Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 14

“Master Qianji! Are you sure he’s in the Fire Spirit Province?” Mu Qianjue had only agreed to join Lingyun Sect back then because Ye Wentian promised to take him to meet the legendary Master Qianji.

Yet decades had passed since he entered the sect, and not only had he never laid eyes on Qianji—he could count the number of times he’d even seen Ye Wentian on one hand.

———

At the same time, in the Fire Spirit Province—

Ye Wentian sneezed violently several times in succession, his voice slurred with drink. “Qianji, why’d you drag me here all of a sudden?”

“Did you keep your promise—not to take any disciples for a hundred years?” The white-robed man beside him had eyes as clear and detached as if they could pierce through the illusions of the world.

“Hic… Promise? I kept it.” Ye Wentian took another swig of wine.

A barely perceptible sharpness flickered in Chu Qianji’s gaze, like the last remnants of winter snow lingering in spring. “Then who is Feng Wuran?”

Ye Wentian waved a hand dismissively. “My ninth disciple.”

“Wentian, the hundred-year agreement isn’t up yet. Why take a disciple now?”

“But I didn’t recruit Feng Wuran at a sect gathering—I picked her up on the road! Let me tell you, that kid’s something else. She has the Heavenly Moon Saint Body, a supreme immortal spirit root, and she trains like a demon.” Pride oozed from Ye Wentian’s words.

Chu Qianji’s expression shifted slightly. Dipping a finger into his wine, he traced an arcane symbol on the table, then let a drop of blood fall onto it. As he watched the blood’s path, his face grew increasingly grave.

How could this be?

Why hadn’t Feng Wuran followed her predestined path to the Heavenly Sword Sect?

A shadow crossed Chu Qianji’s eyes. “Wentian, tell me exactly how you found her.”

Before Ye Wentian even finished, Chu Qianji knew something was wrong.

Someone had tampered with Feng Wuran’s fate—again.

Wiping the symbol away, Chu Qianji asked quietly, “Wentian, do you remember your mission?”

“Of course I remember. That brat the Heavenly Emperor sent us down here to deliver opportunities to his precious daughter, to help her achieve the Great Dao…” Ye Wentian’s face darkened as if recalling something unpleasant. “Instead of walking the righteous path, he resorts to underhanded schemes—sacrificing an entire minor world just to elevate one person.”

“Wentian, you shouldn’t have taken Feng Wuran as a disciple. All her fortune was meant to go to the Heavenly Emperor’s daughter. The stronger Feng Wuran grows, the weaker that girl becomes.” Chu Qianji sighed. Some people were simply born unlucky.

Ye Wentian sobered slightly, his expression turning severe. “Qianji, don’t tell me you actually agree with what the Heavenly Emperor’s doing? How many futures has he ruined for his own selfish gains?”

“And mark my words—he’s pulling strings behind the scenes. Last time I saw his daughter, she was shrouded in black karma. That kind of sin doesn’t accumulate in just one lifetime…”

For a moment, Ye Wentian’s eyes burned with intensity—but when he met Chu Qianji’s gaze again, the drunken haze had returned.

Chu Qianji’s voice was heavy with resignation. “I know. But what can we do? In the Upper Realm now, the Heavenly Emperor controls everything. If we don’t cooperate, even more innocent lives will suffer.”

“Hah! The wheel of karma turns. Retribution always comes—it’s only a matter of time.” Ye Wentian shook his head.

Chu Qianji opened his mouth to reply, only to find Ye Wentian already slumped over the table, snoring.

His eyes darkened with unspoken words.

Fine.

He’d just have to find a way to delay the Heavenly Emperor’s discovery of the anomaly here—buy Feng Wuran as much time to grow as possible.

As for how long that would last?

That depended entirely on her fate.

———

Lingyun Sect, Qianjue Peak

Feng Wuran assigned tasks to everyone with meticulous care—even Mo Jinghong received a towering stack of advanced cultivation manuals, which he accepted without complaint.

Ning Shiyue looked on the verge of tears. She’d been hoping their seventh senior brother would speak up and persuade their junior sister to go easier on them—but no such luck.

“To ensure everyone cultivates efficiently,” Feng Wuran announced cheerfully, “we’ll hold a cultivation progress meeting every six months. Unless you’re in closed-door breakthrough, attendance is mandatory.”

Tapping her chin, she added, “Seventh Senior Brother, I’ll prepare separate training materials for Third Senior Sister and Eighth Senior Brother when they return.”

At that very moment, Qin Hanyan and Yan Moyu—rushing back to the sect—suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding.

After scanning their surroundings and finding no threats, they resumed their journey, blissfully unaware that Feng Wuran was eagerly awaiting their arrival.

Back on Qianjue Peak, Feng Wuran watched her senior brothers and sisters depart with immense satisfaction.

At this rate, Lingyun Sect would grow powerful enough to knock the Heavenly Sword Sect off its pedestal.

Mu Qianjue, looking like a wilted cabbage, trudged back to his cave with an armful of books—so dazed he forgot to store them in his spatial ring.

These were priceless high-level techniques that most cultivators would kill for… and his junior sister was handing them out like candy. Was this really okay?

Once everyone had left to train, Feng Wuran nodded in approval.

“Junior Sister, how do you know each person’s cultivation so intimately?” Mo Jinghong’s obsidian eyes gleamed with quiet curiosity.

Feng Wuran stiffened. Whenever faced with Mo Jinghong, she inexplicably felt like a rabbit under a hawk’s gaze—terrified he’d see through her secrets.

Why had the original novel never mentioned someone as extraordinary as him?

“Seventh Senior Brother, Master told me all of this.”

“Fifth Junior Sister Ning Shiyue—Master only saw her on the day he accepted her as a disciple and never bothered with her after. As for Sixth Junior Brother, the last time he saw Master was ten years ago…” Mo Jinghong listed methodically.

With each example, Feng Wuran’s guilt grew.

So their master was even more unreliable than she’d thought.

At this rate, the entire sect could collapse, and he probably wouldn’t notice for years.

“If Junior Sister has no further business, you should return to your cultivation.” Mo Jinghong didn’t press further.

Feng Wuran nodded. But before she began training, there was one more place she needed to go—

One more person she needed to save.