My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 134 - 114 I Can’t Have You Anymore

Chapter 134: Chapter 114 I Can’t Have You Anymore

Countless years of planning, all culminating in this very moment.

She let out a breath of pent-up air, just as she had on the day he died, and finally felt a sense of relief.

Zhou Yitang gazed at him, his expression gradually becoming vacant, and slowly walked up to him,

She was going to have him! The version of him she always desired!

Zhou Yitang thought this to herself, yet as she saw his gaze gradually dim, her heart tightened unexpectedly. Reaching out her hand, she carefully caressed his cheek.

"Did you ever envision this day?"

She murmured softly,

"Had I known it would come to this, was it worth it back then..."

Was it worth it, to break my sword...

She remembered how, when he first arrived at Yin Sword Mountain, he was just a young boy of mediocre talent, utterly clueless about Taoist Skill and cultivation. His comprehension abilities were equally unremarkable, causing her to furrow her brow repeatedly. Even the good-natured Lu Ying would often shake his head at him.

He wasn’t a good disciple; yet there was no better disciple than him. His merit had never been in cultivation. By late spring and early summer, when creeping vines should have covered Cangwu Peak of Yin Sword Mountain, what greeted the eye instead was layer upon layer of red and yellow—a sea of peony blossoms painting the landscape in fiery hues, stretching endlessly.

She stood there, and when Chen Yi turned to look at her, she feigned indifference, nodding slightly, though her fingertips couldn’t help but tremble.

That day, she acted composed, but still couldn’t resist glancing at him a few more times, her voice quietly softening.

But later...

Later, it all fell apart.

He destroyed everything!

He schemed against her and broke the Ruoque Sword she had obtained by severing three karmic ties. Two fingers snapped the sword—first came a crack, then the crisp sound of its shattering. Zhou Yitang found her mind going entirely blank in that moment.

After that, no matter how well he treated her, the resentment of past wrongs still overshadowed the sky. She wanted to touch his face—but only when he was asleep. She wanted to kiss him—but only when he asked for it. Even those vows sworn under the heavens, she waited for him to say them first, always waiting, waiting until now.

Just as when she stood atop the mountain and secretly sang ancient Tang songs, her heart whispering thoughts that awaited another lifetime, another hundred years.

After he died, she breathed a sigh of relief, but in the days that followed, she often found herself staring at his grave in a daze. Then she was startled to realize that creeping vines had unknowingly climbed back over Cangwu Peak, thick and tangled, just like her obsession.

Turning dizzily back, she almost expected to see him standing by the peony blossoms, smiling serenely at her, telling her that every peony blossom across that mountain was planted for her. At that time, her fingertips trembled lightly, he hadn’t hurt her yet, and she was just starting to care about him, when everything was just right.

"My obsession..."

Zhou Yitang murmured to herself,

"And yours, what is it?"

What could lie within his obsession?

Zhou Yitang pondered this, her eyes revealing a fleeting, inexplicable expression. Along the way, she had seen far too many women surrounding him.

What could lie within his obsession?

Yin Weiyin, Min Ning, Empress Anhou, or perhaps... the Demon Sect Saintess Yin Tingxue?!

Zhou Yitang’s face turned uncertain, as if the breath she had finally released swirled back into her chest once more.

She was shocked; she didn’t know what his obsession was.

She only knew what her own obsession was—the kiss that burned in her heart, the fiery peony blossoms across the mountains, the ancient Tang songs, the scenes tied to him, one after another...

Forget it, it doesn’t matter...

She struggled to dispel the thoughts and then began chanting a spell,

"Obsession and attachment give rise to one another, thoughts follow one another, mere illusions of dew..."

This was the spell Yu Zhen Yuanjun had crafted for him, fusing principles from both Taoist and Buddhist teachings.

So fitting, it was as if it was made for him, as if everything was destined.

Indeed, destiny—it began when he subdued her and yet, in one moment of weakness, let his guard down completely against her. Without hesitation, she shattered his discernment of self and attachment—it was he who fell into her hands.

And the Ruoque Sword he had once snapped seemed to yearn to cut him down as well.

She had hesitated, she had faltered, but everything had been forcing her to sever his three karmic ties, including her own.

Yet the breath she raised once more still refused to dissipate.

What was his obsession?!

"In truth, there is no other, nor even self, all is a grand illusion..."

Zhou Yitang chanted the final spell,

"Attachment is broken."

As the words fell, the scene unfolded like a fleeting dream before her eyes: Zhou Yitang stepped into Chen Yi’s obsession, intending to sever it herself.

This karmic entanglement was finally coming to an end; everything was finally going to be settled.

She would have him!

Zhou Yitang was about to exhale that pent-up breath again when,

Suddenly, she saw the peony blossoms across the mountain swaying in the wind and rain, night shrouding Cangwu Peak in inky darkness.

"How could it be me?!"

She froze in place, unwittingly letting two streams of tears slide down her face.

The obsession she was to sever turned out to be the her in his heart!

And Chen Yi,

He, in his daze, found himself immersed in the imagery, seeing the weeping woman standing before him.

Illusion and reality seemed to converge, past and present intertwining—the scene overlapping until she shed tears before him once again.

Chen Yi said nothing, only gazing at her silently, listening to her cry. He remained stoic throughout.

He held an umbrella, watching her cry in the rain. His heart clenched with pain; he broke her sword, kept her by his side, and ultimately obtained what he wanted.

Yet his heart still felt tight, as if he had made a mistake.

Chen Yi lowered his eyes and listened to her weep. Rainwater pelted the umbrella in heavy drops, causing his hand to tremble.

He wanted so desperately to reach out...

As the words "Attachment is broken!" rang out, Chen Yi’s obsession began to shatter—an image rapidly losing its vibrancy, all dissolving into the wind, breaking apart before him.

Everything had long since fallen apart, everything long since unrecoverable.

Zhou Yitang’s cheeks dampened, her soul seeming hollow, void of anything within.

"How could it be me?"

She murmured once more, even as she knew the answer.

Zhou Yitang raised the sword—the very one he had snapped in their past life—and in this lifetime it would sever his three karmic ties, cutting away the person he was.

She suddenly hoped Chen Yi would say something, anything, whether words of hatred or a final tender whisper, anything.

But he still said nothing.

She asked tremulously:

"How could it be me?"

As if in response, as if stirring the last shred of obsession buried within her soul...

Chen Yi, hazily gazing at the woman, extended his hand as the image dissolved, and embraced her.

Zhou Yitang’s eyes widened; he said nothing, but this was his final answer.

Stubborn souls always harbor a fatal flaw. The Ruoque Sword clattered to the ground, lifeless, like death itself. The one-armed woman trembled all over, overcome with sudden sorrow, her heart utterly hollow, tears pouring incessantly. It was as if she understood that some things were no longer hers.

Zhou Yitang let out a desolate laugh,

"Don’t hold me,"

"Chen Yi, I’m going to lose you."

Our vows endure, yet the brocade letter cannot be entrusted,

No, no, no!