Chapter 48 — The Town
劍問蒼天 · Page 5 of 9
In truth, had he ridden the dark iron rod through the air, he would have been far quicker, but for some reason he had no such intention. His heart felt perpetually stifled, the same questions ever tangling in his mind, and he preferred to go slowly, hoping to think his doubts through to the end.
Yet if it came to that, how could the questions in Zhang Qingyue's heart be resolved by a youth like him? However he racked his brains, he could only feel that the teachings of his sect were sacred beyond question, that things were so by nature and could never be wrong; yet when he thought again on Wan Ren Gui's words, they seemed to hold some truth as well. Unable to choose between them, he was truly bewildered.
Had it been anyone else—his sixth senior brother, Du Biyan, say—he would have given a sly laugh and tossed the matter aside: I am a disciple of the Canglan Sect, so naturally I heed the Canglan Sect. And had it been his eldest senior brother, Song Dayi, whose nature was strict, he would have rejected out of hand these so-called heresies and would not even have entertained the thought.
It was Zhang Qingyue alone, stubborn beyond all others to the bone, who had run into a question that all but challenged every belief he had ever held, and who now wished to think it through and find the answer.
And so he buried himself in thought and walked three whole days, and still could make nothing of it.
One day Zhang Qingyue suddenly felt the travelers on the road grow more numerous. He looked ahead and saw at the end of the ancient road a small town. It did not look large, but being on this road, it seemed to have no small number of people.
Zhang Qingyue's heart lifted, and he forgot his troubles for a while. For three days there had been scarcely a soul on the road, and the sight of such a town heartened him.
Drawing near, he saw a stone tablet standing by the roadside at the town's entrance, carved with the three characters "Xiaochi Town"—doubtless the name of the place.
Zhang Qingyue strolled in. The voices of the crowd gradually swelled; the ancient road ran straight through the town, lined with houses and eaves and a few shops, but more numerous still were the peddlers who had set up stalls right along both sides of the road. As he walked along the street, the cries of hawkers filled his ears—a veritable scroll of worldly life.
Walking among the crowd, Zhang Qingyue slowly let a smile show at the corners of his mouth. When he was small and still living in Liumiao Village, he vaguely remembered it had looked much like this. The smoke and fire of the human world, set against the years of cultivation on Canglan Mountain, seemed to leave a flavor of its own in his heart.
"Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang..."
Just as Zhang Qingyue was still lost in memories of the past, a thunderous clangor of gongs suddenly came from the street ahead, giving him a start. Then he saw the townsfolk all quickening their steps and rushing toward a spot ahead, and among them he caught a few talking as they walked: "Hurry, the town chief has called everyone to gather—he is going to speak."
"I'll bet it's about that business."
"Aye. They say last night the town chief talked with Headman Li and Scholar Fan the whole night through. I wonder if they came up with any plan?"
"Let's hope so. Otherwise there'll be no living through these days!"
...
Hearing this, Zhang Qingyue's curiosity was roused, and he followed the flow of people forward. The crowd gathered from all sides, and before long two or three hundred people had encircled a stone platform at the center of the town.
Zhang Qingyue stood in the crowd and looked toward the middle. The stone platform was about half a man's height and looked fairly smooth, and upon it stood three men—two old, one young—doubtless the town chief, Headman Li, and Scholar Fan he had just heard of.