My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Chapter 1171: Chapter 642: The Real Father (Quadruple Bonus Chapter 4-in-1)_2

Chen Yi stopped in his tracks, his brows faintly furrowing. "What are you doing?"

Donggong Ruoshu tipped her face up, leaning in so close she almost bumped into Chen Yi’s arms. Those clear eyes of hers carefully scrutinized his, as if trying to fish something different out from inside them.

Chen Yi felt a little creeped out by her staring.

"I’m confirming," she said with great seriousness, "confirming whether there’s even the tiniest bit of... mm, the tiniest bit of affection in your eyes. The pool reacted so strongly just now—maybe the wish is taking effect with a delay?"

Looking at her face so close at hand, Chen Yi didn’t even blink. "There isn’t."

The faint flicker of hopeful luck that had just surfaced on Donggong Ruoshu’s face completely collapsed. Her shoulders drooped as well, and she muttered under her breath, "...Oh."

She drifted a little farther away, but still followed at Chen Yi’s side. Wind and snow passed through her insubstantial body. They walked on in silence for a few steps before Chen Yi drew in a deep breath and said helplessly, "Miss Donggong, why are you so persistent?"

"Huh?" Donggong Ruoshu didn’t react for a moment.

"About seducing me," Chen Yi added.

Donggong Ruoshu tilted her head, as if this question didn’t require any thought at all. "Because the Empress Dowager told me to do it." freēwebnovel.com

Chen Yi didn’t stop walking. He turned his head slightly to glance at her. "She tells you to do it, and you just do it?"

"Of course!" Donggong Ruoshu nodded as a matter of course. Her soul spun lightly in midair. "Empress An treats me extremely well. She canceled a huge debt I owed, feeds and clothes me, had people teach me Swordsmanship, and ran herself ragged arranging my marriage. Even though it didn’t work out in the end"—she immediately puffed out her chest—"still, whatever Her Highness entrusts me with, I ought to do properly. How does that saying go... ’The Lord treats me as a statesman; I shall repay the Lord as a statesman.’"

Chen Yi: "..."

This foolish girl, she wouldn’t even know if she’d been sold off.

But then, fools have foolish fortune; her luck had always been extraordinarily good... At this thought, Chen Yi’s brows drew together slightly. Perhaps that secret Miss Donggong gave the pool just now was related to this powerful luck of hers?

Seeing him silent, Donggong Ruoshu suddenly remembered something, drifted to his side, and added, "Speaking of which, Chen Yi, Her Highness she... seems to really miss you."

"Miss me?"

Chen Yi’s steps faltered. He suddenly turned his head. After a moment’s consideration, he laughed and said:

"She’s just a madwoman."

That woman had her eyes blinded by hatred, and then struggled endlessly because of a love that came out of nowhere. Occupying such a lofty position, she baselessly pinned many emotions on him, and for that sake forced things on him more than once...

Only, Chen Yi had never been willing to be someone’s blade for a lifetime, and he hated being manipulated most of all.

The image of Empress An’s features flitted across his mind, already somewhat blurred. They hadn’t seen each other for a long time. He had never truly let go of what happened back then. One day sooner or later, he would kill his way back into Jingren Palace; it would be best if he had the Prince of Annan, Qin Qingluo, to aid him, so he could be a properly "right and proper" traitor.

Chen Yi suddenly felt a powerful desire.

"Don’t bring her up."

Donggong Ruoshu blurted out, "But..."

"No buts." Chen Yi cut her off coldly.

He turned away from Donggong Ruoshu and no longer looked at her. He went down the steps; wind and snow howled, lashing his face. The front of his robe was slightly open at the chest, and something inside flashed with a glimmer of light, then vanished in an instant.

.........

By the time he hurried back to the Prince Mansion travel‑worn and dust‑covered, dusk was already drawing near.

Before the Prince Mansion’s main gate, carriages and horses clamored. Servants and guards were moving about in orderly fashion; clearly, the master had only just returned. As soon as Chen Yi stepped onto the steps, he saw the Prince of Annan, surrounded by a cluster of trusted aides, turning out from the covered corridor on the other side.

The Prince of Annan was still dressed in a fitted dark‑black outfit with a black cloak over it. Between her brows lingered the faint weariness of a long journey, yet it did nothing to diminish that heavy, composed authority.

Their gazes briefly met in midair.

Qin Qingluo’s eyes were as sharp as ever, as if piercing through the chill that still hadn’t left Chen Yi’s body. She gave the barest, almost imperceptible nod and said nothing.

Chen Yi also cupped his hands in salute, then moved aside to make way.

A sort of strictly businesslike distance hung between them.

As the Prince of Annan’s figure receded, Chen Yi paused for a moment, straightened his robe, and after a bit of thought headed toward the Upper Study Room.

He hadn’t waited long in the outer hall of the Upper Study Room when a maid came to lead him in.

Inside, the light was dim. Only the solitary lamp on the desk shed a steady glow; the air still carried the scent of ink.

When Chen Yi stepped into the study, Qin Qingluo was already seated behind the desk. Her cloak had been removed and hung to the side. She was gazing intently at the tabletop. Before her were not memorials, but several thread‑bound books of varying thickness and a few rolls of yellowed dossiers that looked quite old.

In one corner of the desk there were even a few broken bone or stone fragments carved with strange symbols.

"Your subordinate pays respects to the Prince." Chen Yi cupped his hands.

Qin Qingluo lifted her eyes and motioned for him to dispense with formalities. "You’re back? How did your trip go?"

"I did not disgrace the mission." Chen Yi was succinct. He recounted the circumstances of the snow‑mountain journey—being ambushed by several heretics, and finally finding the Heart’s Desire Pool—laying out the entire process clearly.

He omitted the ridiculous details of Donggong Ruoshu’s wish and the secret exchange, only emphasizing the eerie properties of the pool water and the fact that he had learned where the legacy was hidden.

Qin Qingluo listened quietly, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the dossier on the desk.

"The Heart’s Desire Pool... ॐजय्ऐँह्रीं..." Qin Qingluo softly repeated that ancient syllable Chen Yi had mentioned. "That is Sanskrit."

Her gaze swept over the mountain of ancient texts and dossiers before her. Her tone held a trace of fatigue, yet was unusually focused.

"Ever since you last spoke of what Wu Meng said—’light and dark without boundary, humans can replace gods’—and that Holy Fire Order Fragment, I’ve felt this matter is anything but simple.

These past few days, I have already ordered people to retrieve from the Prince Mansion’s secret vaults and the Zige Bureau’s case archive all records concerning internal strife within the Ming’an Divine Sect, especially those regarding the so‑called ’heretics.’"