My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 177 - 156 Her Childhood

Chapter 177: Chapter 156 Her Childhood

By the next morning, fine snow was fluttering down.

Outside the wide and imposing gates of the Prince Mansion, its grandeur was now but a memory, stripped bare by confiscation. A few constables stood guard, as the sprawling estate was earmarked for future use by the Heavenly Family—whether for a temple, a pavilion, or a poetic academy, this mansion was the prime candidate for such plans.

But today, three unexpected guests arrived at the gates.

When the constables saw the emblem presented by the man leading the group, they dared not block their way. Instead, they deferentially pushed the gates open, allowing the trio to enter together.

"Ah-choo."

Crossing the threshold, Yin Tingxue sneezed, shivering from the cold. Her neck drew inward as if to ward off the chill.

Chen Yi glanced sidelong at her. Her frail figure was wrapped in thick clothing, yet the biting wind still left her trembling. She had caught a cold, her body feverish, but she adamantly refused to rest or recuperate before returning to the Prince Mansion.

She had longed to come back, too much to delay any longer.

Since it wasn’t a serious illness, Chen Yi took her hand and smiled, saying:

"Show me around, will you?"

Yin Tingxue chuckled and began to lead the way. Walking along the stone-paved paths, she guided him forward. After the mansion’s confiscation, its opulence had been reduced to a hollow shell. Yet even this empty shell represented a wealth most could only dream of. She pointed to the distant Nanmu Hall, once a resting place for servants. Chen Yi, upon seeing it, was startled—its wood was clearly made from golden-thread nanmu, a kind that was impervious to rot for centuries.

Passing through the Nanmu Hall, they reached the quarters once inhabited by the servants—a three-story structure resembling a theatrical pavilion. The door pillars were painted crimson, and the faded couplets still clung to the posts, though torn. Not far off was the kitchen, comprising five large rooms with chimneys lined up neatly. Yin Tingxue explained that this was the external kitchen. Unless for a banquet, it was used solely for cooking meals for the servants and maids.

Chen Yi seemed half-listening, barely attentive. A snowflake drifted before him, and he focused, catching it between his fingers. Under his profound inner strength, the flake did not melt upon contact.

He pressed the snow against Yin Tingxue’s cheek.

Yin Tingxue paused in her storytelling, touching the wetness on her face. She shyly glanced at him and said:

"I’m talking..."

"You talk, I’ll play."

Chen Yi replied shamelessly.

Yin Tingxue flushed in embarrassment. Even Master Zhou was watching nearby.

Chen Yi, however, paid no heed. Hearing her rare tone of reproach, he leaned forward, slumping part of his body over the girl’s back, pressing lightly against her.

"So warm. Keep talking."

Yin Tingxue stiffened at the weight on her back. Feeling the piercing gaze that resembled a sword from beside her, she grew uneasy.

Zhou Yitang shifted his gaze between Chen Yi and Yin Tingxue, observing the playful scene before lowering his eyes in silence.

He patted the girl’s head, chuckling:

"She’s just a maid now. She doesn’t have the status to make you jealous."

The one-armed woman beside him scoffed at the remark:

"You sure are pushing your luck."

"That’s right, I am. My heart’s fickle like that. Go ahead, be jealous if you dare."

What audacity.

The one-armed woman’s expression darkened.

But teaching this insolent disciple a lesson proved challenging now, with him clinging to Yin Tingxue.

The mood grew tense. Yin Tingxue, fearing that an argument might break out, patted Chen Yi’s hand lightly:

"I need to take you further inside. There’s still much to see."

Chen Yi immediately let her go. She led him onward, stepping onto a winding, secluded path bordered by flowering trees, bamboo, and rocks.

What tarnished the beauty of the scene was the sight of valuable trees either uprooted or felled entirely, leaving behind gaping pits and jagged stumps—grim reminders of the mansion’s plunder.

Yin Tingxue noticed them, lowering her gaze in quiet sorrow without saying a word.

Beyond a cluster of bamboo, they reached an expansive goldfish pond. Not a single fish could be seen swimming within; the water’s surface was unbroken and still, blanketed in softly falling snow that disappeared soundlessly upon contact.

Crossing the pond’s embankment, Yin Tingxue pointed out a courtyard to Chen Yi. Nestled under a canopy of bamboo and trees, the hanging-flower door could be glimpsed. Blushing slightly, she confessed that it was her maiden courtyard from her childhood. Naturally, Chen Yi took a keen interest in her chamber, and before Yin Tingxue could say anything further, he strode over decisively, ignoring her flustered protests.

Chen Yi pushed the door open.

The inside was empty, with nothing remaining but the cold, unyielding tiled floor.

Clearly, everything had been confiscated long ago.

Yin Tingxue followed him in, startled for a moment. Though expected, it was still disheartening. Summoning her spirits, she pointed to a corner and said:

"There used to be a dressing table there. I’d spend hours standing before the mirror. Even when Hong Ling called for me, I wouldn’t move until Mother came to fetch me herself."

Chen Yi returned from his thoughts, teasing her with a smirk: "So you knew you were pretty, even back then?"

Yin Tingxue touched her face with growing courage and replied, "If I weren’t, you wouldn’t have brought me back to make me your concubine..."

She avoided meeting his gaze as she spoke.

"Whether you were pretty or not, I’d still have taken you," Chen Yi said, only to be interrupted by a sudden chill down the back of his neck.

Yin Tingxue giggled mischievously, then paced lightly out of the room. She pointed toward an immovable stone table and chairs:

"There—at times, I didn’t want to return to my room, so I’d nap there. Hong Ling and a few other maids would stay quietly with me. In the end, all of us girls would huddle on the table, burying our heads together and falling asleep."

As she spoke, Chen Yi could almost picture it—Yin Tingxue with a cluster of girls, their heads pressed together in slumber. How endearing that must have been.

But things had changed. Nothing remained as it once was.

Yin Tingxue glanced back at the empty maiden courtyard. Spring breezes once carried girlish laughter as they gathered in blissful innocence, their chatter filling the space with life. The fleeting memory blurred her vision with unshed tears.

How long ago it all was.

Now, she had left her maiden years behind, married the man she had feared most, and adorned her hair with his hairpin. Her childhood bedroom had long since lost its hues.

"Husband... in the future... can I still return to visit my family home?"

She rubbed at the corners of her eyes, stinging with melancholy.

"Mm, we’ll come back every year," Chen Yi murmured softly.

Yin Tingxue smiled faintly, a thought suddenly occurring to her:

"That clay figurine—the one Hong Ling made for me—I’ll find it and show you. Her craftsmanship was so clumsy, the figure was all crooked and rough."

Stepping lightly, almost skipping, she bounded to the back of the courtyard, searching through the bamboo-hidden recesses.

Chen Yi waited patiently, but soon saw her figure pause. Her arm trembled slightly, her feet rooted in place as though turned to stone.

There lay a pile of shattered clay shards.

"It’s gone..."

She turned back toward him, forcing a smile, yet tears slipped unbidden from her eyes:

"The little figurine... it’s been taken..."

She instinctively began piecing the shards together in her hands, as if, by doing so, she could also piece together her fragmented childhood.

The empty maiden courtyard was swept by cold winds, as though erasing every trace of her past.