My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

Chapter 1236: Chapter 671: Within Reach (Double-Length)

That scene flashed by in an instant, so fast it felt like an illusion.

It was layered over and deeply buried beneath the vast-as-smoke, heavy-as-mountains Martial Intent of Qin Qingluo, like a single pearl in a boundless sea—so small it could almost be ignored, yet so tenacious it was hard to erase.

The brightness flying across Min Ning’s face stalled for a moment, then slowly drew back.

"Prince’s Martial Intent... after being reborn in fire, it has risen to yet another level."

She spoke slowly, her face expressionless, her tone unusually light.

When she finished, Min Ning gave a faint shake; the tough clothes on her body trembled with it, as if shaking off all her Martial Intent. The unrestrained, freely surging aura around her scattered like a flock of birds returning to the forest.

Chen Yi keenly caught the instant stagnation of Min Ning’s Martial Intent and the violent swing of her emotions, as well as that trace of indescribable complexity in her gaze when she looked at Qin Qingluo.

His eyes moved between the two women and finally settled on Qin Qingluo, only to see her still sitting upright, her serpent pupils lowered, watching the faintly rippling wine in her cup, as if that fleeting glimpse of a tiny home a moment ago had never appeared.

Inside Hanhai Building, only the cold fragrance of Autumn Dew grew ever more piercing to the bone.

Min Ning fell into wordless silence, all the earlier fiery edge of confrontation gone. After she sat down, she only sipped at the wine in her cup bit by bit.

Chen Yi tried to draw nearer to her without a word, hoping to ease the sudden touch of desolation in Min Ning’s mood, but she silently avoided him all the same.

The Princess across from them did notice a subtle change in Min Ning—like a sharp sword returned to its sheath, temporarily reining in all its edge—but still could not make sense of it, not knowing what had brought about such a shift.

Since that was the case, it was best not to prod at someone’s sore spot.

Qin Qingluo cast a glance at Chen Yi, who was quietly trying to draw close to Min Ning. She felt a flicker of displeasure, but still chose to endure it for the time being.

The wine of the latter half of the night was drunk in heaviness.

Cups rose and fell; they clinked now and then, and most of the drinking was done by Min Ning.

She was almost pouring the wine down in one go, silent as a stone lying at the bottom of a river.

The fire that had been like needle against awl in the first half of the night had vanished without a trace.

Now and then, perhaps feeling the atmosphere too deathly still, she would force herself to rouse a bit of interest and talk about sights and hearsay from the Jianghu—flashes of blades and swords, strange people and uncanny happenings—but that interest came quickly and went even faster; before she had said more than a few lines, the thread of conversation snapped, plunging into an even deeper silence, and she would raise her cup again.

In the end, the thick weight of drunkenness completely filled Hanhai Building.

Min Ning was the most drunk; her body went soft and collapsed forward onto the table, her cheek pressed against the cold tabletop, breathing deep and heavy.

Qin Qingluo, though she had also drunk a great deal and her face was flushed, still had clarity in her eyes.

As for Heroine Min, even drunk she carried a great-knight air about her: sword slung askew across her back, single blade hanging low as if it might fall at any moment, clothes wrinkled in layers like an old man’s face. In ordinary taverns along the street, one often saw Jianghu drifters heartbroken by love looking just like this.

Qin Qingluo could tell something was off with Min Ning—she wasn’t just drunk; it was more like a kind of weariness and decay seeping out from her very bones.

She frowned slightly, and in the end still said to Chen Yi, "She’s very drunk. You take her back to the guest courtyard and settle her."

Unexpectedly, perhaps because Min Ning was too far gone, she did not wave him off and force herself to stand.

Chen Yi nodded and rose to support Min Ning.

The body under his hands was soft yet heavy, carrying a scorching breath of wine. Half supporting, half holding, he helped her up and step by step led her down the stairs.

When they reached outside the building, the night wind brushed by and Min Ning seemed to sober for an instant. She forced herself to stand a little steadier and abruptly shoved Chen Yi away with some strength.

"...I don’t need you to send me." Her voice was slurred, thick with nasal sound. She struggled to pry her eyes open a crack, yet refused to look at him. "Just... just have a maid take me back."

Chen Yi still wanted to insist. "I’ll see you to the door."

"I said I don’t need it!"

Min Ning’s voice suddenly rose; though weak, it carried a stubborn resistance.

The hair at Chen Yi’s temples stirred slightly; he did not know why, but he actually found himself somewhat cowed.

She swayed, caught hold of the pillar of the corridor beside her, drew a breath, and repeated, "I don’t want you to send me."

Seeing her like this, Chen Yi understood. He guessed she must have caught that fleeting glimpse of the little home deep within Qin Qingluo’s Martial Intent, and had been hurt, had been shaken, leaving her mood low.

In the end, it was nothing more than her being jealous over him once again, and getting hurt.

He sighed inwardly; there was guilt, but he also faintly felt that this was not without remedy. He had always known how to make it up to a woman who grew jealous over him; whoever she was, over all these years, no matter how much jealousy she felt, Chen Yi always had some form of compensation.

Since she was so set on this now, he would obey her for the time being.

Helpless, he could only call over two maids to carefully support her, and watch as they half-carried Min Ning, stumbling, until they vanished at the far end of the corridor leading to the guest courtyard.

When he went back upstairs, the reek of wine was still strong.

Qin Qingluo was still sitting where she had been, her cheek resting on one hand. Perhaps the drink had gone to her head; the usually awe-inspiring glint in her eyes flowed more fluidly now, and she actually seemed more spirited than before.

"She’s gone?" she asked.

"Mm. She wouldn’t let me see her off, so the maids took her back." Chen Yi sat down and rubbed his brow.

Upon hearing this, a flash of comprehension passed through the serpent pupils of Qin Qingluo’s eyes. She thought for a moment, and the corner of her lips curved almost imperceptibly.

She too felt that Min Ning’s behavior was nothing more than jealousy and petulance.

In that case, her invisible clash today could be considered to have temporarily forced this rival to retreat.

Relief washed through her heart; she felt as though the road ahead had opened wide, that no one could hinder her from taking Chen Yi into her residence as a consort, and no one could stop Chen Yi from marrying her as his wife.

With that thought, a surge of boldness mixed with wine rose to her chest. She suddenly stood up, wanting to say something—perhaps to proclaim her victory, perhaps to tease Chen Yi with a few words.