Chapter 27 — Self-Esteem
劍問蒼天 · Page 7 of 8
Below the "Kan" platform, most of the Fenghui Peak disciples had gathered, and among them Zhang Qingyue spotted that senior brother surnamed Gao and his lot. Fenghui Peak was one of the great branches of the Canglan Sect, with over two hundred disciples, second only to the Long Peak faction of Jietian Peak and to Long Peak. Plainly the Fenghui Peak crowd had heard something from Zeng Shuyan; every face was relaxed, and they greeted Zhang Qingyue with friendly smiles and nods.
For some reason, Zhang Qingyue suddenly found all those kindly smiles ahead of him detestable—each one a veiled contempt. His face expressionless, he mounted the platform. Behind him, below the platform, everyone stood against him; this time even Zeng Shuyan was absent, for he too had a bout to fight.
But even if he had come, surely he would be cheering for a senior brother of his own branch!
In Zhang Qingyue's heart there suddenly welled a loneliness beyond words. Standing on this high platform, surveying the countless eyes below, he had not a single friend.
Why—why must it always be one man facing all the world, unable to see even one friend!
The sixteen-year-old youth cried out silently in his heart, bit stubbornly at his lip, and bowed his head.
The mountain wind came slowly, brushing past his cheeks.
"Dang!"
The bells and cauldrons near and far rang out almost as one, echoing across the summit of Jietian Peak and carrying far away. Zhang Qingyue's heart skipped; his first thought was: Senior Sister Ling'er must have begun her bout by now—she must not get hurt.
Then his heart ached, and he thought: "Whether she is hurt or not is no business of yours. Never mind that Master and Mistress are there—even that Qi Hao said he would settle his opponent as quick as he could and hurry over. Heh heh, settle his opponent as quick as he could—how magnificent, how confident, treating his foe as though he were nothing at all."
Lost in such thoughts, he quite forgot he himself stood upon a platform, until the opponent facing him called out loudly for the third time: "Junior Brother Zhang!"
Zhang Qingyue started awake and looked up to see that at some point a senior brother of Fenghui Peak had come to stand opposite him—tall and broad, his manner rather gentle, save that now, seeing Zhang Qingyue dazed, his expression had turned somewhat strange in spite of himself.
Zhang Qingyue flushed crimson, and from below the platform came a burst of laughter.
Peng Chang smiled and cupped his hands: "I am Peng Chang, disciple of Fenghui Peak. I ask Junior Brother Zhang to instruct me."
Zhang Qingyue hastily returned the courtesy: "Zhang Qingyue, disciple of Dazhu Peak, greets Senior Brother Peng."
Having exchanged greetings, Peng Chang smiled faintly, looked Zhang Qingyue up and down, then lowered his voice: "Junior Brother Zhang, Junior Brother Zeng has told me all about your affair. I—"
Zhang Qingyue's body trembled, and suddenly, beyond all restraint, the words burst from him: "Senior Brother Peng, please come at me with all you have."
Peng Chang was taken aback. He studied Zhang Qingyue closely; after a long moment he wiped the smile from his face, nodded, and swept his right hand before him. With a ringing "zheng," an immortal sword rose into the air, scattering red light, almost as though wrapped in burning flame.
"This sword is 'Wugou,' forged of thousand-year fire-copper. I ask Junior Brother Zhang to instruct me." For some reason Peng Chang's whole manner had turned grave, his bearing stern, as though he spoke to a formidable foe of equal strength.
Even at that distance, Zhang Qingyue felt the scorching breath strike his face; and this fiery aura was fierce and violent, utterly unlike the gentle righteousness of Chu Yuhong of Chaoyang Peak's Shaoyang immortal sword from the day before—it held a measure of tyranny.