There Is No Romance Between Me And My Junior Sister - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Compared to that initial encounter, the following two days were remarkably uneventful.

The preliminary rounds of the Discourse Assembly finally drew to a close. Shang Can used these two days to completely map out the layout of Fengya Residence and grasp the patterns of the night patrols—as expected, they didn’t patrol the kitchens. After a brief discussion with Wan Shao, she decided to head to the Yanyang outskirts tonight to investigate.

When the matches resumed, Shang Can quickly and easily won another round. By the time she stepped off the stage composed and calm, Wan Shao had only managed to crack five or six sunflower seeds she’d swiped from who-knows-where.

“…Maybe you should hold back a little?”

Wan Shao reluctantly shared half her seeds, advising her while chewing.

Although the current stage was still crowded with matches that were essentially mass-screenings, Shang Can’s victories were too clean and swift, drawing more than a few lingering side-eyes.

“I did hold back.” Hearing people behind them whispering about how they couldn’t even see the technique she used to floor her opponent, Shang Can acted as if she heard nothing. She surreptitiously rubbed the seed shells into her palm and incinerated them, not even lifting her gaze. “I didn’t even draw my sword.”

“Then you might as well have just written ‘I’m throwing the match’ on your forehead.”

Wan Shao felt she was worrying herself to death. She shot a fake look of displeasure at her friend, but soon couldn’t keep the act up and slapped Shang Can’s shoulder with a grin.

“Beautifully won!” After saying that loudly on purpose, she leaned in and hissed through gritted teeth, “Give these silver-tongued sect disciples a lesson they won’t forget!”

It was clear Wan Shao was still nursing a grudge against that male cultivator from before. Shang Can, the actual target of the insults, remained peaceful. She dusted off her hands, conjured a box of sesame cakes like a magic trick, and began chewing thoughtfully, only half-listening to Wan Shao’s nagging.

“But seriously, it’s fine for now, but later on you have to act a bit. Exchange ten moves or something. Look around, no one else is ending matches in one move like you—”

“Ah!”

As she spoke, a startled cry rang out from the stage. A sword had been knocked out of a contestant’s hand, flying high into the air and spinning several times before clattering onto the ground.

“I’ve won.”

The voice was devoid of emotion. Wan Shao’s ears perked up and she looked over, only to see a back as elegant as a banished immortal walking off the stage. Her opponent remained slumped on the floor, dazed.

“There.”

Shang Can’s voice came from beside her. Seeing Wan Shao look over, she nudged her chin toward the stage, her expression looking considerably more cheerful than before.

“Isn’t that also ending it in one move?”

Wan Shao was left speechless, sinking into a moody contemplation.

What is this? Is everyone who comes out of Qingyu cut from the same cloth?

If Wan Shao had been in a decent mood watching the matches these past two days—after all, failed contestants were usually asked to leave, but thanks to the “Fake Canzhe” incident, she got free food and lodging—by dusk, her face was completely covered in dark clouds.

“Tianwaitian set up several layers of new barriers. One of them is specifically to prevent the demon race from entering.”

“Damn them. They clearly didn’t consider what happens to the demons already inside the barrier.”

After a flurry of angry venting, Shang Can finally understood: Wan Shao couldn’t get out.

“…”

The divine life of free food and entertainment had suddenly turned into a prison. Shang Can didn’t know what to say; just holding back her laughter took considerable effort, which only infuriated Wan Shao further.

“Fine, you go deal with that bastard yourself!” Wan Shao threw her hands up in frustration, rolling up her sleeves and turning to leave. “If you don’t fix it, don’t come back! At worst, I’ll just forge another copy of your face tonight and fight your next match for you…”

Shang Can watched her leave with a wry smile, then looked up at the sky, falling into a thoughtful silence.

The situation was “urgent,” but not strictly urgent for Shang Can herself.

That night, Shang Can landed soundlessly on the ground. Only after confirming no one was following did she continue.

After all, Tianwaitian had already sent people to find the fake Canzhe. Her interference might complicate things. Besides, Canzhe’s reputation was already so foul that a few copycats couldn’t possibly tarnish the “brand” any further.

But… how to put it? Since the imposter had shed blood, the nature of the situation had changed for Shang Can.

Moreover, Wan Shao was now indirectly trapped because of this person. There was no immediate danger, but long nights breed many dreams. The barriers were a nuisance, especially the spiritual one that suppressed energy usage outside the arena. It was unsettling.

In this world, everyone believed that those of a different race must have a different heart. That male cultivator from before was just an average example. The line between humans and demons was sharp; Wan Shao had taken a huge risk coming here, and Shang Can refused to let her stay in danger a second longer than necessary.

“Walk the night often enough and you’ll meet a ghost.” It was time to teach the imposter that lesson.

There were many patrols in Fengya Residence tonight, but Shang Can bypassed them all easily, reaching a very secluded path. Once through this alley, she would be on the road to the main mountain, where the risk of discovery was minimal.

She had sneaked out plenty of times during her student days; she likely knew the layout better than most current disciples. Seeing that the sect hadn’t undergone any major renovations, she remembered the paths well.

As she mused, the corner at the end of the road came into view.

Shang Can’s footsteps slowed to a halt, her face wrinkling in bitterness.

She looked at the white-clad figure standing quietly at the end of the path and massaged her temples with a headache.

“…Patrolling even a small place like this? As expected of the Lord of the Clouds.”

The figure remained unmoved by the half-hearted praise, showing no surprise at her appearance. Yun Duan looked up calmly as if she’d known Shang Can would come, but her elegant face suddenly froze for a moment.

“What are you… out here for?”

“Stealing chickens.”

As she spoke, Shang Can honestly lifted the chicken tucked under her arm, presenting it to Yun Duan from all angles.

“I met this brother chicken today and felt an instant connection. I couldn’t bear to see him become someone’s dinner, so I sneaked out to find him.”

She lied through her teeth without blinking: “Right now, I’m heading out to set him free. I can’t let the Tianwaitian cooks catch him again… I wonder if the Lord of the Clouds could look the other way?”

“…” Yun Duan fell silent for a moment, a trace of confusion entering her ink-jade eyes. She hesitated before speaking: “But… it has already been plucked?”

Shang Can looked at the object in her hand—a smooth, bare, poached-ready chicken. It was as dead as dead could be. No wonder even Yun Duan couldn’t be fooled.

The Tianwaitian cooks were too fast. By the time she’d reached the kitchen, only these “bright and shiny” plucked chickens were left; not a single feather to be found. Following the principle of “since I’m already here,” she’d swiped one (leaving money behind, of course) to improve her own diet later.

She’d stolen it thinking it might serve as an excuse if she got caught, but it proved utterly useless. Shang Can put on a tragic “how could this be” expression, pulled a paper bag from her satchel to wrap the chicken, and stuffed it back inside.

She looked at the sky and sighed for a long while before finally throwing up her hands in defeat.

“Could the Lord of the Clouds just let me go this once? Please?”

She had intended to give up, but for some reason, the words slipped out naturally.

The sentence came out so smoothly that Shang Can only realized what she’d said after it was out, feeling a flicker of regret.

She used to say that all the time, back when she was still Yun Duan’s Senior Sister.

In her past life, Shang Can had been a good student. In this world, she was praised by elders as having the highest talent short of the legendary “Flawless Immortal Body.” Consequently, the cultivation classes at Qingyu were far too easy, often leaving her bored to tears.

Even accounting for her previous life’s age, she was young and full of “fearless” spirit in this world. So, she frequently… skipped class.

Every disciple at Qingyu had heard the teachers’ tirades against the head disciple of Yuheng Peak, yet when it came to exams or practicals, she would stroll in as if nothing had happened, submitting work so perfect no one could find a flaw. The lecturers loved and hated her in equal measure.

‘I heard the Talisman teacher proposed adding attendance to the grading criteria…’ Chu Ming, a disciple from Tianxu Peak who acted as her informant, said to her tentatively. ‘You should be careful.’

That rule was clearly aimed at her; no one else in Qingyu skipped class with such habitual dedication.

‘I’ll worry about it if they actually add it.’ Shang Can was focused on polishing her sword, not even looking up. ‘My Master won’t agree to it.’

She was only this free because she had a backer. The Master of Yuheng Peak, Wang Yue, practiced total laissez-faire. Whenever someone came to complain, she’d spout a few meaningless platitudes, then close the door, kick her feet up, and tell Shang Can: ‘Don’t mind them. As long as you’ve learned it, it’s fine.’

And so, Shang Can’s early years at Qingyu were spent in a state of wild, free growth.

Until Yun Duan became her Junior Sister.

‘Senior Sister.’

Again.

Shang Can opened one eye and silently turned her head. Sure enough, through the gaps in the leaves, she saw that familiar white figure under a nearby tree, looking up. After a moment, the girl moved to the next tree, searching one by one with utmost seriousness.

The little one was still young and not very tall. The plain white silk robes looked a bit too large on her, wrapping her slender frame. Her expression was calm and solemn, giving her a refined, jade-like air.

A month had passed since the incident where Shang Can was punished for pestering Yun Duan. She’d learned a bit of restraint, privately agreeing with Wang Yue’s logic that ‘skipping class yourself is fine, but bothering others is wrong.’ Thus, she only sought Yun Duan out during her free time.

She thought this was a perfect arrangement. Master allowed it, the teachers no longer saw her as a monster stealing their best student, and she had more personal time—even if she didn’t have much to do with it, like now, intending to take a nap in a tree.

But she never expected that her Junior Sister wouldn’t be satisfied with this state of affairs. Or rather, Yun Duan had developed a strange sense of mission.

For some reason, Yun Duan started frequently “catching” the truant Shang Can and bringing her back to class.

All this, of course, after Yun Duan had finished her own lessons. Everyone was happy to see it—from her unreliable Master who broke the rules to lend Yun Duan a jade slip that could track disciples, to her friend Chu Ming, who only hesitated for thirty seconds before defecting and giving up her location.

Shang Can was the only one suffering. Due to her pride as a Senior Sister, she felt it was improper to tell her Junior that she simply didn’t want to go to class. So she was forced into a game of hide-and-seek, often hanging her own tracking jade on Yun Duan to confuse the signal—a move that was, naturally, against the rules.

But over time, even that stopped working. Shang Can watched gloomily as Yun Duan called for her under every tree, unable to fathom how the girl always found her.

The best move was to run before Yun Duan reached this tree. Shang Can had already prepared her concealment spell. But she glanced back once, and her movements stopped.

Yun Duan had searched over a dozen trees to no avail. She wasn’t angry; she just quietly walked to the next one. Her white robes fluttered in the wind, and Shang Can realized that despite the sun, they were at the peak of Yaoguang, and the mountain wind was biting.

Yun Duan is physically weak. What if she catches a cold?

Driven by a strange impulse, Shang Can reached out and brushed the leaves aside.

The movement immediately caught Yun Duan’s attention. She looked toward the sound, her eyes meeting Shang Can’s through the foliage.

‘Oh, I’ve been found.’

Shang Can cried out with exaggerated surprise. She didn’t climb down, but looked down at Yun Duan from the branches, her clear voice trailing into a playful whine.

‘Duan-er, could you let me off this once? Please?’

‘No.’

Rejected flatly. Shang Can looked disappointed. She hummed as if thinking, reached into her sleeve for a while, then held her closed fist to her lips with mock mystery before opening her palm and blowing gently.

Petals of various unknown flowers drifted down from her hand, landing in clusters on the unsuspecting Yun Duan like a brief rain of flowers.

Caught by surprise, Yun Duan remained characteristically calm, much to Shang Can’s disappointment. But Shang Can persisted: ‘I brought flowers for Duan-er, so let me stay just this once.’

‘No. Senior Sister needs to attend the Spiritual Tool Maintenance class.’

Yun Duan was unmoved, looking up with a heart of stone. Yet as Shang Can saw the pink petals caught in the girl’s black hair, she found it impossible to stay serious.

‘Fine, fine.’

For some reason, she changed her mind. She flipped down from the tree, landing silently in front of Yun Duan, and gave a mock-respectful salute.

‘I shall follow my Junior Sister’s wishes. This humble one will go to class.’

‘…’ This time, Yun Duan finally lost her composure. She turned her head stiffly, her voice low and slightly awkward. ‘Senior Sister.’

Shang Can felt inexplicably wonderful. She walked off with her hands behind her back, grinning. Yun Duan followed silently, her posture poised and upright.

‘How did you find me? I thought I hid well.’

‘I put my tracking jade inside the lining of Senior Sister’s clothes.’

‘…Well played, Yun Duan. You’ve developed a wicked streak. That’s not good.’

‘I learned it from Senior Sister.’

‘Hmm, your tongue has gotten sharper too. By the way, the wind is strong here. Are you cold? I’ll take you to get a bowl of mutton soup to warm up. You’re too thin, you need to eat more—’

‘The Qingyu disciple robes have built-in protection spells. I am not cold.’

‘Ah, right. I forgot.’

The two figures in her memory walked side-by-side, their silhouettes fading into the endless forest.

Shang Can’s mind snapped back to the dark alley. She sighed inwardly.

What was she thinking, asking to be “let off”? Yun Duan wouldn’t let her off back then; she certainly wouldn’t now.

She was already mentally preparing to turn back when she saw Yun Duan blink and silently reach for the hilt of the sword at her waist.

Shang Can flinched. Did I actually make her angry? I was just talking nonsense with a chicken, but surely that’s not a crime…

While her mind raced, she saw the Lord of the Clouds merely brush her hand against the hilt before letting it drop. Then, she parted her lips.

“Okay.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll go back—huh?”

Shang Can, who had already turned around to leave, froze. She couldn’t believe her ears. She slowly turned back to see the moonlit beauty’s lips curved slightly—a faint smile that seemed to ripple through the air. Her breathtaking beauty made the mundane alley seem noble.

Shang Can heard Yun Duan speak again, clear as day.

“Okay. I’ll let you off this once.”