劍問蒼天 - 第32章 正道 - 清風書屋

Da Huang lay sprawled on the ground, eyes half shut, giving his tail a lazy wag now and then. Xiao Hui the monkey, meanwhile, was draped across his bed, its bright eyes fixed straight on Zhang Qingyue's haggard face. Zhang Qingyue glared at it and snapped, "What are you staring at?"

Naturally Xiao Hui had no human words to answer him with, but it gave two little squeaks. Judging by that monkey face of his, the master's injury had brought not the slightest worry—rather, there seemed to be a good deal of gloating in it.

Zhang Qingyue felt a stir of irritation and said impatiently, "Go on, go on, go on—get out of the way!"

Just then footsteps sounded. Before the visitor could enter, Zhang Qingyue had already heard them, and he called out with a smile, "Sixth Senior Brother, how is it you're bringing my meal so early today—"

His voice broke off abruptly. Tian Buhui's short, stout frame was slowly pacing in through the doorway. Zhang Qingyue was startled; in all these days, Su Wan had told him only to rest and recover in peace, and his other senior brothers—Tian Lingsu among them—had come to see him but once. The rest of the time it had been only Du Biyan bringing his three meals, and he had never imagined Tian Buhui would suddenly appear.

He sat blankly on the bed a moment, then suddenly came to himself and scrambled up, about to kneel and pay his respects. Tian Buhui, his mind clearly heavy with something, his expression shifting between light and dark, waved a hand. "Enough."

Zhang Qingyue murmured his assent, rose, and stood to one side, watching Tian Buhui walk over and seat himself at the table. He did not dare draw a single deep breath.

Tian Buhui glanced at his disciple. From that reaction just now, there was no telling how this youngest disciple could possibly be some extraordinary talent with brocade hidden in his breast—in fact, he seemed rather less than an ordinary person. And yet, of all things—

Tian Buhui shook his head, sighed, and said, "Old Seven, come over and sit down."

Zhang Qingyue was startled again. Tian Buhui had always been stern with him, never showing him a kind face; that he should be so gentle today only made Zhang Qingyue doubt his own ears.

Tian Buhui waited a moment, but seeing Zhang Qingyue only staring at him in alarm and bewilderment, as though he still had not taken it in, felt another surge of anger and said with a touch of ire, "Must I invite you to sit?"

There was such authority in that scolding that Zhang Qingyue instantly recognized his master's old sternness, and to his own surprise reacted at once, sitting down obediently.

At the sight of him, Tian Buhui was rather taken aback. He looked at him once more, then gave a bitter laugh, shook his head, and said, "How is your body?"

Zhang Qingyue answered respectfully, "Reporting to Master: since I returned from Jietian Peak, thanks to your and Mistress's healing and the care of my senior brothers, I am more or less recovered."

Tian Buhui regarded him and said mildly, "It has been more than a month since the Seven Branches Tournament. It seems you are nearly well. I have a few questions I want to ask you now."

Zhang Qingyue's heart sank. He had a vague sense that the thing he had always feared had come at last, but with it before his eyes he could only say, "Yes, Master, please ask."

Tian Buhui said slowly, "That black staff of yours—where did it come from?"

Zhang Qingyue's heart gave a leap, and he could not help looking at Tian Buhui, who was staring right back at him. His face still wore its usual flat expression, but his eyes were bright and piercing, so that he was fearsome without any show of anger.

In that instant a thousand thoughts whirled through his mind, and for a time he could not make a sound. Tian Buhui's face slowly darkened, his expression turning exceedingly grim, and he said again in a low voice, "Speak!"