My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

The sky had darkened, yet the Prince of Annan called for food to be brought in. Within the guest hall of the general's tent, amidst the flickering candlelight, there lay a feast of fine wine and delicacies.

Min Ning sat uneasily, yearning to uncover the truth and demand answers. Yet here, deep within the Prince's military camp, every step felt shackled, each misstep fraught with peril.

As she picked at her food and glanced upward, she saw Chen Yi conversing cheerfully with Qin Qingluo. Topics flowed easily between them, bringing forth frequent laughter. Min Ning frowned.

How could that scoundrel always talk to the Prince about the Princess?

Such… an impropriety.

No matter how close one's friendship might be, discussing another's wife so frivolously was ultimately against propriety and ethics. After all, a wife is referred to as "the inner person" precisely because she belongs inside, not outside, and should not be freely talked about by outsiders.

After three rounds of drinks and five courses of food, Chen Yi excused himself from the guest hall, citing his low tolerance for alcohol. The Prince of Annan's gaze flickered with an ominous glint, but it vanished just as quickly.

The Prince continued hosting Min Ning as usual.

Qin Qingluo had already changed into informal attire, embroidered with "Cranes Crying at Nine Marshes." The deep indigo fabric matched the meaning of "Qingluo." She picked up a bowl of wine and smiled lightly:

"He's gone. Now let me toast to you alone."

Min Ning, hearing this, remarked modestly that she was overwhelmed by the honor. She lifted her bowl of wine, though she seldom drank. In the rare instances she did, it was often at her sister Min Ming's insistence. Her elder sister loved seeing her unable to hold her liquor, teasing her endlessly when Min Yuechi blushed and pursed her lips in embarrassment.

The wine slid down her throat. Min Ning lightly shook her head, finding that with the first sip, her senses became especially sharp. Faint sounds from behind the curtain reached her.

"Hmm… Brother Yuechi, may I ask, what exactly is your relationship with Chen Zunming?" Qin Qingluo clutched her wine bowl tightly, appearing as though some hidden illness had flared up. She steadied herself after a while.

Min Ning snapped back to reality, her gaze lowering as her mind was suddenly struck by her sister Min Ming's words.

He won't marry me...

"...Like brothers," Min Ning replied softly.

The female Prince curled her lips into a half-smile and asked nonchalantly, "And who's the elder, and who's the younger?"

Min Ning huffed lightly and answered:

"Naturally, I am the elder."

"But judging by your age… Hmm, you seem younger than him… He seems older," Qin Qingluo said, her face slightly pale.

Unwilling to yield, Min Ning furrowed her brows and retorted, "I am his superior. He later became a commander of a thousand households. Besides, I mentored him professionally."

"You hold the essence of a teacher-student bond, though not in title?"

"Naturally."

After speaking, Min Ning took another drink to bolster her courage.

The heroic contours of her face were already tinged with a faint blush.

The female Prince chuckled, her smile hiding blades. She did not strike directly but insinuated, "But he doesn't seem very respectful of you."

"…He respects me in his heart," Min Ning said weakly.

Respect her in his heart? What nonsense. He had never truly respected her. He had once teased her recklessly, and even now, though their familiarity had grown, his flirtations remained unrelenting. With such a man, Min Ning could scarcely think of anyone he might genuinely hold in regard besides his so-called "master."

If he grew ruthless, there was no doubt he would dare to even defy a Prince of different surname.

Min Ning reached for her drink again, only to find her bowl empty. The Prince of Annan continued to pour her wine with exceeding hospitality.

"Oh?" Qin Qingluo questioned.

"…We've had past grievances. Truthfully, there's still some resentment between us. But one day, it'll be settled," Min Ning said, downing her drink. Her expression turned slightly unstable. Somehow, the faint sounds near her ears grew increasingly clear and chaotic.

It sounded almost like… a woman being tormented?

"Ah..."

Qin Qingluo's body suddenly jerked forward, and Min Ning quickly turned around.

Concerned, Min Ning asked, "Prince, are you... alright?"

"Nothing serious. This wine is far too potent. It merely upset my stomach. Ha… I do feel quite swollen," Qin Qingluo said, wiping wine from her lips before laughing lightly:

"However, the saying goes, 'A prime minister's belly can sail a ship.' Let me borrow that phrase to boast my capacity. That's not too far-fetched, is it?"

Min Ning nodded faintly.

Qin Qingluo swirled the wine in her bowl and, lowering her gaze, murmured:

"But this wine is still too strong. It's best not to drink too much. I used to never get drunk, but now that I'm battling a hidden ailment, my tolerance has waned."

Min Ning listened and wondered silently—was the wine truly that strong? She was feeling dizzy but not so far gone as to lose her senses.

Her suspicions deepened.

She couldn't stop thinking about Chen Yi.

That scoundrel… Where even had he gone?

And those sounds...

Could it be that he was indulging in pleasure with a beauty behind her back?

Min Ning's mind froze in place, her eyes stinging with a sudden bitterness. Then, looking again at the Prince of Annan, she realized: the Prince knew Chen Yi well. As a different-surnamed Prince with immense power, it wouldn't be hard for her to find exotic women from Southern Border to satisfy anyone's desire.

And Min Ning understood Chen Zunming all too well. The scoundrel was undoubtedly born a lascivious rake. Having left the hall only moments earlier, it was more than likely he couldn't wait to rendezvous with a beauty.

Min Ning's heart sank bitterly. She gritted her teeth in resentment, her gaze fraught with suspicion. Tilting her head, she strained to listen.

The voices grew clearer.

Her thoughts unraveled entirely, her expression shifting to one of disbelief. Suddenly, she bolted forward.

But at that moment, Qin Qingluo's body convulsed, rendering her unable to stop Min Ning. Min Ning rushed ahead, brushing aside layer upon layer of curtains.

In an unguarded instant, Min Ning caught a fleeting glimpse of what lay within the curtain's depths. Her whole body froze in shock.

Having just gained favor from an influential figure, and yet he turned around...

Before Min Ning could erupt in anger, Qin Qingluo appeared behind her, her voice weak and trembling.

"Did you see?" asked the female Prince.

Min Ning flinched, her expression rigid.

Qin Qingluo forced herself to remain calm, letting out a bitter laugh before delivering each word as though wrenched from her throat:

"I suffer from a hidden illness... the problem lies in this..."

She enunciated each syllable with gritted teeth:

"I... am incapable of..."

Min Ning shivered, emitting a stifled sigh:

"How terrifying..."

She had heard of noble families being gilded on the outside but rotten on the inside, but had never witnessed such filth firsthand. Before this day, even given a hundred guesses, she could never have fathomed the reality of surrogate practices.

And Qin Qingluo remained stoic and silent; her face darkened in the shadows.

She could only grit her teeth and endure.

Otherwise, if word spread by tomorrow that the Prince of Annan—a figure feared as a calamity by the court—had been cuckolded, not only losing his wife but being sullied himself, her kingdom and personal reputation would be utterly tarnished.

"He has always been… loyal and righteous. Initially, he refused, but when I threatened him with death, he finally agreed. Don't misunderstand him," Qin Qingluo said, clutching her abdomen as though attempting to suppress something. She forced a reluctant smile.

"Min Thousand Household, best not to soil your eyes. Let's continue eating and drinking," she said.

The female Prince's empty hand was clenched so tightly her knuckles were nearly white.

She had to cover for the man who defiled her closest kin...

............…

It was unclear how much time had passed.

Qin Qingluo had arranged for Min Ning to sleep in a vacant tent close to the main camp.

Under the dim veil of night, she sat on her throne, her face sunken under the weight of dark thoughts.

In her arms, the Princess of Annan submitted meekly, her expression flickering with teasing amusement. This tableau intertwined with phantom sensations, carving itself into Qin Qingluo's mind.

It felt like a provocation.

Qin Qingluo's fist struck heavily against the armrest, though she restrained herself from lashing out.

The deep silence of the night made any outburst risky—if it awakened others, rumors would spread far and wide: the Princess of Annan was seen in another's arms. It would bring disgrace not only to her but to her mansion's name.

Moreover, there was... Aunt Zhu's honor to consider.

Though Qin Qingluo faintly sensed that the Demon Sect Saintess cared little for her own reputation, the female Prince cared deeply—for she was family.

While she silently endured, a sound came from behind the curtain.

"Come, Prince," a voice summoned.

The towering figure rose slowly, stepping soundlessly into the curtains' depths.

He strode forward like a mighty beast, breaking through curtain after curtain.

In the innermost chamber, Chen Yi sat grinning, his arms wrapped around Zhu E.

Qin Qingluo stood like a wooden sculpture; despite the despair she had endured days before, her heart still twisted painfully now.

Chen Yi lowered his face to press a gentle kiss upon Zhu E.

Zhu E reciprocated with genuine docility.

Witnessing this scene, the tall woman staggered as though about to fall. Bound by the Blood Covenant, she could sense just how obedient Zhu E had become.

After gently setting the crimson-robed woman down, Chen Yi refrained from making her uncomfortable, even showing tenderness—she still had great utility, after all.

Turning his gaze, Chen Yi's eyes landed on the towering woman.

Qin Qingluo steadied herself, her stare brimming with hatred so fierce it seemed she wished to shred him apart.

That man lounged without a care, holding the Princess in his arms.

For a time, silence shrouded the trio.

At long last, a voice broke the stillness within the tent:

"Had enough?… If you have, leave."

The female Prince's voice was hoarse.

Chen Yi smirked faintly, "Done nothing? And that's already 'enough' to you?"

The towering figure faltered, her hands trembling uncontrollably, unable to fully clench—even as though a mountainous weight bore down precariously.

"Though Aunt Zhu seems… unsteady with drink."

In the next instant, a mocking, tempting voice emerged:

"I wonder, would the Prince like to… take her place in suffering?"

Qin Qingluo quivered as she slowly raised her head.

Chen Yi had already moved in front of her, pulling this tall woman closer.

Zhu E watched with a faint smile.

Yet the tall woman couldn't help catching a fleeting flicker of jealousy veiled in those watching eyes as they turned upon her.