My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 133 - 113: She’s Going to Get Him

Chapter 133: Chapter 113: She’s Going to Get Him

Chen Yi abruptly raised his sword to strike.

The Qiongqi let out a startled roar.

Its massive wings swept up fierce winds, causing its enormous body to stagger back several steps. Its blood-red eyes were terrifying.

"Damnable beast!"

The Qiongqi bellowed with fury, its voice rippling out like tidal waves. Chen Yi stumbled back several steps, dust erupting from the ground.

Zhou Yitang turned sharply and struck with her sword.

Invisible Sword Qi filled the air before her, rushing forward like rain, stirring a whirlwind of sharp, cutting noises.

Her strike seemed like it would pierce through the heavens, forcing the Qiongqi to retreat dozens of yards. Such fear only served to highlight the celestial presence of Yin Sword Mountain’s Sword Armor.

"Are you okay?"

Zhou Yitang asked.

"I’m fine."

Chen Yi exhaled heavily.

If not for his unwavering determination, if not for his ability to maintain clarity of purpose, he might have fallen prey to this beast’s enchantment.

The Qiongqi fixed its gaze on the two, pacing restlessly across the ground on all fours.

"Roar!"

Its roar sent tremors through the space. Thick stalactites above, as large as humans, crashed down one after another, creating booming craters as though thunder had struck.

The pair swiftly retreated.

When the dust finally settled, the Qiongqi had vanished.

Cautious, Chen Yi surveyed the surroundings, while Zhou Yitang seemed to sense something and stabbed her sword to the left.

The Sword Qi streaked forth decisively, cutting through the air like a green serpent.

The Qiongqi’s face twisted into a grotesque snarl as its body recoiled. It opened its blood-red maw, fire swirling within, the devastating energy rolling outward, reducing the surrounding stone and soil to ash.

The Sword Qi approached like a sheet of rice paper meeting an overwhelming sea of flames.

Yet her sword cut forward relentlessly, extinguishing the roaring flames until it was mere feet away from the Qiongqi, finally dissipating.

The Qiongqi’s eyes glared wide with fury.

After two intense exchanges, it understood instantly—this woman was extraordinary.

Even if it had a seventy-percent chance of tearing her to pieces, it would pay a hefty price.

Chen Yi had already raised his sword and charged forward. His Hou Kang Sword shimmered with a dark aura, its blade seemingly merging seamlessly with its surroundings.

The Qiongqi spread its wings wide, stirring up fierce winds.

The visible waves of energy sent robes billowing, yet Chen Yi did not retreat. His sword slashed through like a dragon, severing winds and rain alike.

The glint of sword light shot across, slicing through and splitting the incoming gale apart, startling the beast into a pained howl.

At that moment, the Qiongqi pondered.

It had believed that breaking this man’s attachment to self would guarantee triumph, but in its haste, it had underestimated its opponent.

To manipulate someone’s mind, it must align with their inner desires.

The Qiongqi closed its mouth briefly and then whispered forth its demonic voice,

"You don’t want to kill her, but you should at least teach her a lesson."

"If you cannot sever your emotional entanglement with your sword, why not ascend Mt. Wu with her and indulge in ecstasy?"

"Go, isn’t this exactly what you desire?"

Chen Yi’s steps suddenly froze.

Zhou Yitang immediately narrowed her gaze like a blade, her sword’s tip seeming ready to aim at Chen Yi at any moment.

Chen Yi’s figure swayed as he was about to turn, but he abruptly twisted back.

"Do you really think you can control me so easily?"

He sneered grimly.

"I have my own thoughts for my own corpse."

With that, he stepped forward heavily.

Chen Yi swung his sword toward the Qiongqi’s face once more.

The sound of the sword cutting through the air screamed aloud. The Qiongqi’s incredibly tough flesh melted away like water the instant the tip of the Hou Kang Sword touched it.

The beast roared in agony, its massive body spinning violently as the shockwaves knocked Chen Yi backward.

Zhou Yitang slashed through the wind with her sword.

Her Sword Qi lashed out immediately; the Qiongqi lept upward abruptly but was half a step too slow. The sword’s edge cut through its tail with startling precision!

Blood gushed forth, sizzling as it hit the ground, burning the earth beneath it.

The Qiongqi flapped its wings wildly, retreating dozens of yards amidst a cacophony of screeches, its crimson pupils alight with killing intent.

It had been pushed to such humiliating desperation by just two humans.

Seething rage erupted, and as the Qiongqi hissed and exhaled, streams of thick scarlet mist formed atop its colossal body—the essence of the beast’s own blood transformed into a curse. Wherever it touched the ground, one could hear the sizzling of corrosion.

Zhou Yitang immediately began chanting the Golden Light Body Protection Spell, while Chen Yi’s golden Shariputra emitted radiant Buddha light.

As the Qiongqi’s mist collided with their golden light, sparks and booming explosions resonated throughout the space.

The Qiongqi, enraged, condensed the mist into dense clusters before hurling them outward.

Waves of energy surged forth, rattling even the heavy doors of ancient burial chambers.

Zhou Yitang and Chen Yi retreated quickly, avoiding the incoming barrage.

With a flicker of movement, the Qiongqi lunged, flapping its wings. The ancient beast vanished from its previous spot, only to reappear directly in front of Chen Yi.

A burst of cold light exploded, its razor-sharp claws gleaming like golden blades, poised to tear Chen Yi apart.

Chen Yi raised his sword to block, their clash triggering a deafening boom that sent him flying backward, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

Zhou Yitang’s pupils contracted. Her sword followed swiftly.

Sword Qi sliced across, the ground splitting open with several gashes as it streaked toward the Qiongqi.

The Qiongqi let out a piercing cry. As the Sword Qi closed in, its massive jaws abruptly shut tight, and then, it released its demonic voice once more.

Its aim was to slay the companion and exploit the vulnerabilities in her Dao Heart.

Since the martial artist could not be enchanted, the demonic beast chose to target the female crown instead.

As the demonic voice escaped its mouth,

"You don’t want..."

The Qiongqi suddenly stopped short, staring in disbelief at this sword-wielding figure from Yin Sword Mountain.

Such deep-seated obsession!

Her sole focus was killing him all along?!

The boundless Sword Qi had already reached its target, blasting open a bloody mist across the Qiongqi’s back!

Zhou Yitang remained unwavering in her focus.

She had been prepared for this.

The Qiongqi had attempted to enchant her using demonic whispers to compel her into allying with it to kill Chen Yi, intending to cause her Sword Qi to falter and trigger a self-destructive backlash. Yet at that moment, her thoughts intertwined, and unending waves of resentment surged from her Heart Lake.

"Roar!"

The Qiongqi cried out in anguish.

For thousands of years, countless individuals had ventured into the Tushan Underground Palace, dozens of whom had reached its main burial chamber. Among them, the beast had encountered those with unyielding resolve—but never anything as unfathomable as this.

Chen Yi had already risen from the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his entire body resonating with bone-deep vibrations.

Despite the pain, he charged forward once more, ascending the Qiongqi’s body in a few steps to stab his sword directly into one of its crimson eyes.

Beast blood exploded outward, eating away at the air itself, but the golden glow of the Shariputra Buddha light surged in brightness, driving it all away.

The Qiongqi let out an agonized and despairing howl, its massive frame trembling as it crashed to the ground, sending clouds of dust scattering.

As it tried to stagger upright once more, another torrent of Sword Qi descended.

The fragile wing on one side of its body was severed cleanly, erupting in a mist of blood.

The Qiongqi’s vocal cords trembled as though in supplication, yet Chen Yi, who had been thrown down earlier, once again charged forward. His sword swept through the gale and sliced, shattering its other eye to pieces.

The Qiongqi’s body convulsed, its mind blank, its blood reversing course. Fueled by unbearable rage, it recognized its inevitable demise and resolved to detonate its Demon Core, destroying their minds completely.

Just as its consciousness struggled to summon the core’s power... an overwhelming pressure descended.

As though guided by some unseen force, a half-step Sword Immortal had left behind meticulous arrangements targeting this very moment.

In despair, as its thoughts extinguished, a sword plunged toward its face.

The beast’s dying whimper was choked back; before the sound could escape, its entire head was cleaved apart.

Beast blood splattered outward, losing its corrosive potency as life drained from the Qiongqi’s form.

Chen Yi exhaled heavily, his torn robes and trembling skeletal frame bearing unmistakable signs of mortal exhaustion—the ancient beast’s might was monstrous.

A crimson Demon Core slowly floated out from the Qiongqi’s remains.

Chen Yi eyed the core and extended his hand to retrieve it.

Yet in that instant, something dawned on him, halting his fingers mid-air.

He whipped his head around sharply,

only to meet Zhou Yitang’s calm expression.

She spoke but a single word:

"Shatter."

A crack appeared, and the Demon Core shattered into pieces. A deafening explosion reverberated in Chen Yi’s ears, leaving behind a vast and extended emptiness.

The one-armed woman exhaled deeply, releasing an overwhelming air of relief.

For the first time, she felt...

Free!

The moment she had awaited across lifetimes was finally here...

She was finally going to have him.

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

Ego.

From the moment of birth, humanity is plagued by an excess of ego, constantly fixated on the existence of the self, unable to grasp that all things bearing resemblance are but illusions.

Attachment to the self precludes transcendence; hence Buddhist monks must shatter the ego.

The instant the Demon Core shattered, countless thoughts, emotions, and transformations swirled chaotically within Chen Yi’s mind. Winds of torment swept from west to east.

Ultimately, they forced Chen Yi deep into the recesses of his soul, where silence suddenly overtook him.

It felt as though his soul had been severed, isolated in an abyss, eerily calm.

Chen Yi tried to cry out, but there was no reply—the sound dissolved into nothingness.

Emptiness. Emptiness within emptiness.

For a brief moment, pain so sharp it felt unbearable seized him, as memories of the shattered Demon Core replayed within his mind.

Was it hatred?

But hatred—hatred is merely a kind of passion.

The decisive look Zhou Yitang had when she shattered the core mirrored his own expression from when he had once broken her sword.

Both began with a crack and ended in a sharp shattering sound, followed by a void in his consciousness.

It felt like... a massive cloud passing across the sky,

the cloud moving on, leaving only the sky behind.

A quiet sense of Zen enveloped his thoughts; Chen Yi was flooded by a death-like tranquility.

At that moment of peace, he felt everything had run its course—the days fulfilled, as though achieving nirvana, monks glimpse their lifetime’s attachments, peeling away layers of ego.

First came Yin Weiyin, Min Ming, Lin Wanxiao, then Min Ning, Hou Kang Sword, and then Yin Tingxue...

One scene after another passed before him, though fleeting impressions did not cut the deepest.

The images began to change.

Like wandering through fleeting episodes of memory, Chen Yi’s consciousness blurred, leaving only the appearance of a single woman—the one he had revisited endlessly in his thoughts.

Torrential rain poured down, winds howled, peony blossoms swayed incessantly beneath the beating storm, thick darkness engulfing the entirety of Cangwu Peak.

And then, a crisp sound.

A familiar crack, just like when she shattered the Demon Core—it was her sword snapping between his fingers.

It felt as though everything had crumbled in that one sharp sound. He saw her kneeling on the ground, sobbing. That woman called Sword Armor had never seemed so fragile; he held an umbrella overhead, watching her coldly.

Chen Yi gazed upon this memory.

Back then, he thought time was vast, stretching enough to erase the harm he had inflicted.

Yet he had been wrong—she remembered, even in the next life.

After her sword had been broken, there had been moments of respite between them, even vows sworn in passion. But even promises drawn from the Song of Geseng...

She was still waiting for the next life, still waiting a hundred years hence.

Back then, Chen Yi had stood in silence, suspecting that the one-armed woman harbored no lingering tenderness.

Perhaps it was meant to be this way; he had caused her such deep anguish, breaking the living sword into two pieces—a weapon that had embodied her life’s purpose.

Yet at dawn, he suddenly heard her singing.

"Summer days, winter nights, a hundred years hence, returning finally to her abode..."

Was that not Geseng?

The woman who hated him to her very core stood on the mountain’s summit with her eyes shut, turning away her face. Just like the Tang people of old, she faced the fiery colors of autumn leaves and softly hummed the Song of Geseng, all on her own.

"Winter nights, summer days, a hundred years hence, returning finally to his chamber."

Chen Yi... we must each live through our cycles of spring and autumn, waiting for the next life, waiting a hundred years hence.

Like how the goose leaves footprints on snow, faint imprints of a fleeting moment—this was his most beautiful memory of her. When he saw her like this, unspeakable guilt surged in his heart, and he realized how deeply he had wronged her.

Ever since that day, the torrential rain and the image of the one-armed woman crying in the storm became his deepest obsession.

That memory replayed incessantly, filling him with regret for not holding her in her most vulnerable moment.

The two of them seemed so close to embracing, as though only a single action separated them. Even though breaking her sword had shattered everything between them, he still longed to hold her.

A cup of sorrow, years of separation;

Mistake, mistake, mistake...