The Cold And Aloof Senior Sister Keeps Flirting With Me - Chapter 6

Yan Jue wandered through the market for a long while before finally finding what she needed a medicine stall.

The one tending it was a pheasant demon, who asked blankly, “What kind of medicine do you want?”

Yan Jue replied, “Do you have any healing medicine? For example… say someone got stabbed in the abdomen a long wound like this.”

Everyone said demons were capable of anything maybe one really had such a thing.

The pheasant demon said, “Sure.”

Yan Jue: “!!!”

It whispered something to the spirit beast beside it. The beast turned around, munched on a few things, then tensed its hind legs as if straining and promptly excreted a light blue pill.

Yan Jue was stunned. She had read enough cultivation novels to know that pills were usually refined from spiritual herbs and materials not, well, produced like this.

So that creature must be a rare and precious one indeed.

The pheasant demon said, “This will heal wounds, stop bleeding, and even has the power to revive the dead.”

Yan Jue had no hairpin to pay with, so she untied the pouch at her waist. “Can I trade this?”

The pheasant demon shook its head. “Not enough. Young lady, my spirit beast here is a rare medicinal beast from the Northern Realm everything it produces is of the highest quality!”

Yan Jue had to take out her Qiankun pouch, pour out all she had ten low grade spirit stones, her pouch, and her handkerchief. At last, she managed to exchange them for one pill.

All in all, it was still cheap though a bit suspicious. But it was late, and she had no better option.

On her way back to Drunken Spring Pavilion, Yan Jue took out her command talisman.

The killer’s movements were swift and agile clearly an expert in lightness skill.

Her own cultivation was only at early Foundation Establishment, and even with her fox demon bloodline aiding her, she couldn’t keep up. That meant the attacker’s cultivation must be at least mid-Foundation.

So the intel had been wrong.

This mission’s difficulty was far beyond what a beginner’s assignment should be.

Yan Jue carefully poured her spiritual sense into the talisman, describing her current situation in detail, and begged for reinforcements from the Hall of Affairs.

She knew it was naive no one cared about low rank missions.

But she still held onto that fragile hope.

Back at the pavilion, Yan Jue went straight to Rouyi’s quarters the Morning Glow Hall.

Earlier, when the killer struck, the madam had managed to suppress the news, but tonight Rouyi’s screams had shaken the entire building.

A crowd gathered outside the hall.

“Not again! Another death? Didn’t that courtesan die just half a year ago?”

“This place is cursed! I’m not coming back here. Anyone know another pleasure house in town?”

“There’s a new one across the street Emerald Mist Pavilion! I heard it’s nice!”

The madam’s face was ashen as she shouted, “Please don’t panic! I’ve already invited an immortal master from Mount Wulong you’ll all get a proper explanation!”

Just as she spoke, the door creaked open.

A young woman of about sixteen or seventeen stepped in. She wore a pale red skirt and a gold collar with three tiny bells that chimed with each step.

Her lips were red, her teeth white, her wrists like snow.

The madam’s face wrinkled further as she hurried forward and grabbed Yan Jue’s hand, whispering, “Immortal, did you catch the killer?”

Yan Jue said flatly, “…No.”

The madam looked crushed. “Why did the killer go after Rou Yi tonight instead of the Cinnabar Palace?!”

She wrung her hands, nearly shrieking, “The man with her tonight was a nobleman from the capital! Oh heavens, I shouldn’t have arranged it! If his family comes looking for trouble, what do I do?!”

The killer had been striking for half a year now every victim’s heart gouged out.

When Yan Jue entered earlier, she had indeed seen a man lying in a pool of blood likely the one who had shielded Rouyi and taken the fatal blow.

“Is he still alive?” she asked.

“Barely. But not for long,” the madam said bleakly.

Yan Jue followed her in.

The room was a mess.

Rouyi stood by the door, weeping softly, her clothes disheveled and hair tangled.

On the bed lay the man, his breathing faint. His abdomen was gashed open, blood seeping through the makeshift bandage.

Yan Jue shut the door, cutting everyone off, and took out the blue pill she’d just bought at the Demon Market.

The pheasant demon had claimed it could heal any wound probably exaggerated, but…

Well, desperate times.

She fed the pill to the man. He groaned weakly.

To her shock, the terrible wound began to knit itself together closing, healing until only a thin scar remained.

She opened the door.

The madam rushed up. “Immortal! Will he live?”

Yan Jue hesitated. She wasn’t any “immortal” just a low ranked disciple from Mount Wulong.

She’d meant only to go through the motions but seeing everyone’s desperate, trusting eyes changed something in her.

Even if this mission was already a failure, she would see it through.

This wasn’t just a task it was her responsibility.

For some reason, she thought of Hengjun, that cold, distant master high above the clouds.

Did she ever feel like this, during her training?

Yan Jue said softly, “I gave him a pill. His wound is healing. He’ll live.”

The madam’s eyes lit up. “Truly?! Oh, thank the heavens thank you, immortal!”

Yan Jue stood in the corridor, frowning in thought.

She recalled reading that some demonic arts required precise timing and materials if the ritual failed once, the next opportunity wouldn’t come for a month.

The killer, having failed tonight and wounded, might be hiding and waiting for the next cycle.

A month passed.

The man who had taken the blow slowly recovered, while Yan Jue waited in vain for any reply from Wulong Sect.

As she expected no one cared about an outer disciple’s plea for help.

Meanwhile

The skies were dusky yellow.

Qi Xianqing walked along a bridge, dressed in white battle robes, black hair tied with a simple pin. Her bearing was cold and ethereal, yet sharp as a blade.

The black sword on her back gleamed faintly under the sunset.

An old man trembled beside her.

“Immortal… our entire village was slaughtered by the demonic cult. I had thought all hope was lost… thank you, truly.”

Qi Xianqing smiled faintly. “No need. It was my duty.”

They soon reached the pass at Shanhai Gate beyond it lay the Central Plains.

Qi Xianqing turned to him gently. “You should head back. You’ve come far enough.”

The old man looked at her pure, youthful face and teared up. “If I could, I’d see you all the way to Mount Wulong itself.”

Qi Xianqing laid a hand on his shoulder. “Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say. When you do, you’ll be home.”

He obeyed. She muttered an incantation.

A fierce wind howled then fell still.

“Grandpa! Grandpa!”

He opened his eyes to find himself back in his small fishing village.

His grandson ran up, asking, “Grandpa, was that lady really an immortal?”

“She’s a cultivator.”

“But she didn’t seem that different from us,” the boy said. “She even patted my head like my big sister does.”

“Your sister’s only twenty…”

The old man sighed, looking toward the mountains. “Cultivators are human too. Calm as she was, she’s still just a young girl.”

Qi Xianqing crossed the gate and flew onward on her sword.

Suddenly, her command talisman vibrated.

She sent her spiritual sense into it. A deep, old voice spoke:

“Xianqing, will your route pass through Qingye Town?”

“It will.”

“There’s been a distress signal from a Wulong Sect outer disciple stationed there. The message was delayed it’s been a month with no reply. Go and see if she’s alive or dead.”

Outer disciples’ missions were often dangerous and an unanswered plea usually meant death.

Outer disciples were the lowest rank of all: talentless nobles, rich brats, or those with family connections.

If one died it hardly mattered.

“If she’s dead,” the voice added, “collect her body.”

Qi Xianqing’s divine sense flickered. She read the name and narrowed her eyes slightly Yan Jue.

Yan Jue was losing hope.

Time kept slipping by. Her talisman would soon expire, and Wulong Sect had not replied once.

She practiced her Calming Heart Mantra daily, keeping her demon aura suppressed.

Every day she swung her issued iron sword, practicing her sword forms.

She had fully adapted to life here now.

She also studied True Edict: Foundation Basics.

But her aptitude was poor she couldn’t move the sword even an inch with her mind.

No hope of advancing to mid-Foundation.

Still, she wasn’t disheartened. For a background cannon fodder like her, maybe flashy sword arts were never meant to be.

Would she really have to absorb men’s yang energy to grow stronger? No! There had to be another way!

A month later it was the second day again.

The killer’s cycle.

Yan Jue dressed seductively, preparing to lure her target.

The madam had arranged a client for her though how to trick the killer into showing himself was up to her.

She lay on the bed, fists clenched.

If Wulong Sect wouldn’t help her she’d rely on herself.

A knock came.

Bang, bang, bang.

“Miss Wenxiang,” called the madam outside, “this is your guest for the night.”

Yan Jue lifted her gaze and froze.

A pair of embroidered silk shoes.

A hem of ice blue fabric.

A woman stepped in serene and beautiful, her skirt swaying lightly, her every movement elegant.

She sat by the table, calm and watchful, eyes like still water.

Yan Jue’s mind went blank.

How could it be her?!

That wasn’t a client it was Qi Xianqing, her sect’s senior sister!

Qi Xianqing rested an arm on the table, pale skin like snow.

Even dressed in an ordinary gown, she was breathtaking.

Yan Jue forced a smile. “O-okay, my lady, please wait a moment I’ll be right back.”

She rushed out to the madam, whispering, “Mama, she’s in the wrong room!”

The madam blinked. “No, she asked for you by name! Lots of young ladies like pretty girls these days just play along. I’m counting on you, immortal.”

Only Yan Jue knew how wrong that was.

“…”

Back in the room, she glanced at Qi Xianqing her legs trembling.

Qi Xianqing took a sip of tea, voice cool, slightly impatient: “No need to be nervous, Junior Sister Yan. Just tell me what you wrote in your talisman.”

Yan Jue suddenly understood.

The Hall of Affairs had sent help and it was her senior sister herself!

Overwhelmed, she dropped to her knees on the carpet, bowing low. “Senior Sister, I ran into trouble during my mission please, you have to help me!”

Qi Xianqing paused, eyes narrowing.

Yan Jue explained everything every detail of the case.

Qi Xianqing, seasoned as she was, listened calmly.

Yan Jue’s forehead was damp with sweat, her body trembling her fox bloodline made her acutely sensitive to Qi Xianqing’s scent, her heartbeat erratic.

From Qi Xianqing’s view, the girl’s flushed face and trembling throat were strangely delicate.

The little gold collar at her neck jingled softly painfully alluring.

Yan Jue said breathlessly, “Senior Sister, that killer is fast impossible to catch head on. I’ll have the madam bring a man here, I’ll knock him out and pretend to… entertain him, to lure the killer in. You can hide behind the screen and strike when he appears.”

It was a solid plan.

Qi Xianqing looked faintly surprised she hadn’t expected such careful thought from an outer disciple.

Then she said lightly, “No need for all that trouble.”

She suddenly stood, grabbed Yan Jue by the collar and slammed her down onto the bed.