劍問蒼天 - 第235章 陰謀 - 翰墨軒

At last the little path came to its end. Jin Pingyue stepped forward, then stopped short, a flicker of bewilderment crossing her face. She turned to Cangyan Daoren. "What—this is the Heavenly Secret Lock?"

Cangyan Daoren's face betrayed nothing; he gave only a faint nod.

What lay before the two of them was no radiant immortal treasure glowing with auspicious light, nor any solemn and magnificent hall or tower. Before coming here, Jin Pingyue had imagined it a thousand times over, yet never in any of her fancies had she guessed that the legendary site of the Heavenly Secret Lock would take such a form as this.

Before her lay an utterly ordinary earthen pit...

If there was any distinction to it at all, it was merely that the pit was rather large and rather deep—a great earthen pit—but seeing the weeds run riot within it and the soil caving in on its sides, it looked in every way like nothing more than a common earthen pit. How could this have any connection to the sword formation that slew immortals, a thing renowned throughout the world?

For a moment Jin Pingyue still found it hard to accept, but Cangyan Daoren at her side had already leaped down. Standing at the bottom, he beckoned to her. Jin Pingyue sighed and jumped down as well.

Leaping into the pit, her feet coming to rest on the solid earth at its bottom, Jin Pingyue caught the rich, heavy smell peculiar to soil, for earth surrounded her on every side. She glanced upward and found the pit surprisingly deep; from above it had seemed nothing much, but down here she discovered that its rim stood a full man and a half in height.

The earth within the pit was not so hard and easy to walk as the path had been; it was somewhat softer. Fortunately there had been no wind or rain these past days, so the soil was still fairly dry and firm, not so much that every step plunged her deep or left her stumbling—though potholes and uneven ground were unavoidable.

Jin Pingyue followed behind Cangyan Daoren, walking deeper into the pit. The ground here sloped inward, and the farther down they went, the more the trees around them and the distant peaks, glimpsed by looking up, seemed to grow in stature, while a sense of her own insignificance gradually welled up in her heart.

This somewhat strange feeling reverberated within Jin Pingyue, making her genuinely uncomfortable; but fortunately, though the pit was large, it was not boundless. Soon Cangyan Daoren came to a halt, and Jin Pingyue stopped as well.

They now stood at the very center of the great earthen pit. The soil lay scattered and churned all around, and in the middle several mounds had been heaped together to form a small earthen hillock, upon which a cylindrical log of wood—three chi long and one chi wide—was thrust slantwise into the earth.

Cangyan Daoren gazed silently at the log, which was plainly of great age, and said nothing; only a strange light flickered through his eyes. After a moment, without a word, he made to step forward. But just then Jin Pingyue called out from behind him: "Daoist, wait."

Cangyan Daoren turned to look at Jin Pingyue. "What is it?"

Jin Pingyue said, "Let me take a look at the surrounding scene."

Cangyan Daoren was taken aback and said nothing, while Jin Pingyue raised her eyes and gazed upward, slowly turning on the spot. Though they were already high upon Dragon Ridge Peak, the steep and perilous reaches of the peak still thrust abruptly into the sky, rising far above this place—and in more than one spot.