Chapter 174 — The Man in Black
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 5 of 6
And in that delay, the man in black, like a ghost or a phantom, had already clasped Ming Li and swiftly vanished into the darkness ahead. And Zeng Shuchang, locked in fierce combat in the dark, now suddenly gave a great roar; somewhere in the shadows a man grunted, and a flash of blood-light appeared.
The crowd was greatly alarmed, unable to tell whether Zeng Shuchang had been wounded or had wounded his foe. Their master's kindness weighed heavily upon them, and at such a moment they could not hold back; they all rushed forward. But they had gone only halfway when Zeng Shuchang's figure darted out from the shadows, landed on the ground, and barred their way. By the look of him, though he moved without hindrance, his steps were still somewhat unsteady, and he was gasping for breath in great gulps—this brief spell of fierce fighting seemed to have drained him utterly.
Once his breathing had steadied a little, he at once said in a low voice: "The foe ahead is of exceedingly high cultivation, and there are no few of them. You must not be rash!"
Zeng Shuyan and the other young disciples all felt a chill at heart; they had never imagined they would meet with such a situation in such a place. Zeng Shuchang stared into the mass of darkness ahead and said in a deep voice: "Who are you, sirs, and why do you meddle in the affairs of our Canglan Sect? Given your cultivation, you must be no nameless nobodies—why not show yourselves and talk?"
The wind raged and the rain lashed, lightning flashed and thunder rolled; yet somehow the darkness deep in the dense forest was so thick and heavy, like ink that would not be thinned in the slightest.
No one answered Zeng Shuchang's question; there was only the sound of wind and rain and the panting of the Qingyun disciples. Zeng Shuyan quietly stepped forward and said in a low voice: "Father, what is their background?"
Zeng Shuchang shook his head slightly and said under his breath: "They are deliberately concealing their identities; the arts they use are not their own. For the moment I cannot tell."
As he spoke he frowned, then raised his voice and shouted: "Will you not show yourselves, sirs?"
The voice echoed far into the dense forest, but in the end no one answered. Zeng Shuchang's expression suddenly changed, and he stamped his foot: "Confound it—we have been tricked!"
With that he sprang forward, his immortal sword blazing with light. This time the radiance shot straight out in all directions, and no shadow remained to shroud them—plainly those men had all withdrawn. They came like the wind, snatched their man, and were gone: clearly they had long since laid their plans and reckoned it all out beforehand.
Zeng Shuchang gave a long sigh and settled back to the ground. Zeng Shuyan, while directing the other disciples to keep searching the surroundings in the hope of finding some clue, asked Zeng Shuchang in a low voice: "Father, what is it?"
A trace of disappointment rose on Zeng Shuchang's face, and he sighed: "The clash just now was brief, but I sensed vaguely that these men were not using the demon cult's arts. And besides, if men of the demon cult were rescuing Ming Li, they would have no need to hide and skulk. But then, who would want to save this demon, and in such numbers, and with such cultivation?"
Having spoken, he knit his brows and sank deep in thought. Zeng Shuyan said nothing, and turned to look ahead; the dense forest stood dark and forbidding, and the way before them was all darkness—what could be seen there?
Who, then, were those men who had carried Ming Li off? But whatever they were, Zeng Shuyan thought secretly to himself as he walked on, it was surely better than falling into the hands of the Canglan Sect...
So he mused, and on this stormy night, in the deep dense forest, there seemed to rise again in his mind the memory of how Ming Li had looked ten years ago, when he first saw him at the Heaven-Reaching Peak of Canglan Mountain.