My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Min Ning raised her head and saw the person referred to as "Prince," their face cold and stern. Wearing heavy armor, the shimmering scales under the dusk carried an aura of desolation and killing intent. Between the plates, red cords were interwoven, layering and overlapping; even the slightest movement echoed with the sound of clashing metals. A dark cloak draped over the armor facilitated the deflection of stray arrows, seamlessly linking the protective gear.

Such scaled armor was far larger and heavier than ordinary gear—so much so that even seasoned veterans of the battlefield might struggle to wear it, yet it fit perfectly on the physique of the man, whose stature stood over eight feet tall.

The group of elite riders accompanying Qin Liancheng had already been stunned by the imposing sight. The Prince of Annan slowly raised her hand and waved it once, causing more than sixty riders in the distance to gallop forward. Her calves gently pressed against the flanks of the sweat-blood horse, gradually advancing as she drew the spear in her hand. Qin Liancheng's lifeless body slid powerlessly to the ground.

The Prince of Annan stated calmly, "Still not dismounting?"

The elite riders froze momentarily, only to see the sixty cavalry thundering closer, an intimidating presence. Without daring to delay, they hastily dismounted, then knelt on the ground with their heads lowered, sweat as large as beans dripping incessantly.

After surveying the scene briefly, the Prince of Annan finally raised her eyes, glancing at the lone warrior standing against the crowd—Min Ning.

As she surveyed him, Min Ning trembled briefly. What he met were her snake-like pupils. Towering on her sweat-blood steed, she carried an air of dominance that could effortlessly dismiss all beneath her.

"Flying fish robe, Brocade Spring Blade—are you a Jin Yi Wei?"

The Prince of Annan's voice was steady, as if reminiscing about someone.

"I recall having enmity with the Jin Yi Wei."

Min Ning hesitated, his heavy breathing momentarily halting. He tightened his grip on his sword and blade and responded:

"The Prince surely wouldn't harbor grievances against every Jin Yi Wei."

The continuous cries of "Prince" from the crowd left even the dullest of minds certain—the person before them was the Prince of Annan, a rebellious figure capable of shaking the Great Yu's realm.

Min Ning seemed ready to act explosively at any moment.

"Sheathe your blade," she said.

The commanding, authoritative tone carried no anger but evoked instinctive submission. Min Ning stopped momentarily, subconsciously beginning to sheathe his blade before abruptly halting mid-action. Then, he saw the sixty cavalry following the Prince of Annan, all returning their blades to their scabbards.

Breathing a faint sigh of relief, Min Ning's gaze remained sharp as he watched the Prince of Annan.

The Prince appeared indifferent to him, first issuing orders: "Remove those corpses and hang them at the parade ground—for seven days, then bring them down. As for those slain civilians, whoever acted shall die. Compensate the harmed families immediately and carry out the commands now."

The knelt elite riders shivered, but with Qin Liancheng's corpse lying in front, not one dared voice opposition.

The soldiers who received orders mounted their horses quickly and departed for the barracks.

Only then did the Prince of Annan redirect her gaze to Min Ning.

Min Ning observed everything intently, exhaling slightly before saying, "Indeed, I am a Jin Yi Wei. So you are… the Prince of Annan?"

"No need to treat me like a snake or scorpion." The Prince of Annan replied mildly, fixing her gaze on Min Ning and smiling faintly. "You're young, but your martial arts are quite commendable. There's a certain chivalric spirit in you—not bad for a talent."

Min Ning heard this and caught the undertone of admiration and recruitment within her words. However, while he now held some favorable impressions of the Prince of Annan, she was ultimately a "foreign surname prince" viewed as a menace by many. Besides, he was currently tasked with investigating Chou Gang's death, so he replied:

"I appreciate your praise, Prince, but I fear I am unworthy."

"Whether you're worthy or not—those are but mere words."

Min Ning glanced around the area, contemplated momentarily, and prepared to take his leave: "If there's nothing more, then I shall..."

"There is something," she interrupted.

Min Ning tightened his grip on his blade's hilt, raising his gaze directly at the towering figure.

As a fellow martial artist, she could sense it—the Prince of Annan's martial arts realm far exceeded her own.

Min Ning instinctively held her breath, raising her blade and sword defensively before her...

The Prince of Annan remained expressionless. An elite martial artist of merely the sixth rank like Min Ning—such a gesture resembled a kitten puffing itself up before a tiger. She smiled softly, her composure as a foreign surname vassal king exuding a sense of effortless confidence.

Sitting astride the sweat-blood steed, Qin Qingluo asked calmly, "If I were to treat you with courtesy, would you accept or decline?"

Recognizing the vast martial arts gap between them, the sixty cavalry, and considering Chen Yi's infiltration within her troops, Min Ning hesitated for a while before replying: "I never expected to earn the favor of someone of such high standing."

Saying this, she whistled, summoning the steed that had come with her from the West Factory. As it galloped to her side, Min Ning swung onto its back. Now no longer dwarfed by the Prince from horseback, she felt a rush of heroic spirit and said:

"Then I'll trouble the Prince to lead the way."

Qin Qingluo smiled faintly.

The group began ascending the mountain at a slow pace, Min Ning following the Prince of Annan. They rode almost side by side, with Min Ning trailing by just the length of a horse's head. The Prince introduced herself by name as Qin Qingluo, styled Gao Wu.

Min Ning glanced toward the towering figure in heavy armor. Standing on the ground previously, she had seemed tall enough, but the perspective from horseback made her height strikingly apparent. Towering over eight feet, even northern men rarely reached such proportions.

Now that she thought about it, it seemed to be her… first time receiving recognition from someone so prominent?

For a wandering swordsman in the Jianghu, freely pursuing grudges and justice, receiving acknowledgment—without one of these three, they could hardly call themselves a true swordsman. Now standing in the spotlight of someone's recognition—even from a foreign surname king, Min Ning felt a faint sense of satisfaction.

The pair conversed idly along the way. Qin Qingluo seemed devoid of hostility, allowing Min Ning to relax slightly.

"You agreed so readily. Don't you fear my enmity with Jin Yi Wei?" Qin Qingluo asked.

"Hostility belongs to others; what does that have to do with me?" Min Ning replied casually with a laugh. "Besides, your martial arts realm is far above mine. Should you wish to detain me, I doubt I'd escape alive. At the end of the day, drinking to toast beats drinking to punishment."

Qin Qingluo chuckled, her demeanor as light as clouds and wind. Tugging gently on her reins, her sweat-blood steed slowed its pace. From its previous lead of one head, it now rode nearly even with Min Ning, a subtle gesture from this vassal king revealing her ability to value capable individuals—neither overly intimate nor deliberately distant. Even if unnoticed initially, one would inevitably reflect on such details with understanding later.

"You wear the flying fish robe, your rank is not low," Qin Qingluo began slowly. "But do you know someone?"

Min Ning instinctively asked, "Who?"

"An old acquaintance," Qin Qingluo replied, retrieving something from her sleeve. "I have his portrait."

As a Thousand Household of the West Factory, Min Ning knew all individuals within the East and West Factories by sight and name, and recognized about a third of the Jin Yi Wei. Hearing Qin Qingluo's mention of an old acquaintance, the Prince's respectful tone dispelled much of the swordsman's initial defenses. Besides, if Qin Qingluo wanted to act, she could have done so earlier—there was no need for this moment.

Min Ning accepted the portrait and unfolded the paper to examine it closely.

Qin Qingluo's gaze shifted slightly, and soon she heard a response:

"That's Chen Yi—the Thousand Household. I do know him."

Min Ning looked confused.

"But how could he possibly..."

How could he possibly be the Prince of Annan's old acquaintance? When had he forged such a connection? Furthermore, hadn't he even killed one of her spies?

Puzzled, Min Ning was caught in his thoughts while the female Prince's pupils contracted sharply, and her gaze grew heavy.

Her hand lifted slightly as faint killing intent emerged.

But suddenly, she felt an acute tightness in her chest, as if something was gripping it forcefully and twisting hard.

Qin Qingluo let out a hiss, her complexion paling. Her towering figure bent as though struck by lightning.

Clutching her chest, she appeared as though suddenly stricken by illness.

Min Ning jumped in alarm, reaching out to steady her, but Qin Qingluo waved him off, saying:

"Nothing… nothing's wrong…"

Pressing against her chest despite the armor, her eyes revealed a surge of astonishment.

Aunt Zhu… has been discovered?

By whom?

As sudden and shocking realizations dawned upon Qin Qingluo, an icy chill ran down her spine.

Who else could it possibly be?