Chapter 116 — Tianshui Stockade
劍問蒼天 · Page 1 of 6
He wondered whether the sky over the southern borderlands was always this overcast at this time of year. After emerging from that little hill, the two of them and the monkey, guided by Xiaobai, headed west of the Fénxiá Valley.
That night, the volcano in the Black Fire Altar of the Fénxiá Valley had erupted, shaking heaven and earth with tremendous force, and the disturbance had been felt for a hundred li around. Several days later, the great hole torn in the gloomy southern sky by the molten rock that had shot searing into the heavens was gone, yet a vast patch of cloud still hung in the sky above the Fénxiá Valley, tinged a scorched reddish-yellow—an eerie sight.
Such a cataclysm of heaven and earth would have drawn notice in any case; that it had occurred within the ever-discreet and mysterious Fénxiá Valley, and in a place of such standing among the orthodox cultivators of the Dao, made the whole world turn its eyes.
For a time rumors flew across the realm, all speculating as to what on earth had happened in the Fénxiá Valley.
Within mere days, on the once placid wilds of the southern borderlands, strangers began to gather—countless public and hidden factions and personages, openly or covertly probing into what had happened.
Such a state of affairs was naturally far from welcome to the Fénxiá Valley; on the contrary, for reasons known to none, the Fénxiá Valley was furious about it.
On one hand, the valley received the disciples sent by the great orthodox sects—the Canglan Gate, the Brahma Sound Temple, and others—with genial courtesy, plying them with fine tea and good water, and at the end fobbing them off with a tale of natural disaster. On the other hand, toward the covert probings of the three great factions of the demon cult, the Fénxiá Valley showed no mercy within its own sphere of influence; for a time, across the wide lands of the southern borderlands centered on the valley, the glint of blades and swords flickered without cease.
Yet whether orthodox or demon cult, all sensed faintly that beneath the valley's aura of mystery lurked something unusual. This time the valley seemed to have been dealt a tremendous shock; nearly every disciple in the valley had been mobilized, searching day and night without rest across the southern borderlands. As for whom or what they sought, that they kept veiled and unspoken.
After several days, the gloomy sky over the southern borderlands had grown lively; dazzling, beautiful beams of light were often seen streaking across the heavens—outstanding disciples of the Fénxiá Valley in pursuit of something.
And with them, rumors rose in swarms.
A rare beast had emerged, some said; or a mysterious treasure had burst from the volcano's mouth into the sky—such tales, in endless variety.
More absurd still, some told with relish of internal strife within the Fénxiá Valley, of renegade disciples who had slain the valley master, Yun Yifeng. And as if to confirm it, Yun Yifeng indeed did not appear for several days. In the end the rumor grew so strident that within days it reached Daoist Yanyan of the Canglan Gate and Master Pucheng of the Brahma Sound Temple, who jointly sent disciples hurrying to the Fénxiá Valley to inquire. The valley, caught between laughter and tears, could only explain that the valley master was in secluded cultivation and could not appear.
When definite word came back, the Canglan Gate and the Brahma Sound Temple were set at ease—but the heads of these two great sects were men of no ordinary caliber; how could they fail to guess that something fishy lay behind it all? They secretly ordered their messenger disciples not to hurry back to the mountain, but to probe in secret on the spot.