CH 62

Chapter 62: Spider of the Same Age (II)

Anyone would be completely shocked to see their own handwriting in some random place. Cowardly people might even feel a frisson of fear. But no one would be happy at all.

If it was in a normal place, then perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. But this was mysterious bamboo building, and clearly not somewhere nice –– you had to have something deeply wrong with you to willingly imprison yourself within a thicket of poisonous fog in the middle of nowhere.

So it was highly unnerving to find your own handwriting here.

Thankfully, the book itself wasn't evil-looking: it was an ordinary booklet filled with notes about some anonymous person's travels. And the annotated text itself was rather basic too: in a straightforward manner, it described how the author had accidentally gone into a funeral stop in Langzhou to shelter from the rain, and had run into a funeral party.

And the annotations were even simpler. They consisted of only three words: Xia Mountain, Langzhou.

It could barely be defined as an annotation –– more like a marker. 

Frowning, Xuanmin stared intently at the calligraphy, only coming back to his senses when Xue Xian called out at him.

"Bald donkey? Why are you just standing there? What's in the book?" Although most of Xue Xian's attention was on Stone Zhang and Twenty-Seven, he had noticed Xuanmin take out a book and then stand here unmoving for a long time, and had become curious.    

From Xue Xian's angle, he could only see Xuanmin's profile. The lantern wasn't very bright, so Xuanmin's brow cast a dark shadow onto his eyes, outlining the handsome silhouette of his nose, yet also made him seem highly solemn, as though he'd seen a ghost.

It was rare to see Xuanmin so taken aback, so Xue Xian wanted to take advantage and see what his face looked like. That was why he had called out to him.

Xuanmin continued to stare at the book and did not move his head, only saying, "Nothing."

This was an automatic reaction on his part. Right after he said it, he looked up, and the hand that was reaching out to grab another book from the shelf stopped. He shut the book and began to walk over.

In all honesty, there was a really unique aspect to Xuanmin's aura, which became the clearest when he was doing certain things alone and silently. It was as though nothing that was happening around him had anything to do with him, so that he appeared utterly alienated and desolate. And the desolation wasn't the melancholy kind, but one that made him seem far away and detached. 

A monk like seemed like he should standing alone in a snow-covered empty temple, with a pagoda made of bronze and ebony behind him, and a heavy set of doors in front of him.

Outside the door was the chaotic red dust of the world; and inside the door was the high priest, a lone, snow-white cloud.

So when Xuanmin had said, Nothing, Xue Xian had gotten that impression of the monk again, accompanied by a lingering discomfort. And when Xuanmin had changed his mind and begun to walk over, it was as though he had suddenly pushed open the heavy temple doors. 

For some reason, this simple walk over to where he sat made Xue Xian happy.

But soon, his good mood was shattered again––

Xuanmin gave him the book and opened it to the page he'd been reading before, pointing down at the lettering.

Naturally, Xue Xian saw the marking in the margin, but as he read it over and over, he did not see anything particularly interesting. Finally, he said, "There's something wrong with the annotations?"

Xuanmin said, "Yes."

"What is it?" Xue Xian asked, confused.

"It looks like I wrote it."

Xue Xian looked at him.

First, Xue Xian's heart skipped a beat, then a rush of complicated emotions came into him. On the one hand, he was pleased that Xuanmin was telling him this with no intention of keeping it a secret. But on the other hand... why was there an object here connected to Xuanmin?!

The person they were looking for was responsible somehow for the maiming of his dragon body. In all the places in the world that he could possibly hide, he had chosen this foggy, unknown place, and in this mysterious room, traces of Xuanmin's past had turned up...

For a brief moment, as Xue Xian stared at the calligraphy on the page, his mind became blank and his heart felt as though it had been suddenly plunged into an icy river and was now convulsing ceaselessly with shocked, hypothermic shivers.

But after some time sitting there, frozen, Xue Xian recalled that figure who had stood beyond the cage of golden threads, with the wind whipping their long hair across their face. He knew that Xuanmin had shaved his head as a child. So the person who had maimed him was not Xuanmin.

So that was that.

Finally, Xue Xian let go of the breath he'd been holding, and the blurred words on the page became legible again.

"So what if you wrote it? Are you trying to get me to praise your handwriting?" Xue Xian sneered as he flipped through more of the pages. He wanted to use that to repress the sudden sense of doubt that had nagged him just then. Although he had immediately nipped that doubt in the bud, it was still hurtful to imply that you did not trust someone. It was best not to discuss such things at the moment –– he did not want to perturb Xuanmin, lest he begin to crack.

He tossed the book back to Xuanmin and spread his arms wide in measurement. "Compared to my handwriting, you still have all this to improve."

By the wall, Stone Zhang overheard this and thought, I can't believe there are such shameless people in the world. I'm truly honored to be a witness to it.

The shameless aspect was that the two powerful wizards were just idly standing there, waiting for a middle-aged man and a half-blind boy to figure out what lay within the room. What the fuck was that about?

Since Xuanmin had willingly given the book for Xue Xian to inspect, he had prepared himself well in advance for any kind of reaction. But he really had not expected Xue Xian to say that.

No sense of alarm crossed his eyes, however –– he simply stared silently at Xue Xian.

Xue Xian glanced at him and added, "It's just a book. What can you get out of it? Why don't you try to call out to the room and see if the room answers."

Xuanmin said nothing.

Seeing that Xue Xian was becoming more unreasonable by the minute, Xuanmin retracted his gaze and decided not to engage him anymore. He turned to take out another book from the shelf. But just then, although the room did not answer, something else did.    

Suddenly, a strange batting noise rose from outside the building and was rapidly coming toward them.

Startled, everyone in the room jumped, and Xue Xian almost summoned a gust of wind to blow the thing away. But as he calmed down, he saw that the thing was a pitch-black bird.

This room had a very high ceiling and was spacious, so as the bird flapped in, it flew around aimlessly and did not hit anyone.

"Is this the bird from the forest earlier?" Stone Zhang asked, recalling the crow that had almost led them away.

With his sharper-than-human eyes, Xue Xian studied the frenzied bird as it flapped about in the lantern light and said, "You're right, it is. How did it get in here?"

As he spoke, the black bird did something else to startle them.

As it flew up to the high ceiling and spun around in circles, it seemed to be searching for a specific person. It soon found its target and flew rapidly down, flapping its wings manically until it landed on Xuanmin's shoulder. Then it lifted a long plumed wing and nuzzled against Xuanmin's cheek and chirped.

Stone Zhang's mouth dropped to the floor.

Twenty-Seven only coolly said, "I don't think that's the noise crows normally make..."

Xue Xian said nothing. He was probably the most taken aback of them all.

Now the heavens really had called his bluff. Just as he'd said See if the room answers, this damn bird had come in and answered. Not only that, but it had come all the way into the room –– and not only that, but it had to go up to Xuanmin and sit on his shoulder, and as it flew by, it had sprayed feathers onto Xue Xian's face. This ...

What was this?!

Even Xuanmin had been shocked by the appearance of the bird. As it had flown into the room, the foot that had stepped out in the direction of the bookcase froze.

He didn't need to look at more of the books to understand –– beasts and birds were particularly sensitive, and no ordinary bird would just tumble into a room and settle onto a stranger's shoulder, and then rub that stranger's face.

"What... what is going on?" Stone Zhang finally said, completely lost.

Blankly, Xue Xian glared at the bird and scoffed, "What do you think? Obviously, this bird knows the bald donkey."

"So..." Stone Zhang mumbled.

"So this building might belong to the monk," Twenty-Seven said. 

Twenty-Seven and Stone Zhang had not seen the calligraphy –– if they had, they would not have said might. 

"This is your home," Xue Xian said, staring at Xuanmin.

Xuanmin glanced at the bird on his shoulder. He had to admit that, normally, he hated being to close to other people or things, but when this crow had come to nuzzle him, he had felt a sense of familiarity rather than that automatic disgust. So he, too, concluded that this room really must be his.

As Xue Xian stared hard at Xuanmin's eyes, Xuanmin looked up and met his gaze. "Yes," he said in a straightforward manner. But after he responded, he did not tear his gaze away –– he continued to look calmly back at Xue Xian.

Maybe it was a mistake –– maybe the dim light of the lantern in the room had made things seem not like what they were –– but Xue Xian got the feeling that Xuanmin was worried about his reaction...

Xue Xian looked away and said, "That bird is stupid."

The crow ruffled its feathers and cried out again, then came flying at him to peck at his face.

"It can understand human language. It really is some kind of magical bird," Xue Xian said unhappily. "Why are you so nice to the bald donkey but so rude to me? Huh? Looks like you don't want to keep that beautiful smooth plumage of yours!"

This dragon had been alive for at least hundreds of years, yet here he was, fighting with a bird... what a wonder. As he spoke, he really did lift his hand to try and pluck at the crow's tail.

Unable to defeat Xue Xian, the black bird chirped again harshly and flew back to Xuanmin's shoulder. With that, the screen that had settled between the two suddenly disappeared. 

Xue Xian chuckled, then looked at Xuanmin again. "So the room is yours. But you're not the one who maimed me –– I'm sure of that. But it does seem that you have some kind of connection to that person. I hope that you were opposed to each other, and not... conspirators." 

Xue Xian spoke with no expression on his face, and Xuanmin was detached, too. Stone Zhang, standing by the wall, was afraid even to breathe, and even Twenty-Seven, who never normally paid attention to what was going on around him, detected something strange about the atmosphere.

Xue Xian was staring into Xuanmin's eyes and did not miss a single flash of even the most subtle emotion in that calm gaze. If Xue Xian's saw correctly, when he'd said that last word, there had been a minuscule change in Xuanmin's eyes.

The change was tiny, almost imperceptible, and Xue Xian wasn't sure what it meant. But at least... the monk wasn't completely unfazed.

They had been travelling together for so long –– if, when faced with the possibility that they may be enemies, Xuanmin had continued to show that absolute sense of stillness and peace, then they might as well part ways right then and there.

Xue Xian felt a strange feeling –– there was nothing wrong, but somehow, things didn't seem right either.

But it wasn't the right time to dive deep. He rearranged his face back into that carefree pose and jutted out his chin. "But you go around looking upon everyone with a filthy sense of disdain. You could probably never become conspirators with anyone even if you wanted to –– you'd annoy the other person to death. Alright, now stop thinking about it and go help look at the walls. Since this room is yours, your instinct will be better than anyone else's. Show us! Show us the arcane truth of Buddhism!"

As he spoke, he extravagantly slapped the table like a police interrogator.

Most people could not catch up with the absurd way in which Xue Xian flitted between extreme emotions, and even Xuanmin felt exasperated.

He continued to stand there, and just as he wanted to speak, that magical bird began to nuzzle his face again. The crow chirped harshly at Xue Xian again, then flew up to a corner of the high ceiling and began flapping its wings at a piece of bamboo at the end of the wall.

With a hum, some kind of mechanism in the bamboo unlatched and the ground beneath their feet began to tremble –– then sank down.

The earth underneath the room was empty?!

As they sank all the way to the bottom and the mechanism stopped, Xue Xian's sensitive ears heard that in some distant corner, there was the weak sound of someone breathing.