My Senior Sister Says She Will Marry No One But Me - Chapter 2

Since being pierced through the heart by He Zhenzhen’s sword, Du Yunge had been lingering in a mysterious state where she felt as if she were the only existence drifting between heaven and earth.

At times, she felt as though she were still at her wedding night in the He Manor, recalling the cold glint in He Zhenzhen’s eyes as she lifted her bridal veil, a flash she had once dismissed as her imagination. At other times, she sensed her body had turned completely cold, the blood from her chest long congealed, no longer flowing freely. He Zhenzhen had ordered her body wrapped in a tattered mat and discarded in the wilderness, leaving the former mistress of He Manor without a proper burial. Then, she would drift back to her childhood on Wangyou Mountain, where she had been as wild as a monkey so unruly that even all the monkeys combined couldn’t match her mischief. During those years, the Four Guardians of the seasons spent their days either working or searching high and low to bring her back for meals, or simply on their way to find her for dinner.

In her daze, she saw her younger self fighting a monkey over a peach not only failing to snatch it but also getting herself wedged perfectly between two forked branches of the peach tree. Her short legs and the branches formed a comical cross, leaving her stuck, unable to climb up or down, while the monkey nearby chattered with laughter at the foolish human attempting to steal food from its kind. It wasn’t until an exhausted Guardian of Spring hurried over that she was freed, sparing the young mistress of the Miaoyin Sect from being left hanging on the tree, sun-drenched and wind-blown, like a real peach.

Du Yunge smiled faintly, thinking, Was I really that mischievous back then? I truly burdened the Four Guardians and Senior Sister Xue.

Xue Shuyan.

Just the thought of that name filled Du Yunge with such shame that even in death, she wished she could bury her head in the ground. Regret washed over her as she wondered how she could have been so foolish, how she had ignored Xue Shuyan’s warnings and followed He Zhenzhen, that beast who hid her true nature behind a friendly face. Everyone, even He Zhenzhen, knew how loyal Xue Shuyan was to the Miaoyin Sect. That was precisely why He Zhenzhen had whispered in Du Yunge’s ear, “Your Senior Sister Xue probably has ulterior motives,” successfully driving a wedge between them in the end.

And in the end, the one accused of disloyalty had never harmed her, while the one who had sworn vows with her, promising “eternal love and trust,” was the one who sent her to the underworld.

Why had she believed He Zhenzhen back then? After much reflection, Du Yunge could only blame her own naivety. After all, Xue Shuyan always faced her with an expression so stern it made people hold their breath. Compared to He Zhenzhen’s constant warmth and smiles, anyone would think Xue Shuyan’s face was emblazoned with bold, ink-black characters:

I can’t stand you.

Considering how foolish she had been, Du Yunge thought that if this were truly the end for her, it wouldn’t be entirely unjust.

Just as she had come to terms with her fate, however, it seemed the heavens were determined to toy with her resignation. As she felt herself drifting long enough to soon dissipate into the void, a hauntingly familiar voice echoed faintly in her ears:

“Yunge.”

Du Yunge’s mind was still hazy, yet even so, she was utterly startled upon hearing that name. If she weren’t a drifting, solitary ghost but a person with a physical form, she might have leaped three feet into the air on the spot.

The voice carried the cold, rigid tone characteristic of the Hu people from beyond the frontier. Even when simply calling someone’s name, it ended with an unyielding harshness that was difficult to soften. In just a single sentence, it conveyed an intense, icy impression of “this person is hard to get along with.” Among all the people Du Yunge had known, only one could achieve such an effect.

Xue Shuyan.

At first, she was overjoyed, thinking, As expected, Senior Sister still can’t let me go. Even after marrying beyond the frontier, she came back to avenge me. But the next moment, Du Yunge belatedly realized that she was already dead and had died a gruesome death, one so brutal that not even her whole body remained.

The name Xue Shuyan represented far too much to Du Yunge, and the most important of all was that, in her eyes, Xue Shuyan was nearly omnipotent. For a long time, those three characters had been synonymous with “reliable support” in capital letters. No matter what mistakes she made, what wrongs she committed, or what messes she stirred up, Xue Shuyan could always clean up after her.

But something as monumental as life and death. Even if Xue Shuyan came, could she possibly reverse such a fate? At best, if Xue Shuyan rushed back from beyond the frontier, she would only make it in time for Du Yunge’s seventh-day funeral rites. Without concrete evidence and with the He Manor dominating the scene, even if Xue Shuyan had the heart to avenge her, she likely lacked the means.

At this thought, Du Yunge’s eyes stung, growing hot and swollen as if something were about to spill out at any moment.

She felt that something seemed off but didn’t dwell on it, merely murmuring to herself:

“How strange? Can the dead still cry?”

As soon as she spoke, she distinctly sensed that the voice calling her name, the one so reminiscent of Xue Shuyan paused noticeably, as if startled by her words. When it spoke again, there was a faint, barely detectable urgency:

“Yunge!”

This time, the call felt much more real, no longer the vague, illusory sensation akin to a delusion, but a tangible voice from an actual person.

Wait?!!!!

Du Yunge was jolted fully awake by the voice that kept calling her name. The next moment, her drifting, anchorless soul seemed to be seized by something, bundled up and kneaded into a ball, then forcibly stuffed into a body much like being dressed against her will as a child.

The moment she opened her eyes, she saw the figure standing by her bed. Her bed was a luxurious ten-post canopy bed made of high-quality rosewood, adorned with shimmering mother-of-pearl inlays depicting a hundred flowers and herbs. The bedposts were carved with intricate and majestic dragon-and-phoenix cloud patterns, and the canopy was draped with a soft, rain-washed-blue gauze. The delicate fabric, combined with its ethereal hue, didn’t block light as effectively as darker bed curtains, yet it created a uniquely hazy and elegant atmosphere. Trying to identify someone through the dim, bluish glow was no easy task unless she was so familiar with the person that she could recognize them with just a fleeting glance at their silhouette, without even needing to see their face clearly.

In the entire Miaoyin Sect, there were no more than five people who were both close enough to Du Yunge and had the privilege to enter her inner chamber without startling her. Coupled with that highly distinctive voice, a name sprang to Du Yunge’s lips without a second thought:

“Senior Sister Xue?!”

Sure enough, the person standing by her bed, lifting the first layer of the canopy, was none other than Xue Shuyan, the future deputy leader of the Miaoyin Sect in her previous life, the Senior Sister Xue whom Du Yunge would forever look up to, no matter how many lifetimes she lived.

Her jet-black hair was tied high, secured only by a deep amber rhinoceros horn hairpin. She wore a crow-blue robe with narrow sleeves and a light cyan outer garment embroidered with silver swastika patterns at the hem. Both colors were notoriously difficult to wear, as they could easily appear rustic if not styled properly. But with her tall stature and sharp, striking features, she exuded an air of elegance and spirited grace.

Du Yunge was momentarily stunned, her mind in turmoil. She had always been terrified of supernatural matters, especially after being frightened repeatedly by He Zhenzhen in her past life. Gripping the soft brocade quilt tightly, her knuckles turned white from the strain. Describing her as a startled bird would be an understatement at least a bird could fly away in panic at the sound of a bowstring, but Du Yunge was so petrified she seemed to have lost her senses, unable to move, trembling and pale as she curled up on the bed, completely immobilized.

Upon noticing that Du Yunge had awakened, the figure outside the canopy let go of the half-lifted curtain, and the crow-blue silhouette once again blurred behind the rain-washed-blue gauze. “It’s me.”

After calling out that name, Du Yunge could do nothing more, pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth in a desperate attempt to steady her ragged breathing. After all, the idea of returning from the dead was too fantastical and who was to say this wasn’t another cruel trick by that vile He Zhenzhen?!

The person outside the canopy quickly noticed her distress. For a master who had reached the pinnacle of martial arts, even the sound of falling petals or rustling leaves could be as loud as thunder when they paid attention, let alone such obvious, panicked breathing. As the saying goes, “Care gives rise to chaos,” and even Xue Shuyan was not immune. Though her face remained as cold and expressionless as ever, her actions betrayed a hint of her concern:

“Yunge?”

Du Yunge clenched her teeth tightly, struggling to suppress the scream that threatened to escape her lips. Yet her unusual silence only deepened Xue Shuyan’s concern. As the esteemed senior disciple of the Miaoyin Sect and the undisputed future deputy sect leader, Xue Shuyan could no longer afford to worry about propriety. Without hesitation, she swept aside the tightly drawn bed curtains:

“My apologies!”

Du Yunge had intended to stop Xue Shuyan from entering. She didn’t need a mirror to know her face was deathly pale, ghastly enough to resemble a female ghost. Xue Shuyan, with her keen perception, had already detected something amiss just from her breathing. If she were to see her pallid complexion, the consequences would be dire Xue Shuyan would surely pry the truth out of her in no time.

That is, assuming this person was truly Xue Shuyan and not someone sent by He Zhenzhen to deceive her.

As fate would have it, just as Du Yunge reached out to pull the curtains shut, her hand collided with Xue Shuyan’s, which was pushing them open. Given Du Yunge’s usual routine, she should have just woken up, and her hands ought to feel soft and warm. Yet now, Xue Shuyan felt nothing but an endless chill where their skin met.

Alarmed but maintaining her composure, a demeanor so steady it drew admiration for her poise and grace Xue Shuyan grasped Du Yunge’s hand firmly and asked in a low voice:

“Yunge, what’s wrong?”

Even after all these years in the Central Plains, her accent showed no sign of fading, forever carrying a decisive, martial sharpness. This was especially noticeable when she lowered her voice. Though her words were meant to be comforting, even Xue Shuyan herself could hear how cold and harsh they sounded far from soothing, they were more likely to frighten than console.

This realization brought a flicker of regret, but before she could amend her words, she saw Du Yunge begin to cry.

Du Yunge’s tears only enhanced her beauty. As the reigning top beauty of the martial world, even with her hair disheveled, devoid of makeup, and clad only in simple undergarments, her weeping held an exquisite, pitiable charm reminiscent of the legendary Xizi, a grace impossible for others to imitate.

Indeed, the saying “A gentle embrace is a hero’s tomb; rouge and powder lead heroes astray” held true. The overwhelming allure of her tears left even Xue Shuyan, whose reputation stretched beyond the frontier, utterly at a loss. She reached into her sleeve for a handkerchief, only to remember she wasn’t like her junior disciple Du Yunge, who always carried such feminine essentials as scented pouches and embroidered kerchiefs. Instead, she cautiously extended her hand to wipe away Du Yunge’s tears:

“Don’t cry.”

Her fingers had barely brushed against Du Yunge’s soft, warm cheek when she flinched as if scalded, instinctively pulling back. But Du Yunge, in a moment of uncharacteristic swiftness, caught her retreating hand and pressed it firmly against her own face.

Even Xue Shuyan, renowned for her unflappable composure and vast experience, was taken aback by this unexpected gesture. It took her a long moment before she could finally speak.

“Did you have a nightmare, Yunge?”

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