My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Feng Lan served the tea and silently took note of Chen Yi's demeanor, her heart filled with curiosity. She had hosted so many people before, yet none had ever remained unmoved like this.

After picking up the tea and confirming it was safe, Chen Yi casually remarked, "Well, since we're idle anyway, tell me something."

"What would Mr. Chen like to hear about?"

"Recently, have you heard anything related to me in the pavilion?" Chen Yi asked.

Jinya Pavilion, as the headquarters of Wuyong Building, was staffed by women who were far from mere ornaments. Each of them was a spy, privy to intelligence that ordinary people would never know.

Chen Yi intended to start with himself, gradually extracting useful information.

Feng Lan's captivating eyes sparkled as she recalled something and replied:

"Of course."

"Such as?"

"Recently, there have been rumors that the reason for your sudden rise to prominence and your divine-level martial prowess is because you hail from a military family with generations of martial tradition," Feng Lan said.

Chen Yi replied indifferently, "Which family?"

"The Chen family from Western Jin."

Chen Yi's pupils contracted slightly, the tea in his cup rippled, and he raised his eyes to ask, "What?"

Feng Lan explained, "That's what I've heard. And doesn't it make sense? Isn't there a Broken Swordsman ranked sixth in the world who emerged from the Chen family of Western Jin?"

Chen Yi furrowed his brows. He knew well that he was not from the Chen family of Western Jin—not even remotely.

Misunderstandings like this, or perhaps intentional misrepresentations, could only originate from the one in Jingren Palace.

"Go on," Chen Yi set down the teacup and instructed.

"Alright, there's also a tale circulating: it claims that Mr. Chen comes from the third branch of the Chen family, born as the illegitimate child of a concubine. His mother died in childbirth, and Mr. Chen was subsequently neglected by his father, who sought to drive him out of the family but lacked a pretext. When he reached adulthood, his father arranged a marriage for him…"

Feng Lan noticed the peculiar shift in Chen Yi's expression, worried she might have broached a sensitive subject. She breathed delicately, as fragrant as orchids, and said:

"Mr. Chen, these are mere rumors passed around by others; I am only retelling them. If they upset you, I can help you vent your frustrations later."

"…Continue."

"What should have been a joyful wedding turned sour when, upon reaching adulthood, the bride's family personally came to annul the engagement…"

"Ah, I know this one. 'Never provoke the young and penniless,' right? And then I supposedly left home out of anger and traveled to Great Yu for some training, correct?"

"Mr. Chen, you've got it."

Feng Lan laughed enchantingly.

Chen Yi internally scoffed; the story was rife with vivid detail and exaggeration. Could it be that the one in Jingren Palace believed that if everyone accepted him as a descendant of the Chen family of Western Jin, then he, by association, would truly become one?

Thinking of such illogical reasoning, Chen Yi chuckled, lowering his brows slightly. If given the chance, he'd truly want to ask: "Does that mean if everyone thought I was your lover, then I'd actually become one?"

As a courtesan, Feng Lan was trained to read people's expressions. Seeing the faint melancholy trace Chen Yi's brows, she softly exhaled.

Warriors, unlike scholarly poets, often failed to grasp hints and subtleties. When dealing with warriors, one had to be straightforward. So, she leaned closer with an enchanting allure and said, "Mr. Chen seems a little troubled… Does this mean, now, I should help you release your frustrations?"

Chen Yi sensed something, raised his brow, and chuckled as he replied:

"I wouldn't mind letting off some steam, but I came looking for your Pavilion Master. I wouldn't want to delay my purpose."

With that, he rose to his feet, pressing his fists together in a martial salute, and declared:

"I'll go see how Mr. Li is doing."

Feng Lan froze, truly alarmed. If he were to meet Li Jisheng, it would be disastrous. She quickly trotted after him.

"W-wait… Mr. Li is indisposed to meet you."

But Chen Yi had already stepped out of the room.

"He has time for others but not for me?"

"This… Mr. Chen, I beg you, please stay for a moment. I implore you to stay."

Feng Lan grabbed at Chen Yi's sleeve, trying to pull him back into the room, looking pitiful and delicate.

"What's this supposed to mean? You've set up a trap and won't let me see Li Jisheng?"

Chen Yi sent her a secret transmission.

Through secret transmission, there was no need to worry about eavesdropping.

Feng Lan's complexion paled further, unable to explain things clearly. She could only plead:

"Mr. Chen, please take pity on me. If I can't hold you back, I fear I won't be able to stay here much longer. My fate will be to die in some desolate field someday…"

Chen Yi paused slightly in his steps.

He laughed and said:

"What is this? A courtesan asking me to take pity? Then tell me, fair lady, how should I pity you?"

Feng Lan sighed softly and replied:

"I was born into a failing family, placed my trust in the wrong people. If only I'd met someone as kindhearted as you earlier, I wouldn't have ended up in such a place. Alas, my family betrayed me, driving me to this life, though I've only been here a few years…"

"I get it, I get it." Chen Yi raised a hand to interrupt her string of lamentations: "Father's gambling, mother's illness, brother's schooling—new to this, still inexperienced."

"…"

Feng Lan's eyes widened, dumbfounded for a moment.

What was with this person…?

Could it be true, as the Pavilion Master had said, that he had no interest in women? Was he only partial to the company of men?

Chen Yi concealed the teasing glint in his gaze. With a mere glance, he instinctively knew that Feng Lan's tale was far from genuine.

Indeed, the world wasn't lacking in women sold to brothels due to family misfortunes. Most courtesans led wretched lives. But Feng Lan, both an Oiran and a spy, clearly wasn't one of them.

Unclear on what tricks Li Jisheng still had hidden, Chen Yi frowned slightly.

Feng Lan seemed to be making one last attempt, raising her delicate brows and exhaling repeatedly as she said:

"If Mr. Chen finds my looks unsatisfactory, I can mimic several beauties of exceptional charm."

"Oh?"

"As long as you provide a painting or a detailed description, I am confident I can replicate at least seventy percent of their likeness."

Feng Lan smiled temptingly, her gaze full of confidence as she stared at him.

"Then can you…"

Chen Yi paused before uttering a name she could never have anticipated:

"…pretend to be the Prince of Annan?"

Feng Lan froze in place, unable to believe what she'd just heard.

What was this...

Pretending to be the Prince of Annan—an eight-foot-tall man who wielded authority over the southern regions of Great Yu?

Liking men was one thing, but wasn't this preference a bit too eccentric?

If Feng Lan hadn't undergone professional training, she might have already…

"I am but a poor woman—how could I possibly impersonate a man?"

Feng Lan's eyes shimmered as she followed her orders, trying to hold Chen Yi back:

"If Mr. Chen is truly eager, perhaps I could offer something similar, an imperfect substitute."

"An imperfect substitute?"

The top courtesan giggled and said, "I may not impersonate His Highness, but I could pretend to be the Princess instead."

"Oh, there's a way to do that?"

Chen Yi immediately stepped back into the room, seemingly intrigued.

But his gaze lingered on the screen partition.

Seeing him return to the room, Feng Lan shut the door, smiling as she said, "Sometimes imitations are better than the real thing."

Swoosh!

A silver needle suddenly darted out from outside the screen partition.

Chen Yi swiftly pulled Feng Lan to his side, only to see the silver needle seem alive, following an eerily intricate path and looping around half a circle before striking Feng Lan's acupoint for sleep.

Feng Lan felt her head go numb, her legs weakened, and she collapsed heavily to the ground.

Chen Yi's eyes narrowed sharply, preparing to act.

From behind the screen emerged a woman with a face like peaches and plums, brows curved in alluring charm.

The red-clad woman stuck her head out and coyly called:

"Bright Venerable, it's me."

She approached him, softly and tenderly placing his hand on her chest,

"The real deal."