Chapter 65 — The Peony Exhales Its Fragrance
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 4
" He suddenly understood: those fiends had not destroyed the Yong River map because they did not wish to—but because they disdained to.
These old monsters were confident that even if he carried the map away, the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping would never dare invade the Wasteland! "Why did they not kill us?
" asked the Seventh Young Master, a woman dressed as a man. "Disdain.
" Shen Feiyue said bitterly, "They disdained to kill us, most likely because our abilities are too paltry.
.
. " Bitterness filled his heart.
As a disciple of the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping, he had always held himself in the highest regard; his name rang loud throughout court and country. He had never imagined that one trip through the Wasteland would bring him up against so many mighty beings, and his former conceit had vanished into thin air! When he first met the blind old man, he had still possessed some pride; though shaken by the blind old man, his proud bones remained. But then came the lame old man, appearing and vanishing like a ghost; the sinister, venomous alchemist; the bloodthirsty Butcher—and the pride in his heart and the proud bones in his body were battered into nothing.
Only dread remained. "Nothing can stop the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping, and nothing can frighten the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping! " Shen Feiyue thought of his master, the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping, and the unease in his heart scattered at once. His gaze turned resolute, and he said softly, "If the old fellows of the Wasteland want to be a mantis blocking a chariot, they will only be crushed to powder! " The tower ship sailed on, downstream.
Suddenly Shen Feiyue paused, staring ahead. There had once been an oasis here, and on the oasis an ancient temple—and now the oasis had vanished into thin air!
He had once felt there was something uncanny about the ancient temple and had not gone in to look, but he had marked the place on the Yong River map. He had never expected that on his return both temple and oasis would be gone without a trace. "Open my eyes!
" Shen Feiyue gave a low shout. His eyes blazed with light as he looked beneath the water, and horror seized him: the oasis was still there, but it had been leveled by some vast force, and the ancient temple now lay sunk at the bottom of the river! "The Wasteland.
. . " He steadied himself and had the officers and soldiers rouse their vital essence to row, to leave this place as soon as possible.
Not long after the tower ship departed, the river waters suddenly split, and a bronze Buddha rose slowly from the depths, chains trailing from it.
Though the bronze Buddha was immensely heavy, it seemed to weigh nothing at all, its feet standing upon the water's surface. "The old monsters of Yincan Village are this strong? Some of them will not be easy to deal with.
.
.
" The bronze Buddha gazed far off toward Yincan Village, then stamped down, gathered force, and ran up the riverbank, speeding off without pause. "You took my merit—this matter cannot be let go so lightly. But the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping is stirring, wanting to enter the Wasteland.
Then let me sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight!
When they have fought each other to the death, my Leiyin Temple will reap the fisherman's profit! " And outside Yincan Village, Shen Mu met the lame old man coming toward him.
The old man flicked his hand and tossed him something. Shen Mu caught it: a sword scabbard, a perfect match for the Chubao sword. Shen Mu stared blankly, about to ask where the lame old man had gotten it, when the old man suddenly stuffed something else into his arms. Shen Mu drew it out and looked: a milky-white garment embroidered with pink peonies, about a chi wide, long and narrow as a sash, carrying a faint, clean fragrance.
"Lame Grandpa, what is this? " Shen Mu asked, puzzled. The smile on the lame old man's face stiffened.
Grudgingly he said, "A sweat towel. Keep it to wipe your sweat.