Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 6

The moment the divine sense infiltrated Feng Wanzhu’s body, it was instantly erased by an unknown force.

Then—

Pfft!

The leader of the Fire Cloud Sect spat out a mouthful of blood, staring at Feng Wanzhu in shock.

His divine sense—at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage—had been wiped out by someone at the fifth level of Qi Refining? There was definitely something wrong with Feng Wanzhu!

Ye Wentian, who had been locked in a standoff with Xiao Hongyu, was furious. Probing someone’s body with divine sense was extremely harmful to cultivators who had not yet reached Foundation Establishment. At best, it could affect their temperament; at worst, it could create inner demons, hindering their progress forever.

“Master, I’m fine. The divine sense was erased by someone,” Feng Wanzhu said innocently.

Relieved, Ye Wentian shielded her behind him and sneered, “A bunch of old men resorting to such tricks against a junior—how shameless!”

“I, Ye Wentian, stand tall and unyielding. I disdain underhanded methods, and my disciple is no different. If you keep harassing us, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”

“Sect Leader Ye, Sect Leader Xiao didn’t mean any harm,” Xiao Hongyu said, knowing they were in the wrong. His tone softened slightly as he brought up the hundred-year agreement. “Sect Leader Ye, do you remember your promise not to compete with us for disciples for a century?”

Ye Wentian stiffened. He had indeed sworn not to accept any disciples at the sect recruitment assembly for a hundred years.

“That’s right, Ye Wentian. You made an oath—no take-backs. It seems you and Feng Wanzhu are fated to not be master and disciple. Don’t worry, my Beast Taming Sect will take good care of her for you.” Rong Zhuofan grinned, delighted. Since he hadn’t managed to recruit Su Yanran as a disciple, he had to secure Feng Wanzhu.

The other sect leaders exchanged glances. Was the Beast Taming Sect missing the point?

Then—

Feng Wanzhu whispered, “Master, I was eliminated. They didn’t want me. You didn’t steal me from them.”

“Exactly, little disciple. Don’t be sad. Their rejection just proves their poor judgment.” Ye Wentian patted her head and continued, “Having known them for centuries, I’ve long noticed they prefer recruiting mediocre disciples—just to flaunt their own superiority.”

He turned back to Xiao Hongyu. “The disciple you’re looking for is inside. Stop wasting my time, or else—behold that mountain!”

BOOM!

With a single swing of his sword, Ye Wentian unleashed a blade aura that instantly reduced a distant mountain to dust.

Xiao Hongyu’s pupils contracted. Saint-level sword intent?! He had assumed that together, they could stand against Ye Wentian, but now he realized how wrong he was.

This wasn’t the time for a direct confrontation. Feng Wanzhu would take years to grow strong anyway—they could investigate her later.

With that thought, Xiao Hongyu stepped aside.

“Chixiao, rise.” Ye Wentian formed a hand seal, and the sword expanded several times in size. He motioned for Feng Wanzhu to board first before joining her.

As she stepped onto Chixiao, Feng Wanzhu felt distracted. Why does that name sound familiar?

Su Yanran watched Feng Wanzhu leave with resentment. Not only had she failed to obtain the jade bracelet, but Feng Wanzhu had stolen all the attention. Just wait until the next sect competition in three years—I’ll make her hand it over.

Even if Feng Wanzhu had bound the bracelet by then, Su Yanran would erase its imprint and claim it for herself!

Lingyun Sect, Mozhu Peak.

The mountain was shrouded in immortal mist, its scenery serene and enchanting.

A man with arched brows and peach-blossom eyes glanced at his two companions and asked, “Eldest Senior Brother, I heard we’re getting a junior sister?”

“Mn.” Liu Canglan nodded slightly, his lips as warm as jade, a fleeting smile in his eyes.

“That old man swore not to recruit at the sect assembly for a hundred years, yet he couldn’t even last seventy. I’d love to see the other sect leaders’ faces right now.” Mu Qianjue fanned himself lazily, thoroughly amused.

“Qianjue, behave yourself when our junior sister arrives,” Liu Canglan reminded gently. “Though, with Master recruiting so suddenly, I haven’t had time to prepare a welcome gift.”

Mu Qianjue waved a hand. “Eldest Senior Brother, you’re loaded—just give her any random artifact. I’m more curious what Seventh Junior Brother will offer.”

Both turned to the youth beside them. The young man set down his teacup with an air of innate nobility, his every movement effortless and graceful.

Meanwhile, at the entrance of Lingyun Sect.

“Little disciple, this is our sect’s gate. Remember it well.”

Feng Wanzhu looked down and saw a wooden fence forming a barrier, along with a gate that creaked at the slightest breeze. Her lips twitched. Is the sect this poor?

Before she could ask, Ye Wentian guided his sword through a thin mist, crossing into the sect’s territory.

The moment they entered, Feng Wanzhu felt as if she had been submerged in a pool of spiritual energy. The density here was dozens of times higher than outside—cultivation here would be exponentially faster.

So the sect isn’t poor—they just spend all their spirit stones on what matters.

“I’ll introduce you to your senior brothers and sisters first, then take you to the Tenth Peak.” Ye Wentian landed on a mountain, scanned it with his divine sense, and—finding no one—moved on to the next.

Feng Wanzhu glanced back at the empty peak and hesitantly asked, “Master, why are there no buildings on the mountain?”

“Everyone lives in caves.” Then his tone shifted, turning grave. “Lingyun Sect has no constructed dwellings. If you ever see any within our borders, do not enter. Immediately seek out your Seventh Senior Brother, Mo Jinghong.”