The Cold, Aloof Senior Sister Deserves To Be Paired With A Peerless Beauty - Chapter 22

Who does she like today?

A gentle breeze brushed across the lake, sending delicate ripples across the crystal-clear surface. The water shimmered with a radiant luster, making the fish swimming beneath look as if they were bathing in pure light.

Amidst the lingering mist, a figure sat poised upon the shore. Her features were like a painting cold, elegant, and ethereal. As her hair fluttered in the wind, she looked less like a mortal and more like an unreachable deity from the ninth heaven, or perhaps a snowflake atop a frozen mountain that would melt at a single touch.

Spiritual energy swirled around her, absorbed in an instant only to be replaced by an even more potent surge of vitality.

As she cultivated, the fish beneath the surface seemed to draw near out of curiosity, fanning their fins as they approached her slender silhouette. They showed no fear; instead, they seemed emboldened and cheered by the stray wisps of energy radiating from her. Small splashes of water occasionally leaped from the surface, dampening the hem of her robes.

At that moment, the figure on the shore opened her eyes. The morning light fell upon her, making her pupils appear as clear and beautiful as amber, yet they held a depth so profound that one could easily lose themselves within them.

From the corner of her eye, Chi Li noticed the gathering fish. Her expression softened, and she looked down at them for a long moment. She reached out, her fingertips grazing the water. The sudden chill made her pause, and the shadows cast by her eyelashes hid the thoughts swirling in her mind.

Just then, a faint murmur drifted from beside her a muddled, incoherent string of words, the sound of someone reluctant to wake from a dream.

Chi Li’s thoughts snapped back to the present. Her fingertips brushed against the slimy scales of a fish, causing her hand to stiffen for a fleeting second for reasons she couldn’t quite name. She withdrew her hand and turned her gaze toward the nearby clearing.

There, two or three layers of bedding had been carefully laid out. The person sleeping atop them felt no discomfort; in fact, the familiar scent surrounding her provided a profound sense of security.

The figure shifted under the covers but showed no intention of getting up. Habitually, she mumbled a few words. Chi Li didn’t need to guess their meaning, the girl simply wanted to sleep a little longer.

Chi Li was long accustomed to Mu Zhi’s behavior. She didn’t try to drag her up to join the morning cultivation; instead, she watched her with a gaze full of warmth and indulgence.

Perhaps sensing Chi Li’s gaze, or perhaps because she wasn’t used to sleeping in the open air despite the comforts provided, Mu Zhi finally began to stir.

Waking with a dazed expression, Mu Zhi looked around at her surroundings with messy hair. She rubbed her eyes with the lethargic grace of a lazy kitten, whispering softly to herself.

“Where is this? Why wasn’t I sleeping in my room?”

She wasn’t panicked, merely confused by the unfamiliar environment, before letting out a slow yawn.

“You’re awake,” a cool, clear voice drifted over. It was as gentle as a spring breeze, carrying no hint of reproach.

Recognizing Chi Li’s voice, Mu Zhi’s lingering traces of fear vanished completely. She buried her face back into the fragrant, soft silk quilt, making her hair even more disheveled. Her voice was muffled, yet carried a hint of a pout.

“Why did Senior Sister wake up so early?”

Mu Zhi pursed her lips, yet she held not a shred of resentment toward Chi Li for bringing her here.

Looking at the figure huddled in the blankets, Chi Li felt her heart soften. The stray tufts of hair made Mu Zhi look like a pampered cat. In truth, the cold interrogation Chi Li had planned had already dissolved. Her voice remained like a mountain stream cool and crisp but it was now laced with resignation.

“Mu Zhi, have you calmed down now?”

At Chi Li’s words, Mu Zhi lifted her head from the quilt. The corners of her eyes were tinged with a faint redness, making her look like a delicate flower bud, an image that naturally commanded attention.

“Calmed down about what?”

Mu Zhi’s voice was husky from sleep, mixed with genuine confusion. She hadn’t yet fully recovered from her hangover, and for a moment, she couldn’t grasp the meaning behind Chi Li’s question.

Chi Li didn’t answer. Instead, she shifted her gaze away from Mu Zhi toward a nearby empty wine jar that had been carefully put aside.

Mu Zhi followed her gaze. When she saw the familiar jar, her memories came rushing back like a tidal wave, crashing through her mind. Forcing herself to remain steady, she stole a glance at Chi Li. Seeing that the elder woman’s expression was calm, Mu Zhi let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Chi Li wasn’t in a hurry. When Mu Zhi didn’t speak, she didn’t press her. She closed her eyes again, her face returning to its usual unreadable state.

On the other side, Mu Zhi unconsciously gripped the corner of her quilt, her fingers wrinkling the soft fabric. She bit her lip before finally whispering a single word.

“Cold…”

It was a clumsy, almost embarrassing attempt to change the subject. Realizing this, Mu Zhi buried her face deeper into the blankets, looking like a wilted flower swaying in the wind.

Chi Li said nothing, but the spiritual energy surrounding her began to warm the air, subtly adjusting the temperature until it was perfectly comfortable for Mu Zhi.

Chi Li could be a strict teacher, but when they were alone and not practicing, she treated Mu Zhi like a precious flower that required meticulous care.

Mu Zhi didn’t notice the change in the air. She knew that changing the subject wouldn’t work; it only made her look cowardly. While she didn’t know exactly what kind of person Chi Li liked, she was certain Chi Li wouldn’t care for someone who did nothing but run away.

Deep in her eyes, a conflict raged.

Chi Li sensed Mu Zhi’s hesitation. The words of “love” Mu Zhi had drunkenly muttered the night before had settled in her heart. Over the course of the night, those words had transformed from a tiny needle into a sharp blade, carving at her chest and leaving her with an unspeakable sense of suffocation.

Mu Zhi kept her eyes lowered, her mind racing. Terrified that Chi Li might grow to loathe her, she forced herself to recall every detail of the previous night, searching for a way out.

The wine jar was empty, but she had only taken two sips; the rest had been accidentally spilled. Last night, she had been trying consciously or not to test Chi Li’s feelings for her. Clearly, the result hadn’t been what she hoped for, and she had used a “fainting spell” to delay her own “execution.”

Suddenly, Mu Zhi’s brow furrowed. She had found a loophole in her memory. She pursed her lips and looked up at the figure sitting in quiet meditation, finally asking hesitantly:

“Does Senior Sister know… who it is that I like?”

At that question, Chi Li’s eyes snapped open. Their gazes met, each seeing their own reflection in the other’s pupils. Chi Li’s brow knit together, her voice losing its warmth and taking on a sharp edge of displeasure she didn’t even realize was there.

“Mu Zhi, Mo Fan is not a good person. He is not someone to be pitied; his ‘misery’ only brings misfortune to others.”

By the end of her sentence, Chi Li’s voice had risen, her tone stern and warning.

Mu Zhi’s eyes widened in shock. Realizing that Chi Li had completely misunderstood the object of her affection, the heavy weight in her heart suddenly vanished. She relaxed instantly.

Mu Zhi stared at Chi Li, her eyes filled with earnestness as she denied the accusation word for word.

“I don’t like him. Not even a little. The people Senior Sister hates are the people I hate most.”

Chi Li froze. The conviction in Mu Zhi’s voice was impossible to doubt.

“Truly?”

“Yes,” Mu Zhi added, her voice dropping to a whisper as she averted her eyes. “He isn’t even half as beautiful as the person I actually love.”

Upon hearing the initial assurance, a flicker of satisfaction and a strange, unrecognized joy sparked in Chi Li’s eyes. But before that happiness could take root, Mu Zhi’s final sentence caused her to feel as though she had been plunged back into the depths of the icy lake.

“A sweetheart?” Chi Li spoke with hesitation, her brow furrowing even deeper.

Mu Zhi looked at Chi Li again, her beautiful peach-blossom eyes shimmering with a faint, lingering shyness, yet her words were incredibly firm.

“Yes. My sweetheart.”

Being watched by Mu Zhi like this, Chi Li almost thought for a fleeting moment that the person Mu Zhi spoke of was herself. But the second the thought appeared, Chi Li immediately dismissed it.

However, that denial caused a dense, prickling ache to rise in her heart. It wasn’t the sharp pain of a physical wound; it was a dull throb that spread from nowhere into her very marrow. She couldn’t find its source, nor could she find a way to block it out. She could only endure the discomfort in silence.

“Does Senior Sister want to know who it is?” Mu Zhi asked, her eyes filled with anticipation.

Chi Li remained silent for a long while before speaking indifferently.

“I do not.”

There was a trace of wilfulness in her voice that she didn’t even recognize herself. Without waiting for Mu Zhi to respond, she closed her eyes, searching her memories of both her past and present lives. She wondered what she had missed, how could Mu Zhi have a sweetheart she had no recollection of?

Mu Zhi naturally noticed the strange look on Chi Li’s face. A surge of joy hit her heart, yet she deliberately refrained from revealing the identity of her love. Feigning a look of dejection, she spoke.

“Alright. If Senior Sister doesn’t want to know, I won’t say.”

Mu Zhi’s words made it impossible for Chi Li, who was trying to settle into meditation, to find any peace. She wanted to ask, but knowing the person wasn’t Mo Fan, she felt she no longer had the standing to pry. She could only sit there, nursing a silent, sulky anger.

Nearby, Mu Zhi wanted to say more, but she felt the comfortable temperature of the air suddenly drop a few degrees, as if someone were throwing a silent tantrum.

Even though she had been misunderstood and lectured by Chi Li, Mu Zhi sincerely did not want to tell her the truth just yet. Still, she took the initiative to break the silence.

“Where are we?”

As she spoke, Mu Zhi climbed down from the three layers of bedding and stepped lightly toward Chi Li. She leaned in close, tracing Chi Li’s features with her eyes from her brow to her lips. Every detail was enough to make her heart skip with joy.

Chi Li did not open her eyes, but she answered in a low voice.

“This is the place where I usually cultivate.”

A spark flickered in Mu Zhi’s eyes as she asked, “Does that mean no one else ever comes here?”

Chi Li did not like others approaching her personal space, not her living quarters, and certainly not her place of cultivation.

She slowly opened her eyes to meet Mu Zhi’s smile, but she looked away a moment later. “Are you not here right now?”

Having received the answer she wanted, Mu Zhi nodded. “True.”

Mu Zhi crouched down beside Chi Li, her fingertips grazing the cool water. The fish proactively swam toward her, their scales brushing against her hand with a ticklish sensation.

Chi Li frowned. “This is a place for cultivation.”

She felt a sense of gloom in her heart, yet she couldn’t identify exactly what was bothering her.

Mu Zhi, on the other hand, was in high spirits. She obediently scooted closer to Chi Li’s side, her smile radiant and her voice dripping with sweetness.

“I know~”

Mu Zhi was naturally gifted. Without needing Chi Li’s painstaking explanations, she began to find her own way. As the spiritual energy gathered within her body, Mu Zhi felt a sense of novelty. Her eyes lit up instantly, and she looked at Chi Li with an expectant gaze.

Being watched like this, Chi Li felt something was “off.” It wasn’t physical discomfort, but a sensation that was difficult to put into words.

Coming back to her senses, Chi Li’s eyes filled with satisfaction. She spoke to the girl beside her.

“You did very well.”

She rarely praised others. When she said those words, a faint smile graced her lips, a sight others never saw, reserved for only one person.

Hearing the praise, Mu Zhi’s smile became bright and bold. While Chi Li had her eyes closed, Mu Zhi secretly leaned even closer to her.

Sensing the movement, Chi Li’s brow twitched imperceptibly, but she made no move to stop her, allowing Mu Zhi to remain by her side.

By the time they both opened their eyes from their meditation, the horizon was stained with the crimson remnants of the sunset.

The Qingshuang Sword beside Chi Li reflected a cold light, though it was tinged with a vivid red by the evening glow. Mu Zhi’s eyes flickered with an unreadable thought then, seeing that Chi Li had finished, she unhesitatingly grabbed onto Chi Li’s arm.

Chi Li was used to Mu Zhi’s physical affection, but this time, knowing Mu Zhi had a “sweetheart,” her body stiffened at the contact. Ultimately, however, she couldn’t bring herself to push her away.

“Senior Sister, teach me swordsmanship.”

Chi Li smiled faintly. “Aren’t you tired?”

Mu Zhi shook her head, her expression becoming even more pleading. “Senior Sister said it herself: it’s never a bad thing to be strong.”

Chi Li understood the underlying meaning. Although it wasn’t quite time to teach Mu Zhi sword techniques, she found it impossible to refuse. Resigned, she stood up and took her sword to a spot where she was certain she wouldn’t accidentally hurt Mu Zhi.

With a flick of her wrist, Chi Li spun her sword. The movements were like frost and snow fluttering down graceful, effortless, and precise. Though the forms were beautiful, they were far from mere “flowery” displays; every strike carried a sharp, piercing intent.

Against the setting sun, Chi Li’s silhouette looked like a shadow play before Mu Zhi’s eyes.

She sheathed her sword and walked back to Mu Zhi. Meeting the girl’s eyes, Chi Li felt her composure waver. To hide her inner turmoil, she spoke as calmly as possible.

“Did you remember everything?”

Mu Zhi rested her chin in her hands and looked up at Chi Li. After a brief moment of reflection, she said, “I remember.”

Chi Li knew Mu Zhi had a great memory, so she didn’t doubt her. She seemed to remember something else and spoke again.

“I have to leave for a few days. I hope that by the time I return, you will have reached the Foundation Establishment stage.”

In the previous life, it hadn’t taken Mu Zhi long to reach that stage. Chi Li believed this time would be no different.

Mu Zhi asked curiously, “Where are you going?”

Since Chi Li was so certain of her potential, Mu Zhi saw no reason to doubt herself either.

Chi Li looked into the distance, her gaze seemingly fixed on something far away. Finally, her voice drifted into Mu Zhi’s ear along with the wind.

“Phoenix City.”