Chapter 39 — The Abyss
劍問蒼天 · Page 4 of 6
Zhang Qingyue's heart suddenly gave a leap. He saw that Lu Xueqi's face had in that instant grown paler still, till scarcely a trace of color remained, and he could not help saying, "Senior Sister, you did win that time! And besides, I've heard that if you hadn't been so drained of vital energy from your match with me, you might not necessarily have lost to Senior Brother Qi Hao in the final..."
The more he spoke, the softer his voice grew, until at last it faded into silence — for Lu Xueqi had quietly raised her head and was looking at him coldly, and it made him unable to go on. The pale ghostly light shone on the two of them.
Lu Xueqi lowered her head again, drew a deep breath, and said, "How did we manage to escape with our lives?"
Zhang Qingyue was taken aback, and he too was rather puzzled. "I don't know." Then something occurred to him, and he pointed toward the water's edge. "But when I first came to, we were both lying there by the water. Could it be that we were lucky enough to fall into the water and so not die, and then the tide washed us ashore?"
Lu Xueqi looked where he pointed. Against the pale ghostly light of the yin spirits she could indeed see water in the distance, and faintly hear the soft "shush, shush" of the tide washing the bank. As for herself, though her clothes were mostly dry, they were still somewhat damp, clinging to her body and bitterly cold. It was easy to imagine that if Zhang Qingyue had not dragged her ashore, she would have frozen to death before ever waking.
"Thank you," Lu Xueqi said suddenly, in a low voice.
Zhang Qingyue was taken aback; he hastily waved his hand and laughed. "It's nothing, it's nothing—"
Suddenly, both of them froze.
Between the two of them, between their two hands, they were still, even now, tightly clasped.
As though flesh and blood were joined; as though it had been so for years; as though there were not the slightest awareness of it — as though it should have been so, as though both of them had forgotten!
Lu Xueqi slowly drew back her hand. Zhang Qingyue gave an embarrassed laugh, his hand swinging this way and that at his side, not knowing where to put it.
After a moment, it was Lu Xueqi who spoke. "Before you fell, you took a heavy blow from those devil-cult fiends. How do you feel now?"
Zhang Qingyue felt as though he had been granted a great pardon; hearing that this frosty woman seemed not to blame him, he said hastily, "Fine, fine."
Lu Xueqi said, "Can you still fly your sword?"
Zhang Qingyue circulated his qi a little, and at once felt a stabbing pain within him as though pierced by needles. He smiled bitterly and shook his head.
Lu Xueqi glanced at him and said, "Nor can I. Let us get up and search the surroundings, and see whether there is a way out. Otherwise, if we sit here waiting, surrounded by all these yin spirits, sooner or later they will drain us into dried husks."
Zhang Qingyue drew in a sharp breath and nodded. "Yes."
Lu Xueqi rose to her feet and examined herself all over. There were no great external wounds, but within, her channels and vital blood were somewhat disordered, and her whole body was weak — it seemed the backlash from that clash with the Mountain-and-River Fan had simply been too violent. And what concerned her most, the Heaven's Dipper Divine Sword, now hung whole and sound once more in the scabbard at her back.
She turned and glanced again at Zhang Qingyue. He had risen somewhat laboriously, his movements still not very nimble, plainly still troubled by his wounds; and she knew, too, how much spirit and strength it must have cost him just now to drag her out of the water.
"To what level have you cultivated the Supreme Ultimate Mystic Purity Way?" Lu Xueqi asked Zhang Qingyue abruptly.