My Shijie Seems Intent on Destroying the World – Chapter 4
by Little PandaWhen the Spirit Flowers Bloom
“Don’t Touch Her Things Unless You Have To.”
Qi Zhi had a dream.
In the dream, Mount Qiongju was a sea of silver-white. She cradled two jars of new wine, meaning to find Mu-shijie and speak of all she had carried in her heart these past few hundred years.
But the road to Suihan Hall stretched so far—farther than every journey she could remember.
Ah Yun flew ahead. She chased through the night, chased until dawn broke.
A red sun rose. Light spilled down, and heaven and earth seemed tinted with a thin film of rose.
Her steps faltered, deep then shallow, as if even draining every last ounce of strength would never be enough to arrive.
For one fleeting instant, she thought: Forget it.
Nothing had to be obtained. It was so tiring, so far. Better to go home and sleep.
She woke to the soft chiming of the wind chimes outside her window.
The cramped room was lined with jars of every size. Osmanthus steeped in syrup seeped a faint, clean sweetness through the air.
Qi Zhi rolled over, pulled the blanket over her head, closed her eyes to go back to sleep—but sleep was already gone.
The covers were stuffy and warm. She lay there thinking for a while, then couldn’t help pouting.
“Qi Zhi, is this all the resolve you have…”
If she couldn’t even finish a single road, how was she supposed to be with Mu-shijie?
With that thought, she exhaled a long breath, sprang upright in bed, dressed, and stepped into the courtyard.
The old tree in the yard had nearly been stripped bare by the wind. Only a string of wind chimes remained, clack-clack clatter-clatter, looking rather forlorn.
Qi Zhi stood in the cool breeze, hugged her arms, let out an enormous yawn, wiped away the tears that came with it, and was about to fetch water to wash up—only to freeze when she lifted the lid. The water vat was empty again.
She pressed her lips together, silently replaced the lid, picked up two wooden buckets, and headed toward the mountain stream.
The stream wasn’t exactly far, but it wasn’t close either. It took three round trips to fill the vat, and all that running back and forth was no small effort.
On her second return, lugging two brimming buckets, a familiar figure was pacing in her courtyard.
“Ninth Senior Sister?”
Ninth Senior Sister turned, a smile spreading across her face. “Shimei1, where have you been so early in the morning!”
Qi Zhi opened her mouth, then glanced down at the buckets in her hands.
“Fetching water!” Ninth Senior Sister realized. A flick of spiritual energy from her fingertips, and both buckets emptied into the vat.
The next moment, the wooden buckets were neatly set beside it.
Qi Zhi blinked, then hurriedly thanked her.
“We’re all Master’s disciples—no need for that.” Ninth Senior Sister smiled and stepped closer, launching straight into pleasantries. “I haven’t seen you in ages, Shimei. How have you been lately?”
“Thank you for asking, shijie.” Qi Zhi hurried back to the vat to pick up the buckets again.
“Another trip still?” Ninth Senior Sister reached for one of the buckets, her brows curving with a smile. “Let me help.”
Qi Zhi didn’t know how to refuse and simply walked ahead with her head down.
Ninth Senior Sister had always been closest to Fourth Senior Brother. Though she’d never said anything cruel to her face, she hadn’t so much as looked at her properly in five hundred years. Who knew why her attitude had suddenly changed today—it felt like nothing good.
Still, hauling water was tiring. Having help wasn’t a bad thing.
Except along the way, Ninth Senior Sister chattered ceaselessly. Qi Zhi heard every word and had no idea how to respond.
“Your room smells so lovely, and you smell sweet too! Is this year’s osmanthus jam almost ready?”
“It’s been so long since I saw you—you seem to have grown taller! I remember you were always sallow and thin, but now that you’ve been spending time with Second Senior Sister, you’re fair and clean, growing into quite the beauty.”
“Fourth Senior Brother said you’ve gotten quick-tongued, nothing like the dull girl you used to be, but I see you still don’t say much…”
“…” shijie certainly was talkative.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“I am!” Qi Zhi answered quickly.
“Still groggy from just waking up?” Ninth Senior Sister said, poking Qi Zhi’s cheek with a finger.
Qi Zhi dodged sideways on instinct. Water sloshed from the bucket, splashing both their shoes.
Ninth Senior Sister’s expression darkened for a split second before she stretched the smile back across her face, carrying on as though nothing had happened. “It’s fine. Don’t be nervous. The real reason I came to find you today is about Master.”
“Master?” Qi Zhi looked up, curious.
“Yep.”
“Master… remembers me?”
“When has Master ever forgotten you?” Ninth Senior Sister said, patting Qi Zhi’s head. “Let’s go sit down. This water is heavy!”
Qi Zhi nodded, still dazed.
The courtyard vat was finally full. Qi Zhi led Ninth Senior Sister inside.
The room was cool and dim, jars everywhere. Aside from the bed, the only place to sit was the dining table.
Ninth Senior Sister walked to the table, pulled out a handkerchief with a somewhat forced expression, and wiped the stool before sitting across from Qi Zhi. She rested her chin in her hands, brows curved, and asked, “Eleventh Junior Sister, can you sense your spiritual root?”
“It’s broken.”
“I know that. What I’m asking is—can you feel whether it’s been any different lately compared to before?”
Qi Zhi paused, closed her eyes, and focused. For the first time in a long while, she entered her Sea of Divine Sense2.
This was a void of pure white. Only the small patch of ground beneath her feet grew some wild grass, keeping the place from being entirely empty.
Among the grass stood one small, pale-green blade—slightly taller than the rest, but bent over, its leaves limp and trailing on the ground. That was her spiritual root.
A spiritual root grew alongside one’s cultivation. She’d heard of extraordinary cultivators whose roots had grown into towering trees, their Seas of Divine Sense blooming into whole landscapes shaped by their hearts’ state of mind.
But hers never could. Damaged from birth, it grew stunted and ragged, as if ravaged by some external force—plainly a thing that would never grow larger.
“I’ve all grown up, and you’re still this tiny.”
Qi Zhi murmured teasingly, crouching down and lightly brushing the little grass with her finger.
The next moment, it slowly stood upright. Its trailing leaves unfurled, revealing a flower bud of pure white—one that looked as though it might bloom at any moment.
Qi Zhi stared in astonishment, leaning closer for several seconds to confirm she wasn’t seeing things.
“Well?” Ninth Senior Sister’s voice drifted in from outside.
Qi Zhi hurried out of the Sea of Divine Sense, her eyes full of disbelief as she looked at Ninth Senior Sister.
Ninth Senior Sister gazed back with a smile, tilting her head. “Is there a little flower about to bloom?”
Qi Zhi nodded, dazed. “But my spiritual root shouldn’t be able to grow.”
Ninth Senior Sister leaned forward and beckoned Qi Zhi to come closer.
Qi Zhi scooted her stool nearer, ears perked with curiosity.
“Actually, when Master took you in five hundred years ago, he left a strand of spiritual energy inside your spiritual root. That energy has been nurturing your soul and slowly repairing your root year after year.” Ninth Senior Sister paused, the corner of her mouth quirking slightly. “Master also said that on the day you come of age, when the spirit flower blooms, that strand of energy will fuse with your root, mend what’s broken, and you’ll be able to cultivate normally!”
“Really?”
“But don’t tell anyone—it’s a secret. Master was worried that if you knew, these five hundred years would be too hard to endure. I only just found out myself.”
Qi Zhi opened her mouth, dumbfounded into silence.
Seeing her blank-faced, Ninth Senior Sister went on: “I’ll admit, I used to look down on you, and I did say some unkind things about you alongside Fourth Senior Brother. But that’s all in the past. I haven’t done anything to wrong you in years!”
“…”
“From now on, you’ll be different from before. To think Master cares for you so much…” Ninth Senior Sister said, cupping her chin and batting her eyes at Qi Zhi. She asked in a wheedling tone, “If I make peace with you now, is it too late?”
“Huh?” Qi Zhi was suddenly at a loss.
Ninth Senior Sister didn’t give her time to think. She took Qi Zhi’s left hand and slipped onto her wrist a delicate, exquisitely crafted silver leaf bracelet.
Qi Zhi had never worn jewelry in her life. She flinched, yanking her hand back to take it off.
Ninth Senior Sister frowned. “Is Shimei unwilling to forgive me?”
Qi Zhi’s fingers froze. “No, no, it’s just—this, I…”
“If you’re willing to forgive me, then it’s a gift. If you take it off, I can only assume you intend to keep holding a grudge.”
“…” Qi Zhi pressed her lips together and didn’t dare remove it.
“That’s more like it.” Ninth Senior Sister looked at the bracelet on her wrist, her mood apparently soaring, her voice gone several shades sweeter. “Eleventh Junior Sister’s wrist is so slim and fair—it looks lovely on her.”
“Thank you, Ninth Senior Sister.” Qi Zhi lowered her head and fell quiet.
As the silence dragged on and the atmosphere turned awkward, she hastened to pour Ninth Senior Sister a cup of water.
Ninth Senior Sister waved it off, saying she wasn’t fond of water drawn from the stream. She rose, bid Qi Zhi farewell, and left the small courtyard with light steps.
Qi Zhi sat alone, head tilted, for a long while before collecting herself.
She entered the Sea of Divine Sense once more. The pure white bud was indeed on the verge of opening—poised but not yet bloomed.
Qi Zhi hurriedly washed up. She didn’t even stop to make breakfast before bounding joyfully all the way to Suihan Hall.
Inside Suihan Hall, the plum blossoms had not yet opened.
A few sparse yellow leaves clung to the branches. When the wind passed, they rustled down.
Beneath the tree, at the stone table, Mu Qingshi sat alone, sipping bitter tea.
Between her fingertips she held a tattered, withered leaf, preserved by a minor spell. On its surface, only six characters were written:
—Suihan Hall, Second Senior Sister.
The day Ah Yun had carried it back, the bird had looked rather pleased with itself.
Who knew what there was to be pleased about—just a fallen leaf.
Now Ah Yun was gone. Everything here was silent, fitting the name Suihan—cold through and through.
Mu Qingshi was thinking thus when a voice came from afar, breaking the stillness.
She stirred and looked toward the sound. It was Qi Zhi, calling “Shijie” as she bounded through Suihan Hall, searching everywhere.
The withered leaf vanished from her fingertips. Mu Qingshi rose, and Qi Zhi spotted her at once, waving a small arm and sprinting toward her.
The wind was strong at the summit. Qi Zhi had run in such a rush that by the time she stopped, she stood panting, windswept and mussed like a startled little rabbit.
Mu Qingshi couldn’t help but smile. She reached out and smoothed the hair from Qi Zhi’s forehead. “What’s got you so happy, running here in such a hurry?”
Qi Zhi had run the whole way. Right now she couldn’t spare breath for words, still gulping air.
Mu Qingshi turned and poured a cup of hot tea, offering it to her.
Qi Zhi took it, cradling it to warm her hands first. Once her breathing had mostly evened out, she tipped her head and took a couple sips.
The silver leaves on her wrist slipped downward. Mu Qingshi’s gaze darkened. She tightened her fingers, sat back down at the table, and looked up at the oblivious Qi Zhi with a curve of her lips.
Qi Zhi finished her tea and bounded around the stone table, recounting the entire morning’s encounter with Ninth Senior Sister, her face alight.
At the end, she looked at Mu Qingshi, her eyes brimming with hope. “Mu-shijie, do you think… Ninth Senior Sister wasn’t lying to me? My spiritual root really has Master’s spiritual energy?”
Mu Qingshi heard this and replied with a light laugh, “I haven’t looked. How could I say for certain?”
“Then help me look, shijie!” Qi Zhi said, bracing her hands on the table and leaning forward until her forehead was right in front of Mu Qingshi. She closed her eyes obediently.
Mu Qingshi went still for a moment. After a brief pause, she quieted her mind, held her breath, leaned forward, and touched her forehead to Qi Zhi’s.
Qi Zhi’s Sea of Divine Sense lay entirely unguarded. In the faint glow of spiritual light, Mu Qingshi saw the grass that had not yet grown tall in that void, and the one pure white bud—singular and unique.
The Daoist Venerable’s spiritual energy, gossamer-thin, wreathed around it. But it was invisible to the naked eye—Qi Zhi surely couldn’t see it.
After a brief stillness, she withdrew from Qi Zhi’s Sea of Divine Sense.
Qi Zhi opened her eyes and asked urgently, “Is it there?”
Mu Qingshi said, “Mm.”
Qi Zhi leapt and spun in several more circles, giddy with joy. It took a while before she calmed down enough to whisper, full of emotion, “I thought Master didn’t care about me at all. I thought taking me as a disciple was just a mistake, something he never wanted to bring up.”
“To think Master quietly did all this for me…”
“If Ninth Senior Sister hadn’t told me, I might not have known how it healed even after my root was fixed.”
Qi Zhi talked on, but hearing no response from Mu Qingshi, she looked up and blinked at her in confusion. “Mu-shijie? Are… are you listening?”
Mu Qingshi nodded. Her gaze swept, seemingly by chance, over Qi Zhi’s wrist. “Who gave you that bracelet?”
“Ninth Senior Sister.”
“It doesn’t suit you.”
Qi Zhi paused, then quickly took the bracelet off.
Mu Qingshi took it from her fingertips and said evenly, “Qingyao has been willful and mischievous since she was young. Don’t touch her things unless you have to.”
“Oh!” Qi Zhi answered, then couldn’t resist explaining. “I didn’t want to take it, but she insisted, and said if I didn’t accept it, I was deliberately going against her…”
“Mm.” Mu Qingshi took a sip of tea. “I’ll speak to her myself.”
After that, nothing more was said.
A silence fell. Qi Zhi rubbed her wrist, not quite understanding the situation.
After a few seconds, Mu Qingshi set down her teacup.
She said quietly, “Don’t let anyone else into your Sea of Divine Sense from now on.”
The author has something to say:
Qi Zhi: Is shijie angry?
Mu Qingshi: It’s hard to hold back.
—Who enters someone else’s Sea of Divine Sense for no reason if not for spiritual communion? Nobody taught the child anything—she doesn’t understand a thing. shijie is worried sick.
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