My Shijie Seems Intent on Destroying the World – Chapter 2

When the Spirit Flowers Bloom

There Was a Devotion That Belonged to Her Alone

Qi Zhi would never forget the day she first met Mu Qingshi.

She had only gone up the mountain to shake down some osmanthus blossoms, yet she had stumbled upon the one person everyone in Tiandao Sect went out of their way to avoid. The realization jolted her.

            

She looked down at the scattered blossoms carpeting the ground, her hands clasped in front of her, kneading anxiously—guilty, as though she had committed some offense.

This place was exceedingly quiet and secluded. No one ever came here. Mu Qingshi had only confined herself to Suihan Hall of her own accord—she hadn’t been placed under house arrest by the Sect Master. It was only natural that she might come out for some air when she felt stifled.

She must have made quite a racket earlier. She was afraid she had disturbed this senior sister’s peace.

            

At that thought, Qi Zhi lowered her lashes further, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

Mu Qingshi asked her softly what she needed the osmanthus for.

She couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice as she answered in a low murmur, “I—I want to make osmanthus jam… for, for the sect to use.”

            

Mu Qingshi fell silent, gazing at Qi Zhi for a long moment, then conjured a longsword from her palm.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!”

Qi Zhi squeezed her eyes shut and covered her head on instinct, turtling her neck as she rattled off a practiced plea for mercy.

            

The sword rang as it left its sheath, but the expected “punishment” never came.

“…”

Qi Zhi waited several seconds, then cracked her eyes open and peered out through the gaps between her fingers.

            

The sword hovered in the air, gathering wind as it spun, sending a storm of blossoms raining through the Osmanthus Grove.

Was Second Senior Sister… helping her?

Qi Zhi slowly lowered her hands, watching the scene before her in disbelief.

            

The blossom-rain drifted on the wind, settling thick upon the ground and dusting her all over.

Not until the sword returned to its sheath did she meet Mu Qingshi’s eyes.

It was the first time Qi Zhi had ever seen such a gentle smile in someone’s gaze directed at her.

            

The smile was faint, yet it left her spellbound.

That day, Mu Qingshi stayed by her side, gathering the fallen osmanthus from the grove floor, one handful at a time.

She told her she had joined the sect long ago and had heard Mu-shijie¹‘s name more than once, but this was the first time they had actually met.

            

She said she used to think Mu-shijie would be hard to get along with, but today she found out that wasn’t the case.

She said she came here every year to gather osmanthus—not just to make osmanthus jam, but also to brew a few jars of osmanthus wine, which she would bury under a tree and dig up on meaningful days for a secret drink.

She told her that her cultivation was low, and in past years she had to shake the trees one by one. Gathering enough osmanthus took about three days.

            

This time, with Mu-shijie’s help, she had gathered enough in no time at all!

She chattered on with a smile, and Mu Qingshi listened with a smile in return—not a trace of impatience in her eyes.

Qi Zhi found it incredible.

            

On Mount Qiongju, aside from the weak little spirit creatures that hadn’t yet attained human form, no one had ever had the patience to listen to her talk so much.

Mu Qingshi was the first—and in over a century, the only one.

By the time the sun dipped westward, the Qiankun Bag² was stuffed full.

            

Qi Zhi knew it was time to head back.

But when the moment came to part, a reluctance she had never felt before stirred in her heart.

The sky was a wash of orange-red, the setting sun illuminating her hesitant footsteps.

            

She turned back unthinkingly for one last, distant look.

That receding figure in soft white was so slight—so slight that a gentle evening breeze might sweep her from this world without a sound.

A whisper of autumn chill tugged at her heart, and a thought stirred within her.

            

—She felt she ought to hold on to her.

“Mu-shijie!” she couldn’t help but call out.

Mu Qingshi paused in her steps and turned slowly.

            

“Thank you for helping me today!” Qi Zhi drew a deep breath, pressing her hands to her mouth to amplify her voice, her heart hammering like mad. “My name is Qi Zhi! The eleventh disciple under the Daoist Venerable!”

“When the osmanthus wine is ready, can I come find you at Suihan Hall?” she called out, her eyes brimming with hope. “I want to bring you some, to thank you!”

She couldn’t make out Mu Qingshi’s expression. After a brief silence, she heard a clear-voiced: “Of course!”

            

“Then wait for me!”

Qi Zhi’s face bloomed into a grin. She waved her arm vigorously, turned, and bounded down the mountain, her steps as light and quick as a little rabbit’s.

So the rumors she had heard after entering the sect weren’t true after all.

            

This Second Senior Sister—rumored to have destroyed her Spiritual Root³, confined herself to Suihan Hall for over a century, and even lost her mind—was in truth a wonderful, wonderful senior sister.

She was beautiful, gentle to others, and even with her Spiritual Root destroyed, she still looked remarkably formidable.

Such was the way of the world.

            

When everyone said the same thing, it often couldn’t be trusted.

Perhaps, in the eyes of others, Second Senior Sister was nothing more than a cripple who had fallen from the heights, stripped of all ambition.

Because saying whatever you wanted cost nothing, anyone could make up whatever they pleased about her.

            

Just like her—no matter how careful and cautious she was, someone with an agenda would always find fault, and she never had the right to defend herself.

Qi Zhi thought her courage was still too small.

If only she had been braver, she could have met such a wonderful Mu-shijie sooner!

            

After that chance encounter, Qi Zhi carried a new hope in her heart.

She wished this year’s osmanthus wine would mature faster.

Time in the mountains passed quickly, yet it felt as though she had waited an eternity.

            

Autumn leaves blanketed the mountain. She wrote her little thoughts on fallen leaves, then buried them beneath more fallen leaves.

In the blink of an eye, autumn gave way to winter, and a light snow fell on Mount Qiongju.

The white blanketing the ground was nothing like the pale figure in her heart, and the sight only sharpened her longing.

            

By the time the second winter snow arrived, Qi Zhi’s osmanthus wine was finally ready.

Would Mu-shijie still remember their promise from over three months ago?

She had only asked on a whim that day, and her senior sister had answered just as casually. So much time had passed—would it be too forward to visit now?

            

Qi Zhi shook her head, drew a long breath, and told herself: If you had the courage to ask then, you must have the courage to go now!

So she gathered her courage, cradling two small jars, her heart full of anticipation and trepidation, and followed the guidance of the mountain’s spirit creatures to find Suihan Hall.

The white plum blossoms outside Suihan Hall were in full bloom, their branches bowed under the weight of accumulated snow.

            

The surroundings were silent and empty, as though no one lived there.

Only a small bird with a white head and gray back perched on a treetop, tilting its little head as it regarded her quietly.

Qi Zhi could tell that this bird had gained Spiritual Awareness⁴—and like her, it was a demon.

            

“Excuse me… is Mu-shijie here?” she asked softly.

The bird tilted its head to the other side.

Qi Zhi thought for a moment, then pulled a handful of dried little red berries from her pouch. She cupped them in her palm and held them up high toward the branch. “Would you like some of these?”

            

The bird shuffled its feet on the branch, fluttered down to her fingertips, and pecked at two berries.

Then it ruffled its wings and flew toward Suihan Hall.

Qi Zhi hurried after the little bird, her eyes darting curiously around.

            

The Daoist Venerable’s disciples each had their own residence, and the more favored the disciple, the finer the quarters.

Suihan Hall sat at the summit of the mountain’s north side—lonely, cold, and secluded, but undeniably grand.

Her own little courtyard couldn’t compare to even a tenth of this place.

            

As these thoughts ran through Qi Zhi’s mind, the little bird soon led her to Mu Qingshi.

She had been anxious before coming, but now, seeing Mu Qingshi again, all those worries scattered on the wind.

Mu Qingshi gladly accepted her osmanthus wine and looked into her eyes with a soft laugh. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

            

Qi Zhi’s heart warmed at her words. “You didn’t forget—how could I!”

They were alike in that way—both treasuring a casual promise in their hearts, yet each preparing early for the possibility that the other had forgotten. As if everything in this world was inherently more than they deserved.

But she and Mu-shijie had found each other.

            

They sat by the window, gazing out at the white-washed world, drinking the freshly brewed wine together.

Insignificant her, saying insignificant things.

And Mu Qingshi, just as in their first meeting, listened earnestly to every word she said.

            

All those thoughts that no one else cared about seemed to find a safe home here.

This was a tenderness she would never have dared dream of receiving.

If she could, she wanted to be closer.

            

So from that day on, Qi Zhi always found some excuse to visit Suihan Hall.

As the visits grew frequent, Mu Qingshi would always have treats prepared in advance, feeding her while they chatted.

She didn’t know where she found the courage, but she began confiding many grievances to Second Senior Sister.

            

She said that even though they were all direct disciples taken in by the Daoist Venerable, she and the other senior brothers and sisters were simply not the same.

Eldest Senior Brother and Third Senior Sister had long since left the mountain to protect the Human Royal Family, and they were held in great esteem.

Whenever they returned to Mount Qiongju, they were swarmed by crowds. She wasn’t even worthy of going up to exchange a word.

            

Fourth Senior Brother, on the other hand, was the one among all the senior brothers who despised her the most.

On ordinary days, out of sight was out of mind. But whenever he ran into her, he could never resist saying a few cruel things to make himself happy.

Sixth Senior Sister devoted herself to cultivation and treated her coldly, but at least there was no malice—which made her one of the better ones.

            

As for the others, they were mostly on the same side as Fourth Senior Brother. Even the outer sect disciples looked down on her, and eventually, anyone felt entitled to order her around.

At the end of the day, they just felt she wasn’t worthy.

So no matter how hard she tried, she could never fit in with them.

            

As she spoke, Qi Zhi clenched the berries in her hand, her voice suddenly growing small.

She told Mu Qingshi that sometimes she wondered—if the Daoist Venerable had never taken her as a disciple, might she have had an easier time on Mount Qiongju?

Mu Qingshi listened quietly, her gaze flickering with something inscrutable. After a long silence, she gently stroked her head.

            

The grievances in Qi Zhi’s heart surged up in that moment.

It turned out she wasn’t without resentment—she had simply never dared to resent.

Mount Qiongju was so vast, yet not a single person had room for her small grievances.

            

Because she had no power yet had “stolen” what others dreamed of, she had to be docile, had to be someone anyone could bully—as if that was simply how things were meant to be.

Only here was it different. Only Mu-shijie was different.

If she hadn’t met Mu Qingshi, Qi Zhi would never have known that being with someone didn’t have to mean swallowing your grievances.

            

The years in the mountains stretched long, but for Qi Zhi, they were finally no longer unbearable.

She grew more certain that before Mu Qingshi, she could say anything, do anything, without holding back.

And so she grew ever fonder of visiting Mu Qingshi at Suihan Hall.

            

Without realizing it, she had spoken ill of many people to Mu Qingshi—the bullying she had endured, the cruel words she had heard, even the malice from people she had never met.

Of course, speaking ill of others behind their backs wasn’t a good thing, but she wasn’t making baseless accusations, and those people were hardly innocent.

Mu-shijie had said so herself—these were secrets between the two of them, and no one else would know. From now on, whatever she wanted to say, she didn’t have to bottle it up inside like before.

            

Oh, and that small bird with a white head and gray back was called Ah Yun—a spirit beast raised by Mu Qingshi.

It knew all these secrets too.

She had brought it plenty of berries to win its favor, so it would keep her secrets as well!

            

However, as two people with damaged Spiritual Roots grew closer and visited more frequently, gossip was inevitable over time.

Fourth Senior Brother heard that his worthless junior sister had been frequenting Suihan Hall of late. Curious, he brought a small gift and paid a visit himself—only to be turned away at the door. Furious, he made a string of snide, cutting remarks.

What was all this about her Spiritual Root being ruined—who did she think she was, putting on airs? Just because they called her Second Senior Sister didn’t mean she was actually someone important!

            

And how trash and trash naturally got along—birds of a feather flock together, truly.

Others overheard and joined in the gossip.

But Qi Zhi no longer cared about any of it.

            

Mu Qingshi’s appearance had lit up the always-dusty, drab version of her. She no longer wanted to exhaust herself trying to please people who seemed impossible to please.

She looked forward to every day she could spare the time and find a reason to visit Suihan Hall.

There was a devotion that belonged to her alone.

            

Even though she knew she hadn’t grasped a lifeline. On Mount Qiongju, it was true that someone was now willing to listen to her troubles, but there was still no one who would stand up for her when she was wronged.

She understood that she wasn’t worth it. The devotion she felt would cease to exist the moment she stepped away from Suihan Hall.

Even so, she couldn’t help wanting to see Mu Qingshi.

            

As if some unseen force kept dragging her toward that cold, secluded place.

Sometimes even she felt it was becoming a little obsessive.

She couldn’t help but wonder if something was off about all of this.

            

But she couldn’t figure out what it might be, so she chose to carry on as before.

Until one day, Fourth Senior Brother somehow procured a Mountain Pass Token and asked Qi Zhi to help him run an errand down the mountain.

Procurement for the sect was always handled by designated disciples. Qi Zhi knew nothing about it. She stood frozen, not daring to accept, not daring to refuse.

            

Fourth Senior Brother, in a rare show of friendliness, said the disciple in charge of procurement was away, and the sect was running low on supplies, so Master had told him to make the trip.

But his cultivation had been progressing well lately, and he sensed a breakthrough might be near. He didn’t want to waste time on this errand. Since Qi Zhi hardly cultivated anyway, he figured he would hand the task to her—and promised her a magical artifact as payment once she returned.

Having said his piece, he didn’t wait for Qi Zhi to think it over. He shoved the Mountain Pass Token and a Qiankun Bag into her hands.

            

“But…”

“But what? You won’t even help your shixiong⁵ out?”

Qi Zhi didn’t dare refuse. She clutched the token and the Qiankun Bag, opening and closing her mouth for a long time before finally asking in a small voice, “How… how do I do procurement?”

            

For as long as she could remember, she had never set foot off Mount Qiongju.

“Just go down the mountain, head south to Qingshi Town, and bring back whatever common supplies you see.”

“Oh.”

            

“‘Oh’ what?” Fourth Senior Brother scowled impatiently. “Do I need to write it down for you?”

Qi Zhi didn’t dare ask further. She took the token and the Qiankun Bag and headed down the mountain.

But she hadn’t been off the mountain for even two shichen⁶ before Elder Mu of the Law Enforcement Hall had her brought back.

            

Inside the Law Enforcement Hall, Fourth Senior Brother pointed at her nose and declared that she was always shirking work and seeking amusement. This time, she had stolen his token—no doubt to sneak down the mountain for fun.

Sixth Senior Sister, who had been listening for a while, suddenly remarked coolly, “Junior Eleven’s gotten quite capable—to steal something right off Fourth Senior Brother’s person. Who knows what trick she used.”

Fourth Senior Brother’s face darkened for an instant. He frowned. “I’d like to know too. Do you think she dares to say?”

            

Qi Zhi pressed her lips together and didn’t defend herself.

She knew that Fourth Senior Brother had been turned away at the door by Second Senior Sister, and the sting of it demanded payback.

Since he had come prepared, he must have worked out his story. Given her standing in the sect, even the truth wouldn’t be believed. All it would take was one accusation of “slandering a senior brother,” and her punishment would only be doubled.

            

Sect disciples were not permitted to leave the mountain without authorization. Elder Mu frowned and sighed, then sentenced her to kneel outside the Law Enforcement Hall for three days without food.

It was winter again—the second snowfall of that year.

Qi Zhi knelt outside the Law Enforcement Hall, thinking that her osmanthus wine should be almost ready.

            

She hoped that after these three days, she would still have the strength to bring the wine to Suihan Hall.

The wind and snow were fierce that day. She bit her lower lip, fighting hard not to cry.

At first, a few disciples stood around watching. The snow piled up until it buried her knees. Her cultivation was too low to withstand such cold—she nearly lost consciousness.

            

Then a gentle warmth enveloped her.

Qi Zhi looked up. Mu Qingshi had come with an umbrella, shielding her from the wind and snow above.

“Shijie…”

            

“Ah Yun told me everything.”

Qi Zhi explained in a small, stubborn voice, “I didn’t steal Fourth Senior Brother’s things. He asked me to help him go down the mountain for procurement.”

Anyone could misunderstand her—but not Mu-shijie.

            

“I know.” Mu Qingshi bent down and wiped the frost from her face, heartache hidden in her eyes. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here with you. From now on, I won’t let anyone bully you again.”

Qi Zhi froze for a moment, then finally couldn’t hold back her tears.

She had never imagined Mu Qingshi would come.

            

For Second Senior Sister, who had confined herself for years within Tiandao Sect, to step out of Suihan Hall for a junior sister who had been found guilty—it would surely invite a storm of gossip.

But Mu Qingshi came anyway.

That was the first time Qi Zhi learned that she, too, could be worth it.

            

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The author has something to say:

Qi Zhi (secretly badmouthing fellow disciples edition): These are secrets between me and my senior sister, so happy.

Mu Qingshi: This is my Death Note.

            

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