劍問蒼天 - 第107章 魔陣 - 翰墨軒

You Si's body gave a start. She saw that the Nether King's expression was placid, revealing nothing of his thoughts, yet somehow a sudden turmoil rose in her heart. She and Azure Dragon had secretly slipped into the Death Marsh, and she had seen most of the subtle, unspoken something between Ming Li and Lu Xueling. Yet thinking of it now, she felt a strange, nameless ache.

Like a sharp needle piercing her heart.

"What is it?" The Nether King turned his head and looked at You Si.

You Si slowly lowered her head; because her face was veiled in black gauze, none could see her expression. After a moment, her voice, somehow hoarse, still answered the Nether King clearly and coldly:

"Yes. There is indeed something ambiguous between him and Lu Xueling of the Canglan Sect. With my own eyes I saw him, outside the Heavenly Emperor's Treasure Vault, face the Blackwater Mystic Serpent and risk death to save that woman's life!"

The Nether King said no more, but within moments the smell of blood around them suddenly grew tenfold, a hundredfold thicker. The man still stood with hands behind his back, but whether lit by the red glow from below the cavern or not, the red light in his eyes blazed up fiercely.

You Si slowly bowed to the Nether King, then turned and walked back, slowly leaving that cavern which seemed to stifle the breath.

But she had no sooner reached the stone door than she suddenly froze. Azure Dragon stood quietly outside the door, gazing at her calmly.

You Si met his gaze, and the two stood looking at each other thus, saying nothing for a long while.

After a time, Azure Dragon slowly stepped forward, brushed past her, and walked deep into the cavern, leaving You Si alone, standing blankly in the tunnel.

From first to last, he did not say a single word to You Si.

Over the southern border, a hidden moon hung alone in the western sky.

In the deep mountains, at an ancient temple, insects chirped mournfully—a scene of desolate, somber gloom.

"Whoosh!"

With a whistle and a flash of light, Lü Shun came flying on his sword and alighted in the courtyard of the ancient temple. His eyes gleamed sharply as he scanned the temple hall inch by inch.

He had just searched the surrounding ten li by sword and found nothing—not a single soul. Thinking it over, he had suddenly realized that this ancient temple was the very place he had overlooked.

The night wind was cold; the abandoned hall had lost even its doors, though not long before, Lü Shun had been inside talking with someone. But now it looked suddenly grim and eerie, as if something in the darkness were watching him.

A cold sweat suddenly broke out on his palms.

The monster with the fish head and human body that had just died was the chief of the southern barbarian Fish-Man tribe. To have been assassinated at the very moment he was meeting with Lü Shun—Lü Shun could hardly escape responsibility. He knew well that the southern barbarian tribes had secret dealings with his own sect, and better still how terrible and cruel those barbarians could be. If he did not give the barbarians an accounting this time, he feared he would have much to suffer.

But from what he knew of the southern barbarians, these fish-men were formidable fighters. Though they were still no match for cultivators of his own profound attainment, to kill one in a single stroke—the assassin's arts must be no less than his own.

Lü Shun drew a deep breath and suddenly called out loudly, "Which master is it? Come out and speak."

"Speak... speak..."

The night wind carried the echo of his words drifting softly through the temple, but the hall remained utterly silent, without a sound.