Haven't Been a Senior Sister for Many Years - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Senior Sister

The mountains stood tall, forests lush, birdsong echoing endlessly.

Beasts in the forest lay flat against the earth, whimpering softly.

The sound of a stream trickled through the woods, accompanied by a woman’s heavy breathing and the soft dripping of water.

By the stream just outside the forest, the Qingshuang Sword was embedded in Chu Zhiqin’s chest. Bl00d soaked half her torso, and the searing pain radiating from the wound made her breathing labored, forcing whimpers past her lips. Unswallowed bl00d trickled from the corner of her mouth, staining the earth beneath her feet a deep, dark red.

Chu Zhiqin said nothing, only looked at Leng Junzhu before her with mournful eyes — eyes full of sorrow, not accusation.

She should have known.

All the way here — from day and night in Qihezhen to the intimate care after her injury — everything Leng Junzhu had done was a calculated illusion meant to mislead her.

And yet, she’d naively believed it was real. That her change in behavior had come from regaining the memories of her former self, her “senior sister.” She thought the memories had stirred something within Leng Junzhu, guiding her toward redemption.

But it was all an act.

Leng Junzhu had deliberately feigned remembering the past, speaking in ambiguous tones, acting half-familiar and half-distant — just enough to disturb Chu Zhiqin’s emotions and lure her deeper into a trap.

Was Chu Zhiqin truly blind to how poor Leng Junzhu’s act was? Not quite.

She simply didn’t want to see it.

She didn’t want to assume the worst. She had thought: perhaps Leng Junzhu had spent too long in the Demon Realm, influenced by the filth and ruthlessness of its people. Maybe she had simply picked up a few bad habits.

But Chu Zhiqin hadn’t minded — because she truly believed that once Leng Junzhu fully regained her memories, everything would get better. So she tolerated her petty revenge, even found it endearing, thinking: as long as no one died, she could let her have her way. After all, she was there — she would take responsibility if things went wrong.

Looking back now, Leng Junzhu had never even tried to hide her identity as a demon cultivator. Her acting had been perfunctory at best, and Chu Zhiqin… had simply chosen to turn a blind eye.

Fooling herself, praying for mercy from the heavens — only to end up with nothing.

She should have realized the truth that day in the cave, when Leng Junzhu had accused Liu Rushuang of being too ruthless.

Her real senior sister would never have spoken so harshly of the younger disciple she had raised with her own hands. How could she rebuke Liu Rushuang like that?

Those first words — “I forgot. Must not have been anything important,” and “So annoying” — were likely the only honest ones.

To Leng Junzhu, those memories really meant nothing.

She and her senior sister had truly become strangers. And all of this… all of it was her own fault.

She was the one who had acted willfully. She was the one who had tried to force fate to change. This was the consequence of her own choices — no one else could be blamed.

A single misstep, and she had lost everything.

Chu Zhiqin gripped the blade of the Qingshuang Sword. She had lost too much bl00d — she could barely remain standing.

“Who gave you permission to look at me like that?” Leng Junzhu’s voice pierced through the pain, her nerves bristling at Chu Zhiqin’s gaze. The sword sank another inch into her chest. Chu Zhiqin couldn’t suppress a groan.

“Who do you think you are? I hate it when people look at me like I’m some pitiful creature, tail tucked between my legs, begging for pity.”

“Chu Zhiqin, do you know what your biggest mistake was? Not killing me the moment you caught me.”

“My greatest virtue is my unwillingness to forgive. You captured me, imprisoned me, humiliated me — how could I not hate you? How could I not want revenge? I dreamed of it night and day, of repaying every cruelty you inflicted on me tenfold. I wanted to flay you, crush your bones, scatter your ashes.”

“But then I changed my mind.”

“I thought of something better. A more satisfying way to relieve my hatred.”

Leng Junzhu smiled coldly, her fingers caressing Chu Zhiqin’s cheek. The cold, slippery touch made Chu Zhiqin feel like a serpent was brushing against her skin.

“No…” Chu Zhiqin’s eyes grew dim, her last hope flickering.

“That’s right. It’s exactly what you think.”

“You always wanted to know if I remembered, didn’t you? Well, I’ll be honest now — yes, I remembered.”

“And thank those memories, truly — without them, I wouldn’t have known how best to earn your trust.”

“How does it feel, to be pinned beneath the very person you worshiped as your ‘senior sister’? You saw her as a luminous moon in the sky, and yet you shoved her memories into me, into this filthy swamp of a soul. How laughable.”

“That Liu Rushuang is far smarter than you. Surprised? She clearly had feelings for your precious senior sister, but she understood — the woman she loved was dead. Her love had nowhere to go.”

“She chose to live. But you… you will die.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best. Death might be a mercy for you. At least then you can meet her again, and pour out all those filthy little secrets of yours.”

Leng Junzhu twisted the sword. Bl00d welled up anew from the wound. Chu Zhiqin vomited another mouthful, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I never thought…”

That you hated me so deeply.

“Never thought? Or were you just too afraid to?” Leng Junzhu’s fury mounted. “You think I don’t know where those memories in my head came from?”

“The moment I consumed the first spirit herb, I knew something was off. I’ve taken all kinds of rare treasures before — why would that one cause dreams of someone else’s past?”

“Later, I got suspicious. When I consumed the third herb, I finally saw it: you were behind it.”

“You force-fed me the memories of ‘Leng Junzhu,’ constantly calling me your senior sister — why? Because you wanted to pull a trick, to swap heaven and earth, to fool me completely.”

“If I hadn’t figured it out early, maybe I really would have been deceived.”

Chu Zhiqin stared at her in disbelief as Leng Junzhu pulled a white jade vial from her sleeve.

“Recognize this?” she asked.

The jade glowed faintly in the sun. Four droplets of memory floated inside, unaware of the fate awaiting them.

“When did you take it?” Chu Zhiqin coughed out bl00d and then realized, answering her own question. “When you bandaged me… You pretended to fetch medicine — and stole it.”

“I’m your ‘senior sister,’ remember? How can reclaiming what’s mine be considered theft?”

“You don’t seem worried,” she added mockingly. “Aren’t you afraid I might drop it?”

She dangled the vial between two fingers, watching Chu Zhiqin’s gaze follow it.

“Want it back?”

Chu Zhiqin, still gasping, closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her face bore that same expression that Leng Junzhu hated most — calm, forgiving.

“This was yours from the start. Do with it as you will.”

“Mine—?”

“Hahahahahahahaha!”

Leng Junzhu burst into manic laughter. The sword hilt slipped from her hand as she cackled, tears streaking her pale face.

“I had no idea a lowly demon cultivator like me could be turned into the beloved senior sister of the sword sect. I wonder if your real senior sister will spit bl00d in the afterlife when she hears this!”

“You say it’s mine?” she whispered, gripping the vial. “Then…”

With a crisp shatter, the jade bottle burst in her hand. The memories within scattered into the air like falling stars.

Cold fragments landed on Chu Zhiqin’s nose. Eyes wide with panic, she reached out to catch them — but they were ephemeral, slipping through her fingers like mist.

Her heart clenched. Bl00d surged up her throat as she collapsed to her knees.

“Go and apologize to her.”

Leng Junzhu yanked the Qingshuang Sword free and kicked her in the shoulder. Already on the verge of death, Chu Zhiqin was sent tumbling into the stream.

The clear water turned red.

In a haze, she heard her younger self speaking:

“Senior Sister, look! I won a fish from the other disciples! Let’s go roast it by the river!”

“Senior Sister, does Liu Rushuang not like me? Did I upset her?”

The water rose above her nose, choking her, stealing her breath.

“This yuanxiao is so sweet! Try it, Senior Sister. The cook made it just right — sweet but not cloying.”

“Hehe, you silly! Burned your tongue on yuanxiao? Wait here, I’ll get you some ice.”

Her ears filled with gurgling water.

“Ugh, my name is so hard to write.”

“I wrote it! Now I’ll learn to write yours too!”

Her pierced heart slowed. Her body grew cold and drifted with the current.

“I’ll train hard so I can protect you, Senior Sister!”

“Where are we going this time for training?”

“Senior Sister! Watch out!”

“…Senior Sister…”

The eyes that survived a century-old blaze slowly closed.

The sky was so blue today.

…

Sword Sect.

In the grand palace, a disciple in white uniform burst in, startling Elder Sinan. Ink spilled across his papers.

“Elder! It’s terrible, something awful has happened!”

Sinan wiped the ink, frowning. “What is it? Why the panic?”

The disciple, Su Ran, panted as she delivered a thunderbolt:

“Elder Chu Zhiqin’s life tablet shattered!”

Sinan’s face changed drastically. He rushed out from behind the desk.

“Is this true?”

“I wouldn’t dare lie about such a thing!” Su Ran gasped. “It was my shift at the Life Tablet Hall today — her tablet shattered without warning. I came running immediately.”

“Who else was on duty?”

“I was alone. No one else knows yet.”

“Good. Keep it that way. Guard the fragments carefully. I’ll inform the Sect Leader.”

Without further words, Sinan strode toward Xuanqing’s secluded quarters.

Su Ran nodded gravely and rushed back to safeguard the broken tablet.

The sky had darkened. The wind howled. The forest whispered of an approaching storm.

Sect Leader Xuanqing had claimed to be in seclusion, but was actually tending flowers at Yuxia Peak, hidden from all eyes.

For three months, few had stepped foot there. The palace was quiet and cold.

As Sinan entered, he saw Xuanqing on a divan, two broken jade pendants in her hand.

“You’ve come,” she said.

“It’s shattered — just like a century ago.”

“Sect Leader…”

Sinan understood at once. A hundred years ago, Leng Junzhu’s life tablet had also shattered without warning.

“I’m fine,” said Xuanqing.

She set the jade down and looked out the window. “Sinan… the world is about to change.”

Sinan followed her gaze. A crack of thunder split the sky, lightning flashed, and the wind howled.

The two shattered pendants glowed faintly.

It began to rain.