劍問蒼天 - 第212章 迴歸 - 清風書屋

Lu Xueling shook her head. "Senior Sister, what are you saying? I would never dare harbor the slightest thought of blaming Master. If I don't dare go pay my respects, it's only because I know my own unworthiness, and fear I'd merely provoke Master's anger and distress her."

Wen Pei was taken aback. She looked at Lu Xueling, and after a long while, her expression complex, words forming and failing on her lips, she only sighed low and rose to her feet.

Just then, far off at the horizon, a flash of lightning tore across the sky, and on its heels a clap of thunder burst out, sharp as rending silk—yet it seemed to echo directly overhead, its reverberations lingering long without fading.

The wind outside seemed to pick up another notch.

Wen Pei frowned, walked to the window, and glanced out. "By the look of the sky, the rain's going to come down harder."

Lu Xueling rose too and slowly walked to the window, standing beside Wen Pei and looking out. In the darkness, two slender figures stood side by side, gazing at the heavy black night and the endless wind and rain.

From afar, the rustling billows of bamboo and the sound of rain beating on bamboo leaves came drifting faintly.

For a time, perhaps absorbed in that quiet, neither spoke.

After a long while, Wen Pei drew a deep breath, smiled faintly, and said, "Come to think of it, it's been ages since we watched the rain together like this, hasn't it?"

A faint smile touched the corner of Lu Xueling's mouth. "Yes. In fact, I remember—when I first came up the mountain as a child, it was you who looked after me from the very start. I was so foolish then; whenever there was a stormy night and the thunder rolled, I'd be terrified." She turned her head slowly, her eyes full of tenderness, and said in a low voice, "Every time, you'd take me by the hand and sit with me by the window watching the rain, telling me there was nothing to fear."

Wen Pei shook her head and laughed despite herself; reaching out, she gently stroked the soft long hair on Lu Xueling's shoulder, then suddenly gave a sigh. "In the blink of an eye, you've grown up."

Lu Xueling felt Wen Pei's palm pat her shoulder lightly, and it seemed a trace of warmth flowed from there. After a moment's silence, she looked at her senior sister and said, "Senior Sister, if there's something you want to say, just say it."

Wen Pei paused, then gave a faint bitter smile. "I know you've always been clever as ice and snow—nothing can be hidden from you." She paused. "Junior Sister, the truth is, your wit far surpasses mine, so why can't you see through it, can't grasp it? Why torment yourself to no purpose?"

The smile at Lu Xueling's lips slowly faded, replaced by a familiar calm—only now, facing Wen Pei, she no longer carried that coldness.

"I'm not tormented!" Lu Xueling said quietly, gazing out at the night beyond the window.

Wen Pei looked at her, startled. Lu Xueling's gaze drifted far away, into some unknowable corner of the deep night, but the meaning of her words could not have been clearer: "I have never been tormented, Senior Sister. The sect's teachings have always been that we should be free of all attachments, at peace in our hearts, comprehend creation, and seek long life—is that not so?"

Wen Pei nodded. "That's right. In fact, in cultivation, our Daoist path and the Buddhist way have certain similarities."

Lu Xueling laid her hand lightly on the bamboo sill; a cold gust blew in and she seemed to feel a chill, shrinking slightly, but she stayed where she was. On her fair palm, glistening drops of water quickly gathered.

"But what do I want with long life?"

Wen Pei's mouth fell slightly open, and her brows knitted together.