Chapter 152 — Unfilial

Master Shuijing said slowly, "And moreover, Zhang Qingyue has now betrayed the righteous path, has taken to blood-devouring and fallen to demonic ways. What he has done these ten years, I need not recount to you again. To speak plainly: your affair with him is by now common gossip throughout the city, and even your sect master, Senior Uncle Daoyan, has learned of it. Only, these elders have indulged you first out of pity for your youth and ignorance, and second out of tenderness for your rare gifts and the hardship of your cultivation—and so they have given you chance after chance. Do not cling any longer to this delusion!" Toward the end, Master Shuijing's words came faster and faster, and her voice grew stern.

Lu Xueling's face grew paler still, but for some reason her body quieted, and she no longer trembled faintly as before.

Master Shuijing's expression slowly softened. She turned, helped Lu Xueling to her feet, and said gently, "Qi'er, you are my most beloved disciple. Among your fellow disciples—indeed, among the younger generation of all seven branches of the Canglan Sect—your gift for the cultivation of the Dao is the highest, and your future is truly boundless. My hopes for you are very high. Do you know that?"

Lu Xueling said in a low voice, "Yes, Master."

Master Shuijing looked at her and said, "With your gifts, the seat of the head of the Xiaozhu Peak branch will one day be yours by right. Then you will be revered by all, and you may calm your heart and contemplate the way of Heaven. Is that not what you once dreamed of?"

Lu Xueling was silent, only lowering her head slightly. On her beautiful face, apart from the pallor, there was only the slow shifting of light in her bright eyes—and there, at some unknown moment, the mist that had once gathered had vanished.

Master Shuijing sighed and said, "Go back and think it over carefully."

Lu Xueling stood before her, and on hearing this she did not turn at once to leave, but slowly raised her head and looked at the benefactress who had raised her with her own hands.

"What is it, Qi'er?" Master Shuijing asked.

"Master," Lu Xueling called softly, then said, "It is I who have wronged you."

Master Shuijing shook her head and sighed. "What foolishness is this?"

Something in Lu Xueling's manner seemed not quite right; on a face habitually cold there appeared a rare flicker of agitation, and even her breathing slowly quickened. Master Shuijing noticed at once, frowned at her, and said, "What is it, Qi'er?"

It was as though stormy waves had risen in Lu Xueling's heart, so that her face too shifted like wind and cloud. But at last she said slowly to Master Shuijing, in a low voice, "Master, you are right. I have indeed been muddled. I know that between Zhang Qingyue and me there was never any possibility—it was a doomed bond from the first."

A flicker of grief passed through Master Shuijing's eyes, and she said gently, "Qi'er, the shore lies behind you once you turn back. If only you cut these threads of feeling, it is no such terrible thing. At least there is still your master, still Xiaozhu Peak, still the Canglan Sect to take you in."

Lu Xueling jerked her head up, so suddenly and with such force that it startled anyone to see; her clear, lovely face was now full of anguish and desolation, and even her voice seemed to tremble: "Master, but I cannot cut them."

Master Shuijing's expression changed drastically. She fixed Lu Xueling with a deep stare, then suddenly raised her hand and brought it down—crack—a heavy slap across Lu Xueling's face. Lu Xueling did not dodge or draw back; she stood rooted where she was without moving, only biting her lip as her body slowly began to tremble.

"You—what did you say?" Master Shuijing's voice too seemed to shake, yet it was filled through and through with fury. "You—you traitorous disciple, do you know what you are saying?"

Lu Xueling's face had long since gone bloodless, yet meeting Master Shuijing's gaze, as though she had resolved herself at last, she said with finality, "Master, you took me in as a child and raised me, taught me and kept me—there is no kindness deeper than this. Xueling is unfilial, has angered and grieved her master, and deserves death ten thousand times..."

Her white robes fluttering, she knelt once more before Master Shuijing. "Xueling would rather die than betray her master and the righteous path. If in days to come I meet that Zhang Qingyue, I shall do all in my power to take his life with the Tianxuan. If I fail, then I shall simply die at his hands..."

Master Shuijing had been all fury at first; hearing Lu Xueling declare that she would not betray the righteous path and would fight Zhang Qingyue to the death, her expression eased somewhat. But the words that followed turned her face white with shock once more.

Kneeling before her, Lu Xueling drew a deep breath and drew her gaze back, looking at the ground before her—as though looking too into the depths of her own heart—and said slowly, "But this single thread of guilty feeling, your disciple cannot cut. She cannot cut it."

The room fell in an instant into deathly stillness, as though even the sound of breathing had stopped. A moment later, Master Shuijing's shrill, furious scolding rang out, echoing through that quiet chamber:

"You—you traitorous disciple, get out! Get out! I never want to see you again!..."