The black cat looked at her, then looked at her sword.
It extended a fluffy little paw and gave the scabbard a light, effortless tap. With a crisp click, the scabbard and hilt separated instantly, sliding apart as smooth as silk.
Qu Qi: “?”
Why can a cat pull it open with one tap while I can’t? Is this world specifically targeting me?!
Black Cat: “Meow.”
A sword cultivator only has one natal sword in their entire life. Nourished by their essence and blood, the sword is linked to the master’s primordial spirit; naturally, it should respond to the master’s every beck and call. As the master’s realm increases, the sword gains strength and becomes sharper. Every sword cultivator’s lifelong ideal is to reach the state of “Human and Sword as One.”
But this girl’s cultivation was too low. The lower one’s cultivation, the weaker the resonance with their natal sword, and the harder it is to control.
Qu Qi looked at it with a complicated expression: “Mimi, you’re amazing.” So, it wasn’t a problem with the sword—it really was a problem with her.
She felt the heavy weight of being “slapped in the face” and a wave of social death. Her head drooped in defeat; her usually bright and vivid features grew dim. Her face was a portrait of deep-seated bitterness, looking utterly pitiful.
The black cat paused, glancing sideways at the long sword. Under its gaze, the blade trembled almost imperceptibly.
Unable to withstand the death stare—which felt like the weight of Mount Tai—the sword let out a buzz and flew to Qu Qi’s side, landing obediently in her palm.
Qu Qi was stunned: “Eh?”
The hilt rubbed gently against her palm, just like a puppy resting its chin on its master’s hand, wagging its “tail” back and forth in a display of blatant flattery.
“Sucking up to me now won’t work,” Qu Qi pushed it away. “My heart is broken. My own sword wouldn’t listen to me; Mama is truly hurt.”
The sword felt its head grow big. The scabbard flew over with a whoosh, sheathing the blade once more. The sword hovered in front of her, circling with a hint of cautious appeasement, gesturing for her to try drawing it again.
Qu Qi feigned reluctance: “Fine, since you’re so insistent, I’ll force myself to agree.”
This time, she drew the long sword from its sheath in one fluid motion. The snow-bright blade was incomparably sharp, its light flashing like lightning. The sword energy that burst forth soaked into the damp earth, carving out two long, narrow gashes.
Qu Qi: “!” What a sharp sword!
“Mimi, look! I drew it—”
She looked up with joy, only to find that the black cat had long since disappeared.
Qu Qi felt a pang of loss, her lips curling downward: “…Gone just like that? It didn’t even see me draw the sword.”
The “poop-scooper” was still here, so how could it just run off? Truly, zero “Cat Ethics.”
Even though the black cat had never treated her as its master, Qu Qi insisted on unilaterally believing that the cat was already under her thumb. Otherwise, how could she explain why it came to sleep with her every night? It proved that Mimi had her in its heart!
Qu Qi tried a few more times, shoving the sword back and pulling it out repeating the process until it was as smooth as a Dove chocolate commercial. She was thoroughly satisfied. And since she was satisfied, the long sword secretly breathed a sigh of relief; its little life was saved.
Qu Qi extended two fingers and lightly flicked the blade, producing a clear clang. “Suddenly so obedient… were you just stuck earlier? Yeah, you must have been stuck.”
Long Sword: Sure, sure, whatever you say.
It lay in her palm as quiet as a mouse, not daring to talk back.
Qu Qi had played enough and returned the sword to her storage ring. She stood up and scanned the graveyard; the rain seemed to be getting heavier.
The lead-gray sky looked as if a hideous gash had been torn into it, rain pouring down like buckets of paint onto the withered grass and the silent, nameless headstones. The earth and bamboo forest were dyed a dark charcoal, and the water soaked into Qu Qi’s soles.
The souls in the mass grave were restless, hovering around the only living being, yet wary of the “mark” left on her by that person. They huddled together, whispering in low murmurs: “Scent, so fragrant..”
“She… still got there first.”
Qu Qi couldn’t understand the language of the dead. Thinking they just wanted to snuggle, she casually patted a spirit that drifted close. If she had understood them, she would have been on a midnight train out of town.
Seeing the sky darken, Qu Qi decided it was time to “clock out.” She had been a security guard in the mass grave for over ten days and had never seen a spirit beast dare to intrude. Most animals couldn’t wait to stay as far away as possible. She wondered what the old man Jing Shu was thinking, imagining a spirit beast would charge this place. These ghostly “old brothers” weren’t pushovers; in terms of strength, they were much stronger than her.
Well… the black cat was an exception among spirit beasts. That little black fluff-ball particularly loved staying in the bamboo shadows, staring expressionlessly at the nameless headstone. It never approached; it just watched.
As the daylight vanished below the horizon, Qu Qi gave up on the problem of how to gain experience points, deciding to leave it for “Tomorrow Qu Qi” to handle. Since there was no deadline, she could procrastinate as much as she wanted.
Filled with the joy and liberation of a corporate slave ending their shift, she waved happily to the spirits: “Colleagues, I’m punching out! See you tomorrow!”
Some ghosts waved back, while others watched her leave with longing eyes, swallowing hard. They were practically dying of hunger.
The Disappearing “Emperor”
That night, Qu Qi bathed, changed, and finished dinner, sitting on the bed smelling fresh and fragrant as she awaited the black cat’s arrival.
However, she waited until late into the night, and the black cat did not come. For the next several days, she saw no sign of it.
Qu Qi was devastated. Her mood hit rock bottom; she lay on the bed motionless, limbs spread wide. She felt like a concubine waiting for the Emperor to flip her name-tag—except she was the abandoned one in the “Cold Palace” because the Emperor had gone off to fool around with some other vixen.
Qu Qi sat up abruptly and let out a cold, vicious laugh: Fine. You spent every day despising me, and now you’ve just run away from home. All the love and time of these past years were clearly wasted on the wrong person!
How could it vanish without a word to its owner? So inconsiderate! Deduct another ten points from its Cat Ethics!
She had wanted to show the black cat the “graceful and handsome” sword-drawing moves she had designed, but now that the opportunity was lost, she was deeply disappointed.
When she woke up the next morning and looked in the mirror while washing up, she saw a “beautiful-as-a-flower” giant panda staring back at her with resentment. She angrily rubbed her massive dark circles.
Dammit, insomnia makes one age, and raising a cat makes one anxious!
In the end, she didn’t wait for the cat, but she did receive an unexpected guest.
“Little Senior Sister!”
Qu Qi quickly opened the door to welcome him, surprised: “Junior Brother Ji? Why are you here?”
Ji Ling looked around warily before entering, as if avoiding something. He walked quickly into the room and sat on a chair.
“Sigh… it’s a long story. I couldn’t get the Elder’s permission to come up the mountain; it took a lot of effort to sneak up here, so I can’t stay long. If I’m caught looking for you, it’ll be bad.”
Qu Qi poured him a cup of tea. “Don’t worry, they won’t find out in such a short time.”
Ji Ling held the cup with both hands and gulped the tea down. After finishing it in one go, he looked up and asked worriedly, “Sister, why didn’t you sleep well? Is the bed too hard, or is the food not to your taste?”
Truly the familiar nagging. Having not spoken to a human for so long, Qu Qi actually felt a bit nostalgic for this chatter. She smiled and replied, “I’m fine, everything is quite good.”
Ji Ling observed her expression carefully and shook his head: “Sister, you don’t have to force a smile. I know you must feel terrible living in a place like this.”
How could someone like his sister, who always wanted the best clothes and food, be willing to live in such a primitive room?
Qu Qi said from the bottom of her heart: “No, it’s actually quite nice here.” (Except for a certain troublesome cat.)
Ji Ling: “Really? Swear it.”
Qu Qi: “Really. If I’m lying, I’ll French kiss Zhang Han.”
Ji Ling was confused: “Who is this Zhang Han?”
Qu Qi: “A man who can make the entire universe feel nauseous no matter what he does.”
Ji Ling was shocked: “There is such a powerful person in this world? How terrifying.”
Qu Qi: “Stop right there, let’s not talk about that. Did you come up the mountain for a reason?”
Ji Ling remembered his mission and turned solemn: “Yes. I came to warn you, Sister. The Elder said you must not walk into the depths of the back mountain graveyard.”
Qu Qi was surprised. Not walk into the depths? Does that mean she shouldn’t go inside the cemetery?
“It seems a bit too late for that,” Qu Qi scratched her head awkwardly. “I’ve already been in there.”
Not only had she been in there, she had sat on people’s graves to tease a cat, read novels and eat barbecue.
Ji Ling was horrified. “What did you say?!!!”
Seeing his expression—looking exactly like the protagonist of The Scream as if the sky were falling—Qu Qi quickly tried to comfort him. “It’s fine! I go in there every day, and look at me, I’m perfectly okay. If something was going to happen, it would have happened by now. I’m still healthy as can be, see?”
As she spoke, she flexed her bicep in front of Ji Ling to demonstrate her “strength” and health.
Ji Ling looked at her slender, delicate arm, then pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment to steady himself. “…As long as you’re okay, Senior Sister. If you run into trouble later, remember to send me a voice transmission. I’ll get here as fast as I can.”
Qu Qi nodded.
Ji Ling looked at her, saying pensively, “Sister, you seem a bit different than before. Your temper is much better.” She hadn’t cursed at anyone today; was this even legal?
Qu Qi thought to herself: The soul inside has been swapped; of course it’s different.
She let out a purposefully profound sigh. “These past few days of seclusion on the back mountain have given me much insight. The world is so beautiful, yet I was so irritable—that’s not good. From now on, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf and start anew.”
Ji Ling replied without much hope, “…As long as you’re happy, Sister.”
He remembered something else and added, “Right, recently the Bright Moon Manor and Jiehai Pavilion have both sent people to the Sword Inquiry Sect. It seems they’re here to discuss the recent strange celestial phenomena and the depletion of the spiritual veins.”
Qu Qi became thoughtful. The three major sects gathering here… was the main plot starting to investigate the core mystery? It seemed the story was moving forward.
The three major sects were the leaders of the immortal world: the Sword Inquiry Sect of Penglai, Bright Moon Manor of Xihuai, and Jiehai Pavilion of Yingzhou.
In the original book, after a great war a hundred years ago, the cultivators joined forces with the immortals to defeat the demons, seizing most of the spiritual springs and blessed lands, becoming the dominant powers. The demons had retreated to the lower realm, keeping a low profile for decades.
Now, for some unknown reason, the world’s spiritual veins were gradually withering. If cultivators lost the spiritual energy supplied by these veins, they couldn’t practice, and their cultivation would stagnate. In fact, no one had successfully ascended for ten years.
With natural disasters occurring frequently in the human world and the demons showing signs of a comeback, the three sects were likely busy beyond belief.
Ji Ling lowered his voice. “According to the senior brothers and sisters, it all seems to be related to demonic cultivators and the Yan (Nightmares).”
Qu Qi shook her head. “No, completely unrelated.”
Ji Ling was surprised. “But everyone thinks so! The demonic cultivators have been bitter about their defeat a century ago, and they’ve teamed up with the Nightmares to pollute the spiritual veins.”
This was the consensus of all cultivators. They believed demons and Nightmares were the source of all calamity.
Qu Qi shook her head again. “It’s not the Nightmares, nor the demons. They are all innocent.”
Ji Ling asked, “How can you be so sure, Sister?”
Qu Qi said cryptically, “Heaven’s secrets cannot be revealed.” (Mainly because I’m a prophet with the script.)
In the original book, the damage to the veins really wasn’t their doing. But as for who the culprit was… even Qu Qi didn’t know, because the author hadn’t finished the ending. The serialization stopped at the part where the female lead was actively sharing her spiritual energy with weakened cultivators.
Yes, Su Fawhan’s Extreme Yang Constitution was like a massive bug; she automatically absorbed spiritual energy wherever she went, needing no spiritual veins. She was a walking spiritual vein herself, with an endless supply of energy to distribute. The kind and gentle female lead naturally chose to share generously, making many supporting characters devoted to her.
Qu Qi reasonably speculated that the finale would involve the Chosen One, Su Fawhan, easily leading her harem to defeat Sheng Xizhu, and everyone living happily ever after. That’s how “group pet” novels usually ended, anyway.
Thinking of this Sheng Xizhu, Qu Qi felt a wave of pity. She actually quite liked this villain.
Sheng Xizhu was both beautiful and insane in the later stages, with a tragic backstory. Combined with the mysterious aura of a villain, who wouldn’t feel for a “beautiful, strong, and miserable” antagonist?
Sheng Xizhu was the most powerful Yǎn in the book. In terms of raw strength, even the female lead was slightly inferior to her.
Nightmares (Yǎn) were the most mysterious species in the three realms, “monsters” in the eyes of the world. They were neither human nor demon, growing stronger by feeding on negative human emotions. They had almost no weaknesses. A Nightmare was equivalent to a cultivator at the Great Tribulation stage; they could flip the world upside down in a single thought.
However, they rarely acted. No one could guess their eccentric thoughts; they were dangerous and mad. Normally, they looked like regular people, but their true distorted forms were so monstrous that an ordinary person would lose their sanity just by looking at them.
When injured, their blood just like their eyes was an extremely pure and beautiful gold.
People hated Nightmares but lusted after their flesh and blood, as consuming them could drastically boost one’s cultivation. Yet, Nightmares were rare. They weren’t born that way; they were “transformed.” Only someone pushed into a hopeless situation, surviving a near-death experience while holding onto intense emotions at the brink of life and death, could become a Nightmare.
But not every dying person got the chance at a second life.
Sheng Xizhu was that unfortunate “lucky” one. What made Qu Qi so bitter was that Sheng Xizhu had once been very kind to her fellow disciples and master, only to be betrayed by those hypocrites who cut out her core and scraped her bones, leading to her ultimate ruin.
Such a gentle and humble girl, destroyed like that. It made Qu Qi want to punch the author and send her a ton of razor blades.
Ji Ling saw her contorted expression and asked, confused, “Sister, why are you so agitated?”
Qu Qi: “Nothing. Just thinking about some ‘stepmother’ authors who dig holes and never fill them.”
Ji Ling scratched his head in confusion, then suddenly remembered something. “Right, I brought you some food.”
Qu Qi’s heart warmed. “Good brother. Can you do me another favor? Next time, bring some toys to tease a cat.”
Ji Ling froze. “Since when did you have a cat, Sister?”
“Met it on the mountain,” Qu Qi said. “It’s such a headache. Runs off all day and night, who knows where it goes to fool around.”
Ji Ling thought for a moment, rummaged through his storage ring, and pulled out two corded loops. The red strings were as fine as silk, and attached to them were small, cute silver bells.
He handed them to Qu Qi. “Sister, this is called the Rain-Bells (Yu Lin Ling). When two people wear them, they can sense each other’s proximity. The closer they are, the faster the bells ring. It might be useful for you.”
Qu Qi took the rings, her slender fingertips brushing the silver bells. The crisp sound was like raindrops falling. She was amazed: “There’s actually such a thing?” It was basically a low-tech GPS, and it looked quite pretty on the wrist.
She figured she’d put one on the black cat. That way, she could tell where the “Cat Master” had gone to play and wouldn’t have to worry so much.
Ji Ling stayed for a bit before taking his leave. After watching him go, Qu Qi headed back to her “workplace” at the mass grave.
The bamboo forest was still drizzling, though the rain had lessened. Through the misty curtain, the back mountain had a hazy, beautiful aesthetic.
When she reached her “desk” the nameless headstone, she found the spirits already gathered around. They had cleared a large open space in the middle, appearing very afraid to approach.
In the center of that clearing sat a small black shadow.
Hearing Qu Qi’s footsteps, it turned its head. “Meow.”
Qu Qi stopped in her tracks and said gloomily, “Heh. So, you actually know the way back.”