297: Chapter 297 Past Events Like Smoke

On the afternoon of the third day, Hun Feng enjoyed a rare moment of leisure, accompanying his family in the flower hall for tea and chess. Cai Lin and Qing Yanjing were playing a game of Go; black and white stones interlaced on the board. Both possessed calm temperaments, and they had been playing for half an hour without a winner. Yao Yao reclined lazily on a soft couch nearby, boredly playing with her bone whip, occasionally leaning over to offer Qing Yanjing advice, only to be glared back by Cai Lin each time. Xun'er sat by the window brewing tea, while Yun Yun and Cao Ying watched the game from the side. Xiao Yi Xian sat in a corner, quietly flipping through a leisure book. Zi Yan and Hun Qinger were playing a fast-paced game at another table, their pieces falling like flying stars; Hun Qinger had won three games in a row, making Zi Yan's golden pupils round with frustration. Among the seven daughters, some gathered around the chessboards while others chatted nearby; Hun Mulan dozed off with her head on Hun Muqing's lap. The fragrance of tea and the sound of laughter intertwined in the flower hall, creating a lazy and cozy atmosphere.

Hun Feng leaned back in the main seat holding a teacup, looking left at the match between Cai Lin and Qing Yanjing, and right at the tragic scene of Zi Yan being utterly routed by Hun Qinger, a satisfied smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. This was the life he wanted—wife, kids, and a warm bed, drinking tea and playing chess when free; it was much better than all the fighting and killing.

The sound of footsteps came from outside the hall, and Hun You walked in quickly. Her green dress was neat, and her expression remained cool and composed, though the corners of her mouth curved slightly. "Hall Master, the guests have arrived."

Hun Feng set down his teacup and stood up, straightening his robes. This movement caused everyone in the flower hall to look up at him. Yao Yao sat up from the soft couch, a flash of curiosity in her peach-blossom eyes. Only Xun'er noticed the slight pause when Hun Feng stood—a small habit he only had when meeting someone special.

"Please, bring them in," Hun Feng said.

Hun You turned and went out, returning a moment later leading three people into the flower hall. The man leading them wore a black robe, his figure tall and straight, his face resolute, and his brow carrying the steadiness of one who had weathered many storms. The woman in red beside him had a slender figure, her long hair pinned in a matron's bun, and her eyes held a hint of hostility. Following behind them was a boy of twelve or thirteen, whose features were seventy percent similar to the black-robed man, curiously eyeing the furnishings of the flower hall.

The air in the flower hall froze in that instant.

Cai Lin's hand holding a chess piece paused for a fleeting moment in mid-air before she continued her move as if nothing had happened. Yao Yao reclined on the couch, her peach-blossom eyes narrowing slightly as she twirled her bone whip, a playful smile appearing on her lips. Yun Yun and Cao Ying both looked toward the door, a flash of surprise in their eyes. Xiao Yi Xian looked up from her book to glance at the three people at the door before lowering her head to continue reading.

Gu Xun'er's hand, which was currently pouring tea, stopped. The teapot hung in mid-air as scalding tea poured from the spout, nearly overflowing the cup. She quickly set the teapot down, her fingertips tightening slightly on the handle. Her gentle, clear eyes fell upon the black-robed man, and something deep within her pupils trembled slightly. Xiao Yan. The person she once called "Brother Xiao Yan." The boy who practiced in the back courtyard of the Xiao Family in Wutan City, the young man who fought side-by-side with her at Jia Nan Academy, the man she once had a marriage contract with. Now he stood before her, his face much more mature than back then, with traces of time on his brow, standing beside a woman in red and a boy of twelve or thirteen. Those memories hadn't been revisited for a long time, so long that she thought she had forgotten. But seeing Xiao Yan now, those images surfaced clearly again. Her fingers tightened on the teapot handle, then relaxed. Her heart already belonged to the man standing before her.

Among the seven sisters, only Hun Muxiao set down her teacup. Now in her twenties, her fiery red celestial dress outlined mature, full curves, and her reddish-brown eyes stared at Xiao Yan for quite a while. She naturally recognized this person—Xiao Yan, the former Flame Emperor, who had been defeated by her father's hand in the Battle of the Two Emperors over a decade ago. At that time, she was only twelve or thirteen, hiding behind her mother to steal a glance at him from afar. Now he was older, with a few white hairs at his temples, but the stubbornness in his eyes remained.

Xiao Yan stood at the entrance of the flower hall, his gaze sweeping across the room full of women and young girls.

Cai Lin—the Snake-People Tribe Queen with whom he once had a history in the Tager Desert. She sat before the chessboard, her purple snake pupils focused intently on the game, not even sparing him a glance from the corner of her eye. She was still as cold and peerlessly beautiful as ever, time having left almost no mark on her face. A golden crown sat properly atop her head, and her white-gold battle dress outlined her slender yet full figure. Her heart already belonged entirely to another man; she didn't even find it necessary to look at him. Xiao Yan's hand tightened slightly within his sleeve.

Yao Yao—that little maidservant who was by Hun Feng's side back then was now an Immortal Grade Heavenly Supreme, reclining on the soft couch and looking at him with a half-smile, her peach-blossom eyes showing no trace of the past, only the playfulness of watching a good show. Xiao Yan's gaze swept over Yun Yun, Cao Ying, and Xiao Yi Xian—these women had all had more or less intersection with him. Yun Yun had shared a hazy affection with him in the Magical Beast Mountain Range, but now she held her teacup with lowered eyes, not even looking at him; Cao Ying was once the enchantress of the Pill Tower who had dealt with him several times, but now she sat behind Hun Feng, her phoenix eyes full of curiosity and scrutiny; Xiao Yi Xian—the girl with the Calamity Poison Body who ran a pharmacy in Qingshan Town, whom he had once carried across mountains to seek medicine, now sat in a corner quietly flipping through a book, her white hair falling to cover half her face, never looking up at him from start to finish.

These women were once his confidantes. Some had fought by his side, some had shared life's hardships with him, some had marriage contracts with him, and some had shed tears for him. Now they all sat beside another man, having become his wives and bearing his children, not even bothering to look at him. Xiao Yan's fist clenched tighter and tighter within his sleeve, his knuckles cracking, and the veins on the back of his hand bulging. His breathing became heavy, his chest heaving violently, his teeth clenched, and his jawline pulled tight.

In this moment, he remembered too much—remembering the stunning first sight of Cai Lin in the Tager Desert, remembering that night of passion with her within the Fallen Heart Flame; remembering what Xun'er said to him at Jia Nan Academy: "Brother Xiao Yan, I will always wait for you"; remembering Yun Yun at the Cloud Mist Sect defying Yun Shan's orders for his sake; remembering the events of the Pill Gathering; remembering Xiao Yi Xian leaning on his shoulder in Qingshan Town saying, "You must come back alive." Those images were like countless thorns stabbing into the deepest part of his heart. Now they were all Hun Feng's women. He had lost; even the confidantes who once had feelings for him had all become Hun Feng's wives. What did this feel like? This was the feeling of being uprooted, of even his memories being stolen away.

His gaze finally fell upon the young woman wearing the fiery red celestial dress. Mu Xiao—his daughter. Now she was an Immortal Grade Heavenly Supreme, grown into a graceful and beautiful woman, with hints of Cai Lin in her features and hints of him as well. With twin swords at her waist, she sat there with a natural sharpness and elegance. But her surname was Hun, not Xiao. Her name was Hun Muxiao, and she called Hun Feng "Dad."

Xiao Yan suddenly relaxed his fist. It wasn't because he had come to terms with it, but because he finally understood a fact—he would never have the chance to be his rival again in this life. It wasn't a gap in strength, but rather these people around him, these women he had once cherished, possessed, and lost; their own hearts had already made a choice. No matter how tight he clenched his fist or how hard it was, he could not change this fact.

He slowly loosened his hand, his knuckles slightly pale from the prolonged clenching. His breathing gradually calmed, the heaving of his chest stabilized, and his clenched teeth relaxed. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the unwillingness and anger in them had mostly faded, replaced by a heavy, bittersweet sense of relief.

All of this was witnessed by Qing Yanjing.

She held her teacup and hadn't said a word from start to finish, but her amber phoenix eyes took in every subtle change in Xiao Yan. She saw the hesitation in his steps when he entered, saw the tremor in his pupils as he scanned the women in the hall, saw the bulging veins on his hand when he clenched his fist, and saw that heavy relief when he let go. She felt as if she were watching a very interesting old story—this man was once the protagonist of this world and once held the hearts of these women, but now he was merely a passerby. And the one who had taken all these women was none other than her husband. She picked up her teacup and took a light sip, a faint smile appearing on the corners of her lips. In that smile was understanding, sentiment, and a trace of inexplicable pride. This fellow Hun Feng was truly quite a character.

Hun Muxiao suddenly spoke. She tilted her head to look at Xiao Yan, a flash of irritation in her reddish-brown eyes, her tone carrying a hint of teasing: "Uncle Xiao Yan, why are you looking at me like that? With the expression of a kind old father. I'm not your daughter. My dad is sitting right there; with that expression, be careful or my mom might beat you up."

Cai Lin's hand placing a piece paused for a moment; she raised her purple snake eyes to look at Mu Xiao, her voice cold: "Mu Xiao, a visitor is a guest." She did not look at Xiao Yan once. It wasn't intentional avoidance; there was simply nothing left to see.

Xiao Yan was silent for a breath, then nodded slightly to Mu Xiao, his voice hoarse: "You've grown up. You're living well."

"My dad treats me very well." Mu Xiao picked up her teacup and took a sip, her tone light, but there was no malice in her reddish-brown eyes. She had only one father—the man who had brought her and her mother to the Soul Realm when she was five, who taught her how to hold a sword hand-in-hand, who stood alone against eighteen Evil Race Heavenly Supremes during the South Sea War, and who overturned the Ancestral Tower with a single spear in the Futu Realm.

Tang Huo'er tightened her grip on Xiao Yan's hand and pulled Xiao Lin closer to her side. She hadn't forgotten how Hun Feng had "entertained" Xiao Yan back then; she coldly scanned the room full of women, her tone carrying undisguised sharpness: "Hall Master Hun truly has good fortune. A harem in groups, beautiful women like clouds—you certainly haven't mistreated yourself."

Hun Feng smiled and personally led Xiao Yan's family of three to their seats, then took the freshly brewed tea from Xun'er's hand and poured a cup for Xiao Yan, his posture composed and without any airs. Tang Huo'er looked at the tea before her, remaining silent for a long while before picking it up to take a sip. The tea was warm, but it tasted a bit bitter.

Sitting in this Spirit Hall flower hall, which was countless times stronger than the Hall of Souls back then, Xiao Yan looked at the room full of Heavenly Supremes and Saint Grade experts, feeling the sound waves of hundreds of thousands of disciples practicing outside the window. He suddenly remembered the words Hun Feng had said to him in Wutan City—"You and I are both transmigrators; we should have been of the same kind." At that time, he felt this person was just lucky. Now he suddenly understood—it wasn't luck. It was that this person knew what he wanted from the very beginning and walked toward that direction without hesitation.

He stood up and raised his teacup, gesturing toward Hun Feng, his voice deep and frank: "Brother Hun, I admit my defeat at your hands. Seeing Spirit Hall today, seeing these people—some gaps cannot be closed by time. This cup of tea shall be my toast to you."

Hun Feng also stood up and clinked his teacup against the other's: "Brother Xiao, there's no need to mention the past. Since you've come, stay for a while. I have plenty of rooms; your family of three can stay as long as you like."

The two of them tilted their heads and drained their cups. The tea was warm, yet it entered like strong wine.

Qing Yanjing set down her teacup and glanced at Hun Feng. In that look was scrutiny, curiosity, and a faint trace of admiration—this man truly had something. To be able to turn other people's confidantes into his own wives and make the man he took everything from drink tea and toast him in his own home—this ability was harder to cultivate than his Saint Grade cultivation.