Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 12

Liu Canglan smiled without a word, his eyes clear and knowing.

“Ahhh—!”

A sudden scream drew everyone’s attention, followed by Mu Qianjue’s frantic voice: “Hurry and get the old man back here! If he doesn’t return soon, his disciple is going to lose his mind!”

The group exchanged worried glances—this was the first time they’d seen Mu Qianjue so panicked.

“I’ll contact Master. Seventh Junior Brother, go check on Fourth Junior Brother first.” Liu Canglan rubbed his temples in frustration. Their master, Ye Wentian, was notoriously unpredictable, and summoning him back would likely take time.

Sure enough, as soon as Liu Canglan sent a message via a transmission talisman, a reply came through:

“Hic—Eldest disciple, your master is currently in a secret… hic… realm and can’t return. Let Jinghong handle it for now.”

Liu Canglan’s eyebrow twitched. If you’re going to fake being drunk, at least cut out the hiccups—then I might actually believe you!

Suppressing a sigh, he turned to the others. “Master can’t return right now. Seventh Junior Brother, what should we do?”

“There’s no need to worry, Senior Brother. Fourth Senior Brother isn’t in any danger,” Mo Jinghong said, his gaze as deep and calm as an ancient pool. “He’s just obtained a rare flame and hasn’t yet learned to control it. Once he does, everything will be fine.”

The tension in the group eased instantly. If Mo Jinghong said it was fine, then it had to be fine.

“I wonder what kind of rare flame Fourth Senior Brother got. It burned the entire mountain bald!” Baili Wenliu mused, equal parts curious and relieved.

Thankfully, each mountain had its own protective barrier—otherwise, the fire could’ve reduced the entire Lingyun Sect to ashes.

Mo Jinghong shook his head. There were many tiers of rare flames, and he couldn’t make assumptions. But given its destructive power, this one was undoubtedly high-grade.

Mu Qianjue would have to tame the flame himself—only then could he truly wield its power.

…..

Inside the Cave

Mu Qianjue nearly lost his mind after hearing Mo Jinghong’s message.

Every piece of clothing in his spatial ring had been incinerated, and the flames on his body only burned fiercer. One particularly mischievous fireball danced around the cave, reducing everything it touched to ashes.

He really wanted to grab it and give it a good spanking—but Mo Jinghong had just told him to subdue it instead.

Worse, he’d been warned that if he failed to tame this flame, he might never wear clothes again.

Taking a deep breath, Mu Qianjue sat cross-legged. The rare flame had appeared after he consumed the Blazing Heart Blood Mushroom, catching him completely off guard. Panic had allowed the fire to rage out of control, scorching the entire mountain.

But if this flame belonged to him, then he would master it.

Channeling his spiritual energy, he realized his dantian had expanded exponentially—now as vast as a city. Even his cultivation, previously stuck at the mid-stage Golden Core realm, showed signs of breaking through.

Was this the benefit of a rare flame?

No wonder fire-attribute cultivators across the Nine Provinces spent their entire lives chasing after them.

A powerful aura emanated from Mu Qianjue as his divine sense locked onto the unruly fireball. A drop of his heart’s blood flew toward it, but the flame resisted fiercely.

Gritting his teeth against the searing pain in his mind, he relentlessly pressed on.

A flame that had birthed its own spirit—this was the dream of every artificer.

He couldn’t let it slip away.

With an overwhelming surge of willpower, he forced the rebellious fire spirit into submission. Sensing his dominance, the spirit’s resistance gradually faded.

After what felt like an eternity, Mu Qianjue felt a new connection form within his soul.

Success.

But he didn’t stop there. Harnessing the flame’s power, he shattered the barrier to the late-stage Golden Core realm in one decisive breakthrough.

When he finally opened his eyes, the flames covering his body had vanished. With a flick of his wrist, a docile fireball floated obediently above his palm.

Now that the crisis was resolved, he strode toward the cave entrance—only for a gust of wind to rush in, sending a sudden chill over his bare skin.

Mu Qianjue’s face darkened.

“Seventh Junior Brother,” he called out, “bring me a set of clothes!”

(Why not use a transmission talisman? Because all of them had been burned to ashes.)

But when Baili Wenliu strolled in instead, his expression soured even further.

“Wow, Fourth Senior Brother,” Baili Wenliu whistled, grinning shamelessly. “Not bad at all! Lean in clothes, stacked underneath—who knew?”

“Get out!“

With a wave of his hand, Mu Qianjue sent Baili Wenliu flying into the barrier outside.

Baili Wenliu landed in a daze, then gasped in disbelief. “What the—?! Senior Brother! We’re both mid-stage Golden Core cultivators—how is he so much stronger than me?!”

“Wenliu,” Liu Canglan said patiently, watching Mu Qianjue emerge from the cave, “Qianjue has already reached the late-stage Golden Core realm. And as a dual-attribute cultivator, he’s naturally stronger.”

Dugu Jianyi was mildly surprised. Mu Qianjue had only reached mid-stage Golden Core three years ago—how had he broken through so quickly?

Once a cultivator reached the Golden Core realm, progress became exponentially harder. Even their prodigious eldest senior brother had taken ten years to advance from mid to late-stage.

(Of course, freaks like Mo Jinghong didn’t count.)

Ning Shiyue circled Mu Qianjue, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Fourth Senior Brother, what kind of miracle pill did you take to break through? Spill the secret!”

Mu Qianjue flicked her forehead lightly, then snapped open his folding fan with a roguish smile. “Your Fourth Senior Brother is a natural genius. Why would I need pills?”

“Tch.” Ning Shiyue rolled her eyes. “Keep your secrets. I’ll surpass you sooner or later!”

Mu Qianjue then walked over to Feng Wuran and ruffled her hair affectionately. “I really must thank you, little junior sister. From now on, if you ever need anything, just say the word—I’ll move mountains for you.”

Feng Wuran beamed. “Since you offered, there is something I’d like to ask.”

“Name it,” Mu Qianjue said, intrigued.

No one noticed Mo Jinghong watching him with an amused smirk.