Chapter 122 — The Altar
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 7 of 7
"You orthodox and demonic sects of the Central Plains—to a wild man of these borderlands like me, there is no difference between them, no stake in the matter. You need not worry on that account."
Ming Li was overjoyed and was about to say something when the Great Shaman went on: "That wondrous art of restoring souls you speak of—I do know a little of it. But whether I can save your friend, of that I am not certain…"
Ming Li's heart quivered, and his eyes grew hot. After ten years, here and now at last, amid layer upon layer of darkness, he had glimpsed a faint glimmer of hope.
Only, the Great Shaman's voice was still going on: "But before that, I have one question, and you must answer me first."
Ming Li nodded again and again. "Great Shaman, pray speak."
The Great Shaman said slowly, "Who told you that the Great Shaman of the Miao altar is heir to this wondrous art of restoring souls?"
At these words Ming Li was taken aback, and instinctively turned to look at Xiaobai. He saw that at some point she had gone limp and slid down from his shoulder, her head pillowed on his thigh, a faint smile at the corner of her mouth, sleeping sweetly.
Ming Li had been wholly absorbed in speaking with the Great Shaman and had not noticed her at all.
And now, casting his gaze a little farther, he saw that the monkey Xiaohui's face was flushed red as well—those two remaining skins of strong liquor, it seemed, had been drunk down by him sip after sip. At this moment he leaned against Xiaobai, his monkey head pillowed on her belly, his four limbs splayed out, lying flat on the ground, his belly rising and falling as he snored loudly in deep sleep.
Ming Li turned back to face the Great Shaman's back and for a moment did not know what to say. He shook his head and gave a bitter smile.