My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Back then I really was stepping on two boats, unwilling to push this one away, unable to cut that one off; I was indeed in the wrong, so I was caught in a dilemma and showed weakness in all directions. But now that the two of them have torn all pretense and started fighting, he finally had a proper, righteous excuse to suppress them with force.

And having come to this point, was he still supposed to keep playing the weak one?

Chen Yi made up his mind on the spot, all hesitation vanishing from his eyes, replaced instead by a long-absent murderous edge.

He had previously stopped the two from fighting because his meridians were shattered and he lacked the strength to restrain even one of them, let alone both. Now, however, things were completely different.

Power flicked from his fingertips; Qin Qingluo only felt a numb tingle in the pulse of her wrist, and the True Qi she had just gathered collapsed like a receding tide. Her entire arm instantly went limp and weak. Min Ning likewise felt a soft yet irresistible force travel along her finger, forcing her to withdraw and defend.

The two of them stepped back half a pace at the same time, their faces a mix of shock and fury, but beneath that was a deeper disbelief—since when had he gained such Cultivation?!

Chen Yi, however, did not look at their stunned, suspicious faces. His gaze swept over the wedding cups in his hands, still steady, the wine clear as crystal, reflecting the flickering candlelight, and also reflecting the trace of fatigue in his eyes and... a certain cold hardness of resolve.

"An explanation?" He suddenly let out a short, derisive laugh, raised his eyes, and let his gaze slowly move between Qin Qingluo’s taut features and Min Ning’s stubborn brows. "Didn’t you both say you wanted one? Fine, I’ll give you one."

With a turn of his wrist, he actually held one of the cups out toward Min Ning.

Min Ning froze, and took it on reflex. The cold touch of the jade cup made her fingers flinch slightly.

Qin Qingluo’s snake-like pupils narrowed sharply, the chill around her surging to a peak. She was just about to speak when she saw Chen Yi steadily extend the other cup to her.

"This one is yours." He looked at Qin Qingluo, his tone allowing no refusal.

The two women each held a cup, staring at each other. For a moment they had no idea what he intended, and the blade-drawn-bow-strung tension in the bridal chamber turned strangely distorted.

Chen Yi no longer looked at them. He turned and walked to the wedding bed covered with a bright red brocade quilt of mandarin ducks, then sat down with a swagger.

He spread his arms along the edge of the bed and calmly watched the two of them standing rigid where they were. In those eyes that always hid either scheming or tenderness, there was now only a sort of almost savage honesty.

"Choose?" The corner of his mouth hooked into an unreadable arc, his tone carrying a reckless, to-hell-with-it edge. "I’m done putting on a show. I can’t choose, and I don’t want to choose."

He paused, his voice echoing clearly in the silent room:

"Qin Qingluo, you and I were married in broad daylight, worshipped Heaven and Earth, drank the wedding wine. For this lifetime, that’s what we are."

"Min Ning, you’re someone I set my heart on long ago. We met in our lowliest days, entrusted each other with life and death. Of course I can’t cut off this bond either."

His gaze grew sharply aggressive as it swept over the two peerlessly beautiful women, both with equally unyielding tempers.

"So tonight, I’m done acting.

This wedding wine—you two, both of you, are going to drink it."

This bridal chamber night..."

Chen Yi leaned his body slightly forward, the candlelight casting deep shadows across his face. He spoke, enunciating each word:

"I want it all. One quilt, all of us under it—tonight, here."

The words fell like a thunderclap.

Qin Qingluo’s eyes flew wide open. Her fingers, clenched around the cup, turned bone-white from the force. Her tall, graceful body trembled slightly, the shock in her eyes mixing with a sky-scraping fury at being violated—and a trace of... something that even she couldn’t understand, a faint, startled flutter.

Min Ning felt as if struck by lightning. Her cheeks flushed crimson in an instant, then quickly drained to white. She could not believe her own ears, a rush of hot blood surging straight to her head.

The room was deathly silent, broken only by the faint crackle of the burning red candles and the sudden, chaotic quickening of the two women’s breathing. They were both shaken and unsure, never having imagined that the Chen Yi who had been showing weakness all this time would suddenly and brutally shatter the stalemate.

Chen Yi had bowed his head for too long, retreating step by step before the relentless pressure of these two strong-willed women, to the point that they had both forgotten how he used to treat them.

And so, almost at the same time, a thin chill rose from the base of both their spines.

Chen Yi watched the ever-changing expressions on their faces, from utter shock and shameful anger, to struggle and hesitation... He knew his words were utterly shameless and forceful, but he was already tired of the endless tug-of-war.

Since a moment’s gentleness could not spare both sides, then he might as well bare his fangs and still twist the melon by force, not letting them go on fighting over him, but instead binding the women he cared about firmly to his side.

He slowly rose to his feet and walked toward the two rigid figures, his steps steady.

"The wine," he said in a low voice, slowly, "drink it with me."