My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Waiting for someone is undoubtedly one of the most tedious tasks in the world. Min Ning never liked waiting for anyone, but her martial skills were lacking, leaving her no choice but to wait.

She led her horse into the village, her throat parched. Knocking on the door of a household, she asked for a bowl of water. The farmer's wife, a gentle woman by nature, saw the young hero's Fly Fish uniform and quickly brought her a bowl of clear water.

Min Ning accepted the bowl and, turning her back, pulled a silver needle from her sleeve. Infusing it with a trace of True Qi, she dipped it into the water. Seeing no unusual ripples, she tucked the silver needle back into her sleeve and drank the clear water in one go.

Her caution stemmed from advice given by her elder sister Min Ming, who often reminded her: "Never harbor ill intentions, but always guard against others." As a seasoned spy, her sister was well-versed in underhanded dealings. Whenever the two sisters met, Min Ning would inevitably hear lectures of this sort.

After finishing the water, as she handed the bowl back, a group of children ran over, roughhousing noisily. Min Ning stepped aside to avoid them, but the bowl slipped from her hand and fell. The farmer's wife let out a gasp, watching in horror as the bowl seemed about to smash onto her child's head.

With a sudden motion, Min Ning drew her Brocade Spring Blade. The flash of steel sliced through the air as the back of the blade caught the bowl, steadying it perfectly.

The children froze, stunned by this magician-like trick. Those holding sticks gripped them even tighter. No doubt, soon, the wildflowers and grasses nearby would suffer their wrath.

Min Ning handed the bowl back to the farmer's wife and turned to look at the group of children. One bold child widened his eyes and pointed at Min Ning's blade, asking:

"Officer… may we touch it?"

Min Ning chuckled and generously extended the blade in front of them, ensuring the sharp edge faced herself and the spine faced the children.

The children's eyes lit up with excitement.

"It's a real sword!"

"It's real, sharper than my grandpa's pig-slaughtering knife!"

"What pig-slaughtering knife? This sword is for killing people!"

"Killing people… so scary."

Yet their eyes betrayed undisguised thrill. Tiny hands ran over the blade's surface; the sword surely haunted their dreams now.

Who hasn't swung a branch as a child, dreaming of becoming a wandering hero of the Jianghu?

They knew nothing of the actual Jianghu—only their vision of what a hero should be.

The farmer's wife watched the scene with a faint smile before heading to the village entrance with steaming rice to find her husband playing mahjong.

The children kept touching the sword, unable to get enough of it. Concerned they might push or jostle, Min Ning instructed them to form a line. One by one, the children took turns caressing the Brocade Spring Blade with an almost reverent enthusiasm. For boys and girls alike, it was their first time seeing a real sword—an extraordinary novelty.

Through their back-and-forth, the children began chatting with Min Ning.

"Officer, did you come from the city?" one child asked.

"Yes, not that big of a city, not that small of an officer."

"We've never been to the city…"

"There's not much to see anyway."

At that moment, one child approached the blade. It was the farmer's wife's child. Carefully, he asked:

"Officer, are you from the Capital City? Have you heard of… Chen Yi, Chen Qianhu?"

Min Ning opened her mouth, hesitated briefly, and replied:

"Of course I've heard of him. Why?"

The child's face lit up with admiration, and he exclaimed:

"I heard Chen Qianhu endured hardship, bided his time, and eventually reached martial mastery, upholding justice…"

"…Is he really that impressive?"

Min Ning muttered internally.

After a moment's thought, she propped her chin on her hand and tentatively asked:

"Since you've heard of Chen Qianhu, have you heard of Min Qianhu?"

The children paused, then all began asking, "Who's Min Qianhu?"

Min Ning took a deep breath and said, "His swordsmanship was taught by Min Qianhu."

The children then understood, but none of them believed her. Still, having just touched her Brocade Spring Blade, they couldn't bring themselves to laugh outright.

"Never heard of him?" Min Ning frowned.

One child tactfully replied, "Well, we've heard of him… but kind of… haven't heard of him."

Min Ning raised her eyebrows slightly in displeasure.

Another child chimed in, "Maybe… his reputation isn't noteworthy. Should he have a nickname?"

Before Min Ning could respond, the children found the idea amusing and began noisily debating among themselves.

One child approached her, raising their hand. "Officer, I thought of one—how about Sword Rakshasa?"

Min Ning's expression turned slightly dark. Rakshasa didn't sound particularly appealing. Besides, she prided herself on her chivalrous deeds; being called 'Rakshasa' didn't quite sit right. Yet, seeing the children's enthusiasm, she didn't have the heart to reject them outright.

"Why Rakshasa?" Min Ning asked casually. "Isn't that an evil spirit?"

"My grandfather, who studies Buddhist Scriptures, said everyone is wrong. Rakshasa belongs to the Eight Divisions of Heavenly Dragons; it's a Dharma Protector of the Buddhist Sect. In the human realm, it upholds justice and possesses both virtue and divine power."

The child spoke confidently, and the other children nodded in agreement.

Min Ning, who hadn't studied Buddhist Scriptures much—or even read many books—thought the description fitting. Upholding justice in the human realm, possessing virtue and divine power—wasn't that her?

Min Ning smiled and said, "That's me."

Another child interjected, "But aren't Rakshasas supposed to be ugly spirits?"

Min Ning's face darkened. "That's not me."

Yet another child said, "Wrong, wrong. Rakshasas are said to be hideous as men but beautiful as women."

Min Ning blinked,

That fits me.

It was clear Sword Rakshasa wouldn't become her nickname, sparking another lively debate among the children. Min Ning watched their playful quarrels, her expression softening.

In the distance, long rays of warm sunlight spilled across the horizon. The farmer's wife delivered the meal and was on her way back to the house, raising her hand to call the children over.

"Your mother's calling you, go quickly," Min Ning said casually.

Clip-clop… urgent hoofbeats thundered in the air, a dark shadow racing closer.

A raised blade. A charge. Wind howling sharply.

The mother waving to her children—her head suddenly streaked skyward as a curved blade tore through her neck, splitting her apart with a sickening slash. Her head rolled to the ground.

"Ahhh!!!"

Min Ning's eyes widened as blood-curdling screams erupted from the children around her.