My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

After dinner, it was naturally time to rest.

At first, Qin Qingluo didn't understand why Chen Yi had asked her such a peculiar question, but after a moment of reflection, the answer became apparent.

It was nothing more than Chen Yi worrying that she hadn't treated Aunt Zhu well.

His excessive worry made Qin Qingluo sneer inwardly. Although she wasn't the type of person to repay kindness a hundredfold, she was never heartless or ungrateful. She had always been keenly aware of how Aunt Zhu treated her.

As for whether or not there was any possibility it was her own doing, she was absolutely certain—there was no chance.

Every time she returned to the military camp, she would take contraceptive decoctions.

Some were brewed personally by Zhu E, while others bypassed her and were prepared by the cook instead, though on the surface, they were declared to be brewed for the princess.

The night was silent, the stars sparse, and a single oil lamp flickered in the study. Anticipating what might happen tonight, Qin Qingluo had no intention of sleeping.

She still recalled that, after the banquet earlier, Chen Yi had first seen the drunken Min Ning to bed. He then returned to the main tent and, without hesitation, pulled Zhu E into an embrace, carrying her into the inner bedroom.

What this lustful ghost intended to do needed no description to be surmised.

Qin Qingluo wouldn't just sit idly by—it would not only be a waste of time but also torture.

She sat cross-legged on the prayer mat, calmed her thoughts, folded her hands together, and closed her eyes.

Reuniting with martial intent—just four simple words, yet incredibly difficult to achieve.

There were far too many masters in the world who had comprehended martial intent and risen to fame in a single day: the Celestial Xu Qi, the Sect Hierarch Gongsun Guan, Yin Sword Mountain's Sword Armor Zhou Yitang, and so on. But those who lost their martial intent and reawakened it again to achieve renown were exceedingly rare. Among them, the name most often mentioned was the Broken Swordsman, who turned a shattered sword into a knife.

This was because the greatest hurdle in reuniting with martial intent was one's own heart demons.

Even with all her pride, up until today, Qin Qingluo had never thought she could achieve it within a few short years.

Yet now, something seemed to have changed.

The person she'd been fighting to the death with all this time had, for some inexplicable reason, suddenly taught her the technique of "Refining Spirit to Void."

This action was not only sudden but utterly baffling.

Qin Qingluo didn't know what kind of scheme he was plotting. In the heat of their exchanges, she sensed he might be prematurely pushing her growth, intending to utterly crush her once she had reunited with her martial intent. Hence, she hesitated and declared her own defeat.

What she didn't expect was that, in the middle of the sparring, the palm extended toward her wasn't a killing strike but bore nothing more than a swaying wild chrysanthemum.

The princess vaguely caught onto something, but before the thought could fully form, she crushed the wild chrysanthemum into fragments.

She and Chen Yi were, ultimately, enemies.

Amid her thoughts, Qin Qingluo slowly entered a meditative state, step by step emptying her mind and sinking into the realm of "Refining Spirit to Void."

To reach the Third Rank required "Refining Spirit to Void," but it didn't mean one couldn't practice the technique before reaching the Third Rank.

Much like how many exceptionally talented individuals had already grasped their martial intent before entering the Fourth Rank.

The state of "Refining Spirit to Void" was about returning martial intent to nothingness, then bringing it back to life from that nothingness.

From nothing to something, from something to nothing, and then back to something again—this threshold to the Third Rank paralleled the philosophy of Taoism, hence the name "Refining Spirit to Void."

Qin Qingluo gradually discarded her distracting thoughts—first Chen Yi, then Min Ning, then the Prince Mansion… finally Zhu E—one by one, sinking deep into the state of "Refining Spirit to Void."

Amid the void, the universe was serene and filled with a wondrous stillness that seemed to calm the heart completely.

This silence was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, like the profound quietude of "great sound is scarce," slowing everything down to near stillness—even Qin Qingluo's thoughts began to unwind.

The darkness wrapped around her gently, and all she could see was a dim glow of glass light, neither too much nor too little, just about an inch in size.

Qin Qingluo gazed fixedly at that inch of luminous glass.

For some reason, she felt as though she hadn't reached the absolute state of "Refining Spirit to Void." The martial intent seemed on the verge of condensing, yet was blocked at every turn.

Several attempts yielded nothing; she even risked falling out of the "Refining Spirit to Void" state altogether. Still, Qin Qingluo didn't relent.

Perhaps it was that one inch of luminous glass obstructing her path.

Soon, within this void space, nothing remained but that single inch of glass light.

Without further hesitation, Qin Qingluo made up her mind and treated the glass light as yet another intrusive thought, pushing it into the surrounding darkness.

She had always excelled at snatching chestnuts out of the fire, and this time was no different.

The encroaching darkness enveloped her entirely.

And suddenly, there were no more intrusive thoughts. Her senses emptied completely.

It was as though time itself had frozen. Qin Qingluo immersed herself entirely, gradually condensing a new martial intent.

Yet it was also because of her complete immersion.

That she failed to notice an invisible trace of karmic residue drifting forth from that one inch of glass light…

It was the handiwork Zhao Bai left behind during their time at the Medicine Buddha Tower, all for the sake of clinging to a thread of life—but in the end, even that small trace of karmic residue could not save his life.

The Medicine Bodhisattva had noticed this subtle interference but chose not to stop it, instead lending it some subtle momentum.

Amid the gathering darkness, Qin Qingluo slowly began to reform her martial intent.

It was a newfound understanding, like the spark of inspiration one finds in darkness.

Martial intent was formless; Qin Qingluo could only sense its existence.

The shattered fragments of her martial intent coalesced into thin wisps of wind, swirling around her, intertwining and forming something new.

Mystical and intangible—something that couldn't be grasped, seen, only felt as a flowing breeze.

The breeze swirled and merged, seemingly gathering into… something.

At last, curiosity got the better of her, and she stretched out her hand to touch it.

But the instant her fingertip made contact, she trembled violently.

Soft, tender, and fractured—

It felt like… the delicate petals of a flower.

Her composure crumbled, and she abruptly opened her eyes to see.

In the darkness, what appeared before her was a swaying wild chrysanthemum.

Held between her fingertips, it shattered into pieces.

Qin Qingluo's heart lake was thrown into chaos, and in that instant, she descended into heart deviation.

The intrusive thoughts she had cast away erupted explosively, consuming her entirely.

The True Qi in her body surged chaotically, rampaging through her meridians in reverse, clashing furiously against her internal acupoints.

At first, Qin Qingluo let out vague snarls, but in the next moment, her body seemed no longer her own and collapsed to the ground, succumbing to searing agony.

Her blurred vision caught a shadow rushing into the study.

Chen Yi, upon witnessing the fallen Qin Qingluo, instantly realized what had happened.

The ever-daring princess had attempted to force progress and now fell to heart deviation while practicing "Refining Spirit to Void."

Without hesitation, Chen Yi rushed over, pressing down on her shoulder and sealing her acupoints.

The human body's meridians were not uniform—they varied in width and narrowness. Securing each acupoint was to guide the chaotic True Qi away from narrow passages and into broader ones, preventing the narrower meridians from rupturing under pressure.

But this alone was far from enough.

Qin Qingluo showed no signs of improvement; her eight-foot frame writhed on the floor, her legs twisted unnaturally.

The higher one's martial arts attainment, the more devastating the consequences of heart deviation.

Such individuals possessed vast reservoirs of True Qi, which moved smoothly through the meridians under normal circumstances. However, if it pooled or surged at any single point, it could lead to complete destruction.

Chen Yi furrowed his brows deeply. Normally, this wouldn't have been so dire, but now that she carried a child, he couldn't allow her to sustain permanent damage.

So, he took a deep breath and pressed his palm firmly against her shoulder.

Then he activated the Devouring Star Technique.

The overwhelming flow of True Qi surged into his body. Even someone like Chen Yi couldn't endure without his blood and energy rebelling, a burning pain coursing through him.

The foreign True Qi was searing and intense, crashing and colliding, coalescing into a concentrated force so overwhelming that even his Dantian felt on the verge of tearing. Chen Yi slammed his fist onto the ground.

Visible cracks spread across the floor as the excess True Qi dissipated into it.

As the surplus True Qi left his body, Chen Yi barely managed to hold on. After a quarter-hour, Qin Qingluo's erratic True Qi finally began to settle.

Chen Yi released her, his face pale, and casually unsealed her acupoints.

Taking out some healing pills from his chest, he swallowed one and sat cross-legged to stabilize his Qi.

The Devouring Star Technique was incomplete; fortunately, only a fragment remained. Were it complete, he might have already sustained irreparable damage—or worse, his meridians might have shattered in multiple places.

After some unknown span of time, he heard faint movement behind him.

Turning around, he saw the tall woman struggle to stand, her face pale as she used all her strength to push herself up from the ground.

But just as she rose halfway, a hand pressed firmly down on her back.

With a muffled sound, the tall woman was pinned back to the ground, her chest pressed flat on the floor. Straining to look up, she saw a face clouded with shadow.

"Qin Qingluo."

His gaze was icy.

"Do you believe I won't utterly destroy your martial intent?"

The princess's snake-like pupils contracted, her trembling eight-foot frame shuddering under his hand.

Her hands shook uncontrollably.

The events at the Medicine Temple were still vivid in her memory.

Feeling the trembling beneath his palm, Chen Yi lowered his eyes, expressionless. No matter what he had imagined, he hadn't expected this princess to be so reckless—to snatch chestnuts from a tiger's mouth.

After some time, she finally spoke hoarsely:

"If you do… you won't leave this place alive either."

Chen Yi sneered.

It sounded both mocking and disdainful.

"What I give, I can take back."

His hand slowly applied pressure, his brow furrowing as if contemplating something.

As he remained silent, Qin Qingluo felt an inexplicable tightening in her heart, like the calm before the storm.

Her imposing figure convulsed, a chilling fear creeping through her bones.

At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed from outside the study.

Zhu E pushed aside the curtain, panting as she rushed in, anxiously asking:

"What happened?"

Chen Yi turned to her, his tone calming slightly:

"She fell into heart deviation while practicing 'Refining Spirit to Void.'"

Zhu E's face turned pale, her lips pressed tightly together.

Qin Qingluo weakly called out: "Aunt Zhu."

As soon as she spoke, the woman in red rushed to her side, her presence stirring the air as she approached and positioned herself before Qin Qingluo.

The princess opened her mouth to speak.

But Zhu E lifted her hand as if to deliver a slap, only to hesitate mid-air and then slap herself instead.

Stunned, Qin Qingluo watched as Zhu E's tears began to fall.

The woman, with a red handprint on her cheek, cried out: "Do you want to break your aunt's heart?"

Whatever pride Qin Qingluo had left crumbled in that moment, her head lowering in silent pain deeper than any physical blow.

After a long pause, she rasped:

"... It won't happen again."

Tears streaming, the woman in red clung to her for a long while before lightly urging Chen Yi to release her, saying gently:

"Husband, let me take her to recuperate."

Chen Yi lowered his gaze in thought, finally nodding and loosening his grip.

Zhu E took a deep breath, supporting the tall figure as she slowly helped her leave the study, step by step toward the inner quarters.