Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 27

Su Yanran was stunned for a moment, her eyes lighting up with delight. So he was actually her senior brother? But why did she have no memory of a senior brother with such astonishing looks?

“Greetings, Senior Brother,” Su Yanran said softly, her cheeks flushed, looking both flustered and honored.

However, Murong Hong’s next move made her face pale—he walked directly toward Feng Qingran.

Murong Hong raised his hand and offered a stick of candied hawthorn to Feng Qingran. His voice was exceptionally pleasant. “An apology for my junior sister.”

“Consider yourself aware,” Feng Qingran said, taking the candied hawthorn and biting into it. It was slightly sweet, and the hawthorn carried faint traces of spiritual energy.

Her almond-shaped eyes brightened—it was spirit food! No wonder Murong Hong had taken so long; he must have gone out of his way to find spirit food.

Afterward, the two walked past Su Yanran without even sparing her a glance.

Su Yanran clenched her fists, her expression gradually twisting. Feng Qingran had no sect—how could she have such an extraordinarily talented senior brother? Could it be that Feng Qingran had become a rogue cultivator? If Feng Qingran was a rogue cultivator, then Murong Hong must be one too.

The excitement in Su Yanran’s eyes faded. Still, with Murong Hong around, it wouldn’t be easy to lure Feng Qingran to a secluded spot to deal with her.

She caught up to Feng Qingran and asked arrogantly, “Sister, I’m returning to the Heavenly Sword Sect. Where are you two headed?”

As she spoke, Su Yanran observed Murong Hong’s expression, but the two continued walking as if they hadn’t heard her, completely ignoring her presence.

Su Yanran felt humiliated and furious. As a disciple of a Heavenly Sword Sect elder, why should she endure repeated disrespect from Feng Qingran?

“Stop! Are you two looking down on the Heavenly Sword Sect with this attitude?” Su Yanran demanded.

Hearing this, Feng Qingran halted, and Murong Hong stopped alongside her.

Feng Qingran turned and said to Su Yanran, word by word, “I don’t look down on the Heavenly Sword Sect—I look down on you. You know exactly why you’ve been following me. The thing you want has already been bound to me.”

“You!… You bound it?!” Rage flashed in Su Yanran’s eyes as she lunged forward to grab Feng Qingran’s wrist.

Before Feng Qingran could react, Murong Hong flicked his sleeve, sending a powerful gust of wind that forced Su Yanran back several steps.

Feng Qingran was slightly puzzled. Why was Su Yanran so agitated?

Su Yanran’s face turned pale, her expression one of disbelief as she stared fixedly at Feng Qingran. “How could you bind it? It was supposed to be mine!”

“It’s mine—why shouldn’t I bind it?” Feng Qingran retorted coldly.

Su Yanran seemed to remember something, her eyes flickering as she said pitifully, “Sister, that’s not what I meant. I just really liked that jade bracelet and lost control of my emotions for a moment.”

Feng Qingran suddenly felt a sense of admiration for Su Yanran. To obtain what she desired, Su Yanran could be ruth decisive or endure humiliation without complaint. In the brutal world of cultivation, such a person indeed fit the role of a protagonist without issue.

In the original story, Su Yanran seized others’ opportunities as easily as eating a meal and never hesitated to eliminate threats root and branch. Moreover, during every tribulation, she could face the Heart-Devil Lightning with a clear conscience—a testament to her formidable mental fortitude.

While reading the original novel, Feng Qingran had only felt that the female lead’s morals were skewed, making her somewhat uncomfortable. But now, experiencing it firsthand, she felt a chill run down her spine.

Should such an enemy really be allowed to grow unchecked?

For a moment, Feng Qingran felt unsettled, her eyes gradually turning icy.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar image surfaced in her mind—a scene veiled by a thin layer of blood mist.

Through the haze, she seemed to see a woman lying in a pool of blood, her flesh torn and mutilated, her limbs severed and cast aside. The scene was utterly brutal and horrifying.

A intense hatred surged into Feng Qingran’s heart, and her eyes gradually turned blood-red.

Su Yanran met Feng Qingran’s crimson eyes and, in a mix of fear and excitement, shouted, “She’s a demonic cultivator!”

People milling about near the city gate turned to look at Feng Qingran upon hearing Su Yanran’s words.

Someone, sensing the resentment emanating from Feng Qingran, drew a sword and thrust it toward her, yelling, “Demonic cultivator, pay with your life!”

Murong Hong’s dark eyes turned cold. With a flick of his sleeve, the attacker was sent flying, crashing against the city wall, vomiting blood, and falling unconscious.

The onlookers grew even more terrified, drawing their weapons and aiming them at the pair.

One bold person shouted, “Audacious demonic cultivators! How dare you injure someone outside the city walls of Forging City? You’re seeking death!”

“Fellow cultivator, she’s already fallen to demonic cultivation. Why are you still helping her?” Su Yanran’s voice trembled, not from fear but excitement.

Even if Feng Qingran had bound her treasure, so what? She would still have to return it. Once these people killed Feng Qingran, she could reclaim the bracelet and erase Feng Qingran’s spiritual imprint from it.

Murong Hong discarded his Concealment Talisman, and the aura around him shifted instantly—becoming imposing, mysterious, and noble.

At the same time, a chilling coldness silently spread through the surroundings.