Chapter 15 — Divine Power
劍問蒼天 · Page 5 of 6
A faint smile touched Zhang Qingyue's lips. He walked to the table and sat down. His chest still throbbed with a dull ache, but his mind was full of the strange and wondrous arts he had seen Tian Buhui and the others employ in their duel. His heart yearned after them, and he could not help sighing.
"Why the sigh, all of a sudden?" came a gentle, even voice from the doorway.
Zhang Qingyue started and turned. It was his mistress Su Wan, standing in the doorway. The night breeze stirred, setting her garments dancing and her hair drifting, so that she looked like a fairy. He rose hurriedly. "Mistress."
Su Wan came to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right," she said with a smile. "Sit."
Zhang Qingyue was overwhelmed by the favor, and did not dare disobey. He sat. Su Wan studied his face closely, then reached out to feel his chest, nodded, and said, "Good, it's nothing serious." With that she drew from her bosom a small white bottle and tipped out a yellow, glistening pill the size of a fingertip. She handed it to him. "Take it."
Zhang Qingyue hesitated a moment, then took it and swallowed. In a short while he felt a warmth rise first from his dantian, then spread to his limbs and the crown of his head. His whole body grew pleasantly warm, and even the faint ache in his chest vanished.
Zhang Qingyue was both startled and delighted. He stood and moved about a little—sure enough, all was as before. The miraculous efficacy of the elixir was beyond belief. Overjoyed, he hastened to say to Su Wan, "Thank you, Mistress."
Su Wan nodded with a smile, put away the bottle, and seated herself in another chair. "Don't thank me. It was your master who told me to bring you a Great Yellow Pill."
Zhang Qingyue was taken aback. "Master doesn't blame me anymore?"
Su Wan glanced at him and smiled. "He told me to come see you. Naturally that means he doesn't blame you. But I don't know whether you blame him?"
Zhang Qingyue was alarmed. "Not at all, Mistress, I would never dare..."
Su Wan raised a hand to check him. "Xiaofan, listen to me for a moment, will you?"
Zhang Qingyue's heart gave an inexplicable lurch. "Yes, Mistress," he said in a low voice.
"Your master striking you today—that was indeed his fault. I was watching from the side, and I saw clearly that he regretted it the moment he acted. It's only his temper..."
A faint tenderness lay upon her gentle face. "It's only that he has always been proud, and cares greatly for face. So even if he feels regret in his heart, he will never say so. Don't hold it against him."
Zhang Qingyue shook his head. "Mistress, I would never dare blame Master. I only blame myself for being too stupid and making Master angry."
Su Wan looked at him and sighed softly. "In truth, it is not really your doing. Cultivating the Dao depends upon each person's natural gifts. Diligence may make up for dullness, but in the end there remains a gap. Your master understands this in his heart—and it is not this that troubles him."
Zhang Qingyue asked in surprise, "Then what troubles Master?"
Su Wan smiled faintly, a trace of helplessness in her brow. "Talents like Qi Hao and Lin Jinghong are the kind one may meet but cannot seek out. Yet in the Canglan Sect today, the Dazhu Peak line dwindles day by day. Your master's cultivation is high, but he is constantly mocked by his fellow martial uncles for the disciples under his line. He is proud by nature, and it pains him deeply. And he fears that after he ascends as an immortal, the Dazhu Peak line may never rise again—which would leave him all the more ashamed before the ancestral masters. All this heavy burden rests on his shoulders alone, and in his heart he is truly bitter."
Zhang Qingyue was silent. Su Wan came to herself, shook her head with a bitter smile, and said, "Really, what am I saying all this to a fourteen-year-old boy for?" She rose and patted his shoulder. "Rest early."
Zhang Qingyue answered, "Yes, Mistress. Take care on your way."