My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 160 - 140: Won’t Stand for This Insult

Chapter 160: Chapter 140: Won’t Stand for This Insult

Chen Yi glanced at the corpse on the ground.

The old beggar’s final words before his death were that the world’s oldest profession is selling oneself, and the second is killing.

Many people enjoy both professions, especially when others sell themselves to them while they kill another group.

Chen Yi felt a similar sentiment.

Although his master, Zhou Yitang, had severed his corpse energy and extinguished his killing intent, Chen Yi still needed to kill.

As blood dripped from the Hou Kang Sword, a blade for killing, Chen Yi couldn’t help but question whether, with his current mindset, he could truly master the righteous path of the Yinzai Sword.

He feared that no matter how much True Qi he channeled to simulate martial arts, in the end, it might all be in vain—or worse, turn the Yinzai Sword into nothing more than a killing blade.

As Chen Yi’s thoughts wandered slightly,

the battle between the high monk and Chou Gang was also nearing its conclusion.

The Western monk landed a horizontal punch, sending Chou Gang flying out of the inn. Chou Gang’s right arm, which gripped the saber, was already bloodied, appearing as though his veins had burst.

"Chou Daren, since you have been forced out of the inn, this contest is over. I declare myself the winner. As per our agreement, please leave,"

the high monk declared, chanting a Buddhist hymn as he finished.

In contrast to Chen Yi and the old beggar’s encounter, filled with feints and hidden moves, the duel between the Western monk and Chou Gang adhered to a strict martial code.

The two seemed to have agreed that whoever was pushed out of the inn first would concede defeat.

Chou Gang slowly sheathed his Horse-slaying Saber, clasped his hands in salute toward the monk, and, accepting his loss with dignity, turned and disappeared into the night.

The Western monk turned back to face Chen Yi.

Before the monk could speak, Li Xieling interjected,

"Hey, are you here to save me?"

Li Xieling asked Chen Yi.

"Take a guess."

"You wouldn’t at least let me die here, would you?"

Li Xieling asked again.

"I just killed the one trying to save you."

"Killing the one who was going to save me doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll let me die here."

Li Xieling’s tone was laced with drunken haze.

Chen Yi remained silent.

"I know where the Bodhisattva Sword’s Vestment Robe is. Save me, and I’ll give it to you in exchange for my life."

Li Xieling proposed.

Chen Yi’s gaze fell slightly, his eyes narrowing.

The Bodhisattva Sword’s Vestment Robe—such a tempting offer.

"Why not make the proposal to him instead?"

Chen Yi referred, of course, to the Western monk.

"If he takes me away, it’s a dead end for me. I’d rather take my chances."

"Then take your gamble."

Li Xieling burst out laughing like a fisherman benefiting from a catch, pointing at the two present,

"Let me watch this like cockfighting—a pair of bald chickens, one with neither feathers nor honor, and the other a butcher-chicken wielding sword and saber."

Chen Yi still said nothing.

Li Xieling, one of Joyful Sect’s only three remaining heirs, carried himself with an innate arrogance, detached and observant, as if he watched the world burn from the sidelines.

It was as though he bore the destiny of the protagonist—as long as he walked out of this inn alive, he was bound to achieve great things one day.

The monk turned to Chen Yi and asked:

"Benefactor, do you insist on being my adversary?"

"If we don’t fight, this won’t end well,"

Chen Yi said nonchalantly,

"But there’s no need to fight to the death. Besides, in the Capital Region, there are other Joyful Sect heirs."

The monk pondered briefly before nodding in agreement:

"If that’s the case, let it be like my match with Chou Daren earlier. I shall not use Buddhist Law; whoever is forced out of the inn first loses."

Quite an honorable approach.

Chen Yi inwardly remarked in sarcasm.

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

Min Ning galloped on horseback, engaged in combat.

He drove his blade into one Jianghu man’s chest, yanking it out sharply as another man came at him with a hefty staff.

Min Ning ducked low, avoiding the powerful swing, and then countered by stabbing backward, piercing the assailant’s chest.

"How are we holding up?!"

Min Ning shouted.

"More of them just keep coming, like an endless tide! Min Captain, should we abandon the civilians and retreat?!"

yelled one of the Jinyiwei.

But Min Ning shot back:

"In the Capital Region, how can we allow rebels to rampage?

Can we tolerate letting civilians be slaughtered over our heads?!"

The Jinyiwei formed a half-circle, shielding the civilians being evacuated from the inn.

Tang Kumai had declared they’d withdraw after two incense sticks’ time. Most of the Jianghu fighters had dispersed on their own, sensing they had no chance of securing the treasure. But human desire is complicated—some, driven mad by their longing for cultivation techniques, refused to give up and speculated that Li Xieling’s family might be among the civilians, intending to kidnap them for leverage.

Thus, one rumor spread to ten, ten to a hundred, and an endless influx of Jianghu men began attacking the Jinyiwei. Initially, they didn’t intend to kill, only to pressure the Jinyiwei into surrendering the civilians. But Min Ning, ever steadfast, issued a decisive order as Captain that they must protect those behind them at all costs.

"Reinforcements will arrive soon; hold on a little longer."

With that, beneath the light of torches, Min Ning advanced to meet a rushing Jianghu man.

"Hold out until Chou Daren arrives!"

a Jinyiwei Commander shouted in response.

Spurred by those words, the Jinyiwei fought on, their endurance fueled by their faith in Chou Gang’s eventual arrival.

Yet, at the moment Min Ning uttered those words, the first figure that came to her mind was Chen Yi.

For reasons unknown,

she always thought of him when battling demons, acting with righteousness—despite... him not seeming like any kind of good person.

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

A sword pierced through the air.

The red begging bowl in front of the high monk shattered as he staggered back, one foot stepping across the inn’s threshold.

Chen Yi was panting heavily, his torn robes revealing a body riddled with bruises.

"Namo Shakyamuni Buddha, I have lost. This person, as agreed, is now yours,"

the Western monk chanted, stepping fully out of the inn.

Truly a person of honor.

Chen Yi couldn’t help but feel impressed as he spoke:

"High monk, might you leave behind your Dharma name, so we may meet again?"

"A Dharma name, a mere name—they are all but emptiness,"

the Western monk replied with a laugh, offering no further words before vanishing into the night,

"If we are fated to meet again, know that even fate is emptiness."

His voice lingered, echoing long after his figure disappeared completely.

Chen Yi turned, looking at the half-drunk, half-wakeful Li Xieling.

"Oh? Done with your cockfight?"

Li Xieling yawned,

"Fine, fine, take care of me. If I’m in a good mood someday, I’ll tell you where the Bodhisattva Sword’s Vestment Robe is."

What the—

So arrogant?

Chen Yi frowned. The more he looked at Li Xieling, the clearer it became that the man seemed intent on treating life as a frivolous game.

Li Xieling clapped his hands and grinned,

"Let’s go. Entertain this young master well. With my immense good fortune and countless chance encounters, how else would I have become the Saint Heir of Joyful Sect, been protected at the cost of so many lives, and survived under Peak Master Tang’s watchful eye?"

Chen Yi gazed steadily at him. Then, suddenly, he raised his blade, pressing it against Li Xieling’s neck.

At last, a flicker of tension crossed Li Xieling’s face. Feeling the murderous intent emanating from Chen Yi, he asked,

"Whoa, whoa... Are you going to kill me?"

"Prepare yourself."

"Even Peak Master Tang didn’t dare to kill me. Do you dare?"

"You’re quite well-connected?"

"Very well-connected."

Li Xieling paused briefly, lowering his voice:

"Penglai Fairy Island. Heard of it?"

Of course, Chen Yi had heard of it. In his previous life, he had encountered a Daoist from Penglai, a figure of no small note from Penglai Fairy Island.

Something clicked in his mind, and the killing intent heightened.

In his past life, when Heaven’s Gate cracked open, Joyful Sect’s three heirs had done the bidding of the Demon Lord’s daughter, love and lust fueling their actions. Could it be that Penglai Fairy Island’s shadow lay behind it all?

Li Xieling saw the blade against his neck refuse to back off and burst into arrogant laughter:

"I knew you didn’t have the guts to kill me—just like Peak Master Tang!"

So arrogant...

Hell no—he wouldn’t stand for this!

Chen Yi pressed the blade down, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Do you really mean to kill me?!"

For the first time, the usually detached, playful Li Xieling—ever the one gaming life—showed a flicker of fear in his dilated pupils.

"If you were going to kill me, why save me?"

"I wasn’t saving you."

"Then why go against that Western monk?"

At this moment, a rare trace of shock broke through his demeanor.

Chen Yi merely smiled,

"Because I feared you would survive one disaster only for me to have to kill you myself."

With that, the blade pressed down further. Li Xieling didn’t even have time to beg for his life before his head fell to the ground.

A fountain of blood gushed forth as Chen Yi kicked the corpse aside.

By common sense, he shouldn’t have killed Li Xieling.

He had intended to let Li Xieling live, but as soon as he realized this person was beyond control, he hesitated.

And during their exchange, an inexplicable, gut-level intuition told him that following the usual course of action would surely place him under someone else’s manipulation.

Particularly upon hearing of his connection to Penglai Fairy Island.

"Besides, there are other Joyful Sect heirs—killing one Li Xieling is no big deal."

Chen Yi murmured to himself.

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

Penglai Fairy Island.

The previously tranquil lake rippled gently with a sudden disturbance.

A black pawn on the stone table in the pavilion fractured into pieces.

The Daoist of Penglai’s expression shifted ever so faintly,

"Li Xieling... is dead?"

Li Xieling was but another move in the grand game, a bait cast to see who would bite. To others, it should have seemed like willing prey taking the hook.

With a faint smile, the Daoist of Penglai scattered the remnants of the black pawn into the water. The lake slowly regained its calm.

This Chen Yi...

doesn’t seem to follow the rules of the game at all.