Chapter 108 — Stealth

The mountains of the southern frontier were utterly unlike the ranges of the Central Plains: they had less of delicate beauty and tranquil seclusion, and far more of towering steepness and perilous harshness.

Beneath the veil of night, the rolling mountain ranges stood firm and imposing, ridge upon ridge interlocking, and from afar they seemed to radiate a killing stillness.

Ming Li stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing into the distance. Beyond two lower peaks and a stretch of rather flat wasteland, four tall and lofty summits suddenly reared up from the earth, linked ring upon ring to enclose a valley. Behind those four great peaks, under the vast night, lay countless shadows—the boundless, endless Myriad Wild Mountains along the southern frontier.

And among the foremost four peaks lay the valley renowned throughout the world: Fenxia Valley.

Deep was the night, and high hung the lone moon, with a few faintly glimmering stars scattered across the sky. Beneath that cold, clear radiance, a thin mist seemed to drift over the distant valley, floating gently like gossamer gauze—a beauty tinged with something mysterious.

Ming Li frowned and withdrew his gaze.

It was already the third day. On that night three days ago, he and Jin Pingyue of the Devil Sect's Bewitching Soul Faction had abruptly discovered that Fenxia Valley appeared to be secretly colluding with the southern barbarian tribes of the Myriad Wild Mountains, and they had resolved to investigate the valley in secret. The three words "Fenxia Valley" rang like thunder here on the southern frontier; the two of them had learned the valley's location with ease. But when it came time to actually slip inside, they found matters rather troublesome indeed.

Fenxia Valley sprawled over an enormous tract of land; by rights it should not have been hard to infiltrate. And indeed, so it proved: with their own cultivation, the two easily evaded the ordinary disciples who patrolled the outer perimeter day and night. Yet every time they neared a somewhat deeper part of the valley, no matter how they concealed themselves, a sudden inexplicable peal of crisp ringing would erupt nearby, instantly drawing countless Fenxia Valley disciples to search the area carefully—and among them were no few experts.

Both Ming Li and Jin Pingyue were alert by nature, and several times they sensed danger early and withdrew in good time. But no matter how cautious they were, they could not escape that inexplicable ringing. After several days, they still could not penetrate deeper, and the valley seemed to have grown wary—it had reinforced its watch, with patrols day and night.

Ming Li pondered for a long while but still could not work out how Fenxia Valley divined their movements in advance. It seemed this valley—ranked among the three great orthodox sects of the world—truly hid dragons and crouching tigers.

Just then, Little Grey, who had been lying quietly on his shoulder, suddenly stirred, and from behind came a soft, low cry:

"Ah!"

Ming Li turned. In a small clearing among the trees a fire had been built, and Jin Pingyue sat before it, a wooden stick in her hand with a cleaned wild hare skewered upon it, roasting. Now she had knitted her delicate brows and was staring at the stick with a rather dejected look.

Ming Li walked over.

These past three days he and Jin Pingyue had tried again and again to slip into Fenxia Valley, and every attempt had ended in failure. Their usual relationship was delicate in the extreme: on the surface they kept the peace, but in secret each was on guard against the other, both knowing the other to be deep-scheming and ruthless, neither certain whether the other might suddenly strike to kill.

As he drew near the fire, Little Grey on his shoulder gave a "squeak" and leaped to the ground. Ming Li looked at Jin Pingyue and could not help starting: she was gazing helplessly at the hare skewered on her stick—one of its legs had been charred black.

The two of them had been circling the outskirts of Fenxia Valley for days, and in such wild country there were naturally no villages or inns nearby. After several days of dry rations, Ming Li did not much mind, but Jin Pingyue could scarcely bear it any longer. That evening a wild hare had happened to run past; she caught it on the spot, built a fire, and meant to vary their fare. In any case, they were far enough from Fenxia Valley that there was no fear of discovery.

Only now it appeared that although Jin Pingyue's cultivation was high, she had no experience of roasting game in the wild. After several attempts her technique was still poor, and she had scorched the food black. Now, with Ming Li standing before her and Little Grey crouched on the ground, one man and one monkey—four eyes in all—fixed upon that charred hare's leg. Jin Pingyue actually blushed; slowly she drew the stick back and moved away from the fire.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak…" Suddenly a strange sound arose—the monkey Little Grey was grinning broadly, sprawled on the ground with its tail held high and wagging to and fro, its right hand clenched in a fist and pounding the earth again and again, as though it could not contain itself. It had actually struck a pose beyond all imagining.

Jin Pingyue and Ming Li were both taken aback, and a moment later both understood. Beyond her astonishment, a flicker of anger crossed Jin Pingyue's face. As for Ming Li, he had not known that this monkey, who rarely left his side, could have learned such an outlandish trick of mocking people—and from where? He glanced at Jin Pingyue, cleared his throat, and with a light kick of his left foot sent the grey-furred monkey, still pounding the ground, tumbling away.

Little Grey rolled off like a gourd, yet the "squeak squeak squeak" still carried from afar.

Ming Li and Jin Pingyue exchanged a glance, and the mood between them turned somewhat awkward. Ming Li looked at the stick in her hand, then moved a stone over from beside him, sat down on it, and said to Jin Pingyue, "Give it to me."

Jin Pingyue started at his words. Ming Li's face was placid; he reached out and took the stick from her hand, first tearing away the charred portion, then setting it back over the fire and turning it slowly to roast. His way with the fire was of course vastly different from hers: the flames licked and leaped, the stick turned lightly, and before long a faint, elusive fragrance began to drift through the air.

Jin Pingyue raised her eyes to glance at Ming Li. In the firelight, his face—usually somewhat pale—had taken on a ruddy glow, and in his deep black eyes were mirrored two small, burning flames.

A man concentrating wholly on roasting meat for her…

Suddenly the air fell silent; no one spoke again. Jin Pingyue slowly withdrew her gaze, picked up a few dry twigs from beside her, and fed them to the fire. The flames crept higher and swallowed the twigs, and now and then came the "crackle-pop" of them bursting.

Out among the distant treetops, as though a night wind had passed, came the soft rustle of leaves and branches, settling upon the heart.

Little Grey had scampered back at some point, several wild fruits in its hands—clearly gathered from the woods just now. It walked to the fireside, looked around, plopped down at Ming Li's feet, and stuffed the fruit to its mouth, chewing vigorously, while its long tail swayed and at last curled gently around Ming Li's ankle.

Thus they passed a long while in silence. The fragrance in the air grew richer and richer; the hare above the flames was gradually beading all over with fat that dripped slowly down, glistening and glossy, and the sight was enough to make one's mouth water. Jin Pingyue could not help stealing several more glances at it.