My Shijie Seems Intent on Destroying the World – Chapter 17

Questioning the Heart

You Frightened My Shimei

The charcoal fire in the brazier had burned to ash. Outside, heavy snow still filled the sky.

Huaixu looked at the unconscious girl beside her.

            

After a long moment, she frowned. “Since you recognize this hairpin, aren’t you worried that whoever stands behind her is no simple figure?”

“How complicated could they be? Over these thousands of years, do you think I haven’t slaughtered enough notable figures? Even when Fu Qingsong was alive, he never permitted his disciples to meddle in my affairs. Now that he is dead, who within a hundred miles is there that I cannot afford to offend?” Yue Jinzhu laughed, her eyes brimming with fearlessness. “If that person truly manages to find their way here, I will be charitable and let them die alongside their beloved.”

“A single person is nothing to fear, but there are quite a few cultivators gathered nearby lately.”

            

“So what?” Yue Jinzhu smiled, her expression disdainful. “The northern spiritual vein has spawned demonic qi, and the Tiandao Sect is gone. The mortal realm is in chaos now—my crimes hardly make a difference.”

“Every one of those who rushed toward Mount Qiongju the moment they heard the Tiandao Sect had fallen—each one harbors hidden agendas, with their own sordid business to attend to.” She poured herself a cup of wine, her tone innocent. “I only quietly ate a person or two. It isn’t as though I massacred an entire city. Who would spare the time to concern themselves with me?”

“…”

            

Yue Jinzhu rose and waved her hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, hurry up and hide this silly little girl. It will be noon before long—don’t get in the way of my business.”

Huaixu said nothing more. She released spider silk from her palm, binding Qi Zhi tightly, and tugging the trailing strand, headed toward the back courtyard.

Yue Jinzhu’s gaze followed them, unable to resist one extra glance at the unopened flower bud tucked in the girl’s hair. Her eyes darkened slightly.

            

When Huaixu returned to her side, she found Yue Jinzhu had drunk most of the wine before her and could not help frowning. “Why drink so much?”

“It’s nothing.” Yue Jinzhu shook her head. “Looking at that little girl just reminded me of some things.”

“…”

            

“Once, I too fantasized about having a spiritual flower bloom in the hair of the one I loved.” She let out a self-mocking chuckle. “But the heartless people of this world—no matter how sweet their words, no matter how deep the affection in their eyes… their cold hearts will never beat for you.”

Yue Jinzhu’s brow furrowed, her teeth clenching with hatred. “I betrayed the Spirit Venerable for him, willingly severing two of my tails, yet all he wanted was to take my demon core back to his sect for credit… If I had not forged that hairpin, I truly would have fallen for his scheme.”

“And then?”

            

“After that, I couldn’t resist cutting out his heart to take one look—”

“…”

“It was actually warmer than I had imagined.” Yue Jinzhu spoke softly, as though lost in a fond memory. “I liked that warmth. But what I loved most was watching it beat for me alone.”

            

“You got your wish.”

“Yes. What I hold in my hand, I can make move however I wish.”

Yue Jinzhu closed her eyes and sighed.

            

When she opened them again, her gaze had turned to ice.

“A pity it cooled so quickly,” she said. “What is forced will never last.”

Huaixu fell silent for a long while, then replaced the charcoal in the brazier with fresh coals.

            

She pulled open the shop door. Another ordinary day.

As for the newly captured little girl, she could be dealt with tonight.

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In her daze, Qi Zhi had a dream.

            

In the dream, the kind cart driver, the enthusiastic waiter, the uncle who sold steamed buns, the innkeeper, and Mistress Yue of the hot pot shop—all of them gathered around her with beaming smiles.

There is not so much freely given kindness in this world.

She had taken their goodwill for nothing, and now they had come to collect.

            

But she had never possessed anything at all. It seemed the only thing anyone cared about was her damaged spiritual root.

So they discussed how to divide her up and eat her.

Those people were right in front of her, yet her cries and pleas seemed to go unheard—or rather, no one cared.

            

In her hopelessness, the only thing she could hold onto was that white jade hairpin.

As though if she held on tightly enough, someone would come to her side and hear her voice…

Until everything around her grew darker and darker, quieter and quieter.

            

She fell into a deep cavern—dark, damp, piercing cold, accompanied by deathly silence that trapped her completely.

The terror in her heart jolted her awake from the nightmare.

But the moment she opened her eyes, her surroundings were still pitch-black. She could see nothing at all.

            

Qi Zhi tried to move and found herself bound tight by something. Her hands, feet, and arms were inexplicably so weak that she lacked even the strength to struggle.

She gave up struggling and lay in the darkness, letting her eyes adjust for a long while until she could finally make out blurred shapes in the gloom.

They were long, cocoon-like things, hanging silently in midair.

            

They varied in size and seemed to give off a faint scent of blood, deliberately masked.

Upon realizing that these things might very well be people, Qi Zhi could not stop trembling and curled herself into the smallest ball possible.

Where was this? How long had she been unconscious? Was it day or night outside now?

            

Would she die too?

Suspended just like these things, hung in this lightless place.

Qi Zhi’s thoughts ran in every direction, but since there were no answers, all that remained in the end was an inescapable dread.

            

After an unknown passage of time, a dull sound echoed from somewhere far away.

A stone door in the distance was pushed open. Warm yellow candlelight spilled into the dark chamber, illuminating a swath of dead silence.

Qi Zhi squinted against the weak glow and glanced around.

            

Her already chilled heart turned completely to ice in that moment.

She had guessed right. Suspended all around her were human-shaped blood cocoons, bound layer upon layer in spider silk.

In the center of the chamber sat a medicine cauldron carved with demon patterns, its exterior stained with blood.

            

Silver-white spider silk covered every surface. Several strands were attached to her body, glimmering with faint spiritual light—some kind of spider venom that saps one’s strength.

A deep chill crept over every inch of Qi Zhi’s skin.

Yue Jinzhu descended the stone steps from the entrance, carrying a swaying candle lamp.

            

She lowered her gaze and met Qi Zhi’s terror-filled eyes.

“Little Grass, don’t be afraid~” Yue Jinzhu walked toward her with a smile. “We only met once, but I really do like you. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had the patience to sit through that whole meal with you, right?”

“…” Right… was it?

            

“You really are quiet, aren’t you? No crying, no fussing.” Yue Jinzhu hung the lamp in the wall sconce and crouched before Qi Zhi, arching her brows as she studied her. “You have no idea—every person I’ve captured before always gave me such a headache with all the screaming.”

Qi Zhi did not dare meet her eyes. She only asked in a small voice, “Are you going to eat me?”

“Yes.”

            

“Why…” Qi Zhi’s voice trembled.

“To become stronger, of course.” Yue Jinzhu smiled and patted Qi Zhi’s head. “The weak cannot protect themselves. Just look at you now—lying here, pitifully asking me why I want to eat you.”

“Look at these. They were all immortal sect cultivators who had slaughtered countless demons.” She propped her knee and stood, her gaze sweeping across the chamber of suspended corpses, as if taking inventory of her past hunts. “Most of them spent their lives vanquishing demons and evil spirits—so very imposing. They probably never imagined that in the end, all their cultivation would be refined into pills by me, while their bodies were sealed up like this, kept in storage for me—a creature they would have called an evil demon—to use whenever I please.”

            

She leaned down toward Qi Zhi. “Do you know why?”

Qi Zhi shuddered and shook her head helplessly.

“Because I am stronger than them!” Yue Jinzhu laughed behind her hand. “When I was weaker than them, they hunted me without needing a reason. Now that I am stronger, it is only natural that they should die by my hand. That is perfectly fair.”

            

She paused, then sighed. “Actually, I don’t usually eat demons.”

“…”

“But your scent is truly extraordinary. I genuinely want a taste.”

            

Yue Jinzhu’s tone was perfectly innocent—matching her expression entirely—the smug certainty of someone saying, “I don’t want to either—you are the one tempting me.”

Qi Zhi opened her mouth, hesitated for a long moment, then silently closed her eyes.

She thought that this time, she was probably really going to die.

            

If she had known a single meal would cost her life, she would have stayed in bed at the inn chewing on steamed buns…

“Little Grass, don’t be afraid.” Yue Jinzhu crouched down again, leaning close to Qi Zhi’s ear, whispering softly. “Huaixu’s spider silk is venomous—it will numb your pain. I work quickly. I won’t let you suffer too much.”

As she finished speaking, her five fingers transformed into sharp claws and pressed against the top of the girl’s head.

            

Spiritual power flowed from her fingertips, probing toward Qi Zhi’s Sea of Divine Sense.

That spiritual power, carrying a thread of icy cold, broke through the instinctive, feeble spiritual resistance and forced its way in.

The pain in that instant felt as though it would tear her soul from her body.

            

Qi Zhi clenched her brows, biting down hard to keep from crying out, while her heart hammered so violently it felt ready to burst from her chest.

Perhaps her luck really was just bad.

The moment she surrendered, that was the only thought left in her mind.

            

But the next second, the pain she expected did not deepen.

A tremendous crash thundered through the chamber. Yue Jinzhu gasped in pain and threw herself back several meters, her voice furious. “Who’s there!”

Qi Zhi stared blankly for a moment, then timidly opened her eyes.

            

A hole had been smashed through the ceiling of the dim stone chamber. Through the swirl of fine dust, a flash of sword light bright as the moon blazed into her eyes.

The light faded. A figure, achingly familiar, stood with sword drawn before her. The lingering spiritual energy surging from the blade sent white robes fluttering and dark hair flying.

Qi Zhi stared, mouth agape, unable to speak.

            

When she came to her senses, she found her bindings had vanished without a trace. She scrambled backward, wriggling away on the ground.

“Mu Qingshi?” Yue Jinzhu clutched her endlessly bleeding right arm, her eyes full of astonishment. “The Tiandao Sect has already… you actually survived!”

After a brief stunned pause, she put on a friendly face. “This little girl is yours?”

            

Mu Qingshi did not reply. She only stared coldly at the fox before her.

“Then this is all a misunderstanding, isn’t it?” Yue Jinzhu retreated slowly, her face brimming with smiles. “But you can’t blame me. I asked her questions and her answers were vague. If I had known who she was, I never would have laid a finger on her.”

Mu Qingshi: “Is that so?”

            

“But of course…” Yue Jinzhu’s words trailed off as, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Huaixu poised above the hole in the ceiling. Her expression darkened instantly. The hand clutching her wound swept forward, and blood at her fingertips condensed into needles that flew forth like rain.

Mu Qingshi swung her sword and struck down a dozen blood needles, but silver-white spider silk followed close behind, tangling around her blade again and again.

Seeing she could not gain the upper hand, Huaixu flung her silk back into the air and spread a vast web from both hands—like thousands of fine blades—pressing down overwhelmingly toward the person behind Mu Qingshi.

            

Qi Zhi shrieked in terror and instinctively threw her arms over her head.

Mu Qingshi frowned. Whirling around, she drove her sword into the stone floor, raising a barrier of spiritual energy that shielded Qi Zhi completely behind her.

Chunsheng left her hand. Spider silk instantly wrapped around her wrist.

            

Yue Jinzhu seized the opening. Both hands transformed into sharp claws, her form ghostlike as she lunged to Mu Qingshi’s side in a single dash. After several exchanges, while Mu Qingshi was hindered by the silk, she seized her left shoulder in a fierce grip.

Sharp claws pierced flesh, releasing demon venom, staining a patch of white robes red.

The next second, spider silk bound Mu Qingshi’s hands tight.

            

“Shijie!”

Qi Zhi cried out in alarm, then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth.

Yue Jinzhu shot Qi Zhi a glance, a disdainful smirk curling her lips, and smiled at Mu Qingshi. “Mu Qingshi, your spiritual root was destroyed five hundred years ago. You don’t actually think you can still match me, do you?”

            

“When the Daoist Venerable was still around, I wouldn’t dare touch anyone from the Tiandao Sect. But now—” She shook her head with a knitted brow, yet the corners of her mouth curved up irresistibly, her words dripping with honeyed charm. “There is nothing left for me to fear.”

Yue Jinzhu’s eyes gleamed with triumph as she surveyed her prey. “What an unexpected delight. The most renowned prodigy the immortal sects had ever seen, actually fallen into my hands…”

Before she could finish, the smile on her face froze.

            

The claws embedded in her prey’s flesh were suddenly wreathed in a mass of black mist. Yue Jinzhu instantly felt a searing, bone-deep pain, and by the time she realized something was terribly wrong, it was too late to pull away.

The black mist crept upward along her five fingers, devouring every inch of flesh it touched, until it withered and shriveled like dead leaves—brittle enough to crumble at a touch.

“Demonic qi!” Yue Jinzhu’s voice shook, her eyes wide with terror.

            

After a brief hesitation, she gritted her teeth, raised her claw, and tore off her own right arm, which the demonic qi had clamped onto.

Huaixu leaped to Yue Jinzhu’s side. Silver spider silk instantly wrapped around the mangled, severed arm, but blood still seeped out without cease.

Candlelight flickered across her mutilated shadow. The alluring face that had brimmed with a thousand charms now held not a trace of a smile—only deep, raw fear.

            

Yue Jinzhu’s voice trembled. “Mu Qingshi… how do you have demonic qi in you!”

Mu Qingshi: “Why don’t you ask instead how I am still alive when everyone else is dead?”

Yue Jinzhu: “…”

            

The black mist dissolved the spider silk binding Mu Qingshi’s body.

She walked forward slowly, sword in hand, her voice like a frozen abyss. “You frightened my shimei.”

Yue Jinzhu opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, an invisible force seized her by the throat.

            

She saw a longsword slowly taking shape from the demonic qi.

The blade was pitch-black as ink, faintly exuding a dark red, bloody mist.

A chill intense enough to freeze blood spread silently through the dim underground chamber, carried on the black mist that had dispersed without anyone noticing.

            

Only the small patch of ground beneath the Chunsheng sword, bathed in the flickering candlelight, remained as pristine as before.

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The author has something to say:

Ah Yun (keep me anonymous, thanks): Someone’s showing off like a peacock fanning its tail. I won’t say who.

            

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