Chapter 152 — Unfilial

Master Shuijing said slowly, "And moreover, Zhang Qingyue has now betrayed the orthodox path and fallen to the demonic through blood-devouring. His deeds these ten years past—need I say more to you? Let me speak plainly: your affair with him is by now the talk of every corner of the land, and even your sect master, Senior Uncle Daoyan, has learned of it. It is only that these elders, first, have been mindful of your youth and ignorance, and second, have pitied your rare talent and the difficulty of your cultivation—and so they have given you chance after chance. Do not persist in your delusion!" Toward the end Master Shuijing's words came faster and faster, and her voice grew steadily sterner.

Lu Xueling's face grew ever paler, yet somehow her body quieted, no longer trembling faintly as before.

Master Shuijing's expression slowly softened. She turned, raised Lu Xueling to her feet, and said gently, "Qi'er, you are my most beloved disciple. Among your fellow disciples—indeed among the younger generation of all seven branches of the Canglan Sect—your gift for the cultivation of the Dao is the highest, and your future truly knows no limit. My hopes for you are great. Do you know that?"

Lu Xueling said softly, "Yes, Master."

Master Shuijing looked at her. "With your gifts, the position of head of Xiaozhu Peak will naturally be yours in time. Then you will be revered by all, calmly comprehending the way of heaven. Is that not what you once dreamed of?"

Lu Xueling was silent, only lowering her head slightly. On her lovely face, aside from its pallor, there was only the slowly shifting light in her bright eyes—where, at some point, the mist of tears had vanished.

Master Shuijing sighed. "Go back and think it over carefully."

Lu Xueling stood before her. Hearing this, she did not at once turn to leave, but slowly raised her head and looked at the master who had raised her with her own hands.

"What is it, Qi'er?" Master Shuijing asked.

"Master," Lu Xueling called slowly, "I have wronged you."

Master Shuijing shook her head and sighed. "What foolishness is this?"

Lu Xueling's expression seemed somehow amiss; on her usually cold face there appeared a rare flicker of agitation, and even her breathing slowly quickened. Master Shuijing noticed at once, frowned, and looked at her. "What is it, Qi'er?"

It was as though great waves had risen in Lu Xueling's heart, so that her face shifted like wind and cloud. But at last she said slowly to Master Shuijing, in a low voice, "Master, you are right. I have indeed been foolish. Between Zhang Qingyue and me—I know it too—there was never any possibility. It is a doomed bond."

A flicker of sorrowful pity crossed Master Shuijing's eyes, and she said gently, "Qi'er, repent and all is not lost. If only you cut the threads of feeling, there is nothing so terrible about it. At the least, there is still your master, still Xiaozhu Peak, still the Canglan Sect to take you in."

Lu Xueling jerked up her head—so swiftly and with such force that it startled anyone to see. On her clear, lovely face was now nothing but anguish and desolation, and even her voice seemed to tremble. "Master, but I cannot cut them."

Master Shuijing's expression changed drastically. She stared hard at Lu Xueling, then suddenly her hand rose and fell—smack—a heavy slap across Lu Xueling's face. Lu Xueling did not dodge, did not retreat; she stood rooted to the spot, only biting her lip tightly, her body slowly trembling.

"You—what did you say?" Master Shuijing's voice seemed to tremble too, but it was filled through with wrath. "You—you wicked disciple, do you know what you are saying?"

Lu Xueling's face had long since gone white past any trace of blood, but meeting Master Shuijing's gaze, as though her resolve were now fixed, she said resolutely, "Master, you took me in as a child and raised me, taught me, kept me—no kindness could be deeper. Xueqi is unfilial, and has made her master angry and grieved. For that I deserve ten thousand deaths..."

Her white robes stirred, and once more she knelt before Master Shuijing. "Rather than betray my master and the orthodox path, Xueqi would sooner die. Should I meet that Zhang Qingyue hereafter, your disciple will do her utmost to take his life with the Celestial Dipper; and if I fail, then let me die by his hand..."

Master Shuijing had at first been all wrath, but when she heard Lu Xueling say she would not betray the orthodox path and would fight Zhang Qingyue to the death, her face eased somewhat—yet what Lu Xueling said next changed her countenance once more.

Kneeling before her master, Lu Xueling drew a deep breath and lowered her gaze to the ground before her, as though looking also into the depths of her own heart, and said slowly, "But this one strand of sinful feeling—your disciple cannot cut it. It cannot be cut!"

The room fell instantly into a dead silence, as though even the sound of breathing had stopped. A moment later, Master Shuijing's sharp, furious scolding rang out, echoing through the hut:

"You—you wicked disciple, get out! Get out! I never want to see you again!..."