Chapter 19 — Reunion

A flicker of surprise crossed Lin Jinghong's face. "You do not know? Disciples of our generation are not permitted to fly on swords near the main hall of Jietian Peak. I heard Senior Brother Qi Hao say that this is first to show respect for the head branch—at the sacred ground of Yuqing Temple one must ascend on foot; and second, so I hear, in the early days of the Canglan Sect, Patriarch Qingyun, to protect this place, set up an exceedingly powerful restriction atop Jietian Peak called the 'Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation.' Anyone who dares fly into the airspace above Jietian Peak without leave will inevitably be slain by it."

Zhang Qingyue was startled. "No wonder there are so many masters among our fellow disciples, and yet not one is flying on a sword. By the way, is that 'Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation' powerful?"

Lin Jinghong looked toward the peak towering ahead. "I have never seen it myself, but I imagine it is exceedingly powerful. I hear the formation was handed down from Patriarch Qingyun, and a thousand years ago Patriarch Qingyun perfected it further, until its might was peerless. Since then I have never heard of anyone daring to run wild on Mount Canglan."

Zhang Qingyue followed his gaze to that majestic, towering peak and sighed in admiration. "How formidable!"

So the two of them walked on, talking as they went, crossing the Rainbow Bridge with the rest of the several dozen. Along the way Zhang Qingyue looked over these young elites of the Canglan Sect: of the sixty-odd, men made up the greater part, and of the female disciples there were perhaps only thirteen or fourteen, most of them in the attire of Xiaozhu Peak. Yet be they men or women, nearly every one of them had an uncommon bearing—the men dignified and commanding, the women beautiful and gracious; handsome men and lovely women met the eye everywhere. Anyone who saw them would say the Canglan Sect had successors worthy of it, and a bright future.

Past the Rainbow Bridge lay the Bishui Pool, where dwelt the Canglan Sect's guardian spirit beast, the Water Qilin. Unlike five years ago, when Zhang Qingyue and Lin Jinghong had first arrived, this ancient and exotic beast—reverently called "Spirit Sovereign" by the sect's disciples—was not hiding in the pool but had long since sprawled on the open ground by its edge, basking in the sun. Yet to judge by its languid air, it was no different from five years before.

The Qingyun disciples came down from the Rainbow Bridge, bowed one by one to the enormous creature, then mounted the steps by the pool and headed for the lofty main hall of Yuqing Temple. Lin Jinghong and Zhang Qingyue followed at the back of the crowd, and Lin Jinghong whispered to Zhang Qingyue, "Do you remember what happened when we first came?"

Zhang Qingyue nodded, still shaken by the memory. "I remember. We got soaked through—but that was nothing. Seeing such a huge monster scared me half to death."

A faint smile crossed Lin Jinghong's lips. "Exactly. Back when we lived in Liumiao Village, when had we ever seen anything like that? I thought the biggest animal in the world was the bears on Mount Canglan."

Zhang Qingyue burst out laughing, and for a moment everyone turned to look. Startled, he quickly stifled his laughter. Lin Jinghong was startled too; he coughed twice, his face slightly red.

The others glanced at them a few times, then turned and walked on. Only then did Zhang Qingyue breathe a sigh of relief. He turned to look at Lin Jinghong, their eyes met, and both smiled knowingly.

The several dozen ahead soon passed by. Zhang Qingyue and Lin Jinghong came down from the Rainbow Bridge, reached the edge of the Bishui Pool, and bowed respectfully to the Water Qilin. But from the start this Water Qilin seemed to be sleeping especially soundly, reacting to no one's salute; at this moment it lay with its head buried, snoring like thunder, and was ten to one unaware that these two young Qingyun juniors were bowing to it.

Zhang Qingyue and Lin Jinghong had never expected the Water Qilin to pay them any mind. After their bow they mounted the steps. Zhang Qingyue said, "Jingyu, last time you came to Dazhu Peak you were in such a hurry that I never got to congratulate you. I never imagined that in only a few years you would attain such a level of cultivation."

Lin Jinghong smiled. "All thanks to the earnest teaching of my master, Master Cangsong, and my senior brothers." Here he paused, and his voice gradually sank low. "In truth, in those first years, whenever I applied myself, I would think of that pile of blood-soaked corpses in Liumiao Village, and my heart would ache—so I hardened my resolve and cultivated diligently, hoping that one day I might avenge my parents and the people of the village."

A pang went through Zhang Qingyue's heart, and he reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. Lin Jinghong steadied himself, gathered his feelings, and smiled. "Enough, let us not speak of the past. And you? How has your cultivation gone?"

Zhang Qingyue shook his head. "You know I was never as clever as you, even as a child. These years on Dazhu Peak, my master and my senior brothers have all been very good to me, but I am too dull, and my progress in cultivation has been terribly slow. I have let my master and my senior brother down badly."

Lin Jinghong snorted. "How are you dull? I say it is nine parts that dwarf master of yours deliberately making things hard for you, refusing to pass on the true cultivation methods of the Canglan Sect."

Zhang Qingyue had not expected that after that quarrel two years ago, Lin Jinghong still harbored such a grudge against Tian Buhui. He smiled. "He would not. My master is not that sort of man. Never mind, let us not talk about me. By the way, is your treasure still that 'Dragon-Slaying Sword' from two years ago?"

Lin Jinghong nodded and smiled. "That divine sword is the supreme treasure of the Long Peak branch. My master, in his great kindness, passed it to me. Besides its immense power, the sword has a spirit of its own and is of enormous help to my cultivation."

Envy rose in Zhang Qingyue's heart and showed on his face. "That is the best of all."

Lin Jinghong smiled and asked in return, "And you, Xiaofan? Do you have any treasure of your own?"

Zhang Qingyue froze for a moment, then instinctively reached into his robes and touched the blackened "Dark Iron Rod." A thread of coolness, faint as a whisper, crept into his palm.

"No," he said quietly. "My cultivation is not deep enough. I cannot yet wield a magic artifact."

Lin Jinghong did not seem to mind; he had clearly expected as much, and consoled him: "It is nothing, Xiaofan. So long as you cultivate diligently, you will surely succeed. We are young yet—let us simply treat this trip as a chance to see the world."

The corner of Zhang Qingyue's mouth twitched. He looked at his old friend's kindly face and listened to his gentle words, yet felt not the slightest comfort.

To see the world?

Everyone thought he had come here only to see the world. At the thought, an indescribable anger suddenly surged in his heart, blazing like a fire deep within him—yet in the next instant it scattered and was gone. He lowered his head and said nothing. He did not even have it in him to blame his friend, because he himself thought the very same thing.

As though answering his thoughts, the Dark Iron Rod in his robes—still in contact with his palm—suddenly stirred. In an instant its cold qi surged, spreading from his hand straight up to his shoulder.

Zhang Qingyue was greatly startled, but then found that the sensation did him no harm at all; on the contrary, it was cool and rather pleasant. He glanced to the side, and saw that Lin Jinghong had noticed nothing.