Haven't Been a Senior Sister for Many Years - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Woof Woof

In the end, the little puppy stayed.

It wagged its tail and sat at the bottom of the steps, listening as Leng Junzhu counted rules on her fingers. Unfortunately, the puppy was only a few months old and didn’t understand a word she was saying—it thought she was just playing.

When Leng Junzhu sternly said, “You’re not allowed to lick her fingers,” the pup barked twice, then happily ran in circles around her. It finished by rubbing its fluffy head against her leg, and as if that wasn’t enough, it even tried licking her outstretched fingers with its wet tongue.

Leng Junzhu: “!?”

She hadn’t expected that the bold little thing would break the rules the moment she finished laying them out—and it even looked like it was getting ready to jump onto her!

Shocked and furious, she raised her hand to smack it, intending to send it off to reincarnation—perhaps it would learn its lesson on the road to the underworld and not make the same mistake in its next life.

Before the crime could happen, Chu Zhiqin—who had been watching the commotion—quickly stepped in, scooping up the angry Leng Junzhu and soothing her. “It’s just a child; it doesn’t know any better. Let’s teach it a few more days and see.”

“Let me go! I’ll teach this beast a lesson today!” Leng Junzhu struggled to get down, but Chu Zhiqin’s strength was no longer something she could resist. Failing to escape, she pinched Chu Zhiqin’s cheeks and pulled them outward. “This is all your fault! Using this ridiculous identity has only brought unnecessary trouble!”

Chu Zhiqin thought to herself, How unreasonable! It was clearly her idea to become a little child!

Needing to be carried when tired, throwing tantrums when displeased—she was a little demon king, tailor-made to torment Chu Zhiqin. And now she was blaming Chu Zhiqin for everything? How unfair.

But what could she do? She spoiled her into this. One was willing to spoil, the other to be spoiled.

“My fault, then. So don’t take it out on the puppy, alright?” Chu Zhiqin mumbled through pulled cheeks. Leng Junzhu, still angry, suddenly burst into laughter—but when she realized Chu Zhiqin was still defending the dog, her mood soured again.

“Why are you always taking that beast’s side?”

“It’s only in this mess because of me. Naturally, I have to protect it a little. Besides, it really doesn’t understand. Why be so angry?”

“I’m going out for a while. Be good and stay here, alright?”

“And what if I say no? Tsk. If you’re going, then go. Don’t stand there nagging—so annoying.”

“…”

“Get along, will you? I’d like to see a live puppy when I return.”

“Heh, don’t worry. When you’re back, there’ll be dog meat hot pot waiting.”

Chu Zhiqin shook her head helplessly. My senior sister really did grow more childish after becoming little. But—

Even though she said she’d skin the dog and cook it, the spark of delight and curiosity in her eyes wasn’t fake.

Since Chu Zhiqin brought her back, she rarely saw her so relaxed. Those cold, guarded eyes now shone like newly unearthed spring water—clear, cold, and full of life.

Chu Zhiqin relished it.

“I’m leaving. Breakfast is on the table. Finish it, and I’ll try to be back before lunch.”

“Got it, got it,” Leng Junzhu waved her off carelessly, focused on scolding the unruly puppy.

With a soft laugh, Chu Zhiqin turned and left the small courtyard.

The alley was quiet. A cool, pleasant morning breeze brushed by, and she finally relaxed, letting her body soak in the stillness.

Before long, the alley gave way to the bustling morning market. Vendors shouted their wares, restaurants overflowed with patrons, and waiters darted about in the early spring chill, drenched in sweat.

She had to thank the recent influx of cultivators into Qihe Town—thanks to them, the sleepy town was flourishing. But danger crept in along with the vitality.

Blessing and curse are two sides of the same coin.

Walking casually through the crowd, Chu Zhiqin’s plain, refined looks helped her blend in. She occasionally stopped by a stall to buy trinkets or snacks, but her leisurely stroll was actually a calculated route toward a quiet part of town.

Eventually, she stopped before a house and knocked on the door.

Moments later, a maid in a jade-green dress opened it. “Miss, may I help you?”

“Please tell your master an old acquaintance from Qishan has come to visit.”

“Of course. Please wait a moment.” The maid bowed and shut the door again.

Chu Zhiqin began silently counting ants. By the time she reached the 330th one, the door opened once more. The same maid said, “Please, come with me.”

Inside, the modest courtyard hid a world of wonders.

Stone pillars towered, a lake sparkled, and bamboo and pine complemented each other. Red and white koi swam gracefully through emerald waters.

Following a pebble path, she circled a rock formation, passed through a covered walkway, and arrived at a secluded garden.

“Please.” The maid stepped aside, gesturing for Chu Zhiqin to enter.

She nodded and walked in alone.

Whether through magic or clever cultivation, the courtyard was full of blooming peonies, azaleas, and crabapple blossoms, all flowering out of season. The air was filled with rich, sweet fragrance.

A few steps ahead stood a woman in a lilac embroidered robe, watering flowers. Hearing Chu Zhiqin’s steps, she turned.

“I wondered who it might be. So it’s you.”

The woman was stunning—arched brows, pearl-white teeth, and rosy lips without any makeup.

She recognized Chu Zhiqin just from the sound of her footsteps.

“Wei Qinghe, I need your help,” Chu Zhiqin said bluntly.

Wei Qinghe sighed. “Still as direct as ever. Come inside.”

They didn’t bother with pleasantries—old friends like them didn’t need to. Once seated and a pot of tea brewed, they got straight to the point.

“I need to know the current state of the Nine Provinces.”

No one knew where Wei Qinghe came from. She appeared in Qihe Town one day, and although she kept to herself, she seemed to know everything—from the heavens above to the earth below. News from all across the Nine Provinces passed through her.

It was pure luck that Chu Zhiqin became friends with her. So when Linglong suggested she go to Qihe Town, she immediately thought of Wei Qinghe.

She didn’t disappoint. Pouring tea, she began relaying the latest power shifts and movements across the land.

She started, naturally, with Chu Zhiqin’s main concern—the Sword Pavilion.

“Since Xuanqing went into seclusion, the disciples outside were recalled by compass message. Those who couldn’t return went into hiding. So far, no deaths among Sword Pavilion disciples have been reported.”

“Waves of cultivators have gathered outside their gates, demanding answers, one after another.”

“As for the other sects—those with old grudges have made trouble, but the rest are still watching, not openly making a move.”

“And those chasing you? They’re mostly rogue cultivators and spoiled young heirs. Why bother hiding from them?”

In other words, they weren’t worth worrying about.

Chu Zhiqin sipped her tea—it was rich and aromatic, one of the finest.

She didn’t strike because she had her reasons.

“What else?”

“The Demon Lord was captured, but strangely, his subordinates have made no move—as if nothing happened. I don’t want to speculate too much, but I suspect they’re planning something.”

“I see.”

She had her suspicions but didn’t want to acknowledge them. She let Leng Junzhu act as she pleased.

So long as she was around, she’d keep her safe.

Wei Qinghe saw this and said no more. She had said all she needed to. The rest wasn’t her business.

“Oh, one more thing—I almost forgot.”

“Liu Rushuang severely injured a secret realm’s flood dragon and escaped the Sword Pavilion. Be careful.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ve become awfully polite after all these years. It’s unsettling.”

That teasing did less to affect Chu Zhiqin than the wind from the alley this morning.

When the tea was finished, Chu Zhiqin said goodbye.

“I’ll be going now.”

“Next time, come sit and have tea again.”

“I will.”

The tea on the table hadn’t even cooled when Wei Qinghe noticed something left behind on the chair: a small pouch.

Inside were seeds—lots of them.

After parting ways, Chu Zhiqin carried her purchases back home.

Before even entering, she could already hear a child’s scolding and the dog’s barking inside.

“You stupid mutt, get lost! Don’t think I won’t hit you!”

“Woof woof!”

Then came a commotion. Fearing the puppy might not survive, Chu Zhiqin quickly pushed open the courtyard gate.

“I’m back. Did you finish breakfast?”

Sensing its savior had returned, the puppy ran over, wagging its tail furiously, little legs bouncing in all directions.

Without the dog to torment, Leng Junzhu grew bored. She clapped dust off her hands and stood up. “Yeah, I ate.”

“You’ve been stuck here for a few days. It’s been tough.” There was a stray leaf in her fluffy hair. Chu Zhiqin picked it off, prompting a pout from Leng Junzhu—clearly annoyed at being seen looking silly.

“I found some rare storybooks you haven’t read. You used to love these, right? Might help pass the time.”

She flipped through a few pages. “Never seen these before. Put them inside for now, I don’t feel like reading.”

“What do you want for lunch?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Alright.”

They had long stopped eating regular grains. Such food only added impurities and hindered cultivation. Everything Chu Zhiqin prepared was from spirit plants and spirit beast meat.

She set the supplies down and entered the kitchen.

The kitchen, unused for a while, was spotless, with all the jars freshly stocked with seasonings.

“Let me decide,” Leng Junzhu had said—which only made it harder.

Sighing, Chu Zhiqin accepted her fate, pulled ingredients from her storage ring, and began cooking.

Low heat to simmer, high heat to reduce.

A pot of medicinal porridge was complete.

Kids need nourishment to grow, Chu Zhiqin thought.

What she didn’t know was—her dear senior sister only looked like a child now. She didn’t need nourishment at all.

So when Leng Junzhu saw the pale, watery porridge for lunch, she regretted everything.

Worst of all, Chu Zhiqin looked at her with wide, hopeful eyes, waiting for praise.

“…Tastes fine. Let’s try something else next time.”

“Okay!” Chu Zhiqin beamed, sipping her porridge happily.

Leng Junzhu stirred her bowl aimlessly, but before long, found herself smiling too.