My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Min Ning tiredly opened her eyes.

It felt as if every bone in her body had been run over, an indescribable ache and limp soreness in all her limbs, worst of all below the Dantian, as though last night a wild storm had broken a jade tree, its branches still shaking, leaves still trembling.

Her consciousness had yet to fully return, and already the shattered images of last night surged into her mind, jostling to be first.

Candlelight, ragged breathing, entangled bodies, Qin Qingluo’s domineering, enjoying gaze, Lin Wanxiao’s deer‑fright whimpers, and... that bastard Chen Yi’s scalding body heat and hands everywhere...

Memory washed over her like tides beating against the rocks on the shore, leaving behind damp, messy traces; her head swam, and she nearly sank back into sleep.

She subconsciously turned her head a little. Chen Yi was not on the pallet; who knew where he’d gone. Her gaze swept without thinking, and it naturally came to rest on the figure curled up close beside her on the inner side.

Right next to her was Miss Lin.

Lin Wanxiao seemed to be sleeping very fitfully, her thin body curled into a ball, long lashes still beaded with un‑dried wetness, tear tracks remaining on her fine pale cheeks; even in sleep, her troubled brows were lightly furrowed—a look of having been thoroughly ravaged, pitiful enough to stir anyone’s sympathy.

Her gaze dropped to Lin Wanxiao’s chest, rising and falling ever so slightly, and Min Ning suddenly remembered a certain scene from last night that made her blood surge.

Candle flames wavering, the room sunk in sheer absurdity, and Chen Yi that scoundrel actually, while... while shamelessly panting by her ear, said something about not measuring up to the Prince’s mighty build, not even as good as the little miss, then pushed her onto Miss Lin...

Comparing her and the little miss in terms of hills and valleys of the bosom!

Waking with a start at daybreak, Min Ning was flooded with inexpressible shame and anger. It was bad enough that she’d been forcibly dragged into this ridiculous mess last night; Chen Yi even had the gall to tease her like that, making her so furious her whole body trembled.

Just thinking of it made her mad!

And on top of that she hadn’t even outdone the little miss.

That only made her madder.

Her valiant phoenix eyes knit tight, Min Ning’s fingers slightly clenched the brocade mattress beneath her. If her whole body weren’t so weak and sore, she would almost have jumped up there and then to demand an explanation from Chen Yi.

The morning blaze of temper rose for no reason, and died for no reason. Before long, Min Ning let out a breath, smiled helplessly, not even sure what exactly she was angry about. Since when had she become this petty?

Enduring the soreness, she slowly sat up. For the three women, that night had been anything but easy. Chen Yi, a man with desire etched into his bones, had not only failed to tire from the prolonged battle, he’d grown more vigorous the longer it went. Min Ning had only realized last night just how endlessly greedy he could be.

To think that before, she’d even entertained thoughts of... living one lifetime, one couple with him.

Min Ning couldn’t help a bitter smile, a wordless sting in her heart, but a female knight is decisive in the end. She took a deep breath of one energy and smoothed it over.

"Zhu Yu..." she tried calling softly.

"...What is it?" Came a reply at once.

"When are we leaving?"

"You decide."

"Then once we get the marriage contract we’ll go. No point staying longer," Min Ning paused, then went on, "I’ll take the chance to see his child again."

Min Ning didn’t know if it was her imagination, but after those words fell, Zhu Yu also seemed to pause for a beat.

"Mm."

Min Ning lifted a finger, scraping her cheek to wipe off a bit of grime. Then something occurred to her, and only then did a delayed fluster rise; she wanted to speak but held back.

"What is it now?" Zhu Yu had clearly noticed.

"...It’s nothing, just..." Min Ning drew a deep breath of one energy, then asked, "You weren’t... watching last night, were you..."

"Of course not," Zhu Yu said. "You were being absurd; as an idle bystander I naturally withdrew."

Min Ning exhaled, much of the shameful agitation in her chest ebbing away. She stretched lazily as if no one else were there, then rose to get dressed, intending to go look for Chen Yi.

But speak of Cao Cao and Cao Cao appears; at just that moment he pushed the door open and came in, carrying some food.

Chen Yi smiled at her, slowly set the food down, and at the same time fished a sheet of paper from his breast. Min Ning didn’t need to look to know it was the marriage contract.

Anyway, she wasn’t in a rush.

She might as well have breakfast first; why waste it when it was there.

The languid, decadent air in the room seemed to be somewhat dispelled by the steam rising off the food.

Min Ning, bearing the discomfort all over her body, walked to the table and sat down.

Chen Yi had already laid out the bowls and chopsticks. Seeing her come over, he silently picked up the clay jug beside him and poured her a cup of hot tea. The tea was a deep amber, thin white steam curling up, a rich fragrance spreading through the air.

There was no conversation between the two.

One didn’t know where to begin, perhaps still carrying the lingering shame of last night and this morning’s inexplicable smothered mood; the other knew full well that the more he said now, the more wrong he’d be, better to watch quietly and see how things played out.

Yet in every small movement there was a hard‑to‑describe tacit understanding. Chen Yi passed the chopsticks over, and Min Ning reached out to take them; Min Ning’s gaze skimmed over some side dish, and Chen Yi would push that plate a little closer to her side. It felt like a habit formed over countless days, needing no words, each action smooth and natural.

A small bowl of "cross‑the‑bridge" rice noodles: broth boiling hot, snow‑white noodles lying at the bottom. In the small plates beside were fish slices, chicken slices, and ham shaved thin as cicada wings, along with bright green pea shoots and tender yellow bean sprouts, all waiting for Min Ning to drop into the soup to cook; there was also a plate of grilled rice cakes, roasted to a charred fragrance and smeared with a bit of spicy sauce. Another small bowl held runny pea‑flour paste, golden and thick, topped with crunchy fried buckwheat strips, salty and fragrant.

Min Ning ate in silence, but not slowly. She truly was hungry; last night’s excess had taken a toll, such wild absurdity, and now the warm food landing in her stomach drove away some of the fatigue and chill. She watched the meat slices blanch and curl in the broth, then picked up a bite with her chopsticks, blew on it, and put it into her mouth. The soup was fresh and flavorful, the noodles smooth and springy.

Chen Yi sat across from her, not touching his chopsticks, simply watching her eat quietly, now and then lifting his own cup of tea for a sip.

Min Ning ate with full concentration. Only after she had drunk more than half the noodle soup and finished off two rice cakes did she feel her stomach well‑filled. She set down her chopsticks, feeling her mouth dry, and quite naturally reached for her teacup—only to find it already empty.