Chapter 86 — King's Village
劍問蒼天 · Page 2 of 7
The Ghost King smiled at the young man before him, as though looking at a flawless and precious object fashioned by his own hands, and in that joy there lingered a faint note of pride. "Not entirely," he said. "What I passed to you still depended on your own comprehension. Your progress these years has been far beyond what I expected. I thought that with your gifts you would need at least thirty years of cultivation, yet in only ten you have achieved mastery. Rare, rare indeed!"
Praised thus by the Ghost King, Ming Li seemed to show no smile, as though this were nothing worth rejoicing over.
The Ghost King did not mind. Over these years the man before him had changed from the Zhang Qingyue of old into the Ming Li of today, and his temper had been turned utterly upside down; apart from his face, scarcely a shadow of the youth remained. He paused, then said, "So in your view, since the four great houses of our holy sect cannot avoid a bloody struggle, would you have us strike first, or wait quietly?"
This time Ming Li did not hesitate in the least. "Strike first!"
The Ghost King fixed him with a stare. "Good! Then which house would you deal with first?"
Ming Li said, "The Longevity Hall!"
The Ghost King knit his brows, but there was already approval in his eyes. "Why?"
Ming Li said, "At present the Ghost King Faction and the Ten Thousand Poison Sect are strongest; the Soul-Bewitching Faction and the Longevity Hall are somewhat below them. The Soul-Bewitching Faction has always kept a low profile, but the Longevity Hall's master, Yu Yangzi, is a man of high cultivation yet eaten up with arrogance. He has always styled himself the presiding figure of the great war between righteous and demon at Mount Canglan, and believes that among the demon cult he alone stands supreme. Such a fool—who else should we choose?"
The Ghost King smiled faintly. "True, well said. And if you were to direct it, how would you proceed?"
Ming Li considered briefly, then said, "Now is the perfect chance. A rare treasure has appeared in the Deathmoor, and Yu Yangzi will surely regard it as already in his pocket, and will never suffer an outsider to touch it. But the righteous are pouring in. We can wait until the Longevity Hall and the righteous forces burn each other, and when both are broken, secretly join with the Ten Thousand Poison Sect and the Soul-Bewitching Faction and strike together. To drop stones on a man already down the well—they will never refuse. One battle, and we are certain to succeed."
The Ghost King looked at him and said nothing.
Ming Li slowly raised his head and looked at the Ghost King. "What is it?" he said flatly.
The Ghost King seemed to have been staring at him somewhat absently; after a moment he came to himself and slowly drew back his gaze, as though sighing somewhere deep within. "Nothing," he said mildly. "What you have said is almost exactly what I had thought."
Ming Li said no more.
The Ghost King smiled faintly. "Rest two more days, then go to the Deathmoor." With that he drew from his breast a sealed envelope and handed it to Ming Li. "The specific arrangements I have written out clearly in this letter. Once you reach the great marsh, every man of the Ghost King Faction is under your command."
Ming Li slowly took the letter and put it away in his breast. After a moment's silence he nodded to the Ghost King and turned to go. But he had taken only a few steps when he heard the Ghost King's voice behind him: "There is one more thing..."
Ming Li stopped.
The Ghost King's voice drifted to him. "When you speak with me, why do you still call our holy sect the 'demon cult,' every time?"
Ming Li was silent a long while. Then he said coldly, "I have been in this sect ten years. Here it is war and bloodshed every day, deceit and scheming at every hour. How does it deserve the word holy?"
The Ghost King laughed aloud, then said, "Oh? And the righteous path you came from—how is it there?"