Haven't Been a Senior Sister for Many Years - Chapter 11
Chapter 11: The Flood Dragon
Whether it was a hundred years ago or a hundred years in the future, Chu Zhiqin was always the first to lower her head and admit defeat.
Leng Junzhu only had to slightly furrow her brows and softly cry out in pain, and the mad, irrational Chu Zhiqin would instantly regain clarity in her eyes and hurriedly let go, apologizing profusely.
How boring.
Leng Junzhu pouted where Chu Zhiqin couldn’t see.
A few days ago, she had gained a fragment of memory from the Qing Shuang sword—one that did not belong to her.
Memories that spanned a century gave her a glimpse of the answers she had long searched for, but it still wasn’t enough. It still couldn’t explain the inexplicable emotions and deep pain she felt toward Chu Zhiqin.
In order to find those answers, she decided to stay by Chu Zhiqin’s side. Everything else was just a way to pass the time.
Leng Junzhu gently stroked Chu Zhiqin’s face. The face that haunted her dreams had become unfamiliar due to a face-altering pill, yet those round, star-like eyes still dazzled and stirred her soul.
How much longer could this person make her stay?
“Weren’t you going to take me to the central region? Why haven’t we left yet?” Leng Junzhu decided to let Chu Zhiqin off the hook this time.
“Sure!” Chu Zhiqin lit up with joy and, before Leng Junzhu could react, scooped her up by the waist.
Leng Junzhu: “?”
Chu Zhiqin looked innocently at her. “We might not be allowed to use flying swords here, but lightness skill is still fair game.”
Leng Junzhu: “…”
Leng Junzhu: “Then hold me tight. If you drop me, I’ll hold you accountable.”
Chu Zhiqin: “Of course.”
Her embrace was warm and steady, laced with a subtle scent of osmanthus. Leng Junzhu could hear the strong, rhythmic beating of her heart beside her ear, again and again.
If Leng Junzhu weren’t from the demon realm, just a regular woman, maybe leaning on this person like this and being her confidante wouldn’t be so bad.
But unfortunately, she wasn’t.
The scenery flew past quickly. Along the way, Leng Junzhu remained silent, as did Chu Zhiqin.
Occasionally, if Leng Junzhu spotted some rare spiritual herb or treasure, she’d speak up, asking Chu Zhiqin to retrieve it for her.
And Chu Zhiqin never refused such small requests.
As a sword sect elder, her token granted her access to more items from the secret realm than regular disciples. She could take ten treasures of any grade, compared to the usual three.
What’s more, she had two such tokens.
Whatever Leng Junzhu took a liking to, Chu Zhiqin would retrieve without hesitation.
A journey that should have taken two hours stretched to nearly three.
A massive lake lay nestled in a deep green forest, with waterfalls crashing down and mist rising several stories high.
The lake was bottomless, and not a single spirit beast from the forest dared cross its bounds to drink or play.
The central region was completely deserted.
Chu Zhiqin gently put Leng Junzhu down. Once she was steady, Chu Zhiqin withdrew her hand from her waist and led her to the lake’s edge.
“This is the central region? Doesn’t seem like much.” Leng Junzhu looked around, disappointed. “I thought it’d be something mysterious. It’s just a big puddle.”
Chu Zhiqin smiled but said nothing. She could already imagine the reaction of what lay within the lake.
Sure enough, the moment Leng Junzhu spoke, the calm surface erupted in waves a hundred feet high.
“Where did this little brat come from, talking smack about my territory?” A massive figure burst through the water—a tiger-headed, fish-bodied creature with a serpent’s tail. It looked like a giant lizard. Its roar was like a bull’s, shaking the air.
A flood dragon.
Looking at its head, there were two bulges—hints of an imminent transformation into a true dragon.
Leng Junzhu raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s just a baby flood dragon.”
The creature exhaled, and its dragon breath tore trees from their roots, sending them flying.
But Leng Junzhu and Chu Zhiqin stood firm in the wind, unaffected.
The flood dragon wasn’t angry. “You little snake dare mock me? Human, what is it you want this time?”
Its eyes—bulbous as lanterns—moved toward Chu Zhiqin. “Hmm? Been a while. You’ve changed faces.”
Chu Zhiqin bowed respectfully. “To stay hidden, I took a face-altering pill.”
“I’ve come this time to satisfy a friend’s curiosity and also to ask you for a few nice things.”
The flood dragon snorted. “Treating me like some favor bank now, are you? Fine, wait here.” It dove back into the water.
After it left, Leng Junzhu asked, “You know that flood dragon?”
Chu Zhiqin nodded.
About fifty years ago, she had come to the secret realm in search of a rare spiritual herb. Just as she found it by the lake, the surface surged and a huge beast head appeared.
Flood dragon: “This doesn’t belong to you, human.”
Chu Zhiqin drew her sword: “What if I insist?”
Flood dragon: “Then let’s see if you’ve got the skills to take it.”
A fierce aerial battle broke out—blades, sword light, dragon breath, and water blasts.
The skies darkened, thunder crackled through clouds, and all the spirit beasts—low-level or enlightened—trembled under the terrifying spiritual pressure.
The battle lasted three full days and nights, ending in a draw.
Chu Zhiqin was disheveled and injured.
The flood dragon didn’t fare any better, its iron-like scales slashed open, tailbone aching from a solid kick.
Flood dragon: “Why do you want the Nine-Star Illusion Grass?”
Chu Zhiqin: “I need it.”
Flood dragon: “Then beat me for it!”
So they fought again, shaking the entire realm.
In the end, the flood dragon lost, a sword pointed at its vital point.
Chu Zhiqin: “I only want what I came for, not your life.”
Flood dragon: “I lost. Take it.”
“Thank you.”
Neither of them expected their battle would turn into a friendship.
Chu Zhiqin told Leng Junzhu the full story.
Leng Junzhu was speechless. She hadn’t expected that kind of friendship origin.
“It’s just giving us random stuff? What if I don’t like it?”
“Just wait and see.”
Ripples spread across the lake again as the flood dragon’s huge head emerged.
It opened its mouth, releasing a stench, and three glowing orbs floated out, landing in Chu Zhiqin’s hand.
“For the little snake—her soul is damaged. This can nourish and restore it.”
“Thank you.”
“No need for thanks. But other cultivators are nearby. If you don’t want to be found, leave quickly.”
“Understood.”
“Let’s catch up properly next time.”
“We will. That’s a promise.”
With that, the flood dragon disappeared beneath the surface.
“What did it mean, my soul is damaged?” The words stirred something in Leng Junzhu. A few months ago, she would’ve laughed and cursed anyone who said such a thing.
But after what she saw from the Qing Shuang sword and the feelings she had for Chu Zhiqin, she couldn’t help but wonder—had she really lost part of her soul?
Chu Zhiqin shook her head. “Let’s leave first. Whether you take it or not is up to you.”
Leng Junzhu smirked. “What, scared of those other cultivators?”
Chu Zhiqin sighed. “No. But they’re old comrades—I’d rather avoid unnecessary conflict.”
Leng Junzhu turned away silently.
After spending so much time together, Chu Zhiqin understood: this was her silent way of agreeing.
She once again picked up Leng Junzhu and left the central region.
Meanwhile, westward—
Ding Ying and her group, en route, sensed something and looked back.
“Senior sister…” Ye Ling’er tugged Lin Hongxue’s sleeve and looked at Ding Ying nervously. “Could it be those two?”
Ding Ying hesitated, then shook her head. “Hard to say. But even if it is, it’s none of our business. We already warned them not to go.”
“But—”
Ye Ling’er was cut off by Lin Hongxue. “Enough. What senior sister said makes sense. And we’re not strong enough to meddle. If something happened, the elders will act.”
Ye Ling’er nodded. “I understand.”
Lin Hongxue knew Ye Ling’er was still uneasy. But with their current strength, rebellion was not an option.
She secretly vowed to grow stronger.
“Let’s hurry. The forest gets dangerous at night. And with the disturbance in the central region, the beasts might be agitated. Don’t attack unless absolutely necessary,” Ding Ying said, looking at the darkening sky.
Shangguan Yan nodded. “Understood.”
Back at the waiting point, elders Chu Yu and Liu Rushuang opened their eyes the moment the flood dragon appeared.
They exchanged a glance, both clearly shocked.
“Wasn’t it said that the flood dragon went into slumber fifty years ago? Why’s it awake now?” Chu Yu looked toward the central region with concern. “Let’s hope those girls are okay.”
Liu Rushuang said calmly, “Instead of speculating, why not see for ourselves?”
“You’re right,” Chu Yu agreed.
The two flew toward the central region. Liu Rushuang extended her spiritual sense and searched—eventually locking on a faint trace.
Despite Chu Zhiqin’s perfect disguise, it couldn’t escape Liu Rushuang’s eyes. After all, after a century of opposition, she knew Chu Zhiqin better than almost anyone.
No wonder she’d been sensing vague presences in the realm. She had thought she was just imagining things.
If not for the flood dragon’s appearance, she might never have uncovered it.
Her expression turned twisted. Chu Zhiqin, you’ve made me look long enough.
But they were too late.
By the time Chu Yu and Liu Rushuang arrived, Chu Zhiqin had already taken Leng Junzhu and left the realm, flying under the cover of night to the nearest city.
Restored to their original appearances, the two checked into a quiet inn.
“Hey,” Leng Junzhu called, awkwardly halting Chu Zhiqin as she was about to change for bed. “That medicine… I’ll take it.”
Chu Zhiqin was stunned. “Are you serious?”
Leng Junzhu snapped, “So what if I am? One more word and you’ll regret it!”
Chu Zhiqin immediately apologized. “I understand.”
She retrieved the flood dragon’s herb from her storage ring. The emerald leaves glowed softly in the dark.
Leng Junzhu took the herb, hesitated for a few moments, then shut her eyes and swallowed it.
A soft white light enveloped her body, and drowsiness overtook her. She slowly drifted to sleep.
Once she was fully unconscious, Chu Zhiqin retrieved another item—a vial containing seven drops of memory, like glowing fireflies.
Looking at Leng Junzhu’s peaceful face, Chu Zhiqin sighed.
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
One drop floated from the vial and merged gently into the space between Leng Junzhu’s brows.