My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 210 - 189: The Way Lies in Excrement and Urine

Chapter 210: Chapter 189: The Way Lies in Excrement and Urine

Yin Weiyin wiped away the water droplets on her lips.

After three breaths, her legs felt unsteady, yet she still couldn’t let go of that peculiar sensation.

In that instant, her heart felt ethereal, like she was wandering in a celestial paradise, while her body seemed displaced, drifting elsewhere entirely.

In the dim sixth level, it was as though she stood amidst the heavens of natural transformation, where celestial beings gazed upon each other with joy—free, unrestrained, intangible, invisible, like the wind. A gust of unbridled breeze.

One breeze passed, and another arrived.

The body may find no rest, yet the heart remains at peace.

Is this not the essence of transcendence?

Freedom like the wind, even when the physical form is confined, the spirit transcends beyond...

As Yin Weiyin gradually sobered, recollecting that sensation, Chen Yi turned toward her.

That moment dragged the female crown back to reality; even if she had ascended to bliss a hundred or thousand times, he was still her ignorance.

Yin Weiyin awoke as if from a dream.

The original transcendence dissipated into smoke and clouds; Yin Weiyin wished to seek it again but found no path to follow.

She tried harder to recall, her face pale, as if struck by lightning.

How could she... achieve enlightenment amidst intercourse?

Suddenly, Yin Weiyin was filled with dread, her head lightly shaking. Perceiving transcendence from such an act—if she were to ascend to immortality one day, wouldn’t she be called Mistress Yuanjun, Mistress Fairy?

What kind of immortal would that be?

The mere thought made the female crown tremble; she fought to cast aside such notions, lowering her face.

Chen Yi caught the changes in her expression and, puzzled, asked:

"What’s wrong?"

As he spoke, he extended his hand toward her.

"Don’t touch me..."

Yin Weiyin quivered, retreating two steps.

She looked at Chen Yi with lingering fear, her lips gently pressed together, her thoughts tangled and overlapping like spider silk entwined around her. Yin Weiyin calmed her breath, turned her face away, and avoided looking at Chen Yi again.

After these three breaths, their relationship grew even more enigmatic. Yin Weiyin had no time to untangle it, her gaze faltering as she broke away.

Chen Yi sighed inwardly at how her mood shifted faster than flipping a book. He said nothing more and turned to leave.

Behind him came the sound of her soft footsteps trailing after him. Her pace mirrored his, as if unwilling to stray too far yet reluctant to draw too near.

Rounding a corner, Yin Weiyin caught sight of an old cobweb, heavy with dust, woven with countless strands yet easily swept away by the wind. She couldn’t help but ponder.

What did they amount to, truly?

But amidst her thoughts, she saw him walking further ahead, so she set it aside and followed at a slow pace.

In the time ahead, she didn’t know how many times she would set things aside...

Chen Yi turned back to glance at her.

Once again, Yin Weiyin avoided his gaze.

Chen Yi chuckled softly.

Not long ago, she had begged him to look at her, yet now, lucid again, her mindset had changed. It felt as though she’d uttered hollow words.

"I would rather be unsettled,"—even this seemed to echo hollowly. She’d spoken many empty words, yet remained oblivious. Yin Weiyin was always like that; she held too many stubborn convictions, and so often harbored grievances, unable to dissect them, mistakenly believing that she understood them completely.

But at this moment, she still wouldn’t grasp it.

Her face bore the faint chill of spring’s ebbing tide, under the dim light of the pavilion, flickering like fireflies—elusive, mysterious.

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

Within the Medicine Buddha Tower.

"Someone asked Zhuangzi: Where is the Dao?"

A youth of sixteen or seventeen, dressed simply in the garb of a scholar, like an attendant student, walked amidst the 108 Arhat statues. Behind him followed two martial artists.

Zhang Xuqu, somewhat insouciant, spoke nonchalantly:

"Enough already, I didn’t come here to listen to preaching. I’m here to take you away.

You know, why bother fixating on the Joyful Sect’s inheritance? Their cultivation techniques aren’t worth much."

Zhang Xuqu’s words held some truth; in the Jianghu, everyone knew of the Joyful Sect’s reputation. Diplomatically speaking, they hosted heroes from across the realm; crudely speaking, they traded in carnal dealings.

Interrupted, Zhao Bai showed no anger, responding instead:

"The reason I’m temporarily staying here—listen, and you’ll understand. I guarantee, after hearing it, you’ll smile knowingly."

Zhang Xuqu became somewhat intrigued.

"A hearty laugh is worth its weight in gold."

Zhang Xuqu stroked his stubble and said:

"Alright, let’s hear it then."

The 108 Arhats possessed diverse postures, adorned in gold leaf, radiant and eye-catching. Zhao Bai spoke as he walked:

"Zhuangzi said: The Dao is everywhere."

Someone asked again, "If it’s everywhere, where exactly is it?"

Zhang Xuqu wasn’t keen on hearing overly philosophical musings. He scratched his ears, while Chou Gang beside him also grew slightly restless.

Yet in the next instant, they both perked up slightly.

"Zhuangzi said: The Dao is in the ants."

Raising his voice slightly, Zhao Bai continued:

"The person then asked, ’Where else is the Dao?’ Zhuangzi replied, ’In the grasses.’ The person grew puzzled, wondering why the locations kept degrading. Zhuangzi did not answer but said instead: ’The Dao is in the tiles and bricks...’"

Zhao Bai paused deliberately.

Turning back, he captured the curious and perplexed expressions of the two martial artists in his gaze.

"The person continued to ask Zhuangzi why the locations kept deteriorating. He was puzzled—was it due to the collapse of rituals and music, a nation losing its kingship? Zhuangzi still didn’t answer his question."

Zhang Xuqu pressed on impatiently:

"What did Zhuangzi say?"

"Zhuangzi merely said..."

Zhao Bai said calmly:

"The Dao is in excrement and urine."

Zhang Xuqu froze, then burst into laughter, while Chou Gang, with his Horse-slaying Saber strapped to his back, cracked a slight smile. However, perhaps to maintain his image, he held it back.

Zhao Bai turned forward, reaching the end of the path lined with 108 Arhats. Before him stood a grand Buddha hall, with golden statues of the Laughing Buddha and a consort, in provocative postures. Zhao Bai remained entirely unperturbed.

"Before my teacher died, he told me to pass down the techniques of the Joyful Sect.

He wanted the world to understand—even the Joyful Sect has swordsmanship."

Zhao Bai turned back to look at them both, smiling faintly:

"No one holds the Joyful Sect in high regard. But the Dao is here—it’s between the body and the profane; the Dao is in excrement and urine."

The Buddha hall fell into a long silence.

Chou Gang felt slightly awed by the youth before him, while Zhang Xuqu couldn’t help but glance with curiosity.

Clap, clap, clap.

Crisp applause echoed as a commanding woman emerged, trailed by Princess Aunt Zhu and the guard Ye Ming.

"What an exquisite discourse on the Dao," Qin Qingluo said, her gaze appreciating as she smiled leisurely.

Zhao Bai bowed respectfully.

Shortly before this, he had opened the Buddha Tower’s hidden door to invite these individuals inside.

When Chou Gang saw the towering woman, though unaware of her identity as a Prince, he could sense she hailed from An Nan Royal Mansion, his brows furrowing slightly.

After all, he was part of the Zige Bureau.

Qin Qingluo paid him no mind, sweeping her eyes over him as she stated slowly:

"Chou Gang, Zige Bureau Minister, former confidant of White Willow Sect’s You Xu, who was killed by Chen Yi. Thus, you partnered with Zhang Xuqu to avenge your friend."

Chou Gang froze in astonishment; he hadn’t expected this woman to reveal his motives so clearly.

Qin Qingluo smiled faintly, as though unveiling hidden treasures:

"Once, with a Horse-slaying Saber, you entered Western Jin. Upon your return, you declared, ’Learn literary and martial arts, then sell them to royalty,’ making a name for yourself in the annals of history. Yet all these years later, you’re still merely the Zige Bureau Minister. Frustrated with your lack of accomplishments, you fell into frequent bouts of drunkenness, forming a close bond with You Xu."

The eight-foot-tall martial artist now felt beads of cold sweat forming down his spine.

"You said ’sell to royalty’..."

The taller eight-and-a-half-foot commanding figure asked plainly:

"My surname is Qin, name Qingluo; I hold the whip in Great Yu’s Southern lands. Am I not royalty?"

Chou Gang stood motionless, stunned.

Watching the martial artist transfixed in place, the red-clad woman by her side smirked slightly.

Looking upon Qin Qingluo’s imposing presence, this Princess couldn’t help but feel a flicker of adoration.

Qingluo—her name carried the meaning of green waves upon Luoyang.

Spring breezes know not the weight of rise and fall; the grass grows full over ancient ruins year after year.

What fortune to have such a niece, such a husband?

How many men would be overshadowed by her? When she eventually seizes the realm, raised so high herself, what man would she find worthy? What should she do then?

The red-clad woman grew impatient. She longed to reclaim the Purity Saintess now, to see the Four Great Saintesses unite at the Southern Border Holy Land, awaiting the Bright Venerable to emerge and restore this World of Ignorance.

"So..."

The red-clad woman murmured softly,

"That Chen Yi must die, and die quickly."