Chapter 15 — Divine Power
劍問蒼天 · Page 4 of 6
Qi Hao hurriedly answered, tugged at Lin Jinghong, who was still peering back toward the hall, and the two of them gathered up their immortal swords. Not daring to linger, they took to the air and departed.
*********************** The disciples, seeing that Tian Buhui had flown into a thunderous rage, scarcely dared breathe. Zhang Qingyue especially—glimpsing for the first time Tian Buhui's wondrous divine powers, he was filled with awe, so much so that he nearly forgot the wound on his chest. In his distraction he jarred it, and with a yelp of "Aiya!" he cried out, grimacing in pain.
Hearing Zhang Qingyue's cry of pain, Tian Buhui looked toward him. Zhang Qingyue gritted his teeth, forced himself to endure, and lowered his head. Tian Buhui regarded him for a moment, but said nothing more, and instead looked one by one at the disciples standing in a row to one side.
Everyone lowered their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.
Tian Buhui sighed deeply, shook his head slightly, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked toward the rear hall. Su Wan, standing to one side, watched her husband's retreating figure, then said gently to the others, "You may go now."
The disciples answered, and Tian Lingsu went up to help Zhang Qingyue to his feet. Together with the others, they went out. When everyone had left the Shoujing Hall, Su Wan went alone into the rear hall. Passing through the door, she saw Tian Buhui standing on the covered walkway, staring blankly at the green bamboo in the courtyard.
Su Wan walked over to her husband's side and said softly, "What made you so angry today?"
Tian Buhui shook his head slightly. Instead of answering, he asked, "When Ling'er was fighting Lin Jinghong just now, and Qi Hao congealed ice into a wall to block the Zhanlong Sword—did you see clearly?"
Su Wan sighed. "He did not summon the Cold Ice Sword."
Tian Buhui gave a snort. "At the last great trial of the seven lines, Qi Hao still needed the power of his immortal sword and treasures to congeal an ice wall. I never thought that in only a few short decades he would have cultivated to such a level." Here he turned to look at Su Wan. "You were watching from the side just now—where would you say his cultivation has reached?"
Su Wan said calmly, "When he cast his arts he was unhurried and still had strength to spare. He has reached at least the eighth level of the Yuqing Realm."
Tian Buhui's lips moved, as though he would speak and then thought better of it—but Su Wan finished the thought for him: "Among the disciples of Dazhu Peak, there is not one who is his match."
Tian Buhui looked deeply at his wife, then slowly turned his head and gazed at the courtyard full of green bamboo, which, as winter drew near, was gradually withering and turning yellow. Unwittingly he fell into a daze.
After a long while, he suddenly said, "How is Old Seven doing?"
Su Wan looked at him, a faint smile at the corner of her mouth. "How should he be doing? He was beaten until he spat blood by you, great immortal that you are!"
Tian Buhui seemed to choke on that. His squat, round body shifted, but he did not turn around. "Tonight take a Great Yellow Pill and go see him," he said mildly, "so he doesn't play dead tomorrow and leave us with nothing to eat."
Su Wan smiled and said nothing.
*********************** Night fell, and the sky darkened.
Zhang Qingyue walked slowly back to his quarters and pushed open the door. The monkey Xiaohui, who had followed at his heels the whole way, was the first to dash into the room, and after him came the big yellow dog, which in a single day had already grown inseparable from Xiaohui. Monkey and dog romped endlessly about the room, a chorus of "wang wang wang" and "zhi zhi zhi" rising and falling.