My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 656 - 433: What to Live For (Two in One)_3

"Foolish!" Chen Qingyang raised his voice, his face changed as he said, "Though His Majesty is an ambitious ruler, he is—alas—too ambitious, verging on recklessness.

Nothing is ready yet. If this matter reaches the wrong hands, it will certainly fuel our pursuit of progress, only to smother us in the end. Rashly dispatching troops while letting them interfere would render all our plans for naught."

The Prime Minister's expression stiffened slightly, but he regained his composure.

Though he held the title of Prime Minister, it didn't mean he could suppress all members of the Wanyan Family. Even if he could suppress them, there would surely be those who feigned compliance while secretly disobeying.

Thinking of this, the Prime Minister sighed and said, "So it seems, what was once a brilliant move has now become an unremarkable one. Bringing this intelligence back merely puts you all on the burning coals."

"You speak the truth, Prime Minister, forgive me for my earlier outburst."

Chen Qingyang sighed and spoke.

The Prime Minister waved his hand, then said, "No need for apologies, we are both ministers concerned for the kingdom's welfare—how could I bear to hold a grudge?"

Chen Qingyang continued, "I understand why the Prime Minister feels as he does. Yet, what was feasible back then is no longer so now... These border espionage reports have turned into a hot potato... What, ultimately, is the proper course of action?"

As he spoke, he paused, then added:

"I heard the Prime Minister does not favor the black-and-white entanglements of Go but is instead fond of the Chu-Han chessboard. Why don't we play a round while we discuss?"

......

Blood spilled across the narrow mountain path leading to Jinxiu Gate.

The ground was strewn with corpses.

Swords and knives were painted with red.

Chen Yi's hair was disheveled, his robes slashed in multiple places, wounds of varying sizes blanketed his body, faintly throbbing.

However, the spies from Western Jin felt nearly no pain.

Because the dead do not feel pain.

A donkey's head lay severed on the ground. Chen Yi could not recall the instant the poor animal's neck had been cut, but saw its blood mingling with human blood on the cart.

Amidst the pool of crimson, Duomian Ghost was reduced to only half a mutilated body, writhing violently, gasping for breath, still attempting to grasp his weapon.

Chen Yi stepped forward slowly, without a single stray thought, his blade pointed directly at his throat as he said:

"Still not dead?"

In the frenzied slaughter just now, Duomian Ghost's intense will had left a deep impression on him. The man tried sending disciples to their deaths and walking alone, only for Chen Yi to catch up and prevent him. Then he attempted to cover the spies' retreat by sacrificing himself, yet failed again. Their brief exchange was filled with lethal blows, yet he exhausted his strength and fell in this pool of blood.

And even fallen, his breath still lingered.

"I'm curious—how did you think you could outwit me?"

Chen Yi wiped the blood off his face, coldly watching Duomian Ghost's pitiful attempts at breathing.

"We… heard about… the affair at Clear Breeze Pavilion, and your reputation as an altruistic man, benevolent to your thousand households… If Little Peach had died, you… would sympathize, and wouldn't suspect us…"

Duomian Ghost's voice was hoarse. He gasped with every word.

"But heavens defy human plans… She didn't die, only lost a leg..."

Chen Yi's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Seizing on his apparent distraction, Duomian Ghost suddenly leapt with a blade, summoning all his remaining strength for one final attack.

The sword flashed like a rainbow; the knife clashed against the blade—broken in an instant!

Duomian Ghost's eyes widened as he faced Chen Yi's tranquil expression. At last, his face contorted in a sorrowful grimace as he muttered:

"Tragic! Death it is today!"

His expression hovered between weeping and smiling as the sword slashed down toward him. In his final moment, he sighed one last utterance:

"Alas, the Prime Minister's favor..."

Humans always live for something.

With a sickening noise, the sword pierced through his throat, shredding all words into fragments.

A killer's blade.

......

At the Prime Minister's estate.

The two most eminent figures sat under the pavilion, the chessboard spread across the table—divided by the boundary of Chu and Han.

"If that's the case," the Prime Minister contemplated a chess piece for a long moment, then spoke, "this intelligence report should better be left unclaimed."

"Prime Minister, by this you mean..."

"Since it's a hot potato, let it go—then it will burn no longer."

The Prime Minister laughed heartily, then placed a chess piece across the boundary of Chu and Han.

Having heard this, Chen Qingyang realized it was the best course of action and laughed as well: "The Prime Minister indeed lives up to his boldness."

"Not at all, not at all. Let's finish this match."

"Very well, I take your pawn."

"Merely a discarded piece."

The pawn was casually tossed into a corner of the chess graveyard.

Lying there quietly, staring at the sky.

As quiet as death itself.