My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 140 - 120: As the Festivities End, You Bring Me Sleep

Chapter 140: Chapter 120: As the Festivities End, You Bring Me Sleep

"Kill him, kill him!"

Li Ping coughed up blood and pointed at Chen Yi, rasping.

Clang—

A long, piercing sound. A blade, unclouded by distractions, slid out of its scabbard, flashing with cold light as Chen Yi advanced step by step.

Mo Hu stepped forward, drawing the two short spears hanging at his waist in a reverse grip. Then, with a sudden burst of force in his legs, he lunged forward like a dragon surging out of the sea.

One spear thrust forward, the other positioned to parry or launch a follow-up attack—a combination of hard and soft techniques. The Youzhou Twin Spears evolved from the Bagua Double-Head Spear, combining brute strength and dexterity to counter blade-wielding martial artists in confined spaces where longer weapons are cumbersome.

In the blink of an eye, Mo Hu closed in, but at the precise moment his spears were about to strike, his face dramatically changed.

In an instant, a glimmer of light flashed past—a thread-thin line—but it forced Mo Hu to come to an abrupt halt. His energy recoiled violently, disrupting his vital points and throwing off his balance.

Chen Yi surged forward and struck with a downward slash.

The immense force compelled Mo Hu to raise his spears to block. Both weapons crossed together, but the moment they made contact, his tiger’s mouth trembled and began bleeding. His feet shattered the wooden planks of the corridor, sinking partially into the floor.

Chen Yi followed with another horizontal slash.

Mo Hu’s eyes widened in horror—what rank was this man? How could his energy be so seamlessly connected, allowing him to strike again so quickly?!

Could he possibly not be listed in the Spring and Autumn Annals?!

The blade moved like a bolt of lightning, forcing Mo Hu to retreat hastily, yet he was still a step too late. His left hand, holding one of the spears, was struck by the blade. Despite his training in external martial arts, the bones in his arm shattered with a resounding crack, sending a burst of blood spraying into the air.

He groaned in pain, his middle and ring fingers brutally sliced apart, leaving a deep and grotesque wound that extended to his forearm!

Chen Yi closed in and unleashed a ferocious punch.

Mo Hu’s entire body was sent flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground.

Li Ping was so frightened by the scene that his liver and gall bladder felt as if they might burst. Mo Hu was a Sixth Rank martial artist, and Li Ping, as his supervisor, had personally witnessed his formidable skills. Yet today, Mo Hu had been so effortlessly devastated.

From the corridor, footsteps echoed. Chen Yi turned his head and saw a group of attendants accompanying Li Ping encircle the inner and outer areas of the walkway.

Staring at Mo Hu lying on the ground, the attendants were visibly shaken. They had never imagined that this Sixth Rank master, who had long served the Prince of Annan, could fall so swiftly.

"One more time: who fastened those four heads onto the horse?"

Chen Yi, holding his blade, advanced step by step toward Li Ping.

Li Ping, sprawled on the ground, frantically pushed himself backward with his trembling hands.

Mo Hu spat blood, propped himself up with one hand, tightly gripped his spear, and stood in front of Chen Yi.

"You—you’re... that West Factory Thousand Households Chen..."

Before he could finish, a punch landed directly on his face.

Mo Hu’s pupils contracted sharply; he managed only to lift his hand defensively.

Chen Yi didn’t like listening to nonsense much. With that punch, Mo Hu’s entire body was sent flying three zhang away, crashing heavily to the ground once again.

The thundering crash resonated along the corridor. Lin Wanxiao trembled from the impact, shaking herself into momentary consciousness. She saw the blood spreading across the floor.

Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground, overcome with nausea as bile rose in her throat.

"Where are the men? Kill him already! Where are they? Are you all dead?!"

Li Ping lay on the floor, shouting hoarsely at the group of attendants to advance, but none dared to respond. Instead, they watched in fear as the expressionless, black-clad Thousand Households approached, sending shivers down their spines.

"They’re all dead..."

Bang!

Chen Yi struck with a punch, breaking several of Li Ping’s ribs.

Li Ping spat out a mouthful of blood.

His spinning head met Chen Yi’s gaze, his twisted face trembling as he stammered:

"I—I serve as the envoy for the prince. If you kill me, you won’t be able to account for it!"

"Then tell me—who mounted the heads of the Jin Yi Wei onto the horses?"

Chen Yi leaned on his blade, posing the question without much ceremony.

"It was the Fair-Faced Gentleman, Cao Jin. He’s at Pingyuan Posthouse..."

Li Ping’s face twisted as Mo Hu struggled to rise nearby.

Mo Hu had risen halfway when Chen Yi, focused on Li Ping, glanced back. Without bothering to turn, he stabbed backward with his blade. The weapon pierced directly through bone and into Mo Hu’s heart, twisting to ensure death.

Blood splattered outward, painting the walls with crimson blossoms.

"Though the blossoms of spring bloom in splendor, all are fated to fall to abandoned ruins and desolation.

The fleeting beauty of good times—whom may it delight?"

From somewhere afar, the piercing voice of an opera actress carried through the air. On the second floor of the posthouse, all had fallen into a deathly silence.

Chen Yi’s gaze turned back toward Li Ping.

Li Ping cried out in panic:

"You can’t kill me—I serve the prince..."

"You’re useless now."

Chen Yi swung his blade again, slashing into Li Ping’s throat.

Li Ping didn’t even have the chance to scream; his pupils had already dilated. "Serve as envoy for the prince" became his final words.

Now knowing his target’s location, Chen Yi slowly straightened.

He then turned his head and saw an unexpected figure. She was clinging to the doorframe, trembling as she stared at him.

Dressed in mourning attire, her paper-white clothing accentuated her frail figure, like a sorrowful white osmanthus cloaked in grief.

Lin Wanxiao stared at the corpses on the floor, frozen in place for a long time.

She saw the blade fall, imagining once again the familiar swish—Lin Yan had died just like this at Chen Yi’s hands. At the sound, her mind went blank.

"For you, seeking the companionship of bygone beauties, yearning for fleeting years intertwined with dreams, lamenting solitude in lofty chambers."

Onstage, the scholar sang, holding a willow branch to greet the noble maiden, promising passion amidst the waters of dreams.

But Chen Yi held not a branch, but his unclouded blade.

"Step aside, sister-in-law."

Chen Yi said casually.

Having killed two men, Chen Yi approached, leaving the attendants trembling with fear, unable to speak.

Lin Wanxiao stared at him, then, her vacant eyes suddenly filled with hatred:

"It was you...it’s you...how dare you kill in the posthouse!"

The black-clad man glanced at the bodies on the floor.

"Acting under imperial orders. Mind your own business."

Lin Wanxiao’s legs gave out, and she slid to the ground.

Chen Yi reached out to grab her arm and steadied her briefly, but she instinctively tried to pull away with all her strength.

He simply let go.

Lin Wanxiao fell to the floor.

Footsteps echoed as a group of Jin Yi Wei ascended the stairs and swiftly secured the area after overcoming their initial shock.

Min Ning approached, his gaze sweeping across the second floor with worry and complexity.

"Li Ping is dead. How could you act so rashly?"

"I’m already being reassigned; why would I care about killing an envoy?"

Chen Yi exhaled and said,

"My name is about to enter the Spring and Autumn Annals. I’ll take this time to visit Pingyuan Posthouse and deal with the next one for you."

He glanced at Lin Wanxiao on the ground, hesitated, and then added:

"Question her first, but don’t rush to send her back to her estate."

With those words, Chen Yi disappeared down the stairway.

"In mutual love, a thousand tender affections and myriad cherished emotions abound."

As the melody lingered, his figure vanished from sight. Lin Wanxiao slowly regained her senses. Staring at the bloodstains spreading across the floor, she finally couldn’t hold back and vomited. Outside, the aria drifted on—dreams mingling with early crimson rain.

The moment had passed like a fleeting shadow, yet with the familiar swish echoing once again, Lin Wanxiao trembled uncontrollably. Seeing the blood pooling all around, her head grew heavy, and she fainted.

"At the end of joy, sleep overtakes me."

Outside, the Peony Pavilion remained unchanged.

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