Hun Changqing was somewhat displeased that Xingxiu had messed up the figurines he had put a little care into making, but he did not dwell on it. These were only trifles, after all, merely a hobby of his. Compared with Saint Qianmu's cave abode, none of it mattered.
Hun Changqing reached the room and slowly pushed open the light wooden door. Inside, Xingxiu was sitting quietly beside the bed, gazing up at the scattered stars in the pitch-black night sky.
Hun Changqing noticed that Xingxiu was no longer wearing the slightly transparent black gauze he had left her before departing. Instead, she had changed into a close-fitting black dress, with wisps of faint black vapor swirling around her. After sensing her carefully, a thoughtful look appeared in his eyes.
Condensing Dou Qi into gauze? She really was the Soul Clan's genius from a hundred years ago. In just these few days, she's already broken through a little of my seal. If I hadn't damaged her bloodline beforehand, she probably would have broken free while I was still weakened.
Hun Changqing mused inwardly. Although he was a little surprised that Xingxiu had breached part of his seal and recovered some of her cultivation, it was nothing serious. He had long since passed his weakened phase and had even finished refining the Yin Soul Banner. Even if Xingxiu recovered her full strength, she would not be able to stir up any waves.
No longer dwelling on the little strength Xingxiu had recovered, Hun Changqing slowly approached her. Her expression was utterly cold, and she radiated an icy chill, like an enormous iceberg.
As he drew closer, Hun Changqing was surprised to discover that something about Xingxiu's bearing seemed slightly different from before. He could not quite put his finger on what had