My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"First compare blades and swords, then compare spears," Chen Yi responded flatly.

The female Prince did not refuse, simply planting her spear in the ground and drawing the Brocade Spring Blade out of its sheath. Under the dusky sunset light, its curve was stunning, its cold gleam like gold.

Bamboo leaves floated erratically, chaotically.

Chen Yi also drew his sword.

Between the two, there was not a single wasted word.

The blade was out, and so was the sword.

First, Qin Qingluo's figure suddenly appeared before Chen Yi. Her wrist twisted, wielding the blade with her left hand, its light stirring up the mist like a wide white tide rolling forward.

Chen Yi slashed through the white tide with one stroke.

The sword arrived first, and its shadow followed closely behind. Blade and sword collided, vibrating endlessly, the immense recoil shaking Qin Qingluo's wrist violently.

She shifted to gripping the blade with both hands, her energy surged upward as she pressed against Chen Yi's sword, then pushed the blade downward with raw power, pinning Chen Yi's sword under. Following a bizarre trajectory, she flicked upward, creating an opening before aiming the blade straight at Chen Yi's throat.

The cold gleam was sharp and chilling; Chen Yi expressionlessly stepped back, dodging the strike. His wrist twisted counteractively, locking Qin Qingluo's blade in place.

Chen Yi's movements were as insidious as a venomous snake. Qin Qingluo tried to pull her blade back, but Chen Yi stepped forward instead. He did not rush to break her posture but continued entangling her blade, pressing closer step by step.

The sword's momentum grew tighter and more constraining. Qin Qingluo realized she had been forced into a corner, desperately struggling to break free, but Chen Yi's sword held fast. At last, round after round of relentless entanglement brought Chen Yi right up to Qin Qingluo's face.

"You lost."

Chen Yi said slowly.

Qin Qingluo halted, her eyes wavering in thought, ultimately giving a faint chuckle and replied:

"Indeed, I lost."

Chen Yi gradually sheathed his sword and turned away.

Qin Qingluo watched his every movement intently, her grip on the blade subtly rising, as if preparing to decapitate him from behind.

The cold light reflected off the twilight, merging into the lake's surface.

Clang—

With a killing intent, the blade returned to its sheath.

Chen Yi turned his head just in time to see Qin Qingluo casually toss "Wu Zha Nian" [No Distracted Thoughts] towards him.

Raising his hand to catch Wu Zha Nian, Chen Yi fastened it at his waist.

"I used to train in blade techniques."

Qin Qingluo's serpent-like gaze softened, a trace of nostalgia in her tone.

"I trained for three years; my blade techniques had already reached mastery within the same realm."

"Why did you stop? If you'd continued, you'd certainly have become a Grandmaster," Chen Yi remarked.

They had once debated martial intent; at that time, Chen Yi noticed her instability—she seemed more suited to training in blade and sword techniques.

Qin Qingluo shook her head and replied:

"That time, I couldn't find a master—there was no one left to teach me."

Chen Yi tilted his head toward her, commenting:

"So, you switched to spears."

"Indeed, a lifetime of spears—blade for years, staff for months—spear techniques have always been the hardest and most grueling."

Qin Qingluo turned her gaze toward the distance.

"When I returned with my mother consort to the Zhu family, it was there that I encountered the Zhu family spear techniques."

The Zhu clan of Nanwei was a name Chen Yi had heard before. Even if most hadn't heard of them, the reputation of Zhu Diji, the Spear King of the previous generation, would surely have been known.

After a bout of blade and sword exchange, amidst their idle moments, the two came upon a rare moment of peaceful conversation.

The shadows of bamboo swayed, intermingling with the sound of the cascading waterfall, seemingly accompanied by the muffled beat of gongs and drums. Chen Yi turned his head and saw a funeral procession from the distance.

Among the clinking of iron armor, a contingent of soldiers carried the coffin, with Li Wenhu tightly gripping a broken spear, trailing closely behind the coffin. From this distance, it was impossible to discern whether his expression carried grief or laughter—it could only be imagined.

When Chen Yi came back to his senses, Qin Qingluo had already picked up her spear.

Chen Yi looked at her, not rushing to grab his own weapon, and remarked:

"I entered the Fourth Rank—not for too long—but that martial contest with Li Wenhu allowed me to vaguely grasp the realm of Refine Essence into Emptiness."

Under the waning light, the female Prince's expression grew somber as she replied:

"Good, very good indeed."

"Li Wenhu had no offspring—his only disciple ended up locked in mutual destruction. And in the end... His entire martial legacy ended before your very eyes. In that fleeting moment, did you feel like he'd been pushed into an absolute void, where a person's entire life loses meaning?"

Chen Yi could hardly fathom what he was saying—he merely spoke from the heart, attempting to translate that instant of understanding.

Qin Qingluo listened silently, clutching her spear without moving.

After a long pause, she spoke slowly:

"I've heard about such a realm before. What you described is much the same as what I heard. Looks like it won't take you longer than two or three years to reach the Third Rank."

At the end of her words, Qin Qingluo's gaze had already retreated, leaving an indescribable sense of despair amidst the sound of the waterfall.

Chen Yi looked at her and asked:

"Come, would you like to test that new insight I've attained?"

"I truly am your grindstone," Qin Qingluo replied with a self-mocking laugh.

Then, she raised the spear with both hands, gripping it by the middle section, its gleaming tip aimed directly at Chen Yi.

Chen Yi likewise raised his spear, first pushing it horizontally, then giving it a shake, pointing it straight at Qin Qingluo.

With a heroic expression that carried subtle tension, Qin Qingluo noticed that his stance bore certain hints of "Tiger Slayer Spear" techniques.

Logically speaking, it should have been his first time wielding a spear...

"Come," Chen Yi called out.

Qin Qingluo wasted no time, pulling her spear back and taking large strides forward. Her form was as steady as a mountain, each step striking against the ground, kicking up gravel, smoke, and mist that were swiftly scattered by the sweeping force of her spear!

The large spear swung horizontally toward Chen Yi, creating a grand and imposing momentum.

Chen Yi raised his spear, first retreating half a step, narrowly dodging the strike. Then, tilting his body slightly to adjust their distance, he gripped the weapon tightly and thrust it forward with explosive force, the whistle of piercing air ringing loudly.