Chapter 79 — Seven
劍問蒼天 · Page 1 of 6
In the back hills of Mount Canglan there were two places of great consequence. The first was the Canglan Sect's most sacred ground, the Phantom Moon Grotto-Heaven, where a thousand years ago that peerless genius, Patriarch Qingye, had shut himself away in meditation and comprehended the Way—and from that time forth the Canglan Sect had stood above all under heaven, leader of the assembled heroes.
After Patriarch Qingye, the Phantom Moon Grotto-Heaven became the holiest place of the Canglan Sect; for a thousand years, only the sect master might enter it.
The other place was the Ancestral Hall.
As the name suggests, it was where the successive patriarchs of the Canglan Sect were enshrined. From Canglanzi, founder of the sect, to Patriarch Qingye, to the generations of forebears after them, all had their spirit tablets here, and incense never ceased to burn by day or night. Moreover, on every important occasion the Canglan Sect would gather here under the sect master's lead for a grand ancestral rite—so it too counted as a place of no small weight within the sect.
Yet apart from the days of ancestral worship, it was utterly desolate. When Lin Jinghong drew those four demon cultists after him and ran into this place, he saw only a vast open ground upon which stood a hall of imposing grandeur—upturned eaves at its four corners, glazed tiles upon its roof, antique plaques and crimson pillars, all seeming to tell, in that stillness, of the history of days gone by.
Wispy threads of smoke drifted from the deep and somewhat gloomy interior. From outside one could see only scattered points of candle flame within, and the long-burning lamps swaying faintly where they hung in midair. But apart from an old man in plain clothes silently sweeping before the hall, not a single soul was to be seen.
Just then, hearing hurried footsteps, the old man slowly raised his head and looked their way.
Regret welled in Lin Jinghong's heart. He had only meant to lure these demon cult followers away from the Phantom Moon Grotto-Heaven, never expecting to stumble into the Ancestral Hall. Here rested the spirit tablets of the patriarchs through the ages; should the demon cult defile them, he would deserve death ten thousand times and could never atone.
At that thought, Lin Jinghong halted at once, laid the Slaying Dragon Sword level before him, and turned to face the false Shangguan Lue and the others pursuing him.
At that moment, from the woods in the distance, a flock of birds suddenly burst startled into the air with a great clamor.
Lin Jinghong's heart lurched. That direction was where Zhang Qingyue was; he could not help but worry. Yet he knew the enemy before him was dire, and forcing his mind to still, he concentrated his guard, resolving in secret that even should he die here today, he would never let these demon cult wretches set half a step inside the Ancestral Hall.
The Slaying Dragon Sword seemed to possess a spirit of its own; its emerald light blazed, and against its master's face it made that resolve seem absolute.
The sweeping old man before the Ancestral Hall caught sight of the Slaying Dragon Sword in Lin Jinghong's hand, and his body suddenly trembled.
The four demon cultists exchanged glances and burst out laughing. These men clearly held no low station in the demon cult; at a glance they saw that this must be a place of importance to the Canglan Sect, and it seemed their venture would surely reap rich reward.
The false Shangguan Lue laughed smugly. "Little fellow, I see your aptitude is not bad. The Canglan Sect has run out of roads now; why not join my household? I guarantee you a future of glory and rise!"
"Bah!" Disgust rose in Lin Jinghong's heart. He gave a cold laugh and paid him no heed at all.
The false Shangguan Lue, strangely enough, was not angered. He sneered coldly. "Fine. Since you seek death, I shall oblige you!" With that he gave a signal, and the other three black-robed men attacked at once.