Chapter 22 — Nightfall

Yet the qilin only glanced at him before turning back to the staff—and this time it actually lowered its head and brought its nose close to the thing, sniffing it carefully. Zhang Qingyue's heart was still pounding, but watching the strange conduct of the beast before him, he thought instinctively how much it resembled Da Huang. Had he not been so tense, he might almost have laughed aloud.

The qilin sniffed for a while and clearly came up with nothing. It raised its head and looked about, seeming puzzled, thoroughly confused. But a thousand-year spirit beast is a thousand-year spirit beast after all: after a moment's thought, it decided to give up. It gave a snorting "pfft," glared at Zhang Qingyue with its great eyes—scaring him half to death again—then, shaking its head and tail, turned and walked down into the pool. In a moment, water splashed high, and the vast body submerged.

Only then did Zhang Qingyue's shaken soul begin to settle. He climbed slowly to his feet and only then realized that his back was soaked through—to say nothing of the cold sweat on his brow, which ran like rain. He went to the Dark Iron Staff, picked it up, and turned it over in his hands, but for the life of him could see nothing unusual about it. He could not help blurting out: "What in the world is going on!"

Before the words had left his mouth, there came a splash from the jade pool beside him—a great sheet of water heaved up, and through the white spray he glimpsed the qilin's enormous tail breaking the surface.

Zhang Qingyue was badly startled. He stuffed the Dark Iron Staff into his bosom at once and fled at a dead run. All the way, he heard the water churning behind him but dared not look back even once, only running for all he was worth, putting as much distance between himself and that place as he could. Before long he was on the Rainbow Bridge, running straight up it, until no sound came from behind him and he had reached the bridge's very top. There he stopped, gasping for breath.

"Hah, hah, hah!"

Zhang Qingyue's breathing slowly quieted. But suddenly he felt very tired—a weariness rising from the depths of his heart. He lowered his head and saw, in the moonlight, a lone shadow following him all the way.

He looked up suddenly at the heavens, where a cold moon hung high in the cold vault of the sky. He stared at it, spellbound, and for a moment was lost entirely.

At dawn, everyone awoke.

Du Bi said, "Honestly, after a whole night's sleep my back's about to break. How am I supposed to compete today?"

Old Fifth, Lü Daxin, frowned and said, "Old Sixth, stop making such a racket. I slept the whole night too, and my back's fine."

Song Dayi, standing nearby, chimed in, "That's right. You complained all night long last night, Old Sixth, wasn't that enough? Don't you see Old Fifth and our little junior brother haven't made a peep?"

Du Bi said, "Old Fifth just has thick skin and coarse flesh, he doesn't feel anything. If you don't believe me, ask our little junior brother—hey, little junior brother, why are your eyes all bloodshot? Did you really not sleep well last night?"

Zhang Qingyue had finished tidying his bedding and now sat in a chair, staring blankly out the window without the slightest reaction. Big Yellow lay at his feet, while the monkey Xiao Hui was rummaging through Big Yellow's fur as if hunting for fleas.

Du Biyan walked over and clapped him hard on the shoulder. Zhang Qingyue gave a start and leapt up, startling Big Yellow and Xiao Hui as well. He turned his head this way and that and said, "Wh-what is it?"

Du Bi said, "Xiaofan, why are you so out of sorts? Didn't you sleep well last night?"

Zhang Qingyue froze for a moment, then shook his head and said, "N-no, I did."

Du Bi said, "Then why are your eyes all bloodshot and red?"

Zhang Qingyue was just about to speak when He Dachuan, who had come over, cut in, "Old Sixth, mind your own business. It doesn't matter how poorly our little junior brother is feeling—he has a bye today anyway. But if you don't wash up soon and end up missing the matches, you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Du Biyan was struck with sudden enlightenment. He no longer cared whether Zhang Qingyue had slept well or not. He rushed over, utterly ignoring Lü Daxin, Zheng Dali, and the others who were washing their faces, seized the basin, and splashed water wildly over his face, saying all the while, "Hmph, our little junior brother is just born lucky. Look at him, wearing that look like he's about to die and sleeping his life away. Good heavens—Old Fifth, give me back the basin, I'm running out of time!"

"Bah, I haven't even washed yet myself!"

Zhang Qingyue watched his senior brothers squabbling endlessly over a washbasin on the other side of the room, and felt a faint disgust rise in his heart. He stood up and walked out. Just as he reached the doorway, Song Dayi suddenly called from behind, "Little junior brother, have you washed yet?"

Zhang Qingyue turned his head and said, "I have, eldest senior brother."

Song Dayi nodded and said, "Good. It's fine for you to go out for a walk first, but in a little while you're to go to the dining hall for breakfast. Understood?"

Zhang Qingyue answered, "Understood." With that he stepped out. The monkey Xiao Hui gave two squeaks, ran over, and scrambled up onto his shoulder. Seeing Xiao Hui go, Big Yellow lazily clambered up too, wagged its tail, and followed him out. In the corridor, Zhang Qingyue saw on every side the busy figures of fellow disciples from the various branches of the Canglan Sect, all just risen from bed. He wandered along at an easy pace, and before he knew it had come to the Sea of Clouds Plaza.

The hour was still early, and only a scattered few Qingyun disciples were walking upon the sea of clouds. A cool mountain wind blew past, brushing Zhang Qingyue's face with a faint chill.

Just like last night!

A pain stabbed at Zhang Qingyue's heart. He was sixteen now, a youth in the first stirrings of love. He had lived on Dazhu Peak for five years, in daily company with Tian Lingsu, and since childhood had buried deep in his heart a profound affection for this beautiful, vivacious senior sister. But last night he had with his own eyes witnessed Tian Lingsu meeting Qi Hao in secret—a thunderbolt from a clear sky, throwing his heart into utter turmoil.

At this moment his mind was a jumble, and scene after scene from last night—each one stabbing him with deadly pain—flashed before him. He drifted along like a wandering ghost without a master, walking on without aim.

"Eh?" Suddenly a cry of surprise sounded at his side, giving Zhang Qingyue a start and rousing him from his tangled thoughts. He looked over and saw a young Qingyun disciple, delicate of feature, in a long robe, perhaps twenty years old, holding in his hand a fan traced in gold, upon which seemed to be painted landscapes and rivers. The man had drawn close to him, yet his pair of bright, large eyes never once glanced at Zhang Qingyue—they were fixed unblinkingly on the monkey Xiao Hui perched on Zhang Qingyue's shoulder.