Chapter 239 — Hope
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 5
The stone chamber where the Ghost King dwelt was spacious enough, of course, but it had been built within the belly of the mountain, and however spacious, it could not be very large. Xiaobai was no more than ten paces from the stone door. Watching her graceful figure walk toward it, the Ghost King, standing behind her, suddenly underwent a change of expression—a tangle of complex emotions, now murderous, now irresolute.
Yet Xiaobai's pace did not slow in the least. Ten paces, even at no great speed, are covered in a moment. The heavy stone door swung slowly open before her with a low rumble. She did not look back.
Her white garments wrapped her slender, full figure, fluttering gently.
And yet, in this stone cave within the mountain, where had the wind come from?
Behind her, all was silent—until the heavy stone door closed once more, separating her from that chamber.
Xiaobai stood in silence, drew a deep breath, and walked slowly along the empty corridor. As she went, her body, which had been secretly tensed a moment before, relaxed little by little.
There was still a trace of that strange mockery in her eyes, and none could say what she was truly thinking. But as her gaze swept the empty corridor around her, it suddenly fell upon the rough, deep cracks that ran along the stone walls. Then another cold smile of confirmation crossed her face.
She now knew the cause of that wrongness she had first sensed in the Ghost King's chamber. Throughout the caves of the Ghost King Sect in Fox Crag Mountain, these strange, mysterious cracks appeared everywhere—only in the Ghost King's chamber just now, the stone walls had been different.
Unblemished and whole!
Ming Li descended from the high sky, the little monkey Xiaohui still clinging to his shoulder and peering about. For the restless Xiaohui, there seemed never to be a quiet moment, and in that monkey's body the word "weariness" was nowhere to be found.
But though the monkey never tired, its master's face looked somewhat grave. Ming Li landed on the ground. In the distance rose the desolate heights of Fox Crag Mountain, yet for some reason he did not, as in former days, descend directly at the entrance to the Ghost King Sect's caves. Instead he landed at the mountain's foot and began walking slowly up.
Ming Li's manner was plainly grave; his brows were tightly knit. Perhaps even he had forgotten how long it had been since he last truly smiled.
There was a faint, heavy weight against his chest. Ming Li did not need to reach for it to know what it was—that mysterious treasure, the Universe Reincarnation Disc!
Never before had he heard that such a wondrous treasure existed in this world, still less that a wandering fortune-teller of the jianghu named Zhou Yixuan should know a secret so closely guarded that even within the Temple of the Sanskrit Voice it was kept hidden. Yet after a glimmer of hope had come, more than anything, worry, anxiety, and confusion. Even now he still could not fathom this treasure. And small wonder—the Venerable Master Pude, one of the Temple of the Sanskrit Voice's four great divine monks, had pondered it for decades without penetrating its secrets. How could Ming Li unravel the mystery in a few short days?
But what of Bili?
Ming Li stopped in his tracks and drew a deep breath. His expression was that of a man crushed breathless beneath a weight of a thousand catties. After a long while he suddenly gave a bitter laugh, and once more set off up the mountain.
How many people say that life is a dream—never knowing that in this world, whatever the dream, one must always face it in the end.
Unawares, he had reached the entrance to the main hall caves of the Ghost King Sect. Several disciples on watch at the gate caught sight of him, and at first they started; then, as though something had occurred to them, looks of great joy broke across their faces, and they all came running over.
"Deputy Sect Master, you've returned."