Chapter 22 — Night

But the qilin only glanced at him and looked back at the staff; and this time it actually lowered its head and brought its nose down to the rod, sniffing at it most carefully. Zhang Qingyue's heart was still pounding, but watching the strange behavior of the beast before him, it occurred to him that this was very like Old Yellow; had he not been so terrified, he might almost have laughed aloud.

The qilin sniffed a while and clearly got nothing for its pains. It raised its head and looked all about, seeming quite at a loss, quite confused. But a thousand-year spirit beast is a thousand-year spirit beast after all: after a moment's thought it decided to give the matter up. It gave a snort, glared once at Zhang Qingyue — which frightened him half to death again — then, wagging its head and tail, turned and walked down into the pool, and in a moment the water splashed high and its vast body sank from sight.

Only then did Zhang Qingyue somewhat recover his wits. He clambered slowly to his feet and realized that the clothes on his back were soaked through, to say nothing of the cold sweat running down his brow like rain. He went to the Dark Iron Staff, picked it up, and examined it over and over, but could see nothing at all unusual about it, and could not help crying out, "What the devil is this!"

Before the words were out of his mouth, there came a sound of water from the Emerald Pool beside him; a great surge of spray went up, and in the white foam he glimpsed the qilin's huge tail lashing above the surface.

Zhang Qingyue was badly startled. He jammed the Dark Iron Staff into his bosom and ran for all he was worth. All the way the water behind him kept sounding, and he dared not look back once, only ran desperately, the farther the better. In a moment he was up on the Rainbow Bridge, running straight up it, and he did not stop until he could no longer hear any sound behind him, until he had reached the very top of the bridge, where he halted, gasping for breath.

"Hah — hah — hah!"

Little by little Zhang Qingyue's breathing quieted; but of a sudden he felt very tired, with a weariness that rose from the depths of his heart. He lowered his head, and there in the moonlight he saw a lone shadow that had followed him all the while.

Suddenly he lifted his head and looked up at the sky: the cold heavens, and a cold moon hanging high. He gazed and gazed, and for a time he was quite lost.

At dawn, the others awoke.

Du Bi said, "Honestly, after a whole night's sleep my back's about to break. How am I supposed to compete today?"

Old Fifth, Lü Daxin, frowned and said, "Old Sixth, stop making such a racket. I slept the whole night too, and my back's fine."

Song Dayi, standing nearby, chimed in, "That's right. You complained all night long last night, Old Sixth, wasn't that enough? Don't you see Old Fifth and our little junior brother haven't made a peep?"

Du Bi said, "Old Fifth just has thick skin and coarse flesh, he doesn't feel anything. If you don't believe me, ask our little junior brother—hey, little junior brother, why are your eyes all bloodshot? Did you really not sleep well last night?"

Zhang Qingyue had finished tidying his bedding and now sat in a chair, staring blankly out the window without the slightest reaction. Big Yellow lay at his feet, while the monkey Xiao Hui was rummaging through Big Yellow's fur as if hunting for fleas.

Du Biyan walked over and clapped him hard on the shoulder. Zhang Qingyue gave a start and leapt up, startling Big Yellow and Xiao Hui as well. He turned his head this way and that and said, "Wh-what is it?"

Du Bi said, "Xiaofan, why are you so out of sorts? Didn't you sleep well last night?"

Zhang Qingyue froze for a moment, then shook his head and said, "N-no, I did."

Du Bi said, "Then why are your eyes all bloodshot and red?"

Zhang Qingyue was just about to speak when He Dachuan, who had come over, cut in, "Old Sixth, mind your own business. It doesn't matter how poorly our little junior brother is feeling—he has a bye today anyway. But if you don't wash up soon and end up missing the matches, you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Du Biyan was struck with sudden enlightenment. He no longer cared whether Zhang Qingyue had slept well or not. He rushed over, utterly ignoring Lü Daxin, Zheng Dali, and the others who were washing their faces, seized the basin, and splashed water wildly over his face, saying all the while, "Hmph, our little junior brother is just born lucky. Look at him, wearing that look like he's about to die and sleeping his life away. Good heavens—Old Fifth, give me back the basin, I'm running out of time!"

"Bah, I haven't even washed yet myself!"

Zhang Qingyue watched his senior brothers squabbling endlessly over a washbasin on the other side of the room, and felt a faint disgust rise in his heart. He stood up and walked out. Just as he reached the doorway, Song Dayi suddenly called from behind, "Little junior brother, have you washed yet?"

Zhang Qingyue turned his head and said, "I have, eldest senior brother."

Song Dayi nodded and said, "Good. It's fine for you to go out for a walk first, but in a little while you're to go to the dining hall for breakfast. Understood?"

Zhang Qingyue answered, "Understood." With that he stepped out. The monkey Xiao Hui gave two squeaks, ran over, and scrambled up onto his shoulder. Seeing Xiao Hui go, Big Yellow lazily clambered up too, wagged its tail, and followed him out. In the corridor, Zhang Qingyue saw on every side the busy figures of fellow disciples from the various branches of the Canglan Sect, all just risen from bed. He wandered along at an easy pace, and before he knew it had come to the Sea of Clouds Plaza.

The hour was still early, and only a scattered few Qingyun disciples were walking upon the sea of clouds. A cool mountain wind blew past, brushing Zhang Qingyue's face with a faint chill.

Just like last night!

A pain stabbed at Zhang Qingyue's heart. He was sixteen now, a youth in the first stirrings of love. He had lived on Dazhu Peak for five years, in daily company with Tian Lingsu, and since childhood had buried deep in his heart a profound affection for this beautiful, vivacious senior sister. But last night he had with his own eyes witnessed Tian Lingsu meeting Qi Hao in secret—a thunderbolt from a clear sky, throwing his heart into utter turmoil.

At this moment his mind was a jumble, and scene after scene from last night—each one stabbing him with deadly pain—flashed before him. He drifted along like a wandering ghost without a master, walking on without aim.

"Eh?" Suddenly a cry of surprise sounded at his side, giving Zhang Qingyue a start and rousing him from his tangled thoughts. He looked over and saw a young Qingyun disciple, delicate of feature, in a long robe, perhaps twenty years old, holding in his hand a fan traced in gold, upon which seemed to be painted landscapes and rivers. The man had drawn close to him, yet his pair of bright, large eyes never once glanced at Zhang Qingyue—they were fixed unblinkingly on the monkey Xiao Hui perched on Zhang Qingyue's shoulder.