Chapter 144 — A Chance Encounter
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 5 of 8
Mingli did not answer. His figure, moving forward, went from slow to swift. Little Gray, perched on his shoulder, turned its head and, looking back at little Wan, who stood staring blankly from the hilltop, grinned and raised a hand to wave.
Little Wan watched that figure dwindle swiftly and vanish, and for some reason she could not name, she suddenly felt an emptiness inside her, and her nose stung, and she came near to weeping.
"Sss!"
A faint whistle of air being split, and Mingli's figure streaked across the night sky. The clouds overhead hung heavy and low, not a single glimmer of starlight to be seen; it seemed even the vault of heaven had been touched by that southern calamity, and hung dark and gloomy, offering no hope to anyone.
Having left Zhou Yixuan and the others, Mingli flew south alone for a time. Yet in that night sky, beneath those clouds, he saw only that on every side lay a land of gloom and darkness; beneath the vault of heaven the wilds stretched into linked mountains, cold and desolate, and there in the air he too felt utterly empty, not knowing where it was best to go.
Little Gray, crouched on his shoulder, suddenly called out twice again. Mingli glanced at it, and saw the three eyes before him, Little Gray grinning—for it, most of the time seemed to be happy. A rare trace of a smile and of tenderness crossed Mingli's face; he stroked the monkey's head lightly, and his figure sank as he descended toward the ground.
The place he alighted was a wild high mountain thick with dense forest. The trees and brush grew so rank, the undergrowth so tangled, that there was scarcely room in the woods to set a foot; surely no one had ever come to this mountain or this forest in all this desolate waste. Mingli's face was calm as he landed among the trees. Before his feet touched ground, his right hand flicked, and the Soul-Devouring Demon Staff flew from his sleeve and circled once beneath him. No strange sound was heard, but in the space of a breath every tree, shrub, and thorn within six feet of him withered away and turned to dead branches.
As the Soul-Devouring Staff flew back to his hand, Mingli clearly felt threads of fine, icy breath coursing through the black shaft. Little Gray gave a delighted cry, leaped down from his shoulder, and ran off into the depths of the forest. Mingli raised his eyes to the monkey's receding back. Ever since that journey to the southern frontier—and especially since Little Gray's transformation—its appetite had begun to swell alarmingly, and it thought of nothing but food.
The night was deep. The night wind blew in from the open wilds, swept over this mountain forest, and the woods gave forth a sound like rolling waves as countless shadows swayed together. Mingli slowly sat down on the ground and slowly closed his eyes. The shadows of the trees swept across his face; in the darkness he was like a silent, spectral spirit.
How long passed, he did not know. From somewhere far off came a faint low growl, then it vanished without a trace. Mingli frowned slightly and opened his eyes, but did not move. Sure enough, a moment later there came a rustling in the nearby thicket, and the monkey Little Gray came running back.
The sharp, troublesome thorns seemed to trouble Little Gray not at all; many a time it simply trod straight over them. As it came near, Mingli made it out: Little Gray held one hand to its chest—indeed, it was clutching several wild fruits—but its other hand trailed behind it, as though dragging something along.