My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 698 - 454: The Ants Shake the Tree (Combined)

Zhou Yitang remained silent.

When she was silent, there was a natural flow of chilling stillness that seeped into one's heart. She always seemed to be in thought, but Chen Yi understood that she wasn't actually thinking of anything—just immersed in silence, an inner world neither void nor chaotic, with a mind as ancient and boundless as the heavens themselves. Whether spoken to or scolded, her face was as placid as an undisturbed well. It was neither escape nor argument, but pure silence. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

At such moments, it felt like there was no form, no shadow, and no self.

Even the silent one didn't know why they had chosen silence.

Chen Yi took a deep breath, realizing she wasn't thinking of anything right now, and continued inwardly in a low voice:

"Do you remember earlier when she asked me if I was lonely? Back when I demonstrated the ability to kill, I thought she'd be awestruck. But instead, she asked me that—'Are you lonely?' I asked her why she would ask such a question, and then I realized that she thought you've always been lonely."

Zhou Yitang stayed silent.

Chen Yi, however, remained patient and said calmly, "I've seen you many times before, sitting alone, meditating on swordsmanship—neither paying attention to others nor yourself. They say disciples will emulate their masters, and indeed, Lu Ying has been learning from you. Yet she also resists learning from you. She feels that your way is too lonely, and she fears… she has always feared becoming as lonely as you."

As those final words fell, Zhou Yitang seemed to stir slightly.

She responded almost instinctively, "Mm."

That seemed to show an opening… Chen Yi suddenly spoke:

"Lu Ying has now become exactly what she feared!"

On the other side, the one-armed woman's breathing accelerated slightly.

Disciples resembling their masters—there was never anything inherently bad about it, nor should there be. The path the master had walked before meant that the disciple's path should be steadier.

The way was smooth and straight, not rugged or twisted. By all accounts, the path was promising. As the shadows pressed upon the horizon, Zhou Yitang's eyes became dark and profound, forlorn yet extending faint traces of light. It was the resurgence of old memories that welled up—the dim light indistinct and hazy, reflecting a bright moonlit valley, glowing white and vast, scattering the fireflies in frantic flight. Within the concealed woods, a girl emerged with cupped hands, as though capturing something. From her elevated vantage point, the one-armed woman saw everything—the girl hunched forward, slinking around corners as she climbed the mountain, furtive and sly...

At that moment, Chen Yi suddenly said:

"Do you know she once slapped me on the butt?"

"Oh?" Zhou Yitang snapped out of her thoughts.

"When you weren't paying attention, she used her status as my senior sister to hit me on the butt. She chased me around just to do it. I could only flee, but she wasn't in a hurry to chase me. She'd wait until I returned to the training hall—it didn't matter, I couldn't escape Cangwu Peak anyway."

Chen Yi reminisced about Lu Ying's playful malice and chuckled, saying:

"One second, she seemed fine, as if she'd forgotten about it. The next second, out came the ruler—cold and stern, she'd say, 'If you slipped away once, you'll get three strikes!'"

Of course Zhou Yitang understood what "seconds" meant. She lapsed into silence, and the image of that mischievous girl surfaced again...

"Did she ever catch fireflies for you?"

As if struck by some shared intuition, his words intertwined with Zhou Yitang's memories. She recalled young Lu Ying running towards her, asking quietly if she knew what was in her hands. When Zhou Yitang deliberately replied, "I don't know," the young girl raised her hands to her face, released her fingers, and in her memory, a firefly made an audible "thump" as it struck her face...

Her hem was muddy,

Fireflies cupped in her hands.

Though Zhou Yitang wasn't physically present, Chen Yi seemed able to sense her demeanor—a thread of emotion swimming quietly through. He smiled wryly and said:

"You think I don't know what you're pondering, but I'm the worm burrowing in your heart's depths. You think Lu Ying being like you isn't bad at all—carrying forward your mantle, inheriting your sword. Even if she ascends someday, this world will still retain seventy percent of your Sword Dao, paving roads for later generations. But I… I don't concern myself with such grand thoughts. I just wish my senior sister could be a little happier..."

Having said this, Chen Yi paused to reflect and sighed, "A man like me, worrying like a doting mother."

Zhou Yitang chuckled faintly but lowered her gaze.

What he said, Zhou Yitang couldn't deny. Underneath Lu Ying's veneer of maturity lay a lost child—awed by the burden of inheriting the Sword Dao yet terrified of the solitude of towering mountains. Deep down, she had always longed for a carefree life. Even receiving the commendation of "a Dao heart as serene as a crane" left her both flattered and uneasy, belatedly realizing she bore the face of Cangwu Peak...

Zhou Yitang had never pressured Lu Ying much; it was her very presence—that was pressure.

Chen Yi brushed his fingers through his hair and said earnestly, "If not for immortals eyeing her, then talking to you now is really just idle chatter. Lu Ying's happiness is such a trivial matter. To many people, it's like chasing after sesame seeds and throwing away watermelons. But you're Sword Armor, Master Tongxuan. She doesn't need to bear so much, doesn't need to fight tooth and nail for the Sword Dao, doesn't need to shoulder the rise and fall of a sect. Letting her live happily is perfectly fine too.

Sigh, I suppose I'm foolish, going on about all this with you."

Zhou Yitang replied, "Not foolish."

Chen Yi seized the opportunity and tentatively asked, "Then... what about pulling her out of this so-called realm of 'object and self forgotten'?"

Zhou Yitang fell into immediate silence—neither affirming nor denying, as though debating within herself.

The realm of "object and self forgotten" was an elusive, lifelong pursuit for martial artists. With no conscious will, the heart harmonized with the Heavenly Dao—becoming one with its radiance, mingling with its dust, embodying the source of all things. Those walking the path of the Living Sword blended sword and Dao into a singular pursuit. Conversely, those wielding the Killing Sword sought to shatter Dao through blade. Zhou Yitang had meditated on swordsmanship for years; even after disarming herself by breaking the Ruoque Sword, she had never strayed far from these principles. Over the past year, she had immersed herself even deeper. Her Sword Dao mastery seemed poised for a further breakthrough. Should she someday achieve great success and challenge Xu Qi to another duel, unless he had ascended to the peerless state of immortality and ancestorhood, there would be no need to retreat another step.