Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 16

After bumping into the old man, Su Yanran shoved a low-grade spirit stone into his hand and turned to leave.

The old man stared at the stone, his expressionless face flickering with surprise. He grabbed Su Yanran’s shoulder. “What’s the meaning of this, little girl?”

Before he could say more, Su Yanran cut in sharply, “One not enough? Fine, here’s five more. Now stop bothering me.”

Her eyes burned with impatience. First, she had to endure Sheng Shike’s arrogance at the Heavenly Sword Sect, and now this nuisance outside?

What rotten luck!

“Young lady, instead of apologizing for bumping into me, you throw spirit stones as an insult?” The old man’s grip tightened slightly.

Su Yanran’s face darkened. This old fool doesn’t know his place. “You’re the one who suddenly rushed out and crashed into me.”

She scrutinized him—no trace of spiritual energy, shabby clothes—and her eyes glinted with disdain. Clearly, he was just looking for trouble.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed a mid-grade spirit stone at his feet and sneered, “Want more? Then pick it up yourself.”

“Arrogant brat!” The old man chuckled dryly, his gnarled fingers tightening.

A sharp pain shot through Su Yanran’s shoulder.

Fury burned in her chest. She retaliated instantly, conjuring an ice spike aimed straight for the old man’s heart.

A smug smile curled her lips. If he won’t move, he’ll pay the price!

It’s his fault for provoking me. The karma’s on him, not me.

“What a vicious little thing,” the old man murmured, his voice turning icy as he caught the spike midair.

Su Yanran’s heart skipped a beat. A cultivator? Only another cultivator could neutralize her attack.

Wary now, she studied him again—cloudy eyes, hunched back, feeble aura. A man on the brink of death.

True high-level experts, even at death’s door, carried an imposing presence. This withered old man was no powerhouse.

Probably between Qi Refinement Level 3 and Golden Core. Weak enough to handle… but does he have backers?

Letting him live might bring trouble.

Her gaze darted down the street—no witnesses, the relentless clang of hammers drowning out noise.

A cold glint flashed in her eyes. Best to eliminate the risk.

The old man read her murderous intent and sighed. “Too bloodthirsty. You’re not the one I seek.”

At the words “too bloodthirsty,” Su Yanran paled, her hand flying to her storage pouch.

The old man shook his head and turned away.

Su Yanran stared at his retreating back, eyes sharp as daggers. Another ice spike materialized in her palm, aimed at his spine.

No loose ends. No threats left alive.

Thunk!

The spike pierced his heart—then dissolved into water, mingling with his blood.

Thud.

The old man collapsed face-first, his expression hidden.

Su Yanran’s lips curled in exhilaration. So that technique really lets me kill above my level.

Without a backward glance, she vanished into the alley.

…..

Only after the trailing Divine Transformation expert followed Su Yanran away did Feng Wanzhuo and Mo Jinghong emerge.

Feng Wanzhuo checked the old man’s pulse, brow furrowed. “Strange. His heart’s destroyed, yet he’s still clinging to life?”

They rolled him over, revealing shockingly little blood.

Mo Jinghong examined him. “High-level displacement art. At the moment of fatal danger, he shifted his heart’s position. And he took a hemostatic pill beforehand.”

“Preemptively? So he knew he’d be attacked?” Feng Wanzhuo’s expression darkened. Are we all just puppets of fate?

Reading the original novel, she’d never questioned why the Kunxuan Pavilion master appeared in Forging City.

But after transmigrating and studying The Chronicles of Qingyun, she learned the truth: the Pavilion master would never normally come here.

Qingyun Province had three major powers: Kunxuan Pavilion, Fuyu Artifact Pavilion, and Shumo Auction House.

Kunxuan’s influence lay in the north, while Forging City was southern territory—Fuyu’s domain. The two pavilions were long-standing rivals.

Why would a Pavilion master venture alone into enemy grounds?

“Little Junior Sister, if you’re curious, just ask him.” Mo Jinghong’s picturesque eyes glinted with amusement as he slipped a pill into the old man’s mouth.

Feng Wanzhuo: “…”

Cough! Cough!

The old man spat up mouthfuls of black blood. His appearance transformed before their eyes, his aura surging rapidly.

“Seventh Senior Brother, what did you give him?”

“Antidote.” Mo Jinghong’s tone was breezy.

Feng Wanzhuo’s dark, luminous eyes widened. A pre-prepared cure for seventh-grade Soul-Devouring Poison?

Seventh Senior Brother, if you’re not a transmigrator, then what are you?!

“Little Junior Sister, ask whatever you want. Mouths exist for questions, and time’s precious. Instead of guessing, focus on cultivation.”

“The stronger you grow, the easier it’ll be to get answers.”

Years later, Mo Jinghong would deeply regret those words.

Feng Wanzhuo’s lips twitched. Well, if he’s offering…

She grinned. “Then tell me, Seventh Senior Brother—why did you happen to have an antidote for Soul-Devouring Poison?”

“Refined it casually while making pills.” Mo Jinghong’s starry eyes gleamed, radiating noble ease.

“Casually refined a seventh-grade pill?!” Feng Wanzhuo nearly choked. A single seventh-grade pill could bankrupt a mid-tier clan!

No wonder Seventh Senior Brother runs Lingyun Sect.

Mo Jinghong patted her head. “Don’t feel inferior, Little Junior Sister. I won’t laugh at you.”

She swatted his hand away, pouting. “Gee, thanks.”

Just then, the old man’s eyes snapped open—sharp as a hawk’s—locking onto Feng Wanzhuo and Mo Jinghong.