Haven't Been a Senior Sister for Many Years - Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Reunion with Liu Rushuang

That afternoon, the people of Qi River Town witnessed a sword forcefully split the torrential rain and the heavy, overcast sky in two.

The dark clouds dispersed, and the skies cleared.

In a small courtyard, the embedded magical artifact had overdrawn its power by absorbing the demonic energy in the air. Occasionally, a few wisps slipped through, but fortunately, the sparse demonic aura wasn’t lethal—at most, it would cause a minor illness for the physically weak.

Given the circumstances, Chu Zhiqin couldn’t afford to care too much. She could only try to minimize the demonic aura’s effect on Qi River Town before making her escape.

Ever since Wei Qinghe told her that Liu Rushuang hadn’t returned to Sword Pavilion to report in, but had instead vanished without a trace, Chu Zhiqin had been on edge, constantly fearing that Liu Rushuang might suddenly appear.

She wasn’t afraid of Liu Rushuang herself. What she feared was Liu Rushuang taking advantage of the chaos to harm Leng Junzhu—or, worse, sow discord in the relationship she and Leng Junzhu had only just begun to mend. It would jeopardize all of her future plans.

She couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong at such a critical moment.

Wuyou Sword sped out of Qi River Town at its fastest speed. The woman in her arms had her eyes closed, the demonic aura within her no longer leaking thanks to the power of Chu Zhiqin’s heart’s bl00d—it now lay dormant in Leng Junzhu’s body.

Outside Qi River Town, the weather was clear and warm, with swallows and paper kites flying across the sky. Despite the beautiful day, Chu Zhiqin had no mind to admire the scenery. She only wanted to find a secluded place to hide and wait for Leng Junzhu to wake before deciding on her next step.

Unfortunately, luck had never been on Chu Zhiqin’s side. She always felt that all the good fortune of her life had been used up in that one moment when she met her senior sister as a child. Though that fortune lasted only seven years, the rest of her life had been full of misfortune because of it—but she never once regretted it.

And today, her bad luck continued.

What she feared most still happened.

A sword strike came from behind her, its force so overwhelming that even with Wuyou Sword to parry it, she was sent flying, landing hard onto the mountain rocks.

“Chu Zhiqin, you really made me search far and wide,” a cold voice said.

Liu Rushuang stood atop a tall tree, white robes fluttering, sword on her back. After all these years, her attitude toward Chu Zhiqin was as biting as ever.

“If you’ve got time to hunt me down, you might as well return to the sect and face punishment. I’m sure Elder Sinan is far more eager to have a heart-to-heart with you than I am.”

Aside from her more reckless years, Chu Zhiqin had always been polite and gentle with others, rarely choosing to fight, and never speaking harshly.

Only with Liu Rushuang did she refuse to yield.

From the time their senior sister was alive, they’d never gotten along. After her death, Liu Rushuang had only found more excuses to pick fights with Chu Zhiqin.

Today, with Leng Junzhu unconscious in her arms, Chu Zhiqin could only fight one-handed—she knew she’d be at a disadvantage. Liu Rushuang was never one to hold back just because they were fellow disciples. On the contrary, she might even strike harder.

She couldn’t help but grumble inwardly at the thought.

Liu Rushuang said coldly, “No need to worry. I’m here to purge the sect of traitors and restore Sword Pavilion’s reputation.”

“You?” Chu Zhiqin sneered.

“Hah! What? Just because some trash called you ‘Sword Immortal,’ now you think you’re truly the number one sword cultivator in the Nine Provinces? Under normal circumstances, perhaps we’d be evenly matched. But today—”

Her gaze shifted from Chu Zhiqin to the person in her arms—Leng Junzhu.

“—perhaps this is the only decent thing she’s done in her entire life.”

“Don’t you dare!” Chu Zhiqin immediately understood her meaning. She tightened her hold around Leng Junzhu and barked coldly, “Don’t forget—she is our senior sister.”

“Shut up! Senior sister is dead!” Liu Rushuang suddenly lost all composure. Her face twisted with emotion, and her voice trembled with fury. “Do I need to remind you how she died? Over a hundred years ago, she died protecting you, killed by a demonic cultivator. Her body was never recovered, her soul scattered!”

“And now you dare to hold a demon in your arms and call her senior sister? Ridiculous! If senior sister were still alive, she’d be heartbroken!”

Liu Rushuang’s words rang with grief and rage, every sentence sharp and biting.

Chu Zhiqin remained silent.

She had never believed that her senior sister would die so easily in some obscure secret realm.

Alive, she wanted to see the person. Dead, she needed to see the corpse. There were no remains, no soul. For all she knew, her sister had used a life-saving artifact from their master to escape and simply encountered unexpected complications on her return journey.

Chu Zhiqin had spent her life searching for traces of her. She only wanted to bring her sister home.

And now she had finally found her—all that remained was to help her regain her memory, and then she could finally tell her all the longing and sorrow she had held for a hundred years.

She wasn’t going to let Liu Rushuang ruin that.

But Liu Rushuang believed the senior sister was dead.

Her spirit sword had shattered. Her body was lost. Her soul gone. With all that, there was no possibility she could’ve survived.

In the century since her death, Liu Rushuang had killed countless demonic cultivators. None had survived her blade, Qingming Sword.

From then on, both she and Chu Zhiqin had become figures feared by all demonic cultivators.

To Liu Rushuang, there could be no greater blasphemy than seeing a demon wearing their senior sister’s face. Worse yet, Chu Zhiqin—her supposed ally—was protecting that demon so fiercely.

She was furious. Furious that Chu Zhiqin had lost her mind, that she could be so easily deceived by a face, that she would abandon the sect’s reputation for her. Even now, Chu Zhiqin showed no remorse and continued down this path of folly.

She hoped their senior sister’s spirit could rest in peace. And if not, then fine—she’d personally send Chu Zhiqin to the afterlife to beg her forgiveness.

“Enough talk. When you see her again, be sure to kneel and repent properly.”

The Qingming Sword, like its wielder, was fierce and unrelenting—once drawn, it meant death or serious injury.

Sparks flew as their swords clashed.

Liu Rushuang’s movements were as swift as the wind. Her foot barely touched the ground before the Qingming Sword vibrated in her hand, lunging directly toward the unconscious Leng Junzhu in Chu Zhiqin’s arms.

But Chu Zhiqin’s expression remained calm. Her Wuyou Sword twisted like a swimming dragon, vibrating lightly and splitting into three sword shadows in an instant, striking toward Liu Rushuang’s upper, middle, and lower openings.

Liu Rushuang shifted her stance, moving like a phantom to dodge. Her sword style suddenly changed, a flurry of strikes raining down like a storm, the sword light dazzling as it pushed directly at Chu Zhiqin.

In this fight, Chu Zhiqin was at a clear disadvantage.

They had trained under the same master. Back then, Liu Rushuang had been assigned as Chu Zhiqin’s sparring partner.

From the beginning, Liu Rushuang had harbored hostility toward the little girl the sect had taken in. She would often use underhanded tricks during their sparring sessions.

Chu Zhiqin, ever stubborn, never complained. Instead, she practiced even harder to hold her own.

Ironically, her hard work earned praise from their senior sister—only infuriating Liu Rushuang further. And so, a vicious cycle began.

While their senior sister was alive, they kept up appearances. But after her passing, the elder bullied the younger, and the younger never submitted. If not for Chu Yu’s constant mediation, their relationship might’ve been far worse.

Years of rivalry made them intimately familiar with each other’s moves. The battle dragged on without a clear winner.

But today was different. Chu Zhiqin had to protect the woman in her arms, splitting her attention. As the fight continued, wounds of various sizes accumulated on her body.

“How about this?” Liu Rushuang said. “You kill the woman in your arms, and I’ll let you go.”

“Not a chance.”

Her clothes were now torn and bloodied. One of her arms, which she used to shield Leng Junzhu, had a deep gash down to the bone, soaking half of Leng Junzhu’s body in bl00d.

Still, she never thought of letting go.

“Then I’ll have to finish the job and purge the sect of you.”

Her attacks grew fiercer. Sword strikes fell like a downpour, every blow aiming for vital spots.

But Chu Zhiqin wasn’t so easy to take down. Despite her limited movement, her sword remained swift and fierce.

Liu Rushuang might’ve been vicious with her words, but her own body was also covered in wounds—just less visible than Chu Zhiqin’s.

Unwilling to drag the fight on, Chu Zhiqin feigned a flaw in her defense to lure Liu Rushuang in.

But Liu Rushuang, seasoned from years of combat, saw through it. She seized the moment and stabbed Chu Zhiqin in the right shoulder, bl00d pouring from the wound.

“You’ve grown weak,” she said. “Our master and senior sister used to say: once someone has a weakness, they become soft. They fear loss. They hesitate.”

“I didn’t believe it then. I thought: shouldn’t having someone to protect make you stronger?”

“But now I get it.”

“You’re no longer my equal.”

Chu Zhiqin coughed up bl00d and wiped her mouth.

“You’re right. And also wrong.”

“I haven’t grown weak—I simply never had the heart to kill you. That’s why my sword is one stroke short.”

“I don’t want our senior sister to wake up only to see the two of us locked in hatred.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Liu Rushuang’s face twisted, veins bulging, her eyes red with rage. “Senior sister is dead! Stop using that demon in your arms to manipulate me!”

Qingming Sword suddenly flared, its blade glowing with blue light. Its aura surged like a dragon, stabbing straight at Chu Zhiqin’s heart.

But Chu Zhiqin took advantage of Liu Rushuang’s emotional instability. Her footwork quickened, body darting like a phantom. Wuyou Sword swept out, its arc like a crescent moon, slicing toward Liu Rushuang’s neck.

She was a step too slow—her neck was cut open, bl00d gushing down her shoulder.

At that moment, a thick fog erupted between them. Liu Rushuang was momentarily blinded. When she released her divine sense, she found it distorted, unable to navigate the mist.

Furious, she shouted, “If you’ve got the guts, don’t rely on tricks!”

A voice echoed from all directions. “Pass a message to Master for me: this unworthy disciple Chu Zhiqin will uphold her vow—she won’t bring trouble to the sect.”

Liu Rushuang couldn’t locate the voice’s source. And with the injury on her neck, she dared not move recklessly.

By the time the fog lifted, Chu Zhiqin had vanished.

Furious, Liu Rushuang struck the mountain stone where Chu Zhiqin had once stood, splitting it apart.

Next time they met, she swore she’d make Chu Zhiqin suffer every ounce of the humiliation she felt today.

After venting her anger, Liu Rushuang retrieved a pill from her storage ring and swallowed it, then applied salve to her wound.

If she hadn’t turned her head at the last second, she might’ve been beheaded right then and there.

Holding her wound, she admitted to herself—she had fallen into Chu Zhiqin’s trap again.

Once again, she had lost to her.