Chapter 62 — The Demonic Cult

He had barely spoken half his words when Tian Lingsu, ahead, turned her head. Her face was wreathed in smiles; seeing that it was Zhang Qingyue, she was all the more delighted, and called out loudly: "Xiaofan, isn't flying like this wonderful? Look—how high the sky is, how blue!"

Zhang Qingyue turned his head, drew a deep breath, and smiled.

The sky was high, the clouds pale, the blue boundless—truly it lifted the heart and refreshed the spirit. And yet, how could it compare with that one smile of the beloved woman deep in his heart?

Tian Lingsu flew into the wind, her fine hair streaming. Above her was the blue sky, below her the green hills, and farther off still the boundless blue ocean; gazing to the far horizon, sea and sky met in a single line.

This land was like a painting, its beauty beyond all telling. Tian Lingsu was in excellent spirits; she smiled sweetly, and as she turned her head she twisted her body and moved to the side. Zhang Qingyue suddenly saw Tian Lingsu fly near, looked at her, and said: "Senior sister, what is it?"

Tian Lingsu laughed. "Xiaofan, do you remember when we caught Little Grey back then?"

Zhang Qingyue was somewhat puzzled. "I remember. What of it?"

Tian Lingsu reached out and seized his arm. "Let's go!"

Zhang Qingyue was just wondering what she meant when he saw Tian Lingsu's treasure suddenly plunge—she was diving straight down. Zhang Qingyue hastily brought his treasure down too, following close behind her. And behind the two of them, Song Dayi and the others were farther off and had not heard what they said; caught unprepared, and with their treasures flying at such speed in midair, in an instant they had shot out ahead.

The three of them groaned in dismay and hastily reined in, turning to look back, only to see their young junior sister and little junior brother, one after the other, flying down toward the green forest below their feet. They could only shake their heads and smile wryly, and hurry after them; after all, the sect's command was to search out the remnants of the Demonic Cult, and searching in this forest would serve just as well. But by this, a distance had opened between them and Zhang Qingyue and Tian Lingsu.

Zhang Qingyue followed Tian Lingsu closely, and in a trice they had descended below the forest canopy. He heard Tian Lingsu give a soft laugh ahead, and turning her head, she said: "Xiaofan, hurry!"

As she spoke, the Amber Red Silk, as though possessed of spirit, turned over like a serpent twisting in midair, whirling and whistling beneath her pretty figure, red light flashing, and flew into the vast, wild forest. Zhang Qingyue gazed at that red shadow ahead, and hot blood surged in his heart; he thought of nothing else, and flew straight down.

The forest on this mountain was like the rest of the Liubo Mountains—giant ancient trees everywhere, rising straight to the sky, and even on the ground there were many shrubs and thorns, so that it was hard to find a foothold.

The moment the two of them entered the forest, they felt the world around them suddenly grow quiet; the sharp wind was gone from their ears, and a fresh scent of trees met them face to face. Tian Lingsu, smiling, stood upon the Amber Red Silk, her figure swift as lightning, weaving and flying through this ancient forest, among the countless giant old trees.

Looking from behind, Zhang Qingyue saw that lovely red shadow rise and fall, darting swiftly among the dense branches and leaves; accompanied by that shrill, light whistling, she was like the most beautiful fairy in the world, in this place beyond the world, in this forest of ancient trees, in a world where countless green leaves seemed to brim with laughter and faint cheering, dancing out the most beautiful of dances.

That figure—like lightning, like light—hugged the bodies of the giant trees; it looked most perilous, and yet with a gentle grace she slid softly past, never touching them in the least.

That figure—so entranced, so intoxicated—and in his daze it was youth again, green hills and clear waters, and happy, joyous laughter echoing out and away.

Suddenly his heart opened, and laughing, he flung wide his arms; the black iron staff bloomed with a pale blue-green light and bore him up, chasing her, flying through this ancient and peaceful forest.

As though this time, too, would go on like this, and never end...

The sky, for some reason, seemed suddenly to have grown somewhat overcast, and thick clouds gradually gathered in the heavens.

Zhang Qingyue withdrew his gaze, thinking that this place beyond the seas was, after all, different from the Central Plains: a moment ago it had been a clear day with high skies and pale clouds, and in the twinkling of an eye it seemed about to turn to gloom.

He and Tian Lingsu had flown a long while through the dense forest, and had not seen so much as a single follower of the Demonic Cult. At last, in a small hollow among the hills, Tian Lingsu spotted a little stream below; and having flown half the day, she was somewhat weary, so she called Zhang Qingyue down, and now they were washing their faces in the stream.

The stream wound its way through the ancient forest, shallow and clear, and in its water were many round pebbles, glimmering faintly as the limpid ripples stirred—very lovely. On either bank, beyond a few sandy shoals, farther off, was dense forest again, and at a glance this forest seemed to stretch on without end.

"Xiaofan." Tian Lingsu suddenly called out. Zhang Qingyue turned to look at her, and saw that she had been washing her face only halfway when she spotted a very pretty stone in the stream; she reached out and picked it up, and turning to Zhang Qingyue with delight, she said: "Isn't this stone pretty?"

Zhang Qingyue glanced at the stone. It was no bigger than a thumb, but upon it were three-colored veins of stone, running roughly and evenly around it like ribbons—truly rather pretty. He smiled, and raising his head to look at Tian Lingsu, was about to answer, when suddenly his mouth fell slightly open and he could not speak.

That familiar, beautiful face was gazing at him with a smile. The clear stream water from her washing had not yet been wiped away; glittering drops lay lightly upon her fair face, and now and again one could see them, tenderly, slide down her skin, pass the side of her cheek, and linger still beneath her smooth, soft lips, until at last, with a touching grace, they fell softly.

And upon those bright, limpid eyes, along the edges of her long lashes, several drops of water still clung, as though they were tears—yet like white pear blossoms after rain, so fresh and lovely.

Tian Lingsu said in reproach: "I asked you a question!"

Zhang Qingyue came to himself. "What?"

Tian Lingsu held the stone up before his eyes. "Isn't it pretty?"

Zhang Qingyue drew a deep breath, and said low, as though the words were torn from the deepest place in his soul: "It is beautiful!"

Tian Lingsu nodded and smiled. She took a silk handkerchief from her bosom and wiped the drops from her face, then carefully wiped the stone as well and put it in her bosom; then, turning to Zhang Qingyue with what in his eyes was the most beautiful smile in the world, she said: "When we go back in a little while, I will give this stone to Brother Qi. He is sure to like it!"

The sky over the Liubo Mountains seemed, in that instant, to darken a little more.

Zhang Qingyue stood there as though suddenly frozen, his head bowed, motionless.

Tian Lingsu walked a few steps forward, and feeling no sound behind her, turned her head and saw that Zhang Qingyue was still standing in the same place without moving. Surprised, she said: "Xiaofan, come on!"

Zhang Qingyue slowly raised his head, and slowly, slowly, a faint smile appeared on his face—only one did not know why his lips seemed faintly to tremble. Softly he said: "Senior sister, we are flying too fast. Why not wait for eldest senior brother and the others?"