劍問蒼天 - 第181章 無字玉壁 - 清風書屋

Ming Li was dumbfounded a moment, then shook his head. He found this legend of the Fan Yin Temple patriarch rather comical—there seemed to be altogether too much in it that rang false, and it had a wild, unrestrained air. He had held some vague hope for Master Pu Cheng's ritual; but now, hearing Fa Cheng tell it like a storyteller, he felt rather dispirited and could not help sighing inwardly.

Fa Cheng, careful as ever, noted every change in Ming Li's expression, but only smiled and led the way without a word. As for the tall, broad monk Fa Jing following behind them, he had always been a silent one, and he too said nothing.

The three followed the mountain road another half hour, winding among the high peaks and ridges, and before they knew it Fan Yin Temple lay far behind them, no longer in sight. Ming Li had not expected the rear mountains of Fan Yin Temple to be so much vaster than he had imagined. He saw ranges of layered green, the mountain breeze blowing gently; along the way strange crags jutted out in a thousand fantastic shapes, and here and there cliffs broke away in waterfalls that fell from the sky, roaring, like belts of jade.

Walking this road, he felt his heart and breast open wide, and gazing at the fine scenery near and far, he did not feel bored at all.

Suddenly he heard Fa Cheng ahead say, "Just ahead now."

Ming Li was startled and looked forward—but there ahead the mountain road still wound on, dense forest on one side, weeds and brambles on the other, and three chi beyond, a sheer cliff. Where was this Wordless Jade Wall over seven zhang high that they spoke of?

"May I ask, Senior Brother, where is this jade wall?"

Fa Cheng smiled, walked a few steps forward to the edge of the cliff, and said over his shoulder, "It is here."

Ming Li came to his side and stood upon the cliff, raising his eyes to look. Below the cliff the mist was thick, rolling like waves, surging without cease, as though it were a valley. And in the distance he could vaguely make out the blurred shapes of mountains, all very far away.

Ming Li pondered, then turned to Fa Cheng and said, "Is it within this valley?"

Fa Cheng smiled and said, "It is beneath our very feet."

Ming Li started, and Fa Cheng was already saying with a smile, "Let us go down." With that he leaped from the cliff, and Fa Jing followed at once. Ming Li stood on the cliff, considered a moment, and leaped down as well.

In the mist, Shi Po flickered with a dark blue-green light, slowly enfolding Ming Li, sheltering him as he descended.

The mist here seemed somewhat strange—thick and yet not thick, tangled together like winding silk; for all the mountain wind blew upon it, not the least of it scattered. As he fell, Ming Li peered toward the cliff face, but saw only a expanse of white mist, and could see nothing at all.

Alarmed and doubtful, he urged Shi Po and drew a little nearer the cliff face; the mist parted like cloud layers, sliding away to either side before his eyes. And just as he was concentrating, suddenly a human figure appeared before him.

Ming Li's heart jolted; he hastily checked his descent and looked closely—and this shock was far greater still, for there before him stood, unmistakably, a Ming Li identical to himself, staring at him in astonishment.

That man's gaze was deep, and upon his face there was even a look of vicissitude; in his hand, too, he held a Shi Po demon staff. And just as Ming Li stood stunned, suddenly from beyond the sky came a chant of Buddha—deep as a great bell or drum—echoing heavily at his ear.

With that chant, a solemn power in an instant surged up from the nameless ground beneath his feet, rushing skyward like a vast flood, and at once the surrounding mist rolled in and swallowed that figure, which vanished. Ming Li felt a pain in his heart, and the cold qi within him stirred of itself without being urged, as though utterly repelled by this Buddha aura, rising of its own accord to resist.