Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 23

Su Yanran thought it over carefully before speaking, “Give me back the ring. This deal is off.”

The black-clad man returned the ring to her.

Su Yanran stood up and walked toward the door. Just as she was about to open it, the man’s hoarse voice rang out, “The divine contract on that ring—I doubt anyone but us can remove it.”

Her footsteps faltered slightly.

The man spoke again, “Anyone else who dares touch this ring will suffer the backlash of its curse.”

“What exactly do you want?” Su Yanran sensed that the man had an ulterior motive, which was why he kept opposing her.

The black-clad man’s sharp, hawk-like eyes gleamed coldly. “Just answer one question: Where is the owner of this ring buried?”

A flicker of terror flashed in Su Yanran’s downcast eyes. Does he know the ring’s original owner?

Otherwise, why would he keep pressing for answers? She suppressed her fear with effort. “How would I know where they’re buried? It’s not like I killed them.”

Unbeknownst to her, her voice trembled slightly.

She reached for the door, only to find it wouldn’t budge.

Panic surged through her, her face turning deathly pale. She didn’t dare turn around, afraid the man would notice her unease.

“Ah, my mistake.” The man’s voice was icy, and the door swung open with a creak.

Su Yanran broke out in a cold sweat but forced herself to walk out calmly.

Bang!

The door slammed shut behind her.

She clutched the doorframe, gasping for air as if she had narrowly escaped death.

Su Yanran believed her quick thinking had saved her, but Feng Qingran, who had witnessed everything, knew it was the Black Market’s rules that had spared her.

The spatial ring in Su Yanran’s possession was clearly ill-gotten—likely stolen after murder.

Feng Qingran rested her chin on her hand, frowning. Something didn’t add up. Yuan Bao, blinking its adorably round eyes, asked, “Master, what’s bothering you?”

“You little rascal, reading my mind again!” Feng Qingran tapped Yuan Bao’s head lightly with her jade-like finger.

“Master, you were the one who shared your consciousness with me so you could spy,” Yuan Bao said innocently.

Feng Qingran cut off the mental link, still puzzled. “A treasure like a spatial ring would only belong to a peak-level expert. How did Su Yanran, a mere third-level Qi Refiner, manage to kill someone and steal it?”

Yuan Bao fluttered its tiny wings. “Are spatial rings really that rare? Then why does everyone in Lingyun Sect have one?”

Feng Qingran: “…”

Exhausting.

No more talking.

Just then—

Knock, knock, knock!

“Come in,” Feng Qingran composed herself.

The black-clad man from earlier entered and took a seat across from her, cutting straight to the chase. “Who do you want dead?”

Recognizing him as the same man from Su Yanran’s room, Feng Qingran remained unfazed. She placed a portrait on the table—a gaunt, skeletal boy.

The man glanced at it, noting the vacant look in the boy’s eyes. “He’s an idiot?”

“For now.”

“We won’t take this job.” His voice rasped.

“Then have someone monitor him. Report his every move every two weeks.” Feng Qingran handed him a slip of paper with two addresses.

The man took it. “For how long?”

After a brief pause, she replied, “A year.”

“Ten thousand low-grade spirit stones.”

Feng Qingran shook her head. “I need a Nascent Soul cultivator to watch him.”

The man’s eyes darkened. Sending a Nascent Soul expert to spy on a fool was an insult to their dignity. Even if Feng Qingran could afford it, no self-respecting powerhouse would agree.

Is this girl out of her mind?

And that pale-yellow brocade robe of hers… why did it look familiar?

Unbeknownst to Feng Qingran, her Seven-Colored Mystic Robe had inadvertently helped her yet again.

“Please leave. This deal is impossible.” The man gestured politely toward the door.

“Why?” Feng Qingran’s almond-shaped eyes sparkled with curiosity. Why does he sound angry?

“Are you here to mock us? That’s a mortal village, filled with ordinary people. You expect a Nascent Soul expert to waste their time watching an idiot there?” His voice carried a hint of irritation.

Feng Qingran wanted to say: That “idiot” is about to be possessed and become the ruthless Demon Emperor who slaughters without mercy.

Sending a Qi Refiner would be useless!

But she knew if she said that, he’d think she was insane.

“So you’re certain no Nascent Soul would go to such a place?” Her eyes gleamed with innocence.

“Powerhouses have their pride and principles.” The man’s masked face held a trace of arrogance.

Feng Qingran nodded, smiling sweetly. “True. A Nascent Soul expert is revered wherever they go. They’d never lack spirit stones, elixirs, or resources.”

The man nodded unconsciously—Nascent Soul cultivators held exalted status in any faction.

Feng Qingran sighed dramatically. “What a shame. I guess I’ll have to save the Spirit Origin Fruits my senior brother gave me for later.”

She stood up, feigning disappointment, and turned to leave.

But the man suddenly shot to his feet.

“Wait!”