My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 110 - 93: Headless Dragons, Auspicious

Chapter 110: Chapter 93: Headless Dragons, Auspicious

Eight golden characters, like chains of gold, bound Anhou where she stood as her nine tails extended. Her eyes turned crimson, tears cascaded down uncontrollably, and without her noticing, blood mingled with the streaming tears.

Amid the blurred flow of blood, she gazed at the Heavenly Altar before her, where blades and swords intertwined. She felt her Three Souls and Seven Spirits fraying and convulsing in agonizing struggle.

She saw someone fighting desperately.

Who was that?

That was... Chen Yi?

The Chen Family of Jin Country... that... Chen boy?!

He was being surrounded and attacked...

Anhou’s head throbbed as if it were being split open. Her voice rasped as though she was desperately screaming out in anguish.

"It’s him, he must die, he should have died long ago, he has to die! I must personally destroy the Chen Family of Jin Country, he must suffer beyond endurance!"

Anhou writhed in torment, her nine tails trembling with her agony.

In a fleeting moment, she caught sight of the twin dragons etched into the three-legged bronze tripod, and her vision blurred as if in a trance.

A fear rooted in her bloodline surged against her will.

No, he is my son, he cannot die, he must not die!

He is my son, he is... Qi?

Again, Anhou descended into confusion, her body swaying.

Wait... how could he possibly be Qi? He is Chen Yi!

... Is he truly Chen Yi?

Is he Chen Yi, or Qi?

The memories of the Tushan Clan seemed to be deeply embedded within Anhou’s Three Souls and Seven Spirits, and in her mind, the figure of Chen Yi overlapped repeatedly with the shadow of Qi.

Anhou clutched at her splitting headache, unable to distinguish illusion from reality.

"Don’t kill him, don’t kill him. No, kill him, hurry and kill him. Wait, don’t kill him... I beg of you, please don’t kill him..."

Her voice grew increasingly broken and restless as she spoke.

All around her, the eight golden characters binding her reverberated like the majestic sounds of bronze bells.

Anhou’s cries echoed in Chen Yi’s ears.

Chen Yi’s mind plunged into chaos, spiraling into uncertainty.

In a momentary illusion, he felt as though he stood atop the bronze dragon chariot drawn by twin dragons, descending from the heavens to bring the Nine Arguments and Nine Songs to the mortal realm.

A sword stabbed towards him.

The tip of the blade collided with Chen Yi’s chest, blood gushing forth, penetrating only an inch into his flesh. The searing pain caused Chen Yi to snap back to his senses.

He nodded briefly towards the female crown.

Then, Chen Yi raised his blade to meet the surging flood of Xia soldiers and Xia generals.

At the heart of a vortex, he attracted and ensnared every Xia soldier and general, dragging them into a relentless conflict.

The female crown called back her paper effigies, while three maidens wielding swords cleared a path for her as she took deliberate steps toward the twin-dragon bronze tripod.

She seemed increasingly transcendent.

On the Heavenly Altar, turbulent winds converged. The golden characters inscribed on the bronze tripod glowed with greater brilliance—the ancient, austere character for "Way," profound and inscrutable, its intricate patterns swallowing one’s gaze like an unfathomable abyss.

She stepped through the battlefield one stride at a time, her path occasionally cut across by incoming blades.

The Taichua Goddess sidestepped like a fish swimming through water, the blade narrowly brushing against her garments but striking only air. Another blade came, but it too missed her.

The gaze in her eyes bore no recognition of the threatening blades; it was fixed solely on the bronze tripod, solely on the character "Way." That was what she had pursued for years... the inheritance of the Goddess.

She evaded every blade as though foreseeing their trajectories, and worldly objects could no longer touch her. Everything slowed down, reduced to nothing more than dust.

In her eyes, the Heavenly Altar was no longer shrouded in infinite darkness. The ancient and broken bronze artifacts seemed to whisper faint echoes of the Way from distant history.

How wondrous...

Why had such sounds never reached her before?

The Taichua Goddess pressed onward, step by step, listening to the gentle tremors resonating through the ancient bronze relics, and moments later, her thoughts wandered to the melodies of silk and bamboo wafting through the Prince Mansion. They had always been so exquisite, yet they had always been far too small.

Ancient Era’s myths brushed against her soul—Dayu taming the floods, marrying Tu Shan Divine Lady, and the Tushan Clan birthing Qi through petrification. Later, Xia Qi replaced Boyi to become the Monarch, yet turned to matricide, dismembering his mother in the wilderness...

Those murals—the stories within were no longer mere stories. They concealed the Way.

The Way is without form, hence all form must be erased in pursuit of its truth.

A fog of uncertainty loomed ahead, like a dream, yet like an illusion. The scenes of the primeval epoch seemed to converge with this moment, as the Taichua Goddess quietly contemplated.

Then, she heard faint sounds of battle behind her and understood it was Chen Yi fighting desperately, just to shield her path towards the bronze tripod—to utterly destroy it.

That was Chen Yi’s purpose.

But...

That was far too small!

Why destroy it? It clearly contained the Way!

He is a mere mortal—he cannot comprehend it.

The Taichua Goddess gradually arrived near the bronze tripod. She turned her gaze and saw the struggling figure of Chen Yi once more, now entering her line of sight.

Chen Yi seemed to sense something, lifting his face to meet her gaze.

His eyes looked as if they were imploring her to destroy the bronze tripod forged by Xia Qi.

The Taichua Goddess turned away to face the shimmering character "Way," its brilliance like radiant rosy clouds, embodying the Way of heaven and earth.

She shook her head and smiled, reaffirming her thoughts...

He is a mere mortal—he cannot comprehend it!

The female crown reached out, responding to an indescribable summons.

A mystical and profound aura enveloped her entirely.

From the dawn of creation to now, everything changes, everything evolves—but only the Way remains unchanged, eternal, neither creating nor destroying.

Man aligns with earth, earth aligns with heaven, heaven aligns with the Way, and the Way...

The Way follows nature! Naturally embracing its course!

The Taichua Goddess extended her hand to touch the ancient character "Way."

She then felt the gaze from behind—it was Chen Yi.

Chen Yi watched her, anticipating her to destroy the Nine Tripods.

But as he saw the Taichua Goddess touch the character "Way," his pupils sharply contracted.

The Goddess’s inheritance, through the character "Way," imprinted itself upon her.

The three-legged bronze tripod emitted massive clouds of smoke.

She grew increasingly transcendent, increasingly detached, as her figure gradually faded, ascending like walking invisible stairs, leaving the Heavenly Altar step by step, rising towards the heavens with faint calls of cranes echoing around her.

Chen Yi suddenly understood everything.

She had used him; she never intended to destroy the tripod but rather sought ascension!

"Yin Weiyin!"

The wounded, battered Chen Yi roared furiously as if emitting a howl.

"I’m sorry."

The Taichua Goddess’s lips moved slightly,

"The Way is within reach."

With those light, airy words, the Taichua Goddess seemed to cast off everything. Her gaze was freed from the interplay of reality and illusion.

She ascended higher and higher, departing for a realm entirely divorced from mortal existence.

On the Heavenly Altar, Chen Yi remained fighting desperately.

Tide-like Xia soldiers surged towards him, accompanied by two colossal Xia generals wielding giant swords as vast as the mountains.

Chen Yi’s eyes turned crimson; he maneuvered swiftly, seizing an opening to step onto a giant blade from one Xia general, leap forward, and decapitate it with a single stroke.

Yet in the next moment, another Xia general’s enormous sword sliced through the air toward him.

Though Chen Yi relied on the Shangqing Heart Method to react, the encroaching Xia soldiers robbed him of space. He had no choice but to twist his body and raise his blade to block. The massive sword descended like a mountain, smashing down, forcing Chen Yi to spit out blood.

It felt as if his internal organs were rearranging.

The Witch shrieked, "Stubborn fool! Stubborn fool!

Qi, kill her! Are you like your father with his virtues? Can you emulate his ability to tame the floods?!"

Their piercing cries accompanied searing pain as they invaded his ears, sending Chen Yi into chaos once again. He saw the figure of Qi standing atop the bronze dragon chariot overlapping with his own form.

They... are forcing me to kill her...

For the sake of... repairing the Heavenly Dao.

The Way of Heaven... depletes excess and compensates insufficiency.

Chen Yi’s thoughts spiraled into disarray, tangled like a ball of thread. Much like Anhou couldn’t distinguish him as Chen Yi or Xia Qi, he too began losing clarity of his own identity.

And this was precisely the handiwork of Yu Zhen Yuanjun and Master Tongxuan.

To emulate Xia Qi’s matricide, to kill Anhou, quell murderous intent, and sever the link to the Corpse Spirit.

The three-legged bronze tripod spewed enormous clouds of smoke, causing the ground to quake. A turquoise dragon buried in the depths began to emerge, its colossal form tearing up the earth, sending countless Xia soldiers sprawling amid waves of dust.

Anhou’s eyes reflected the image of the turquoise dragon, as distant memories pierced through her Three Souls and Seven Spirits.

"Child... Heaven is restless... unpeaceful, unpeaceful burial sacrifice..."

Anhou’s gaze grew murky and disoriented; the memories of the Tushan Clan conflicted with her own, bit by bit overtaking her consciousness. Her white nine tails solidified even further.

She wept tears of blood and suddenly cried out, "Yi’er... Heaven is restless! Kill your mother! Unpeaceful burial sacrifice—kill your mother!"

The towering turquoise dragon charged toward Chen Yi with the force of a mountain, its massive form barreling forward.

In the chaos, Chen Yi raised his blade to strike, but the turquoise dragon, as unyielding as a mountain’s mass, issued an anguished screech against the blade, shattering it and sending Chen Yi flying.

The broken blade flew through the air before landing, swallowed amidst the pressing swarm of Xia soldiers.

The Witch screamed hoarsely, "Kill her! End all this! Heaven is restless! Unpeaceful burial sacrifice!"

Chen Yi crashed to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth.

He was exhausted to the breaking point.

And everything was pressuring him to kill her.

On the mural, the shadow atop the bronze dragon chariot increasingly resembled Chen Yi.

"The Way of Heaven depletes excess, compensates insufficiency.

The Tushan Clan birthed Qi, leading the Heavenly Dao to gain one ’excess,’ hence Qi killed Tushan to replenish Heaven’s ’insufficiency.’"

In a trance, the female crown’s words surfaced in Chen Yi’s mind.

"Qi, kill her, repair the Heavenly Dao!"

The roaring cries surged like violent waves, layer upon layer, crashing toward Chen Yi.

I... am I... Qi?

Should I... kill her...

Chen Yi’s thoughts grew increasingly chaotic, increasingly uncertain.

"Yi’er... Heaven is restless! Kill your mother! Unpeaceful burial sacrifice—kill your mother!"

As Chen Yi was enshrouded in confusion, that hoarse voice resounded like a bronze bell.

He suddenly turned his head and saw Anhou, her face covered in blooded tears, hoarsely and bewilderedly crying. She was his foe but seemed to regard him as her son, even though it resembled ephemeral dewdrops, a mere illusion.

This transient bond of dew-born fate ought to be severed without hesitation—kill her, just as Xia Qi killed his mother...

But,

He rasped, "I am not Qi!"

He was not Qi. He would not commit matricide to repair the Heavenly Dao. He was not Qi; he would not live for the Nine Tripods, nor would he live for the Way.

He rose, standing against the tide of Xia soldiers charging toward him. The Witch raised her staff, crying out, and the turquoise dragon pressed forward, casting its terrifying shadow.

If the Way of Heaven depletes excess and compensates insufficiency, then in that case...

What if I were to...

Kill myself?!

The thought erupted suddenly, as if splitting apart his consciousness, every acupoint ringing like thunder. Maddened, Chen Yi raised the broken blade and thrust it into his chest.

In an instant, the entire Heavenly Altar froze.

The Witch’s eyes widened, disbelief etched across her face as her lips trembled.

"Heaven... Heaven is restless! Unpeaceful burial sacrifice..."

Chen Yi grinned ferociously.

He pushed the broken blade deeper into his flesh, causing the tip to emerge from his back, piercing entirely through his chest cavity.

The Witch’s presumed Xia Houqi, Chen Yi, had taken his own life. The Xia soldiers and generals froze in place as though leaderless.

At that moment, all fell silent. Chen Yi’s lips murmured, striving to utter countless sentiments, but from all his thousand words, only one sentence emerged:

"...I am not Qi!"

With this reversal, chaos gave way to stillness...

Auspicious!