After Being Cursed, My Cold Senior Sister Fell in Love with Me - Chapter 6

Jiang Rulian was found and brought to Tingyun Mountain.

She remembered floating in the water, waves crashing against her, soaking her feathers. Just as she was about to drown, someone fished her out.

Wrapped in cotton cloth and jostled during the journey, she hadn’t even opened her eyes when she first smelled the faint, woodsy scent.

Sensing warmth, she shivered and shuffled toward the heat source.

“Qing Qian, what’s that you’re holding?”

She heard a human voice. Phoenixes are born with innate knowledge; the languages of all races are etched into their Sea of Consciousness from birth.

“A demon Master picked up,” replied another voice, youthful yet steady and composed.

“Xiaobai’s at it again, bringing home strays?”

The cotton cloth was lifted slightly. She quickly buried her head in her wings, curling into a tight, crimson ball.

“Ooh, it’s a phoenix. These things are a handful to feed. Why don’t you give it to me? I’ll take care of it.”

“Martial Uncle means well, but Master specifically instructed me to look after it properly before she left. If she returns and asks about its condition, I wouldn’t be able to answer, and that wouldn’t be good.”

“Besides, since it’s so difficult to care for, there’s no need for Martial Uncle to trouble himself. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take full responsibility.”

She didn’t fully grasp the implications of this exchange, only hearing the man chuckle a few times.

“Such a young age, yet so flawless in your reasoning.”

Then, she was securely carried back to Qingluo Peak and gently placed on a soft cushion.

Only when the world around her stopped swaying did she slowly open her eyes.

A girl in a white Daoist robe stood before her, rolling up her sleeves. Her white hair was neatly pinned back with a wooden hairpin, falling smoothly down her back.

The girl mixed flour, lit the fire, and placed the dough in the steamer. Her movements flowed with practiced grace, suggesting she performed these tasks regularly.

As the steam rose, the girl lifted the steamer lid and picked out a plump, white steamed bun. She tore it into tiny pieces.

Turning around with the plate, Jiang Rulian finally got a clear look at her.

Her features were sparse and cold, like spring mountains in a painting, while the mole at the corner of her eye was like a bird in flight, giving the entire painting a sense of vitality.

She placed the plate in front of Jiang Rulian and poured a ladle of water into a small teacup, setting it beside the plate.

Then she left without looking back.

Jiang Rulian shook her wings and crouched beside the steamed bun, famished.

But she didn’t eat.

Phoenix chicks only eat Bamboo Rice.

When Qing Qian returned from her sword practice, she found the steamed bun still untouched, while the little phoenix had its head drooping, looking close to death.

Its chest barely rose and fell, its red feathers were disheveled, and it hadn’t even grown tail feathers yet. It looked even uglier than a chick raised by the farmers down the mountain.

Jiang Rulian blinked laboriously. Just a moment ago, Qing Qian had been standing right in front of her, but now she was gone.

She didn’t have the strength to wonder why. The spiritual energy within her was dissipating, and her Demon Core was on the verge of collapse.

Just as she was about to give up, her beak was forced open, and a metallic-sweet taste filled her mouth.

A surge of potent spiritual energy followed. Someone was feeding her blood to forcibly sustain her life.

But this blood was like drinking poison to quench thirst; consuming it only made her hungrier.

As Qing Qian withdrew her fingers, Jiang Rulian desperately strained forward, letting out a plaintive cry:

“Ji!”

Even the most composed youth can’t hide their confusion forever. A puzzled expression crossed Qing Qian’s face. “Is that how a Phoenix calls?”

On Qingluo Peak, she was the only living soul, with at most a single demon for company. There was no one to answer her question.

She stuffed the Phoenix into a cotton-lined basket, then left the hut, sword in hand.

This time, Jiang Rulian waited even longer, until the sliver of light seeping through the window seam shifted from brilliant gold to serene white.

The already scarce spiritual energy had been completely depleted. Black spots gradually encroached on her vision. Before she completely lost consciousness, Qing Qian pushed open the door.

She seemed to have run for ages. Even her temples were damp with sweat, and the hem of her Daoist robe was stained with mud—more disheveled than ever.

Panting softly, she retrieved a green fruit from the cloth bag slung across her back. With a forceful snap, she split it open to reveal plump grains of bamboo rice, brimming with spiritual energy.

Jiang Rulian lived again.

After finishing her Bamboo Rice, Jiang Rulian began meticulously grooming her feathers, patiently untangling each knot.

Qing Qian sat before her, writing with a brush dipped in thick ink, her elegant calligraphy flowing: “A phoenix will not eat unless it’s nourished by…”

Jiang Rulian hopped over, crouching beside Qing Qian’s hand, and gently nuzzled her with her soft feathers.

“Don’t move.” Qing Qian flicked her away, sending the bird tumbling onto her back.

Undeterred, Jiang Rulian approached again, this time nudging her head into Qing Qian’s palm.

Though she managed to wedge her head in, Qing Qian swiftly gripped her nape and placed her on a freshly cut branch of paulownia wood.

Qing Qian then rose and went outside to tend to the Jade Bamboo seedlings.

She had thought that securing food and shelter would be enough, but she hadn’t anticipated the greater troubles to come.

The recovering Phoenix chick, beyond its ability to cry and move, was no different from a Supreme Tonic Pill.

One day, a Gudiao might plummet from the sky; the next, a giant python might loom before her, its gaping maw poised to swallow the Phoenix whole.

*****

From that moment on, Jiang Rulian settled into a life of heart-pounding excitement, yet remarkable routine.

Each morning, Qing Qian would rise and prepare fresh spring water and Bamboo Rice.

While Qing Qian studied, Jiang Rulian obediently served as a paperweight. When Qing Qian went out to practice swordsmanship, the bird perched on her perch, tilting her head to watch.

The fourteen-year-old girl moved with the grace of a soaring dragon, her back as straight and resilient as a tender bamboo stalk, unyielding to frost or wind.

Her sword tip swept and flicked, like a red plum blossom in early bloom, drifting slowly into Jiang Rulian’s eyes.

Only very occasionally, when passing by, would she gently pat Jiang Rulian’s head—a fleeting touch like a dragonfly skimming water before withdrawing.

When the sun set and demons and ghosts roamed the night, the weak ones would ambush, the strong ones would overpower, and the cunning ones would use illusions. Tingyun Mountain’s grand formation couldn’t defend against them.

After sustaining internal injuries while severely wounding a three-tailed Zeng, Jiang Rulian was brought to Qing Qian for treatment. The Medical Cultivator Junior Sister who came to treat her advised, “Eldest Senior Sister, why push yourself so hard? Why not abandon the Phoenix? Martial Uncle Bai wouldn’t blame you.”

Jiang Rulian listened quietly. If abandoned, she would certainly die.

Her survival instinct urged her to nudge closer and cling to Qing Qian’s fingers, to wheedle and cajole. But the time they’d spent together had also taught her to remain silent.

Qing Qian’s body was covered in wounds, old injuries barely healed before new ones appeared.

The person who initially offered to take care of her had never visited, though a letter had arrived, instructing Qing Qian to preserve the Phoenix’s body if it died.

Senior brothers and sisters from other peaks had come to help a few times, but they had all disappeared without a trace.

On many early mornings, Qing Qian tended to her wounds alone, changing her bandages with swift, silent movements.

******

Meanwhile, the phoenix could do nothing but hop anxiously on its perch. At most, it could cover her hand with its body when she fell asleep, leaving it exposed outside the quilt.

The Demon Race had always followed the law of the jungle: the strong preyed on the weak. It was only natural to discard something useless that only caused trouble.

The phoenix thought, I must fly onto Qing Qian’s shoulder before she discards me, and nuzzle her cheek.

The room was filled with the bitter scent of medicinal herbs. Qing Qian draped her outer robe over her shoulders, faint white bandages visible at her collar.

She poured herself a cup of hot tea, her hand so steady not a ripple disturbed the surface.

Her expression was calm as she said, “No need. I can manage.”

******

The Medical Cultivator Junior Sister sighed helplessly. “Senior Sister, you know your phoenix has been targeted by a Black Jiao Dragon. Martial Uncle Kang said if there’s going to be a fight, take it outside. Don’t destroy the spirit herbs he’s growing.”

“Yes, I understand, Qing Qian.”

Seeing her still impassive, the junior sister produced a large bundle, which she spread out to reveal a variety of talismans and spirit tools.

“Here, this is the amulet and spirit stone from your Master. If you can’t beat it, just run. Don’t worry about it.”

“……”

Jiang Rulian didn’t want to hear any more. She buried her head in her feathers, trying to make herself as small as possible.

After an unknown amount of time, when she opened her eyes again, Qing Qian was building a cage.

Using sturdy Gold Radiance Wood, she constructed the frame, carefully sanded away the splinters, and finally placed Jiang Rulian’s usual perch inside. A beautiful birdcage was complete.

Jiang Rulian crouched obediently, waiting to slip inside the moment the door opened.

She hoped Qing Qian would put a Bamboo Seed inside, so she could have a full meal before she died.

Unexpectedly, Qing Qian took out the previous talisman and began arranging it on the cage.

Each stroke sealed away vast amounts of spiritual energy, and the intricate patterns made Jiang Rulian’s eyes spin. She vaguely understood what Qing Qian was doing, but couldn’t be certain.

Finally, she stuck a talisman on the cage door and beckoned to her. “Come here.”

Before she could say anything, Jiang Rulian slipped into the cage of her own accord, even closing the door with her beak, her black eyes watching her.

She was as obedient as a fake phoenix.

Qing Qian strapped her sword to her back, picked up the cage, and descended the mountain. She chose a patch of open ground several dozen miles from Tingyun Mountain.

She ground the Spirit Stone into powder and spent several hours focused intently on using the terrain to form an array.

The wind grew stronger, and dark clouds piled high in the sky, forming towering waves that seemed ready to collapse at any moment, leaving the puny humans utterly powerless to stop them.

Jiang Rulian glimpsed black scales flashing through the clouds and began to flutter anxiously.

Why hasn’t Qing Qian left? Why is she still standing there as if nothing’s wrong?

When the Black Jiao Dragon’s massive head emerged from the clouds, Qing Qian drew her sword with a sweep of her arm.

The sword’s hum and the dragon’s roar echoed simultaneously, freezing Jiang Rulian in place.

For the first few minutes, Qing Qian could still rely on her agility to evade the dragon. But as her spiritual energy flowed out like water, her movements slowed.

Seizing the opportunity, the dragon flicked its tail. The cage remained standing, but Qing Qian was sent flying like a kite with a snapped string, thrown several meters away and crashing into a tree, snapping it in half.

“Cough, cough.” Clutching her chest, Qing Qian staggered to her feet, her eyes darkening.

“I’ve never seen a human protect a demon before,” the dragon rumbled.

The Black Jiao Dragon exhaled a foul breath, its muffled voice echoing from above: “Why do you insist on this?”

“Master said it must not die. Protecting it is my only duty.”

As her words faded, a dark edge crept along the moon, obscured by layers of clouds.

The shadow spread, gradually swallowing the full moon. This annual lunar eclipse would severely weaken the demon’s power.

The dragon’s pupils narrowed to slits as Qing Qian raised her hand, intricate patterns of light erupting across the ground.

Then, a deafening thunderclap shook the air.

Fine threads of lightning wove into a dense net, trapping the Black Jiao Dragon. Its struggles were futile.

Qing Qian thrust her sword into the formation’s eye. In an instant, spiritual energy from miles around converged upon the point.

Her sleeves whipped in the gale, her eyes reflecting the myriad lightning bolts.

In Jiang Rulian’s vision, there was only Qing Qian.

With a deafening crash, the Black Jiao Dragon plummeted into the valley, its massive form crushing countless trees.

The area was devastated, littered with broken branches and shattered rocks. Only the birdcage at the formation’s center remained intact.

Qing Qian had reached her limit.

She collapsed to her knees, barely able to support herself on her sword.

The wound on her shoulder remained untreated, blood soaking through most of her robe. Yet she maintained the same posture, eyes closed, too weak to even stand.

Jiang Rulian couldn’t bear to just watch. Her heart raced, the overwhelming helplessness threatening to grind her bones to dust.

The Demonic Aura within her body surged out of control, rampaging through her flesh. Though her entire body ached, she forced open the cage door. The moment her claws touched the ground, they transformed into human feet.

Growing, extending, shattering, reforming. As long as she could run to Qing Qian and embrace her with her arms, she could endure it all.

By the time Qing Qian opened her eyes, Jiang Rulian had already completed her transformation.

She threw herself into Qing Qian’s arms, heedless of the bloodstains and grime, clinging to her with desperate force.

Then, with great effort, she forced her newly human vocal cords to form words, stumbling over the syllables:

“Q-Qing. Qing…”

Qing Qian remained silent for a moment, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth before pressing down on Jiang Rulian’s shoulders to push her back slightly.

Jiang Rulian lowered her gaze, her voice hoarse. “Call me Senior Sister.”

The Little Phoenix’s lips quivered, large tears rolling down her delicate cheeks. Even as her sobs continued unabated, she obeyed. “Wah, Senior Sister…”

******

After the conversation about “what to shout,” Qing Qian fell silent, and Jiang Rulian didn’t disturb her.

As they approached the boundary marker, Jiang Rulian finally spoke up, “Senior Sister.”

“…”

Qing Qian showed no reaction, her face nestled against the white feathers of the coat she was holding, sound asleep.

The last deception had been just last night, so Jiang Rulian was now much more cautious.

She kept her eyes focused and her hands still.

She opened the car door and sat down beside Qing Qian. “Senior Sister, we’re here. Wake up.”

Qing Qian’s fingers clutched the coat, her fine eyelashes trembling like butterfly wings, refusing to open.

Something was wrong.

Without thinking, Jiang Rulian reached out and pressed the back of her hand against Qing Qian’s forehead.

It was burning hot.

Her heart sank immediately.

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