Chapter 131 — Parting
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 6
The Great Shaman said mildly, "You know as well as I that according to the legend handed down through the generations of our Miao people, only the Xuanhuo Mirror and the Eight Ferocious Xuanhuo Formation can suppress the beast demon. As things stand, not only is the Xuanhuo Mirror not in our hands—even if we seized it from that young man, I fear no one could wield it; and as for the strange and unfathomable Eight Ferocious Xuanhuo Formation, still less does anyone know of it. So in such circumstances, that young man is truly the only hope of all living things on our Southern Frontier. Even if I die in a foreign land, I must go with him, hoping only that before I die I may save the life of his friend, and that he will remember this kindness and one day lend aid to all our Miao people."
Tu Magu's lips trembled slightly; the wrinkles on his aged face ran deep, and unknowingly a few tears seeped out. Facing the Great Shaman, he slowly bowed his body down and pressed his forehead to the cold ground.
The Great Shaman smiled, a trace of desolation in his expression too. "After I go, do not trouble yourselves over me. If that young man has a heart, he will likely bring my bones home. The affairs here will rest entirely on you."
Tu Magu did not raise his head. In a low voice, faintly choked, he said, "Great Shaman, rest assured."
The Great Shaman said gently, "This journey of mine means death, and in truth it is nothing much. But you in the Southern Frontier will face fierce storms and high waves in days to come. The other four tribes do not know the height of heaven or the depth of earth, and seeing our Miao in decline, they will likely kick a man when he is down. And in the Ten Thousand Wild Mountains the beast demon may revive at any moment; a great calamity is coming. You bear a heavy burden—take good care of yourself."
Tu Magu gritted his teeth and gave his assent.
The Great Shaman rose slowly, cast a glance around, and suddenly spoke again. "If in the future things truly grow desperate—though Qili Tong is the place where our Miao people have lived for generations, it is not beyond forsaking. So long as the people live, there is hope for the days to come."
Tu Magu's face paled a few shades more. Slowly he said, "Yes."
The Great Shaman gave a long sigh and walked slowly outward.
When that stooped figure, supported by Tu Magu and followed by Ming Li and Xiao Bai, came down from the altar on the mountainside, not many people noticed.
But as the sound of footsteps carried, the figure of the Great Shaman—who had not appeared in the streets of Qili Tong for longer than anyone could remember—was at last noticed by the Miao folk. With shouts of joyful surprise rising one after another, more and more Miao dropped the work in their hands and gathered around.
The Great Shaman smiled and waved continually to the Miao around him, but never once did he stop his steps, walking steadily toward the exit of Qili Tong.
At last the Miao began to sense that something was wrong. In the crowd, voices began to call out loudly in the Miao tongue; though Ming Li and Xiao Bai could not understand them well, they could guess what the Miao were crying.
The Great Shaman's face seemed somewhat desolate too; upon that weathered countenance the smile gradually faded, replaced by what was unmistakably grief.
Only he remained silent.
Only he waved.
Slowly he walked on.
Tu Magu too had halted, standing at the front of the crowd, silently gazing at that stooped figure.
By now cries of alarm and weeping had risen into a din; many were thrown into panic, and more still had fallen to their knees before the old man receding into the distance.
Ming Li, walking behind the Great Shaman, looked silently at the old man and was startled to find that upon that aged face, at some unknown moment, tears were streaming.
At last they reached the passage leading out of the valley, and behind them the sound of weeping filled the whole valley.