My Sickly Junior Brother Is Fishing for Me Again Today

The master beckoned and called his junior disciple over to stand before nine-year-old A Dai. "A Dai, this is your junior brother." Her junior brother's cheeks puffed up with anger. "She's nine, and I'm seven hundred! Why am I the junior brother?" The master laid out seven fruits and taught them to count to seven. Then he added two more, counted to nine, and asked, "Is nine more than seven?" A Dai and her junior brother looked at the fruit and silently nodded. Their grandmaster: "..." Son, if you had even a kindergarten diploma, your mother wouldn't have been able to fool you like this... * Years later, her junior brother looked at nine fruits and seven hundred fruits, his expression complicated. "Senior Sister, I'm the senior brother!" A Dai pinched his cheek. "All right, Junior Brother." Her junior brother: "..." * Years later, they fought their way out of a sea of blood and crossed a forest of corpses. When they looked back, their former sect had long since been reduced to ashes. Only the two of them remained, holding fast to their master's teaching: Stay alive. No matter what, you must keep on living. Covered in blood, her junior brother asked, "Senior Sister, why didn't you leave me behind and escape on your own?" A memory surfaced in A Dai's mind: when she was little, she would secretly call her master "Mother" while nestled in her arms. "Because I love you." Her junior brother: "..." A Dai turned around. "Hey, Junior Brother, why is your face red?"