Chapter 257 — Summoning
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 9 of 11
He sensed it more clearly than ever: deep within the Phantom Moon Grotto-Heaven, some mysterious force seemed to be ceaselessly summoning him, calling him to that place.
This feeling had already been exceedingly strong back when he was still amid the ruins of Willow Temple Village!
Standing before the Phantom Moon Grotto-Heaven, Zhang Qingyue halted and gazed at this mysterious place before him.
From the outside, this stone cave looked no different from any ordinary mountain cave in the world—rough stone and hard ground; the only difference was perhaps that the ground before the cave entrance had been worn smooth by the tread of countless feet over the long years, a testament to the wind and frost it had weathered.
From that small stone gate had once walked Daoist Qing Ye, the peerless pride of the Cang Lan Sect's generation; countless figures who had dominated their times in bygone years had left their footprints here. This Phantom Moon Grotto-Heaven was in truth a witness to two thousand years of the Qing Yun Sect's rise and fall, glory and disgrace.
And now, before Zhang Qingyue stood nothing more than an ordinary stone cave.
He smiled and stepped inside, as if returning home, without the slightest hesitation or faltering.
The sunlight outside the cave was blocked by the stone walls and could not reach within, leaving the interior profoundly cool and shadowed. The humble scene was exactly as it had been the first time he came here; even the taiji diagram hanging on the wall was identical to before.
Zhang Qingyue walked over and placed his hand upon the taiji diagram. A faint, clear radiance flared to life—the true esoteric art of the Cang Lan Sect's inner lineage. Within that limpid glow the taiji diagram slowly stirred and brightened, and moments later, just as he had anticipated, the rock wall beside it slid slowly aside, revealing that strange gateway of white mist swirling like rippling water.
Zhang Qingyue gazed at those rotating ripples that seemed fathomless. The last time he had entered, the mysterious power contained within had stirred his inner demons and nearly plunged him into irrevocable ruin. Now, facing it once more, he felt as though some faint, devouring pull lurked deep within those profound waters, giving one the illusion of falling in.
He drew a deep breath, hesitated no longer, and strode forward through the gate.
A rush of coolness met him head-on, as though he had truly stepped into a world of deep water. Yet after a brief moment, Zhang Qingyue found himself, just as before, surrounded by a world of utter void and nothingness.
Darkness—boundless, endless, without light, without horizon. Little Grey, perched on his shoulder, grew uneasy, shifted, and gave two low calls. Zhang Qingyue gently reached up and patted the monkey's head as if to reassure it, and Little Grey quieted at once.
Then Zhang Qingyue gazed ahead, but in his eyes there was nothing save darkness. He looked for a long while without moving, until at last a faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth—and he closed his eyes and walked on.
He had taken only a few steps when the deathlike silence was suddenly shattered. With a thunderous roar, a blast of scorching heat rushed at him, and Zhang Qingyue could clearly feel himself as though stepping into a sea of fire, every inch of his flesh and skin seared by the sudden flames. Agony surged wildly from every corner of his body, and his whole frame seemed about to be destroyed within that inferno.
Yet he kept his eyes tightly shut—even as the muscles of his face twisted slightly from the ferocious pain, the faint smile still lingered at the corners of his mouth. Step by step, slowly but steadily, he pressed onward.