultivation, the cracks in the bottleneck of the late Eight-Star stage became more numerous and denser.

He began to lose track of the passage of time, simply and mechanically repeating the process of devouring, refining, and absorbing, then devouring, refining, and absorbing again.

Occasionally, during the brief calm when the Resentment Tide receded, he would lean against the boulder and close his eyes to rest, the appearance of the East Courtyard surfacing in his mind—Yao Yao probably walked around the study entrance holding her waist every day, only remembering he was still in the abyss when she found the study empty; Xiao Yi Xian was probably embroidering sachets again, wondering how many she had embroidered; Yun Yun was probably helping Cao Ying look after the children, her technique becoming increasingly proficient; Cao Ying and Gu Xun'er should have mostly recovered from childbirth by now; and Cai Lin should be giving birth soon.

He lowered his head to look at the blood-red flames circulating in his palm, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Soon, it would be soon.

Soul Realm, East Courtyard. Hun Feng had been gone for over half a year. Many things had happened in the East Courtyard during these six months.

Medusa's due date was only two months away; her belly was very large, and her movements were no longer very convenient.

Yet, she remained the steadiest anchor of the East Courtyard, leaning on a soft couch every day to read the letters sent by the Snake-People Tribe. Occasionally, when Hun Muxiao lay by her knees talking to the younger brother or sister in her belly, a faint smile would appear at the corner of her mouth.

Cao Ying and Gu Xun'er had completely recovered their figures after childbirth.

Cao Ying remained as enchanting and bright as ever, holding her daughter in the courtyard to bask in the sun every day. Occasionally, when teased by Yao Yao, "You have such a good figure even after having a child," she would smile and reply, "Sister Yao Yao, you'll be the same soon."

Gu Xun'er remained the dignified and elegant young lady, carrying Hun Muxian for walks in the back corridor every day. The little one was now over half a year old; her jade-like, delicately carved face was becoming increasingly exquisite. Her eyebrows and eyes looked very much like her mother's, but those lively eyes faintly held a hint of Hun Feng's spirit.

Gu Xun'er would sit by the stone table for a while every day, looking in the direction of the courtyard gate in silence for a moment.

When Yao Yao asked her if she missed her husband, she never denied it, only saying softly that in a place like the Soul Burial Abyss, she didn't know if he had lost weight.

The bellies of Yao Yao, Xiao Yi Xian, and Yun Yun were all visibly swollen.

The three of them had become pregnant almost at the same time, and even the frequency of their morning sickness was similar. Yao Ling was so busy every day that she barely touched the ground, taking pulses, prescribing miscarriage-prevention formulas, and giving instructions on dietary restrictions one by one.

After becoming pregnant, Yao Yao remained energetic, walking back and forth in the courtyard every day while holding her waist, unable to sit still.

Xiao Yi Xian remained the same unhurried and composed person, leaning on a soft couch and quietly embroidering sachets. She had already embroidered several, saying she wanted to embroider one for every child.

Yun Yun was the furthest along in her pregnancy, and her movements were no longer very convenient, so Cao Ying volunteered to take care of her daily life, returning the favor by serving her tea and water, doing everything for her that she had previously done for herself.

That evening, Hun Feng's six wives sat around the stone table.

Hun Muxiao was playing under the corridor with Hun Muying, while Hun Muxian was held in Gu Xun'er's arms, waving her little fists and babbling.

The setting sun spilled down through the gaps in the branches and leaves of the dark-leaf osmanthus, the mottled light and shadow gently swaying on the stone table.

Yao Yao suddenly blurted out, "Counting the days, my husband has been in the Soul Burial Abyss for almost seven months. I wonder when he will come out."

Medusa's fingers, which were turning the letter, paused slightly, and the hand with which Gu Xun'er was holding her daughter stopped for an instant.

Cao Ying took up the conversation and said, "It should be soon. My husband said before he left that he wouldn't come out until he broke through to the Nine-Star stage. With his ability, the Soul Burial Abyss cannot trap him."

Yun Yun gently stroked her swollen abdomen and said softly, "He will come back. He knows that there are people at home waiting for him."

Xiao Yi Xian put down the sachet in her hand, her voice soft but firm: "What he is best at is turning the tables in desperate situations. It was like that before, and this time will be no exception."

It was quiet by the stone table for a moment, then Medusa took the lead in picking up her teacup to break the silence, her voice flat but every word clear: "Don't let your imaginations run wild. He promised he would come back, so he will definitely come back."

The women nodded and continued with what they were doing—drinking tea or embroidering sachets—but everyone's gaze involuntarily swept past the stone path at the courtyard gate that led to the Northern Region of the Soul Realm.

They knew that the man was currently fighting countless vengeful spirits in the most dangerous abyss on the continent, and all they could do was guard this home and wait for him to return.