Su Mei, the former 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 Mei, 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 Mei, unblinking, following her every movement 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 Mei trembled violently. She did not merely 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 garment.
"F-Forgive this servant, Supreme Goddess!" Su Mei stammered, 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 Mei cried, wildly swinging her broom at empty space.
Within her heart, Su Mei wept blood. She was a Heavenly Fox, a being meant 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 moment, 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 fearsome 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 somewhat pale. Was the bed uncomfortable? I will have the craftsmen 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 merely feel some 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 meridians 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 method. 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 method never fails.
"I am grateful, Wife," Yan Shuo said. His gaze drifted toward the trembling figure in burlap. "Besides, someone must watch over our new servant. Ensure she does not grow careless during my seclusion."
Tantai Zhi slowly turned her head toward Su Mei. Her golden eyes narrowed into chilling slits.
"Rest assured, Husband," she said softly, her tone carrying a quiet menace. "If that fox so much as breathes too loudly and disturbs your cultivation, I will bury her beneath the mountain."
Su Mei 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 meditation 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 moment 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 metal 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 Establishment 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 extreme caution.
Yan Shuo had neither time nor patience for such methods.
"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 refinement, 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 immediately. 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 meridians.
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 merely 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 meridians. 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 immense 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 transformed—no longer fragile, but forged into something 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 time to return to his idle life.
When Yan Shuo stepped back into the courtyard, three days had passed.
Nothing had changed.
Su Mei stood in the same 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 moment 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 time, 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 somewhat sturdier. The seclusion was fruitful."
"Core Formation?!" Tantai Zhi exclaimed, 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 Mei had stopped moving.
Her exhausted gaze fell upon Yan Shuo—and for the briefest moment, 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 Mei 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."