Chapter 76 — The Fourth Chapter
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 1 of 8
Crossing the threshold, he was met at once by an air of solemn majesty. The holiest place in the Canglan Sect remained as imposing and awe-inspiring as ever, enough to strike a man dumb with wonder.
Many people stood and sat within the vast hall, yet somehow the first thing Zhang Qingyue's eyes fell upon was none of them, but the three statues of the Three Pure Ones at the farthest depths of the hall, seeming so distant there in the shadows.
Before the hall, the lit candles and incense burned in silence, sending up thread after thread of faint smoke.
At the center of the hall, upon the seat of honor, sat the revered and venerable Perfected One Daoyan, a man of crane-bone and immortal bearing; beside his seat stood a small tea table, and laid upon it was none other than Zhang Qingyue's own magic artifact, the Black Iron Staff.
In a row to his right hand were the seats of the various branches of the Canglan Sect; everyone, Tian Buhui included, was seated there. The elders and disciples of the sect's other branches sat or stood behind them. Those they knew well—Qi Hao, Lin Jinghong, and the rest—were all present too, and Lu Xueqi now stood silently behind Master Shuijing, and beside her stood Wen Pei, whom Song Dayi adored; her bright eyes rippled with feeling as she gazed at Zhang Qingyue's figure.
To the left hand of the Perfected One Daoyan were many people Zhang Qingyue had never seen before: kindly-faced monks, and old men with gloomy countenances. Zhang Qingyue's gaze swept over them and picked out only a few familiar faces; among them were Facheng and Fajing of the Fanyin Temple, both standing respectfully behind an old monk seated at the very top. It seemed this kindly-featured old monk must likewise be one of the Fanyin Temple's divine monks.
Chang Jian led Song Dayi, Zhang Qingyue, and Tian Lingsu over, and made a bow to the Perfected One Daoyan. "Master, Junior Brother Zhang of Dazhu Peak has arrived."
A stir ran through the surrounding crowd, and every gaze swept over at once; not only Zhang Qingyue but Song Dayi and Tian Lingsu too were left somewhat ill at ease.
Su Wan, seated beside Tian Buhui, frowned and said to them, "Come and stand here."
Song Dayi and the others breathed a sigh of relief, answered, and walked over—and just at that moment, Daoist Cangyan, seated above Tian Buhui, gave a sudden cough.
The muscles in Tian Buhui's face twitched, and the corner of his eye quivered faintly, but at last he said coldly, "Old Seven, you stand there. The sect leader and the various seniors have questions for you."
Zhang Qingyue's foot, just lifted, might have struck a wall; he stopped dead, and only after a long moment said in a low voice, "Yes."
Song Dayi and Tian Lingsu exchanged a glance, then looked at Zhang Qingyue, worry in both their eyes; but in the end they knew this was no time for it, and could only walk obediently over and stand behind Tian Buhui.
The Perfected One Daoyan looked down without expression, and saw a youth standing all alone between the two ranks of people, a faint nervousness and fear in his eyes, his hands clenched into tight fists.
Was this truly the orphan of ordinary talent from Liuzhu Village all those years ago?
Deep in his heart, he sighed.
"Zhang Qingyue," the Perfected One Daoyan called slowly.
Zhang Qingyue's body seemed to tremble faintly; he slowly knelt and said in a low voice, "This disciple is here."
The Perfected One Daoyan looked at him and said, "These seniors beside me are all masters of our righteous path, and they have come this time on your account as well. This is the Venerable Monk Pucheng, abbot of the Fanyin Temple; seated beside him is the Venerable Monk Pukong, likewise of the Fanyin Temple; and there is Shangguan of the Fenxia Valley..."