"Whew!"
After half a day, having gathered all his negative emotions into a single torrent and poured them onto Zi Yan, Hun Changqing let out a long breath.
With his mood soothed, Hun Changqing's mind was now clear, as though he were a sage. He looked at Zi Yan, who was kneeling on the bed, fully dressed again and rubbing her aching jaw with her two fair little hands. Raising an eyebrow, he asked,
"Why are you the only one here? Where's Feng Qing'er?"
Zi Yan did not answer immediately. Instead, she rubbed her throat, which still hurt and itched a little, then cast Hun Changqing a reproachful look, as though complaining about how rough he had been earlier.
"Ahem!"
Only after her throat had gradually recovered did Zi Yan cough lightly twice and speak.
"That bird seemed to have some urgent business back home and was called back at short notice. She looked pretty anxious, but she was afraid of disturbing you, so she didn't send you a message. She just told me and hurried off."
A trace of understanding appeared in Hun Changqing's eyes. He nodded thoughtfully and gave it no further consideration. Slowly sitting up in bed, he took a snowy white robe from his storage ring and draped it over his still-exposed body, which was as fair and fine as mutton-fat jade, smooth and lustrous.
In the blink of an eye, he became an elegant young gentleman, noble and untouched by worldly dust, like an immortal banished from the heavens.
The Breath Concealment Technique quietly circulated within Hun Changqing, once again turning him into the Venerable Mu everyone knew. After briefly tidying himself up, he looked at Zi Yan and said,
"Let's go. Things are about to get chaotic at the Pill Tower. We shouldn't linger