My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

"Now that we're in Jinya Pavilion, it's best to give Mr. Li some face; let's not trouble each other."

Li Jisheng responded with flattery:

"It's still the Prime Minister who can stomach grievances like water carrying ships—so many enmities, all turned to jest."

"So many enmities, all turned to jest."

Qin Qingluo sneered inwardly. If all enmities could truly turn to jest, then Chen Yi would have long been reduced to ashes. Minor feuds, petty grudges—they seemed laughable even to her own ears. But he took her title as Princess and humiliated her relentlessly. If not for the needs of the situation, she would have returned to the Southern Border ages ago, keeping as far away from him as possible.

Her desire to kill him was undeniable. Yet over the years, Zhu E was the only one she considered trustworthy. Zhu E carried out many affairs within the Prince Mansion, and there were plenty of Divine Sect disciples mingling within the mansion's walls. Whether it was an ambush, an assassination, or a "borrowed blade" killing, none would escape the Princess's vigilant gaze.

The only possibility was to kill him with her own hands.

But…

Without yet mastering martial strength, what could she do to him?

Qin Qingluo tightened her grip on the tea bowl. For the first time in her life, she tasted the bitterness of hatred to its very core—a flavor that, until now, was exclusive to her enemies. Those enemies, almost without exception, had ultimately been reduced to dust.

The Prince of Annan pondered briefly before deciding to use the small token of greeting he had prepared:

"And yet, this man remains worthy of vigilance. I hope Mr. Li can… test him for me."

Li Jisheng sensed the request fell within boundaries acceptable to Jinya Pavilion, so he inquired:

"How does the Prince intend to test him?"

"I've heard he… has a penchant for women."

Qin Qingluo recollected briefly and replied flatly.

Li Jisheng laughed and shook his head, waving his hand dismissively:

"Fond of women, yes; but not in the way you believe."

Qin Qingluo froze.

Li Jisheng, as though privy to all secrets, began to disclose some details:

"The Prince might not be aware, but Chen Qianhu has a special someone in his heart. Her surname is Min, given name Ning, a Qianhu from the West Factory. He shares a forbidden affection with this Min Qianhu.

Moreover, Wuyong Building once sent Min Qianhu's elder sister to Chen Qianhu. Yet he remained unmoved. Bear in mind, Min is a woman deserving of the title of Oiran. Her grace and charm are top-notch, yet he showed no interest. How could he possibly have a penchant for women?

I fear the Prince, steering the reins in the Southern Border, may have conducted insufficient investigations regarding the roots of the Prince Mansion in the Capital Region. Mistakenly, you assumed his fondness for women, and thus allowed an error as small as a needlepoint to balloon into miles of misjudgment."

Qin Qingluo's expression turned peculiar, her gaze colder than ice.

Insufficient investigation? The Prince and Princess had thoroughly investigated him together—was that not "deep enough"?

Had it not been for her swollen wounds back then, perhaps she might have actually entertained belief in Li Jisheng's remarks.

But the enmity—how could it ever be spoken aloud? Qin Qingluo replied indifferently:

"I only wish to test him. The method, I'll leave to you, Mr. Li."

Her logic was one step ahead: know your enemy, know yourself. The female Prince's killing intent might currently lack opportunity, but the future remained uncertain. Judged by audacity and valor alone, that man lacked nothing—a type she'd seen much of before. After all, who did not carry some grand ambition in their heart?

But in scheming and perspective, this was the first time she'd encountered someone so… nearly absent. His aspirations had no roots in the court or the Jianghu, but rather revolved around the single word "lust." What kind of peculiar character could forge such a bizarre outlook?

...............

Chen Yi possessed neither enhanced sight nor exceptional hearing. He was entirely unaware that Qin Qingluo and Zhu E had come to Jinya Pavilion. His appearance today was solely to retrieve a piece of golden paper.

With the chaos of war about to engulf the world, Chen Yi, fully aware of the extent to which turmoil could unfold, knew that preparation was essential.

The most critical preparation? Without question, intelligence.

As far as intelligence goes, the palace was unreliable; the West Factory's spies were confined essentially to the Capital City. That left only Wuyong Building. As the one intelligence network within the city that might serve him, Chen Yi was determined to glean more information from it.

Thus, he had come directly to Li Jisheng.

But as luck would have it, upon inquiry, he was told that Li Jisheng was entertaining one esteemed guest and was unable to meet him immediately. Instead, Chen Yi was ushered into a private room to wait.

On someone else's turf, he remained considerate of courtly decorum. Since Li Jisheng was hosting a guest, Chen Yi waited patiently.

Fingers brushed against the golden paper hidden in his garment as his brows knitted lightly. Though he had lived through a time of martial chaos in his past life, in reality, he had experienced only roughly one-tenth of it.

After all, in his previous life, he hadn't chosen to become the Bright Venerable, which left him with the fate of mending the heavens in the end.

As for why events had restarted, or how Zhou Yitang came to call him the Outer Heaven Demon while the Bodhisattva of Medicine claimed otherwise—these were puzzles Chen Yi had yet to untangle.

Such mysteries touched upon the realms of immortals and Buddhas, topics far too enormous. Solving them paled in significance compared to preparing for the martial chaos and resisting the Bodhisattva of Medicine's attempt to "convert" him.

From outside the private room came a series of knocks.

Chen Yi turned his head slightly and said calmly, "Come in."

The door was pushed open, revealing a woman dressed in exquisite attire, her charm radiant and alluring as she lowered herself into a graceful bow. As her head dipped, even her rounded bosom struggled to remain concealed.

"My humble name is Feng Lan. I've been instructed by the Pavilion Master to come serve you, Young Master."

Chen Yi narrowed his eyes slightly. Judging by the woman's exceptional beauty, it was easy to recognize her as Jinya Pavilion's Oiran—even if she wasn't the Oiran, she was undoubtedly among their top performers.

Extending courtesy to a smiling face, despite his vigilance, Chen Yi did not refuse and allowed her to enter the private room.

Feng Lan cradled a zither as she stepped inside. Catching sight of Chen Yi's empty tea bowl, she shuffled over to the tea table, started brewing fresh tea, her delicate hands dancing along the rising steam, the fragrance gently wafting through the room.

Chen Yi, meanwhile, remained calmly seated.

Had this been in his earlier years, Chen Yi might have already shown signs of flustered agitation. But his worldview had since expanded; in this life, he had known physical intimacy with four women—Little Yin, the Prince of Annan, the Princess, and now Qin Qingluo. Any one of their appearances surpassed that of the Oiran by at least half a measure. Furthermore, their status and disposition added immeasurably to their allure.