Chapter 227 — Kin

Su Wan sighed, and deep weariness showed on her face, as though she had not even the strength left to scold. She only gave a faint wave of her hand and said, "Go out, all of you."

Song Dayi and the others dared not defy their master's wife further. One by one they withdrew with bitter faces, yet that great stone in their hearts lay heavy still, and they knew not what to do. Ming Li bowed lightly to Su Wan several times and slowly backed away as well. But scarcely had he taken a few steps when Su Wan suddenly said, "Old Seven, stay. I have questions for you."

Ming Li started and halted. Behind him, however, Song Dayi and the rest breathed easier. Come what may, so long as someone was at their master's wife's side, no mishap should befall. Then came the sound of footsteps, and in no time Song Dayi and the other five had all withdrawn from the Hall of Quiet Cultivation.

The Hall of Quiet Cultivation fell quiet. Only the burning flames, devouring the paper money, gave off now and then a faint crackle.

Ming Li stood silently where he was, head bowed, saying nothing. How long passed, he could not tell, before Su Wan was heard to sigh and say, "Your master was always one to speak harshly and feel gently. That upheaval ten years ago has weighed on him ever since. He never spoke of it to me, but I could see that in his heart he felt he had wronged you a great deal."

Ming Li's eyes reddened. He shook his head hard and said urgently, "No, it was your disciple who was unworthy, who betrayed my master's kindness. It was your disciple who wronged my master..." By the end his voice had choked.

The corner of Su Wan's mouth trembled faintly. Hearing the tears in Ming Li's voice, she seemed stirred to an old wound of her own, yet for all the pain in her eyes she held it back and shed no tears. Silent, she gazed upon Tian Buhui's face and said softly, "In your master's heart, he never once counted you a disciple driven from the gate. Do you understand?"

Ming Li bowed his head and said in a low voice, "Yes."

Su Wan said, "Since you have owned him as your master again, go over now and burn some paper money for him. Let it stand for what measure of filial devotion you can offer. I daresay Buhui would be glad of it..."

Ming Li clenched his jaw, knelt before Tian Buhui's remains, and bowed three times, tears in his eyes. Then he rose, went to the great iron cauldron, and knelt. The flames in the cauldron had sunk much lower, no doubt because Song Dayi and the others had gone out and no one was feeding the paper money. Ming Li glanced aside and saw not far off several thick stacks of paper money, all new and still sealed.

On Dazhu Peak all were cultivators, and in several hundred years they might not use paper money even once. These things must have been bought at the foot of the mountain when Song Dayi went to make arrangements for the funeral. At the thought Ming Li's heart ached afresh. Silently he reached out, took a stack, broke the seal, and slowly fed it in, three sheets at a time, into the flames.

The firelight slowly brightened again. The flames flickered with a red-gold glow, dancing over the paper money with its thin gold and silver foil, turning each sheet to ash.

Su Wan sat beside Tian Buhui, silently watching the fire rise and fall, tumbling and churning without cease. The firelight was mirrored on Ming Li's face by the cauldron, casting back a light that flickered bright and dim by turns.

She suddenly spoke and asked, "When your master passed, were you at his side?"

Ming Li gave a faint start, then turned himself around. He remained kneeling beside the iron pot, facing Su Wan, and said in a low voice, "Yes."

Su Wan looked at him deeply and said, "After you collapsed yesterday, I tended your wounds and changed your dressings. But I found that within the grievous wound on your chest there was a stroke of Crimson Flame Sword Energy, the kind only your master wielded. It was that which did the worst damage to your meridians. How did this come to be?"

Ming Li's heart gave a violent leap, and unwittingly his palms grew faintly damp. After a moment he said quietly, "This time, the disciple's injuries were indeed dealt by the master's own heavy hand, but..."

Here he faltered, at a loss, not knowing where to begin. That night had brought sudden upheaval, full of strange twists and turns; seasoned as he was in the strife and turmoil of the world, even he had been shaken to the core. And beyond all that, the teacher he had reverenced and loved above all others in his life had met his end there, which made it all the harder to put into words.

Su Wan gave a cold snort, her phoenix eyes kindling with authority, and said icily, "Tell me the truth, from beginning to end."

For a moment Ming Li dared not meet her gaze. He lowered his head, and only after a while did he slowly begin: how that night, returning to the ruins of Liumiao Village, he had chanced upon a mysterious figure; how he had pursued him all the way to the abandoned charity hall outside He Yin's walls; and how, in the end, Tian Buhui had perished. He recounted it all to Su Wan, slowly, piece by piece.

As she listened, Su Wan's face grew paler and paler. When at last she heard the part about Tian Buhui's death, every trace of color drained from her, and she clutched his hand tightly in both of hers, as though terrified that her husband might slip away from her side once more.

At the end, Ming Li said in a low voice, "That is how it happened, Mistress. The disciple would never dare deceive you."

Su Wan's gaze shifted to Tian Buhui and rested long upon that familiar, peaceful face. Perhaps, in her husband's heart, there had not been much remorse at all; perhaps he had simply felt, in his heart of hearts, that these were things he ought to do.

She drew a deep breath and straightened her back. Though in truth she longed only to lie down just so, to lie beside her husband and care for nothing anymore, she knew the time had not yet come.

"You truly saw it clearly..." Su Wan's voice sounded faint and distant.

Ming Li did not understand for a moment. "Mistress, what do you mean?"

Su Wan's face was ashen. She said quietly, "That mysterious man—was it truly the Sect Leader himself... Senior Brother Daoyan?"

Ming Li drew a deep breath and said with finality, "The disciple saw with his own eyes. Even if that man were reduced to flying ash, I would not mistake him."

Su Wan nodded silently. After a moment she asked slowly, "From what you have just said, when Buyi's mind was in final chaos and he struck you down, it was Lu Xueling of Xiaozhu Peak who killed him?"

Ming Li's whole body shook violently, and within moments cold sweat was pouring down his forehead. But in the end he clenched his jaw and said, "Yes!"

Su Wan said nothing, only stared at him blankly, as though lost in thought. Yet under her gaze Ming Li's expression shifted violently, as if he were being tortured. After a long while he said in a low voice, "That... Lu Xueling, she, she was actually trying to save me—no, it was this disciple..." Suddenly his face turned grave. He threw himself prostrate on the ground and said quietly, "Mistress, every fault, every wrong is this disciple's. That Lu Xueling, she..."

Su Wan sighed and cut him off. "I remember among the Canglan Sect disciples, these past years, were you not the closest to her? Even after you entered the demonic path, I heard she still thought of you constantly; for your sake she defied Senior Sister Shuiyue's wishes several times, and even refused the marriage proposal of Valley Master Yun Yifeng of Fenxia Valley. Is that not so?"