Chapter 45 — The Golden Bell

Bili froze for a moment and read the four lines again. The strokes were finer and more delicate in their force than those of the Book of Heaven carved in the stone chamber, plainly the work of another hand.

And as for the sense of the words, they read like the plaintive speech of a woman deep in love. Only, how had they come to be here, in this stronghold of the demon cult, in the "Blooddrop Cave"? Truly strange.

She pondered a long while and still could make nothing of it. She shook her head and was about to give it up and think no more of it, but as she turned, she saw to her astonishment that Zhang Qingyue had at some point come silently out of the stone chamber and was standing behind her. His face was strange, seeming both grieved and startled, with something of bewilderment besides; his brows were knotted, the muscles of his face faintly twisted, almost hideous.

Bili gave a great start and could not help crying out "Ya!" as she stepped back. The little bell at her waist trembled softly, giving out a clear, sweet "ding-dang" that echoed through the cavern.

At the sound of the bell Zhang Qingyue shuddered, as though suddenly woken, and his face slowly calmed — only to be replaced by bewilderment.

A moment before, he had been in the stone chamber, brooding over the Book of Heaven. Then all at once the dark iron staff at his hand had seemed to wake: it had not only begun to shine, but a cold sensation had spread through his whole body almost in an instant. After that he had walked out as though by instinct, until he saw the heap of shattered bones.

Zhang Qingyue looked at the dark iron staff bound to his left arm. It was still shining, giving off a faint blue-green light, pointed straight at the collapsed, shattered skeleton, as though mourning an old friend.

Zhang Qingyue did not know why such a thought had come to him, but looking at the skeleton, something in the depths of his heart was grieved. He knew perfectly well that whoever had died here must have been a person of consequence in the Blood Refining Hall of the demon cult — perhaps, as Bili said, the Blackheart Old Man himself — yet somehow he felt a certain closeness to these bones.

The staff's radiance slowly dimmed and returned to its ugly black, motionless. Zhang Qingyue, however, still gazed at the skeleton, and then, under Bili's watching eyes, slowly walked toward it.

Bili gave a cold snort and darted in front of him to block his way. "I've no love for the old devil Blackheart," she said with a sneer, "and we're of different factions besides. But we are both disciples of the Holy Cult, and we both swore mighty oaths before the Holy Mother of the Dark and the Bright King of Heaven's Wrath. If you mean to show disrespect to his remains, I'll not permit it."

Zhang Qingyue glanced at her and could not help answering, "He's ground to dust and bone now — I'd say that's your doing, isn't it?"

Bili flushed, but gave not an inch. "Of course I'll repent before the Holy Mother and the Bright King," she said firmly. "But I'll not suffer you to be sacrilegious either!"

Zhang Qingyue looked at her and suddenly said, "That's not what I meant."

Bili was taken aback. Seeing his calm expression, with no trace of hatred in it, she felt that this youth of the Canglan Sect was utterly unlike the righteous folk she had met before, forever spouting benevolence and moral virtue. As she hesitated, Zhang Qingyue walked past her. She paused a moment, then turned to look after him.

Zhang Qingyue came to the heap of bones. They were very old; the ghastly white bone had taken on a faint, ghostly green sheen. Bili's blow had scattered everything below the chest, and only the skull remained whole, resting atop the pile, its two hollow eyes fixed straight on Zhang Qingyue.

Zhang Qingyue shuddered. He had a vague sense that a soul still lingered in those eyes, watching him. But he went up to it all the same and slowly reached out to gather the scattered bones into a heap. A coldness passed from the bones to his hands, yet the dread was gone.

It was as though they were old friends of many years!

Deep in his heart Zhang Qingyue felt something like relief, the release of one who has done what ought to be done. Strange as it was, he truly felt it — and inwardly he thought: this dark iron staff is far too uncanny. If I get out of here alive, I must ask my master about it.

When he had finished, he was about to straighten up, and just then, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the place where the skeleton had sat. Because he had swept the bones aside, some writing had been faintly revealed. He could not help uttering a low "Eh?"

Bili, standing to one side, had been watching Zhang Qingyue's odd behavior with a cold eye. Hearing his sudden low exclamation, her curiosity was roused, and she came over to look. There, sure enough, a few lines of characters were carved.

The heart is bitter, and looks back unwillingly;

Too late for regret, too hard to abide together.

The golden bell rings clear — the blood-devouring goes astray;

A whole life, always...

By the fourth line the strokes grew weaker and weaker. The third "always" in particular was so scrawled that it could scarcely be made out, and at the last the brush trailed off in a single stroke and broke off there. Plainly, when the writer reached this point, he had no strength left to go on.

In the cavern, Zhang Qingyue and Bili were both silent. Both sensed dimly that behind these two passages there must lie a tale of heartbreak — a woman wounded in love, and in the end a man consumed with regret.

Zhang Qingyue was somewhat lost in thought. He had never seen these nameless lovers, yet somehow, a thousand years later, gazing on these traces — whether or not they could be called a final testament — he still felt sorrow.

Bili, standing beside him, was frowning deeply, her eyes fixed on the lines, murmuring, "The golden bell rings clear — the blood-devouring goes astray, the golden bell rings clear — the blood-devouring goes astray... Golden bell? Ah! Yes, the golden bell!"

As though she had hit upon something, she gave a glad cry, her face lighting up with joy. Zhang Qingyue was startled. "What about the golden bell?"

Bili seemed utterly thrilled, her face radiant. "It's Lady Golden Bell! Don't you know?"

Zhang Qingyue shook his head blankly. Bili snorted, shot him a glare, then said gleefully, "Lady Golden Bell was a great figure in our Holy Cult a thousand years ago! They say she was brilliant beyond compare, deep in the Way, and that she grasped the Holy Cult's classic, the Book of Heaven, with a great awakening of her own. She founded the Enchanting Spirit faction all by herself within the Holy Cult — a woman without peer among our sect!"

Zhang Qingyue's interest died at once. From what she said, he knew this Lady Golden Bell had been some figure of the demon cult a thousand years ago, who seemed to have been very formidable; but when he heard that the faction she founded was called "Joyful Union," he knew at once the old woman had been no good sort. Yet Bili seemed to worship this Lady Golden Bell.

Zhang Qingyue snorted and did not take up her words. He turned and rearranged the heap of bones he had disturbed in order to read the writing. But a strange thought rose in his mind: so you were a fool for love too. Perhaps you died for a woman as well!

The dead man of course gave no answer, but Zhang Qingyue's own idle fancies somehow made him feel still closer to the skull.

Bili gloated a long while beside him, muttering to herself, "To think Lady Golden Bell would fall for that accursed old devil Blackheart! Hmph, it must be Blackheart who broke her heart — the heartless wretch! Serve him right if he was struck by lightning! Best that he's dead!"

"Nonsense!" Zhang Qingyue suddenly snapped beside her.