劍問蒼天 - 第16章 私傳 - 翰墨軒

Tian Lingsu said, "I know my father has always looked down on you, and today flying into a rage at you was simply senseless. Hmph—he can't even teach his own disciple properly, and then turns around and scolds you for it. I can't stand to watch it. You take this method and secretly practice it on your own. One day when you've made something of yourself, show my father—and never be disgraced like today again."

Zhang Qingyue frowned deeply. "But Senior Sister, if Master and Martial Aunt find out, won't they scold you?"

Tian Lingsu said impatiently, "Scold me, you say—at most they'll curse me a few times and shut me up in confinement for a while. So what? I can't just let you be bullied!"

Zhang Qingyue felt a shock run through his whole body, and a sudden heat surged in his heart. Looking at Tian Lingsu's lovely, upright figure, he could not utter a single word. In that moment his blood ran hot, and had he been asked to die for this girl before him, he would not have hesitated for an instant.

Tian Lingsu went on, "Remember to work harder, and try to fight that smug Lin Jinghong to a draw as soon as you can. Though no matter how much you practice, you'll never match Senior Brother Qi Hao—so don't even think about that." With that, she waved her hand and added a parting instruction: "Keep it secret!" Then she stepped out the door and vanished swiftly into the darkness.

"No matter how much you practice, you'll never match Senior Brother Qi Hao!"

Those words—thirteen of them—each struck Zhang Qingyue's heart like a blow. His face suddenly drained of color, and unconsciously he clenched the white paper in his hand.

The mountain rain fell pattering, and heaven and earth stood solemn. Who saw that youth in the night walk out into the rain and gaze up at the vault of heaven?

Morning, after the rain. The damp mountain wind carried a chill as it blew across the summit of Dazhu Peak. Zhang Qingyue came to the familiar kitchen and lit the fire to boil water.

The firewood crackled and snapped in the stove, the bright yellow flames dancing on the wood like frantic spirits and flushing his face red. Holding a slender stick of kindling like an iron poker, Zhang Qingyue poked at the fire in the stove now and again, staring blankly, lost in thought.

"No matter how much you practice, you'll never match Senior Brother Qi Hao!"

That sentence he had recited silently in his heart a thousand times, ten thousand times, and each time it wounded him anew. He knew it was foolish—his senior sister had meant no harm; she had merely spoken an acknowledged fact.

And yet he could not help thinking of it, thinking of it desperately, as if some wild, blazing fire burned within his heart, consuming his soul without end, until the flames seared his hand.

"Aiya!" Zhang Qingyue cried out, leaping back—while he had been lost in thought, the stove fire had caught the kindling in his hand and run up it, burning him.

Clutching his hand, he blew on the sore spot again and again, then ran to the water vat and plunged his hand into the cold water. A chill rushed back up through him, and Zhang Qingyue gave a low, bitter laugh. What he needed most right now was not anything else—it was an iron poker.

"Woo, woo, woo!" came a few calls from the doorway. Zhang Qingyue recognized Dahuang's voice, but could not understand how its usual "woof woof woof" had turned into "woo woo woo." He went to the door and looked out, and could not help laughing—Dahuang and Xiaohui were tussling, Dahuang with a short black stick in its mouth and Xiaohui gripping the other end and tugging with all its might. Neither would give way. Dahuang was barking, but with the stick in its mouth the sound came out muffled and indistinct, which was how it had become that strange "woo woo woo."