劍問蒼天 - 第192章 暗傷 - 清風書屋

Ming Li's face turned cold in an instant, but before he could speak, Jin Pingyue pressed on: "These ten years, especially since Bilu's misfortune, you have never stayed so long alone with a woman, have you? Perhaps without meaning to, over these days together, the hostility between us has faded, and you let slip a few words—and now you feel you have wronged her?"

Ming Li stared at Jin Pingyue, his gaze already icy. "What do you mean by saying such things? And why bring up Bilu?"

Under that cold gaze, which seemed capable of killing, Jin Pingyue showed not the slightest fear or thought of retreat. On the contrary, she smiled faintly, and in her eyes there seemed a hidden excitement, as though she were provoking him. Her gaze flickered. "You are afraid, are you not?"

Ming Li sprang to his feet in a rush. "Afraid of what? Say one more word of this nonsense and I will not be courteous—"

"You are afraid you will forget Bilu!" Jin Pingyue suddenly raised her voice, and her cry, clear as ice splitting and snow severing, cut into the invisible space between them.

Ming Li's mouth, opened in anger, froze as though locked in place; no sound at all would come out, as if he had been struck in a vital spot. Jin Pingyue too fell suddenly silent. In that shouted question, which seemed still to echo around them, the world about them went still—not a whisper of sound.

Just then the sky was a deep blue, distant mountain ranges rose and fell, and a wind seemed to blow in from the far horizon; the woods and grasses began to rustle and murmur.

It was already afternoon. The wind brushed across their faces and through their hair.

The sunlight grew lazier still. The two faced each other in silence; neither spoke.

Jin Pingyue watched the man before her, something ceaselessly flickering in her eyes—something like pity, and something like a cold smile.

After a long while, she reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair, blown loose by the wind onto her brow, behind her ear, and her voice grew gentler too. "For the sake of a sentiment from those years ago, you no longer even dare trust yourself—is it that you fear you might forget her without meaning to?" Her smile too seemed faint, like a wildflower swaying lightly in the wind. "Pressing yourself down with all your might, reminding yourself at every turn—who in all the world knows that this Ming Li, the first great general of the Mingwang Sect whom everyone dreads and fears, is such a pitiful man?"

Ming Li's expression shifted, paling and darkening by turns. Then suddenly he drew a long breath, lifted his head to the sky, held his breath a moment, and slowly let it out. When he looked back again, his face was calm as ever, with not the slightest trace of sorrow or joy—only a flat indifference.

"And what are you, to speak to me this way, when you yourself—how do you fare?" he said lightly, a faint mockery in his eyes, as though in that instant he had quite forgotten his momentary loss of composure.

Jin Pingyue smiled. "Me? I am nothing at all—only a woman keeping you company just now!"

Ming Li paid no heed to the barb hidden in her words and turned his head away. Just then the grass nearby parted suddenly, a gray shadow flashed, and out leaped Xiaohui. It bounded back to Ming Li's side in a few hops, and on closer look, the monkey was clutching a number of wild fruits, its mouth still chewing busily—no wonder its familiar squeaks had not been heard.

Ming Li gathered it up and held out his hand. Xiaohui grinned wide and laid the fruits it had picked in his palm. They were a lovely, vivid red, though not large, plump and full—most tempting to look at.

Ming Li put one in his mouth and bit into it twice. The taste was faintly astringent, but the flesh was juicy and sweet, a rare delicacy. He nodded, picked out several, glanced at Jin Pingyue, and handed them over. "Xiaohui has a born gift for telling poison. The wild fruits it picks can all be eaten."