Chapter 23 — The Contest

Song Dayi looked back toward where they had come from and said, "That man is the only son of Uncle-Master Zeng Shuchang, the seat-holder of Fenghui Peak. I hear he is exceptionally gifted, widely read and deeply learned, and his cultivation runs very deep. He is one of the favorites in this contest."

Zhang Qingyue was stunned and for a moment could not speak.

After breakfast, all the disciples of the Canglan Sect came to the Cloud Sea Plaza. One glance showed a vast sea of people, shoulder to shoulder and toe to toe, human energy at its height—a clear sign of the Canglan Sect's prosperity.

On the great plaza, during the short time the crowd had been at breakfast, eight great platforms had already been raised, built of logs as thick as a man's waist and set more than a dozen *zhang* apart, arranged in the positions of the Eight Trigrams. Before and behind the platforms a sea of people now stood. Beneath the central and largest platform, the Qian position, a towering red roll was erected, several men tall, on which characters the size of rice bowls, inlaid in gold, spelled out the draw numbers and names of the disciples entered in the contest. Zhang Qingyue's name stood very conspicuously in the first place, while the column for his opponent was utterly blank.

Zhang Qingyue blushed and stole a glance at the senior brothers around him. The others were all smiling; only Sixth Senior Brother Du Biyan was still grumbling: "Unfair, unfair, un—"

"Silence!" A soft voice came from beside them. Startled, they all turned and saw Tian Buhui and Su Wan approaching with Tian Lingsu. The disciples of Dazhu Peak hurriedly saluted: "Master! Mistress!"

Tian Buhui nodded and said nothing. It was Su Wan who spoke: "The contest will begin shortly. You must all do yourselves credit—understand?"

"Yes," they answered in unison.

Su Wan turned to look at Zhang Qingyue, but his own eyes had at once found Tian Lingsu beside her. Today she seemed even lovelier than usual, radiant with high spirits, her fine eyes full of laughter—one look told him her mood was excellent.

Something seemed to prick Zhang Qingyue's heart, and he could not help lowering his head.

"Xiaofan," Su Wan said, coming over when she saw that her youngest disciple looked rather strange.

Zhang Qingyue quickly raised his head. "Yes, Mistress."

Su Wan looked at him. "Is anything the matter?"

Zhang Qingyue quickly shook his head. "Nothing, Mistress."

Su Wan looked at him again. "Xiaofan, your luck is quite good—you have a bye today. But you must still watch your senior brothers and sisters closely in their matches. Such an opportunity is rare and will do you great good. Understand?"

Zhang Qingyue nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

Su Wan looked at Tian Buhui; he nodded, turned, and walked down from the platform, the others following behind him, gradually dissolving into the crowd.

"Dong!" A clear sound of bell and cauldron rang out, echoing through the cloud sea of drifting white, and everyone's spirits lifted at once. In an instant the noisy plaza fell silent.

There on the great central platform appeared the figures of Daoyan Zhenren and Cangyan Daoren. Daoyan Zhenren stepped forward, swept his gaze over the countless disciples below, and said in a clear voice: "The contest begins."

With that he flicked his sleeve, and at once the bell and cauldron sounded again—"Dong, dong, dong, dong"—ringing to the heavens. Hearing it, Zhang Qingyue suddenly felt his blood racing. He stole a glance at Tian Lingsu beside him and saw her face wreathed in smiles, her expression eager to try her hand.

Once he looked at her, he could not move his eyes away, and so he did not catch what Daoyan Zhenren said on the platform, nor the few words Cangyan Daoren added after him. At last another clear, sweet peal of the great bell and cauldron startled him from his daze, and he realized the contest had already begun.

Sixty-three contestants, eight platforms—naturally they would be divided into four groups. In the first group of sixteen, Tian Lingsu was the only disciple of Dazhu Peak to take the stage, on the western platform at the Li position, and the folk of Dazhu Peak naturally flocked there.

Tian Lingsu's opponent was a disciple of Zhaoyang Peak surnamed Shen, given name Tiandou. He had already leaped up onto the platform, his bearing rather dashing, and a chorus of cheers rose from below. Zhang Qingyue looked over and saw that beneath the Li platform a good hundred or more people had gathered, most of them disciples of Zhaoyang Peak—even Shang Zhengliang, the seat-holder of Zhaoyang Peak, was there watching, a faint smile on his face, plainly setting great store by this Shen Tiandou.

Tian Buhui and the others came to the foot of the platform, and the Dazhu Peak contingent was at once swallowed up among the Zhaoyang Peak disciples, with Zhaoyang Peak robes before, behind, and on either side. Tian Buhui did not mind. He glanced at Shang Zhengliang standing some distance off; Shang Zhengliang looked back at the same moment, and as their eyes met there seemed a faint spark—but both only smiled faintly, as though nothing were amiss.

By then disciples had already brought chairs for the two seat-holders and for Su Wan and the other elders. Tian Buhui and Su Wan sat down, and Tian Lingsu came forward: "Father, Mother, I'm going up."

Tian Buhui looked at his daughter. "Go on."

A look of loving tenderness came over Su Wan's face. "Be careful in all things."

Tian Lingsu glanced at the platform, broke into a smile, showed not the slightest nervousness, and said, "Just wait for my good news."

With that she turned, her smile still in place, and with her left hand traced a hand-seal: "Rise!"

As her voice fell, a flash of rosy light shimmered, and the amber-red silk sash at her waist was summoned forth, moving beneath her feet. It bore up Tian Lingsu's slender form, and amid the glow she flew toward the platform like a fairy.

This display far outshone Shen Tiandou's monkey-like leap onto the stage, and since Tian Lingsu was beautiful as a flower and the disciples below—Zhaoyang Peak's included—were mostly young men, thunderous applause broke out at once; even beneath the distant platforms many heads turned to look.

Zhang Qingyue and the other Dazhu Peak disciples stood in a ring behind Tian Buhui and Su Wan, and heard Su Wan say with a smile to Tian Buhui: "It seems Ling'er's cultivation has advanced again."

Tian Buhui smiled faintly. He said nothing, but his expression was well pleased.

By now Tian Lingsu had flown onto the platform and stood about a *zhang* from Shen Tiandou. She cupped her hands: "Pray instruct me, Senior Brother Shen."

Seeing Tian Lingsu ride her treasure up to the stage, and seeing that the treasure shone with wave upon wave of rosy light and steamed with immortal vapor, Shen Tiandou guessed it was most likely the famous "Amber-Red Silk Sash" of Elder Su Wan of Dazhu Peak—the very treasure his master had long warned him to beware. He dared not be negligent, and cupped his hands in return: "Pray show mercy, Junior Sister Tian."

With that he stepped back, traced a sword-seal with his right hand, and a three-foot immortal sword wreathed in gray-brown radiance was summoned forth and hung crosswise before him.

Below the platform, Su Wan's brows drew together. She said in a low voice to Tian Buhui: "This sword, like Ling'er's Amber-Red Silk Sash, is a treasure of the earth element among the Five Elements. Now it will come down to which of the two has the deeper cultivation."

Tian Buhui smiled faintly. "Among the earth-element treasures of the Canglan Sect, what can compare with your Amber-Red Silk Sash? To my eye, that immortal sword is a hundred thousand *li* beneath your sash."

Su Wan gave a low *pei*. "Nonsense, as always."

Then a bell and cauldron sounded from the platform, and the match between Tian Lingsu and Shen Tiandou formally began.