Chapter 65 — The Past

Su Wan looked around, and her brows knit slightly as she answered: "Yes! It was bright just now, and in the blink of an eye dark clouds cover all." But she did not take it to heart, and turned to another matter: "Buyi, there is something I have never understood, from just now until this moment."

Tian Buhui looked at her and said: "What?"

Su Wan said: "If Xiaofan truly does know the Nether King and his daughter, as Xiao Yichen says, then by both feeling and reason he ought to have told Senior Brother Cangsong—he should be very clear on that. Yet he told you privately instead, and kept it from Senior Brother Cangsong. And in daily life he is hardly close to our Dazhu Peak. I keep feeling something is not quite right."

Tian Buhui was silent a moment, then said mildly: "This man is not simple."

Su Wan's brows knit slightly: "How so?"

Tian Buhui did not answer her directly. He mused for a moment, then said: "From what I know, our senior brother the sect master has devoted himself to cultivating the Dao these years, and has gradually stopped concerning himself with the affairs of the sect. The tedious daily matters are for the most part handed over to the elders, with Cangsong at their head." Here he paused, gave a cold laugh, and said: "Now there are those in the sect whispering among themselves that Cangsong is already the sect master who resides on Dragon Ridge Peak."

Su Wan's body gave a start. Worry showed on her face, and she tugged at Tian Buhui's sleeve, saying in a low voice: "Whatever you do, you must never say such things outside."

Tian Buhui nodded and said: "I understand well enough. Set your mind at ease."

That said, he mused a while, then spoke again: "You know as well as I do that in the two thousand years of our Canglan Sect, and especially since Patriarch Qingye founded the Seven Veins of Qingyun, the seat of sect master has always passed to a disciple of the eldest branch on Jietian Peak. But now..."

Su Wan smiled and took up his words: "But now our senior brother Cangsong enjoys great prestige in the sect, his cultivation is powerful, and his renown is second only to senior brother Daoyan. Originally it seemed there could be no dispute that Xiao Yichen would succeed as sect master, yet now it appears there is some doubt."

Tian Buhui said mildly: "And for these two hundred years Cangsong has held the sect's power of punishment. In ordinary times his word is law, and save for senior brother Daoyan, he has long since ceased to regard anyone as worth his notice. That our nephew Xiao should harbor some misgivings is only natural."

Su Wan lowered her head, and only after a long while said: "Buyi, this struggle over the sect master's seat involves a great deal. Do not sink too deep into it."

Tian Buhui shook his head and said: "Do you think I do not know it? But I am the head of a vein; how could I stand aside? Today Xiao Yichen has shown me favor, most likely to leave a shred of goodwill for the contests to come. In any case, we can only take one step and see the next."

Su Wan sighed and nodded: "That is all we can do."

With a "wu" sound, from some nameless depth of the forest, a gust of sinister wind suddenly blew over.

Zhang Qingyue felt a chill at the nape of his neck. He raised his head and looked at the sky full of tree shadows, swaying and dancing like so many demons. His brows knitted slightly; tonight the forest seemed to him thick with ghostly air, greatly unlike other days. But then he thought again: he had lodged here many days and had never seen any evil thing. Could it be that a darker sky had brought one out?

At this thought he found himself rather amusing, and was about to stride quickly onward.

Suddenly, behind him, a ghostly howl burst out of nowhere, piercing straight into his ears. Zhang Qingyue turned pale with fright and whirled around at once, his face draining of several shades of color. There on the path behind him, in the darkness, a skull wreathed in flickering dark-red radiance slowly kindled to life, flew up into midair, and spun without cease.

Amid that ghostly wailing, the red skull gradually came to a stop, its face turned square toward Zhang Qingyue. He saw that in those sunken eye sockets there seemed to burn a few points of ghost-fire, and could not help but shiver.

A moment later, behind this spectral thing, two figures slowly rose. Backlit by the red skull's glow, Zhang Qingyue saw that one of them was a tall, lean old man, his features hideous, his face withered and dried, little more than skin stretched over bone, so that he looked scarcely different from the red skull itself. His eyes glared viciously at Zhang Qingyue, full of resentment.

The other man looked thoroughly wretched. Though he too was rather tall, the old man held him in his grip like a chick, so that he could not move, his face full of helpless dejection.

Zhang Qingyue looked closely, and could not help starting in surprise, an "yi" escaping his lips.

The man looked familiar; indeed he was an acquaintance, none other than the Wild Wolf Daoist he had first seen beneath the Myriad Bats Grotto on Kongsang Mountain, and had met several times again these past days here on Liubo Mountain. The old withered man had him by the collar with his right hand, and his face was doleful; but in the blink of an eye he caught sight of Zhang Qingyue standing ahead, staring over in astonishment, and at once, as though seeing a savior, he pointed at Zhang Qingyue and cried out: "Ah! That's him, that's him!"

Zhang Qingyue was startled. Seeing the Wild Wolf Daoist point at him and cry out without cease, he could not tell what it meant. Then he saw the old man glare fiercely at him and, in a harsh, hoarse voice, say to the Wild Wolf Daoist: "Is this the little whelp of the Canglan Sect?"

The Wild Dog nodded again and again, saying hurriedly: "Yes, yes, that's him, Senior Vampire, it was this thousand-times-damned bastard who did in your only heir, Jiang Laosan the Vampire."

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