My Shijie Seems Intent on Destroying the World – Chapter 22
by Little PandaQuestioning the Heart
“When Have I Ever Lied to You?”
Qi Zhi had assumed that once Mu Qingshi decided to leave, the two visitors would depart after pouring out their regrets, laments, and reluctance.
But people long unseen always had too much to say, and in the dim guest room, candles were lit.
The three of them chatted and eventually drifted to six hundred years ago.
Back then, Tiandao Sect was not yet the foremost immortal sect, and the Daoist Venerable was not yet the Daoist Venerable—merely the newly appointed Sect Master of Tiandao Sect with only three disciples beneath him. Naturally, there was no shortage of old memories to revisit.
Qi Zhi sat to one side, listening quietly. At first she worried Mu Qingshi might slip up, but she soon realized her performance was utterly airtight—every detail matched perfectly, as though she truly were the brilliantly gifted Second Senior Sister of Tiandao Sect from all those years ago.
But if she truly was the Second Senior Sister, where did that black moon come from?
And why did Ah Yun follow her so faithfully?
Qi Zhi: “…”
Better not to think about it if she couldn’t figure it out.
Qi Zhi pouted and went back to shelling peanuts.
As the three reminisced, peanut shells piled across the table and scattered quite a few on the floor.
Ah Yun, stuffed full of peanut after peanut, shook her head, flapped her small wings, and fluttered up to the ceiling beam with a patter of wings. She tucked herself in and closed her eyes.
With nothing left to do and no way to join the conversation, Qi Zhi simply slumped softly against the table, staring blankly at the candle flame.
In her daze, she heard things she had never known about the Second Senior Sister of Tiandao Sect.
In most people’s accounts, Mu Qingshi was aloof and remote—unapproachable, beyond reach.
But in Ming Songxue’s telling, Mu Qingshi was someone rather different.
She would be pestered helplessly by a clingy shimei, practicing swordplay with her, stealing moments of leisure together.
They had gathered osmanthus together, knocked dates off trees, sneaked down the mountain, and been punished by their Master with long hours of kneeling.
Not only that, she had accompanied Ming Songxue into secret realms and through sword tombs, helping her obtain the natal sword most compatible with her spiritual root—Suiqiong.
The more Qi Zhi listened, the more she felt that the Second Senior Sister of those years had been genuinely good to Third Senior Sister.
If the Mu Qingshi she had known all this time was indeed the same person as the Second Senior Sister in Ming Songxue’s stories.
That autumn in the Osmanthus Grove—had Mu Qingshi perhaps seen the shadow of Third Senior Sister in her, a little grass?
And here she had been worrying that Mu Qingshi might make a move on Eldest Senior Brother and Third Senior Sister. Looking at it now, she had been making a fool of herself. The bond between her two senior sisters was just fine.
At this thought, Qi Zhi couldn’t help grumbling inwardly—
This charcoal brazier wasn’t very warm either. It crackled and popped, yet the room was still chilly.
Qi Zhi sniffled. Suddenly her chest felt tight—probably from pressing against it while slumped over the table.
She silently shifted her posture, scooting back a little, resting her chin on the tabletop with her chest hanging free, both arms stretched far forward—slumping even more like a puddle of mush.
Mu Qingshi glanced down at her, the corners of her lips curving up slightly. She reached out and patted Qi Zhi’s head, naturally and without fuss.
Qi Zhi turned to look at her, meeting those gentle eyes.
After a brief moment of daze, Qi Zhi blinked, and a smile tugged at her own lips too.
Sure enough—change the posture, and the tightness in her chest eased.
“Ah Xue was always clinging to you back then. You asked Master for Suihan Hall just for some peace and quiet, but she’d still come find you the moment she had free time.” Shen Zhuxing teased Ming Songxue from the side. “I asked her—we all had the same Master, what sword technique could she possibly need from Qingshi that I couldn’t teach? She just hugged her sword and shook her head, unable to articulate anything, only mumbling over and over, ‘Second Senior Sister is just different.'”
“Second Senior Sister is just different…” Ming Songxue rested her chin in her hand and murmured softly. “Second Senior Sister is wonderful at everything. She just doesn’t much care to engage with people.”
“Back then I always thought—if only I’d joined the sect later. I was the Eldest Senior Brother, yet I fell short of Qingshi at every turn. Quite laughable, really.” Shen Zhuxing smiled and shook his head, self-deprecating. “Though there wasn’t much point comparing. My talent couldn’t match hers. Hundreds of years have passed, and I still haven’t reached the realm Qingshi held back then.”
Mu Qingshi smiled faintly. “That was back then. Now you are Tiandao Sect’s only hope. No one will ever compare you to me again.”
Shen Zhuxing: “But with my current strength, I fear I may struggle to lead Tiandao Sect’s remaining disciples through this crisis…”
Mu Qingshi: “There will be a way. Ruoyu hasn’t returned yet.”
Ming Songxue nodded. “Once shixiong breaks through this bottleneck, he’ll reach the Heavenly Tribulation Realm. Few in the world would be his equal! Tiandao Sect will surely make it through this!”
Qi Zhi sat up straight and added a serious, earnest “Mm!” of her own: “Everything will be fine!”
After saying so, she glanced at Mu Qingshi instinctively. Seeing the amusement in her eyes deepening, she quickly shut her mouth, conscience stricken.
The real culprit could playact all she liked.
But she was just an accomplice—what right did she have to comfort the victims? She’d be better off obediently currying favor with the true culprit!
Speaking of currying favor—Mu Qingshi hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
Qi Zhi: “shijie.”
The sudden address made both Ming Songxue and Mu Qingshi turn to look at her.
Qi Zhi paused, then added in a small voice, “Second Senior Sister…”
Ming Songxue opened her mouth but said nothing, merely shifting her gaze back to Mu Qingshi.
Mu Qingshi: “Mm?”
Qi Zhi: “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? The shop made fresh wontons today. Should I go order you a bowl?”
Mu Qingshi’s eyes curved into a smile. “Sure.”
Qi Zhi scrambled to her feet, bounded out of the guest room in a few steps, leaned over the railing to scan the floor below, spotted the waiter, and trotted straight over.
By the time she returned with a steaming bowl of wontons, the conversation among the three had turned serious again.
“All these years, Yue Jinzhu had been secretly refining pills through forbidden arts. The moment Tiandao Sect fell, she dared to make a move on you—she must have known something.”
Qi Zhi listened to Shen Zhuxing’s words as she walked to the table and set the wonton bowl before Mu Qingshi.
“Refining divine souls into pills, consuming flesh for sustenance…” Ming Songxue’s brow furrowed deeply, her tone grave. “The people suspended in that hidden chamber alone would have yielded enough for many pills. She’d been entrenched here for so long—there are likely many more whose flesh and blood were long since devoured, not even a corpse left behind.”
Qi Zhi glanced instinctively at Ah Yun, who seemed to be asleep on the beam, then slipped back to her earlier seat as quietly as a ghost.
Shen Zhuxing glanced at her and continued: “If she refined those pills only for her own consumption, her cultivation would be unfathomably deep—she wouldn’t have been subdued by a single burst of Master’s sword qi. So where did the pills go? And where did the demonic qi go?”
“This was likely an exchange.” Mu Qingshi followed their reasoning with a hypothesis. “She refined pills for someone, and in return, that person gave her protection.”
“The demonic qi hidden in the tripod may have come from that person.” Ming Songxue analyzed carefully. “They’ve been lying low for a long time without anyone noticing. Their strength is likely unfathomable.”
Shen Zhuxing said in a low voice: “Not long ago, demonic qi was also detected near Muxue Valley. The one behind this may be targeting the Four Spiritual Veins.”
Ming Songxue: “Because Tiandao Sect sealed the demonic sword, it became the first target…”
Mu Qingshi slowly lowered her lashes, appearing deeply worried.
Qi Zhi bit her lower lip. She knew everything—yet could say nothing.
She could only watch as Mu Qingshi, with a few casual remarks, led Shen Zhuxing and Ming Songxue’s reasoning astray by a hundred and eight thousand miles.
At last, Ming Songxue sighed heavily, fraught with worry. “The one who slaughtered the entire mountain that day and took the demonic sword—could it be Demon Venerable Huiyue?”
Qi Zhi couldn’t help glancing at Mu Qingshi.
Mu Qingshi: “Perhaps.”
Qi Zhi: “…”
Ming Songxue: “But if she truly escaped with a remnant soul and spent years scheming in secret, finally accumulating enough power to break one seal—why would she choose the demonic sword instead of freeing herself completely?”
Mu Qingshi was silent a moment, then said softly, “Perhaps she simply had no way to break the other seal.”
The words fell, and the room went quiet.
After a long silence, Shen Zhuxing rose with a light sigh to say his farewells, and Ming Songxue followed him out.
Mu Qingshi gazed at the candle flame flickering on the table, the light in her eyes wavering between bright and dark, her thoughts drifting to who knows where.
The wontons before her sat untouched, nearly cold.
Qi Zhi pursed her lips, staring at that bowl of wontons for a good while, then couldn’t help speaking up: “Mu-shijie, the wontons are getting cold… They’re really good.”
Mu Qingshi snapped out of her reverie, smiled, picked up her chopsticks, and ate the entire bowl in front of her.
After finishing, she asked casually, “Were you upset just now?”
Qi Zhi: “No.”
Mu Qingshi: “Then why were you slumped so ungracefully?”
“You were all talking, and I couldn’t get a word in.” Qi Zhi muttered under her breath. “I was bored. Did I need to look good while slumping?”
Mu Qingshi: “All of that was because she pestered me for it.”
Qi Zhi’s eyes couldn’t help lighting up, but the next second she turned her head away, not quite believing it. “With Mu-shijie’s words, it’s hard to tell what’s true and what’s false.”
Mu Qingshi tilted her head slightly, looking into Qi Zhi’s eyes. “When have I ever lied to you?”
Qi Zhi: “You made me think you were my Second Senior Sister.”
Mu Qingshi: “Am I not?”
Qi Zhi: “…” She seemed to be, and yet she didn’t seem to be.
Qi Zhi frowned, trying to remember for a good while, and realized that if she set that one point aside, Mu Qingshi genuinely hadn’t lied to her about anything.
Everything she’d promised, she had done.
Things she hadn’t promised—she seemed to have done quite a lot of those too…
Hiss—
How could this be? She actually couldn’t think of a single instance where Mu Qingshi had lied to her.
“Why so quiet?” Mu Qingshi couldn’t help teasing her with a smile. “Thought about it for ages and realized you’re still in the wrong?”
Qi Zhi was momentarily stumped. She lowered her eyes and muttered, “I already helped you lie… what more do you want…”
“Nothing more.” Mu Qingshi rubbed Qi Zhi’s head, her voice soft. “You’ve already lied for me. From now on, you and I are grasshoppers on the same string1. No turning back now.”
For all that it sounded like a threat, Qi Zhi didn’t feel afraid.
“I never thought about turning back anyway.” She looked at Mu Qingshi and said softly, “Just remember what you promised me, shijie.”
Mu Qingshi nodded, gazing at Qi Zhi with a faint smile.
Qi Zhi’s heart filled with joy. “Then rest well, shijie!”
With that, she scooped up the bowl and chopsticks from before Mu Qingshi and dashed out the door and downstairs.
The little girl was always bouncing and skipping—going up and down the stairs made a whole racket.
Mu Qingshi closed her eyes and focused her divine sense, quietly listening as she went downstairs to return the bowl and chopsticks, then bounced back to her own room, rustling and clattering with who knows what.
She chuckled and shook her head, no longer extending her divine sense to listen.
Up on the ceiling beam, Ah Yun cracked open one eye, ruffled her small wings, and made a “tsk tsk” sound.
Mu Qingshi looked up at her. “What’s that sound about?”
Ah Yun: “Just marveling at how you’re getting better and better at deceiving people.”
Mu Qingshi: “Want to learn?”
Ah Yun: “No need. When it comes to situations requiring false sentiment, I’ll just be a little bird.”
Mu Qingshi smiled, poured herself a cup of water, and warmed it slightly with spiritual energy.
Ah Yun fluttered down from the beam and hopped twice on the table. “I’m thirsty too! I want some!”
Mu Qingshi took a sip, then warmed a cup for her as well.
The little bird tucked back her wings, stuck out her tail, and pecked at the water in the teacup.
Slender fingers rubbed her tiny body. The fingertips were cold, but she didn’t pull away.
Mu Qingshi: “Ah Yun.”
Ah Yun: “Mm?”
Mu Qingshi: “Has this injury of mine been dragging on too long?”
Ah Yun nodded with conviction. “It’s been a bit deliberate!”
Mu Qingshi: “Then it’s about time. Let’s set off.”
Ah Yun: “Are we going to Mount Han?”
“Mm.” Mu Qingshi assented softly.
Ah Yun tilted her little head and shook it. “That’s not someone who’s easy to deal with.”
“In this world, there is nothing I wish to do that I cannot accomplish.”
Mu Qingshi said it plainly, then rose and returned to the bed.
The red sun rose newly, shining over a vast expanse of white snow.
Early-rising vendors set up their stalls one after another, and the streets gradually grew lively.
The heavy snow that had fallen for over half a month had, without anyone noticing, stopped three days ago.
The thaw was always the coldest time.
Inside the guest room, Qi Zhi crouched by the warm charcoal brazier, unable to stop wondering: would the snow on Mount Qiongju, like in Qingxi Commandery, have already begun to slowly melt?
Once all the snow melted, those corpses that couldn’t be found before would probably be discovered…
It wasn’t a kind thought, but please, please—heavens protect them—Mu Qingshi had better not have accidentally left behind any evidence when she massacred the sect!
It had been ten days since the demonic sword Powang broke its seal, and the major immortal sects were still waiting for an explanation from Tiandao Sect.
Shen Zhuxing and Ming Songxue, concerned with the demonic sword’s whereabouts and anxious to use Yue Jinzhu’s residual spiritual aura to track down the missing pills and demonic qi, stayed in Qingxi Commandery for only three short days.
They could have left earlier, but although Yue Jinzhu’s horrifying hidden chamber had been cleaned out, the locals still couldn’t feel at ease. They flocked to the inn where the two were staying, jostling to beg the “immortals” from Tiandao Sect for talismans, wishing they could plaster them over every door and window.
All that coming and going had delayed them considerably.
Before leaving, Shen Zhuxing called Qi Zhi aside to a corner of the inn. Without saying much, he pressed a Qiankun Bag into her hands and told her to be good and follow Second Senior Sister from now on. If she encountered any injustice, she should send word back to Tiandao Sect and not try to be brave. The world beyond the mountain was far more dangerous than she imagined.
Qi Zhi held the Qiankun Bag, nodding blankly.
She thought that Eldest Senior Brother would never in his wildest dreams imagine that the greatest danger beyond the mountain might well be the Second Senior Sister she was supposed to follow.
Shen Zhuxing finished his brief instructions, turned, and left the inn. Ming Songxue, who had been waiting outside, waved to Qi Zhi, then departed with him—transforming into a streak of spiritual light that vanished into the distance.
Qi Zhi chased to the doorway, watching the two streaks of light disappear from view, a thread of reluctance tugging at her heart.
Ah Yun, who had been playing the part of a bird for three days, was finally free to stop pretending. She appeared silently behind Qi Zhi, eyed the Qiankun Bag in her hands, and asked out of nowhere, “Got anything in there?”
Qi Zhi jumped. When she came back to herself, her eyes had gone wide.
Seeing that it was Ah Yun behind her, she exhaled in relief and answered blankly, “What, what?”
“I said, is there anything inside?” Ah Yun curiously poked at the Qiankun Bag in Qi Zhi’s hands. “The great first disciple of the Daoist Venerable—he wouldn’t just give you an empty bag, would he?”
A Qiankun Bag wasn’t exactly a rare treasure. With sufficiently high cultivation, one could cultivate an internal spiritual pouch—storing precious things inside where no one could seize them, far more convenient than a Qiankun Bag.
If he’d really only given an empty bag, probably only a sheltered little thing like Qi Zhi would be touched by it.
Reminded by Ah Yun, Qi Zhi ducked into a corner, found an empty table, and reached into the Qiankun Bag to rummage through it.
What she pulled out were handful after handful of talismans.
Protective ones, concealment ones, messaging ones…
Her shixiong and shijie knew her cultivation was low—the talismans they left were all the kind that needed only a trace of spiritual energy to activate.
Handful after handful, as if afraid she wouldn’t have enough, practically drawing enough talismans to last her a lifetime.
Qi Zhi rummaged for a long while, and finally, beneath a great pile of talismans, she felt a small pouch.
She pulled it out for a look—it was full of gleaming white silver.
It seemed like quite a lot, but Qi Zhi didn’t have much sense for amounts of money.
“Passable, I guess. I thought it’d be nothing but some broken talismans. At least there’s something usable, though it’s not much.” Ah Yun withdrew her gaze, crossed her arms against the table’s edge, and shook her head with a sigh. “Looks like being an Immortal Master in the Imperial City doesn’t pay much either.”
Qi Zhi blinked and carefully gathered up what Ah Yun had called “broken talismans.”
She clutched the Qiankun Bag tightly, her heart warm.
“Has the medicine been brewed?” Ah Yun, watching from the side for a while, couldn’t help remarking.
“Not yet!” Qi Zhi snapped to attention, frowned, and hurried back to her room to brew today’s dose of medicinal soup.
While the medicine was brewing, she took the hairpin from her pouch, secretly played with it in her hands for a while, then carefully placed it into the Qiankun Bag.
The interior of a Qiankun Bag contained its own space—unlike the various bags and pouches on her person, things inside wouldn’t easily get bumped or jostled.
With the hairpin stored in there, she could feel much more at ease.
When the medicine was ready, Qi Zhi picked up the bowl and brought it to Mu Qingshi’s room.
The wound on Mu Qingshi’s shoulder was healing steadily—the demon venom had presumably dispersed, and full recovery was only a matter of days.
Qi Zhi had been eagerly looking forward to leaving this place, assuming she’d have to wait several more days. To her surprise, while helping change the dressing, she heard Mu Qingshi ask her softly, “Shall we set off tomorrow?”
Qi Zhi: “Tomorrow?”
Mu Qingshi: “Mm.”
Qi Zhi: “Your wound hasn’t fully healed yet, shijie.”
Mu Qingshi: “It’s fine now.”
Qi Zhi tilted her head, looking doubtful.
“They’re just flesh wounds. The demon venom has dispersed—no pain, no itch.” Mu Qingshi smiled. “If you insist on waiting for the scab to fully form and fall off, wouldn’t that take ten days to half a month?”
“I suppose so…” Qi Zhi nodded.
She thought she was awfully easy to persuade.
“So—where are we going?” Qi Zhi asked softly, seeming to have no direction in mind, yet harboring her own little hope.
“What do you think?” Mu Qingshi looked at her with a smile.
Qi Zhi turned the porcelain bottle in her hand, her eyes darting. “Mount Han?”
Mu Qingshi gave a soft “Mm,” her eyes curving as she asked, “Shall we leave tomorrow?”
“Let’s go!” Qi Zhi said, tying a small butterfly bow on Mu Qingshi’s shoulder as usual.
“shijie, is Mount Han very far?”
“Very far.”
“How long will it take to get there?”
“I don’t know either.”
“If we could fly, it would be much faster!”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“No, no!” Qi Zhi said. “Let’s just walk there slowly. There’ll definitely be lots of delicious food and fun things along the way!”
—Let’s just walk there slowly like this.
Qi Zhi thought to herself.
Maybe they wouldn’t necessarily get to meet the Master of Mount Han.
Or maybe they would meet him, and he wouldn’t be willing, or perhaps wouldn’t even be able to repair her spiritual root.
She did have hope in her heart, but she wasn’t particularly desperate for a definitive answer.
And besides—if. She was just saying if.
If Mu Qingshi truly was the world-destroying demon of legend, then by pulling her along to keep her company on this slow journey, might everything possibly turn out differently?
She knew she was naive.
But Mu Qingshi had also said that what she promised, she would not go back on.
So far, Mu Qingshi had not yet lied to her.
Being a little naive—surely that wasn’t too much to ask?
The author has something to say:
Little Grass has officially bid farewell to the past and is ready to start a new life with her shijie!
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