CHAPTER 369: CHAPTER 299 SHE FINALLY UNDERSTANDS

That Golden Core was as small as a mustard seed.

Yet, it was still a Golden Core.

Chen Yi gazed at the small Golden Core, examining it carefully, unable to tire of its sight no matter how long he looked.

When the time came, he thought, he’d show it off to the little fox at home, and during his leave, when Yin Weiyin visited, he’d show it off to her too.

Chen Yi’s thoughts weren’t complicated. Unlike many Daoists who, upon forming a Golden Core, would become elated like a triumphant scholar or supremely detached from happiness and sorrow, Chen Yi was rather simple-minded.

He had always been a more family-oriented person. The moment his Golden Core emerged, his first thought was not ascending to immortality but simply the desire to flaunt it a little at home.

"Master, look at this."

Chen Yi held the Golden Core in his fingers and spoke.

"Small as a mustard seed," Zhou Yitang said.

Chen Yi blinked and immediately revealed a crestfallen expression.

The one-armed woman, seeing this, said casually, "As long as it’s sufficient, it’s enough."

Her words were not an intentional comfort. The larger the Golden Core, the more Primordial Qi was required to maintain its operation. For someone at Chen Yi’s current martial stage, a top-grade Golden Core, one large enough to occupy half his cave dwelling, would cause the necessary Qi to overwhelm his meridians and apertures.

But this tiny Golden Core, as small as a mustard seed, neither hindered Chen Yi’s martial realm nor disrupted normal functioning. It was, in fact, perfectly suited to him.

After all, the Golden Core Realm was merely one stage on the long path to eternal life. Regardless of the Core’s quality, it would ultimately prove insignificant should he one day ascend to become an immortal.

"This Golden Core was naturally condensed by the Heavenly Eye within your Heart Lake," Zhou Yitang added once she noticed Chen Yi continuing to stare fixedly at the Golden Core. "If you had waited five or ten years, it would surely have developed into the highest-grade Nine Revolutions Golden Core. But by guiding you to Open Heaven Eye now, I’ve essentially forced the process prematurely. And yet, this premature forcefulness happens to suit you."

Chen Yi nodded slightly, thinking not of long journeys but, rather, of how this might help him pilot a flying sword to assassinate foes across a thousand li. "One day, when my cultivation is complete, I very much hope that I can strike down those schemers of the mountain with a single sword."

Zhou Yitang heard this and asked indifferently:

"And if I am among those scheming against you?"

Chen Yi blinked, then joked:

"Then I’d simply switch to another sword to strike you so hard you’d lose your bearings."

The one-armed woman did not respond.

Mist lingered within the cave. Chen Yi could not discern her expression.

Chen Yi looked down at the Golden Core, then at her once more. The one-armed woman seemed puzzled by his actions.

"What is it?" Zhou Yitang asked.

Chen Yi mulled it over before smiling and saying:

"You’ve always been so considerate and kind to me. So in the future... how could I ever defy you as your disciple?"

A natural chill flickered in the one-armed woman’s gaze.

Then she raised her hand and pressed it downward above the Heart Lake.

A sudden "boom" seemed to echo. Chen Yi felt his entire Heart Lake suddenly erupt into a frenzied boiling storm, as though a spear had stabbed heavily through his very soul. A piercing agony, untraceable in origin, shot through him.

The lake’s waters raged and boiled, eventually converging into calm. Waves of chaotic thoughts spiraled within his mind, tormenting him endlessly.

No one could tell how much time passed before Chen Yi’s Heart Lake settled into tranquility again. When he lifted his head, Zhou Yitang had vanished.

He quickly released his interior vision technique.

Returning to the outside world, Chen Yi opened his eyes and immediately turned to stare at the one-armed woman.

"How does it feel?" she asked, her gaze nonchalant.

Chen Yi rubbed the corner of his mouth, flashing an insincere smile as he muttered:

"Not bad... actually. Painful though."

This kind of pain could not be compared to any physical suffering. The agony of the body came with a delay, but the torment of the heart was far deeper, more terrifying, as if one’s sensitivity had been dialed up a thousandfold before a stabbing pain struck.

Zhou Yitang stood silently by the water’s edge. All around was quiet; the fish swimming in the lake had vanished at some unknown moment, leaving a desolate and eerie stillness in the air.

Chen Yi stared at her intently, about to say something when—

She suddenly remarked, "I was the same back then."

Chen Yi froze, then softened his voice: "You mean... the wedding night in our past life."

Zhou Yitang did not reply, remaining silent as though lost in thought.

And just like that, the anger brewing within Chen Yi dissipated entirely into nothingness.

He slowly stepped closer to Zhou Yitang, wrapping his arms around her from behind:

"I’ve always felt guilty."

Chen Yi would never forget how he had treated his master in their past life.

From birth, he had a strong desire for vengeance, bound together with extreme stubbornness. Locking her in confinement, preparing medicine but leaving it aside, even forcing her to wear a collar... Looking back now, it was all too inhumane.

The methods he indulged in had been a source of delight, but he should never have treated her that way—yet, at the time, he had lost himself in it, while the one-armed woman’s stubborn refusal to bow only fueled him further.

If, in their past life, Zhou Yitang had been like Yin Tingxue in this life—complying with him despite her unwillingness—he might not have been so relentless in his methods. But... but... Forget it. There were no "buts."

Seeing her stand still, neither snuggling into his embrace nor pushing him away, Chen Yi softened his tone further:

"I know your temperament is just like this. I also know that I should accommodate you in everything, but... back then, in a moment of impulsiveness, I just couldn’t resist forcing you to yield to me."

Zhou Yitang turned her face slightly to the side, her lips still pressed tightly together.

Seeing this, Chen Yi continued:

"But actually... actually, later on, as we traveled the Jianghu together, didn’t things improve? Back then, I felt it was really good, really good. I spoke, and you would sometimes respond with a word or two. You even started pushing me to practice swordsmanship again, teaching me Taoist techniques. And at night, you stopped resisting... Later, when we returned to Yin Sword Mountain, and Lu Ying wasn’t around, we were truly like husband and wife, living contentedly on simple meals."

"Sometimes, even when you harbored lingering resentment and didn’t want to engage with me, if I asked you how the food tasted, you would nod slightly... Moments like those, I remembered very clearly."

"Zhu Yu, whether in our past life or this current one, I’ve always wanted to be good to you. If not for you teaching me the Living Sword, I wouldn’t have gone to mend the heavens. At that time, I thought I couldn’t let my master down..."

"No need to say more," she interrupted at last.

Mentioning his death, she could no longer contain her voice.

When he died, Cangwu Peak fell into a deafening silence that lasted a long, long while.

Chen Yi also stayed silent, quietly holding her.

Humans are easily influenced—almost every moment, in fact. Even though Chen Yi fancied himself someone who remained steadfast, he realized that the one conviction he had held onto his entire life was his weakness for beauty.

And yet, he too had been influenced by others.

Whether it was Zhou Yitang, Yin Tingxue, or Min Ning—they were all, at their core, extraordinary women. Zhou Yitang’s Living Sword, Yin Tingxue’s innate compassion, Min Ning’s chivalrous sense of justice; each had left their marks on him.

With his nature, falling into depravity, committing unforgivable acts, would have been all too easy. Yet, their influence ensured he never completely descended into that abyss.

In his past life, when he resolutely went to mend the heavens, wasn’t there an undercurrent of their subtle influence as well?

But in this life, he thought, no matter what, the outcome would not be the same.

As he gently held Zhou Yitang, Chen Yi contemplated this and slowly said:

"After the new year, let Yin Tingxue follow you to Yin Sword Mountain. You and Lu Ying should teach her Taoist skills. As for swordsmanship... it’s fine whether you teach her or not. What if she becomes more skilled than me and refuses to let me bully her? Actually, better not teach her swordsmanship..."

The one-armed woman said, "Then I must teach her."

Chen Yi blinked and relented, "Alright, alright, as if she’d dare surpass me in skill."

A soft breeze brushed their faces, leaves drooped, and ripples reappeared on the water’s surface as the fish swam back into view.

Tranquility and warmth settled between the two during this time. Ever since Chen Yi had started showing visible improvement, the deep-seated estrangement between him and Zhou Yitang had loosened somewhat.

Lowering his gaze, Chen Yi continued:

"Once I leave the Capital City, I’ll roam the Jianghu as a half-immortal, half-chivalrous wanderer. By then, Yin Sword Mountain will hear of my fame. When I enter the Martial Rankings, I’ll ascend the mountain myself and ask the sect master for your hand. That would resolve one of the regrets of our past life."

The one-armed woman tilted her gaze slightly towards him.

Chen Yi simply smiled and promised:

"That spot has always been yours."

Zhou Yitang responded with a faint smile.

He had gifted many flowers to other women before.

Be it Yin Tingxue’s paper flowers or Qin Qingluo’s wild chrysanthemums... and in the future, he would likely gift flowers to other women still.

But none of them could ever compare to the peonies that blanketed Cangwu Peak, blooming in vibrant hues come spring, painting the mountain in a riot of color.

As Chen Yi embraced her, her hand inadvertently brushed against the silver hairpin hidden within his robes.

It was Qin Qingluo’s hairpin. But when that prince’s arrow was shot, she returned it to him, as if to sever all ties between them.

Chen Yi cursed inwardly and quickly stepped back, but Zhou Yitang had already noticed.

"That hairpin..." she murmured.

Chen Yi scrambled to compose an explanation.

Yet before he could fully string together some sweet words, Zhou Yitang calmly said, "I already saw everything."

"When she shot the arrow?"

Chen Yi brushed at the messy strands of hair by his temple.

At that time, Qin Qingluo stood on horseback, bow drawn, and the arrow loosed, streaking through the air.

Chen Yi didn’t know if she had recognized him from afar—or perhaps recognition wasn’t needed. She only wished to discard that hairpin, coincidentally while he was nearby.

Seeing Zhou Yitang neither jealous nor angry, Chen Yi whispered gently:

"Perhaps she wanted... to sever our bond with that arrow."

Within the glaze of the hairpin lay a tangle of emotions. It suggested that unbeknownst to them, mutual feelings had taken root, connecting the two beyond a child and a princess.

Realizing this, Qin Qingluo had chosen to sever the relationship cleanly.

The one-armed woman murmured, "Severing with an arrow..."

But that’s not how it should’ve been. She should have forgotten him from the very start; only then could the bond truly be severed.

For if a thought arises, countless thoughts follow. An arrow meant to sever only deepens the bond.

She hadn’t understood that back then...

And so, Zhou Yitang sighed, "She doesn’t understand."

"And you?" Chen Yi detected a clue in her tone and couldn’t help but ask.

"There was a time when I didn’t understand either."

Chen Yi froze in surprise.

Suddenly, she recalled their first meeting, followed by memories of their wedding ceremony and the storms they weathered together—an overwhelming flood of intricate details, leaving her emotions tangled and convoluted. Ultimately, she let out a soft sigh, absent of fanfare, no storms, no heavenly signs, and quietly withdrew herself from Chen Yi’s embrace.

The one-armed woman turned her back and drifted away into the distance, leaving only a solitary figure amidst the vastness of heaven and earth.

It was only after he died that she came to understand.