Chapter 180 — Gloom
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 1 of 6
Canglan Mountain, the Great Zhu Peak.
Many days had passed since the end of the Battle of Qingyun, and the battlefield that had once turned the heavens and earth pale was gradually growing quiet. Every trace of the fighting was being quietly erased as people cleared away the wreckage.
No one knew how many had lost friends and kin that day, and on Jietian Peak the corpses had piled so high that, from summit to foot, it was nearly like the underworld of legend.
Perhaps by good fortune, the Great Zhu Peak lineage—the sparsest in numbers—had not lost a single disciple in this great battle, though almost every one of them bore wounds. Even Tian Buhui, who had remained behind on Great Zhu Peak to activate the Heavenly Mystery Seal, looked utterly spent. Among the disciples, the second, Wu Dayi, and the fourth, He Dachuan, were the worst hurt; even now, after all these days, they were still bedridden. But luckily they had suffered no injury to sinew or bone, and after Tian Buhui examined them himself, all they needed was quiet rest. In time, their cultivation would not be hindered.
Yet in spite of all this—and in spite of having just snatched a narrow victory from the Beast Sovereign in a desperate battle, turning back the tide of calamity that threatened the world—the mood up and down the Great Zhu Peak lineage was strangely oppressive. For days the disciples had been unable to raise their spirits, and even Tian Buhui had worn a locked brow day after day.
Early that morning, a disciple had come from the Sect Master, Dao Yan, to summon Tian Buhui to Jietian Peak for a council. When he returned at noon, his round, plump face was dark and glowering, his brows twisted so tightly they seemed never to come undone again.
Around midday, Tian Buhui ordered every disciple of Great Zhu Peak to come to the Hall of Guarded Stillness; even Wu Dayi and He Dachuan, still bedridden, were helped there by his command and seated to one side.
The Hall of Guarded Stillness, usually so quiet, was for once full to the last seat. Tian Buhui's wife, Su Wan, also stood beside the head seat. She was still a beauty, but white cloth bandages were wrapped about her left hand—she too, of course, had been wounded in that great battle.
Tian Buhui paced back and forth across the hall with his hands behind his back a few times, glanced at the disciples arrayed in a row, some seated and some standing, and said in a low voice, "I've called you here today for no other reason—it's still about that ancient sword, the Immortal Slayer."
The disciples' faces turned grave, but few showed surprise; clearly most of them had already guessed. Tian Buhui exchanged a glance with Su Wan at his side, then looked back at the disciples. "This morning the Sect Master summoned me again, and the only one summoned with me was your Martial Aunt Shui Yue of Lesser Zhu Peak. As for what was said, you can all likely imagine: the matter of the Immortal Slayer's destruction must be kept secret at all costs—not a single word may leak out."
The disciples of Great Zhu Peak looked at one another. At last the eldest, Song Dayi, coughed and said, "Master, you know us well enough. In a matter of such consequence, we would sooner die than breathe a word of it to outsiders." Here he hesitated, glanced at Tian Buhui, and lowered his voice. "Master, quite apart from the fact that you and our mistress have already warned us twice and three times—counting this time, the Sect Master and Jietian Peak have now sent word down four times. Could it be… could it be that they don't trust us, and that they don't even trust you and our mistress?"
Tian Buhui's brows knit, and he suddenly barked, "Insolence! What are you, to dare recklessly speculate about the Sect Master and your elders?"
Song Dayi's expression changed, and he bowed his head. "Yes. This disciple was wrong."