My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 214 - 193: Is She Going to Die?

Chapter 214: Chapter 193: Is She Going to Die?

Yin Weiyin suddenly turned her head, shocked to realize that Dong Gong Ruoshu’s figure had vanished without a trace.

Her brows furrowed tightly. This place had numerous branching paths and winding turns. If she doubled back to search, she feared not only failing to find her companion but also losing herself in the labyrinth.

After some contemplation, she pinched a hand seal, stepped into the stance of martial divination, and calculated a reading.

After completing the calculation, she let out a breath of relief.

Fortunately, Dong Gong Ruoshu had not encountered any danger.

For now, she needed to find a way out herself.

With that thought in mind, Yin Weiyin pressed forward.

There were no lanterns or torches inside the Buddha Tower. However, the floor, akin to glazed tiles, emitted faint halos of light, neither too dim nor excessively bright, alternating between shadow and glow.

Turning several corners, she came across various murals. The faces of Bodhisattvas and Buddhas appeared ghostly sinister at one glance, yet profoundly dignified at another. These contrasting feelings blended together, echoing the Buddhist truth of impermanence in all things.

Following the path, Yin Weiyin walked on, but something felt increasingly amiss.

She had a constant, unsettling sensation: something was lurking in the shadows, following her.

If she deviated even slightly from the designated direction, that thing seemed to inch closer, sending a chilling frost down her neck.

Holding the Peach Wood Sword tightly, Yin Weiyin’s expression grew grave. The glazed floor beneath her feet felt as cold as ice.

Meanwhile, the Bodhisattvas and Buddhas in the murals seemed to come to life. At every corner, pairs of eyes seemed to watch her. Although the Medicine Buddha Tower was filled with the divine, it proved darker and eerier than she had imagined.

The alien and desolate surroundings unsettled her spirit. She constantly dreaded what lay behind her yet dared not act rashly. It felt as though she was being herded toward some unknown destination.

A gust of sinister wind blew as she stepped into a more open space. The scene before her was vast and dim. She glanced around and saw shelves overflowing with books—this was clearly the Script Repository within the Buddha Tower.

Placing Buddhist scriptures, cultivation techniques, and the like as offerings within the Buddha Tower—this was the Script Repository.

The Princess of Jing could not help but feel a rush of excitement. She had been searching for those Joyful Sect cultivation techniques for so long, and now, she had found them. With just a spark of fire, these techniques would be reduced to ashes.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps came from behind her.

Yin Weiyin’s gaze grew sharp. She turned with her sword raised and saw a woman in black silently appear behind her.

The female Taoist’s pupils contracted as she hastily retreated. She reached into her palm, pulling out three paper figures, and flung them to the ground.

The paper figures immediately transformed into blade-wielding maidservants, positioning themselves to guard Yin Weiyin in three directions.

The woman in black remained unmoved, standing as still as a sculpture.

But Yin Weiyin heard another series of approaching footsteps.

Turning her head, she saw two martial artists with steady movements and one woman clad in red.

Yin Weiyin’s breath caught in her throat.

Here, in the Medicine Buddha Tower, they had encircled her. Their killing intent was unmistakable.

"Who are you?"

Her heart sank as she spoke coldly,

"Do you not know that I am Yin Weiyin, the Princess of Jing and the Taichua Goddess?"

"Hah, quite the impressive title."

The red-clad woman chuckled lightly.

"But unfortunately, my background is just as lofty as yours."

The three sword-wielding maidservants stood in front to protect her. In her palm, Yin Weiyin was already clutching a talisman, ready to strike.

Still, to the three martial artists, even Chou Gang—the weakest among them—did not take her seriously.

The reason was simple: in single combat, a Taoist was far inferior to a martial artist. Besides, Yin Weiyin was only in her twenties; at most, her cultivation would be at the Core Formation Realm.

The female Taoist understood this well. Seeing the trio closing in, she chose to strike first.

The three maidservants charged at Chou Gang, who was the most vulnerable target. Even their paper-crafted blades gleamed coldly.

Simultaneously, Yin Weiyin channeled her Primordial Qi into the talisman.

Swish.

Yin Weiyin’s eyes widened in horror.

Chou Gang swept the Horse-slaying Saber horizontally. The heavy blade slashed through, bending the three paper figures as though they had been forcefully crushed. Moments later, they were torn apart.

The menacing saber aura shredded the paper figures into near-unrecognizable fragments.

Clenching her teeth, Yin Weiyin hastily retrieved three more paper figures from her robes.

But as if anticipating this, Chou Gang stepped forward decisively, his saber roaring like the wind.

Yin Weiyin’s pupils contracted sharply, her face pale as she hurriedly retreated.

However, the saber aura, although striking nothing but empty air,

seemed to sever some imperceptible thread of destiny.

The female Taoist coughed up blood instantly. Gravely injured, she collapsed to her knees.

The red-clad woman laughed, a sinister tone to her voice. This saber technique was unpredictable even to battle-hardened martial artists.

It was the secret art of the Ming’an Divine Sect, enchanting the blade with a spell so that it could cleave not only flesh but also one’s very fate.

If the wound was not repaired promptly, it would mean death—her body and spirit extinguished, with no hope of survival.

With a chilling smile, the red-clad woman spoke:

"I am the Princess of Annan, and my surname is Zhu.

Princess of Jing, I’m afraid my Prince requires your head for a little favor."

With that, the woman surnamed Zhu turned and walked away.

Yin Weiyin struggled to rise but could only watch as that woman’s figure disappeared from view.

She gasped for breath, only to find she could not draw it in.

The three assassins glanced at her coldly, then turned their attention elsewhere.

They did not hasten to take her life just yet.

Because when Chen Yi arrived to find her already dead, he might choose to flee.

But if she still lived, he would be compelled to try to save her.

And when the time came, the three of them working together would be enough to kill him here.

Collapsed on the ground, Yin Weiyin’s gaze grew dim. She fixated on the paintings within the Script Repository. In one, the gaunt Siddhartha Gautama sat beneath the Bodhi Tree, emaciated and vacant like a puppet. At that time, he was not yet Shakyamuni Buddha, only serene and tranquil. Far in the distance, two shepherd girls approached. Not long after this moment, he would become Shakyamuni Buddha.

Then, Shakyamuni Buddha realized that all was emptiness.

Blood clogged Yin Weiyin’s throat as she felt herself slipping closer to death. Oddly, she found no fear in the face of it.

Was she... about to die?

Not yet immortal, yet already meeting death...

A strange calm enveloped her as she seemed to fall into a vast and dark place. It was so tranquil there, devoid of any noise.

So, this is where one goes before death, she thought.

No wonder... death always brings serenity.

In that moment, a peculiar clarity came over her—a kind of inscrutable, indescribable realization.

When one is near death, clarity often emerges. Yet no matter how much one understands in life, in the end, death still comes.

It was because she had not achieved immortality that she would die...

Suddenly, Yin Weiyin felt an overwhelming reluctance. She did not want to die, not like this. Not when there was nothing left—no ignorance, no self.

As fear kept silent, regret swelled instead. Regret, true and piercing, thrummed through her heart.

Two decades spent in the pursuit of immortality, all reduced to nothing in an instant.

"I’m going to die..."

Amid the chaos in her mind, she reached out with her hand.

Her grasp found only emptiness, as expected—what else could it reach?

She was dying. And in this dying moment, she understood: everything was void.

But at the next instant, a warm, firm hand reached out to hers.

That hand, steady and powerful, pulled her back to the surface. In the darkness, she could not see his face. Yet when their hands met, her heart quivered involuntarily.

A familiar voice broke through the void,

"You won’t die."

He gathered her into his arms.

Yin Weiyin was stunned.

It was him. He would not allow her to die, just as he refused to let her ascend to immortality once before.

Chen Yi cradled the disordered and fragile Taoist in his arms. His face was obscured in shadows, concealed from sight.

The three assassins stood frozen with fiercely watchful eyes.

They had been waiting for him.

This ambush was staged with only one goal—to kill him.

One Fifth Rank and two Fourth Rank combatants—what a grand setup. Was it enough to kill a Thousand Households Officer from the West Factory?

"We’ve waited a long time. Any last words?"

Chou Gang rasped, yet his Horse-slaying Saber trembled involuntarily in his hands.

He could not tell if the trembling stemmed from excitement or something deeper and unspoken.

Chen Yi, after uttering "You won’t die," said nothing further.

He simply handed the wounded Princess of Jing gently to Yin Tingxue’s care.

"He seems... different,"

Zhang Xuqu suddenly remarked.

He rarely wasted words, but the Chen Yi before him gave the unsettling impression of being utterly transformed.

Dust rose as the black-robed Thousand Households Officer slowly rolled up his sleeves, his back facing the murderous trio.

No matter what they might say,

after those words, he remained silent. The female Taoist, watching the man’s figure pass by her, saw him unsheath his blade.

It was a blade devoid of distractions...

A blade made to kill!