Chapter 52 — The Fire Dragon
劍問蒼天 · Page 2 of 7
The three exchanged glances, wariness in every eye, yet even so they did not slow their descent.
In the boundless darkness beneath their feet, something seemed to flicker softly—like starlight, like a flame.
Above the abyss, Zhou Yixuan and his granddaughter Xiaowan had at last, by the light of their torches and with their hearts in their throats, made their way to the cliff edge from which Zhang Qingyue and the others had leaped. Gazing at the precipice that barred their way and the bottomless abyss below, Zhou Yixuan was struck dumb, unable to speak a word.
Xiaowan, being young after all—though she had roamed the world with her grandfather since childhood—could not help feeling afraid in this dark and silent Black Stone Cave. She poked her head over the cliff edge for a look, then immediately drew it back and whispered to Zhou Yixuan, "Grandfather, is there any way for us to get down?"
Zhou Yixuan rolled his eyes a few times and said dejectedly, "We don't know any Daoist arts, and we didn't bring a rope. This is bad."
Xiaowan, however, breathed a sigh of relief and patted her chest, saying, "Thank goodness, thank goodness."
Zhou Yixuan glared at her. "Thank goodness what? There might be mountains of gold and silver, of agate and jade, waiting for us down there! Now we've—we've—we've taken a huge loss!" His voice was full of lamentation.
Xiaowan gave a humph, took the candied hawthorn stick in her right hand, and bit into it. "Mountains of gold and silver indeed. I say it's more likely mountains of corpses and bones waiting for you! All right, since we can't get down, let's be off. Otherwise, if we run into a demon or two, you—the famous thirteenth-generation heir of the Canglan Patriarch—will lose all face for your founder."
Zhou Yixuan flew into a rage. "Nonsense! What sort of man is Zhou Yixuan, that he would lose face for the founder—"
Before the words were out of his mouth, there came from the darkness along the path behind them, in that silent cave, two sharp "swish" sounds—two streaks of light, swift as lightning, which in the blink of an eye landed before the two of them.
Zhou Yixuan cried out in alarm, pulled Xiaowan back, reached into his robe with his right hand, and gripped a yellow paper talisman, about to cast a spell of escape. But the light flickered twice and revealed two figures. The newcomers moved like ghosts; before Zhou Yixuan could even draw out his talisman, there was a crisp "hiss," and something cold pressed against his neck. Every hair on his body stood on end, and he cried out inwardly in dismay.
After a moment's composure, Zhou Yixuan realized the other party had not struck to take his life, but the thing at his neck had not been withdrawn either. Summoning his courage, he looked at the two—a young man and a young woman. The man's face was like fine jade, exceedingly handsome; the woman's face was like a lotus, incomparably beautiful.
Though the two were still a full ten feet from Zhou Yixuan and Xiaowan, the man's raised hand held an artifact shaped like a jade ruler, pure and warm, pressed against Zhou Yixuan's neck, while the beautiful woman simultaneously controlled a cyan immortal sword that held Xiaowan in check. Poor Xiaowan was frightened pale; her right hand still clutched the candied hawthorn stick, and she was already crying aloud: "Demon brother, demon sister, please don't eat me! I'm small and have little meat—I won't taste good. If you must eat someone, eat my grandfather!"
Zhou Yixuan nearly fell to the ground. "Dead girl! I've raised you all these years for nothing! I never could tell before, but the moment life and death are at stake, you'd sell out your own grandfather?"
Xiaowan said tearfully, "Grandfather, don't blame me. After you die, at least I'll still bring you a stick of candied hawthorn now and then—"