Haven't Been a Senior Sister for Many Years - Chapter 20

Chapter 20:  Ten Thousand Words Update 2.0

Chu Zhiqin’s eyes sparkled, full of uncontainable curiosity and joy about the temple fair.

She didn’t remember if she had ever been to one before, nor whether she had ever strolled hand in hand with her family through the evening stalls.

But she knew this: no matter how many years passed, she would always remember this dusk ablaze like fire—how she, draped in twilight-colored robes, stood beside her senior sister at the bustling street corner. Her own face full of wonder, and her senior sister smiling indulgently.

“Let’s go. You must hold my hand tightly, okay? Don’t lose your Senior Sister,” Leng Junzhu teased, gripping Chu Zhiqin’s small, soft hand. “If you lose me, Master will definitely make you come looking!”

Chu Zhiqin nodded seriously. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight to you.”

A vendor nearby was calling out, “Candied hawthorn! Sweet and sour candied hawthorn!” Leng Junzhu pinched Chu Zhiqin’s cheek and smiled. “My little junior sister is so obedient—should we reward you with a stick of candied hawthorn?”

Chu Zhiqin didn’t know what candied hawthorn was, but since her sister said it was a reward, it must be something good. She agreed without hesitation. “Okay!”

Leng Junzhu took her hand and walked to the vendor. “Hello, one stick of hawthorn, please.”

The vendor chuckled. “Alright! This little girl is just so adorable—I’ll give her the biggest one for free!” Without waiting for a reply, he handed the largest skewer to Chu Zhiqin, ignoring her stunned expression.

“Senior Sister?” Chu Zhiqin looked up, eyes full of confusion.

Leng Junzhu quickly handed the vendor two copper coins. “Thank you for your kindness, but we’ll still pay. This is a reward from me to my junior sister—I can’t let someone else do the honors.”

The vendor didn’t insist. He took the coins, offered some auspicious words, and continued walking, hawking his goods.

Leng Junzhu gently ruffled Chu Zhiqin’s hair. “Go ahead and eat.”

“Thank you, Senior Sister~” With permission, Chu Zhiqin eagerly took a bite—the crunchy, sweet sugar shell and tart hawthorn made her squint in delight, completely unaware that her mouth was smeared with sugar.

“Is it good?” Leng Junzhu smiled as she wiped away the sugar crumbs. “Why are you eating like a little kitten?”

“It’s yummy,” Chu Zhiqin replied shyly, lowering her head. “It’s sweet… but a little sour, too.”

Leng Junzhu led her through the crowd. The usually wide and clean streets were now packed with people—some parading, some watching shows, some selling fruit and wild goods while chatting cheerfully with companions.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said.

Suddenly, loud cheers erupted from the crowd. Leng Junzhu swept the area with her divine sense and found that someone was performing acrobatics. “There’s a show ahead. Want to watch?”

“Yes, yes! I’ve never seen acrobatics before!” Chu Zhiqin’s words were muffled with half-eaten hawthorn, but Leng Junzhu understood and pulled her through the crowd to the front for a better view.

Balancing jars, sleight of hand, lion dancing—Chu Zhiqin was dazzled, unwilling to blink.

Leng Junzhu glanced at her little junior sister.

This girl, who had lost her memories, was innocent and lively—like sunlight falling on fresh winter snow: pure, radiant, and impossible not to soften your heart.

Back then, Leng Junzhu had mourned the loss of Chu Zhiqin’s past—the doting parents, sisters, the precious memories of learning to walk and speak…

But now, she was thankful.

Thankful that Chu Zhiqin had forgotten that horrifying day, the terrible trauma. Only a scar remained—one that brought confusion and pain—but not the burden of hate.

Now, that scar could heal. And Chu Zhiqin could move forward, no longer shackled to the past—free to become the happiest, freest little bird in all the world, soaring under the open sky.

Perhaps sensing her gaze, Chu Zhiqin looked up and tugged at her sleeve. “Senior Sister, what’s wrong?”

Leng Junzhu smiled and shook her head. After the show, they played games—archery, ring toss—and later, they stood hand in hand on the lake embankment, watching fireworks across the water.

That was when Leng Junzhu made up her mind.

Rather than clinging to painful memories and staying stagnant, it was better to create a future she could shape. She believed: her little junior sister would not be defeated by hardship.

“Let’s go home,” Leng Junzhu said.

“Okay,” Chu Zhiqin replied, still reluctant for the night to end.

On the way back, Chu Zhiqin snuggled into her senior sister’s arms, chirping about her day. Her fuzzy head rubbed against Leng Junzhu’s chin, and for a moment, Leng Junzhu imagined she was carrying a playful little pup.

The little puppy murmured in a baby voice, “Senior Sister, let’s come to the fair together again next time, okay?”

“Okay,” Leng Junzhu replied softly.

…

“Senior Sister, when can I practice swordsmanship with the others?”

When Leng Junzhu found Chu Zhiqin, she was sulking on the steps. Beside her was a wooden sword—clearly carved slowly by her own hand.

“You want to train?”

“Of course! I’m a disciple of the Sword Pavilion too. How can a sword cultivator not train? Besides, I want to protect Senior Sister—I want to be strong like her!”

Her eyes sparkled with fierce determination.

Leng Junzhu fell silent.

She remembered Chu Zhiqin’s shattered meridians, repaired only with countless pills and rare herbs.

Their master had warned her: with her current condition, Chu Zhiqin should never cultivate. Her lifespan would likely be shortened by over a decade. The only reason she’d been accepted into the sect was because she had offended one of the Twelve Demon Gods—Shi Hexuan, the most vindictive and cruel of them all.

Leaving her alone would be a death sentence.

Leng Junzhu had never told Chu Zhiqin any of this. Even though the girl could walk and talk like a normal child, she had always kept her from morning training, using recovery as an excuse.

But now that excuse wasn’t holding up anymore.

Her silence made Chu Zhiqin nervous. Had she said something wrong?

“You truly want to train?” Leng Junzhu placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders, staring into her eyes. “Sword training isn’t easy. It’s grueling. I’ve seen many talented people give up halfway. Are you sure you can endure it?”

Chu Zhiqin tilted her head, puzzled. “Why are you asking that? If it wasn’t hard, would it still be called training? I’m not here for comfort!”

“If I can’t handle hardship, how can I protect you? I don’t want to hide behind you forever. I want to stand beside you. I’ll become the greatest sword cultivator in all the land—and protect you!”

“If I can’t do that, then I don’t deserve to be your junior sister!”

That spark in her eyes—those were the same eyes that once steadied Leng Junzhu’s drifting heart through fire and chaos.

She’d underestimated her little sister.

“In that case, show me your resolve,” Leng Junzhu said. “But not yet—some things must be handled first.”

Chu Zhiqin was so excited she missed that last part. “Yay! I can finally train! I’ll protect Senior Sister next time!”

Leng Junzhu laughed and tapped her nose. “I’ll be watching you. But if you quit halfway, I’m spanking your butt.”

“No! Don’t hit me!” Chu Zhiqin laughed, holding her butt and running off. “You’re a big meanie!”

Leng Junzhu chased after her, though she slowed to ensure Chu Zhiqin wouldn’t fall.

They returned home in laughter. As soon as they entered, Chu Zhiqin turned and hugged her tightly.

“Senior Sister, I promise I won’t let you down.” Her little face was buried in Leng Junzhu’s chest, but Leng Junzhu could tell—she was smiling through tears.

“Okay.” She gently patted her head.

…

Not long after, on a morning just after the snow had fallen, Chu Zhiqin came running with a few fresh plum blossoms.

She was told she would be accompanying her senior sister on a journey.

“Yinxia Valley? What’s that? Is it far?”

“Not too far. We can fly there in a few days.”

“Okay, I’ll go pack!”

“Alright.”

The dream quickly returned to the place Leng Junzhu had dreamt of before. The familiar scene nearly woke her—but it soon stabilized.

The dream continued.

“You’re really going to do this?” they had arrived at Yinxia Valley. The flower spirit glanced at Chu Zhiqin playing outside, chasing butterflies. She turned to Leng Junzhu. “Paying such a steep price, just to help someone else cultivate—what are you, a saint?”

By now, Leng Junzhu had known the flower spirit for fifty years. She knew the spirit wasn’t angry at Chu Zhiqin, only upset for her sake.

“I can’t just leave her,” she sighed. “You’re soft-hearted. As long as I meet the valley’s requirements, you’ll help—won’t you?”

The flower spirit paced angrily. Her temper had mellowed since becoming the valley’s master—but this situation had cracked her resolve.

“Is that a price you can afford? You think you’re worth just a few coins?!”

“If you hadn’t saved my life back then, and if we weren’t so close—I’d never agree to this.”

But Leng Junzhu saw hope in those words. She smiled, her eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

“Just this once,” the flower spirit relented.

“Thank you, Huā Líng.”

“Don’t thank me yet. My services don’t come cheap. Ugh, you really don’t know how valuable I am!”

“Go bring your junior sister in. First, we’ll purge the murky qi in her body. Then, she’ll bathe in medicinal herbs to restore her meridians. Once they’re strong enough to withstand spiritual energy, we’ll build an inner micro-circulation using elemental treasures.”

“If you can’t pay, you’ll work here to make up for it.”

“Don’t worry—you’ll be satisfied.”

“Hmph, you’d better be.”

And so Leng Junzhu and Chu Zhiqin stayed in Yinxia Valley.

One medicinal bath after another was sent into the small building. Bit by bit, Chu Zhiqin’s frail body grew stronger—soon, she was no different from a normal girl.

“Senior Sister, why do I have to bathe in this? Is it hard to make? Am I troubling you?”

That night, Chu Zhiqin grabbed her sister’s sleeve before she could leave.

Leng Junzhu knelt down and met her eyes. “Not at all. Huā Líng owed me a favor for saving her life. This is her way of repaying me. Don’t worry—just focus on healing.”

“Is this why I couldn’t train before? Because I was sick? Why was I sick?”

“You’re right. Sick people can’t train,” Leng Junzhu said softly. “As for why… I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“How old?”

“Hmm… About as old as I am now.”

“That’s forever! Can’t you tell me earlier?”

“Nope! Now go to sleep. We’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Senior Sister.”

“Goodnight.”

As the door closed, the room dimmed.

Exhausted from the baths, Chu Zhiqin fell asleep quickly. In her dreams, she kept chasing her senior sister’s shadow—reaching out, but never quite able to grab her hand.

Senior Sister…