Chapter 192 — The Hidden Wound

Ming Li's face turned cold in an instant, but before he could speak, Jin Pingyue pressed on: "These ten years, especially since Bilu's misfortune, you have never stayed so long alone with a woman, have you? Perhaps without meaning to, over these days together, the hostility between us has faded, and you let slip a few words—and now you feel you have wronged her?"

Ming Li stared at Jin Pingyue, his gaze already icy. "What do you mean by saying such things? And why bring up Bilu?"

Under that cold gaze, which seemed capable of killing, Jin Pingyue showed not the slightest fear or thought of retreat. On the contrary, she smiled faintly, and in her eyes there seemed a hidden excitement, as though she were provoking him. Her gaze flickered. "You are afraid, are you not?"

Ming Li sprang to his feet in a rush. "Afraid of what? Say one more word of this nonsense and I will not be courteous—"

"You are afraid you will forget Bilu!" Jin Pingyue suddenly raised her voice, and her cry, clear as ice splitting and snow severing, cut into the invisible space between them.

Ming Li's mouth, opened in anger, froze as though locked in place; no sound at all would come out, as if he had been struck in a vital spot. Jin Pingyue too fell suddenly silent. In that shouted question, which seemed still to echo around them, the world about them went still—not a whisper of sound.

Just then the sky was a deep blue, distant mountain ranges rose and fell, and a wind seemed to blow in from the far horizon; the woods and grasses began to rustle and murmur.

It was already afternoon. The wind brushed across their faces and through their hair.

The sunlight grew lazier still. The two faced each other in silence; neither spoke.

Jin Pingyue watched the man before her, something ceaselessly flickering in her eyes—something like pity, and something like a cold smile.

After a long while, she reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair, blown loose by the wind onto her brow, behind her ear, and her voice grew gentler too. "For the sake of a sentiment from those years ago, you no longer even dare trust yourself—is it that you fear you might forget her without meaning to?" Her smile too seemed faint, like a wildflower swaying lightly in the wind. "Pressing yourself down with all your might, reminding yourself at every turn—who in all the world knows that this Ming Li, the first great general of the Mingwang Sect whom everyone dreads and fears, is such a pitiful man?"

Ming Li's expression shifted, paling and darkening by turns. Then suddenly he drew a long breath, lifted his head to the sky, held his breath a moment, and slowly let it out. When he looked back again, his face was calm as ever, with not the slightest trace of sorrow or joy—only a flat indifference.

"And what are you, to speak to me this way, when you yourself—how do you fare?" he said lightly, a faint mockery in his eyes, as though in that instant he had quite forgotten his momentary loss of composure.

Jin Pingyue smiled. "Me? I am nothing at all—only a woman keeping you company just now!"

Ming Li paid no heed to the barb hidden in her words and turned his head away. Just then the grass nearby parted suddenly, a gray shadow flashed, and out leaped Xiaohui. It bounded back to Ming Li's side in a few hops, and on closer look, the monkey was clutching a number of wild fruits, its mouth still chewing busily—no wonder its familiar squeaks had not been heard.

Ming Li gathered it up and held out his hand. Xiaohui grinned wide and laid the fruits it had picked in his palm. They were a lovely, vivid red, though not large, plump and full—most tempting to look at.

Ming Li put one in his mouth and bit into it twice. The taste was faintly astringent, but the flesh was juicy and sweet, a rare delicacy. He nodded, picked out several, glanced at Jin Pingyue, and handed them over. "Xiaohui has a born gift for telling poison. The wild fruits it picks can all be eaten."

Jin Pingyue did not take them at once. Her gaze turned over the hand held out before her, and suddenly her face lit with a smile. "Sharing your food with me like this—you have no more misgivings in your heart, have you?"

Ming Li frowned and gave a snort, turning his palm over into a fist as if to draw it back. But at that very moment Jin Pingyue's arm shot out swiftly, and to his surprise she caught hold of his hand. "I want them, I want them," she said with a smile.

Ming Li's expression shifted slightly. He looked at Jin Pingyue, then slowly opened his fingers, revealing the wild fruits.

The soft skin of her palm, and far off, a faint, elusive breath drifting through the wind. Jin Pingyue's gaze now seemed suddenly soft as rippling water, flowing gently and lightly, as she reached out slender, white fingers and picked the wild fruits from Ming Li's palm one by one.

Her delicate nails seemed to brush carelessly across the rough skin of his palm—warm, and yet bearing an eerie chill.

She gazed at the man before her, slowly and gently let go of his hand, then smiled and put a wild fruit to her lips. After a few bites she said with a smile, "Very tasty."

Her smile was the most ravishing blossom of that noontide, stirring to the heart.

Ming Li looked at her and said not a word.

Jin Pingyue's smile grew more bewitching still. "What is it? Not a single word—you look like a fool."

Ming Li watched Jin Pingyue laugh behind her hand, his own face betraying nothing. Only after a moment did he suddenly say, "'Purple Radiance Blade' is a weapon of the utmost yin, fierce and malevolent. That you could cultivate it to 'Gathering Yin into the Abyss' and merge it into one body with your own meridians—that is truly remarkable."

"Pop"—the several wild fruits in Jin Pingyue's hand burst in an instant, and before even their juice could splash out, they had been frozen solid by a sudden, eerie blast of yin cold, and fell to the ground.

The gentle smile on Jin Pingyue's face vanished in an instant; her gaze turned to a blade, fixed deep upon Ming Li.

Ming Li, however, seemed not to notice at all, and said mildly, "It is only that although you possess a pure yin constitution and share a natural affinity with the spirit of the Purple Radiance Blade, the cold yin qi within you is too abundant. A solitary yin cannot flourish, yet you insist on cultivating; the yin qi seeps into your body, and your meridians and blood are all injured by it. With this magic treasure your power is surely formidable, but if in the future you wish to advance another layer and take another step upon the path of cultivation, I fear it will be harder still."

Having spoken, he paid no heed to the exceedingly ugly expression Jin Pingyue now wore, turned, and walked away, calling out as he went. The monkey Xiaohui, which had been eating wild fruit off to one side, leaped over, scrambled up onto his shoulder in a few bounds, and he continued striding toward that distant scorched-black peak.

Only Jin Pingyue remained where she stood, watching that receding figure, then slowly raising her right hand and gazing at it in silence. In the sunlight, that pale, slender, and beautiful palm gleamed like translucent jade, yet from its deepest recesses, faint but unmistakable, one could still see a dim, unnatural pale blue, spread like the finest blood vessels through the depths of the muscle's grain.

Jin Pingyue's face was calm as water. Suddenly she gave a cold snort, said nothing at all, and set off straight in the direction Ming Li had gone. As she lifted her foot, she ground the wild fruits that had been frozen into ice blocks heavily to pieces.