Chapter 12 — The Mutation

Zhang Qingyue started awake. He wanted to tell her of the strange things that had just happened, but for a moment did not know where to begin, and in his heart he felt the whole business was too bizarre — even he himself was full of doubt. He hesitated, then at last said, "N-no, nothing, senior sister."

Only then did Tian Lingsu set her mind at ease. When she had woken, she found that evening was coming on and that she lay beneath a great pine, while her junior brother had collapsed in the clearing some distance away, dead to the world. Frightened, she had run to Zhang Qingyue's side, and thankfully he had woken after only a moment.

Tian Lingsu looked around her, then said to Zhang Qingyue, "Junior brother, there's something very strange about this place. We had best leave as soon as we can. Tomorrow I'll have Mother come and take a look."

Zhang Qingyue nodded and was about to scramble to his feet when a violent pain seized his whole body and his head swam; had Tian Lingsu not caught him quickly, he would have fallen again.

Seeing how pale he was, not a trace of color left in his face, Tian Lingsu was truly worried. She helped him up carefully. Zhang Qingyue steadied himself, looked himself over, and found no wound; "Senior sister," he said, "it's only a little dizziness. Nothing serious."

Tian Lingsu examined him once more and saw that it was so. She nodded. "Then let's hurry back. It's dark already, and Father and Mother and all our senior brothers will be worrying about us."

"Yes," said Zhang Qingyue.

Tian Lingsu drew a deep breath and searched herself all over; there was nothing unusual. She muttered to herself, wondering how on earth she had fainted for no reason at all. Then she traced a sign with her hand; red light flashed, and with a whistling cry the Amber Crimson Sash came leaping out.

Tian Lingsu had just taken Zhang Qingyue up with her when a "chee chee" sounded close by. They turned and saw the grey-furred monkey standing beside them—since when, neither could tell—grinning at them, a short black staff some two feet long, of some unguessable material, still trailing from its hand.

Before the Shoujing Hall on Mount Dazhu, Tian Buhui paced back and forth, his brows knit, a trace of anxiety on his face. That morning his daughter and that good-for-nothing seventh disciple had gone up the back mountain to cut bamboo and play, and now that it was dark there was still no sign of them. Su Wan had gone out searching at first light, and by now he had sent the disciples out after her one by one, but there was no trace of them on Mount Dazhu, and all around the mountains rose and fell and the forests stood thick—finding two people was truly like fishing a needle out of the sea.

He was in the midst of his fretting when a rushing sound came through the air. Tian Buhui looked up and saw Su Wan returning with the two little rascals. From the look of Tian Lingsu and the boy they were none the worse, but on Zhang Qingyue's shoulder there perched a grey-furred monkey—where it had come from, no one could say.

Only then did Tian Buhui set his heart at ease, yet the anger on his face did not recede in the least. Zhang Qingyue stole two glances at his master, his heart quailing, not daring to stir, his head sunk so low that his chin touched his chest; and to make matters worse, the grey monkey was full of mischief, now and again reaching into Zhang Qingyue's hair as though it hoped to pick out a few lice.

Tian Lingsu put away the Amber Crimson Sash. From the corner of her eye she saw her father standing before the hall in a fury. Her eyes darted a few times; then, her smile like a flower, innocent and adorable beyond words, she skipped over to Tian Buhui's side, took him by the hand, and said, "Father, we're back."

Tian Buhui gave a snort. "Where have you been?"

"Xiaofan was cutting bamboo when a monkey bullied him," Tian Lingsu said with a grin. "So I went to catch it and get even for him. There—that's the monkey." She pointed toward Zhang Qingyue.

The grey monkey on Zhang Qingyue's shoulder was startled. It screeched "chee chee" twice in their direction and put on a show of fury, then scratched its head and turned its attention back to Zhang Qingyue's hair.

Tian Lingsu made a face at it, then gave a rough account of the chase. "... And then I chased it into the valley, and suddenly I felt sick, and the next thing I knew I had fainted. When I woke, Xiaofan was lying on the ground too, unconscious. But luckily neither of us was hurt. When we were about to come back, I saw that the monkey seemed very attached to Xiaofan, so I brought it along too."

Tian Buhui frowned and turned to his wife. "What's this about?"

Su Wan shook her head. "When I found the two of them on the back mountain, I went down to look around, and there was nothing out of the ordinary. Most likely Ling'er's cultivation is not yet deep enough, and she insisted on carrying Xiaofan through the air with her on the Amber Crimson Sash—in the end she simply exhausted herself."

"Mother, what nonsense are you saying?" Tian Lingsu wheedled. "How could my cultivation not be enough? Xiaofan, don't you think so?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Zhang Qingyue said hastily.

Tian Buhui shot Zhang Qingyue a cold look. "A disciple of the Canglan Sect, and you let a monkey bully you. If word of this gets out, you will have shamed me to the bone."

Zhang Qingyue flushed crimson, not daring to make a sound, his head hanging low.

Su Wan went over, took Tian Lingsu's hand, and said gently, "You haven't eaten all day. Hungry?"

Tian Lingsu stuck out her tongue and laughed. "Starving, Mother!"

Su Wan glared at her and led her off toward the kitchen, saying as she went, "Little body, big schemes!"

By now Zhang Qingyue too felt the hunger gnawing at his belly, but in Tian Buhui's presence he dared not move a muscle. He listened as Su Wan and Tian Lingsu's voices faded into the distance, and still his master made no further sound. He stole a glance upward and found the space before the hall empty—Tian Buhui had gone at some unknown moment. No doubt in his heart he felt that even one more scolding for this idiot disciple would be a waste of breath.

Zhang Qingyue stood there at a loss for a long while, until his stomach rumbled like thunder. Only then did he turn—and somehow he could not bring himself to walk toward the kitchen; instead he headed for his own room.

Back in his room, he shut the door fast. The grey monkey on his shoulder looked left and right, gave a "chee" as though it knew it had come home, leaped down from his shoulder, darted in two or three bounds onto the bed, and began bouncing and leaping about, snatching up the pillow and flinging it this way and that in great delight.

Watching the monkey, a faint smile touched the corner of Zhang Qingyue's mouth, but hunger at once pressed it down again. He sat down by the table, poured a cup of cold overnight water from the teapot, and drank it off.

A chill ran straight to his heart.

He sat blankly for a while, then reached into his robe and drew something out: that ugly short staff. The bead Puzhao had given him was now joined fast to the nameless rod, and even its color had changed with it, to a murky dark cyan, black and dull, while at the joining there lay a patch of dark red, as though of clotted bloodstains—not merely ugly, but positively revolting.

He stared at it a long while, then suddenly gave a bitter laugh, flung out his hand with all his strength, and hurled the staff at the wall. It struck with a loud crack, fell, and dropped into a corner of the room.

The grey monkey started in fright and looked up at Zhang Qingyue, not understanding his temper. Zhang Qingyue sighed, took off his shoes, got into bed, and pulled the quilt over his head to sleep. The monkey scratched its head, wholly at a loss.

That night Zhang Qingyue tossed and turned, tormented by hunger, and only late in the night did he drift into a muddled sleep.