Chapter 256 — The Spirit Tablet
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 8 of 10
Lin Jinghong's heart was in utter turmoil. Though he was not among the core figures of the Canglan Sect and so was not privy to the inner truth as the master and disciples of Shuiyue on Xiaozhu Peak were, he had nonetheless been present on the day the True Man Dao Yan and Tian Buhui clashed in the Ancestral Hall. And afterward the two of them had vanished together; now Tian Buhui was dead, and the True Man Dao Yan had silently returned to this place. The twists and strangeness of it all sent a chill creeping through him.
Yet for all Lin Jinghong's amazement and unease, the True Man Dao Yan across from him seemed not to care in the least. His gaze rested on Lin Jinghong only a moment before it turned toward the grand Ancestral Hall.
The True Man Dao Yan gazed at that hall for a long while, then suddenly said, slowly: "Are you the only one here now?"
Lin Jinghong started, then nodded: "Yes."
The True Man Dao Yan glanced at him, and his gaze suddenly fixed—it had fallen upon the Dragon-Slaying Sword hanging at Lin Jinghong's waist. The emerald sword-light flowed gently; though its old master had gone, it still carried that singular air of pride, standing aloof from all else.
The emerald radiance was mirrored in his eyes, and the True Man Dao Yan's expression shifted with it, slowly giving way to a look of bewilderment and deep thought. Lin Jinghong's mind was in chaos—he did not know whether he ought to leave at once for the front mountain and report to the masters of Jietian Peak, or to stay here and keep watching.
But the True Man Dao Yan gave him little time to think. That strange expression quickly vanished, replaced by an indifference, and he said lightly to Lin Jinghong: "You stay here. Without my order, let no one enter." With that, not waiting for an answer, he strode off straight into the dim, shadowed hall of the Ancestral Hall.
Lin Jinghong stood frozen where he was, at a loss, able only to watch the True Man Dao Yan's figure vanish into the darkness.
Once inside the inner hall and past the first blindness of the dark, what met the True Man Dao Yan's eyes was the great offering table at the head of the hall and, behind it, countless spirit tablets. A solemn and reverent air pressed in upon him; here the successive generations of Canglan Sect patriarchs stood, watching the figure of the True Man Dao Yan coldly and in silence.
The True Man Dao Yan's body trembled faintly, as though something within him had stirred and was causing him no little pain, but he quickly mastered it. He walked slowly to the offering table, took up the sandalwood incense from it, lit it at the candle flame nearby, then went to stand directly before the table. Facing the spirit tablets of the patriarchs of past generations, he slowly knelt.
In the dim light his face too seemed to shift between bright and dark; only the small warmth of the burning incense sent up a faint thread of smoke.
"Patriarchs of the Canglan Sect, one and all, your unworthy disciple Dao Yan..." His voice was low and hoarse, and the hands that held the incense seemed to tremble faintly, as though his heart were so stirred that he broke off halfway and could say no more.
His head sank deep, and he prostrated himself before the countless spirit tablets. In the vast, grand hall, a wind arose from somewhere; the surrounding draperies began to stir gently, and even the candle flames on the offering table flickered, now bright, now dim.
Suddenly the prostrate True Man Dao Yan convulsed. By some force he brought to bear, the three sticks of sandalwood incense in his hands were in an instant silently crushed to powder by an immense pressure, and at that same moment a mass of black qi began to seep from the True Man Dao Yan's body, churning violently, spreading ever wider, until it looked about to swallow his whole form.