Chapter 28 — Perseverance
劍問蒼天 · Page 2 of 6
Zhang Qingyue lay fallen and senseless—but the words he had spoken before fainting left everyone on Dazhu Peak, from Tian Buhui down to the least disciple, dumbstruck. A moment later, Tian Buhui and the rest came to themselves and lifted Zhang Qingyue up.
Tian Buhui examined him closely: the little disciple's body was covered in wounds, almost as if it had been roasted over a great fire, but his inner organs were not seriously harmed; his fainting was most likely from sheer exhaustion. What exactly had happened in that contest, he could not tell. After a moment's thought, from the corner of his eye he saw more and more people turning to look their way, and he had no wish to stand there and be a spectacle. He gathered Zhang Qingyue into his arms and said quietly to Su Wan: "I'll take Old Seven back. You stay here and watch over Ling'er."
Su Wan's brows knitted tight, but she nodded; one glance at Zhang Qingyue's tightly shut eyes, and the anxiety on her face could no longer be hidden. The others of Dazhu Peak crowded around as well, and Du Bi said: "Master, let me go with you."
Tian Buhui shook his head. "No need."
By now even Daoyan Zhenren's attention had been drawn over. He said: "Junior Brother Tian, is this a disciple of yours? What has happened?"
Tian Buhui said flatly: "His skills are poor and he took some light wounds. I'll take him to be treated. Pray excuse me."
Daoyan Zhenren nodded, turned away, and looked again at the splendid duel upon the stage. As Tian Buhui carried Zhang Qingyue out through the crowd, the matter quickly subsided; the people were stirred once more by the two beauties on the stage. Only a few young disciples standing at the crowd's outer edge happened to notice that most of the disciples of Fenghui Peak had gone ashen, and were gathering in twos and threes and drifting off into the distance.
Had Zhang Qingyue been there, he would surely have recognized the place: it was where Zeng Shuyan had fought his match.
Beneath the Nine Hells, in the halls of Yama, great fires blazed on every side, scorching the people who wept and screamed; the stench of blood and char filled the air, enough to turn the stomach. Zhang Qingyue felt heaven and earth spinning—yet in a mere instant he was suddenly back many years before, in that peaceful little mountain village, the clear wind blowing, mild and pleasant.
Then a thunderclap pealed across the sky; dark clouds piled up like mountains, surging like the angry waves of a raging sea. In the blink of an eye, the kindly, familiar villagers became corpses heaped like mountains, and the tranquil little village became a hell on earth!
"No!"
He cried out with all his might, every muscle in his body drawn taut—and a piercing pain shot from his chest, making him gasp; his whole body shuddered, and he woke.
"Ah, he's awake—Xiaofan's awake." That voice, so familiar it seemed carved into the depths of his heart, rang out at once, carrying a note of worry and of joy. Zhang Qingyue opened his eyes and saw Tian Lingsu.
It was as if he had gone back to former days: she in her red robe, the amber-red silk still wound about her waist, her fine hair falling from her white neck, setting off her somewhat pale face—and those bright eyes, those pure pupils, in which Zhang Qingyue could even see his own reflection.
Senior Sister!—a cry from the depths of his heart.
Zhang Qingyue looked at her without so much as blinking. If only this moment could become eternity—how wonderful that would be!
In the room, the folk of Dazhu Peak had all gathered round. Tian Buhui stepped forward and took his pulse, then nodded: "Good. He's out of danger."
Only then did everyone breathe easy, and one after another they smiled in relief.
Zhang Qingyue glanced about him: the whole company of Dazhu Peak was there, and he himself lay on a bed in the room; his senior brothers stood on the floor, while Tian Buhui and Su Wan sat in chairs before the bed.
"Wh-what happened?"