My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Chen Yi left.

He didn't stay long at the Min residence, nor did he plan to. He merely gave Min Ning a distant nod before disappearing from sight in front of the grandfather and grandsons.

After this brief incident, the Min residence grew momentarily silent. The three didn't exchange words, each lost in their own thoughts and reflections, letting the cold winter wind sweep past them. After what seemed an eternity, the old man, already a ghost of his former self, let out a long sigh. Then he laughed. Then sighed again. Then smiled again. His expression shifted repeatedly, until it finally settled into a deep, weary sigh—just like a fish swimming the entire pond, only to circle back to its original spot.

Min He stared into the direction Chen Yi had left, muttering to himself:

"That man… that man is so stubborn."

Min Ning remained silent, her eyes already shining with brilliance.

He had conceded to her, willing to wait for her—a stubbornness like his was even more difficult than asking him to die for her.

Her lips quivered slightly, her fingertips trembling, while that thought burned fiercely in her heart, unstoppable. The countless affairs in the Capital City shackled her, yet she longed to simply lift her head, take up her sword, and become a true hero.

"Grandfather, I told you, I will take care of this family."

Min Ning broke the silence, her five fingers already gripping the hilt of her blade.

The old man heard her words but said nothing more. He understood, and Min Ming, standing nearby, understood even better.

The plaque carved with the words "Min Residence" gleamed in the sunlight. Min Ning's tone was resolute, as if she was destined to carve out a name for herself, to ultimately fulfill her calling as a hero.

When that day comes, in the Jianghu, everyone will know her name is Min Ning and her courtesy name is Yue Chi.

Min He took in her determined gaze, an unexpected surge of pride swelling within him. Yet, in an instant, bitterness followed. He didn't voice it, instead he said:

"Well, I have a good granddaughter, and your father has a good daughter."

Over the years, the weight of the Min family had rested squarely on Min Ning's shoulders, forcing her—a woman—to disguise herself as a man and navigate the murky depths of the Capital City. No one knew how many grievances she had suffered.

Now, the three of them didn't dissolve into tears. Instead, they exchanged smiles.

Min Ming turned her head, gazing quietly at the direction where Chen Yi had disappeared. Her expression grew complicated, but she remained silent. The words she wanted to say stayed buried deep in her heart, best left unsaid.

On this final day, the Min residence became unusually lively—something that hadn't occurred since the case involving the Prime Minister. Such joyous scenes had become exceedingly rare.

The Min residence wasn't particularly large, but in the old days, it was staffed with maids, servants, and elderly helpers. Every New Year, everyone would gather around one table to eat, and during these festive times, the distinction between master and servant almost dissolved into nothingness. But with the decline of the family, all those memories had turned into a faint gray, stuck in the recesses of nostalgia.

As the eldest, Min Ming carried a basket of ingredients and struck the flint to start a fire. Wisps of smoke began to rise. As the eldest sister, she had taken on a maternal role. Back when Min Ning knew nothing, Min Ming had already been coming and going from the kitchen alongside the old maids.

Were theirs a family of scholarly refinement, the daughters of the family might learn to cook, but it wouldn't involve frequent trips to the kitchen. "The gentleman stays far from the kitchen" wasn't mere idle words, and naturally, the children of gentlemen ought to stay far from it too. But the Min family was founded by Min He himself, with shallow roots and a martial lineage, leaving no room for such rules.

Flames roared to life, and the washed jar filled with sliced meat, seasoned with star anise and bay leaves, was placed to stew. Min Ming fanned the fire, controlling the heat, not noticing her younger sister Min Ning had slipped into the room.

Min Ning almost threw herself against her sister's back.

The young courtesan paused momentarily. The two sisters had been at odds for quite some time, but as days passed, their differences gradually dissolved. By now, any lingering tension had completely resolved. Realizing her sister's presence, Min Ming softened her voice and said:

"Don't make trouble—I'm cooking here."

Min Ning seemed to ignore her, snuggling up while saying, "Sister, just like before, carry me on your back, will you?"

Her sister's back seemed capable of handling the weight of a world unseen, broader and softer compared to her own, which bore more defined lines.

"You're already in your twenties—I can't carry you anymore," Min Ming replied, feigning annoyance.

"You can still carry me somehow."

Min Ning clung for a while before gradually letting go.

Min Ming looked at the fire beneath the stewing jar and said softly, "The New Year is coming soon, and there's not much time left. The palace has prepared a place for me, and when the time comes, I'll move everything from Baihua Building there."

The young heroine felt a jolt in her heart but remained silent, saying nothing about the medicine she had taken from their stash.

She hadn't yet found a chance to use it, but even if she couldn't, she wouldn't return it to Min Ming.

Min Ming didn't notice, continuing to chatter, "The palace is quiet. Once I move, I'll come home more often and cook for you a few times. Look at what you've been eating while I'm away—leftover buns and pancakes for breakfast, salted pickles and porridge from the West Factory, barely bothering to cook anything properly. That won't do."

The sisters—one talking, one listening—shared a quiet intimacy. Min Ning leaned against her sister's back, patiently listening. Though anyone could grow tired of such chatter, Min Ning was no exception. Eventually, she grew sleepy, yawning widely. Min Ming, feeling the weight of her sister, grew annoyed, slapping her hand. When that didn't work, she pinched Min Ning's waist.

Min Ning jumped up, glaring at her sister fiercely, but she wasn't a child anymore and refrained from kicking her sibling's backside in retaliation.

After eating, time passed unknowingly, until the sun was almost set. Outside the Min residence, firecrackers burst into loud pops, trailing streams of red paper fluttering in the air, rushing toward the house. Min Ming, engrossed in her embroidery at the time, was startled by the sudden noise. A misstep pricked her finger, prompting her to instinctively suck on the injured finger while glancing around, worried Min Ning might notice.