Chapter 195 — Old Ground

His devotions now complete, Tian Buhui stepped forward to set the incense into the burner, but his body abruptly froze, and even the hand holding the incense stopped in midair.

In an instant the great hall fell into utter dead silence. The two figures, one standing, one seated, seemed both to have stiffened, motionless. The distant yellow banners, for no discernible reason—as though a breeze had passed through the hall—fluttered softly a few times, then slowly stilled again.

Outside the Ancestral Hall, Lin Jinghong was frowning in deep thought when something seemed to strike him. He jerked his head up and stared deep into that quiet, dim hall, a look of faint astonishment on his face.

In a daze, that hall which had lain so quietly sleeping seemed like a beast roused from slumber, coldly opening its eyes.

How long passed, no one could say. The mysterious ghostfire in Immortal Daoyan's eyes suddenly died away again—coming abruptly, and departing just as swiftly. As those uncanny eyes slowly closed, the grim hall at once eased; the surrounding candlelight too gradually lost its brilliance and returned to its former faint glimmer.

The slender incense in Tian Buhui's hand still burned softly, three tiny points of fire showing faintly in the dark. But as the sticks trembled, flakes of ash like white catkins drifted gently down and fell upon his hand.

Tian Buhui's face was indifferent. He glanced coldly at the ash on the back of his hand, stood silently a moment, then gave his hand a gentle flick to shake the ash away. Then he stepped forward and reverently set the three sticks of incense into the burner.

Six slender sticks burned together in the burner, their light smoke drifting and curling upward.

Without a word, Tian Buhui bowed three times more to the spirit tablets, then slowly turned around to face the figure seated on the rush cushion upon the floor.

"Senior Brother Daoyan," he said slowly, gazing deeply at the man, his eyes—for some reason—filled at once with astonishment and grief and indignation, and a faint, hidden pain as well. "We meet again!"

Most of Immortal Daoyan's face was shrouded in shadow, impossible to see clearly. To Tian Buhui's words he seemed utterly deaf, giving no response at all, sitting as quietly as before.

Tian Buhui stood and looked at him a while, saying nothing more, though the expression on his face only grew heavier. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly; he took a step, walked to Immortal Daoyan's side, and sat down upon another rush cushion less than three feet away.

The great hall was utterly still.

The southern borderlands, the Ten Thousand Wild Mountains, the scorched black peak.

Along the way the eerie howls of ghosts grew ever louder, and a sinister wind—no one knew from where—whistled without cease, cutting at the flesh like knives. Had Ming Li and Jin Pingyue not both been deep in cultivation, those wailing ghosts and that freezing evil wind alone would likely have been enough to drive a person mad.

Yet though the sinister air around them grew ever thicker, and the two of them kept ever more carefully on guard, they met with no danger and no ambush—not even when they reached the foot of the valley, where they could already see from afar the deep, pitch-black mouth of the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression. This place, spread across the mountains like a realm of ghosts, was incredibly quiet: not to speak of fierce beast-demons, even the venomous insects and savage beasts that had been everywhere since they entered the Ten Thousand Wild Mountains had vanished without a trace.

This grim place seemed, in fact, to be the safest spot in all the barren, treacherous Ten Thousand Wild Mountains.

Ming Li and Jin Pingyue stood upon a small hill, gazing at that ancient, deep cave from afar. Faintly, they could still make out the stone statue standing at the cave's mouth.

Both wore slight frowns. Here, at this place, the unexpected calm brought them only greater misgiving.

Jin Pingyue pointed toward the cave mouth. "That is the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression. When I tracked that man in black to this place, I saw with my own eyes the Beast Sovereign reborn from within that cave."

Ming Li nodded slightly, then looked around the cave. Apart from that bottomless dark opening, the cave was surrounded by sheer cliffs and jagged, hideous rock. Some ten-odd zhang above the cave, pressed close against the stone face, hung a thick layer of black cloud, drifting slowly in midair like water-mist. From its dense blackness one needed no asking to know it must be something violently poisonous. At a glance, an ordinary person would find no path anywhere—it was a place of death.

Drawing back his gaze, Ming Li pondered a moment. "Shall we go in?"

Jin Pingyue showed a hint of hesitation. She was silent a good while, but at last nodded. "Well—we've come all this way. How could we shrink back now? Let's go."

Ming Li glanced at her and saw something strange in her expression; her face was somewhat pale, plainly still somewhat wary of that mysterious cave. In truth, was she the only one? Even the little gray monkey on Ming Li's shoulder seemed to have changed its temper, sitting especially quiet.

As though sensing something, Jin Pingyue turned and looked at Ming Li, then suddenly smiled, revealing a row of lovely white teeth. "I'll be fine," she said with a smile. "Let's go."

Ming Li nodded and went first. Jin Pingyue followed behind him as they walked slowly toward the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression.

The sound of footsteps on the hard, scorched black rock was swiftly drowned in the ceaseless howling of the evil wind. The closer they came to the cave mouth, the fiercer the biting wind grew, and the colder the sinister chill it carried.

By now both had realized that the source of the biting evil wind sweeping the whole mountain was, astonishingly, blowing out from that ancient cave.

The closer they came to the opening, the dimmer the light around them seemed to grow. More and more of the radiance was blotted out by the black cloud above the cave mouth, as though such a place would not permit light to enter.

And the stone statue that stood at the deep cave's mouth, facing into its depths, at last gradually came clear before their eyes.

The stretch of road was not truly long, yet to the two of them it seemed they had walked a very, very long time. When at last they stood at the mouth of the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression, the sky had gone completely dark; the sunlight that had been warm upon them not long before had vanished entirely above the black cloud.

Ming Li slowly came around to the cave mouth and stood before the stone statue of the woman.

Dim light fell upon her.

The wind and frost of countless ages had slowly carved the first soft, beautiful smoothness into roughness. Amid the shifting years of seas turned to mulberry fields, how many pairs of eyes had gazed thus, faint and quiet, upon your face.

Time flows on like water in a great river, never pausing for even half a moment. The first stirrings of the heart, the first memories, those countless threads once so deeply graven in the heart—in the end, it seems, they must all be forgotten.

Leaving only a shred or two lingering in legend, spoken of carelessly by later generations after long ages have passed.

Your former beauty, your former glory—before time, they scatter like dust in the wind.

The cold wind swept past the collar and struck the body. A gaze fixed through ten thousand years—perhaps, in the end, it cannot compare to a single moment's regret!

A soft hand patted his shoulder gently; the monkey Little Gray's chittering rose at his ear. Ming Li's body gave a slight shudder; he abruptly stepped back, then came to himself—unwittingly, while gazing at this stone statue of the young woman, he had fallen into a trance.