Haven't Been a Senior Sister for Many Years - Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Welcome Back, Demon Lord

The stream had turned clear again. The fish that had been frightened away returned, playfully swimming near the pebbles with their companions.

Leng Junzhu wiped away the remaining tears on her face and put on a mask she retrieved from her spatial ring.

No one knew what the mask was made of, but once worn, it clung to her face seamlessly. Only a pair of golden serpent eyes and a bit of pale skin were visible. The mask’s intricate and eerie patterns resembled countless serpent eyes intertwined, staring unblinkingly from every direction, making anyone who looked at it feel a chill down their spine.

During the three months she was imprisoned beside Chu Zhiqin, Leng Junzhu had restrained her aura and temperament, pretending to be harmless. But now, with the mask on, she was like eternal frost in the dead of winter—unyielding and bone-chilling.

“……”
She stared at the patch of soil on the riverbank soaked in Chu Zhiqin’s bl00d. Her masked face revealed no emotion, making it impossible to guess what she was thinking.

Finally, she looked away and walked back along the trail.

All the animals in the area had already fled. When Leng Junzhu reached the entrance of the cave, she paused.

She rubbed her forehead and shook her head helplessly, inwardly scolding herself for going crazy to have come back here.

But since she was already here, she might as well check if anything had been left behind—it would save her trouble in the future.

After comforting herself, she stepped into the cave.

It wasn’t large, and the stone walls inside were smooth and even—clearly carved by someone with a sword.

At the deepest part of the cave, a clean, soft quilt lay neatly on the ground with a few storybooks placed on top.

Chu Zhiqin had laid the quilt after bandaging her wounds, just to make sure a certain pampered little snake could sleep comfortably and sit cozily.

On the other side were scattered empty jade bottles and a mortar and pestle. In the past couple of days, Chu Zhiqin would grind herbs with the pestle and hand them to Leng Junzhu for application.

Leng Junzhu actually had better medicinal ointments in her spatial ring, but she wanted to see just how foolish Chu Zhiqin could be, so she kept quiet.

And as expected—Chu Zhiqin was a fool.

Leng Junzhu picked up a bl00d-stained hair tie from the ground. The light-colored ribbon was embroidered with cloud patterns, and a silver pendant hung from its end. She had seen this ribbon in a dream—it was a standard accessory distributed to Sword Sect disciples.

There was nothing else in the cave. It felt especially empty now that Chu Zhiqin was gone.

Leng Junzhu turned to leave, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glint of deep green among the bottles in the corner. She bent down and picked it up.

It was a half-carved jade hairpin.

The jade was clearly of top quality—emerald green, smooth, and delicate.

Unfortunately, the person carving it lacked skill. A beautiful piece of jade had been clumsily ruined, and it was unclear what the design was meant to be.

Leng Junzhu examined it in her palm.

A round head, intertwined and curved body—the rough craftsmanship made it even more grotesque and unrecognizable.

The more she looked at it, the uglier it became. And yet, it looked oddly familiar—like a—

Snake.

At this moment, Leng Junzhu understood everything. Chu Zhiqin had clearly intended to carve a “Spirit Serpent” hairpin. As for whom it was meant for—that was obvious.

Leng Junzhu originally intended to break it. The hairpin was too hideous, and the sculptor unforgivable. She couldn’t think of any reason to let it live.

But in the end, she kept it and placed it in her spatial ring along with the ribbon.

After storing the hairpin, she didn’t linger. She exited the cave.

At some point, the sun had already begun to set. A cool mountain breeze blew, lifting the hair draped over her shoulders.

Standing at the entrance, Leng Junzhu quickly formed a hand seal. Her figure turned into a wisp of wind and vanished.

Who knew how much time passed before the wind died down.

…

“This weather is so capricious—infuriating!” Mo Qianxue cursed the recent unpredictable climate. One moment it was sunny, and the next, dark clouds and thunder rolled in, completely ruining her mood.

She had planned to take her palace beauties out for a scenic trip—and perhaps indulge in some outdoor fun—but the heavens disagreed. Before she could even step outside, the rain arrived.

“Yu’er, I’ve got a headache.”
Yu’er, her most favored concubine of the month, spent more than half the time sharing her bed these days.

Today, Mo Qianxue had wanted to try something new, but with her plans ruined, she collapsed into Yu’er’s arms in a foul mood, begging for a massage.

Yu’er’s slender, warm fingers pressed gently at Mo Qianxue’s temples, soothing her while whispering sweetly, “Why trouble yourself with the weather, my lord? Scenery can always be enjoyed later. But if your health suffers, my heart will ache—I wish I could take the pain for you.”

Spoiled by Yu’er’s pampering and sweet talk, Mo Qianxue took advantage of her busy hands to steal a few kisses, venting her frustration. Only then did she relax and close her eyes.

It had been three months. She wondered how the Demon Lord was doing now.

The events in Qi River Town had been swiftly reported to her—within half a day, a letter appeared on her desk detailing the entire incident. But the account only covered Chu Zhiqin almost killing Liu Rushuang before flying away. Her destination remained unknown.

Mo Qianxue didn’t care much for the fight between Chu Zhiqin and Liu Rushuang. In the end, no one died, and no significant power shift occurred among the immortal sects—meaning it was irrelevant to the demon realm.

What she truly worried about was the Demon Lord.

After parting in Anning Town, Mo Qianxue had followed the Demon Lord’s instructions, occasionally leaking Leng Junzhu’s whereabouts. This forced Chu Zhiqin and Leng Junzhu into constant hiding. Had it not been for that meddling spirit dragon, she might not have lost track of the Demon Lord.

For centuries, the demon realm lacked a true ruler. The Twelve Demon Gods only indulged in pleasures and slaughter, neglecting all responsibilities, leaving the realm in constant chaos.

Then Leng Junzhu appeared.

Her origins were unknown, and no one had seen her true face beneath the mask. That bizarre mask and her golden serpent eyes quickly made her the most feared name in the realm.

She arrived from the depths of hell, soaked in bl00d and death, tearing through the entrenched powers and crowning herself the new ruler of the demon realm.

Under her brutal and effective rule, the once turbulent demon realm reached its peak.

Mo Qianxue had bet on the right person—and was now second only to the Demon Lord herself.

The longer Leng Junzhu stayed in power, the better for Mo Qianxue.

“My lord, does your head still hurt? Why do you look so displeased?”
Yu’er gently smoothed Mo Qianxue’s frown.

Mo Qianxue grabbed her hand and said, “Just lost in thought, Yu’er—wait, who’s there!?”

She suddenly sensed a new presence in the room and shot upright, fully alert.

“Who dares sneak into my palace without showing themselves? What is your intent?”

The air twisted.

In the corner of the room, a figure silently appeared. She turned her head—and met a pair of golden serpent eyes, cold and unfeeling, watching her from the shadows.

Yu’er, only a Core Formation cultivator, couldn’t sense the intruder until it was too late. Startled by the sudden appearance, she gave a small cry and hid behind Mo Qianxue.

When Mo Qianxue saw who it was, her heart jumped. She hurriedly tidied her clothes and hair.

“I did not know Your Grace was coming. Forgive me for not welcoming you properly.”

Yu’er quickly followed suit and bowed.

“You’ve grown slack in my absence,” Leng Junzhu said, ignoring the kneeling Yu’er and heading straight for the seat.

Mo Qianxue resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d earned her Demon God title through cunning, not brute force like that fool Murong Su.

“You’ve handled matters?” she asked, motioning for Yu’er to leave and pouring tea for Leng Junzhu.

“I thought you’d be back later.”

Leng Junzhu sipped the tea, raising an eyebrow. “You certainly know how to enjoy yourself.”

The tea Mo Qianxue had brewed was the rare and costly Mist Frost Cloud Shadow Tea, known to help with focus and cultivation.

“If I didn’t return soon, someone might’ve taken my throne,” Leng Junzhu said, setting down her cup.

Mo Qianxue couldn’t tell her mood through the mask. She quietly poured another cup and asked cautiously, “No one in their right mind would dare. Everyone knows the realm’s prosperity is thanks to you.”

“Hmph. That assumes they have minds,” Leng Junzhu sneered. “I’ve been gone just three months, and Murong Su and Lin Zixiao already forgot who’s boss.”

Mo Qianxue understood immediately—Leng Junzhu had paid those two a visit and got irritated, so now she came here to vent.

“Those two have always been brainless—you know that better than anyone. At least Su Yuqiu is still behaving and staying out of it. If she got involved, that would be a real headache.”

“Hmph. She wouldn’t dare.”

Mo Qianxue sighed inwardly. Back then, you were constantly worried about Su Yuqiu!

Thinking of the past, Su Yuqiu had been the hardest to deal with among the Twelve Demon Gods. Had she not willingly submitted, it would’ve taken much longer for Leng Junzhu to claim the throne.

Mo Qianxue asked, “Are you leaving again?”

Leng Junzhu replied, “There’s no need.”

“You mean—?”

“Chu Zhiqin is dead.”

“!!”

Mo Qianxue stared at her in shock. She truly hadn’t expected Leng Junzhu to actually kill Chu Zhiqin. After all, back in Anning Town, Leng Junzhu had seemed like a lovestruck girl.

She’d never admitted it, but her whole being reeked of love back then—it was nauseating.

And now, less than a month later—Chu Zhiqin was dead.

“That’s great news. With her gone and chaos spreading across the Nine Provinces, sects in decline—why not seize the chance to swallow up their power and strengthen ours?”

“That’s exactly my plan.”

“Then shall I summon the Twelve Demon Gods for a meeting?”

“Yes. Tell them I’ll be waiting at the Demon Sovereign’s Hall. Those who don’t show—will face the consequences.”

“Understood.”

“I’m leaving. Send me a report of all that’s happened in the demon realm and the Nine Provinces while I was gone. I want to see what kind of mess they’ve made.”

“I’ll have it delivered before nightfall.”

“Good. I’m off. No need to see me out.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Leng Junzhu vanished like a gust of wind—gone in an instant.