849 Rain and Wind, I Come, Not Alone (1/2)

In the dead of night, the Big Black Horse ran back to the Divine Hall of Light. It did not dare to bray, but kept shaking his head back and forth. Its hooves sounded especially brisk, and his mane, wet by the dew, danced incessantly.

Suddenly, it sensed that it was being watched. It turned around to look and saw the tall fat figure in the depths of the Divine Hall. It sweated buckets, washing the dew off its body cleanly.

Sangsang did not punish it for its disloyalty. She placed her hands behind her back and walked to the railings at the balcony behind the hall. She looked at the young man who was slowly falling down the precipice like a leaf and did not speak.

There were clouds covering the moon in the recent nights. The colors of the mountain ranges in the West-Hill Divine Kingdom had all turned darker and it was especially quiet. There was only the occasional shuffle at the precipice below the Divine Hall.

No one else but her could hear the sounds.

She had been standing by the railing, quietly watching since the first night. She watched as he jumped from the peach blossoms to the cliff and watched him fall dangerously. She watched as he climbed up with difficulty and watched while he waited by the eastern side of the stables every night. She watched as he returned to the bottom of the precipice silently before the sun rose.

She did not do anything but only watched silently until tonight, when she saw the man on the precipice looking up, looking towards the Divine Hall where she stood.

She knew he was looking at her and knew that he could not see her. She could see what was in his eyes—Indifference. It wasn't an indifference where he did not care, but was one where he sent his thoughts out. In other words, he was projecting his missing her to the balcony of the Divine Hall of Light.

She was the one he missed. She was Haotian, and not even mankind, which amounted to ants, had any right to miss her. That was why she felt that this was a great disrespect to her and should even be called blasphemy.

The hatred and anger in her subconscious burst forth once more as she found them hard to repress.

Just like how the thoughts in the man's eyes had burst forth, unable to be repressed.

A crazy wind started above the seas, several thousand miles away in the Kingdom of Song, whistling in the high and distant night dome. It caused the clouds above the Kingdom of God to shake uneasily, as if they were bouncing pieces of cotton below a string which could be torn apart any time.

The peach blossoms in the mountains shook and hundreds and thousands of petals fell in the wind. The countless Divine Halls on the Peach Mountain had roofs made of gold and jade, and they started to issue howling and crying sounds.

The Divine Hall of Light was high up at the peak and no matter how good Ning Que's eyesight was, he would not be able to see it clearly. And even if he could, he would not be able to see the tall and plump woman standing at the railings of the balcony. Furthermore, in his imagination, if he were Romeo, the precipice would have been the area beneath the balcony and the girl standing by the railings should be thin and tanned.

He looked at the spot and smiled, tossing his thoughts and his sense of loss regarding his unknown fate into the depths of his sense of perception. He calmed himself down and continued his descent down the precipice.

It was then when a gust of crazy wind blew from the mountains, bringing with it the heavy stench of sea water and colliding onto him. His face felt damp and cold, and when mixed with the vague sense of light he had felt earlier on, it broke the Dhyana State that he had been maintaining.

Since the Dhyana State had been broken, Ning Que naturally released his Emblematic Gesture. What was even more terrifying was that, no matter how calm he was during the danger and how he had tried to return to the Dhyana State, he was unable to make the gesture again.

The wind was simply too cold and strong. It whipped around his body, howling. And everytime he wanted to make the Emblematic Gesture, it would dissipate it.

Unable to use the Emblematic Gesture of the Buddhism Sect, Ning Que no longer had any connection with the precipice. He was blown by the strong winds towards the deep abyss. He was no longer falling like a leaf, but like a rock.

The fall this time was even more frightening than the first night. He had only just breathed and had already fallen several hundred feet down the precipice. His speed was growing faster and faster!

He fell into the deep night fog, and Haotian no longer cared for him. He might be forced out by the precipice at the next moment and could find nowhere to place his hands. He would break through the fog and fall to his death.

Ning Que made the strongest and fastest response in in such a dire situation. He harrumphed and the Great Spirit in his body burst out. He stretched out his hands forcefully like two sharp blades and pierced them into the hard rock walls of the cliff. There were two cracking sounds, and his steel-like hands had broken two holes two feet deep into the wall, stopping his descent and allowing him to stop on the precipice.

He had not gotten out of danger, even though he was clinging on tightly to the precipice. He was no longer able to maintain the Buddhism Sect's Dhyana State and the Isolated Array on the precipice began to attack his eyes and his sense of perception. He could only bear the pain in his eyes and the waves in his sense of perception, clinging tightly to the icy cold walls.

Something even more bizarre happened. The forces he once noticed in the cloud and mist on the precipice swam up like snakes and filled his body surface in a very short time.

Ning Que endured the pain in his sense of perception and released his Psyche Power to sense it. He could not ascertain what those wisps of power were, and when he looked with his naked eye, he found that they were just wisps of fog.

The fog swirling between the Peach Mountain and the precipice was responsible for sealing the You Prison. It was naturally not a simple fog. Those wisps of fog had mysteriously seeped through his clothing and into his body. He did not bleed, butfelt a clear pain and a cutting feeling that entered with the fog. He felt as if he was being cut by countless sharp knives.

At this time, Ning Que respected the Abbey Dean whom he fought with in Chang'an. It was because he had finally understood how it felt like to be cut by hundreds and thousands of blades.