Deep into the night, only the sound of steady breathing remained in the master bedroom of the Song-Style Courtyard House.
On the large bed, Song Qiuya and Qin Chuxia slept soundly, one on either side.
A lingering blush colored Song Qiuya's cool, aloof face, and weariness lingered at the corners of her eyes. Her neat short hair lay tousled across the pillow.
Qin Chuxia had one long leg sprawled imperiously outside the thin blanket. The corners of her lips curled slightly, as though she were having a lovely dream.
Chen Lin leaned against the headboard. The Taiyin Breathing Technique circulated automatically within him, and the spiritual power of the eleventh Qi Refining layer surged ceaselessly through his meridians, quickly replenishing the slight depletion left by his destruction of the aircraft carrier strike group that day.
He glanced at the clock on the wall.
Midnight.
The weekend had arrived again.
Chen Lin lifted the blanket and slipped silently out of bed.
Putting on a black dressing gown, he walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down over Chen Family Village, shrouded in mist beneath the active formation. Deep in the bamboo grove among the wooded hills, a faint Core Formation aura lay dormant. Lao Qing was recovering in seclusion there.
After confirming that everything outside was peaceful, Chen Lin withdrew his gaze and willed it.
The space before him abruptly distorted, and a pitch-black fissure tore open out of thin air. He stepped inside, and the fissure closed behind him, leaving the bedroom deathly silent once more.
The Myriad Worlds Garbage Transfer Station.
The vast, million-square-meter space was dim and deathly still, filled with all manner of indescribable odors.
Rotting timber, rusted swords and sabers, broken jade slips, and the bizarre carcasses of spirit beasts from the Cultivation World lay piled