My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 128 - 109: Chen Yi’s Filial Devotion

Chapter 128: Chapter 109: Chen Yi’s Filial Devotion

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"What? He—he actually did that?"

Yin Tingxue was startled after hearing the events from Min Ning.

She could never have imagined that Chen Yi would attack and kill Yin Sword Mountain’s Sword Armor.

Did the words she said to him that night leave no mark on his heart?

Thinking about this, Yin Tingxue felt a sudden pang of disappointment.

It was as if... she suddenly realized that she wasn’t as important to Chen Yi as she had thought... Those feelings of having a place in his heart were nothing more than an illusion.

"Still, later on, he went inside with her,"

Min Ning said, noticing her shifting expression.

Hearing this, Yin Tingxue’s expression eased, and she raised her eyebrows slightly,

It seemed she wasn’t entirely insignificant and still held some degree of importance...

Min Ning gazed at the tightly shut bronze doors with a solemn expression.

She had lent him her purity of mind, hoping to imbue him with some righteousness, yet she never expected him to make such a choice.

Even though entering meant losing all agency inside, he still went forward.

"Did I... make a mistake?"

Her heroic brows knitted together, and Min Ning showed traces of worry,

"Should I not have lent him that blade?"

Though rationally, she understood that it was unlikely he would turn righteous simply because she lent him a blade. Truthfully, he hadn’t shown any aura of righteousness; otherwise, he wouldn’t have attacked the Sword Armor.

His actions seemed driven by accumulation—many influencing factors rather than just her alone.

Yet, Min Ning couldn’t help but worry about it.

That’s just the way she was.

"This time, I fear there’s little hope for him."

Min Ning murmured softly.

Upon hearing this, Yin Tingxue rejoiced.

Little hope? That would be perfect; he should have little hope!

Let him sever the Three Corpses, turn into a good person, and stop tormenting her like that.

Min Ning noticed Yin Tingxue’s delight and felt conflicted. She now stood on Chen Yi’s side, unwilling to see this outcome, yet she also felt an inexplicable guilt toward the young girl.

"I’m sorry."

Min Ning said.

Yin Tingxue looked puzzled.

"I didn’t stop him from taking you away at the time, nor did I help you escape later,"

Min Ning spoke softly.

The young woman opened her mouth in surprise, then forced a weak smile and shook her head lightly. Only she knew the bitterness in her heart.

Luckily, she was easily pleased and not truly resolute; otherwise, she wouldn’t have held out for only so long.

Leaning against the stone bridge’s pillar, Yin Tingxue rubbed her face, propped her chin up, and stared at the doors, her thoughts turning to Yintai Temple. She couldn’t stop longing to return; now all she wished was to quickly return to the Capital City, with Chen Yi bringing her along after severing the Three Corpses. And if possible, she hoped he’d set her free.

But what if Chen Yi failed to sever them?

The thought of this possibility suddenly struck Yin Tingxue, causing her to shudder.

Master Zhou had said his lower corpse was unusual. That True Yuan Lord had also mentioned his strong sense of self. If something went wrong and he failed...

Wouldn’t he torment her for the rest of her life?

Yin Tingxue found her face sinking as she thought further. Then she pictured an even more terrifying prospect.

If he failed to sever the Three Corpses, what would happen to Master Zhou?

She likely wouldn’t die, but... she might face something dreadful.

Yin Tingxue felt miserable just thinking about it. She’d always admired the reticent Master Tongxuan, maybe even had a touch of innocent reverence.

Would that villain target not only her but also the person she admired?

Her thoughts wandered uncontrollably. She recalled the moments in bed when Chen Yi often made her grip the bedframe, tormenting her until she collapsed onto it. His bullying had gone on for so long that, despite her resentment, she’d reluctantly grown accustomed to it. But Master Zhou...

Master Zhou only had one hand!

She had always surrendered to his whims, yet she was still pushed to such a state. What if he decided to torment Master Zhou too, forcing her to use a single hand on the bedframe?

One hand gripping—it would be so agonizingly exhausting...

Imagining Chen Yi’s smug demeanor made Yin Tingxue’s heart pound with unease, and the more she thought about it, the worse she felt.

"No, no, no, it won’t happen. She’s ranked ninth under the heavens."

Yin Tingxue rubbed her cheeks, trying to clear her mind. Even so, an undefinable tension lingered.

By the riverside downstream, someone else was also gazing at the bronze doors. It wasn’t Yin Weiyin or the empress, as the female crown was meditating, and the latter remained unconscious.

The one staring at the doors was Lin Wanxiao. Her small figure trembled as she heard the sound of the flowing water, clutching her stomach and nearly doubling over to retch. When she fainted, the last thing she heard was Chen Yi kicking Lin Yan’s corpse into the current.

He had kicked it straight into the dark river, leaving her no chance to bury the body.

She realized she’d have to live as a widow, and under the weight of societal norms, widows could hardly step beyond their homes without attracting judgment. Even the occasional outings granted to ordinary married women—with their maids in tow to enjoy an opera—would be forever out of reach. Instead, widows remained confined, stitching embroideries, the sound of needle piercing through silk thread suffocating so many.

Listening to the flowing water, Lin Wanxiao’s hand grew clammy, goosebumps rising. Her closed eyes replayed Chen Yi’s cold voice alongside the sound of blood splattering.

"When will he die? Will he die inside here?"

She had never entertained violent thoughts,

but for the first time, she truly wished for someone’s death.

.........

On the day he died, she breathed a sigh of relief.

In her thin robe, Zhou Yitang reminisced, turning her head to look at Chen Yi.

He was still deeply asleep, not yet awake,

a dim and faint glow fell on his profile. He had followed her into the door of death and rebirth, fully aware of her intentions, yet now slept defenselessly.

Just like in her past life, Zhou Yitang had countless opportunities to kill him. It didn’t require advanced swordsmanship—only a single hairpin thrust would suffice. She had resolved to act many times, but at the crucial moment, she always hesitated.

Chen Yi’s face entered her gaze, and the one-armed woman looked silently, unsure of how long passed before her hand instinctively reached out. A mere light touch made her recoil instantly, as if burned.

She turned away, silently reciting mantras to calm her mind. Zhou Yitang avoided looking at him. She hated him deeply, to the bone, feeling that even touching him might drive her to strangle his neck to shards. She chanted her hatred, unwilling to touch him, yet her thoughts twisted and turned, and as she glanced back at him once more, her hand reached out again instinctively.

Her fingertips brushed his face, and Zhou Yitang stared vacantly, as if trying to confirm this was not an illusion in the rippling waves.

As always, she only dared to stroke his cheek while he slept.

Zhou Yitang recalled his early days at Yin Sword Mountain. How likable he had been back then, full of filial devotion; even Lu Ying—the seemingly detached yet proud senior sister—had been won over by his care. Though his talent was mediocre and his killing intent strong, beyond these flaws, he had been the ideal student.

But later...

The memory of the crisp snap of the Ruoque Sword momentarily trembled the fingers that hovered over his cheek.

"Forget it. Once his self-attachment is resolved and his Three Corpses severed, let bygones be bygones."

With this thought in mind, Zhou Yitang brushed his lips almost unintentionally.

At that moment, Chen Yi stirred slightly, groggily turning over.

She withdrew her hand and returned to her original sleeping spot. The two slept on opposite sides—one near the left wall, the other near the right—separated by six feet.

Soon, she noticed Chen Yi shifting again, as if waking mid-sleep. Zhou Yitang lay down on her robe spread across the ground, closed her eyes, and feigned sleep.

Qi Refinement practitioners needed calm minds, and Master Tongxuan mastered this art well. Her breathing was steady, indistinguishable from genuine slumber.

Relaxing her mind, Zhou Yitang then sensed Chen Yi shuffling closer.

She felt tense but maintained her guise, puzzled.

Then, she felt Chen Yi tugging at the robe spread across the ground. Moments later, he draped it over her, carefully tucking her in.

He was worried about her catching cold.

The one-armed woman’s eyelids twitched, and a wave of emotion washed over her heart.

The gesture was too familiar. He had always been thoughtful like this. Even as his wolf-like ambition became clear, his visible and hidden care left her with little room to fault him.

Even Lu Ying paled in this regard.

"Master..."

Chen Yi murmured softly,

"...I really do miss you."

The one-armed woman pretended to sleep.

No one understood better than her how frighteningly tender he could be in the moments she chose to ignore.

He fell silent, gazing at her sleeping face.

Chen Yi extended his hand, seemingly aiming to touch her face.

Zhou Yitang kept her eyes closed... waiting.

After briefly stroking her face, he withdrew his hand, tightened the robe he had cast over her as if worried she might brush it off in her sleep.

Warmth surged in Zhou Yitang’s heart.

Then he reached out again, a second time, as if to gently caress her cheek.

But this time... his hand slid downward.

"..."

As his hand truly approached, Zhou Yitang trembled internally, shock rendering her speechless.

Her ears burned bright red; she gritted her teeth.

A faint, tingling sensation spread over her chest.

This insolent disciple truly had filial piety—piety enough to reach her heart!