My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

The silk curtains were casually lifted, and Miss Donggong's embroidered bed seemed to have been tossed into the lake, soaking thoroughly, enveloped in a hazy, damp mist.

Chen Yi casually pushed aside the plump thigh draped over him and leaned forward, half-propped before her.

Her snake-like eyes were dim, as if they had entirely lost their luster. Her complexion was pale, tinged with a faint blush.

Chen Yi stared for a long time.

At last, she moved. Her tall figure curled inward slightly, her face shrouded in shadow, and she spat out a single word: "Leave."

Chen Yi twisted viciously.

Qin Qingluo hissed in pain, her gaze sharp as a snake's, as though wishing to tear him apart limb by limb.

"No matter what, I saved the Prince's life and detoxified him. Acting like this... isn't that a bit ungrateful?" Chen Yi said with a smile.

Amid the damp surroundings, frost seemed to gather upon Qin Qingluo's face. Her hand shot out, the wind around her fingers sharp, suddenly striking straight for Chen Yi's throat.

Chen Yi raised a hand, intercepting her. Effortlessly, he caught her slender wrist, stopping her strike just three or four inches from his throat.

"Tsk, still haven't learned your lesson?" Chen Yi asked, his tone meaningful.

As he spoke, he produced a bottle of Jade Spring Ointment. Qin Qingluo's gaze froze, her shoulders trembled, and her wrist began to quiver as she tried to pull back.

But Chen Yi held her tightly, pressing near the tall woman, continuing to ask, "Learned your lesson yet?"

The tall woman's face was pale; she retreated slightly, becoming entirely enveloped in shadow. Chen Yi could no longer see her expression, only her voice, hoarse and devoid of tone: "Enough. Leave."

This proud, queen-like Princess...

Chen Yi sighed lightly in his heart, but he didn't leave. Instead, he leaned forward again, so close he was practically touching Qin Qingluo.

Qin Qingluo maintained a blank expression, her snake-like eyes meeting his gaze directly, as though tiny embers in the night poised to ignite a raging inferno and devour Chen Yi at any moment.

Chen Yi stared at her for a while, softly asking, "Your eyes are beautiful. How did you get them?"

Qin Qingluo paused briefly, her voice icy: "The great world is full of wonders."

Chen Yi rubbed his hand against her chest, smiling as he asked, "Still daring to put on a sour face for me?"

Qin Qingluo stayed silent, her eyes completely fearless.

Chen Yi leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "Speak. Say it now, and maybe I'll let you go this time."

With those words, he raised the tip of his tongue and gently licked her ear.

The tall woman's body shuddered uncontrollably. After a long pause, she began speaking, her tone indifferent and icy:

"Among my Qin ancestors, there was one who traveled to ancient India. Along the way, he encountered a wildfire, then bandits. Servants, supplies, and wealth—all were lost. At that moment, he could neither ascend to the heavens nor descend to the earth, trapped in a desolate wasteland, believing his fate was doomed. Yet it was then that the Indian Python God Mohoraga appeared. It claimed the title of Infinite King and bestowed upon my ancestor the Light Eyes, which have been inherited ever since."

Chen Yi listened and understood. It seemed that the Qin ancestors had received a legacy from ancient India—and the Python God Mohoraga, if he remembered correctly, was one of the Eight Legions of Heavenly Dragons within the Buddhist Sect.

Behind this lay an invisible web, linking one node to another.

And the Qin ancestor might have been one of those nodes.

Whether this node was significant or merely a diversionary move, Chen Yi didn't know, nor did he rush to find out.

Since Chen Yi remained still, the tall woman also remained silent. The scent of sweat mixed with a peculiar damp aroma lingered on her body.

Chen Yi lowered his gaze, looking at her toned and trained abdomen. His thoughts softened inexplicably as he spoke softly:

"In the future, if you want something from me, feel free to tell me."

Hearing this, Qin Qingluo snapped out of her thoughts, lowering her gaze to look at him.

After a long while, she suddenly laughed aloud: "Do you want to be my Prince Consort?"

"Chen Yi wanders half a lifetime, only regretting never meeting a wise ruler," he replied, his voice lingering.

Qin Qingluo laughed heartily, bending at the waist.

Chen Yi embraced her, nearly sinking his entire self into the fiery spirit of this wild rose.

After her laughter subsided, her hand flipped, gripping Chen Yi's left wrist tightly. Her energy surged as she pushed forward abruptly.

Chen Yi, unhurried, turned his head slightly aside, his left arm slipping past the side of his neck. Qin Qingluo twisted forcefully, causing Chen Yi's arm to bend slightly, while his right hand moved deftly, flicking forward with his fingers.

The bed's space filled with winds tearing through the air. The silk curtains couldn't withstand the intensity of their struggle, ripping apart with sharp tearing sounds.

Qin Qingluo's left hand formed a palm against her chest, blocking Chen Yi's strike. A dull sound rang out, like the clash of metals.

It was hard to imagine that these two, completely unclothed, had been intimately entwined just moments earlier.

Now, Chen Yi was expressionless, and Qin Qingluo showed neither sorrow nor joy. The two pressed against each other, their movements locked in stalemate.

The curves of her body pressed tightly against him, warm and supple. Chen Yi eased his force slightly, his lips approaching hers.

Qin Qingluo's gaze flickered with killing intent, though it only passed briefly. She spoke in a deep voice: "If you dare go any further, even Aunt Zhu won't be able to protect you."

Chen Yi smiled faintly, catching her off guard as he kissed the lips of the Princess.

Qin Qingluo did not close her eyes like other women might have. Her facial expression remained composed as she stared at him directly, her wrist subtly gaining strength, ready to seize an instant opportunity.

However, Chen Yi's fingertips had already silently pressed against the pulse on her wrist. If she acted rashly, her energy flow would abruptly falter.

This lingering kiss was slow. Thoughts unreadable, the faint gloom on Qin Qingluo's face gradually dissolved. One couldn't tell if it had dissipated entirely or simply buried itself deeper within. The Princess of An Nan had never been a vengeful person. As her expression cooled, reflecting Chen Yi's sinking capitulation, she seemed indifferent to their kiss, her stance one of detached tolerance. Her body leaned slightly forward, unknowingly pinning Chen Yi further down.