My Senior Sister Says She Will Marry No One But Me - Chapter 27.1

Ever since it was decided that she and Xue Shuyan, who would become the deputy sect leader by then, would go down the mountain together to check the accounts when the mountain pass opened next spring, Du Yunge had been practicing martial arts with even more dedication. Within just a few days, she had developed blisters on her hands. After the blisters burst, faint calluses began to form, resembling the sword calluses on Xue Shuyan’s hands.

She dared not take things lightly, especially considering the various unexpected situations that were bound to arise once they descended the mountain. No one could guarantee that Xue Shuyan would always be by her side to protect her. If they were to be separated for some unforeseen reason and she were to lose her life again due to her lack of skill, she would truly have no one to turn to in her despair.

However, when Du Yunge arrived at the training hall today, she noticed that Xue Shuyan was not standing quietly in the center, holding her long sword as usual. Instead, she was sitting upright in a grand chair nearby. As soon as Xue Shuyan heard the sound of Du Yunge pushing the door open, she looked up and said:

“It’s cold outside today. Come warm your hands.”

Du Yunge was both surprised and puzzled, as this was hardly the kind of remark one would expect from the martial arts fanatic Xue Shuyan. But since Xue Shuyan had said it, she felt she couldn’t refuse. Obediently, she sat down beside her, keeping a distance of less than half a foot from the source of the room’s coldest aura. She reached out to take the hand warmer offered by a maid nearby and asked:

“Senior Sister Xue, are we not practicing swordsmanship today?”

Xue Shuyan’s customary long sword was already sheathed and placed to the side, with no intention of being drawn. Instead, she held her ever-present Yanling blade, meticulously wiping it with a clean, soft cloth. Her intense focus made anyone standing nearby feel an overwhelming pressure. With each wipe, the blade, which should have been an ordinary weapon commonly seen among the Hu people, seemed to gleam with a hidden brilliance. Much like Xue Shuyan herself, who appeared unremarkable aside from her aloof demeanor, this very person, after years of honing and tempering, had forced much of the Central Plains martial world to yield before her blade, with no one daring to challenge her edge.

However, just as dripping water can wear through stone and gentleness can overcome strength, even the most tempered steel must yield when faced with its destined match. This was precisely the dynamic between Xue Shuyan and Du Yunge.

After Du Yunge’s question, the top young talent of the Central Plains martial world and the senior disciple of the Miaoyin Sect finally set down her Yanling blade and the cloth. She turned to Du Yunge and said:

“Not just today. We won’t be practicing anymore from now on.”

Du Yunge’s heart sank. This was currently her most proficient sword technique. If Xue Shuyan refused to practice it with her or act as her protector, she would lose her most crucial line of defense! The world outside, as the guardians had hinted, was far from peaceful. Had it been the era of peace and prosperity she’d read about in books, she wouldn’t have hesitated to venture down the mountain with her mediocre skills or even without any skills at all. But the current circumstances simply didn’t allow for such recklessness.

However, Xue Shuyan never acted without reason. Taking a moment to calm herself and gather her thoughts, Du Yunge asked,
“Then, Senior Sister, what sword technique do you think we should practice instead?”

To an outsider, the scene would have been undeniably ominous: a woman wiping her blade mechanically, her face expressionless, while casually remarking, “You won’t have the chance to use it again.” Such words, though seemingly innocuous at first, carried a chilling implication upon reflection suggesting debt collection, long-held grudges, or worse, impending bloodshed.

But in truth, Xue Shuyan was merely nervous about the important matter she was about to broach. Only someone as naive as Du Yunge would fail to interpret the scene in a more sinister light.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but Du Yunge thought she detected a fleeting, almost imperceptible shift in Xue Shuyan’s expression, a hint of regret, tinged with inexplicable frustration, as if disappointed by something.

Immediately, Du Yunge began scrutinizing her own behavior: I haven’t slacked off today. I completed all the tasks assigned by Senior Sister and Guardian Chun. Though I’m not yet fully adept at handling the affairs of the Miaoyin Sect, I can already understand many account books with Guardian Qiu’s guidance. I haven’t had any contact with He Zhenzhen or anyone from other sects. So why is Senior Sister still upset?

Just as Du Yunge was racking her brains for an answer, Xue Shuyan broke the silence with an explanation:
“Dual Sword Harmony, it’s not suitable. It’s inappropriate.”

There’s a saying: The more you use your brain, the sharper it becomes.
Similarly, eloquence is a skill not to be underestimated. History boasts figures like Zhu Zhiwu, who persuaded a Qin army of 100,000 to retreat, and Mao Sui, who volunteered to negotiate with the King of Qin on behalf of Lord Pingyuan. Such mastery requires years of practice and accumulation. Conversely, if someone grows accustomed to keeping everything bottled up, even when they wish to speak the truth, the words may not come easily.

This was precisely Xue Shuyan’s predicament. She felt she had been clear enough: Dual Sword Harmony emphasized the word “harmony.” Throughout history, those who mastered this technique were either blood-related siblings or devoted lovers who had faced life and death together. For her and Du Yunge to practice it felt subtly improper, lacking the justification such a bond required.

But the person she was speaking to was Du Yunge.

Du Yunge was utterly obedient to Xue Shuyan, never treating her as an outsider. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have confided only in Xue Shuyan after discovering that “there might be a traitor in the Miaoyin Sect.” When it came to martial arts, a field she was not particularly skilled in, she followed Xue Shuyan’s every word without question, nodding eagerly in agreement:

“Senior Sister is absolutely brilliant! Whatever Senior Sister says goes!”

This remark left Xue Shuyan momentarily speechless. After a long pause, she finally asked, “Aren’t you going to ask why we’re suddenly stopping the practice of dual swordsmanship?”

Du Yunge replied with surprise, “Well, I know Senior Sister must have my best interests at heart. Why should I waste energy worrying about trivial matters and burden you with explanations? It’s better to leave all martial arts decisions to you. Once you decide what I should practice, I’ll start anew.”

She stole a glance at Xue Shuyan’s expression and suddenly felt uneasy. Xue Shuyan’s face did not soften in response to her heartfelt words; instead, it grew even more inscrutable. But Du Yunge had already reached the limits of her eloquence on the matter there was only so much truth one could speak about the same issue. In her anxious state, she was met with Xue Shuyan’s resigned sigh:

“If that’s the case, so be it.”

Xue Shuyan selected a fan from the nearby weapon rack and handed it to Du Yunge, patiently instructing her: “Guardian Dong is not skilled with short weapons, so today I will teach you.”

“When you wield long weapons like swords or sabers, remember the saying, ‘An inch longer, an inch stronger.’ The greater the reach of the blade, the more unstoppable its force. But now that you’re holding a short weapon, the principle becomes ‘An inch shorter, an inch riskier.’ The shorter the weapon, the closer you must get to your opponent in combat. The closer you are, the more you’re gambling with your life and all you’ve learned ‘Fortune favors the bold’ encapsulates this idea.”

“The edges of this iron fan are sharp. When open, it can slash horizontally or vertically, using its sharpness to repel enemies. When closed, it can be used to poke, hook, or flick, much like a judge’s pen. Give it a try.”

Despite Xue Shuyan’s earnest teaching, Du Yunge showed little talent in this area, merely repeating the same futile efforts as before. After practicing together all morning, the two walked side by side out of the training hall. Xue Shuyan was headed to soak in a medicinal bath to heal her old injuries, while Du Yunge planned to visit Feng Chengchun to finish reading the book she hadn’t completed the previous day. That was how it was supposed to go. During the mountain closure, no outsiders could ascend, and members of the Miaoyin Sect couldn’t descend, resulting in a peace so profound it bordered on monotony. Each day followed the same repetitive routine, and Du Yunge could probably walk from the training hall to Feng Chengchun’s place with her eyes closed without tripping over a single threshold.

What sent this mundane daily life veering off course, hurtling in an unsettling direction, was a sudden, whimsical question from Du Yunge:

“Senior Sister, I’ve heard that true masters can injure others even with a flower petal or a leaf. Is that really true?”

Xue Shuyan thought to herself that you’ve certainly asked the right person. Given Xue Shuyan’s current level, forget about plucking flowers and sending leaves flying even without a weapon in hand, she could release her inner energy to create sharp gusts of wind, forcing others to keep their distance. However, such a boastful display didn’t suit the ever-expressionless Xue Shuyan. So she nodded reservedly and said calmly:

“Naturally.”

“I really envy you, Senior Sister,” Du Yunge said as she passed by the red plum tree Xue Shuyan had specially transplanted up the mountain for her. She casually plucked a blossom and balanced it on her fingertip, admiring it delicately. Her slender, pale fingers against the vibrant red of the plum blossom created a breathtakingly pure beauty:

“I’m afraid things like flowers and plants will never achieve the same effect in my hands as they do in yours. At most, I can play the qin, burn incense, and perhaps pretentiously recite poetry all mere affectations. I truly envy you, Senior Sister, for never being limited by external constraints. This must be what it means to have the heart follow intention, and intention follow the heart, right?”

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