Chapter 27 — Self-Esteem
劍問蒼天 · Page 4 of 8
Tian Lingsu said carelessly, "It doesn't matter, Xiaofan. Father and Mother both said they'd come watch my match. And besides—" She cast Qi Hao a tender look and went on, "Senior Brother Qi will be watching too. With his profound cultivation and his guidance, I definitely won't lose."
Qi Hao laughed from a distance. "Now that I can't promise."
Tian Lingsu turned back and shot him a glare, then couldn't help laughing outright. Her jade-white skin outshone the frost and surpassed the snow, faintly tinged with a delicate pink, radiant beyond measure—it nearly made a person stare and forget themselves.
But Zeng Shuyan, standing to one side, clearly saw Zhang Qingyue's eyes and face darken in an instant, until scarcely a trace of life remained in them. He could not help frowning.
Night had deepened, and the cold moon hung high in the sky.
Above the sea of clouds, not a sound stirred. A solitary figure wandered in the cold moonlight, drifting through the faint, ethereal mist, walking on and on with no destination.
Without realizing it, he had walked onto the Rainbow Bridge and come again to the edge of that bay of jade-green water. The surface was like a mirror, not a ripple stirring, mirroring the stars scattered across the sky as though they had all fallen into the water.
A fine hour, a fine scene—beauty beyond all telling.
Yet this man seemed to notice none of it. He stood blankly at the water's edge, gazing at the surface, as though recalling something. After a long while his body suddenly shuddered, his hands clenched tight—he looked in great pain.
Then he slowly turned his head toward a patch of dark woods beside the Rainbow Bridge and walked slowly toward it.
Moonlight fell on Zhang Qingyue's face, and there was something desolate in it.
Should he stand forever in this dark corner, quietly watching others' happiness while tasting his own pain?
From somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of footsteps approached.
The darkness lay quietly in ambush among these woods.
"It's so late—why has the master summoned us?" As the voice sounded, six figures appeared. Zhang Qingyue, hidden in the shadows, was badly startled: these were the six peak masters of Canglan Mountain aside from the Jietian Peak, and Tian Buhui was among them. The one speaking was Shang Zhenglian, master of the Zhaoyang Peak.
Cangyan Daoren, walking at the front, said, "I hear our master has already tested the Spirit Venerable today with the spirit-communication art. I fear something has been discovered. He wants us to go discuss it."
The "Spirit Venerable," the water qilin, was the guardian spirit beast of the Canglan sect, a matter of immense consequence. At this, everyone fell silent, their faces grave, and after a moment they had walked far off.
Only after these exalted personages had been gone a long while did Zhang Qingyue dare to come out from the woods. He glanced instinctively at the jade-green pool: the water was calm as ever. The Spirit Venerable had evidently long since gone to sleep in the water.
He raised his head and stared blankly at the cold moon, about to go back, when his hand reached into his robe and drew out that black rod of dark iron. Zeng Shuyan's words that day had shaken him deeply and left him full of doubt and alarm—yet at this moment no other thought remained in his mind. Only the image of Senior Sister Ling'er standing beside Qi Hao, so well matched, floated before him.
His heart had been pierced as though by needles all this while, and by now it had gone numb, hollow and empty, as if his three souls and seven spirits had all scattered away.
Slowly he raised the dark iron rod. Beneath its dark blue-green surface, fine blood-red threads were clearly visible, like capillaries, spread all across the rod, even into the pearl at its tip.
Is this my blood?