Chapter 48 — The Town

Zhang Qingyue shuddered, but his expression was stern. "This dark iron rod may be a thing of evil, but if I use it to slay demons and root out evil, then it is the orthodox way, and my conscience is clear—just as with the ancient sword Immortal-Slayer of my sect that you spoke of."

Wan Ren Gui was taken aback. He rose slowly and looked Zhang Qingyue up and down, as though seeing him anew, and the corners of his mouth even showed a trace of a smile. "That you could think your way to such a point on your own—rare, rare indeed! That alone puts you above your Qingyun—no, above most people in this world!"

Zhang Qingyue paid him no mind, only fixed him with his gaze. "Who are you, really?"

Wan Ren Gui did not answer, but asked instead, "You are traveling north this time—are you returning to Canglan Mountain?"

Zhang Qingyue was slightly startled. "What do you mean?"

Wan Ren Gui smiled faintly. "You have not heard? The demon cult has risen again and grown greatly in power. Of late they have gathered on Liubo Mountain in the Eastern Sea, and many from your Canglan Sect have gone there to join with the other sects. I fear a great battle is at hand. Why do you not go and see?"

Zhang Qingyue was dumbstruck. "Such a thing has happened?" But he raised his head at once and said, "That is no concern of mine. I ask you once more—" The words broke off unfinished, for in that single moment of distraction Wan Ren Gui had vanished like a phantom, and even the tea-stall keeper in the distance was gone. Only the lone tea stall remained, and Zhang Qingyue by himself.

Zhang Qingyue looked blankly about him. In broad daylight, for some reason, he felt a chill.

He stood there a long while, and at last, with a stamp of his foot, he stepped out from beneath the great tree and set off eastward.

Not long after Zhang Qingyue had gone, two or three figures emerged from behind the great tree. The first was Wan Ren Gui; the second was the tea-stall keeper; and the third was none other than the demon-cult maiden Bili, who would surely have given Zhang Qingyue a great shock had he seen her.

Wan Ren Gui looked east and nodded slightly, a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. "That youth has a stubborn temper and a firm will—a little like I was in my day."

The tea-stall keeper beside him had long since shed his doddering manner; his eyes were keen and his bearing majestic. "Sect Master, since he carries a great treasure of our demon cult in his hand, why did you not keep the fellow here?"

Wan Ren Gui took being addressed as "Sect Master" in perfect stride and said mildly, "The Blood-Devouring Bead and the Soul-Stealer, by some means, have been fused by that youth with his own essence blood and become blood-refined artifacts. As things stand, no one but that youth can wield them; taking them from him would be of no use."

Bili gave a hum at his side. "I said that day beneath the Dead Spirit Abyss that there was something queer about that rod. So it had such a history."

Wan Ren Gui turned to look at Bili, his expression grown very gentle. "Bili, what do you make of this youth?"

Bili blushed and said crossly, "Father, it was I who asked you to come and see what you make of him today!"

Wan Ren Gui chuckled. "The youth is not bad at all. It is only that he has been poisoned too deeply by the Canglan Sect's parochial ways since childhood. To make him join our Holy Cult—with that stubborn nature of his—would be a thousand times difficult."

Bili's face fell at once, and she sighed softly.

Wan Ren Gui reached out and gently stroked his daughter's head, smiling. "But he was able to loose the knot that has bound you for years and bring father and daughter together again. That kindness we must surely repay."

Bili's expression shifted, and she said joyfully, "Father, you have a way?"

Wan Ren Gui gazed up at the sky, and an air of authority slowly radiated from him, betraying a man long accustomed to holding power in his hands. Yet for some reason his expression seemed tinged with sorrow, and he said slowly, "To change a man's nature is not easy, but neither is it impossible."

Joy showed plainly on Bili's face. Wan Ren Gui turned and saw it, and smiled faintly—an expression no different from that of any father in this world watching his daughter rejoice. Bili smiled back at her father, but noticed the man beside them frowning, who said in a low voice to Wan Ren Gui, "Sect Master, he is but a nameless youth of the Canglan Sect. Is he worth such effort from us?"

Wan Ren Gui shook his head. "The youth holds in his hand a thing of great malevolence such as the world has never seen, and from the look of him he can wield it with ease. He will not remain a creature of the pond in days to come. If such talent could be won over, it would greatly aid my ambitions—to say nothing of the great service he has done us father and daughter."

Bili nodded again and again. "Exactly! I told him that day—if he could join our Holy Cult, Father would surely think highly of him. He simply would not listen."

Wan Ren Gui laughed. "How could he listen? With that temper of his, and raised in Qingyun from childhood, he has long loathed our Holy Cult to the bone. Only—heh heh—the Blood-Devouring Bead and the Soul-Stealer are both things of the utmost malevolence in this world. Though the youth has somehow refined them into blood-bound artifacts whose malevolent aura is now contained and no longer shows outwardly, can one carry two such things about and remain untouched? In my view, the youth's cultivation is shallow, and day and night he keeps company with these things of great malevolence. In time, invaded by the fierce qi within the artifacts, his nature will surely change—he will grow cruel and bloodthirsty. When the orthodox sects can no longer tolerate him, and we add a little scheme of our own, he will find it hard not to join our Holy Cult." With that he laughed heartily.

Bili was struck dumb, unable to say whether she felt joy or worry, and found herself speechless. She could only gaze blankly eastward, where the sun shone bright and stood at its zenith over the ancient road—but the youth's figure was long since gone.

Zhang Qingyue left the tea stall and went east alone.

It was the hour of noon, and sunlight flooded the earth. Beyond the hills of the Kongsang Mountains lay a broad fertile plain, open and sparsely peopled. Only an ancient road, trodden by who knew how many ancients and moderns, stretched straight on across the wilderness.

Zhang Qingyue did not fly through the air, but walked the ancient road alone in silence. The words he had exchanged with Wan Ren Gui had shaken him deeply. Though he had faced Wan Ren Gui with righteous indignation, now, alone by himself, he could not help asking himself: Am I truly right?

The black iron rod still rested quietly at his waist, and from its shaft came a faint thread of coolness, now present, now not.

On he walked, and walked, and walked...

Beneath the vault of heaven, upon the ancient road, the youth burdened with cares suddenly stopped and looked up at the sky.

The sky was azure, high above, and it seemed so utterly beyond reach.

Zhang Qingyue gazed blankly at it. His lips moved slightly, his brows knitted together, and in a low voice, to the sky—and as though to someone's inmost heart—he said softly:

"Why is it, after all, that people live in this world?"

Along the way Zhang Qingyue braved wind and slept in the open. He had little silver on him, but when hungry he caught wild birds and hares in the fields, and when weary he found a tree to sleep beneath. In any case, from his days on Dazhu Peak doing his bamboo-cutting chores, his body had grown strong, and he did not find it hard going.