Chapter 18 — To the Gathering

Standing on the immortal sword and hugging Song Dayi tight, Zhang Qingyue was nervous, yet could not for anything bring himself to shut his eyes. He watched the green peaks of Dazhu Peak dwindle farther and farther behind him, and then suddenly all before him went white, a vast whiteness, as they pierced into thick banks of cloud and could see nothing at all.

Now above and below, before and behind, all was boundless cloud; the great wind howled without cease, stinging his cheeks. Zhang Qingyue's body trembled slightly, half from nerves, half from excitement. To ride galloping across blue sky and white cloud, what a dream that was!

The sea of clouds was vast; how long they flew, he could not tell. Just as Zhang Qingyue's heart was slowly settling, as though to astonish him one more time, the Ten Tigers, shrieking sharply as it split the air, burst out of the cloud sea.

That boundless blue sky was like a deep ocean hung upside down, blue almost to purity, endless, magnificent, majestic. As they broke through, the white clouds beneath their feet seemed like spray, trailing long streamers of vapor in their wake as if reluctant to let them go; and like little waves on a great river they drifted up into the air, then slowly sank back into the cloud sea.

The vault of heaven was washed clean. The Ten Tigers soared upward until it was nearly three hundred zhang above the vast cloud sea below, and only then did Song Dayi level the blade and begin flying straight toward Jietian Peak.

In the distance a towering peak rose into the clouds, no, into the very sky, standing proud and aloof. There, where white clouds drifted, the faint sound of a bell echoed through that vast heaven and earth. Jietian Peak seemed truly to lead into the blue heaven.

Zhang Qingyue held his breath and gazed far out. Beneath the boundless blue sky, around that majestic peak, countless beams of light in every hue swirled and danced, growing ever denser the closer they came to Jietian Peak.

Zhang Qingyue knew these were the treasures driven by the disciples of the Canglan Sect, colored variously according to the five elements of each treasure, so that the whole was a riot of color, exceedingly beautiful. These beams of light were like colored stones falling as rain, pouring toward that peak, a spectacle of magnificent grandeur. And they, together with the Ten Tigers, soon merged into that brilliant torrent.

With a rush of wind, Song Dayi brought Zhang Qingyue down on his sword onto a vast plaza. The instant they touched ground, the monkey Xiao Hui was looking every which way, then leaped from Zhang Qingyue's shoulder and bounced about the plaza, beside himself with excitement. Zhang Qingyue paid him no mind and looked around: white jade railings, wave upon wave of immortal aura, and in the center of the plaza nine great bronze cauldrons set out in threes. Most startling of all, the plaza was wreathed in rising clouds, so that walking there was like walking amid clouds, giving one the feeling of having become an immortal.

Zhang Qingyue found it all strangely familiar, and remembered that this was the Sea of Clouds, one of the so-called Six Scenes of Qingyun that he had visited when he first came to Mount Canglan. Five years had passed, and it was as it had always been, unchanged, still as beautiful and ethereal; only today it was far livelier than five years ago.

The plaza was by now bustling beyond measure. The Canglan Sect disciples who had come for the Seven Branches Martial Contest were presumably all gathered here for the time being; from afar, a sea of heads, surely several hundred strong. Most of those standing on the plaza wore the Canglan Sect's garb, some in Daoist robes and some in secular dress, men and women alike, and the young were especially numerous; there was no lack of spirited, striking figures, plain proof of how the Canglan Sect had exerted itself these years to bring on its young disciples.

Though several hundred people stood upon the plaza, it still seemed spacious. Song Dayi cast his eyes about, when suddenly a clear voice called from afar: "Eldest Senior Brother, we're over here!"

Song Dayi and Zhang Qingyue looked over; it was the Dazhu Peak group, and the one calling was, needless to say, Tian Lingsu. They stood beside one of the huge bronze cauldrons in the middle of the plaza, and Tian Lingsu was waving to them.

Song Dayi answered and went over with Zhang Qingyue. Along the way Zhang Qingyue looked about and saw the disciples of the other branches standing in knots of three or five, all seemingly in high spirits, discussing something, no doubt every one of them full of anticipation for the grand martial contest to come.

When they came up, He Dachuan, standing behind Tian Lingsu, spoke first: "Eldest Senior Brother, was the trip smooth?"

Song Dayi smiled and said: "It's not our first time here. What trouble could there be?"

Tian Lingsu glanced at Zhang Qingyue and smiled: "Xiaofan, was the scenery along the way to your liking?"

Recalling the splendor of the blue sky just past, splendid enough to stir the heart, Zhang Qingyue said from the bottom of his heart: "It was utterly beautiful."

Tian Lingsu giggled, patted his shoulder, and said: "Work harder from now on. Once you've refined a treasure and learned to fly, you can fly up into the blue sky every day and look your fill."

Zhang Qingyue said nothing, but his face broke into a smile, and he nodded firmly.

Song Dayi looked around, then asked He Dachuan: "Fourth Junior Brother, where are Master and Master's wife?"

He Dachuan said: "We followed Master and Master's wife here, and the senior brother from the leading branch who received us led them up to Jade Purity Temple, saying the presiding elders of the seven branches were to gather and settle the last details of the grand contest. Master told us to wait here."

Song Dayi nodded, then beckoned, gathered his juniors around him, looked about, and lowered his voice: "Why do I see so many unfamiliar brothers from the other branches? You've been here a while. Any news?"

He Dachuan shook his head and said: "I felt the same. It seems the branches have taken in a good many new disciples these years."

The second brother, Wu Dayi, glanced around and said: "Plenty of new faces, but I'd wager that most of those who take the stage tomorrow will still be the senior brothers of deep cultivation. After all, they still have the edge in experience."

Song Dayi suddenly sighed and said: "Second Junior Brother, that may not hold. Do you remember that young disciple Lin Jinghong, whom the Longfeng Sect sent with a message two years ago?"

Wu Dayi was taken aback, then fell silent. The others exchanged glances and said nothing, save that a sudden, tangled emotion swept through Zhang Qingyue's heart—something like joy, something like envy, and perhaps a touch of jealousy besides.

"And what does that fellow amount to?" someone said coldly, all at once.

The others started, and saw that it was Tian Lingsu who had spoken. Her pretty face was faintly flushed, her lovely eyes wide, as she said with bitter vehemence, "It would be one thing if he simply didn't come to this contest. But if he dares to show his face, then let him meet me—and then I'll settle the score with him once and for all!"

The company from Dazhu Peak looked at one another. Sixth Brother Du Biyan had always been quick-witted and faster still to react; he laughed and said, "Junior Sister has it exactly right. If such a coincidence really came to pass—heh heh—senior brothers, why don't we make a wager on who wins and who loses?"

"Get out, get out!" Fifth Brother Lü Daxin, standing beside him, kicked him away.

Song Dayi smiled and was about to say something when he heard a light cough behind him, and a woman's voice said softly, "Senior Brother Song, it has been a long while."

Song Dayi suddenly started as if struck a heavy blow.