My Shijie Seems Intent on Destroying the World – Chapter 35
by Little PandaQuestioning the Heart
The Mingyue Banquet Begins.
Night fell. The bright moon hung high, a hair’s breadth from full.
Inside the bedchamber, candlelight burned bright.
Mu Qingshi sat leaning against the edge of the bed, leafing through a bamboo scroll she had picked up at random from the study, the bamboo slips clinking softly now and then.
Qi Zhi lay propped at the windowsill, gazing out at the scattered lights flickering to life in the distance, illuminating the silent villa.
Beyond the stars and moon, lamplight was not the only glow this night.
Without a sound, a veil of night mist rose from the jade-green lake, suffused with a faint, gentle, moon-like luminescence that draped over the entire villa. Every blade of grass, every tree, every pavilion and tower was tinged with a warm white halo.
Beneath the still lake’s surface, koi shimmered with spiritual light, surfacing briefly before swirling away trailing wisps of rosy mist, diving beneath the lotus leaves and leaving only a fading glow that bloomed in the water like ink, then slowly dissolved.
It was beautiful here, beautiful as a dream.
Had Mu Qingshi and Ah Yun not told her so much beforehand, Qi Zhi might truly have believed this was an earthly paradise. That mortals who came here would not wish to leave was only human nature.
But some things, once known, could not be unknown.
Now she only felt that beautiful-seeming things were often the most terrifying.
The great fox who loved to wrap people in spider cocoons as stored rations was like that, and so was Mingyue Villa, which stuffed human souls into wooden puppets.
The fortunate thing was that no matter how frightening these creatures were, none could compare to her Second Senior Sister, who had annihilated the entire Tiandao Sect.
And she, by some stroke of decent luck, had inexplicably earned this shijie’s favor.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t be alive to lie here gazing at the scenery.
Outside the window, the mist thickened with the deepening night.
Several servants approached through the night mist carrying lotus lanterns and knocked softly at the courtyard gate.
Qi Zhi glanced back at Mu Qingshi. Seeing her give a slight nod, she set her mind at ease and ventured boldly into the courtyard to open the closed gate.
The servants wore faint smiles as they delivered fruit and pastries into the room, then turned and departed.
Ever since learning that the villa’s servants were all puppets, the more Qi Zhi watched them, the more she noticed how their footsteps were uniform to the point of stiffness, and the smiles on their faces held no trace of life.
The courtyard gate swung shut. Qi Zhi slid the bolt into place and trotted back to the bedchamber.
The pastries of Mingyue Villa were even more extraordinary than those at Liang Family Manor. She had never seen anything like them before, each one exquisitely beautiful.
Qi Zhi stood at the table studying them for a while and couldn’t help swallowing. She wanted to eat them, but she was also a little afraid.
She turned to look at Mu Qingshi with pitiful eyes. “Shijie…”
“You can eat them.”
With Mu Qingshi’s assurance, Qi Zhi relaxed and sat down at the table, happily eating.
The first to pass her lips was a plate of snow-white slices, tender and powdery in texture, delicately sweet and fine.
The plate beside it held pastries shaped like lotus flowers, their pastry skin gossamer-thin, petals unfurling layer upon layer. The outer petals were pale white, their tips tinged with a faint blush of pink, deepening to tender crimson toward the center. The texture was both flaky and soft.
Qi Zhi had barely taken one bite before a shower of fine, sweet crumbs scattered across the table.
The last plate held cakes white as congealed cream, studded with golden dots of candied osmanthus. Small, neat diamond shapes rested on green leaves. The aroma carried not only the sweet fragrance of osmanthus but also a clean, glutinous rice scent.
Qi Zhi took a taste of each, and her eyes, which had been clouded over moments before, lit up at once.
“Shijie!” She picked up a piece of pastry and skipped over to Mu Qingshi’s side, eyes sparkling. “This one is osmanthus-flavored! It’s delicious! Try it!”
Mu Qingshi set down the bamboo scroll, her eyes curving into a gentle arc, and took a bite of the pastry Qi Zhi held to her lips.
“Well?”
“Delicious,” Mu Qingshi replied, reaching over to take the remaining half.
Qi Zhi spun back to the table and brought one of each of the other two pastries over.
Qi Zhi: “Shijie, try this one!”
Mu Qingshi: “This one is good too.”
Qi Zhi: “And this one!”
Mu Qingshi: “They’re all good.”
Qi Zhi pouted, thinking to herself—
Ah Yun was right. No matter what she offered Mu Qingshi, Mu Qingshi would only smile and say it was good, just like an adult humoring a child. But if she truly liked something, finishing one piece should make her want another.
Mu Qingshi always seemed to be this mild and detached, as though she disliked nothing and liked nothing either.
Qi Zhi found it a bit disheartening and sat back down at the table, eating in sulky silence.
As she ate, Mu Qingshi suddenly rose from the bed, walked over to the table, and sat down beside her. She reached for a pastry—the one with osmanthus.
Qi Zhi couldn’t help asking, “Shijie likes this one?”
“Mm,” Mu Qingshi murmured, eyes lowered, a faint smile on her lips. “This flavor rather brings back the years on the mountain.”
The sudden mention of the past left Qi Zhi at a loss for words, and she hastily stuffed a large bite of pastry into her mouth.
In the old days, she rarely got to taste anything sweet. Only once a year, when making osmanthus jam, could she receive some cane sugar from the sect.
If she didn’t go scavenge meals at Suihan Hall, osmanthus jam was the sweetest, finest thing she could ever eat.
Never having known anything better, she always treasured such an ordinary thing, delivering some to Suihan Hall from time to time.
Day after day, she hoped that Mu Qingshi would use a little of it, whether brewing tea or making anything else, and would thus remember her fondly.
Back then, her head was full of dreams of growing up, of coming of age, of becoming Mu Qingshi’s Daoist partner.
Looking back on it now, it really was… somewhat too embarrassing to recall.
Qi Zhi’s gaze grew vacant with thought. The pastry she had just stuffed into her mouth suddenly stuck in her throat—she couldn’t swallow it down, couldn’t spit it out.
She snapped back to her senses, scrambled to pour a cup of tea, tilted her head back and gulped it down, washing the pastry down her throat by force. She pounded her chest and coughed violently several times.
“Eat slowly. No one’s going to fight you for it.” Mu Qingshi’s brow creased slightly as she gently patted Qi Zhi’s back.
Qi Zhi recovered after a moment, waved her hand with a guilty conscience, then picked up another piece from the plate and resumed eating in small bites.
“Just choked, and already eating again.” Mu Qingshi couldn’t help but laugh. “Is it really that good?”
Qi Zhi nodded and looked up to ask, “Has Shijie eaten pastries like these before?”
Mu Qingshi: “I have.”
Qi Zhi: “So they have them in other places too!”
“Mm,” Mu Qingshi smiled. “They’re not common in ordinary places, but if you like them, I can take you to Yu City to eat them in the future.”
Yu City was the Imperial City of the mortal realm. Things you could only eat in Yu City must truly be rare…
While she could eat now, she’d better eat her fill.
That night, Qi Zhi ate and drank, filling her previously empty stomach on pastries alone.
Mu Qingshi told her that the white slices were cloud slice cake, and the lotus-shaped ones were called lotus pastry.
Before she could finish, Qi Zhi pointed at the osmanthus-flavored glutinous rice cake. “Then this one is osmanthus cake!”
“This is osmanthus cake, also called Guanghan cake1.” Mu Qingshi’s eyes held a smile as she spoke softly. “Osmanthus blooms around Mid-Autumn. This osmanthus rice cake, enjoyed with fermented rice wine while viewing the moon, couldn’t be more fitting.”
Hearing this, Qi Zhi blinked, then suddenly picked up a piece of Guanghan cake and skipped to the window, tilting her head up to gaze at the moon on the horizon.
“You’re supposed to eat it while looking at the moon, right?” She reached her hand outside the window, holding the Guanghan cake up high.
Tonight was the fourteenth. The moon was already quite round, looking not much different from Mid-Autumn.
“That’s right,” Mu Qingshi replied, walking slowly to stand behind Qi Zhi, her gaze lightly brushing over the tiny white flowers scattered in her hair.
As her lips curved, she too seemed touched by a faint wash of moonlight.
The night had grown deep. In the distance, blurred by mist, lights still burned bright, as though everyone who had entered Mingyue Villa was reluctant to fall asleep.
Qi Zhi finished the pastry in her hand and lingered at the window, gazing out for a good while longer.
When drowsiness finally overtook her, she washed up and climbed into bed.
…
The next morning, the thin mist over the lake dispersed.
Servants delivered breakfast, and as they left, they offered a reminder—the Mingyue Banquet would open tonight at You Hour. When the time came, someone would arrive to guide them.
Qi Zhi didn’t dare wander off. She sat under the scholar tree, waiting and waiting, until finally her guide arrived.
The Mingyue Banquet was held at the Lake-Heart Pavilion. There were no covered bridges connecting it; the only way there was by boat.
A small boat swayed gently, gliding past cluster after cluster of lotus flowers.
The lotus blossoms were vivid and lovely, their leaves gently curled.
Not far away, another servant poled a boat, carrying a guest toward the lake’s center.
One lotus bud, yet to open, brushed past them carrying a hint of coolness.
Qi Zhi’s heart stirred. She tapped the bud lightly with her fingertip. The bud quivered and slowly unfurled its petals.
The next second, the smile on the girl’s face bloomed as radiantly as that newly opened lotus.
She didn’t dare make a sound, only reached out and tugged at Mu Qingshi’s sleeve.
Mu Qingshi turned to look, and a smile rose in her eyes as well.
By the time the boat reached the lake’s center, the sky had already dimmed.
As Mu Qingshi helped Qi Zhi off the boat, she looked up and spotted a familiar figure in the distance.
Silk flowers pinned in her hair, a pale purple dress, a long sword at her waist.
Qi Zhi’s eyes lit up and she instinctively wanted to go over and greet her, but Mu Qingshi gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
She startled, then quickly caught on.
Since they had split up to act separately, going over to greet her now would be as good as announcing their connection.
She was supposed to pretend they didn’t know each other.
With this in mind, Qi Zhi kept her head down and followed at Mu Qingshi’s side into the Lake-Heart Pavilion, draped on all sides with sheer gauze curtains.
At the head of the Lake-Heart Pavilion stood an exquisitely carved beauty couch of huanghuali wood.
Several meters away on either side, five low tables were arranged, each with a soft cushion beside it. On each table burned a candle that glowed with the hue of moonlight.
A man across the table laughed heartily at the candlelight before he’d even taken his seat. “This candle must be the Moon Candle, unique to Mingyue Villa!”
Those nearby chimed in with admiration. “They say the Moon Candle’s glow is soft as moonlight and has the power to soothe the mind and calm the spirit. Seeing it today, it truly is wondrous!”
A middle-aged man in splendid brocade by the entrance laughed aloud. “It’s only a Moon Candle. When Yinmeng arrives later, now that will be something to marvel at!”
At the mention of Yinmeng, the guests fell to eager chatter.
Outside, the night deepened. Inside, the seat of honor remained empty. Guests arrived one after another, moving freely and conversing among themselves.
Those who could come here were presumably all people of considerable status, and so they treated one another with great courtesy.
Ling Qiansu was rather different. She was quite pretty, yet from her dress she did not appear to be anyone of prominence. Several people came forward to chat her up in succession, their eyes carrying a barely concealed appraisal, as though sizing up a “fine trinket.”
She had always followed at her Master’s side. Wherever she went, whomever she met, people treated her with a measure of respect. When had she ever dealt with a situation like this? For a moment she didn’t know what to do, her gaze darting several times toward Mu Qingshi not far away, yet unable to go over and acknowledge her.
On the other side, Mu Qingshi saw someone approaching with a cup raised and silently closed her eyes.
No spiritual light was visible, yet an inexplicable chill seeped outward.
The chill enveloped Qi Zhi beside her as well. Every person who tried to approach chose to retreat the instant they felt it.
This chill was invisible to ordinary people, but in Ling Qiansu’s eyes it was a barrier.
She followed suit. Her ten fingers, hidden beneath the table, swiftly formed a seal, and a small barrier sprang up around her.
Cultivators all had arts to protect themselves. Those holding tokens, seeing she had no interest in conversation, didn’t dare provoke her in the slightest and turned away to find other company.
The gauze curtains drifted in the breeze. Night mist rose from the lake. From time to time someone would ask—You Hour had already passed, so when exactly would the Mingyue Banquet begin?
Suddenly, the gauze curtains all around drifted down.
The lake’s surface shimmered with soft white moonlight. A graceful figure appeared, hair pinned in a cloud-like coiffure, white robes fluttering.
She came gliding across the water as though treading on air, the tips of her feet lightly touching the half-fallen gauze, carrying a wisp of lotus fragrance as she drifted down onto the beauty couch.
Red lips parted, and a single phrase reached them: “Let the banquet begin.”
The soft words carried an ethereal quality, as though resonating directly in each listener’s ear.
The mist thickened in an instant, obscuring the world beyond the pavilion.
A moment later, the mist thinned, suffused with a faint wash of moonlight.
A zither melody rose softly. The guests turned toward the sound but could not find its source.
Through the thin mist, a dozen-odd dancers surrounded the pavilion, dancing in the moonlight and wind.
One after another, maidservants of delicate beauty, wearing nearly identical smiles, stepped lightly forward bearing jade platters and jade cups, and amid gasps of wonder, laid the feast upon every table.
The author has something to say:
Qi Zhi: Never seen anything like it, starstruck!
Ling Qiansu: So powerful!
Mu Qingshi: Such a show-off.
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