There Is No Romance Between Me And My Junior Sister - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Counterfeit and the Past

I heard the ‘Radiant One’ has arrived in Yangyang.

It was mid-afternoon, and the tavern was bustling with people. Even those least concerned with worldly affairs felt their expressions shift at those words, their attention snapping toward the old storyteller.

The Radiant One? That demonic cultivator who can command Heavenly Fire?

Who else could it be!

The tavern erupted like a boiling pot. Many looked fearful, while the more cautious remained skeptical. “You shouldn’t spread such rumors lightly. Why would the Radiant One leave the Land of Demons, the Yellow Springs of the Firmament, and come to Yanyang at a time like this?”

True…” Struck by the weight of the phrase “at a time like this,” more people chimed in. “Coming to Yanyang now—isn’t that just walking into a trap?

In less than ten days, the Great Heavens Sect is hosting the Discussion of the Dao right here in Yanyang. Cultivators from every immortal sect are gathering as we speak. How would the Radiant One dare show her face?

Before the panic could subside, the old storyteller shook his head solemnly. “This isn’t just a baseless rumor. Someone saw the Radiant One with their own eyes on the outskirts of Yanyang yesterday. The news will likely spread through the city soon.”

Wearing a white jade mask, wielding the Eternal Flame.” He stroked his beard and sighed. “Aside from the Radiant One, it could be no one else.

The tavern fell silent for a moment before hushed whispers broke out. Most discussed things like, “She must be here for the Heart-Dao Lotus Seed, the grand prize of the tournament,” or “Good, the righteous sects haven’t caught her in years; this is the perfect chance.” Amidst the noise, someone muttered: “This Radiant One… is it a man or a woman? Are they good-looking?”

A wave of laughter filled the room. The storyteller chuckled, cleared his throat, and returned to his professional tone.

This guest might not know, but the Radiant One is incredibly mysterious. Forget her looks—no one even knows her true name.

In her few appearances, she always wears that white jade mask. To this day, no one has successfully glimpsed her true face. Plenty who tried ended up as nothing but a pile of ash burned by Heavenly Fire.

However, according to those who have crossed paths with her, she is undoubtedly a woman.

Seven years ago, during the civil war within the Yellow Springs demon race, the Radiant One appeared out of nowhere. With lightning-fast methods, she helped the Demon Lord, Wan Shao, suppress the rebellion. Boundless fire-stars fell from the sky; it didn’t look like a war, but a dazzling display of fireworks. Yet in a single night, the rebels were annihilated. The Heavenly Fire burned for three days and nights, lighting up the eternal darkness of the Yellow Springs.”

Those who witnessed her summoning the fire said that although she is a demon, her peerless grace and brilliant aura deserve the classic line: ‘What night is this, to meet such a radiant one?

Old gentleman.

The storyteller was abruptly cut off just as he was getting started. Just as irritation flared in his heart, he saw a woman walk slowly toward him. She placed a silver ingot on the table and pushed it toward him.

“Why talk about such boring things?” The woman’s voice trailed off lazily, carrying an air of playful cynicism. “The weather is so lovely today. Why not tell us something… a bit less mood-killing?”

The storyteller was secretly shocked by the weight of the silver. Knowing that anyone appearing in Yanyang on the eve of the Dao Discussion was likely a prominent figure from a sect, he instinctively sized her up… only to find her quite ordinary.

The woman wore a moon-white robe with a nondescript silk pouch at her waist. Her attire was somewhat refined, but her face was plain—the kind of face that would vanish in a crowd without leaving an impression.

Only her eyes were crystal clear and exceptionally beautiful, looking somewhat out of place on such an average face.

With this in mind, the storyteller didn’t dare be disrespectful. He chuckled, accepted the silver, and caught a glimpse of her hand as she withdrew it—slender but not frail, with well-proportioned bones and fair skin.

That should be a hand meant for holding a sword, he thought.

Having made his assessment, he cupped his hands in thanks and decisively changed the subject, speaking loudly once more.

“On such a fine day, this old man shouldn’t spoil everyone’s appetite with stories of demonic cultivators.”

“Since the sky is high and the clouds are light today, let us speak of a cultivator who has risen to fame in the last two years. The one from the Immortal Mountain of Qingyu, the first disciple of the Yuheng Peak Master Wang Yue, wielder of the Carefree Sword, the ethereal—”

The Radiant One’s fierce reputation was not something ordinary tavern-goers could handle. The storyteller only used her name as a “hook.” Now that someone had paid handsomely to hear something else, he was happy to oblige.

While the audience still felt a lingering fear, they remembered that Yanyang was currently packed with cultivators and protected by the famous Great Heavens Sect. They soon tossed their worries aside and listened to the new story with great interest.

The storyteller was skilled, and within a few sentences, he had the crowd enthralled. In the heat of the narration, he noticed the woman from before didn’t stay to listen. She left the tavern silently.

If she was going to leave, why waste the silver? He muttered to himself about how the whims of cultivators were impossible to fathom, then quickly put the matter out of his mind.

The woman walked quickly out of the tavern, circled aimlessly through the busy streets of Yanyang for a while, and finally bought a bag of sugar cakes from a roadside stall. Eating as she walked, she entered an inn and made her way familiarly to the door of the “Heaven” rank suite. She pushed the door open forcefully and shouted with exaggerated drama:

“This is bad! I heard someone saw the Radiant One on the outskirts of Yanyang yesterday!”

“?! Why are you shouting? Are you sick—huh? What?”

Inside the room, a woman leaning seductively against the headboard while reading a book was startled so badly her book fell onto the bed. She was about to snap in anger when she froze, her glamorous and charming face showing confusion as she stared at the door.

I said, yesterday someone saw the Radi.

Keep your voice down, will you!

Terrified of her shouting, the woman hissed through gritted teeth, scrambled off the bed, and dragged the newcomer inside. She peeked out the door to check the hallway before carefully locking it. Only then did she turn to the person who had already naturally sat down at the table to drink tea.

Someone saw the Radiant One? Yesterday?

“Yeah,” the newcomer replied through a mouthful of sugar cake and tea. She then changed her tone to mimic the storyteller vividly: “Wearing a white jade mask, wielding the Eternal Flame—genuine as a fake can be, guaranteed to fool everyone.”

The woman whose room had been hijacked stood by the door, arms crossed, her beautiful eyes narrowing dangerously. She marched forward, snatched the silk pouch from the other’s waist, and shook it upside down. Instantly, several items—clearly too large for the pouch’s size—clattered onto the table.

Ignoring the rest, the woman picked up one specific object and thrust it in front of the other’s face.

“Did you go wild in the suburbs behind my back yesterday?”

“We were both in the Yellow Springs packing our bags yesterday. we only got to Yanyang today. Use your brain, Wan Shao.”

“Oh.” Wan Shao gave a blank response, then suddenly flared up in anger. “Then when did you sneak over yesterday? Shang Can, have you always been this fast on your feet?”

“…”

Shang Can looked at her with pity and sighed.

“Seriously, Wan Shao, I think if you personally visited every sect and chatted with them, everyone would finally understand what kind of place the Yellow Springs actually is.”

She reached out and snatched the white jade mask that Wan Shao was holding, stuffing it and the other items back into the pouch. She said frankly:

“I wasn’t in Yanyang yesterday. I don’t know who they saw.”

“If I had the ability to travel between the Yellow Springs and Yanyang overnight without anyone knowing, would I really need to go through all this trouble to forge an identity to participate in this Dao Discussion?”

Shang Can—the demonic cultivator “Radiant One” feared by the tavern crowd—and Wan Shao—the Demon Lord of the Yellow Springs—looked at each other and scrunched up their faces in unison.

“…True.” Wan Shao finally figured it out and nodded in agreement. “In that case, you could just sneak into the Great Heavens Sect and steal the Heart-Dao Lotus Seed directly. Why is someone impersonating you at a time like this? If the righteous cultivators kill the fake, they better not try to blame us at the Yellow Springs.”

“Is that your only takeaway? As expected of the Demon Lord.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Yes.”

Ignoring Wan Shao’s look that suggested she wanted to pounce and strangle her, Shang Can looked out the window, lost in thought.

They had only arrived in Yanyang from the Yellow Springs today. Before they could even finish a meal, they heard someone was impersonating her yesterday… Shang Can frowned, feeling it wasn’t a simple coincidence.

However, with the Dao Discussion approaching, and having finally waited for the Heart-Dao Lotus Seed to appear, she didn’t want any mishaps to occur while investigating this—it was, after all, a matter of her life.

Let’s wait and see. If the impersonator is just acting on a whim, I’ll be happy to let it slide.

Maybe it’s just someone attracted by the “Radiant One” title?

Shang Can tilted her head. People who liked role-playing existed in her original world too. She remembered it was especially common among younger students, often referred to as… Chuunibyou?

“Can you take off that fake face? It’s annoying to look at.”

Wan Shao’s voice interrupted her rambling thoughts with a completely unrelated request. Shang Can paused, confused.

“Why?” Shang Can glanced at her, reaching into the bag for another sugar cake. “I think this face is great. No one looks at me on the street.”

“Fine, fine, just take it off so I can touch it up. Those eyes of yours look like you stole them from someone else.”

Wan Shao unceremoniously pulled the bag of cakes into her own arms and urged her. Shang Can slowly reached for her jaw, peeled off a thin layer of a mask, and winced slightly at the sting.

“Here.” Shang Can rubbed her face and handed the mask to Wan Shao. She pointed at the bag of cakes and held out her hand. “I haven’t finished.”

“I have.” Wan Shao hurriedly stuffed the remaining cakes into her mouth, her eyes rolling as she nearly choked. She tossed the empty bag back to Shang Can, mocking her while pouring tea. “Didn’t you go out to find a tavern to eat? How did you end up coming back with nothing but a bag of sugar cakes? Does the food in Yanyang not suit your taste?”

Shang Can swept a lazy gaze over her, staring at the teacup in Wan Shao’s hand for a moment. Her finger flicked slightly. Wan Shao, who was mid-sip, suddenly cried out and stuck her tongue out: “So hot!”

“Shang Can, are you a child!”

Muttering resentfully about a few cakes, Wan Shao set down the tea that had suddenly turned scalding. She took the mask and stared fiercely at it, planning how to modify it so it wouldn’t look so jarring. She complained incessantly:

“I’m telling you, having eyes that are too beautiful is a curse. Even when wearing a mask, you have to wear a full-face one like when you’re the Radiant One, otherwise, something always feels off.”

Despite the complaining, the Great Wan Shao never withheld praise for Shang Can’s looks when it was due. However, not hearing a grateful response after the compliment made Wan Shao unhappy. She looked over with a huff, only to find that the eyes she had just praised were currently downcast, ignoring her.

The usually bright gaze was completely hidden now. The slightly upturned corners of her eyes carried a natural charm, and her long lashes trembled slightly, adding a touch of lazy intimacy.

Shang Can’s features were well-defined and her skin was incredibly pale. She was originally of a clean and elegant beauty, but she was cursed with those eyes.

They were the only part of her that truly looked like a demonic cultivator—frivolous and seductive. Whatever she looked at seemed to be the object of deep affection; even a casual glance could make someone fall under the illusion that they were the only thing in her world.

“That’s because you haven’t seen eyes that are even more beautiful.”

Shang Can spoke nonchalantly, though where this sudden fake humility came from was anyone’s guess. Wan Shao snorted and went back to staring at the mask with a look of deep hatred.

“In the first place, you always wore that white jade mask when you went out, so no one knows what you look like underneath. If it weren’t for the fact that Qingyu is also sending people to the Dao Discussion—”

—Then Shang Can wouldn’t need to wear a second mask.

Thinking this, Wan Shao didn’t say it aloud. Instead, she changed the subject. “Fine, fine, better safe than sorry.”

She waved the mask, shouting about how Shang Can should just pretend to be blind, to which Shang Can casually replied that Wan Shao should pretend to be a mute. In truth, Shang Can’s thoughts had already spiraled into chaos at the mention of “Qingyu.”

The Dao Discussion was only for disciples under the age of fifty. For cultivators with long lifespans, this age was the dividing line for the sect’s core strength. It was meant to be an arena for different sects to exchange skills.

And Qingyu had the most suitable candidate—someone who had gained fame at a very young age and possessed extraordinary strength. As long as she participated, the top spot of the tournament was practically hers.

But that person also hated crowded places the most.

Back then, whenever there was an event in Qingyu that was busy but mandatory, that person would always frown. Shang Can would then secretly take her hand and sneak out—either to Yaoguang Peak to steal fruit or to the Resonance Trees to listen to the zither.

As long as they retreated to a quiet place together, that person’s cold, jade-like features would soften. Those eyes were a hundred times more beautiful than her own, looking at her in silence.

Back then, Shang Can never imagined that one day, she would feel relieved that a place was crowded—simply because it meant she wouldn’t have to see that person.