My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Chen Yi slept until the sun climbed high. He yawned and opened his eyes to see snowmelt stained on the paper window, damp and overdue for a change.

Another yawn escaped him. Still unaware of being seen as a predator, Chen Yi rubbed his nose and glanced downward at the bed where two women lay.

Though neither harbored willingness, both had ended up as his concubines.

Chen Yi felt delighted—this was indulgence on a scale he had never enjoyed before, a satisfaction entirely unfamiliar to him.

Even if the two women never liked him for their whole lives, Chen Yi only felt mild regret. To possess them for a lifetime was enough to fill him with joy.

The female crown in his arms twisted uneasily, evidently unaccustomed to his morning whims of wantonness, even in slumber.

With a casual glance, he noticed her eyes were so fatigued that she couldn't open them. He had no idea when she had fallen asleep—he only remembered it being very late.

Late enough that he was half-awake, while she still hadn't slept, seizing the moment to cautiously extricate herself from his embrace.

She was terrified—far more frightened of him than Yin Tingxue was. Her fear was so intense that lying in his arms made it impossible for her to sleep, no matter how utterly exhausted she was.

Yin Tingxue, for all her unease, would ultimately end up in his embrace after curling in the corner. But this one? She had already moved to the edge of the bed.

Chen Yi looked up and noticed—ah, during sleep, she even managed to roll off the bed entirely.

After a brief pause, Chen Yi forcibly pulled the female crown back into his arms.

Yin Weiyin awoke immediately. Catching sight of the familiar face before her eyes, her heart nearly stopped. On instinct, she tried to retreat, but Chen Yi held her waist firmly, refusing to let her leave.

Only after a long moment did the female crown finally stop resisting. She swallowed hard, shifted her gaze, and saw the young girl curled up in the corner—she couldn't imagine the terror of living as Yin Tingxue did, waking daily to find herself staring at Chen Yi.

Chen Yi ignored her trembling and instead reached out to place his hand upon her smooth abdomen.

The warmth of the bedding concealed her figure, but a downward glance revealed tantalizing hints—skin porcelain-white, flawless as jade, and her belly smooth and rounded yet delicate. Likely due to fasting practices, it bore no trace of excess flesh. As a Taoist of pure cultivation, she lacked even the faintest hint of muscle.

Yin Weiyin shrank away, but Chen Yi pressed against her spine, making her abdomen cling tightly to his hand. Despite their countless intimate touches, her ears still burned red. Clutching the quilt tightly, she bit her lip to suppress her discomfort.

Just as she was adapting to the situation somewhat, he uttered words that chilled her to the bone:

"Do you think… my child might be here?"

Chen Yi's voice carried neither sorrow nor joy.

Yin Weiyin pondered briefly before replying proactively, "No."

"Why?" Chen Yi asked, almost surprised.

"Practitioners of the Dao observe their bodies internally, with Primordial Qi flowing freely. They can subsist on mere wind and dew, naturally resolving… such impurities," Yin Weiyin explained, closing her eyes afterward.

Leaving aside the fact that she was the legitimate daughter of the Prince of Jing, even ordinary women from common households could secretly face severe punishment—or worse, hang themselves—should they bear the child of another man.

What's more, her heart was set on seeking the Dao and reaching eternal ascension. Her path inherently lay far from worldly ties; shedding such attachments ensured clarity of mind and resolution free from distractions. That way, one day, she could stand alone amid the heavens, with pure breeze and drifting orchid snow.

Under no circumstances could she conceive his child.

Seeming to see through her thoughts, Chen Yi smirked faintly but said nothing.

Whether she consented or not mattered little to him; her wishes never dictated his actions.

However, at that moment, Chen Yi decided he didn't want it.

As his hand caressed the warmth of her soft abdomen, Chen Yi's mind wandered to thoughts of the Prince—one remarkable woman.

He suddenly found it inconceivable.

He—a man among so many considerations—was now to have a child in this world.

And the one carrying his child was none other than his adversary, his deadliest enemy among all foes.

When those words escaped him earlier, he hadn't thought much—merely speaking in fleeting indulgence, as there existed nothing beyond hatred between them. It was only after that Bodhisattva-made drug turned the spoken into reality that he grasped its weight.

Because of this inexplicable emotion, Chen Yi had been lost in thought the entire journey back.

And that towering, steadfast woman—she was leaving now, heading out of the Capital City, returning to the Southern Border.

Should I meet her?

...............

This year's snow was heavy yet fleeting. After witnessing snowfall last night, it had already vanished by morning. The Chief of Staff's chambermaids missed seeing the picturesque scenery of snow upon palace walls, instead finding muddy grime everywhere along the roads.

In all her regal splendor, the Empress Dowager of Great Yu had first chosen to meet the three-year-old Emperor today. The child was raised under the care of a consort with no meaningful standing, her quarters akin to, yet not exactly, a cold palace. Several chambermaids accompanied the Empress Dowager there during this chilly season. After some casual conversation and gentle advice, she prepared to leave.

Unexpectedly, the consort, bold beyond words, knelt as the Empress Dowager's phoenix robe stepped out the door.

"Your Majesty, the young Emperor has grown, yet he spends all his days confined to this courtyard. Just a few days ago, I asked him what a fish was, and he didn't know. When I showed him a picture book and asked again, he pointed to cattle and sheep… I leap at your feet to humbly request your grace and allow a teacher of literacy for the young Emperor…"

The elder consort even began kowtowing fervently. Although the young Emperor wasn't her own flesh and blood, she had developed maternal affection after caring for him for so long. Now, she was risking half her life to fight for him.

Witnessing this scene, the chambermaids naturally felt a pang of sympathy and sighed in secret.

This elder consort clearly hadn't been in the deep palace long enough to understand the Empress Dowager's disposition. If she didn't handle this subtly—such as privately seeking a literate maidservant to teach the Emperor—even if trouble arose at some point, it would result in merely a minor reprimand within the Jingren Palace. Kneeling and speaking openly like this, however, was nothing short of reckless defiance. The lightest consequence would be derision for her lack of propriety; harsher judgment might see her accused of coercion.

But now that the matter had been voiced openly, there was no way the young Emperor could have anyone to educate him in literacy anymore.

As for the tactless consort, it was likely time for her to leave the palace and be married off.

With only a glance and a smile, the opulent Empress Dowager moved on without pausing.

In the silent palace, her chambermaids followed her departure, leaving only the sound of the elder consort's continued kowtows, unceasing.

That crisp morning, before royal petitions had even arrived, the phoenix robe wandered leisurely around Lianyin Lake. Calling for palace maids to toss bait into the water, Empress Dowager watched as hundreds of vibrant koi thrashed in celebration, their winter movement particularly delightful.

Lady-in-Waiting Su Xin approached slowly. After bowing respectfully from behind, she began reporting:

"Your Majesty, the Prince of Annan has sent another letter of inquiry—this will be the final one."

"Read it aloud for me later,"

The Empress Dowager replied without turning and then smiled toward a specific direction, asking:

"Wet nurse, has that matter been handled?"

An unnamed elderly nurse appeared, responding deeply, "It is done."

Staring at the koi frenzy, the Empress Dowager remarked softly:

"The Prince of Annan has flaunted his might long enough—it's time to test his resolve. If it can be done, see that his head rolls from his shoulders; it wouldn't be unwelcome."

The Prince of Annan had recently begun retreating his troops. Initially an aggressive charge, then faltering, finally exhausting his resources. The prolonged timeline made it evident—the retreat was genuine, and even if he reversed course for a surprise rear attack, he was destined only for disastrous defeat.

Looking at the koi leaping in wild flurries, the Empress Dowager thought of someone and spoke:

"That name's entry into the Spring and Autumn Annals should be expedited."

Lady-in-Waiting Su Xin had noticed that in private moments, the Empress Dowager had ceased mentioning Chen Qianhu by name, instead referring to him as "that person."

Upon hearing Chen Yi's name, Su Xin recalled the Zige Bureau and commented:

"Your Majesty, speaking of which, there's been a report—Zige Bureau Minister Chou Gang has been missing for days."

The Empress Dowager furrowed her brow faintly and gave a calm directive:

"Investigate urgently. As Minister, this cannot be taken lightly."

Su Xin immediately voiced her compliance before departing.

The Empress Dowager, having claimed a rare moment of tranquility to enjoy the koi spectacle, instructed her attendants to scatter more bait into the waters.

The lake surged, and the koi competed to leap.