"Murong Xie," Han Yu muttered during one of his chuckles, "you must be seething."
Each burst was potent, feeding his soul with high-quality Eight Emotions Energy, rich with frustration, humiliation, and impotent rage. It was a gift that kept on giving.
He didn't need to move a muscle—his enemies were cultivating for him.
By the end of the month, his soul sea had grown more stable. Though his spiritual qi hadn't yet reached the top of Late Stage of Qi Refining, his soul foundation had become noticeably firmer, subtly sharpening his perception and mental acuity.
He could feel his path to the next stage of cultivation beginning to take shape.
Then, just as he returned from a casual walk near the southern orchard gardens one early morning, his high-grade communication jade slip began to tremble faintly in his robe.
He paused beneath a flowering spirit peach tree and retrieved it.
