Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 17

“You saved me?” The old man’s voice was still weak, but his complexion had improved significantly.

“No, she did.” Mo Jinghong’s tone was indifferent.

The old man sat up, and Feng Qingran helped him to his feet. Su Yanran’s attack hadn’t been fatal—his collapse had been due to the poison flaring up.

The old man took a step back and bowed deeply, offering the highest form of gratitude. “Thank you, young lady, for saving my life. Please tell me where you reside so I may repay you properly.”

“No need for ‘another day.’ Let’s settle it today.” Before he could react, Feng Qingran continued, “Just answer a few questions—that’ll be repayment enough.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you take coagulants beforehand?”

The old man sighed. “I was poisoned with Soul-Devouring Toxin. When it flares, my blood vessels rupture violently, spraying blood everywhere. I didn’t want to harm bystanders.”

Feng Qingran nodded and shot Mo Jinghong a look—your turn.

Mo Jinghong merely smiled, eyes glinting with amusement.

Feng Qingran resisted the urge to roll her eyes. We have chemistry… just not enough.

“Then… if you knew the poison would act up, why not stay home?” She phrased it carefully, avoiding direct mention of his identity.

“Ah, that’s… a long story.” The old man trailed off, lost in thought.

Feng Qingran waited politely before suggesting, “You’ve just recovered. Standing too long isn’t good. Shall we continue at an inn?”

“Agreed.”

…..

Cloudspire Inn, Private Room

Once seated, Mo Jinghong set up a silencing barrier.

The old man began his tale. “I am Luo Xiucheng, Master of Kunxuan Pavilion. The Forgejade Pavilion in this city is our sworn enemy, so I rarely linger in one place.”

Feng Qingran feigned surprise. “Master Luo! An honor.”

Mo Jinghong watched her performance with amusement, pouring tea for them both.

“Titles mean little at my age,” Luo Xiucheng chuckled.

“Then why come to Forgemoon City?”

“Three months ago, our pavilion received a peculiar request—for a Blue Star Herb.”

“It’s a celestial-grade spirit herb, found only in a deadly secret realm. I led a team to retrieve it, battling a seventh-tier serpent to claim it. But after returning, my cultivation began deteriorating, my body aging rapidly. No healer could diagnose it.”

“Then an astrologer told me my cure lay here—a girl of eleven or twelve. I waited half a month before spotting one who fit… only to nearly die for my mistake.”

“Thanks to you both, I’ve cheated death.”

Feng Qingran’s eyes narrowed. Three months ago—when Su Yanran joined the Heavenly Sword Sect.

Forgemoon City was the closest major settlement.

They’d wandered for days without encountering Luo Xiucheng, yet Su Yanran drew him out immediately.

None of this is coincidence. Someone’s pulling strings.

“Do you recall the astrologer’s appearance?” Mo Jinghong asked.

“Coarse robes, his face was…” Luo Xiucheng frowned, struggling. “I… can’t remember. It’s as if I never met him.”

“Don’t force it,” Mo Jinghong said, refilling his cup. “Astrologers who reveal fate often erase memories to avoid backlash.”

Luo Xiucheng drank deeply—then froze.

His stagnant cultivation, stuck at peak Nascent Soul for a millennium, had shifted.

His master once said he lacked enlightenment, doomed to never advance…

Unless he drank Ruomu Tea.

“This tea… is extraordinary.” Trembling, he produced a violet-gold token. “Such grace demands repayment. With this, all Kunxuan Pavilion’s resources are yours.”

Mo Jinghong ignored the token, pouring another cup instead. “The tea is indeed fine. But thank her—without my junior sister, I wouldn’t have intervened.”

“Then, young lady, please accept this.”

Feng Qingran stared. A Pavilion Master’s Token?!

One cup of tea for control of an entire faction?!

“Junior Sister,” Mo Jinghong mused, “it’d be rude to refuse.”

She took it, mind reeling. This thing could start wars if auctioned.

(Then again… better not test that theory.)

After Luo Xiucheng departed, Feng Qingran slumped into her seat.

“Senior Brother… what if you knew how everything would unfold, but still couldn’t change it?”

Mo Jinghong stored the teaware and stood.

“Come with me.”