My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

A heavier snowfall brings the year's end closer. From afar, the fields look clean and undisturbed, with furrows rising and falling like gentle waves. Every household has stored enough grain, and in their courtyards, cured meats are hung, awaiting the celebration of a good year.

Two official horses walked side by side, slowly treading the muddy path winding through the farmlands. Pebbles fragmented under their hooves, and wild grass lined the road. In the distance, one could see a village, thin wisps of smoke curling up into the sky. Children wielding branches chased each other from the village entrance to the very last homestead, shouting as they reenacted duels, vying to be the "greatest hero" in the village.

"Quite tranquil." Min Ning remarked softly as she took in the scene.

Chen Yi snapped out of his thoughts and asked, "What's the matter?"

"This place feels peaceful. Even though the Prince of Annan's military camp is just over there, life in this village goes on as if nothing has changed."

Min Ning pointed ahead as she spoke. Following her gaze, Chen Yi saw the encampment sprawled across a distant hillside. Rows of tents were arranged neatly and systematically, with flags fluttering in the wind, layered amidst the shade of the dense forest.

"I had thought I'd see devastation along the way—broken walls, ruined villages… Yet to my surprise, they haven't committed a single transgression."

Throughout history, soldiers often pillaged and plundered where they camped. Burned-down homes, corpses left unburied, dismembered limbs floating downstream, naked women's bodies discarded in corners, and the ashes of villages consumed by fire—these were not uncommon sights. It's often said that the might of armies charges forth like tigers, devouring territory by the mile, but rarely does one reflect on how they also ravage greedily and mercilessly, akin to beasts.

What lay before Min Ning now, however, was a serene village where dogs barked, chickens clucked, elders rested, and children played—a tranquil scene that left her slightly astonished.

In the alleys and streets of the Capital City, people spread tales painting the Prince of Annan as a villainous tyrant, leading an army of hellish fiends that left no land untouched by ruin.

Thus, the current sight deeply surprised Min Ning.

Chen Yi, however, didn't find it as unexpected. "No matter how much of a scourge the Prince of Annan might be, he isn't like the northern barbarians who raid and pillage indiscriminately when crossing the border. Qin Qingluo headed north to assist Lin Yan's attempt to seize control of the capital. Looting and killing would tarnish her reputation and prestige. With the Empress Dowager An Yi now back in Jingren Palace and the Capital gradually recovering, there's the possibility of a sudden counterattack from the city. Meanwhile, the Prince of Annan is already retreating his forces. This is a time when strict military discipline is of utmost importance—it's absolutely not the moment for soldiers to plunder villages."

The sun was setting, covering the land in a soft golden hue. Chen Yi contemplated for a while before turning to Min Ning and saying:

"Wait here. I'm going to investigate the camp."

With Qin Qingluo and Zhu E likely present in the camp, he had to pay it a visit. But the Prince of Annan's forces were not short of martial arts experts. At his current fourth rank in martial arts, he could handle matters alone. If things went awry, he was confident he could escape. However, Min Ning was around sixth or seventh rank at best. If she followed him, the risks were too high.

Min Ning frowned and thought for a while before she understood the pros and cons, choosing not to argue.

Chen Yi placed his hand lightly on the top of her head.

Min Ning froze, but soon after, she felt a trace of Sword Intent and Blade Intent channel into her body.

Chen Yi drew his hand back. With his ascension to the fourth rank and his comprehension of martial intent, he could naturally share some of it with others. However, this Sword Intent and Blade Intent were far less refined than those of Zhou Yitang.

"If you encounter danger, flee instead of hesitating. Do you understand?"

Chen Yi knew her stubborn personality, so he added the reminder.

Min Ning crossed her arms and didn't respond.

After a moment of silence, she saw Chen Yi reaching out with an intent to tease her, and she quickly shifted away, unhappily saying:

"If I really can't win, I'll run."

That answer was enough for Chen Yi to nod tolerably.

He dismounted, activated Qinggong, and darted toward the military camp nestled in the forest.

......…

The commander's tent was situated deep within the main camp, separated by a series of empty tents, far removed from the general encampment.

From the drill yard, the sound of weapons clashing echoed continuously. Even if the army could no longer pose a threat to the Capital, the soldiers trained tirelessly. That was the essence of military discipline. If a shift occurred one day, the army had to remain steadfast. Only by maintaining daily routines and consistency could the soldiers' morale and resolve be preserved.

A tall figure clad in armor stood on high ground, scanning the drill yard before lowering his serpent-like eyes, seemingly counting heads.

"Where is Qin Liancheng?"

The Prince of Annan asked, his voice low and heavy.

A subordinate nearby glanced around before reporting, "In recent days, the deputy commander led his personal guards out of camp for reconnaissance."

"Our scouts serve that purpose. Why would he act independently?" The Prince's tone grew colder as he added, "It seems in my absence, military discipline here has faltered."

The officer meekly assented with a soft, "Yes, Your Highness."

"When he returns, sentence him to thirty lashes, and twenty lashes for all involved." The Prince stated curtly, his orders absolute.

The officer hesitated and murmured, "Your Highness, that is your nephew… Besides, his actions, though misguided, stemmed from good intentions. If he is punished, the elders of the clan might object…"

This time, the Prince said nothing. He cast a sharp glance their way instead.

The officer immediately fell silent, visibly nervous.

As the Prince turned toward his tent, the officer only let out an anxious sigh, internally remarking that Qin Liancheng was bound for trouble. The northern campaign had yielded little but frustration, and in the Prince's brief absence, morale in the camp had wavered. Perhaps as a result, the Prince had grown even more aloof, devoid of leniency, and uncompromising.

Pulling aside the curtain, Qin Qingluo hesitated to remove her armor or dismiss her disguise and Illusion Technique. Her gaze lowered slightly as she approached the tent, her steps growing slower with each one.

Weeks of encampment had transformed the commander's tent into a functional yet compact space, with screens and dividers separating areas for meetings, study, rest, and even bathing—though small, it was well-appointed.

Each time she brushed past a screen, Qin Qingluo hesitated, her hand faltering momentarily.

When she finally reached the innermost section, she saw, through a veil of gauze, a woman in red kneeling in devout prayer. Her hands were clasped, her head lowered, revering deeply her chosen deity. Qin Qingluo didn't need to listen to know whom she prayed to.

Though the An Nan Royal Mansion had deep ties with the Divine Sect, Qin Qingluo herself felt little affinity for such beliefs. To the outside world, the Divine Sect was deemed a Demon Sect—a thorn in the flesh of both the Great Yu imperial court and broader society. To use their resources was acceptable; to fully embrace them was not. Furthermore, Qin Qingluo had always lacked reverence for gods or Buddhas. Upon inheriting her title, she cut off the mansion's sponsorships for Daoist Temples and Buddhist Temples alike.

Hearing the repetitive prayers now, Qin Qingluo's eyes dulled, a faint shiver crawling up her spine.

She quietly clenched her fists.

When Zhu E finished her prayers, Qin Qingluo finally pulled aside the curtain and softly addressed her:

"Aunt Zhu."

Zhu E raised her eyes, her gaze as captivating as ever. After what had transpired, her beauty seemed to possess an even more striking allure.

The woman in red looked at Qin Qingluo as she approached, noting her exhaustion and softly rose, murmuring:

"Your Highness, you look tired…"

Qin Qingluo responded with a deadpan calm, "During my absence these last few days, the affairs here have been neglected. Morale has wavered, discipline loosened. The mansion at the Southern Border is likely no better—those meddling old folk seizing their chance to stir trouble. All will be dealt with once we return victorious. If the new year is favorable, everything will shimmer anew again."

She referred vaguely to the mansion as the Southern Border instead of calling it by its precise name. Zhu E understood—it was because this Prince never considered it home, only half a cradle of ambition.

Zhu E nodded slightly and reached out with delicate intent to smooth the furrow in Qin Qingluo's brow.

Qin Qingluo instinctively paused and allowed the gesture to unfold. As her thoughts raced, she suddenly withdrew half a step. Just as she was preparing to retreat further, she caught herself and stopped, her intent shifting several times in seconds. Ultimately, the woman in red did touch her brow and gently eased its tension.

"Your Highness, I'm sorry…" Zhu E whispered.

"…It's nothing." Qin Qingluo murmured, pausing briefly before asking, "Are you still unwell?"

Zhu E smiled faintly and shook her head, replying:

"Unwell? Not at all. As for what happened… I'm too overjoyed to feel anything but delight."

The smile stung Qin Qingluo.

The response seemed to pull Zhu E into her memories, her brow arching slightly as if she were a favored consort reliving an indulgent moment within the palace.

The Demon Sect Saintess pressed lightly against her abdomen, a blissful smile overtaking her as she murmured to herself:

"Your Highness, do you think there's a chance I may be carrying his child here?"

Qin Qingluo was silent. She knew this woman, born of the Divine Sect, had been raised from birth with unwavering faith in the Bright Venerable. At twelve, she was consecrated as the Saintess of the sect, spending three years immersed in scripture and prophecy concerning the Bright Venerable's rebirth.

Qin Qingluo reached out slightly, her hand pausing mid-air before withdrawing. Still armored, the woman's raspy tone followed:

"Only one encounter. There won't be any child."

Zhu E, however, grasped her retreating hand, replying in a fervent tone:

"But what if there is really a child?"

To Zhu E, that man represented the Bright Venerable. As the Saintess, it was her ultimate duty to bear the progeny of the sect's divine savior.

Qin Qingluo froze momentarily, an icy sensation coursing down her spine.

She remained silent for some time before finally replying:

"…He will be added to the Qin family's genealogy."

Facing her painfully deliberated words, Zhu E's fanatical expression faltered briefly.