劍問蒼天 - 第9章 傳藝 - 翰墨軒

"Zhang Qingyue!"

The shout was sweet-voiced, yet it struck like thunder. Zhang Qingyue woke with a start. He opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into a gaping maw and two rows of pointed fangs. He let out a shriek of terror. "Aaah!"

"Giggle giggle giggle..." A peal of laughter came from behind.

It took Zhang Qingyue a good while to collect himself. Only then did he realize that what loomed before him was a large yellow dog, fully half a man's height, its coat a gleaming, glossy yellow, sprawled on his own bed. Behind the dog stood Tian Lingsu, dressed head to toe in tight-fitting red, bent double with laughter.

Zhang Qingyue stole a glance at the great beast. Its frame was massive, its fangs sharp, a long tongue lolling out of its mouth; it looked thoroughly ferocious. He had never seen a dog that size before, and a thread of fear crept into his heart. Then he looked at Tian Lingsu's beaming face and murmured, "Senior sister, what is it?"

"What is it?" Tian Lingsu repeated with a smile. Then her expression abruptly hardened; her brows knit, and she said loudly, "It's broad daylight and you're asking me what is it? Get up this instant. You and I are going up the mountain to cut bamboo."

Zhang Qingyue blinked, puzzled. "You're coming too?"

"Of course I am, you idiot. Every disciple of this branch spends his first three years hacking 'black-joint bamboo' on the mountain. I started when I was ten, and this is my last year. Hey—are you still lazing in bed?"

Zhang Qingyue hurried to answer, then carefully edged around the big dog and slipped off the other side of the bed, fumbling his clothes on in a flurry.

Tian Lingsu called out, "Catch," and tossed a billhook to him.

Zhang Qingyue caught it in both hands. It was an ordinary woodcutter's billhook, and surprisingly heavy in the hand. Once he was ready, he said to Tian Lingsu, "Senior sister, shouldn't we bring Senior Brother along?"

Tian Lingsu shot him a look. "Didn't you hear me? Only new disciples have to do chores. It's just you and me cutting bamboo today. Now come on."

With that she beckoned. Before Zhang Qingyue could move, the big yellow dog on the bed suddenly sprang up, leapt down, wagged its tail, barked "woof woof" twice at him, bared its teeth in a show of ferocity, and bolted out the door.

The bark sounded familiar to Zhang Qingyue. He recalled hearing several barks yesterday when he returned with Senior Brother—this must be the same big yellow dog. He thought to himself, "The Canglan Sect really is something. Even a dog they keep for fun is much bigger than any in our village."

He followed Tian Lingsu out of the room. The hour was still early, the morning young; stepping out into the covered corridor and looking toward the rear mountain, he saw wisps of mist still drifting faintly among the peaks.

Thus the two of them and the one dog set off for the rear mountain of Dazhu Peak.

Yesterday, carried in Song Dayi's arms, the slope had seemed just a short stroll away, the path easy. But today, walking it himself, he had gone barely halfway before the grade grew steeper and steeper, and the distance proved far longer than he had imagined.

By contrast, Tian Lingsu beside him—not using that "Amber Vermilion Silk" of hers today—still walked with effortless ease, her small red figure flitting along the mountain path, light as could be. And the big yellow dog needed no mention at all: it was bursting with energy, darting ahead one moment, racing behind the next, now and then plunging into the woods by the path on who knew what business, then emerging a while later from some other spot with a rustle of leaves and branches, looking altogether thrilled and sprightly.

After another half hour or so, Zhang Qingyue was gasping hoarsely, his legs aching, worn to the bone.

Tian Lingsu, walking ahead, took one look at him and snorted. "Useless. Stop and rest a bit."