Chapter 127 — Heart's Intent
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 6
Unwilling to become entangled further, Xiaobai seized the chance to turn and flee—but no sooner had she moved than dazzling blue light filled her vision, and a piercing "hiss, hiss, hiss" flooded heaven and earth, sweeping down from all sides. It was Lu Xueling's divine sword Tianxuan. Xiaobai's face turned cold; suddenly she reached out and plunged her hand straight into the myriad sword rays. With a clear, ringing "zheng," Lu Xueling's sword radiance vanished, astonishment on her face, and Tianxuan returned to her hand.
Xiaobai did not hesitate further. Clutching Ming Li, her form suddenly turned ghostlike and vanished from midair. The crowd was greatly startled; a moment later someone spotted the white shadow speeding like lightning toward the far bank of the river and shouted aloud.
Xiaobai darted into a wooden hut. Moments later, before the crowd could arrive, she flew out through the window—and on her shoulder, besides Ming Li, there was now a small grey shadow: the still soundly sleeping monkey, Xiao Hui...
By the time the crowd arrived, Xiaobai's figure had already vanished without a trace. The righteous cultivators cursed and raged, but most were secretly alarmed—this nine-tailed celestial fox's cultivation was so profound that she truly could not be underestimated.
At that very moment, the fighting in Qili Tong had finally died down completely; all that remained was a sea of roaring flames and the bitter weeping of countless Miao common folk.
In the distance, the wounded chieftain Tumagu was shouting at the top of his voice, leading a band of men racing up the mountain—clearly to check on the Great Wizard's injuries. And halfway up the slope, people had already gathered around the Great Wizard; cries came drifting from afar.
The crowd returned to the original spot. Everywhere around them the heat and flames roared; the crackling of fire devouring wood rose and fell without cease, and charred crossbeams kept crashing down—a scene of utter desolation.
Facheng shook his head with a sigh, his face full of compassion. He flew first into the sea of fire to help the Miao folk fight the flames. Moved by his example, the other disciples of Fenxia Valley followed one after another.
Only now did Li Xun feel the pain in his right hand ease somewhat. It seemed that so long as he circulated his power to resist it, there was no great harm; only then did he set his mind a little at ease and breathe a sigh of relief.
Just as he hesitated over whether to follow and help fight the fire, a voice suddenly came from behind him. "Brother Li."
Li Xun started and turned. Lu Xueling had sheathed Tianxuan and held it in her hand; her white robes still fluttered in the firelight. The blood-red handprint on her collar was all the more glaring—and she seemed in no mind to conceal it.
At this moment her face was cold as ever, gazing calmly at Li Xun.
Li Xun felt inexplicably ill at ease under her look. "What is it, Sister Lu?"
Lu Xueling regarded him in silence. After a long while she said slowly, "That wound on Ming Li's right shoulder—was it you who dealt it with the Jade Ruler?"
Li Xun's mouth suddenly went dry. After a moment he said frankly, "Yes."
The hand Lu Xueling used to grip Tianxuan tightened for an instant; across her fair skin, a faint bluish tinge seemed to surface. Yet her face remained white as snow and cold, without the slightest expression.
She gave a slight nod and turned to walk away.
Sudden, inexplicable anger rose in Li Xun's heart. "Sister Lu, what do you mean by that?"
Lu Xueling's steps paused. Beneath the blazing flames all around, her white figure seemed about to catch fire itself.
"Fine ruler technique! Truly formidable!"
The faint voice drifted over from the figure with her back turned, who had not looked back—word by word, very slow, very slow, and utterly clear.
Li Xun was suddenly struck mute.