Chapter 138 — The Debate on Smiting the Gods
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 4
" Lin Xuan struggled to his feet, the blood holes on his body still bleeding; Danyang Zi rushed forward with a cry, about to apply medicine, but Lin Xuan raised a hand to stop him, straightened his robes, and returned the salute: "I thank you for the teaching.
" That said, he swallowed a pill.
Danyang Zi hastily dressed his wounds with medicine lest he keep bleeding; when it was done, the old Daoist and the young one rose and saluted Shen Mu, who bowed in return, and the two Daoists put on their bamboo-woven conical hats and turned to go. Shen Mu watched them depart; then his face changed abruptly, and clutching his left hand he hissed through his teeth: "It hurts!
It hurts like death!
That old Daoist Danyang is a stingy one—he never even offered me a share of the medicine.
" The pain in his left hand and shoulder pierced to the bone; Lin Xuan's sword had wounded him to the bone.
Hissing, Shen Mu was about to go up the mountain when he stumbled, and hastily threw out a hand to steady himself on the half-dragon, half-qilin beast chained beside the path. He had consumed far too much vital qi; Sword Treads the Rivers and Mountains drained it enormously, leaving him feeling rather weak.
Shen Mu had passed the mountain gate several times and never noticed this beast; he had taken it for some sort of dragon-qilin stone carving. Yet touching it, he felt softness beneath his hand and could not help starting.
The dragon-qilin beast raised its eyes, glanced at him, then stretched out its tongue and licked his shoulder. Shen Mu felt his shoulder gradually grow cool, and then the pain faded away bit by bit; hastily he pulled open his collar and looked: the small sword wounds pierced by the sword radiance were slowly shrinking—there were more than ten of them, and all were healing.
Shen Mu was astonished: "This is .
. .
dragon saliva?
Or qilin saliva?
Whichever it is, it is a fine medicine!
" He hastily held up his palm, and the beast licked his palm as well.
Shen Mu watched the flesh of his palm slowly regrow; the flesh at the sword wound sprouted like tender leaves, and the wound soon closed, the injury to the bone seemed healed as well, and his skin quickly knitted. "Senior Brother, do you like sour apricots?
" Shen Mu crouched down, drew a jade bottle from his breast, and set it beneath the beast's muzzle, smiling: "The sour kind—the kind that sets your teeth on edge. You don't like them?
Then what of yellow plums?
Those are especially, especially sour; just think of them and your mouth will water . . .
You don't like those either? Then let me treat you to a lemon. .
. " The beast rolled its eyes at him twice, said not a word, paid him no mind, and sat there motionless, not a drop of dragon saliva or the like dripping from its mouth.
"Then what do you like to eat? " Shen Mu asked. "There's a great green ox on the mountain.
I've had my eye on it for a long time.
" The dragon-qilin beast spoke suddenly, still staring straight ahead and never moving: "Can you get it for me? " Shen Mu patted his chest and laughed: "A brother as loyal as you, I'm bound to make.
Rest easy—I'll bring it to you before long!
" The dragon-qilin was overjoyed; the drool at the corner of its mouth seemed about to fall, and then with a slurp it sucked it back. Shen Mu had no choice but to return up the mountain, thinking: "It seems I'll have to bring him that great green ox before I can cheat some dragon saliva out of him.
That ox—I think I've seen it somewhere, grazing in front of a courtyard, I believe .
.
. Yes, go ask Ling'er; she wanders all over these mountains and knows them better than I do.
" He walked up the mountain; by then the folk of the Scholars' Lodge, the Divine Power Lodge, and the Princes' Garden were waking one after another, coming down the mountain in twos and threes and passing by Shen Mu.