My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Chen Yi could guess that Zhou Yitang was quietly watching him from somewhere nearby. This woman often watched silently—calm and still—sometimes without uttering a single word for an entire day.

So, when she did make her appearance, Chen Yi wasn't surprised.

At that time, he was merely dragging out the confrontation with the old nun to buy time, waiting for her arrival.

But contrary to his expectation, it was Anhou who showed up first.

Speaking of which, if Anhou managed to reach this place, could it mean she had a hand in the matter too?

Chen Yi didn't know for sure; he only knew that, at the moment, he felt like teasing his master.

Zhou Yitang's gaze was sharp as a sword, fixed squarely on her defiant disciple. Even though Chen Yi shivered under her intense stare, he still pulled Zhu E tighter into his embrace.

His demeanor resembled that of a guilty man shielding his illicit lover.

Meanwhile, Zhu E, acting as if the chilly wind was unbearable, huddled against Chen Yi. Her delicate lips exhaled soft puffs of warm breath, her nose quivering as she greedily inhaled his scent.

The one-armed woman studied them for a long moment before speaking coldly, "Are you doing this on purpose to provoke me?"

"If I wasn't doing it on purpose, how could I provoke you?" Chen Yi replied, sounding perfectly self-assured.

Zhou Yitang sneered, "Is this all the skill you've got?"

Hearing this, Chen Yi hugged Zhu E even tighter, burying his nose in the elegant curve of her hairpin-adorned locks. Her slender waist grew soft under his touch, unable to withstand such close intimacy. She exclaimed with mock irritation, "That tickles~"

Chen Yi playfully brushed her nose, evoking a cascade of silvery laughter from the beautiful woman.

Seeing this, Zhou Yitang lowered her lashes and murmured, "Must you really act this way?"

Feigning ignorance, Chen Yi asked, "Act how?"

Zhou Yitang's tone was light but resolute, "You know exactly what I mean."

Zhu E didn't understand the subtle exchange between the two; she simply buried herself entirely in Chen Yi's embrace, indulging wholeheartedly in his warmth, while Chen Yi enjoyed holding her just as much.

She was growing hotter and hotter.

She couldn't quite understand why…

Had there not been other people present, she might already have buried her head and tried to get a taste of him.

As for whether this moment counted as being caught red-handed, the now-overcome Princess cared not about accusations of infidelity—only her irresistible desires mattered.

The other two remained oblivious.

Zhou Yitang declared, "We should return to Yin Sword Mountain soon."

Chen Yi's demeanor abruptly shifted; softening his voice, he replied, "I know my master is kindhearted. If I don't intentionally rile her up, she won't treat me any better."

"You're quick to change your tone," Zhou Yitang remarked.

"It's all part of my strategy," Chen Yi responded.

He sensed Zhou Yitang might have something to say, so he probed gently, "You disapprove of my flirting habits?"

"Of course I disapprove," Zhou Yitang candidly admitted, "You should rein yourself in."

Chen Yi scratched his head. He felt the comment was fair but didn't sound quite like something Zhou Yitang would normally say.

"Why are you saying this all of a sudden?" Chen Yi asked.

Zhou Yitang's lips trembled slightly, as though she were about to offer heartfelt advice…

From afar, Yin Tingxue quietly observed the scene. She faintly caught snippets of their conversation and noticed that Chen Yi's demeanor had softened—perhaps the perfect moment to communicate. Nervously, she clutched her tiny palm, mentally urging on the exchange.

Master Zhou, say it already…

Take this chance and say it…

In the next moment, Zhou Yitang sold her out: "It's the princess who asked me to come."

The little fox: (0.0?)

"Well, well, looks like she's grown quite bold," Chen Yi sneered, his gaze darting somewhere afar. "She'll get what's coming to her soon enough."

Yin Tingxue felt as if she had fallen into an icy abyss. Silently biting her lip, she partially hid behind the tree roots, nearly on the verge of tears.

How could Master Zhou do this…

She pouted her small lips, attempting to console herself:

"Forget it. He can't actually see me… I'll just pretend I don't know anything when the time comes."

Chen Yi shifted his gaze elsewhere before preparing to refocus on Zhou Yitang.

The woman in his arms, Zhu E, unexpectedly clung tightly to him. When Chen Yi lowered his head, he found her face flushed crimson, panting heavily.

"What's wrong, Liao Hao?" Chen Yi asked with alarm.

Zhu E felt unbearably hot and restless, unable to explain the sudden compulsion. She tightened her grip on him, sensing the tension in his body growing sharper, as though her longing could unravel his restraint.

"I—I don't know…"

Zhu E struggled for coherence, her cheeks burning as she muttered softly:

"Could it be… the Prince?"

Chen Yi froze in surprise, instinctively glancing toward Zhou Yitang for an answer.

The one-armed woman lightly calculated with her fingers before remarking softly, "It's nothing serious."

Hearing this, Chen Yi's heart steadied slightly.

......…

Silhouettes flickered amidst the forest as Min Ning and Qin Qingluo leapt across countless treetops, traveling an immeasurable distance with their unmatched Qinggong.

Qin Qingluo seemed increasingly unsteady—beads of sweat gleamed upon her forehead, while flushed energy stretched across her cheeks. Her breathing grew erratic, and her pace had visibly slackened.

When she finally stopped, as though unable to continue, she leaned against a tree and gradually half-squatted to the ground.

Min Ning rushed toward her, worry evident. The Prince's behavior throughout the journey had been far from normal; initially, her form had cut through the air effortlessly, darting across treetops as if treading flat ground.

But after that burst of energy, her pace diminished steadily. This stately royal woman, taller than Min Ning by a head and a half, now betrayed signs of physical weakness.

Recalling Qin Qingluo's prior injury, Min Ning tried to make sense of it. Yet her increasingly labored movements—her crimson complexion that seemed as if painted with fresh blood, and now this slow, trembling descent—were far more alarming.

Her imposing figure quivered faintly, her shapely curves visibly arched.

Min Ning asked in disbelief, "Prince, what's happening to you?"

Qin Qingluo panted heavily, bewildered, "I do not know myself… Only that… I feel so hot, my blood surging tumultuously, uncontrollably."

"Is it the poison?" Min Ning exclaimed in shock. The toxin from Xique Pavilion was proving immensely stubborn, clinging to her like marrow-deep maggots, recurrent and relentless.

Qin Qingluo shared her confusion. The poison had afflicted her for hours already—three or four, to be exact. With her glowing resistance and circulation of True Qi detoxifying her meridians, it should have been resolved by now.