My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Rain began to fall over Jiu'an Town. Dark clouds gathered, the sky grew dim, and households retreated indoors. The faint rumble of thunder echoed, rolling on and on in muffled roars.

Amid the steady sound of rainfall, a group of three followed the directions they had gathered earlier, quickly turning into an alley.

Rainwater permeated the streets, so even as they walked, muddy splashes dirtied their feet. This alley, resembling any ordinary one, had narrow corridors, uneven pathways, and one wooden doorstep after another. The only difference was that the houses in this alley were all tightly closed, appearing abandoned.

These abandoned houses were thanks to Wan Xifeng. This man, seeking peace for his mother and fearing she might be abducted for ransom, drove the surrounding households away. Those who refused were dealt with personally, and if they still resisted, heads would roll.

As one who roamed the Jianghu, earning the ominous nickname "Golden Saber Thief," his deeds spoke for themselves. Little surprise that his wanted posters had even reached the West Factory.

In the midst of the deserted alley, Chen Yi held an umbrella, spotting the sole house that remained open from afar.

Approaching, he saw a white-haired elderly woman seated in the main hall. She wore simple cloth garments, her face etched with wrinkles. Seated, her back hunched, her cloudy, lifeless eyes gazing into nothingness as if unable to see clearly.

Chen Yi lowered his gaze slightly before motioning to the other two, signaling them to stop here as he went forward alone.

Although Luo Nanwu and Wu Qingsheng hesitated, they ultimately agreed, as Chen Yi possessed the highest martial prowess among them.

Still, the two couldn't hide their concern—whether this time, Chen Yi might falter in compassion.

The rain, which began as a drizzle, had now grown heavier. Chen Yi stepped into the hall under his umbrella, his footsteps audible. The elderly woman abruptly leaned forward with a croaky voice:

"Feng'er, have you finished your business and come back?"

Her tone brimmed with excitement. She leaned forward eagerly, tilting her head slightly towards Chen Yi's direction as her blindness rendered her vision useless.

"Just a passerby."

Chen Yi replied with an indifferent tone, slowly folding his umbrella. He then courteously added, wearing a faint smile:

"Excuse me, Ma'am. The rain is heavy. Might I borrow this place for some shelter? I'll be gone shortly."

"Ah, oh… I thought Feng'er had come back. Well, shelter here if you wish. Not many people come around here anyway."

The elderly woman welcomed him. Seeing that it wasn't her son returning, a crestfallen look crept onto her face.

The sound of the rain grew louder.

Chen Yi requested to use a chair, shaking water off his umbrella. The elderly woman nodded in response. Once, she had lived a prosperous life and thus lacked much vigilance against strangers. Moreover, Wan Xifeng, fiercely filial, had kept all outside matters hidden from his mother.

Her face bore an abundance of wrinkles, crumpled by life like discarded parchment.

"Are you waiting for your son, Ma'am?"

"Yes. My Feng'er told me he'd crossed some thugs and needed to lay low. Said he'd be back in a few days. I've been sitting here early on, waiting and waiting, like a fool."

The old woman chuckled lightly over the word "fool," her laughter dry like her wrinkled, sagging skin.

"Now it's raining, and I just realized how long I've been sitting… nearly a day maybe. I don't think I've even eaten. When you're old, you don't really feel hunger…"

Chen Yi listened quietly, his gaze fixed beyond the hall. He asked:

"Do you live alone here, Ma'am?"

"No, with my son. My son cooks for me, wakes me up. He's very filial now, though he used to be such a rascal. Luckily, he's changed and become devoted now."

The elderly woman said this as if recalling past memories. Her cloudy, unfocused eyes deepened in thought as she continued:

"He's really a good person—always charming since childhood, filial when older. But… he gambles. Always gambling, to the point where day becomes night. I've beaten him, scolded him, but when the debts piled too high, he ran away.

Now I don't beat or scold him anymore. I'm just afraid he'll run off again. Sigh…"

In the world, parents lamenting unfilial children are common, but few sing praises for filial ones. Yet this elderly woman cherished her son's good deeds, fearing he might abandon her again. Chen Yi could see her reasoning clearly.

The rain's heavy drops fell incessantly. Chen Yi, with the keen hearing befitting his Fourth Rank abilities, caught the faintest sound of footsteps outside—soft, careful, as if striving not to disturb.

The elderly woman didn't hear them. She continued rambling:

"He's really a good boy, just stubborn sometimes. No matter how much I plead with him, he never heeds advice until he hits a wall. I've stopped trying to persuade him now; he's grown up and I'm old. As long as he's well, that's all that matters."

Chen Yi remained silent, seated stiffly as the visage of a seven-foot-tall man entered his line of sight.

The man wore a rain cloak and carried a blade at his waist. Upon noticing Chen Yi's official attire, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Once a household officer, now a fugitive, he raised a finger to his lips in a "shh" gesture.

Wan Xifeng sensed the intent and remained wordless. Slowly, he drew the blade from his waist, its hilt plated in gold—the namesake of the Golden Saber Thief.

The downpour raged on, relentless.

The elderly woman continued recounting her stories, occasionally sighing, occasionally laughing. Her eyes never left the hall entrance, watching for her son's return.

The former household officer rose languidly, not drawing his blade but gripping his umbrella instead. Its tip pointed toward Wan Xifeng.

The torrential rain swallowed countless noises; the elderly woman couldn't even hear her own voice clearly.

Wan Xifeng stepped forward, the blade swinging in a fatal arc.

Its silver edge glimmered like frost, its strike swift and decisive—though muted slightly to avoid making too loud a commotion.

Against this killing intent, Chen Yi didn't retreat. Instead, he advanced, his movements fluid like a fish in water, effortlessly sidestepping the strike. His clenched fist, drenched with rainwater, rushed toward Wan Xifeng's face.

Wan Xifeng retreated sharply, countering with another slash.

Chen Yi raised the umbrella, parrying the blade downward. A slight press caused the vibrating blade to muffle in the rain.

Realizing his strike would be overpowered, Wan Xifeng withdrew the blade urgently. A sinister glint crossed his eyes. With government officers present, to flee would mean leaving his blind mother at their mercy, so instead, he chose to fight relentlessly.

His blade work was raw and bold, uncomplex yet efficient, each slash intended to kill, free of any wasted motion. No one understood such blades better than Chen Yi, who had reached Fourth Rank.

The killing intent enveloped the space, the blade slicing through the rain with an explosive roar.

The elderly woman flinched at the sound, leaning forward in fear but gradually calming down. She muttered:

"Thunder… Oh, it's thundering. The rain sure is heavy…"

The blade roared like thunder, its speed ferocious. Yet Chen Yi's umbrella moved faster, slithering like a snake, latching onto the strike. The umbrella's ribs scraped against the blade, forming an arc without snapping, where rainwater seemed to encircle them.

Wan Xifeng's momentum surged in waves, his energy like a rising spring. Suddenly, he thrust forward with another strike.

Chen Yi's right hand lifted slightly, tapping lightly on the blade. With a sharp vibration, Wan Xifeng gripped the hilt tightly, determined to pierce his opponent with this strike. Chen Yi tapped again, the resonating hum blending seamlessly with the thunder.

The elderly woman caught some of the noise and, bewildered, asked:

"Young man, what are you tapping?"

"Just shaking off the water from the umbrella."

"Ah… Well, do continue. Now, where was I… Ah yes, Feng'er—this boy, such a gambler. If not for that, he wouldn't have crossed those men… Back then, I cried and cried, but no matter what, he's still my son. I just hope he lives well—safe and sound, carrying on the family line."

As she spoke, the deadly combat persisted.

Inexperienced but determined, Wan Xifeng's eyes burned red, searching for weaknesses with lethal focus. Seeing Chen Yi's light taps on the blade, he realized his opponent's ease and confidence. Yet instead of retreating, he seized an opening. At the precise moment before Chen Yi landed a third tap, Wan Xifeng's energy exploded. He unleashed a strike in desperation, seeking a fatal blow at the risk of his own demise!

Chen Yi's gaze remained cold.

Wan Xifeng stared in horror as his powerful strike sliced empty air. Chen Yi's figure turned with inhuman swiftness, leaving the blade to miss its mark entirely.

And then came a gust against Wan Xifeng's face. Rain splattered across his cheeks, immediately followed by the umbrella tip smashing his skull inward.

Wan Xifeng sank to his knees, his blade clattering to the floor. Even in death, he uttered no words.

Chen Yi calmly retracted his umbrella.

Unnoticed, the rain had begun to lessen.

Luo Nanwu and Wu Qingsheng, sensing the fight was over, stepped inside briskly.

The blind, white-haired elderly woman, hearing the approaching footsteps, tilted her head as before, leaning forward slightly. She asked:

"Young man, has my Feng'er returned?"

Chen Yi turned his eyes to the lifeless corpse on the ground.

"Not yet…"

The rain outside continued its steady rhythm.