My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 675 - 444: Finally Meeting Again (Two in One)

Chen Yi stood before the ancestral plaques, his figure oddly conspicuous among the kneeling Taoists on the floor.

On his forehead rested a single stick of incense for seeking guidance.

Among the Taoists, the oldest, Zhao Mingyuan, wiped blood from the corner of his lips and lifted his gaze to stare at this seemingly ordinary figure, as though he were their final lifeline.

His upright stance cast an imposing shadow, arms folded behind his back. His face, faintly gaunt from battle wounds, skin pressed tightly against his bones yet far from brittle, exuded an overpowering aura of killing intent that sent chills through the hearts of the Taoists.

Nearly half of them harbored thoughts of sending him away.

But calling upon a god was easy; sending one away, nearly impossible.

At this juncture, everyone understood that they could only rely on this man to quell the storm surrounding the Sword Pool.

The elder Taoist Zhao Mingyuan prostrated himself and intoned, "With Your Eminence gracing us, divine omens descend, the incense's fragrance anchors heaven and earth, burning clear incense opens the gates of the heavens, divine weapons heed the command with urgency…"

Behind him, the Taoists formed intricate hand seals in unison, joining in support.

Chen Yi frowned slightly, recognizing that this was the Taoist Summoning God Spell.

He curtly interrupted, "Speak plainly."

Despite their efforts, the Outer Heaven Demon did not stir an inch, impervious to the Summoning God Spell's influence. A creeping dread began to settle over the Taoists, his suffocating aura of slaughter sticking to the air like viscous ooze, forcing cold sweat to bead on their brows.

Zhao Mingyuan swallowed hard before speaking:

"We called upon Your Eminence only to humbly beseech you—deliver aid amid our calamity, as lifeline amid our despair."

Chen Yi, having spent days seeking a way into the secret realm and nearly hacking down the gates of the Sword Pool in frustration, had lit the incense on a whim, with little hope of success—only to be drawn in by the chants of these Taoists.

His expression remained composed. "Tell me more."

The elder Taoist hesitated. For centuries, countless gods and demons had been summoned—yet never before had they encountered a Heavenly Demon so easily approachable. His voice carried a faint tremble as he stammered:

"Our Chongyang Temple's Sword Pool, built through six hundred years of merit, now teeters on the brink of collapse due to the whims of insanity brought by Wu Buxu. We implore Your Eminence to intervene!"

Wu Buxu…

To Chen Yi, the name was intimately familiar.

Zhou Yitang had lost an arm to the former Number One under heaven but, through that tragedy, severed the Three Corpses and ascended to the status of Sword Armor at Yin Sword Mountain—a tale Chen Yi had long committed to memory.

With the recollections of his past life, Chen Yi was also aware that Wu Buxu, maddened and detached from sanity, had fractured his form into three via the Shangqing Dao's One Qi Transforming into Three Pure Ones technique. He now resided in three distinct locations: the Sword Homeland, the Sword Tomb, and, most puzzlingly, a hidden third location that had yet to reveal itself—to all appearances, it now seemed to be Chongyang Temple's Sword Pool.

The Taoists watched Chen Yi's prolonged silence, unease creeping into their hearts.

Could it be… fear?

It wasn't hard to imagine: Wu Buxu, once hailed as the Number One under heavens, had lost to the Transcendent Xu Qi but lingered in infamy despite succumbing to madness—a reputation ringing through the three realms.

Zhao Mingyuan's mind worked fast: rather than convince Chen Yi to directly confront Wu Buxu, it might be more prudent to first bind him to their cause.

So, his voice rose confidently: "Your Eminence, we need not focus on Wu Buxu for now. What demands immediate resolution is the blood feud of Chongyang Temple—just within reach, justice must be served!"

Chen Yi snapped back from his thoughts. "I never said I won't kill Wu Buxu."

As his terse words dropped into place, the Taoists momentarily froze, then erupted into simultaneous disbelief and relief.

Zhao Mingyuan suppressed his inner elation, maintaining an outer veneer of sorrowful anguish as he lamented:

"Then, may we humbly request Your Eminence begin with avenging our blood feud."

"Speak."

"Our Chongyang Temple has aided countless souls and adhered to the Quanzhen Heavenly Dao, abstaining from worldly strife—yet today, three intruders have violated our Taoist Order, slain our Taoists, and desecrated our temple!"

"Who are these three?"

Zhao Mingyuan described: "One wears a Taoist robe and wields a long sword, the youngest of the three—his crimes are the least."

Chen Yi mulled over the vague description and added, "And the second?"

"Another carries a sword and knife, with tied hair and features sharp and commanding, but surrounded by an aura of menacing hostility."

Chen Yi paused momentarily, brows furrowing. "Do they bear some resemblance to me?"

The Taoists, upon reflection, nodded subconsciously—it was, indeed, a faint resemblance.

Zhao Mingyuan flattered, "Far different from Your Eminence's divine bearing."

"And the third?"

Zhao Mingyuan's bloodshot eyes glimmered with unbridled intensity as he spat:

"The third harbors the deepest blood feud and gravest sins—a villain whose crimes defy enumeration, whom even the South Mountain's bamboo could not chronicle. It is by the heavens' will that Your Eminence is sent to annihilate them!

This person appears as a female crown, adorned in a crescent moon crown, wielding a peach wood sword. Through a dream, she slew one hundred and sixteen of our disciples, claiming arrogantly to be a Nascent Soul Immortal. I suspect she practices Ghost Immortal techniques! She is deserving of heavenly condemnation!"

Chen Yi froze in place, silent in thought.

Zhao Mingyuan exuded fervent righteous indignation, with surrounding Taoists trembling uncontrollably, their tear-pricked eyes pooling with palpable grief and rage.

Among the ancestral plaques of Chongyang Temple, Chen Yi raised his face and, with a plain and gentle smile, said:

"Very well. I know who my first target shall be."

Zhao Mingyuan lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes bursting with fervor as he proclaimed with heartfelt conviction: "Dare I ask whom Your Eminence will strike first?!" Behind him, the Taoists erupted with equal zeal.

Chen Yi gestured sharply:

"You."

.........

The ones seeking swords were Min Ning and Lu Ying, leaving Yin Weiyin idle with nothing to tend to. She had no need for sleep, nor any inclination toward meditation—thus, she simply hugged her knees, counting the dwindling sparks in the bonfire.

The female crown had occasionally harbored fleeting thoughts of Min Ning's death.

Their relationship, ultimately one of mutual animosity, left lingering scars despite time's attempts to smooth over the edges. Before she fully committed to her relationship with Chen Yi, Yin Weiyin would occasionally worry about Min Ning's ability to whisper pillow-side rumors, and even felt the occasional pang of jealousy toward him.

Her darkest imaginings envisioned a worn letter one day arriving at Chen Yi's residence, carried discreetly by a constable. The letter would be brief, detailing Min Ning's death. Chen Yi, upon receiving it, would stand frozen in the doorway until she came to him, holding him quietly in her embrace as he softly wept.