My Shijie Seems Intent on Destroying the World – Chapter 46
by Little PandaQuestioning the Heart
If They’re Not on the Same Boat, They’re Just Pitiful…
Even with no one to disturb it, a dream you can’t bear to leave must still, in the end, give way to waking.
When Xixue woke, she was in the Sui City inn.
She hugged the little wooden puppet to her chest, hopped down off the bed, carefully pried the door open a crack, and poked her fluffy little head out for a look around.
Down by the ground-floor window, Qi Zhi and Ah Yun were eating something.
Mu Qingshi sat to one side, gazing quietly out at the street, at who knew what.
Xixue hesitated a moment, instinctively shrinking back into the room — but Ah Yun spotted her with a single glance.
Ah Yun beckoned her over, and Qi Zhi’s gaze swung around too.
The little rabbit couldn’t suppress a shiver, then obediently scampered downstairs. Under the waiter’s curious stare, she used a stool to hop up onto the tabletop, puppet in her arms, ears drooping, crouched there the very picture of good behavior.
Qi Zhi held out a glossy green morsel. “Little rabbit, would you like to eat this?”
Xixue hesitated, then reached out a paw to take it. “…A qingtuan1?”
Ah Yun: “It’s Qingming today.”
Xixue stared at the qingtuan in her paws for a while, then abruptly turned her head toward the window.
The people of Sui City were busy with spring outings and planting willows, sweeping tombs and honoring their ancestors.
Children laughed and shrieked as they flew paper kites, and once a kite soared high enough, the grown-ups would snip the long string and let the wind carry it off.
This was a Yun Province custom — release everything bad into the sky, let the wind bear it to the far corners of the earth, and all that stays behind is joy and good fortune.
Xixue had lived long in Yun Province, and who knew how many other corners of the Mortal Realm she’d roamed — none of this was unfamiliar to her.
It was only that after so long inside Mingyue Villa, she’d nearly forgotten the Mortal Realm’s festivals altogether.
She lowered her head and took a bite of the qingtuan in her paws — a faintly astringent bitterness, soft and chewy, wrapping around a dense sweetness.
In a memory very far away, Yinrong had made dumplings like these too. Sitting at the table, she had settled the little rabbit on her lap, tearing the dumpling open bit by bit to feed her.
For an instant, silence. The little rabbit’s vision misted over without her meaning it to.
“Yaa—” Ah Yun ruffled the rabbit’s head, teasing aloud, “Is it really that awful? The little rabbit’s crying just from eating it!”
Qi Zhi froze, then instinctively poked Ah Yun’s elbow.
Ah Yun: “She IS crying!”
Xixue sniffled, raised a paw, wiped her tears, gave her head a shake, and said in a tiny voice, “It’s not bad…”
With that, she stuffed an entire qingtuan into her mouth, her fluffy little face instantly puffing out round.
Qi Zhi hurriedly poured her a cup of tea. “Careful — you’ll choke!”
Her worry wasn’t excessive. The qingtuan wasn’t small, and the rabbit wasn’t big. Stuffed into her mouth, it was sticky and glutinous; she chewed forever and simply could not get it down. Before long, the little rabbit’s eyes had widened a full circle from the choking.
In the end Ah Yun couldn’t stand watching anymore — she bopped her on the forehead and used spiritual power to force that mouthful down her throat.
The instant the qingtuan went down, the little rabbit seized the teacup and gulped deeply.
Finally she let out a burp, sat slumped on the tabletop with reddened, wet eyes and a somewhat glazed look, and let Qi Zhi knead her head to her heart’s content.
Mu Qingshi took it all in, and only curved her brows with a soft laugh.
After a long quiet spell, Xixue came back to herself and looked up. “Where’s Ling Qiansu?”
“Wrecked! She’s resting!” Ah Yun pointed upstairs. “You lot spent two hundred-odd years racking up sins — cleaning up this one mess for you wasn’t easy either. Her vitality took a real beating; she’ll need at least ten days to half a month to recover.”
The little rabbit opened her mouth, then didn’t dare make a sound.
Qi Zhi pressed her lips together and shot Mu Qingshi a look.
As if to say — Shijie, rein Ah Yun in, would you!
Mu Qingshi sipped her tea, and as she set the cup down, she gave Ah Yun one long, dark look.
Ah Yun cleared her throat, picked up a qingtuan from the plate, and started eating as though nothing whatsoever had happened.
Qi Zhi rubbed Xixue’s head and gently recounted the events of the past two days.
Mingyue Villa was gone. Those who had been immersed in dreams had all gone home, and upon learning the truth, some felt relief, some desolation.
Those who’d only recently arrived had family waiting and hoping for them, their bodies still sound — however lost they felt, they could still carry on with their lives.
But those who’d spent who knew how many years in Mingyue Villa had hardly anyone left hoping for them, and their bodies were mostly ruined. Who knew how they were supposed to live out their days.
Two of them killed themselves outright last night.
It seemed they couldn’t accept the gap between dream and waking life.
On this, Ah Yun’s commentary: “Serves them right. Their own choice.”
Xixue hung her head and said nothing. She just shuffled to the window’s edge and looked up for a while at the kites dancing across the sky.
A tether string was snipped. A child hopped and shouted, pointing at the kite cut loose, and with family around her, watched it ride the wind farther and farther away.
Mu Qingshi: “The string binding you was cut two hundred years ago.”
Xixue blinked, and drew one long, deep breath.
Mu Qingshi: “Ear-rabbits are meant to soar on the wind — wherever you wish to go, you may go.”
Yes, Xixue thought. Her master had set her free long ago.
“Little rabbit, where will you go from here?” Qi Zhi asked softly. “Will you return to Mount Han?”
Xixue thought for a long while, then shook her head.
She said she didn’t want to go back to Mount Han anymore.
The Mount Han in the dream had been beautiful — she knew it wasn’t real. Rather than return to guard a place whose master would never come back, better to go see more of the world.
Her only regret was that her cultivation was meager. She couldn’t help those in need the way her master once had.
Ah Yun: “That’s not even the half of it. A demon beast with cultivation as low as yours — if you run into one of those cultivators who kills any demon on sight, no questions asked — tch, I’d say you’d struggle just to keep yourself alive!”
Xixue: “…”
Ah Yun: “Let me point you somewhere.”
Xixue’s bewildered eyes went wide, tear-light flickering and fading in them.
“The Spirit Venerable of Muxue Valley has always been fiercely protective of her own. Go cultivate there, and no one will dare touch you lightly,” Ah Yun said. “Your lifespan is long. Once you’ve truly grown capable, it won’t be too late to go wherever you please.”
The little rabbit’s mouth fell slightly open; she tilted her head and blinked.
“Muxue Valley… any demon can just walk in?”
“Not just any.” Ah Yun raised a hand; spiritual light flashed at her fingertips, and she held up a grey feather, waving it twice before Xixue’s eyes. “With this, you’ll get in just fine!”
The little rabbit reached out a paw and took the grey feather, half doubting, half lost in thought.
After a moment of silence, she said quietly, “Thank you.”
Then she hugged the puppet tight, leaped out the window, spread her big fluffy tail, and flew off on the wind without a single backward glance.
Qi Zhi blinked. “Just like that, she’s gone?”
Mu Qingshi: “Mm.”
Ah Yun: “Faster than a dog, that one.”
Qi Zhi: “…”
Down on the street, some gazed after her, some cried out in wonder, and some took it in stride.
A kite-flying child forgot all about her string, tugging her mother’s sleeve and pointing at the snow-white streak at the edge of the sky.
“The little rabbit! The token-delivering rabbit!”
“The little rabbit isn’t delivering tokens this time.” Her mother bent down, ruffled her daughter’s hair, and soothed her gently. “The immortals said there will never be another Mingyue Banquet in this world.”
That’s right. Never again would there be a Mingyue Banquet.
Qi Zhi leaned at the window, watching the white shadow fly farther and farther until it vanished, and couldn’t help remembering the day they’d first arrived here.
She’d genuinely believed she was headed for nothing more than a temple fair on Shangyuan night.
Who could have guessed that a single jade token would conceal such a hasty parting of ways.
Mu Qingshi watched the wind tousle the hair at Qi Zhi’s temples, and couldn’t resist reaching over to smooth it back behind her ear. “What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.
Qi Zhi pressed her lips together, obediently sat back down at the table, and sighed. “I thought the little rabbit would come with us to Mount Han.”
Ah Yun: “Can’t blame her. Old places stir up old wounds!”
Qi Zhi nodded, propped her chin in her hand, and looked at Ah Yun. After two blank seconds, a belated curiosity suddenly flickered to life in her eyes.
Ah Yun: “What’s with that look?”
Qi Zhi: “Ah Yun, you know the Spirit Venerable too?”
Ah Yun: “Is that so surprising?”
Qi Zhi hastily shook her head and pointed straight up at the sky. “At this point you could tell me you know the Heavenly Emperor, and I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Ah Yun giggled at that. “That one I really don’t know!”
As she spoke, she swept a glance upstairs out of the corner of her eye, then lifted a hand with a curving smile and waved at someone above.
Qi Zhi looked up to see Ling Qiansu, who had left her room at some point, coming down the stairs.
Her lips were pale, as if dusted with a thin ash-grey, and her steps were far less steady than usual.
She came downstairs and walked straight toward the three of them.
Just those few steps, and she couldn’t hold back several rough breaths as she sat down.
Ah Yun: “Maybe… you should go back up and rest?”
“It’s nothing. I heard some movement and came down to look.” Ling Qiansu glanced out the window. “Xixue has already gone?”
“Mm.” Qi Zhi nodded.
Ling Qiansu was silent a moment, then frowned. “…And here I’d hoped to ask her about the demon calamity in Yun Province all those years ago.”
Mu Qingshi: “Back then, even Beilu never got the chance to investigate further.”
Ling Qiansu’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “The memories are only fragments… perhaps some of what he and Xixue knew… never reached us…”
She looked up. “Did she return to Mount Han?”
Qi Zhi: “No, she went to—”
“Where she went, we don’t know.” Ah Yun cut Qi Zhi off, saying it blandly. “She only said Mount Han was a place of grief, and she didn’t want to go back.”
Qi Zhi froze for a beat, nodded silently, and found her lips pressing into a thin line without her meaning to.
Ling Qiansu: “…”
Ah Yun: “Honestly, aren’t you tired? Your body’s gone this weak, and your head’s still full of nothing but that business?”
Ling Qiansu opened her mouth, and only after a long moment did she manage: “I’m sorry—”
Mu Qingshi: “Miss Ling, why apologize?”
Ling Qiansu lowered her eyes, guilt written plainly across her face. “Miss Mu, Miss Qi… you both trained under Tiandao Sect… I overstepped…”
“M-Miss Ling.” Qi Zhi waved her hands. “Ah Yun — she didn’t mean it like that.”
“If Miss Ling truly thinks that, what does she take me and my shimei for?” Mu Qingshi’s brows drew together. “There is something strange about what happened back then. Even if you had never raised it, my shimei and I would get to the bottom of it. We would never turn a blind eye simply because Tiandao Sect is involved!”
“Oh come on, I wasn’t trying to stop you from investigating!” Ah Yun hurried to explain too. “I just meant — you’re panting this hard just talking, and it’s exhausting listening to you. I wanted you to rest first!”
Ling Qiansu was stunned for a good while, not daring to speak.
That one moment of misunderstanding left her mortified with shame, utterly at a loss for how to face the three people in front of her.
After a long silence, Mu Qingshi spoke again. “Perhaps we should make a trip to Mount Han.”
Ling Qiansu: “…Huh?”
Mu Qingshi: “She refused to let Beilu dig deeper. She must know something.”
Qi Zhi tilted her head and blinked, gazing at Mu Qingshi with the keenest interest.
There she goes again — putting on a show anytime, anywhere!
“But… the Master of Mount Han isn’t someone you can simply meet…” Ling Qiansu said, her brow tightly knit. “I’ve heard that beyond Mount Han lies a wondrous formation… even the Three Venerables would need far more than a moment’s work to break through it…”
Mu Qingshi: “Miss Ling need not worry. Once we reach the formation, so long as we can hold out a little longer, I have my own way of drawing the Mountain Lord out.”
Ling Qiansu: “Hold out a little longer…”
Ah Yun: “Which is exactly why you need to hurry up and get your body better!”
At that, Ling Qiansu clenched both fists, her eyes shining, and nodded with fierce earnestness. “If Miss Mu trusts in me, Qiansu will give everything she has!”
Qi Zhi couldn’t help pressing her lips together.
Now she understood perfectly—
Mount Han was a must. But so was the act of frailty.
Whether the Master of Mount Han actually knew anything about the past didn’t matter. What mattered was hoodwinking Ling Qiansu into coming along.
At the end of the day, they still needed the muscle!
Ah, if you’re not on the same boat, you’re just pitiful…
Sold off — and still helping them count the money.
The author has something to say:
Qi Zhi: My heart aches for her — when is someone going to hand out a boat ticket?
Ah Yun: Do you even remember this is a pirate ship?
One more thing: “Yinsha” means “snow.”
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