Chapter 22 — Night
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 2 of 6
Seeing the direction they took, Zhang Qingyue thought it over and recalled that this was where Song Dayi had told him the Jietian Peak kitchen stood. He was torn between annoyance and amusement. Da Huang had been raised by Tian Buhui for who knew how many centuries and counted as an old dog who had attained the Way—and yet here it was, so greedy. He meant to ignore it and go back to sleep, but on second thought: if anyone saw Dazhu Peak's yellow dog and grey monkey stealing food, the disgrace would be past bearing. Better to chase them back.
Having decided, he looked up and saw that Da Huang, with Xiao Hui on its back, was already no more than a blur; he hurried after them.
He ran the whole way, careful not to disturb his fellow disciples in the other rooms. By the time he reached the great square by the sea of clouds, Da Huang and Xiao Hui were long out of sight; under the cold moon the clouds drifted faint and thin here, like gauze, like smoke—a beauty beyond describing.
But after a couple of glances he had no heart to look longer. He turned and scanned about him, on the point of heading for the kitchen, when suddenly his heart gave a heavy thump.
Deep in the sea of clouds, on the side away from the kitchen, amid the drifting mist, there was faintly a slender figure walking forward; judging by the direction, it seemed to be making for the Rainbow Bridge.
Zhang Qingyue stared at the figure, dazed. Far off though it was, that figure was carved deep into his heart, and he knew at a glance that it was his senior sister Tian Lingsu.
The night was so deep!
Why had she come out alone, and where was she going by herself?
Zhang Qingyue stood rooted to the spot, at a loss, a thousand thoughts crowding in on him at once, his heart in a tangle; it was as if he had vaguely guessed something, and yet he would not admit it.
He turned his head and fixed his eyes on the direction of the kitchen, where Da Huang and Xiao Hui had run; he steeled himself and walked that way, telling himself, "Zhang Qingyue, mind your own business! Mind your own business!"
Seven steps he took like that, the moonlight like water, falling on this one youth, making him seem all the more alone. Then he stopped and looked up at the sky, and saw a cold moon hanging at the edge of heaven. His lips seemed to move. A moment later he wheeled about, gritted his teeth, and ran in the direction where that figure had vanished.
Moonlight fell on his running figure, with a desolate tenderness.
In a moment Tian Lingsu's figure had melted into the sea of clouds, but Zhang Qingyue looked nowhere else; he ran straight for the Rainbow Bridge. Soon he was upon it. The mountain wind came, ruffling the streams on either side of the bridge into faint ripples that mirrored the moon overhead—cold and lovely—but Zhang Qingyue paid it no mind and only ran with all his might.
Run, run, run!
He crossed the Rainbow Bridge and still saw no one. Only when he reached the far end did a sudden bewilderment seize him: the cold moonlight made the shore of the jade-green pool at the bridge's end bright as day, and there a beautiful figure stood graceful by the water, gazing at the glimmering surface, lost in thought.
Zhang Qingyue was suddenly afraid—afraid with a fear he could not put a name to; he only knew he must not let his senior sister see him. He glanced about and saw, to the right of the pool near the bridge, a little grove; he slipped quietly over and hid there, watching Tian Lingsu from the shadows.
And that one look seemed to last forever.
Under the moon, by the jade water, the young woman bore a trace of sorrow, a trace of expectation; her brows were lowered, and there seemed a faint light in her eyes, as though she were longing for something—she looked so beautiful. The mountain breeze blew, passing over the water, past her side, and it too held its breath and hushed, gently stirring her hem and her hair against skin white as snow.