荒墟牧神 - 第33章 劍丹破空鳴 - 雲海書庫

The village was a morass of water, a ground strewn with sharp swords, so that there was hardly a place to set foot, and the corpses lying here and there lent the scene a weird, ghastly horror. The village head surveyed his surroundings, frowned, and said, "Lame Elder, go and tidy this up — lay them out decently in coffins, don't leave them exposed in the wild; send them down the river. Burn paper ingots, candles, paper boats, and paper cranes for them too." The Lame Elder hobbled forward, threw a glance at the Blind Elder, and said with a grin, "Sentimental old sod — still spouting verse, and a load of rubbish at that!" The Blind Elder flew into a rage, his whiskers blowing upward at the corners of his mouth: "You'd spout verse too if you could, but you don't know more than a few characters!" Granny Zhu put in hastily, "Lame Elder, when you lay them out, keep the good stuff on the side — don't put it in the coffins! It's worth a bit of money; next time we can sell it for oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar!" "Right!" In the Wastes, the dearest things were not gold, silver, or jewels but oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and silks and brocades. Such goods did not exist in the Wastes; only caravans could bring them from the outside world to Jianglong City, and the folk of the Wastes had to barter rare treasures and beast hides for them — it was no exaggeration to say that salt was worth more than gold. Every time, Granny Zhu hauled a cartload of treasures and drove several beasts of burden to Jianglong City; only by selling the beasts and treasures could she trade for a little oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar. The Medicine Master came forward to apply medicine and bandage the wounds on Shen Mu's hands, shaking his head: "Catching a sword with bare hands — your primordial energy is nowhere near strong enough. Don't play the hero next time." Shen Mu felt only a cool, tingling numbness in his palms, no pain. "My sword-control art isn't good enough," he said. "I can't match the agility of that man from the Lan River Sect. I can feel a body full of strength, but I just can't strike it out." "That's only natural. That Butcher's sword-control art is far too poor; there's nothing he can teach you." The Medicine Master added with a knowing smile: "There's someone in this village who knows deep and subtle sword-control, only he doesn't want to teach you." The village head's expression darkened slightly, and he said stiffly, "Medicine Master, there's too much water here — take me back to my room!" The Medicine Master laughed: "Then the village head will have to wait a moment; I'm still bandaging Mu'er's hands." When the wounds were bound, Shen Mu saw the mute blacksmith picking up swords from the ground. He picked one up and shook it gently, and at once flying swords by the thousand came of their own accord, clanging and clattering against the sword in his hand; then all of them vanished, merged into a single sword. Shen Mu could not help clicking his tongue in wonder. He went up too, picked up a sword, and shook it gently — but nothing happened at all. The mute grinned wide; there was no tongue in his mouth. He made two "ah-ah" sounds, then rubbed the sword between his two hands, and the sword was rubbed smaller and smaller until, in the blink of an eye, it had become a tiny silver pellet no bigger than a fingertip. Shen Mu looked at the sword in his own hand and thought he should rub it too, to see whether he could work it into a silver pellet. The Medicine Master quickly said, "Don't rub! I only just bandaged those wounds! Mute, stop teasing him, or I'll poison you to death!" The mute laughed without stopping, snatched the flying sword from Shen Mu's hand, and pressed the silver pellet into his palm instead. Crack. Shen Mu heard a light sound from his shoulder, and then the pellet in his hand pressed his whole body down, flattening him to the ground. The mute gave a start and slapped his forehead — he had just forgotten that this was the My