Chapter 257 — Summoning
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 1 of 11
……
At the foot of Cang Lan Mountain, the ruins of Liu Miao Village.
The sun rose and the sun set; day turned to night and night to day, yet Lu Xueling had entirely lost count of how many days she had been here. The longing and the bone-deep devotion of more than ten years seemed to have broken free of all restraint at once—she could not, and no longer wished to, endure it. Every day and every night she had to be at that man's side, to stay with him—and if there was a future, then until the end of time.
Ming Li—no, Zhang Qingyue, she supposed she should call him—at least in Lu Xueling's eyes, had never changed. And now that gaunt, sorrowful man was gently cradled in her arms, still wearing that motionless, bewildered look.
Over these days Lu Xueling had tried every method she could think of to rouse Zhang Qingyue from the nightmare of his inner demon, and without exception every one had failed. In the end she had temporarily given up the attempt. Perhaps she alone could truly understand the wounds that Ming Li's heart had suffered at this moment.
So she no longer tried to wake him, only sat quietly beside him, holding him. The two of them sat just so amid the ruins of Liu Miao Village, where weeds grew everywhere, watching the sunrise at dawn, watching the sun sink at dusk, watching the bright moon climb into the sky, watching the scattered stars. The wind of the wild swept past, carrying the fragrance of the green grass all around, and brushed gently across their faces.
Somehow—perhaps with a trace of guilt, a sense of wrongdoing in her heart—Lu Xueling nonetheless truly felt a kind of happiness from the depths of her being. To be with the one she loved: such a simple thing, yet she had endured ten years of it, borne a weight like a mountain, and in a moment like this she had finally broken free of every bond, cast off every fetter, all for him.
A light breeze drifted by, bringing a touch of coolness.
Another night had fallen.
The two of them leaned against the broken wall, sitting quietly. In the wild grass nearby something rustled twice, as if some strange creature were there, but Lu Xueling did not spare it another glance. Sure enough, a moment later the figure of Xiao Hui burst out of the grass, bounded a few times with a hop and a skip, and leaped up onto the broken wall against which Lu Xueling and Zhang Qingyue leaned, and sat down.
The cloth strips Xiao Bai had once used to bind his wounds were all gone; the exposed injuries were mostly healed, and it seemed the monkey had torn them off himself. Now the monkey sat on the broken wall, spread both hands wide, and there was another great heap of wild fruit; he scattered them carelessly, and a good many came thumping down, most of them striking Lu Xueling and Zhang Qingyue.
Zhang Qingyue was blank and gave no reaction. A few struck Lu Xueling on the head as well—not painful, but hardly dignified, and quite at odds with her usual frosty air. Lu Xueling glanced at the wild fruit fallen to the ground, then raised her head and looked at the monkey on the broken wall. Xiao Hui at once sprang up and retreated a few steps, his eyes full of vigilance—though he still clutched several wild fruits in his hands and stuffed them into his mouth to chew.
Whether or not it was because the monkey and Lu Xueling did not get along, at any rate in Xiao Hui's eyes it seemed to sit ill with him that Zhang Qingyue was being held by this woman in white. He had witnessed Lu Xueling's cultivation for himself, however, and so though he made provocative gestures, he still kept a certain wariness.
Just as Xiao Hui's three eyes were fixed on Lu Xueling, that woman in white—who had always seemed to hold herself aloof from all things human—suddenly smiled at him. That smile was like spring warming into bloom, like a gentle spring breeze; not a trace remained of her former coldness toward others.