Chapter 220 — Convergence
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 6
From the very first moment Xiao Wan laid eyes on Xiao Bai, her heart had given a stir. She was ordinarily rather conceited about her own beauty, but faced with Xiao Bai's peerless, world-topping looks—that beauty which bewitched all living things, and especially that faint, indescribable allure that seemed to hang lightly at the corners of her eyes no matter how cool and unassuming she appeared—such mature grace was something Xiao Wan could never hope to match.
Her heart was already three parts won over, and Xiao Bai being moreover the benefactor who had saved the three of them, she felt all the more warmly toward her. Now, questioned thus by Xiao Bai with a faint smile, she felt the woman's gaze soft as water, and though she herself was a woman, she could not help her heart giving a thump, its beat quickening a little, so that even her speech came out slightly nervous and stammering: "Ah, wh-what?"
Zhou Yixuan and the Wild Wolf Daoist, standing nearby, were both somewhat surprised and looked at Xiao Wan. Xiao Bai smiled and asked again. Xiao Wan steadied herself, silently cursed herself, then lowered her eyes to the ground and said, "This I know. The one who helped us—his Daoist attainment was very high. What he used was an immortal sword magic treasure, three feet long from end to end, reddish-yellow in color. When he wielded it, its power was truly beyond measure, like a ball of crimson flame."
"Crimson Flame!"
Suddenly a cry—startled, tinged with a measure of delighted surprise and tension—came from the entrance to the mortuary courtyard. All four in the yard were taken aback and turned to look, and there, unmistakably, stood a woman in white, clear and ethereal beyond the dust of the world, a pale blue immortal sword in her hand, its radiance flowing—a treasure of the highest grade at a glance. And this woman's looks seemed well-nigh a match for Xiao Bai's, another peerless beauty of the mortal world.
Who else could it be but Lu Xueling of Xiaozhu Peak on Canglan Mountain?
At the foot of Canglan Mountain, the ruins of Liumiao Village.
Beneath broken walls and shattered eaves, amid the wild grass, the fitful chirping of insects rose and fell unceasingly, adding a further desolation to this forsaken place.
The night was deep. Black clouds pressed down upon the vault of heaven, and only a few stars, faintly glimmering, still stubbornly showed their heads and let fall a little light.
In a certain corner of the village, beside a half-collapsed earthen wall, Ming Li sat silently on the ground, his back to the wall. Beside him the monkey Xiao Hui lay sprawled on the ground, its head pillowed on Ming Li's thigh, limbs splayed every which way, snoring soundly.
Ming Li did not sleep. His eyes remained open, silently fixed upon every blade of grass and every tree around him, every inch of earth, every broken wall and crumbling eave.
This was his homeland, the place where the first years of his life had been spent. But time had slipped quietly away, and all of it had in the end become memory, leaving only this stretch of ruins to draw a sigh of lament.
But what is a man alive for?
Ming Li gazed at everything around him, then slowly raised his head and looked up at the night sky.
The curtain of night hung low. Somewhere beyond the horizon, were there truly gods and immortals, demons and Buddhas, who could hear the heart's voice of the people of this world?
The monkey Xiao Hui's mouth moved a few times, giving a few "tsk tsk" sounds. It turned over, rubbed its head a few times against Ming Li's thigh, and went back to sleeping soundly.
Perhaps it was dreaming of the wild fruit it loved best to eat?
Ming Li withdrew his gaze and let it fall on Xiao Hui. He reached out and gently stroked the little monkey's head; the downy fur was soft to the touch and carried a faint warmth.