Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 15

Qingyun Province, Forging City.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of hammering echoed throughout the city.

“Little Junior Sister, when exactly is the person we’re looking for going to appear?” Mo Jinghong’s features were not conventionally handsome, yet his every movement exuded an air of noble elegance.

Dressed in silver robes, he remained immaculate in this soot-filled city of flying embers.

“Soon, very soon,” Feng Wanzhuo replied, her crystal-clear eyes scanning their surroundings.

“If I recall correctly, you said the same thing three days ago.”

Feng Wanzhuo felt a twinge of guilt. She didn’t know the exact day they would encounter the master of Kunxuan Pavilion.

She only remembered that in the original story, around this time, Feng Wanzhuo and Su Yanran had wandered through Forging City together.

On the street, they had come across an elderly man. Feng Wanzhuo noticed a strange red line on the man’s right hand, strikingly similar to a symptom of poisoning described in ancient texts.

She had wanted to warn him, but Su Yanran stopped her, telling her not to meddle.

After returning to the Heavenly Sword Sect, however, Su Yanran secretly went back to Forging City, found the old man, and informed him of the poison—claiming she could cure him.

Using the prescription Feng Wanzhuo had prepared, Su Yanran handed it to the old man, then took a ninth-grade spirit herb from her jade bracelet and gave it to him.

The old man was endlessly grateful. That man turned out to be the master of Kunxuan Pavilion.

Thanks to this life-saving favor, Su Yanran became Kunxuan Pavilion’s mysterious young master.

But now, Feng Wanzhuo hadn’t followed the original plot by joining the Heavenly Sword Sect with Su Yanran, nor would anyone drag Su Yanran to Forging City.

If Feng Wanzhuo didn’t come here either, the master of Kunxuan Pavilion likely wouldn’t have much time left.

“Little Junior Sister, why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for?” Mo Jinghong’s posture was as poised as jade as he reached out and ruffled Feng Wanzhuo’s fluffy head.

Feng Wanzhuo shook her head. She didn’t know how to explain—transmigrating into a book wasn’t something easily put into words.

Mo Jinghong’s voice deepened. “Little Junior Sister, are you looking for the master of Kunxuan Pavilion?”

“You… how did you know?” Feng Wanzhuo’s eyes brightened as she tentatively asked, “Seventh Senior Brother, are you also a transmigrator?”

Mo Jinghong raised his hand and flicked her forehead.

“Ow!”

Feng Wanzhuo yelped, “Seventh Senior Brother, that hurt!”

“Little Junior Sister, read fewer storybooks and cultivate more. This is a ruthless world of immortal cultivation—any careless word could make you a target.” His tone was meaningful.

After living through multiple lifetimes, your guard is still this weak?

Fortunately, this time, she had retained some memories. Otherwise, with her kind-hearted nature, she might have repeated the same mistakes.

“Thank you for your guidance, Seventh Senior Brother.” Feng Wanzhuo’s heart skipped a beat as she realized her recklessness.

The harmonious atmosphere of Lingyun Sect had made her forget the brutality of the cultivation world.

Her soul was that of an otherworldly being. If refined into a Soul-Gathering Pill, it could expand one’s sea of consciousness without karmic repercussions—making it a supreme treasure for nourishing the divine sense.

“Everyone in Lingyun Sect has their own secrets, so no one minds if you act unusual. But outside the sect, prying eyes are everywhere. You must be cautious with your words and actions.” Mo Jinghong’s voice was stern.

Neither spoke further as they continued walking. Before long, Feng Wanzhuo spotted a familiar figure in the distance.

The person looked flustered, glancing around as if evading someone.

“Seventh Senior Brother, follow me.” Feng Wanzhuo tugged Mo Jinghong’s sleeve and turned a corner.

Her attention was entirely on Su Yanran, so she failed to notice the icy, bone-piercing killing intent that flashed in Mo Jinghong’s picturesque eyes.

Suddenly, a chill ran down Feng Wanzhuo’s spine. She turned abruptly. “Seventh Senior Brother, is someone following us?”

“No. Someone else is following her.” Mo Jinghong suppressed his murderous aura. Su Yanran is still needed to open the path to the heavens. She can live… for now.

Feng Wanzhuo glanced around but saw no one else. Could that person also be using a Concealment Talisman?

“That person’s cultivation surpasses both of ours.” Mo Jinghong transmitted his voice through divine sense.

Feng Wanzhuo looked at him uncertainly. He was at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage—anyone stronger would be in the Divine Transformation Realm.

If a Divine Transformation expert was watching Su Yanran, it was too dangerous to follow.

Though there was only one realm between Nascent Soul and Divine Transformation, beneath Divine Transformation, all were mere ants.

A Divine Transformation cultivator could kill a Nascent Soul cultivator as easily as crushing an ant.

Upon reaching Divine Transformation, cultivators could manifest a spiritual domain. Once trapped inside, their victims would lose all ability to resist.

She couldn’t let Mo Jinghong take this risk with her. “Seventh Senior Brother, let’s go back.”

Mo Jinghong’s gaze flickered. “Don’t worry. The Concealment Talisman was drawn by Master. As long as we don’t reveal ourselves, he won’t notice us.”

Feng Wanzhuo still hesitated. Wherever Su Yanran went, trouble followed.

During the sect assembly, she had avoided Su Yanran at every turn, yet still ended up entangled with her.

Just as Feng Wanzhuo wavered, Su Yanran bumped into an elderly man.

Feng Wanzhuo’s eyes sharpened—there, on the old man’s right hand, was indeed a faint, almost imperceptible red line.