My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Putting away the Taoist manual, Chen Yi didn't hurry to flip through it. Instead, he walked to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast. Sometimes, he felt that hiring a maid for the house might be a good idea—at least he wouldn't have to personally deal with the daily meals himself. Though, truth be told, he didn't exactly dislike it either.

When the food was ready, some sounds came from the bedroom—both Little Yin and Big Yin were awake.

Little Yin led Big Yin to wash up, and after a while, both of them sat down at the dining table. Little Yin placed her hands neatly on her knees, looking docile and well-mannered, while Big Yin seemed somewhat nervous, her lips pressed tightly together.

No matter the case, the two girls sat at the same table. Just seeing this scene was enough to make Chen Yi feel a hint of contentment.

Breakfast was millet porridge, paired with hot rice cakes, and a plate of stir-fried winter bamboo shoots—a rather simple spread of dishes commonly eaten by ordinary households in this Great Yu capital. Though Chen Yi was now a minister in the Zige Bureau and earned a handsome salary, his household didn't exactly lack money, he still hadn't hired a maid nor enjoyed the luxuries of a wealthy lifestyle. The household expenses and daily arrangements were modest and unassuming.

When Little Yin first arrived, she wasn't initially accustomed to such a simple life. But driven by fear, even if she wasn't suited to these conditions, she refrained from expressing dissatisfaction. After about a month, once her fear subsided somewhat, she had nearly adapted to this lifestyle and no longer bore complaints.

As for Big Yin, she was much like Little Yin when she first came. Yet due to various reasons, her adjustment period was even harder. Still, with just one glance from Chen Yi, she ended up saying nothing.

It was well-known that in the Prince Mansion, with hundreds of servants and maids, the kitchens were particularly well-staffed. Each courtyard even had its own private stove. Meals served during these hours were usually light and refined. Steamed rice cakes and millet porridge might both appear, but they would never be served together on the same spread. Even Yin Weiyin, who had been living a life of asceticism in the mansion, still had at least enough spending for such alternating portions of delicacies and staples. Staples, of course, referred to the likes of rice cakes and millet porridge, while delicacies often signified foods like crisps, curds, or refined dishes such as crystal rice porridge, date-and-yam cake, or rose pickle.

Yin Weiyin kept her head down, eating the millet porridge in front of her. The dishes weren't extravagant, but as she followed a path of Taoist cultivation, she was adaptable. Nonetheless, her appetite was notably lacking, though the small fox seemed to be enjoying the meal quite cheerfully.

As for Zhou Yitang, she had long mastered the art of fasting. Among the three daily meals, she would generally only show up during dinner, adding a homely feeling to the courtyard with her presence.

Chen Yi leisurely sipped his bowl of millet porridge, occasionally flipping through the Taoist manual Zhou Yitang had given him. As he turned page after page, the techniques recorded in it started to coalesce and merge into his mind.

Yin Weiyin picked listlessly at the millet porridge, not touching the steamed rice cakes at all, though she did nibble a few pieces of the stir-fried winter bamboo shoots. She had spent the entire day in the courtyard yesterday, with both lunch and dinner consisting of reheated dishes prepared by Little Yin. While the flavors weren't bad, she didn't enjoy reheated meals as much, and her appetite hadn't been particularly strong. Today was even worse.

Bored, she raised her gaze and stared long at the Taoist manual in Chen Yi's hands.

Noticing her glance, Chen Yi looked up and asked, "What's the matter?"

Yin Weiyin hesitated and faltered, unsure about starting a conversation. After a moment, a sensitive and quiet maiden's intuition prompted her to speak softly, "Sister Weiying is a Taoist, isn't she? Maybe she's interested in your book."

"Oh, is that so?" Chen Yi raised the manual slightly in reply.

Yin Weiyin nodded faintly. Originally, she had intended to address him as "husband," yet the words seemed stuck in her throat. Instead, she said, "I've come across this book before. It's nothing exceptionally rare or groundbreaking."

"Oh?"

"Mm... Books like this are quite common in the mountains. After all, cultivators are not martial artists, and these texts aren't martial arts secret recipes meant for duels and battles. It's fairly common to transcribe such manuals. Though widespread, the contents can also be difficult to grasp…"

Her voice grew increasingly strained toward the end of her sentence. The looming sense of him extracting spiritual energy from her heightened her growing unease. Eventually, she added:

"If you'd like, I can read it aloud for you and explain a bit."

Chen Yi propped his chin on his hand, his gaze falling thoughtfully on the Taoist nun who was seated tensely before him. She appeared uneasy yet forced herself to maintain composure, trying to prevent him from suspecting ulterior motives.

"Alright then, go ahead and read," Chen Yi responded.

Yin Weiyin's almond-shaped eyes subtly flickered with light.

Chen Yi added, "Let me say this first—whether you recite it or not, I'll still extract from you as planned."

Yin Weiyin's gaze dimmed briefly, yet she said nothing.

Did Chen Yi truly need her to recite the text? He was the possessor of Heavenly Vision. Even if she didn't read or explain, he would still comprehend it. By letting her do so, he was merely giving them both an opportunity to ease the tension between them—a sentiment Yin Weiyin understood somewhat.

In this shared lifetime, she had indeed caused him harm, even pushing him to the brink several times. Such scars couldn't be disregarded overnight. For him to offer her a chance like this, perhaps she should consider herself fortunate.

Chen Yi flipped through the Taoist manual and landed on the section regarding Square Land. He remarked casually:

"When you return to the Prince Mansion, bring me a Square Land artifact."

Yin Weiyin didn't seem particularly concerned at first, but her thoughts began to shift deeper, a glimmer of surprise dawning upon her.

Was this… his way of asking her for a gift?

Chen Yi raised his brow and asked:

"What, unwilling?"

"Willing, naturally." Her tone shifted back to the somewhat melodious and composed cadence she usually employed. "It's only a Square Land artifact."

She fondled the rectangular jade pendant on her waist, its surface intricately carved with phoenix motifs, echoing her personal seal marked "Phoenix Sovereign."

Chen Yi chuckled softly at the sight, picked up his bowl, and finished the remaining millet porridge inside.

After breakfast ended, Yin Weiyin prepared to leave.

Before departing, she lingered at the doorway for quite some time, yet never stepped across the threshold.

Chen Yi mulled over her indecisiveness briefly, then approached her and spoke lightly:

"In return for the Square Land you'll bring me, no matter what happens in the future, you'll always remain the Taichua Goddess in the eyes of others."

The Taoist nun was taken aback, turning her head slightly to look at him. She gazed at him steadily for a while.

Eventually, she nodded slightly and turned away so she no longer faced him. Her soft voice sounded faintly, quieter than a mosquito, as she murmured: "Then in private, I'll call you… husband."

The words were so light they were nearly inaudible, and as soon as she spoke them she left.

Chen Yi heard her words clearly and watched as Yin Weiyin slowly disappeared from view.

Turning back inside, Chen Yi walked over to Yin Tingxue. The little fox noticed his approach and immediately began speaking in defense of the Taoist nun.

"Sister Weiying is actually pretty nice..."

Chen Yi found this amusing and replied:

"Do I need you to tell me whether she's nice or not?"

Yin Tingxue felt somewhat guilty and quickly added:

"People can change—she's better now."

Chen Yi said nothing in response. He sat in the chair beside Yin Tingxue.

In his mind, he began to plan for the days following the New Year.

The New Year celebrations would naturally take place in the capital, but beyond that, what would unfold was hard to predict. Now that Miss Donggong had likely been confined by Jingren Palace, the imperial edict for her marriage might come at any moment.

Chen Yi couldn't determine whether this marriage would proceed...

If it did, it would mean falling into Jingren Palace's trap. If it didn't, the bridges would be burned, and there would be no face left to salvage—Miss Donggong herself would also be inconvenienced.

Chen Yi couldn't think of a flawless solution, but one thing was clear: he needed to leave the capital before chaos engulfed the land.

As for Yin Tingxue and the women he cared about, what would become of them...

Turning to Yin Tingxue, Chen Yi asked:

"Little fox, would you like to go to Yin Sword Mountain?"

Yin Tingxue paused, seemingly understanding what was implied, and frowned slightly as she pondered the matter.

Chen Yi hadn't bothered to hide his intention to leave the capital from her.

Speaking softly, Yin Tingxue said:

"I'd feel reluctant leaving Yintai Temple behind, but if we have to go, then we go. Still, the temple must be taken care of..."

Chen Yi listened intently. Though the young girl knew full well the temple was now nothing but an empty shell, she still clung to her feelings for it. Moved by her sentiment, he replied:

"I'll do everything I can to preserve it—even if it means heading to Jingren Palace to pledge myself as their adopted son, I'll make her grant it to us."

Yin Tingxue's worrying expression vanished in an instant, replaced by laughter.

Chen Yi redirected his attention toward the courtyard, waiting patiently for Min Ning to arrive.

She had mentioned yesterday that she would deliver the item today.

......…

Chen Yi spent the entire day sitting in the main hall, splitting his time between studying the Taoist manual and awaiting Min Ning's appearance. By the afternoon, he couldn't help but retreat to the study, occasionally stepping out to take a look.

But the silhouette of Min Ning remained absent.

Even as night set in and curfew blanketed the city, Min Ning had neither shown up nor sent word. Chen Yi, perplexed, decided to personally visit Min Mansion, where Min Ming informed him that Min Ning was asleep.

Returning to his courtyard, Chen Yi felt a faint sense of disappointment.

Being stood up like this left him feeling irritated, though not excessively so. After all, slight quarrels were not uncommon in relationships. This instance didn't even qualify as an actual quarrel.

Back home, Chen Yi lay on his bed, holding Yin Tingxue, his mood already calmed. Inevitably, he found himself wondering whether Min Ning would come tomorrow.

Min Ning didn't come.

Chen Yi suddenly realized, with surprising clarity, that yesterday he might have appeared as nothing more than a clown being mocked.

It was his first time experiencing the sensation of being led on. After all, hadn't it been him leading Min Ning along in their past interactions?

Several days passed in a similar pattern. Chen Yi largely remained at home, occasionally stopping by the Zige Bureau to meet Luo Nanwu, handling minor affairs. Meanwhile, Yin Tingxue's cycle had ended, entering her most susceptible time. To avoid complications, Chen Yi kept things light even when teasing her. The little fox chose not to reveal this; she worried that directly addressing the matter would provoke heightened audacity from him.

But this day,

The Zige Bureau faced a matter of significance.

Initially, Chen Yi had intended to briefly show up, address some routine tasks, and return to the courtyard. Yet upon entering the bureau's doors, he encountered an unfamiliar face.

The man had white hair, stood tall and thin, his angular features a clear indicator of his once remarkable looks during youth. Sitting steadily in the guest seat of the Zige Bureau, he held a cloth-wrapped long spear resting securely across his lap. His posture firm, like an immovable mountain.

"Minister Chen, it seems there's work to be done this time."