Chapter 138 — Decadence
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 2 of 6
But the youth paid the Shaman-Demon's reaction no mind at all. What he said was less spoken to the Shaman-Demon than murmured低低 to the stone statue itself—for in his eyes, at this moment, there was only the stone image of the Shamaness Linglong.
"You," his voice slowly took on a note of sorrow, of desolation, of indignation, "for what reason, after all?"
The stone statue gave no answer, standing in silent vigil.
"In your heart, are the living creatures of the world, the decrees of Heaven, all so very important?" The youth's voice grew suddenly agitated, rising slowly.
"If you held those things dearer than me, and so had to be rid of me—is that it?" A cold smile rose on the youth's face, strange and faintly bewitching. "But do you know? I don't care at all!"
"What damned will of Heaven, what multitudes under heaven—what are they worth?" His expression grew ever more savage and grief-stricken; yet strangely, frightful as that look was, his features only grew more bewitching and beautiful, scarce like a mortal's.
"You wanted me dead—one word would have sufficed. Do you know that? Do you know?" He roared furiously at the stone statue of the woman, and then, slowly, his voice sank low.
"But why... did you hold those things dearer than yourself—dearer than your own life..."
Slowly, he reached out and gently stroked the face worn rough by countless years of wind and frost, brushing over that gentle visage held deep in memory!
A cold sensation, without a trace of warmth, crept slowly from his palm.
He spread his arms and gently embraced the stone statue, gathering it to his breast, and the youth's expression gradually turned strangely tender. Behind him, the Shaman-Demon stood in silence, watching that uncanny scene.
"I know—it was the living creatures of this world that harmed you." The youth half-closed his eyes and spoke softly as in a dream. "Rest easy. I will make all things under heaven accompany you in death, and then... I will come to you..."
"Wait for me..."
The low voice faded quietly and at last died away. The bewitching youth embraced the cold stone statue; the black-robed Shaman-Demon stood woodenly. Above, a peal of thunder rolled through the dark clouds, and raindrops began to fall from the sky.
The great rain drifted down through the wind, blurring the world into haze. Dimly, the Shaman-Demon stared: the raindrops fell upon the face of the stone woman and slid silently away—
As though they were tears!
Three thousand li east of Mount Canglan, along the ancient road that wound southeast from Mount Kongsang, lay a lonely stretch of wildland—just then in the season when the grass grew tall and the orioles flew.
One day's journey from Little Pond Town stood the He Family Inn, which, as ever, kept its solitary post beside the ancient road, greeting and sending off the travelers who passed. Its proprietor, Boss He, naturally could not remember how many guests he had welcomed and bid farewell; travelers, after all, came in every shape and sort. But over these three days he had slowly grown certain that, old as he was growing, he would surely remember this one guest.
In truth, to call it one guest was not quite accurate. Properly speaking, it was a guest with a peculiar monkey. And for Boss He, the more lasting impression had been made by that monkey—odd-looking, with three eyes.
Three days ago, Boss He had been standing outside his inn by the ancient road, soliciting custom, when he saw this dust-stained man come trudging down the road, a three-eyed monkey perched on his shoulder, his face blank with bewilderment—and somehow the man had looked faintly familiar. He had stepped forward then, intending to spin some flowery pitch and draw the guest inside for a short rest. But he had gotten out only one sentence:
"Honored guest, we have hot tea and fine wine within—won't you step in and rest..."