Chapter 59 — Malice
劍問蒼天 · Page 3 of 8
Tian Lingsu was beside herself with rage. Her face, usually white as snow, flushed bright red. She said no more, but raised the amber-red silk into the wind, and it flew at the Wild Wolf Daoist like lightning once more.
Terrified, Wild Dog clutched his head and ran. When the demon cultists saw him fleeing back, a chorus of jeers went up—and then, no one knew who started it, but with a series of whooshes they rose on cloud and mist and flew away one after another, not a single one staying to help.
In the blink of an eye, only the Blood Refining Hall crowd remained on the field. Elder Nian watched, his face grim, his heart bitter, but in the end he knew this was no place to linger. His Crimson Demon Eye flared red again and again, forcing Fazhong back several yards; then he sprang free, beckoned to his people, and fled as well.
Tian Lingsu would have given chase, but her father's clear voice came from behind: "Ling'er, let them go."
Tian Lingsu stopped dead in her tracks, her face still flushed, and turned to Tian Buhui. "Father, you heard what that demon said—"
Tian Buhui only smiled. Su Wan stepped forward and drew her aside, saying gently, "Those demon cultists will stoop to any wickedness—what is a little coarse talk? We need only pretend we did not hear it."
At this, most of the righteous cultivators chimed in. "Just so, just so," they said.
"Miss Tian need not take it to heart."
Only then did Tian Lingsu subside, still sulking. Seeing the demon cultists scattered, most of the righteous cultivators dispersed as well. These days they fought the demon cultists like this constantly—fought, scattered, scattered, and fought again.
Zhang Qingyue was just about to go speak with Senior Sister Ling'er when someone clapped him on the shoulder. He turned, and for an instant he was stunned—then his face lit with joy. There stood Lin Jinghong behind him, beaming. It had been so long since they had met. In his white robes, with the Slaying Dragon Sword slung across his back, with his sword-shaped brows and star-bright eyes, handsome and elegant, he truly stood out from the crowd.
This, in fact, was the first time Zhang Qingyue had seen his childhood playmate since the great Seven Peaks Tournament. In these days of wandering the jianghu, at every moment of life and death, Lin Jinghong's figure had not failed to flit through his mind.
Lin Jinghong looked at him for a long while, his face first joyful, then overcome. Suddenly he rushed forward and seized Zhang Qingyue in an embrace, holding him tight and refusing to let go, and only after a long time did he release him. Zhang Qingyue was just as moved, and he saw that there seemed to be tears glinting in Lin Jinghong's eyes.
"Xiaofan!" Lin Jinghong's voice caught as he spoke, and the hand gripping Zhang Qingyue's shoulder tightened until it almost hurt.
But Zhang Qingyue paid it no mind. Seeing Lin Jinghong, it was as though all the fear and despair he had known on the edge of death these past days could be understood by this brother alone. Only before this brother could he truly relax.
Lin Jinghong held him tightly and said in a low voice, "Xiaofan, I—I—I thought I'd never see you again..." Here his emotions overcame him, his lips trembling slightly, and he could not go on.
"I—me too," Zhang Qingyue said, gazing back at him. A moment later the two suddenly smiled at each other and let out a long breath.
"It's good to have you back. We'll sweep away the demon cult together yet, and take our revenge together!" Lin Jinghong said, gripping Zhang Qingyue's shoulder and smiling.
"Right," Zhang Qingyue said with a solemn nod.