Chapter 14 — The Xuanyuan Dragon-Taming Art
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
When the first ray of sunlight struck the valley, the stone gate before Wei Zhao, without the slightest warning, suddenly gave out the clatter of hidden machinery and slammed shut with a thunderous boom.
Once the gate had closed, Wei Zhao went up to it again; but this time, no matter what he did, the gate stayed perfectly silent, showing no inclination whatsoever to open.
It seemed the eight lines carved on the first stone stele had not lied to him: once this gate shut, it truly could not be opened again, and the next opening would have to wait five full years.
Though Wei Zhao felt a faint pang of disappointment, at least the box holding the secret manual was in his hands; everything else could wait until he got back and studied it.
"Xiaoyi, are you all right?" A familiar voice sounded behind Wei Zhao. He turned and found that Old Man Wei had appeared at his back without his ever noticing.
"Damn it, old man, were you trying to kick me to death? Dropping me like some flying acrobat from a mountain that high — do you really take me for Superman?" Wei Zhao thought of his fall from the summit the night before; even now his bones still ached dully.
"Well, you're not dead, are you?" Seeing that Wei Zhao was unharmed, Old Man Wei felt a genuine surge of relief. Though he had acted calm throughout, he had in truth been anxious. After all, Wei Zhao had fallen from such a height, and although the boy's body had been steeped in the medicines he had prepared, Old Man Wei had not been at all sure it would be enough.
"Not dead — near enough." Wei Zhao hesitated over whether to tell Old Man Wei what he had seen and heard, but after a moment's wavering he decided to lay the whole matter out exactly as it was. Old Man Wei, after all, had seen much and knew much.
"Old man, yesterday I went into that cave..." Wei Zhao said, pointing to the stone gate of the cave not far behind him.
"Mm..." Old Man Wei had already seen the box in Wei Zhao's hands and knew he must have gone into the cave the night before. Still, hearing Wei Zhao admit it with his own lips gladdened him. At least the boy did not treat him as an outsider — his years of raising Wei Zhao had not been wasted.
"And then..." Wei Zhao, unsure what Old Man Wei meant by it, went on to tell him everything he had seen and heard inside the cave, and finally held out the box before him: "This is that box."
"Keep it yourself," Old Man Wei said mildly, glancing at the box.
"You don't want to look?" Wei Zhao was baffled. Something so extraordinary — how could Old Man Wei act as if it were nothing at all?
"Looking would be no use," Old Man Wei said, shaking his head.
Wei Zhao had a great many questions, but Old Man Wei's manner — "don't ask me," "do as you please" — left him swallowing his words.
Together with Old Man Wei, he made the difficult climb back home through the side path at the bottom of the valley. Old Man Wei fell onto the bed and went straight to sleep, leaving Wei Zhao alone, clutching the box and staring at it, eye to eye.
Since Old Man Wei showed such utter indifference to it, Wei Zhao had no choice but to study the contents of the box himself. He set the box on the battered Eight Immortals table and began to examine it.
The little box was made in an antique style, like the wooden boxes in which imperial edicts or elixirs had once been kept in the palaces of old. It was not locked, however; once Wei Zhao undid the clasp on top, the lid opened easily.
Wei Zhao's eyes went wide, his breathing quickening. At last the lid was open, and inside lay a silk scroll.
He lifted the scroll out, and there, at the bottom of the box, he saw a jade pendant. He quickly picked it up and held it under the lamplight to examine it closely.