Chapter 30 — Strange Arts

The contempt in that frost-cold woman's eyes was plain for all to see. On the square, everyone knew that he had reached the final four more by luck than by strength.

Behind her, Tianxuan gave off a faint blue radiance. Zhang Qingyue looked at that legendary divine object and thought dully: In a little while, I will be facing it, won't I?

And then, in a moment, he forgot the question entirely. Ever since returning the night before, his spirit had been rising and falling in a kind of daze.

Above the sea of clouds there were only two great platforms remaining now, but judging by the number of Qingyun disciples gathered to watch, those watching Qi Hao and Zeng Shuyan's contest on the western platform were likely fewer than three in ten of the crowd here. Almost everyone had been drawn to Lu Xueqi, the most dazzling figure of this tournament, and Zhang Qingyue, whose luck was too good—and among the elders, the great majority, including Sect Master Dao Yan himself, sat beneath this platform.

Yet when the crowd saw Lu Xueqi step onto the stage, after a burst of cheering, most of the talk was of whether Zhang Qingyue would be defeated in a breath or in an instant.

Below the stage, Tian Buhui's brows were tightly knit. He knew Zhang Qingyue's foundations well enough, but hearing the contemptuous chatter behind him still made him deeply uncomfortable. Beside him, Su Wan was turning this way and that, searching for her daughter. After last night's great quarrel, Tian Lingsu had run off weeping, and this morning she was nowhere to be seen. Knowing her daughter as a mother does, she feared the stubborn girl had gone to the platform where Qi Hao was fighting.

She shook her head. Though she doted on her only daughter, this time she stood wholly on her husband's side. Perhaps it was a mother's instinct, but she had always felt that the people of Dragon Peak were not quite right.

She turned her head and looked up at the stage. At the same moment, Zhang Qingyue on the stage was looking back at her, expressionless. Their eyes met in the air, and after a moment Zhang Qingyue glanced at the places around her, as though he had not found the person he was looking for, and silently withdrew his gaze.

Su Wan frowned slightly and said to Tian Buhui, "Xiaofan looks off today—as though the life has gone out of him."

Tian Buhui said mildly, "He's just nervous. The boy has never seen anything like this. Nothing strange in it."

Su Wan fell silent and said no more.

Zhang Qingyue withdrew his gaze and let it fall on Lu Xueqi's face across from him. In the rising sunlight that peerless face glowed, radiant and striking. Soon Lu Xueqi felt his gaze and the contempt in her eyes appeared once more.

But this time Zhang Qingyue did not look away. He did not even register the mocking look across from him. That beautiful face meant nothing at all to him now. Only deep in his heart a voice was murmuring, low and anguished: She isn't here. She's gone to watch Qi Hao's match!

Clever as Lu Xueqi was, she soon realized that this opponent's eyes were on her, yet in that vacant gaze he was plainly thinking of something else and ignoring her existence altogether. This was almost the first time in her life such a thing had happened, and a flicker of surprise seemed to show in her eyes.

"Dang!"

Bell and cauldron rang out together, echoing over Jietian Peak. All around, silence fell swiftly.

Lu Xueqi straightened, drew a deep breath. Only two more victories—just two—and she could realize her dream and her master's hopes. Tianxuan was at her back, its blue light gradually brightening.

"Disciple Lu Xueqi of Xiaozhu Peak. Pray instruct me."

Zhang Qingyue started as if waking from a dream—but his first reaction was not to return the courtesy. Instead, with a desperate hope, he looked down into the crowd below, where heads bobbed and every eye was upon the stage, and yet the one he wished to see was nowhere among them.

Lu Xueqi's expression changed, and a stir ran through the Qingyun disciples below. This was the first person ever to be so rude to Lu Xueqi. Tian Buhui and Su Wan exchanged a glance and both sensed at once that something was truly wrong with their young disciple today.

Zhang Qingyue turned his head slowly, his face ashen, and said quietly, "I am Zhang Qingyue of Dazhu Peak. Senior Sister, I beg you—do not go easy on me."

Lu Xueqi was taken aback. The words exchanged before a match were mere courtesies, but this Zhang Qingyue seemed very strange indeed. Who would ask an opponent not to hold back? It sounded like mockery, and yet by his look it did not seem so.

But Lu Xueqi was, after all, Master Shuijing's prized disciple, her mind firm. Her expression did not change in the slightest, and she said no more. With a motion of her right hand, Tianxuan behind her rose slowly into the air.

Zhang Qingyue watched the blue light grow deeper and broader, until even his own body was tinged blue by it, and yet he could no longer find the least trace of nervousness. Instead, deep in his heart, he was faintly anticipating something.

He brought out that black, ugly rod of dark iron.

A burst of laughter ran through the crowd below. Beside the splendid, noble, utterly celestial Tianxuan across from him, the dark iron rod looked like an ugly worm crawling on the ground.

And at this moment, a worm whose heart had died within it.

The cold sensation once more flooded through his whole body. For some reason, today the dark iron rod seemed to have come alive, unusually excited; the cold current moved far faster than before. Zhang Qingyue even felt that if not for the blood-and-flesh bond between himself and the rod, if not for his own hand upon it, it would long since have hurled itself at Lu Xueqi.

No—not at Lu Xueqi, but at Tianxuan. That inexplicable feeling was like two foes bound by a hatred deep as the sea.

At that moment, Lu Xueqi's expression too changed slightly. Tianxuan's radiance was too fierce—perhaps she herself found it strange.

But Zhang Qingyue had no mind to ponder it further. Gazing at the beautiful woman bathed in blue light, he suddenly realized that she resembled his senior sister—but this "senior sister" looked at him coldly, with frozen eyes.

Then something unexpected happened on the stage: Zhang Qingyue and Lu Xueqi did not move to fight at all, but only stared at each other, utterly still.

Below, the crowd erupted in an uproar of speculation.

Lu Xueqi came sharply to herself. Tianxuan, which had always been in spiritual communion with her, had suddenly shown an agitation it had never shown before, and this puzzled her. Yet when she examined it with her thought-force, she found nothing amiss—only that Tianxuan seemed faintly eager, straining to be tried.

Sensing the countless strange stares from below, Lu Xueqi knit her brows, steadied her mind, and gave a cold snort. Pushing all distracting thoughts from her mind, she uttered a soft cry, and Tianxuan blazed with blue light and shot skyward—yet still did not leave its sheath.

Since the Seven Branches Tournament began, Tianxuan had been the focus of all eyes, but until now Lu Xueqi had defeated every opponent in turn without ever drawing it. This set everyone guessing who could force her to unsheathe the divine sword. At this moment, all speculated that it would have to be in the final battle—that only one of Qi Hao of Dragon Peak's attainments could accomplish it.

The blue light fell upon Zhang Qingyue's face, yet it revealed no expression there. The dark iron rod gave off a faint blue-green glow, slowly left his palm, and hovered before him.

Though they had long since seen the rod and examined it, the folk of Dazhu Peak—and most of the onlookers—were seeing Zhang Qingyue work his arts for the first time. Du Bi said, "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never believe that the clumsy little junior brother of two years ago had suddenly become a heaven-sent prodigy."