Chapter 62 — The Demonic Cult
劍問蒼天 · Page 4 of 7
That figure—so entranced, so intoxicated—and in his daze it was youth again, green hills and clear waters, and happy, joyous laughter echoing out and away.
Suddenly his heart opened, and laughing, he flung wide his arms; the black iron staff bloomed with a pale blue-green light and bore him up, chasing her, flying through this ancient and peaceful forest.
As though this time, too, would go on like this, and never end...
The sky, for some reason, seemed suddenly to have grown somewhat overcast, and thick clouds gradually gathered in the heavens.
Zhang Qingyue withdrew his gaze, thinking that this place beyond the seas was, after all, different from the Central Plains: a moment ago it had been a clear day with high skies and pale clouds, and in the twinkling of an eye it seemed about to turn to gloom.
He and Tian Lingsu had flown a long while through the dense forest, and had not seen so much as a single follower of the Demonic Cult. At last, in a small hollow among the hills, Tian Lingsu spotted a little stream below; and having flown half the day, she was somewhat weary, so she called Zhang Qingyue down, and now they were washing their faces in the stream.
The stream wound its way through the ancient forest, shallow and clear, and in its water were many round pebbles, glimmering faintly as the limpid ripples stirred—very lovely. On either bank, beyond a few sandy shoals, farther off, was dense forest again, and at a glance this forest seemed to stretch on without end.
"Xiaofan." Tian Lingsu suddenly called out. Zhang Qingyue turned to look at her, and saw that she had been washing her face only halfway when she spotted a very pretty stone in the stream; she reached out and picked it up, and turning to Zhang Qingyue with delight, she said: "Isn't this stone pretty?"
Zhang Qingyue glanced at the stone. It was no bigger than a thumb, but upon it were three-colored veins of stone, running roughly and evenly around it like ribbons—truly rather pretty. He smiled, and raising his head to look at Tian Lingsu, was about to answer, when suddenly his mouth fell slightly open and he could not speak.
That familiar, beautiful face was gazing at him with a smile. The clear stream water from her washing had not yet been wiped away; glittering drops lay lightly upon her fair face, and now and again one could see them, tenderly, slide down her skin, pass the side of her cheek, and linger still beneath her smooth, soft lips, until at last, with a touching grace, they fell softly.
And upon those bright, limpid eyes, along the edges of her long lashes, several drops of water still clung, as though they were tears—yet like white pear blossoms after rain, so fresh and lovely.
Tian Lingsu said in reproach: "I asked you a question!"
Zhang Qingyue came to himself. "What?"
Tian Lingsu held the stone up before his eyes. "Isn't it pretty?"
Zhang Qingyue drew a deep breath, and said low, as though the words were torn from the deepest place in his soul: "It is beautiful!"
Tian Lingsu nodded and smiled. She took a silk handkerchief from her bosom and wiped the drops from her face, then carefully wiped the stone as well and put it in her bosom; then, turning to Zhang Qingyue with what in his eyes was the most beautiful smile in the world, she said: "When we go back in a little while, I will give this stone to Brother Qi. He is sure to like it!"
The sky over the Liubo Mountains seemed, in that instant, to darken a little more.
Zhang Qingyue stood there as though suddenly frozen, his head bowed, motionless.
Tian Lingsu walked a few steps forward, and feeling no sound behind her, turned her head and saw that Zhang Qingyue was still standing in the same place without moving. Surprised, she said: "Xiaofan, come on!"