Chapter 105 — Sword Dance
劍問蒼天 · Page 4 of 5
Dao Yan Zhenren let out a long breath, turned, and no longer looked at Lin Jinghong outside the door. He walked to the altar before which the spirit tablets of the countless masters of the Canglan Sect were enshrined, gazed at them awhile in silence, then said quietly, "I never imagined the backlash of the Immortal-Slaying Sword would be so terrible!"
The old man came slowly over, took up a rag, and began gently wiping the heavy offering table. "The Immortal-Slaying Sword is fearsome enough in its own right," he said as he worked, "and with the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation besides, it is enough to defy heaven itself. Such a baleful thing runs utterly counter to the will of heaven; you should have known as much when you chose to wield the ancient Immortal-Slaying Sword."
Dao Yan Zhenren said mildly, "Of course I knew. Upon the stone stele in the Phantom Moon Grotto, from Patriarch Qingye onward, every master of every generation has left a stern command: save in the direst extremity, this sword must never be used!"
The old man wiped the table slowly, very slowly, as though he had been wiping it this way for many years, and that was why he was so intent upon it. His eyes on the table, he suddenly smiled and said, "In truth, I have thought before that if you wielded the ancient Immortal-Slaying Sword a few more times, perhaps you might die sooner than I do."
Dao Yan Zhenren gazed at the old man's stooped back, and his pupils suddenly contracted. After a moment he slowly turned and walked outward.
"You are leaving?" The old man's rather desolate voice came from behind him.
Dao Yan Zhenren halted, but did not turn back. After a moment his voice drifted slowly back to the old man: "Do you remember what I said to you when I saved your life?"
The old man stood in the dark shadow and gave no answer.
Dao Yan Zhenren did not turn back either. An eerie atmosphere seemed to drift through the Ancestral Hall; after a long pause, Dao Yan Zhenren's voice came mildly: "I saved you because I owed you—but I will not let you live longer than I do!"
The old man's body had already faded into the shadow, utterly motionless. Dao Yan Zhenren then walked out and left the Ancestral Hall.
Lin Jinghong was waiting patiently outside when he suddenly saw the sect leader himself come out of the Ancestral Hall. Startled, he made haste to pay his respects. Dao Yan Zhenren glanced at him; something strange seemed to flash in his eyes, and then he nodded and departed.
Lin Jinghong watched the sect leader go. Somehow, from the very moment Dao Yan Zhenren had emerged from the Ancestral Hall, he had felt that the sect leader's face looked strangely pale.
As he was pondering this, the old man's voice came slowly from within the hall: "Is that Jingyu? Come in."
Lin Jinghong answered at once and stepped into the Ancestral Hall.
The moment he entered, Lin Jinghong felt a chill run through him, and the surroundings darkened as well. He could not help frowning. For ten years he had followed this mysterious old man in tending the Ancestral Hall, and from the very first day he came he had found the place very strange: at all hours it gave off a dim, gloomy feeling. Yet it was not wholly dark; rather, before the spirit tablets of the ancestral masters many incense candles were lit and kept burning. But the faint glow of those dim candle flames seemed only to set off the deeper gloom of the place, and could not rid the great hall of its dark and even ghastly atmosphere.
But after all he had lived here ten years, and his admiration for the old man standing in the shadows was profound; he had long since stopped minding the hall's strangeness. So now he bowed respectfully to the old man's figure and said, "Senior, your disciple has returned."