My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 629 - 416: She Has Already Been Fasting

A thin layer of mist lingered in the bathroom. The servant carrying the bucket of clothes had already left, and Chen Yi submerged himself into the steaming hot water.

His pores opened wide, soaking in the warmth of the water's embrace. The tension in Chen Yi's bones instantly eased, a wave of relief rushing over his entire body. He exhaled a breath of white mist that floated far, far away.

"Those Western Jin spies..."

Chen Yi muttered to himself. He had killed those two spies from Western Jin, intending to perform Soul Search on them. However, before he could, the masters gathered at Yuanfeng Building had already begun their assault.

It seemed those spies had long planned their escape route. Amidst the chaos, those two corpses had likely disappeared without a trace.

"Forget it. It's not really my concern anyway." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Chen Yi scooped water with his hand to splash his face.

He had come to Shantong City for Lu Ying's destiny, yet unintentionally found himself entangled in the current chaos—it was purely accidental. Since the involvement wasn't deep, he could withdraw at any time.

These overlapping grudges and feuds in the Jianghu weren't what he wanted to meddle in. If not for Dong Gong Ruoshu, he wouldn't have intervened today either.

After this incident, Wei Wuque would surely realize that using Dong Gong Ruoshu as bait to lure him wasn't going to work.

Thinking of this, Chen Yi cleared his mind, intent on resting well and replenishing his energy.

Soon, he would have to draw his sword again.

The skirmish at Yuanfeng Building had taken quite a toll. Even for someone long accustomed to dancing on the blade's edge, it was an immense drain—no less consuming than a fight with Little Yin, Dong Guifei, or even a clash involving Qin Qingluo and Zhu E. If all were to come together, he might not hold out.

The scalding water brushed his face, and Chen Yi stretched his arms, letting out a long sigh: "Ah..."

Moments like this, where he could unwind his entire body, were uniquely comforting.

Resting his head against the bathtub's edge, he narrowed his eyes, pondering—how long had it been since he last returned home to rest after a fight?

Nearly half a year.

Half a year already.

"Time flies," Chen Yi murmured.

In the Capital City, he often felt time dragging. Everything moved slowly—when would the little fox finally like him, why did his master get jealous yet again, when would Great Yin finally learn restraint, and when would Min Ning hand her over to him? Occasionally, he would think about Lin Wanxiao, the An Empress, Dong Gong Ruoshu, and others...

Yet now, outside the Capital, Chen Yi realized everything moved faster. Everything took time, yet time was the one thing in shortest supply.

Now staying in this residence, which he wasn't sure he could even call "home," Chen Yi rediscovered that familiar feeling.

Comfort, tranquility—as if he could stay here for a lifetime.

Chen Yi gazed at the hazy mist and murmured, "If only time could slow down."

But after a moment, he shook his head to himself. Wandering the Jianghu wasn't like the leisurely days in the Capital. He had to head west to seek Bright Venerable's legacy and explore the Tushan Underground Palace. After that, he needed to go to the Southern Border to meet Qin Qingluo and Zhu E.

Thinking of the Southern Border, Chen Yi couldn't help but mumble, "Qingluo... Is my daughter about to be born? What should her name be?"

If he calculated the time, it really wasn't far off.

At most, one or two months.

...

"He hasn't sent another letter?"

The candlelight flickered. The tall woman's face tilted downward, her bone structure still strikingly heroic, yet her snake-like pupils carried an incomprehensible undertone. Her features lay enshrouded in an interplay of light and shadow.

Beside her, Zhu E threaded a needle while working on a piece of cloth. Nearby, a wooden basket contained small fabric pieces—perhaps baby-sized bellybands or other tiny garments. A newborn's first outfit had to be made by the mother, even if she wasn't skilled in needlework—a single stitch from her hand was said to bring good luck.

"He hasn't sent another letter?" As if Zhu E hadn't heard, the tall woman repeated her question.

Zhu E turned her gaze to observe the woman's expression, but the latter turned her face away, fully shrouding her features in shadow, even dimming her snake-like pupils. Measuring her words carefully, Princess Zhu E replied, "He committed the grave offense of treason. Who knows where he's hiding now? Even if he wanted to send letters, he wouldn't be able to."

The tall woman was silent for a moment before sneering coldly: "He's probably dead."

After a pause, Zhu E murmured indifferently, "Then why should Prince trouble herself over a dead man?"

"I'm not troubled!"

As those words fell, Zhu E heard the faint cracking sound of joints. She had clenched her fists tightly.

Zhu E sighed deeply, setting aside her needlework. She picked up the oil lamp, preparing to approach.

"Don't bring the lamp closer."

A voice emerged from behind the screen, sharp and laced with an unexpected edge of fear.

She didn't want anyone to see her current state—it had become an instinctive response.

Zhu E put down the lamp and walked over slowly. Even without light, she could clearly see Qin Qingluo's condition.

Not-too-thick bedding covered the futon, with a pillow propped vertically as a backrest. Her tall frame was slightly hunched to conserve energy, and despite her efforts to clutch the quilt, the bulge of her abdomen was unmistakable in the dark...

"...Don't look."

Her voice trembled.

Zhu E took her hand, speaking softly, "Qingluo, Auntie hasn't looked at anything."

During these final days before her delivery, Zhu E rarely called her Prince anymore, instead directly using her name to console this female prince's fragile emotions.

And as the due date approached, Qin Qingluo's temper grew worse, her rage easily ignited. Zhu E had thus taken to staying close by, accompanying her in this room almost day and night.

Qin Qingluo understood Zhu E's care.

To conceal the truth from others, Zhu E had also disguised herself for her sake—pretending to be heavily pregnant. This way, no one would suspect that it was actually Qin Qingluo carrying the child.

In hindsight, it was almost tragic. Outsiders assumed their bond was so deep that, as the due date neared, the prince wouldn't leave the princess's side.

As for the man who had planted his seed within her—he had sent only a single letter from beginning to end...