Chapter 74 — Two
劍問蒼天 · Page 1 of 6
On Dazhu Peak of the Canglan Mountains.
Zhang Qingyue sat blankly in his room, staring into nothing.
It was a bright, sunny afternoon; soft light poured in through the window and spilled across the bluestone floor. Perhaps because the air itself carried a trace of laziness, the big yellow dog and little grey monkey in the room seemed listless as well.
Big Yellow lay sprawled at Zhang Qingyue's feet, its head buried on its forepaws, eyes half shut, ears drooping; of its whole body, only the glossy-furred tail gave an occasional flick.
And the monkey Little Grey, usually so restless, now leaned against Big Yellow, using its belly as a pillow, eyes closed, sleeping soundly, its body rising and falling faintly with the breathing of Big Yellow's belly.
On this tranquil afternoon, it seemed everything was exactly as it had always been.
Zhang Qingyue's gaze drifted vacantly toward some nameless distance. This was already the third day since his return to the Canglan Mountains.
Suddenly, as if sensing something, the drowsy Big Yellow lifted its head, opened its eyes, and even its ears pricked up.
Zhang Qingyue frowned, and then heard slow footsteps outside the door; a moment later, with a creak, the door was pushed open.
Sunlight flooded in, momentarily blinding; Zhang Qingyue could only see a figure standing in the doorway, bathed in the light.
By the time his eyes had adjusted somewhat, his face went pale at once, for there stood Tian Buhui in the doorway, his face dark as a storm cloud.
This was the first time in three days that Tian Buhui had come to see him, and the first person besides his eldest senior brother Song Dayi, who brought him his meals, that he had seen at all; no doubt everyone else had been forbidden to visit by Tian Buhui's strict order.
By now Big Yellow had already run over, its tail wagging furiously, rubbing back and forth against Tian Buhui's legs in obvious delight. But the other animal, Little Grey, was not so well disposed; roused from a pleasant dream, it looked rather put out, chittering twice—though in the end it knew very well that Tian Buhui was not someone it could afford to provoke, and so did not dare make a nuisance of itself.
After a few cries, Little Grey wobbled back onto Zhang Qingyue's bed, flopped down on the quilt, and went back to sleep.
Tian Buhui bent down, glanced at Big Yellow at his feet, reached out and stroked its head; Big Yellow gave a low bark or two and nuzzled its head against his palm.
Tian Buhui patted the dog's head, straightened up, and looked toward Zhang Qingyue.
Zhang Qingyue did not dare meet his gaze. "Master," he said in a low voice.
Tian Buhui regarded him for a long while without answering, then walked slowly closer; Zhang Qingyue instinctively retreated a step.
But Tian Buhui made no move, only slowly sat down in a chair. Zhang Qingyue felt some fear, but more than that a blank bewilderment, not knowing what to do. In truth, ever since returning to the mountain he had expected to face such a scene, or worse—to face interrogation and reprimand from many more people—and he had long since steeled himself for it.
Yet on this warm, quiet afternoon, when Tian Buhui—whom he had revered all these years as a god—sat silently before him, he could only hang his head low, his mind a perfect blank, unable to utter a single word.
How long passed, he could not say, before he heard Tian Buhui say slowly, "Old Seven."
Zhang Qingyue shuddered and answered almost by reflex, "Yes, Master."
"Is there anything you wish to say to me?"
Zhang Qingyue slowly raised his head and looked at Tian Buhui; Tian Buhui regarded him without expression, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
After a long silence, Zhang Qingyue slowly shook his head.
Tian Buhui stared at this disciple; the hand hidden in his sleeve slowly clenched into a fist.