劍問蒼天 - 第15章 神通 - 翰墨軒

Tian Buhui rose to his feet and looked Lin Jinghong up and down, his face contorted with fury. "Fine skill!" he said coldly. "Fine killing intent!"

Qi Hao lowered his voice and said to Lin Jinghong, "Junior Brother, apologize at once."

Lin Jinghong was young and full of fire. His brows knitted, he stepped forward—but it was to Zhang Qingyue, standing to one side, that he spoke. "Xiaofan, I was in the wrong just now. We said we were only testing our cultivation against each other, but I struck without restraint. I'm sorry."

Zhang Qingyue was truly worried for his friend, yet all he could say was, "It's—it's nothing."

The faces of everyone from Dazhu Peak had changed. Tian Buhui's anger burned hotter still. Suddenly he stepped forward, and a flash of red qi swept across his face.

Qi Hao's expression shifted dramatically. Unlike Lin Jinghong, he had been in the Canglan Sect long enough to know that although the Dazhu Peak line was far weaker than the other six, its master Tian Buhui and his wife Su Wan possessed truly astonishing divine powers, and no line had ever dared treat them lightly. Even the lofty Daoist Cangyan, who looked down on all beneath him, had warned him before they left: Tian Buhui was narrow of temper but immensely advanced in cultivation, and his wife Su Wan was a renowned talent of the Canglan Sect as well. Even the Sect Leader, Daoist Daoyan, showed the couple a measure of respect—so unless it was absolutely unavoidable, do not provoke him.

Lin Jinghong, however, knew none of this—though from the look of him, even if he had known, he likely would not have cared. Young as he was, his pride ran deep, and it was surely Daoist Cangyan's doting indulgence that had spoiled him so.

Tian Buhui grew only angrier at the sight of him, and was about to act when a figure flickered—Su Wan had already appeared at her husband's side and caught his arm. A faint smile played at her lips as she said softly, "A man your age, quarreling with a junior of the same sect—what kind of sight is that?"

Tian Buhui started, and checked himself. Qi Hao hastily stepped in front of his junior brother and said with an ingratiating smile, "Martial Uncle Tian, in your great magnanimity, please, for the sake of our master, do not stoop to the level of us juniors."

Seeing Lin Jinghong provoke his master, Zhang Qingyue was frantic with worry. In his eyes, Lin Jinghong—orphan of Liumiao Village like himself—was like his own brother. When he saw Qi Hao plead on Lin Jinghong's behalf, his heart swelled, and he could not help running out to kneel before Tian Buhui. "Master, it was all your disciple's fault. When I saw Jingyu—no, Senior Brother Lin—arrive on his flying sword, I wanted to see his cultivation, and that's why I made a move. It was all your disciple..."

Tian Buhui was already simmering with frustration, a head of anger he could not vent, and had barely forced it down. Qi Hao was one thing—but now here was this Zhang Qingyue kneeling before him too, babbling away, looking utterly foolish. Nameless fire surged in his chest. "Shut up, you worthless thing!" he roared.

As he spoke he flicked his sleeve. Zhang Qingyue felt a fierce wind strike his face, and suddenly his body went weightless—a gale raged on every side, above and below, as though all the air around him had vanished at once, and his head swam. Then a vast force came surging like a tidal wave, and his whole body was hurled backward against his will, straight toward the wall at one side of the Shoujing Hall. With a great "bang!" he struck the wall square on and crumpled to the ground. In that instant Zhang Qingyue's head spun and his vision blurred; a sweetness rose in his throat, and with a "wa!" he spat out a mouthful of blood.

Everyone in the Shoujing Hall was struck dumb.