Chapter 45 — The Golden Bell
劍問蒼天 · Page 2 of 5
Zhang Qingyue shuddered. He had a vague sense that a soul still lingered in those eyes, watching him. But he went up to it all the same and slowly reached out to gather the scattered bones into a heap. A coldness passed from the bones to his hands, yet the dread was gone.
It was as though they were old friends of many years!
Deep in his heart Zhang Qingyue felt something like relief, the release of one who has done what ought to be done. Strange as it was, he truly felt it — and inwardly he thought: this dark iron staff is far too uncanny. If I get out of here alive, I must ask my master about it.
When he had finished, he was about to straighten up, and just then, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the place where the skeleton had sat. Because he had swept the bones aside, some writing had been faintly revealed. He could not help uttering a low "Eh?"
Bili, standing to one side, had been watching Zhang Qingyue's odd behavior with a cold eye. Hearing his sudden low exclamation, her curiosity was roused, and she came over to look. There, sure enough, a few lines of characters were carved.
The heart is bitter, and looks back unwillingly;
Too late for regret, too hard to abide together.
The golden bell rings clear — the blood-devouring goes astray;
A whole life, always...
By the fourth line the strokes grew weaker and weaker. The third "always" in particular was so scrawled that it could scarcely be made out, and at the last the brush trailed off in a single stroke and broke off there. Plainly, when the writer reached this point, he had no strength left to go on.
In the cavern, Zhang Qingyue and Bili were both silent. Both sensed dimly that behind these two passages there must lie a tale of heartbreak — a woman wounded in love, and in the end a man consumed with regret.
Zhang Qingyue was somewhat lost in thought. He had never seen these nameless lovers, yet somehow, a thousand years later, gazing on these traces — whether or not they could be called a final testament — he still felt sorrow.
Bili, standing beside him, was frowning deeply, her eyes fixed on the lines, murmuring, "The golden bell rings clear — the blood-devouring goes astray, the golden bell rings clear — the blood-devouring goes astray... Golden bell? Ah! Yes, the golden bell!"
As though she had hit upon something, she gave a glad cry, her face lighting up with joy. Zhang Qingyue was startled. "What about the golden bell?"
Bili seemed utterly thrilled, her face radiant. "It's Lady Golden Bell! Don't you know?"
Zhang Qingyue shook his head blankly. Bili snorted, shot him a glare, then said gleefully, "Lady Golden Bell was a great figure in our Holy Cult a thousand years ago! They say she was brilliant beyond compare, deep in the Way, and that she grasped the Holy Cult's classic, the Book of Heaven, with a great awakening of her own. She founded the Enchanting Spirit faction all by herself within the Holy Cult — a woman without peer among our sect!"
Zhang Qingyue's interest died at once. From what she said, he knew this Lady Golden Bell had been some figure of the demon cult a thousand years ago, who seemed to have been very formidable; but when he heard that the faction she founded was called "Joyful Union," he knew at once the old woman had been no good sort. Yet Bili seemed to worship this Lady Golden Bell.
Zhang Qingyue snorted and did not take up her words. He turned and rearranged the heap of bones he had disturbed in order to read the writing. But a strange thought rose in his mind: so you were a fool for love too. Perhaps you died for a woman as well!
The dead man of course gave no answer, but Zhang Qingyue's own idle fancies somehow made him feel still closer to the skull.