Chapter 334 — Sick with Longing

CHAPTER 334

Sick with Longing

Shi Feng came back from the stream at dawn and found Lin Langtian leaning on the camp rope, talking to the Valley girls.

He stopped behind a tent flap. The chief disciple was speaking very loudly and very sadly, which was never a good sign.

“He doesn't eat,” Lin Langtian said. “Oh, he pretends. He chews, he swallows. But I've watched him, young ladies. Every night he sits by that fire, and he looks at nothing. Do you know what a man looks at when he looks at nothing?”

“What?” Su Wanning whispered. She was holding the rope with both hands.

“The empty place beside him,” Lin Langtian said, and pressed a fist to his heart. “Sick with longing. That's the diagnosis. This senior brother has studied medicine.”

“You study potatoes,” Bai Chenxi said.

Bai Chenxi stood a little behind the others, with her frost sword on her back and her arms folded. She was the Valley’s coldest disciple, and she plainly distrusted the chief disciple’s performance.

“Both are roots,” Lin Langtian said with dignity.

“So that's why he stared at the fire last night!” Su Wanning cried, in the high, happy voice of a girl who had been handed a gift. “Big Sis Qingzhu sat there for eleven minutes, and I told Lin Yue, I said, nobody sits for eleven minutes for nothing, and Lin Yue said maybe the stone was warm, but I said no, that's not how stones work, and now he's sick, he's actually sick? Is it bad? Should we bring soup?”

“Soup would be tragic,” Lin Langtian said gravely. “But a man like this recovers best by being useful. Exercise. Fresh air. A walk along a high ridge, perhaps. He who tied the bell must untie it.”

Shi Feng stepped out of the tent flap.

All four faces swung toward him. Su Wanning let go of the rope. Bai Chenxi's eyes narrowed.

“Good morning,” Shi Feng said.

“Junior Brother!” Lin Langtian cried. “We were just discussing the weather.”

“You were discussing me,” Shi Feng said, looking straight at Lin Langtian.

“The weather is also about you. Isn’t it, ladies?” Lin Langtian said, trying to recruit help from the Valley disciples.

Su Wanning ran. Lin Yue ran after her, red to the ears. Bai Chenxi stayed where she was for another breath.

“Whatever he's planning,” Bai Chenxi said to Shi Feng, in a low flat voice, “don't be in it.”

“I know,” Shi Feng said.

“Then why aren’t you stopping him?” Bai Chenxi asked impatiently.

“I'm not sure I can,” Shi Feng said honestly.

Bai Chenxi frowned, as if that were the first sensible thing she'd heard from the camp, and went away.

Lin Langtian clapped his hands.

“Excellent!” Lin Langtian said. “Now, Junior Brother. Let's discuss the north ridge.”

“Ling Qingzhu said not to go alone,” Shi Feng reminded him.

“And you won't,” Lin Langtian said. “Zhu Liu, show him.”

Zhu Liu unrolled a hand-drawn map. A narrow line ran along a cliff edge above the den. “The ridge path overlooks the serpent's lair,” Zhu Liu said anxiously. “If we scout there, we can see where the guardian sleeps. I wrote it down. Senior Brother Lin said it was important.”

“It is,” Lin Langtian said. “The Martial Palace team is already planning to go this afternoon. Whoever scouts first knows the den.”

Shi Feng looked at him for a long moment.

“You want me on a cliff,” Shi Feng said.

“I want you informed,” Lin Langtian insisted. “You’ll fight the guardian more safely if you’ve seen the ground.”

“And you won’t come,” Shi Feng said, waiting for the excuse.

“I physically can't,” Lin Langtian said, spreading his hands. “Nascent Soul. Boundary stone. It's a tragedy.”

Shi Feng thought, He has set something up. But he looked at the map and found nothing wrong with it, and the ridge did overlook the den. The scouting was real. Lin Langtian had given him a real reason to go, which made refusing harder. Shi Feng disliked knowing he was being steered and still wanting the information.

“Fine,” Shi Feng said. “I'll go. Alone.”

“You'll be the picture of independence,” Lin Langtian said warmly, and wandered off, whistling.

Sima Lan came up beside Shi Feng with her ledger under her arm.

“He was at the Valley's tents before you were awake,” Sima Lan said. “And yesterday evening he sent a herb-carrier's boy up the quiet ridge with a bag. He told me it was for his digestion.”

“Did you follow the boy?” Shi Feng asked.

“I’m an attendant, not a spy. Spies charge more,” Sima Lan replied, then hesitated. “The bag held jade chips. Rain array chips, fourth grade. I looked.”

“Thank you,” Shi Feng said.

“It’s included,” Sima Lan replied. “Don’t let him pretend you went there without warning.”

The north ridge path was a ledge as wide as two feet, cut into a cliff above a drop of seventy zhang. Shi Feng walked it in the afternoon with one hand on the rock. Below him the mist moved slowly through the valley, and far down he could see a dark patch in the green that might be a den.

His ankle ached. Shi Feng kept one hand against the rock and continued carefully; he wasn’t going to give the injury another hard landing.

At the bend he found a small flat shelf and, on the other side of it, a girl in a green cloak coming along the ledge from the opposite direction.

Ling Qingzhu stopped. He stopped.

“Su Wanning said there was a rare herb on this ridge,” Ling Qingzhu said slowly. “She said it needed a Golden Core to check.”

“Lin Langtian said there was a view of the den,” Shi Feng said.

They looked at each other. A very faint cold drop hit Shi Feng on the nose.

He looked up. The sky was clear blue, and a single circle of grey cloud, no wider than ten paces, had formed directly over the two of them. It was raining on the shelf and nowhere else.

“Ling Qingzhu,” Shi Feng said. “Step back.”

“I'm stepping,” Ling Qingzhu said.

With a deep crack, the ledge behind her fell off the cliff.