Chapter 118 — Deep Scar

All was quiet around them.

The night was deep, and it was a desolate hour.

The long street lay silent; the bright moon hung at the edge of the sky, and its clear radiance spilled down, drawing out the long shadows of the two figures standing in that barren street.

What feeling was this, ten thousand words tangling at the heart, yet faced with one another, they could not speak.

The lonely wind of the deep night stirred their garments gently.

The Tianxuan in Lu Xueling's hand glimmered with a faint blue light, then slowly dipped, and was drawn back.

Ming Li was silent.

Lu Xueling gazed at the man before her. Beneath the moonlight, Ming Li suddenly felt as though he could not breathe.

No blows were struck, no slaughter, no wounds, no blood—and yet somehow, every time he faced this beautiful woman, under the watch of her eyes, there was always this nameless feeling.

That peerless face, cold and pure as snow, seemed faintly to be the same aloof, exquisite woman he had first met that year.

He only did not know when it was that his own shadow had come to dwell in her eyes.

"That woman just now—was she Jin Pingyue of the Enchantment Sect?" Lu Xueling asked suddenly, quietly.

Ming Li started, then nodded silently. "She was."

Lu Xueling looked at him, something flickering deep in her eyes, and said mildly, "Have you been with her all this time?"

Almost instinctively, Ming Li shook his head at once. "No, there is nothing at all between her and me—"

"—Ge." His voice suddenly dropped, and he sensed something strange in his own feelings, as though he were trying to explain himself.

But the strange light in Lu Xueling's eyes had already faded, as if some weight had suddenly lifted from her shoulders; even her expression seemed to have softened a little.

Only, between the two of them there still stretched a great distance, like a deep chasm.

Moonlight like water lingered along that barren street.

Far off, the figures of Jin Pingyue and Li Xun in their pursuit had long since vanished, and in the vast stronghold it seemed only the two of them remained.

They stood for orthodoxy and heresy, sworn enemies who could never coexist, yet neither of them, at this moment, had any thought of raising a hand. In the cold, clear radiance, Lu Xueling said suddenly, "You... would you walk with me a while?"

Ming Li lifted his head, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

They walked slowly along that ruined street, the night deep, the moonlight like water.

On either side of the street lay only broken walls and crumbling ruins. Yet as the night wind blew, on this alien hill a thousand miles from home, there seemed, in the stillness, a faint tenderness.

The two walked shoulder to shoulder, yet still three feet apart; deliberately or not, they seemed to be quietly keeping some taboo.

Only, in such desolate night, how could the heart not be tangled?

A faint, delicate fragrance drifted on the wind, at their side, now hidden, now revealed.

"Do you still remember the first match between us, at the Seven Veins Tournament on Mount Canglan?"

Lu Xueling suddenly broke the silence, speaking quietly.

Ming Li paused, somewhat surprised. In his memory, Lu Xueling was anything but a talkative person. Yet somehow, tonight she seemed a little strange.

Even so, he nodded. "I remember. You could already use the Divine Sword Thunder Command Art even then—that was truly remarkable."

Lu Xueling glanced at him and said mildly, "But that match—I actually lost."

Ming Li was silent, then said in a low voice, "At that time your cultivation in the Dao arts was far above mine. In truth, I..."

"I lost," Lu Xueling said. A trace of sorrow crossed her face, and she said softly, "I knew even then that at the very last moment, you deliberately held back. And yet I do not know why—I could not master my own competitiveness. That time, no matter what, I could not bring myself to tell the truth to my master and my uncles, jubilant as they were."

Ming Li smiled. "Such a small thing—after all these years, why do you still hold it in your heart?"

Lu Xueling lifted her head and gazed at the bright moon in the sky, lost in thought. Her beauty, under the moon, was like a flower blooming softly in the clear light.

"From that time on, I have kept you in my heart," she said softly, faintly.

Ming Li's body jolted; he jerked his head up. He could never have imagined that such words would come from the lips of Lu Xueling, ever cold as ice and frost. Yet looking at that lovely figure in the moonlight, she was unmistakably there before him.

In his heart there rose suddenly an ill foreboding, like a calamity stealing upon him, waiting quietly ahead. He could feel it, and could no longer escape it.

"Later, we went together to the Kongsang Mountain, beneath the Dead Spirit Abyss, and fought the demon cultists, and battled the ghosts and specters. You risked your life to save me, and I did the same for you..."

She spoke thus softly, her voice drifting, with a touch of unreality; and Ming Li—no, it was as if in that moment he had once more become the Zhang Qingyue he had once been, the years of the past rising one by one before his eyes.

Only, he could not utter a single word.

"At that time we were trapped in a hopeless place, struggling on the edge of death, and yet I was never afraid. If I had died there with you, I—"

She turned and faced this man, a light in her eyes that had never been there before, a thousand tender feelings buried deep in her heart that had never shown before; even through the snow-pale skin of her cheeks there now faintly showed a delicate pink, a beauty that stirred the soul.

"...I would have been willing!" She spoke slowly, yet with the firmness of ice split and snow cut.

The night was just right!

The evening wind blew lightly!

The two, face to face, suddenly both fell silent.

Ming Li's heart was in chaos, a thousand thoughts crowding into his mind—yet as if from within a surging, turbid tide, a voice cried out loudly:

Bili!

In an instant, he went cold from head to foot, his blood cold, his heart cold.

Lu Xueling watched the man before her quietly, taking in every change in his face and expression. At first confusion, then bewilderment, perhaps a trace of panic—and then, all at once, indifference, an indifference that wrapped him up tight and whole!

Yet the tenderness in her eyes did not diminish by half; she went on speaking in a low voice.

"Later—Liubo Mountain, Jietian Peak—one thing after another. I stood by and watched you change little by little. Until at last, on Jietian Peak, beneath the Immortal-Slaying Sword, after that Miss Bili took that blow for you, I knew you could never turn back."

A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth, utterly bitter, and she said quietly, "And truly, you never did turn back."

Ming Li secretly clenched both hands, his nails digging deep into his palms; he breathed hard, gritting his teeth, willing his indifference not to crumble in an instant.

Only... only...

Only how could he face this woman with indifference?

"Why must you do this to yourself?" he said in a low voice.

Lu Xueling smiled a desolate smile, her gaze distant; her figure in the moonlight was bleak and beautiful.

"I do not regret it. Ten years, and my heart still holds you. If it were possible, I would rather give up everything and go with you to the ends of the earth. But in the end, it is impossible!"

She bit her lip and repeated low, slowly: "Impossible, impossible..."

Then she lifted her head!

Her lips were so white, the skin of her face paler still, as if it would turn transparent; only her gaze was bright as the lonely moonlight hanging high in the sky at that moment.

"The Canglan Sect raised me and nurtured me; my master cherished me, loved me, taught me. I can never betray Qingyun."

"Today I have told you all this so that you would understand my heart—and then, before your eyes, cut away this ten years of foolish longing!"