Chapter 70 — Specters and Monsters

Shen Mu, his hand held in hers, felt only that the girl's hand was soft and fine, and his heart stirred; yet Fu Tingyue's savagery still left him deeply uneasy.

He looked back. On the platform in the middle of the lake, Fu Tingyue had cut the fingers from his opponent's hands and had not even stopped — now he went on to cut away the man's wrists, so frenzied that he was more beast than beast.

"That one is a madman! Though, come to think of it, this Young Master Tingyue seems to have some bond with me."

Shen Mu mused inwardly. Years ago Granny Zhu had picked him up beside the river; fearing he would die young, she had slipped into Crimson Dragon City and carried off the city lord's wife, who had given birth only a short while before, and turned her into a milk cow to feed Shen Mu, and so he had lived past the age at which he might have died.

The child the city lord's wife bore at that time must have been Fu Tingyue.

Shen Mu had grown up on his own mother's milk — the bond between them lay in that.

Shen Mu turned back. The youth on the lake platform was past saving; for a hundred dragon coins he had entered the city lord's mansion to fight in the arena, and one who dares come in must have some skill — but he had never thought to lose his life.

In Zhenjiang Tower there was song and dance, peace and plenty. Shen Mu followed Ling Yuxiu into the tower and saw the dancing girls dance within. Their five fingers swept through the air and gave off a bright ding-ling ring — the sound their vital essence made; every toss of the head, every stamp of the foot kept time with the melody.

Even as they danced they could draw a lovely tune out of their vital essence, which made Shen Mu click his tongue in wonder.

On either side of the hall stood many long tables, and many persons of uncommon bearing sat on the ground drinking and making merry, some enjoying the song and dance, others watching the duel on the lake platform.

The sight on the platform had grown pitiful in the extreme: the youth of bronze sinew and iron bone had been tormented out of all human shape, and yet no one in the tower raised a voice to stop it.

Ling Yuxiu pulled Shen Mu straight to one of the tables and sat down on the ground, bold as you please, without the least air of being a stranger.

Those seated in Zhenjiang Tower were strong men who had come from every quarter, mighty and uncommon; seeing this pair of a young man and a young woman arrive, each was surprised, yet none spoke to question them.

In their hearts they thought this handsome pair must be disciples of some exalted master, come along with this Zhenjiang Tower gathering to join the bustle and widen their eyes.

The tables before them were heaped with rare and wondrous fruits, with delicacies and fine dishes; all manner of strange beasts had been cooked into every color and savor, tender and delicious, so that Shen Mu's appetite was stirred in spite of himself.

Granny Zhu had dragged him off to sell oxen and sheep and to buy goods; he had not eaten that evening and had long been hungry.

Shen Mu tasted the food before him and his eyes lit up; he felt his very tongue would melt away, and could not help devoting himself to the delicacies before him. Ling Yuxiu, who had said she was a little hungry, took only two bites before laying down her chopsticks and watching with great interest as he wolfed his food down.

At the table beside Shen Mu sat that sect master's widow, the beauty who stirred the whole city, and she too watched Shen Mu and the girl at his side with much amusement.

"Is she Granny Zhu or isn't she?" Shen Mu wondered.

Besides her, one other person kept glancing his way from time to time. Catching the gaze, Shen Mu looked up and was slightly startled: the man wore a full suit of armor, which he had not taken off even for the banquet — it was that young general Shen Feiyue, whom he had met twice on the Yongjiang.

"Shen Feiyue is here too? He hasn't gone back to the Kingdom of Jingping?"

Shen Mu was astonished, then bent his head to the food before him. Ling Yuxiu tittered. "That young general keeps looking at you. Does he know you?"

Shen Mu swallowed what was in his mouth and thought it over. "We've met twice. There was a plump, portly Seventh Young Master with him as well — I don't know where he's gone."

Ling Yuxiu flared up and pinched his arm.

Shen Mu did not know what the girl was angry about. He thought, "This girl is strange indeed, and that General Shen Feiyue is strange as well — when she pinched me he nearly leapt up, and then held himself back. I was the one pinched, not him. What was he hurting for..."

Suddenly an elder spoke. "City Lord, is that your son outside? Truly great skill. I have long heard that Young Master Tingyue is the strongest martial artist of the younger generation in Crimson Dragon City, and now it seems he is indeed uncommon."

Fu Yundi laughed. "Elder Baishan overpraises him. My son has only learned a few crude methods; he makes a laughingstock of himself."

That Elder Baishan said with a smiling face, "Not so. I have long heard that Young Master Tingyue is the foremost martial artist for a thousand li around. Last year he met three hundred and fifty-two challenges and killed three hundred and fifty-two martial artists from every quarter; not one of them could escape his hand. To possess such battle strength at so young an age is truly remarkable."

Shen Mu's brows lifted, and he went on eating with undivided attention.

Fu Yundi said hurriedly with a laugh, "The ones my son killed were all forsaken folk of the Wasteland. Had they come from elsewhere, my son would still have shown mercy."

Elder Baishan laughed. "Among the forsaken there is no lack of strong men. Young Master Tingyue's skill is indeed remarkable." And with that he sighed in admiration without end.

Fu Yundi chuckled. "My son is an honest fellow. He never forces anyone to match skill with him; he only goes out into the streets to invite these forsaken folk of the Wasteland to come and fight in the arena, promising them money. But alas, men die for wealth as birds die for food, and these forsaken came in an endless stream to challenge my son, and all of them lost their lives. Those hundred dragon coins of my son's have never once been spent. When you come down to it, my son truly knows how to live frugally." And with that he roared with laughter.

The others laughed along with him.

Just then, a black-faced elder's smile snapped shut, and his voice came like thunder, drowning out the laughter of them all: "Widow of the sect master — madam, you have studied the Great Nurturing Nether-Demon Sutra for many a year. May we not have a look at it now?"

This gaunt, black-faced elder sat opposite Shen Mu, withered of countenance, his eyes dull, sitting there like a half-burnt stick of charcoal — yet his voice was enormous.

The moment he spoke, every eye in the tower fixed upon the alluring sect master's widow beside Shen Mu.

Shen Mu hastily set down his ivory chopsticks and sat motionless, his mouth shut, yet he could not keep from secretly chewing the food in his mouth.

The food in his mouth went down into his belly; the youth hesitated a moment, then could not resist, and taking up his ivory chopsticks, caught a slice of slippery lung-fish and slipped it swiftly between his lips.

That charcoal-like elder flew into a rage and glared at Shen Mu: "Stop eating!"

The sect master's widow beside Shen Mu burst out laughing. "So it is the Black Venerable. Why should the Black Venerable be angry? The city lord invited us here to eat; why may he not eat? City Lord, is that not so?"

Fu Yundi coughed once and said with a smile, "This grand gathering is a banquet as well; we ask you all to taste the delicacies of Crimson Dragon City. Naturally everyone must eat until guest and host alike are satisfied."