My Shijie Seems Intent on Destroying the World – Chapter 38

Questioning the Heart

Time to Renew the Dream.

Qi Zhi woke far too late; outside the window, the sun was already three poles high¹.

In the room, three people and one bird sat around the square table inside a soundproof barrier, gravely discussing the latest discovery.

            

Gravely — well, not especially gravely, in truth.

Qi Zhi had only just woken, her stomach empty, and was presently burying her flushed little face in the meal the servants had delivered earlier.

She ate with such relish that little noises escaped her despite herself.

            

Mu Qingshi sat beside her, comb in hand, combing out her hair — and the others, mid-discussion, kept finding their attention drifting despite themselves.

As for the “latest discovery,” it was hardly new at all.

Ling Qiansu’s cultivation was nothing to scoff at, and after one of Ah Yun’s “offhand” hints, she naturally uncovered Mingyue Villa’s greatest secret in short order.

            

—Every servant in the villa was merely a wooden puppet imprisoning a fragmented soul!

But then, at this very moment, in this very room — who besides Ling Qiansu didn’t already know?

Mu Qingshi and Ah Yun alike were both putting on a play for her benefit.

            

Poor direct disciple of the Sword Venerable — naive as the little grass of old — she gripped the sword at her waist and analyzed the matter with Mu Qingshi in earnest detail, entirely unaware that the only reason she’d managed the discovery at all was that someone had been deliberately leading her there.

Qi Zhi watched it all, daring only to keep her head down and shovel food, not daring a single word.

“This is far too strange. Drawing a soul out of its living flesh and sealing it inside a dead thing to make it ‘live’… are you certain that isn’t a forbidden art? Having one’s soul torn from the body — what agony that must be. Yet not a single wisp of resentful qi remains.” Ling Qiansu’s brow furrowed, disbelief brimming in her eyes. “How is it even done?”

            

“Why are you agonizing over that?” On the table, Ah Yun stood with her wings folded behind her back, leaning against the teapot. “Even if you knew how it’s done, what then — you’d make one to play with?”

“No — no, of course not!” Ling Qiansu shook her head at once, explaining in earnest. “I only mean that the Yinmeng, harmless as it looks, must be playing a crucial role in all this. We have to find a way to save the people drowning in these dreams…”

At this, Qi Zhi nodded without thinking.

            

Ah Yun, thoroughly unimpressed, tilted her head up. “And what exactly are we saving them for? The ones who stoop to anything for a single Mingyue Token — squandering whole family fortunes, abandoning wives and children — just to stay in a dream of their own free will?”

Ling Qiansu’s mouth opened, then closed. All the dreams she’d glimpsed these past days kept surfacing in her mind.

All those honored guests — respectable to the eye by daylight, yet in their dreams their hypocrisy and selfishness laid utterly bare, every last one of them a greedy, unbridled creature.

            

Anyone of truly clear mind, however many regrets they carried, ought to leave after one great dream — return to the place that was properly theirs and shoulder the responsibilities that had always been theirs to bear. How else would the desires of the heart devour every last scrap of what was real?

“But… having seen it, how can I simply look away…” Hesitation flickered through Ling Qiansu’s eyes; after a moment of silence, her voice firmed again. “Even if some of them don’t deserve saving — what of their families? What of the people hurt for the sake of one jade token? I must expose Mingyue Villa’s lies to everyone, or more and more people will be dragged in!”

“And how will you expose it?” Ah Yun shot back. “Run off right now and tell the ones drunk on life and dreaming through death² — ‘You’ve all been swindled! Keep drinking like this and sooner or later you’ll be stuffed into a little wooden puppet to work for free!’ Then leave this place and wander the land telling everyone you meet — Mingyue Villa has problems, big problems, don’t any of you go!”

            

She flapped her wings and gave two dry caws of laughter. “Let’s see if a single soul believes you.”

Ling Qiansu: “…”

Mu Qingshi finished tying Qi Zhi’s hair into a bun, returned to the table, and said softly, “Unflattering rumors about Mingyue Villa are hardly unknown outside these walls — and they’ve never once stopped the curiosity and greed at the bottom of people’s hearts. If you truly mean to intervene, exposure is useless. The whole scheme must be broken.”

            

Compared with Ah Yun’s snide needling, Mu Qingshi’s words were far easier on the ears.

Ling Qiansu nodded, deeply moved, gazing at Mu Qingshi as though she had found a kindred spirit.

“This Villa Master Yin sounds rather formidable.” Qi Zhi looked over at Mu Qingshi, venturing the question. “Could we… beat her?”

            

Mu Qingshi patted her head, brows curving. “Naturally — we’ll outwit her. More or less.”

Qi Zhi: “Fair enough…”

There was an outsider present, after all. Appearances had to be kept up.

            

Unless Mu Qingshi planned to kill everyone here, it really wasn’t convenient to solve everything the crude way — with a demon sword.

Which meant, by this reasoning, that in the play Mu Qingshi had staged so deliberately, Ling Qiansu wasn’t merely the witness — she’d have to serve as the strongest fighter on the righteous side, too.

Thinking this, Qi Zhi found herself looking at Ling Qiansu, a flicker of small, unnoticed tenderness passing through her eyes.

            

“I’ve heard it said that after waking, if you wish to renew the dream, you must hand over your memories of it.” Ling Qiansu was at a complete loss. “What does Yinsha want with these memories? Surely not merely to look at them?”

Ah Yun snickered. “If it were me, I really would just look. Watching all those people dream their grand spring-and-autumn dreams³ — what fun!”

The words had barely left her beak before Mu Qingshi pressed a fingertip gently down on her little head — a signal not to make trouble.

            

Ah Yun instantly ceased her bird-brained chatter and scooted closer to Qi Zhi’s side, as if seeking sanctuary.

Qi Zhi gathered her into the crook of her arm without thinking and stroked her little head a few times with her thumb.

Beside them, Ling Qiansu carried on.

            

“I keep feeling she has some other use for these dream memories. If a strand of spiritual power could be hidden inside them, we might have a chance of tracing something.” Her expression clouded as she went on. “Peeking into another’s dream is easy enough. But tampering with it — without alerting the dream’s master… that is genuinely difficult.”

Ling Qiansu said she’d forced the wine’s effects out of her system last night and never entered a dream at all; she regretted it now, though it was rather too late.

To which Mu Qingshi replied, “Nor did I.”

            

Ah Yun tilted her head up. “I did sneak a couple of sips the day before, and dreamed a bit! But I’m not a guest — I can’t exactly hand them over to her!”

Qi Zhi blinked, ducked her head, and leaned close to Ah Yun, asking in the tiniest of voices, “What did you dream about?”

Ah Yun turned it back on her. “What did you dream about?”

            

Qi Zhi pressed her lips together and didn’t dare answer.

She thought that Ah Yun’s question was probably a polite refusal — a way of telling her that dreams laid bare one’s truest desires, that they were deeply private things, not to be asked about lightly.

And really, the things in her dream — she truly couldn’t say them aloud.

            

A little useless grass who wanted to become an immortal.

Who became one, too — purely by eating, drinking, and puttering about with flowers and plants.

And after becoming an immortal, built a Mingyue Villa of her very own, and pestered Mu Qingshi every single day to keep her company — eat with her, drink with her, demand this and that…

            

How could she possibly be so delusional?

Lost in these thoughts, Qi Zhi suddenly noticed how very quiet the room had grown.

Guilty-hearted, she glanced up — to find both Mu Qingshi and Ling Qiansu staring at her.

            

Qi Zhi: “Huh?”

Ah Yun: “Don’t go ‘huh’ — everyone’s counting on you to renew a dream.”

Ling Qiansu: “If we can leave a strand of spiritual power inside your dream, we’ll learn where these dreams go — and what they’re ultimately used for.”

            

Qi Zhi’s mouth hung open, nearly blank with shock. She looked at Ling Qiansu, then at Mu Qingshi.

“Th-then… what I dreamed, you — you’ll see that too?” she mumbled, very small.

“Um…” Ling Qiansu considered, then put it delicately. “Only a — a tiny bit. I’ll leave the spiritual power and withdraw at once. I promise not to look around.”

            

As she spoke, she glanced instinctively at Mu Qingshi. “If Miss Mu could do it instead, that would be even better!”

At that, Qi Zhi panicked for an instant.

Anything but that!

            

With the absurd scenarios playing in her dream, if Mu Qingshi ever saw them, she’d truly have no face left to stay aboard this crooked boat of theirs!

Mu Qingshi glanced at Qi Zhi and smiled ruefully. “I fear I lack the ability, these days.”

“My apologies!” Ling Qiansu looked embarrassed, turning to Qi Zhi. “Then it falls to me after all?”

            

“Aiyo, hurry it up!” Ah Yun pressed. “The rabbit’s coming to collect the dreams soon — you mean to do your tampering right in front of it?”

Ling Qiansu rose at once and went to stand by the folding screen, beckoning Qi Zhi over.

Qi Zhi followed, hesitating.

            

Seeing her nerves, Ling Qiansu hastened to reassure her. “It will sting a little, but don’t be afraid. The spiritual power will only enter your memories — it won’t harm you yourself.”

“All right…” Qi Zhi clasped her skirt tightly in both hands and looked up at Ling Qiansu, voice very small. “You have to promise me — whatever you see, you can never tell anyone.”

“I promise!” Ling Qiansu nodded, her eyes full of earnestness.

            

Still uneasy, Qi Zhi carefully extended one little finger. Ling Qiansu smiled and hooked it with her own. “There now. Close your eyes.”

Qi Zhi closed her eyes.

The next second, Ling Qiansu’s hands wove seals, and she sent a strand of purple spiritual light into Qi Zhi’s brow.

            

The foreign spiritual power coursed through her divine sense like an electric current, and she couldn’t help wanting to flee.

Now Qi Zhi understood why Ling Qiansu had said tampering was so difficult — the sensation was far too distinct. Anyone jolted like this in a dream, no matter how deep their sleep, would surely wake!

Thankfully it lasted only a few seconds. Ling Qiansu soon lowered her hands and told her, “It’s done.”

            

Qi Zhi slowly opened her eyes to find Ling Qiansu gazing at her with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile.

Ling Qiansu: “Perfectly natural.” With that, she stepped out from behind the screen and returned to the table.

Qi Zhi had no idea what exactly Ling Qiansu had seen, only that it was mortifying. Back at Mu Qingshi’s side, she was too ashamed to lift her head for a good long while.

            

Ling Qiansu and Mu Qingshi talked on and on beside her, but Qi Zhi didn’t take in a single word — her head was full of the ridiculous things from her dream.

Then Ling Qiansu rose to her feet, saying it was getting late — if she didn’t return soon, the lingering illusion she’d left in her room would dissolve.

With that, she walked to the door and cloaked her form with a talisman.

            

The tightly shut door swung open, then closed again. Qi Zhi blinked. “She’s gone?”

Mu Qingshi: “Mm.”

Qi Zhi: “And now…”

            

Mu Qingshi: “Ring the bell. It’s time to renew the dream.”

Qi Zhi: “Renew it right after waking? Won’t that look too deliberate?”

“Not at all — waiting until evening would be the deliberate part!” Ah Yun laughed. “Someone aching to feel that sweetness again, given the choice, could never survive a whole daylight without it.”

            

Qi Zhi: “…” It made terrifying sense.

Ah Yun: “Come on, go ring the bell. I’d better find somewhere to hide too!”

Flapping her wings, she flew out the window.

            

Qi Zhi drew a long, deep breath, walked to the window Ah Yun had vanished through, and gently rang the bronze bell.

Before long, two servants arrived.

Following Mu Qingshi’s coaching, she stammered out her line. “Um… the wine from last night… c-could I have some more?”

            

Smiles rose on both servants’ faces, and one of them said, “The Villa Master so loves a good story. If the young lady is willing to share last night’s dream — why, the wine will flow as freely as she could ever wish to drink!”

Qi Zhi pressed her lips together and nodded, receiving only the words, “One moment, Miss!”

The two servants turned and departed.

            

Qi Zhi stood at the courtyard gate watching for a good while, until her legs tired of standing, then went back inside, sat down, and started on the tea snacks on the table.

Mu Qingshi kept her quiet vigil at her side, now and then pouring her a cup of tea.

Time seemed to stretch on and on, until a big-tailed rabbit rode a passing breeze down onto the windowsill and peered once into the room.

            

Qi Zhi snapped back to herself and touched Mu Qingshi’s arm. “Shijie, the rabbit’s here!”

Mu Qingshi said nothing, only watched the rabbit in silence.

Xixue leaned down, hopped into the room, bounced up onto a stool, and tilted her head up. “You all wish to renew your dreams?”

            

“Me!” Qi Zhi pointed at herself at once. “I’m the one renewing it!”

The little rabbit lifted her head, seeming to study her carefully from top to toe, then suddenly lowered her voice. “However fine a dream may be, it is still illusion. You walk the Dao yourself — do you not understand even this?”

Qi Zhi’s eyes flew to Mu Qingshi. The rabbit had genuinely stumped her.

            

Ling Qiansu never mentioned there’d be a quiz to renew a dream!

Mu Qingshi, unhurried, said evenly, “My shimei enjoys it. What harm in one more dream? I remain awake — she will not truly be lost in it.”

Xixue was silent a long moment, then said, “Then close your eyes, Miss.”

            

Qi Zhi closed her eyes. A soft breeze curled around her, as if it swept something away from her — gently, though. Ever so gently.

When the spiritual light dispersed, Qi Zhi opened her eyes. Two jade cups now sat upon the table — the Shuiyue Jinghua from last night’s banquet.

Qi Zhi blinked in mild surprise. The rabbit, forepaws clasped over her round, stuffed little belly, hopped down to the floor, sprang back up to the windowsill, spread her tail, and prepared to fly off.

            

Qi Zhi: “Little rabbit!”

Xixue couldn’t help glancing back.

Qi Zhi couldn’t help asking, “Were you… trying to warn me just now?”

            

Xixue: “…Of course not.”

With that, she leaped out the window and flew into the distance.

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The author has something to say:

            

Qi Zhi: The bunny doesn’t seem so bad after all.

That’s right, little angels — I’ve commissioned lots and lots of artwork for this story! If you’re interested, you can search 【Xiao Liao, I’m Such a Kind Wolf⁴】 on Weibo, and by searching the story title you can see all sorts of pictures unlocking as the plot progresses.

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