劍問蒼天 - 第84章 遠行 - 翰墨軒

His voice cut off abruptly; from deep in the darkness came what sounded like the roar of some demon beast, and a thick stench of blood at once closed in around them. The wild dog shuddered with dread.

After a long while, the aura slowly receded; the man in front was silent for a great while in the darkness before he said mildly, "That name—I forgot it many years ago."

The wild dog let out a long breath, but could not help asking again, "Then what am I to call you from now on?"

There was no answer; the man walked on, and the wild dog muttered a few words under his breath—whether curses or not, it was hard to say—but he followed nonetheless.

Ahead of them lay still the endless darkness.

Canglan Mountain.

This immortal mountain, wondrous and mysterious in the eyes of the world, remained after ten years as fair as a paradise on earth.

The destruction wrought by that great battle between righteous and demonic had long since been repaired and made new—only, who could say whether the wounds left deep in the heart had ever healed?

In the great battle ten years past, Daoist Shang Zhenglian of Zhaoyang Peak and Daoist Tianyun of Luoxia Peak had met their ends, and Daoist Cangyan of Long Peak had turned traitor. Apart from Sect Master Daoist Daoyan, half of the six peak masters were gone—a grievous blow to the sect's very lifeblood.

Now Zhaoyang Peak and Luoxia Peak had both seen elders of the sect take up the master's seat; only the Long Peak line, because of Daoist Cangyan, found itself unable to lift its head within the Canglan Sect—once second only to the main line, it had fallen low. And when the line held its own internal nomination, it came out unexpectedly that Qi Hao, of the younger generation, had been chosen to take the master's seat.

And as though it were a trend, across the various factions of the Canglan Sect the younger generation was given ever more chances to come forward: Zeng Shuyan of Fenghui Peak, Song Dayi of Dazhu Peak, Wen Pei and Lu Xueqi of Xiaozhu Peak—all were already handling more and more of their elders' affairs.

Even within the main line, in recent years Daoist Daoyan had gradually withdrawn from worldly matters, entrusting daily trifles to his favored disciple Xiao Yichen.

Behind Jietian Peak, at the Ancestral Hall.

Soft sunlight fell upon the towering hall, lending it a solemn and mysterious air. Within, the hall remained dim; the ever-burning lamps and the faint glow of scattered incense and candles still honored the countless ancestral spirits of the Canglan Sect.

On the open ground before the Ancestral Hall, Lin Jinghong sat alone cross-legged, eyes closed. The Dragon-Slaying Sword, shedding a jade-green radiance, floated gently above his head, casting a circle of green light that enveloped him and flashed with strange mystery in the sunlight.

Gone from his face was its former innocence; in its place were endurance and the marks of time.

Behind him, deep in the shadows of the Ancestral Hall, two eyes watched him quietly. After a time, a figure slowly stepped forth.

It was the mysterious old man with the deeply wrinkled face. He emerged slowly from the shadows, sat down on the steps of the Ancestral Hall, and kept his gaze upon Lin Jinghong; after a long while he said mildly, "That will do."

At those words the Dragon-Slaying Sword's jade-green light withdrew; Lin Jinghong drew a deep breath, opened his eyes, and stood up. Turning to the old man, he broke into a smile and said, "Senior!"

The old man looked at his young face, and a faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Your natural gifts are truly fine, and you work so diligently besides; your progress has far surpassed what I expected."

Gratitude flitted across Lin Jinghong's face; he bowed deeply and said in a low voice, "Senior's great kindness and virtue, this disciple will never forget so long as he has teeth in his head."