Chapter 107 — The Demon Formation
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 5 of 6
Lü Shun's face darkened further. Gritting his teeth, he surged the radiance of his immortal sword and, man and sword as one, rushed into the great hall. In an instant the hall was brightly lit. But just as his figure vanished within, from one side of the ruined walls two dark shadows fled the hall with extraordinary speed, melted into the darkness beyond, and went silent.
After a while, Lü Shun could be heard rummaging through the hall, crashing and clattering for some time, until at last he emerged dejected, clearly having found nothing. He stood on the steps, his face shifting between gloom and calm; after a long while he stamped his foot and sighed, "Enough. Enough."
Shaking his head without cease, he rose on his sword and flew south, vanishing in a moment.
The ancient temple fell quiet at once. The insects that his arrival had frightened into silence began chirping again, and under the cold moon and clear wind the scene was desolate once more.
Yet long after Lü Shun had gone, the temple seemed to have lost its life, still without a stir. Then a moment later, a shrill cry split the air—a crimson sword-glow plunged suddenly from the high clouds, fell with incredible speed into the temple courtyard, wavered, and revealed the figure of Lü Shun.
This return after departure was a trick—a ruse of the empty city. He had feigned retreat, circled back from afar, and hidden in the dark clouds above. Yet even so, no one appeared in the ancient temple. At last dejection showed on Lü Shun's face. He heaved a long sigh, fell silent a moment, then once more rose on his sword and flew south. He was not seen again—this time he had truly gone.
The ancient temple returned once more to stillness, but a moment later two dark shadows shifted, and two figures slowly emerged.
The foremost walked slowly into the courtyard. Moonlight like water poured down coldly, stretching a long slender shadow of him across the broken bluestone slabs.
It was Mingli.
He raised his head and looked at the moon.
The moonlight shone cold and clear upon his face.
Suddenly, he looked as if touched by the weariness of years.
Even the monkey Xiao Hui, perched on his shoulder, seemed silent now, lifting its head quietly to gaze at the moon as its master did.
"What is it? Does the young master fancy this southern moonlight?" Suddenly another figure, slender and still hidden in the shadows behind him, spoke in a voice pleasant and soft that reached his ear.
Mingli slowly withdrew his gaze, but did not turn his head, nor answer the woman in the shadows. Instead he asked, "Why did you kill that fish-man?"
The woman, still cloaked in shadow, gave a light laugh. "Those fish-men harmed not only the young master's men, but my subordinates as well. I did it to vent your anger for you."
Mingli's expression did not change in the slightest; clearly he did not believe a word of it. He said mildly, "I have long heard that the Purple Radiance Blade is a divine weapon of the Nine Heavens. Today, wielded in your hands, it truly possesses power beyond the reckoning of gods and ghosts."
The woman laughed softly, her voice sweet and lovely, and in that bleak night it seemed suddenly to add a touch of color, to come alive.
Footsteps sounded softly, and she slowly stepped out from the shadows.
It was none other than Jin Pingyue of the Heretic Sect's Soul-Bewildering Faction, known to all as "Young Master Miao." Bathed in the moonlight, she still wore her pale yellow gown, its soft collar stirring gently in the night wind, while a few fine strands of hair hung loose at her temples—slightly disheveled, yet somehow all the more subtly alluring.
A deep mountain, an ancient temple—a cold night, a beautiful woman!
At this moment her eyes were brimming like water, and between her brows seemed to lie a landscape of spring, of a purity beyond all comparison. For a while, even the night itself seemed to have turned gentle.
Ming Li turned and let his gaze rest upon her face.