劍問蒼天 - 第146章 毒計 - 清風書屋

A thousand li away, it was likewise deep night; the bright moon hung high in the sky, gazing quietly down upon this mortal world.

Out on the wild plain, another figure raised his head to look upon that cold moon. He wore a long robe with wide sleeves, still in the garb of a Daoist, and on his sharply cut face the faint, imposing air of one who commanded without anger was still discernible.

The night wind drifted across the fields, swaying the wild grass; between the stirring of garments and the silence, it seemed even time itself had come to a standstill.

Only, who can hold fast to the years? In the blink of an eye, in the moment one's thoughts wandered, ten years had passed after all.

Someone sighed, the sound light and clear, drifting slowly away on the wind.

Amid this stillness, a voice suddenly came from afar, carrying a thread of laughter: "On such a fine night with such beautiful scenery, you take in the moon all alone, Daoist—truly a man of good spirits!"

The voice had begun far off, but by the time the sentence was finished it had already arrived behind the Daoist. The Daoist drew a deep breath and turned around; there beneath the moonlight stood, unmistakably, Cangyan Daoren, who ten years ago had colluded with the demon cult and rebelled against Qingyun.

And standing not far behind him was the smiling sect master of the Mingwang Sect, Mingwang himself—only at this moment, though Mingwang's complexion was as it had always been, his crown of white hair made him look considerably more haggard than before. Only in his eyes did another kind of blazing light glimmer faintly, more piercing than in former days.

Cangyan Daoren's gaze rested briefly on Mingwang's hair, and the calm composure of his expression changed; in astonishment he said, "Sect Master, your hair—how..."

Mingwang gave a faint smile. Such a reaction from Cangyan Daoren was, in fact, exactly what he had anticipated. For one of his profound cultivation, even a hundred years would scarcely alter his appearance; yet now he had turned white-haired in three days, and outsiders like Cang Song, who knew nothing of the cause, would naturally be astonished beyond measure, supposing he had encountered some problem in his cultivation.

Mingwang offered no explanation, nor did his expression change much; smiling, he said only, "Though you and I are both cultivators, we are, after all, mortal still—and in gratitude and grievance, in love and hate, there is always something to break the heart."

Cangyan Daoren composed his face and said gravely, "True enough. I have spoken out of turn."

Mingwang shook his head with a smile, walked over to Cangyan Daoren's side with his hands clasped behind his back, and said amiably, "Let it pass. But since the great battle at Qingyun ten years ago, I have heard that you were honored by the Wandu Sect as a presiding elder, held in the highest esteem. I wonder—what matter of such urgency has moved you to summon me here tonight? If the revered Poison God were to learn of it, it would be nothing to me, but for you, Daoist, I fear it would bring no small inconvenience."

Cangyan Daoren regarded Mingwang for a long while; Mingwang asked nothing further but kept his smile and waited. After a good while, Cang Song sighed and said, "Sect Master, you are indeed beyond the common run. In truth, I summoned you tonight because there is a grave matter I wished to discuss."

Mingwang said, "Speak, Daoist."

Cang Song glanced at Mingwang and said, "Does the Sect Master know that the Poison God, master of the Wandu Sect, passed away three days ago?"

Cangyan Daoren's voice was not loud, yet it struck like a thunderclap in a soundless place; even a man of Mingwang's composure could not keep from starting, his countenance changing drastically as the words burst from him: "What?"