My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 646 - 429: What Does It Have to Do with Me? (Two in One)_2

What kind of mindset is this?

"Understood." Receiving a vague reply, Wei Wuque no longer pressed further but sighed and said, "I fear that in this city, only the Lonely Smoke Sword can be your match."

Chen Yi immediately thought of the Lonely Smoke Sword flashing like lightning in the desert, striking against the scabbard on his back.

Unlike Huang Jing, he held a certain dread for the Lonely Smoke Sword.

At that moment, Wei Wuque's voice broke through his thoughts,

"To challenge a sword in the Jianghu and to nearly justifiably kill Huang Jing—you've done well."

"Hmm."

"However... in the Jianghu, the fortunes of one affect the fortunes of all. Without the court's protection, I fear your infamy will spread far and wide, making future steps incredibly arduous."

Raindrops slid along the surface of the umbrella, and Wei Wuque's words fell as slowly as the rain.

Chen Yi chuckled: "Master Wei, are you recruiting me again?"

"Just cherishing talent. Acting under this false identity may not be a bad idea." Wei Wuque lowered his gaze and added, "Recruiting aside, my words are no lies. Although revenge may be written off after a sword challenge, in the Jianghu, is there truly any feud that can be completely written off?"

Before Wei Wuque had even finished speaking, he turned and strode away, splashes of water scattering in the alley, his tattered robes swirling in the fierce wind.

Before turning, that man smiled and said:

"Their Jianghu—what does it have to do with me?"

......

A single bamboo hat traversed the pebble-strewn, water-covered paths, with clouds clearing behind after the rain.

Autumn was already upon them, and the wind carried a sudden chill. Min Ning added a new layer to her attire—a deep red cloak styled loosely. The wind billowed it into a round puff, making her appear as though she'd been lifted by the wind, one of the few amusing experiences on her solitary journey.

Throughout her road through the Jianghu, Min Ning never found herself excessively bored.

Though not every day offered an opportunity to act heroically and fight for justice, she felt like a freed tiger, and everything in this new world seemed novel—wildflowers, trees, even the grass seemed to possess more untamed vigor than anything seen in the Capital City.

The only issue was the often solitary journey, sometimes lasting ten, fifteen days without a soul to converse with. At moments like these, she would either shout at the sky to vent her madness, or take to pestering Zhu Yu.

There wasn't much to be done—after all, walking alone was unavoidable.

Were there any people worth befriending along the way?

Of course.

But fleeting encounters rarely lasted for an entire journey.

The rushing waters and vast world felt quiet and desolate. Stretching lazily, Min Ning moved along the stream.

Suddenly, she spotted a wild temple by the water's edge.

Patchy grass covered the area, and her foot struck something hard—a broken stele outside the temple. The characters etched onto its surface had long since blurred.

Glancing at the sky, it would only take a few hours until dusk. Why not rest here?

Rest it is!

Min Ning stepped across the shattered threshold into the temple. Inside, cobwebs hung in heavy curtains, the incense burner had a chipped corner, and the altar was covered in layers of dust—a clear sign the wild temple had been abandoned for years.

From her square bag, she pulled out a sleeping mat. She tossed it casually onto the floor and glanced at the deserted shrine. The plaques adorning it were oddly new, as if someone had deliberately restored them, yet thick cobwebs tried to seal them away, tangled and overlapping as if shrouding it from the world.

Traditionally, passing by a wild temple called for lighting incense. Min Ning thought for a moment, pulled out a stick of incense, lit it, and placed it upright.

Just as she turned back—

Whoosh.

A gust of wind extinguished the incense.

Min Ning squinted her eyes and reignited it.

The incense snuffed out again.

This temple... might just be haunted.

Fixing her gaze on that shadowy shrine plaque, Min Ning pondered for a moment,

then grabbed hold—smashing it onto the ground!

"Refuse a toast, but beg for a punishment."

After breaking it, Min Ning kicked the remains for good measure.

At that very moment, the dilapidated temple door swayed and creaked open,

a chilling wind whistled through, the rafters seemed to hang with phantom faces, whispers of faint crying could be heard from outside...

Min Ning simply smiled,

If there are ghosts, so be it!

...…

Tap, tap, tap.

Footsteps sounded.

Min Ning's eyes snapped open, scanning the wild temple encased in inky darkness, sensing an oppressive silence that seemed to squeeze out every breath.

She remained calm, seated firmly, untied the wine gourd at her waist, and took a generous swig.

One hand raised her drink while the other rested on her blade's hilt.

Outside the door, under the cloak of night, faint figures emerged—one, two, three—squeezing out from the shadows, accompanied by flickering lights breaking through the gloom.

Ah,

So, they weren't ghosts.

Min Ning suddenly felt deflated—what a letdown. Her plan to have a drunken night slaying spirits and later embellish the tale for storytellers to spread glory throughout Jianghu had now been dashed.

To think, they turned out to be humans.

The group entered the dilapidated temple—a total of six people. Four were grown men, and the remaining two were children: a boy and a bald-headed girl who looked like a young nun. Spotting Min Ning, they were visibly startled, hands hovering near their blades.

Among them, the leading man dressed in scholar's robes looked somewhat bookish, though his garments, slightly too small, did not fit well.

Seeing Min Ning alone, he asked:

"Brother, are you also here to lodge for the night?"

"Indeed." Min Ning replied.

Disguising herself as a man came naturally; her inherently heroic brows made her appear a striking gentleman. Traveling Jianghu as a man was markedly safer and more convenient than as a woman.

"So, does this temple blow the Little Spinning Wind or the South Mountain Wind?"

The scholar-clad man asked after spotting her blade, voicing an idiom of Jianghu slang.

Min Ning discerned it to be regional jargon from Sichuan, a dialect quite removed from the court's Capital City. Not entirely understanding this question from a different domain, she pondered for a moment before responding, "CROSSING DRAGONS CROSS RIVERS; NATIVE SNAKES FAN HILLS."

This common saying implied mutual non-interference. Learned from Min Ming, her spy sister back in the Capital, Min Ning often navigated Jianghu blending shadowy missions with broader wisdom. Her polished delivery betrayed no hesitation.

Hearing the reply, the scholar exchanged glances with the others before nodding faintly, retreating with his group to the opposite corner of the Mountain God Temple, distant and separated, the boundaries clear.

Disappointed that the arrivals were mere mortals, Min Ning, although disheartened, capped her wine gourd and secured it at her waist, promptly lying flat on her mat.

The group likewise settled down. The children, before sleeping, seemed to shoot glances her way repeatedly.

The dense night enveloped the surroundings. Shadows hanging overhead exuded an oppressive atmosphere.

Amidst utter blackness, faint rustling noises emerged, slowly crossing the broken threshold, inching closer.

From the doorway, moonlight shone starkly, casting a pale glow upon the ground. Silk-like white threads stretched out from the cracks, draping into the Mountain God Temple.

A half-human, half-spider figure emerged from the entrance, threads spreading wide, aiming to bind and hoist everyone inside onto the cobwebbed rafters.

Unseen and unheard, the already sleeping group remained entirely unaware.

Min Ning's eyes snapped open.

The Alerting Heart Skill of Yin Sword Mountain rang loudly.

"Foul creature—I've been waiting for you!"

Min Ning bolted upright, brandishing her blade, its glint slashing like a crescent moon in the dark.

The spider demon twisted its head, its mouth agape with terror. What should have been human lips was instead a maw of ghastly spider fangs, enough to send chills down anyone's spine.

Yet, with one sweeping stroke, the blade severed its head in a spray of blood.

Boom!

The group awoke in chaos, scrambling to grab their weapons. But all they saw was the spider demon's lifeless corpse crashing to the ground, while the tide of white webs receded as Min Ning leisurely wiped her blade clean.

The scholar-clad leader was the first to react. He clasped his hands in gratitude:

"Thank you, noble hero, for saving our lives."

The others lowered their arms, immediately following suit with clasped hands as a gesture of respect—all except the two children.

Min Ning glanced at them briefly.

One of the men nudged the children's shoulders sharply and barked: "Lost your voices? A hero just saved you!"

The boy flinched, nodding hesitantly and stammering: "Thank… thank you, noble hero…"

The girl remained silent, her gaze deeply fixed on the spider demon's corpse. The scholar-clad man thought she was distracted and repeatedly patted her shoulder.

As Min Ning turned her gaze to her, she suddenly bolted forward, shouting:

"They're human traffickers!"