The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 13

Alliance Chief of the jianghu.

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor¹ sat with his eyes half open, half shut, appearing utterly indifferent to the battle unfolding before him. In truth, he saw everything with perfect clarity. Noticing that Huo Dou² had fallen into a disadvantageous position, he suddenly spoke: “Agusijinde’er, mimahasideng, qi’er qi’er hu!”³ None of the onlookers understood what these Mongolian words meant, but Huo Dou knew his master was reminding him not to cling solely to defence, he must use the “Violent Gale Thunder Skill”⁴ to seize the offensive. Immediately he let out a long howl, his right fan and left sleeve whipping up a fierce gust of wind as he lunged at Zhu Ziliu.⁵

The force of the gale was fierce and sharp. The spectators found themselves backing away without realising it. From Huo Dou’s mouth came a continuous thunderous bellowing to bolster his attack, and they understood that this Violent Gale Thunder Skill, beyond its weapons and fist-and-foot techniques, employed roaring cries as a formidable method of subduing the enemy. Zhu Ziliu, however, wielded his brush with sweeping flourishes, advancing and retreating at will, holding his own against the onslaught.

The two men battled through more than a hundred moves. Zhu Ziliu was nearing the end of his “Self-Statement”⁶ transcription when his brushwork suddenly changed. His strokes slowed, turning thin and hard, rich with archaic spirit. Huang Rong⁷ murmured to herself: “The ancients said, ‘Only when lean and hard can one penetrate the divine.’ This set, the ‘Baoxie Road Stone Inscriptions’⁸, is truly a wonder the ages have never seen.”

Huo Dou continued to counter with the Violent Gale Thunder Skill, but as his opponent’s power intensified, he put more force into his fan and his shouts grew even fiercer. Those among the spectators with weaker martial arts could no longer keep their footing in the main hall and retreated step by step into the courtyard.

Huang Rong noticed Yang Guo⁹ and Xiaolongnü¹⁰ sitting side by side against a pillar, no more than ten feet from the two men locked in mortal combat. They leaned against each other, whispering softly, paying not the slightest attention to the duel. The sash of Xiaolongnü’s robe fluttered wildly in the fierce wind, yet she remained perfectly composed, gazing at Yang Guo with eyes full of tender affection. The more Huang Rong watched, the more curious she became. Before long, she found herself studying the two of them more than Huo Dou and Zhu Ziliu. This young girl seems to possess high-level martial arts, she thought. Guoer is so intimate with her. I wonder which great master she studied under.

Xiaolongnü was now past twenty, but because she had grown up inside the Ancient Tomb,¹¹ never seeing sunlight, her skin remained delicate and youthful, and her beauty-preserving neili¹² was highly cultivated, so she looked no older than sixteen or seventeen. Before meeting Yang Guo, she had rarely experienced joy, anger, grief, or pleasure, the seven emotions and six desires¹³ are what most damage the body and age the face, and for her, two years passed as one. Had she truly followed her master’s teachings and cultivated her heart in purity, not only could she have expected to live past a hundred, but at that age her physical strength and appearance would still have been no less than a fifty-year-old’s. Thus, in Huang Rong’s eyes, she seemed even younger than Yang Guo, and her manner, childlike, unpolished, innocent and pure, was even more pronounced than Guo Fu’s.¹⁴ No wonder Huang Rong took her for a little girl.

Yang Guo gazed at Xiaolongnü and saw that her hair had come loose. He gently reached out to smooth it, pulled out the thornwood hairpin¹⁵ from her hair, tidied her locks, and replaced the pin. Xiaolongnü said, “Guoer,¹⁶ all the way here searching for you, I never bothered with my hair. No one was looking at me anyway. I only love it when you look at me. When you are not beside me to look at me, I am unhappy. When I could not find you, I cried. I cried so sadly. You were bad. You did not come to comfort me.” As she spoke, her upper body swayed slightly, as though she were acting coquettish.

When Xiaolongnü was very young, her master had taught her never to stir her emotions. Crying was forbidden, and so was laughing, in all things she was to remain blank and still, her heart like water without a ripple. Grandma Sun,¹⁷ following the school’s teachings, had likewise never allowed Xiaolongnü to express joy or sorrow. As a result, from childhood she had never learned to plead for anything, much less had any opportunity to act spoiled or petulant toward her master or Grandma Sun. After she became Yang Guo’s teacher, she maintained the dignity of her station, her expression solemn. When Yang Guo joked and laughed, though she found it amusing, she never laughed or responded. But for a young woman to act coy in order to win a lover’s affection is an instinct born with her, even a girl of five or six will coo and pout at her parents without ever being taught. Once Xiaolongnü left the Ancient Tomb, her heart and mind were wholly set on loving Yang Guo. She had long since cast her master’s old teachings to the farthest clouds. She now followed her nature: happy when she wished to be happy, sad when she wished to be sad, no longer forcing herself to restrain the natural feelings of her heart. Seeing how dear and lovable she looked, Yang Guo tightened his left arm around her shoulder and said, “Guoer was wrong not to come and comfort you.” He took her right hand with his own and gently patted it against his cheek. “Hit this bad boy.”

Xiaolongnü asked, “After you lost me, how many times a day did you think of me?” Yang Guo said, “After you left, I came out to search for you. From morning to night, I searched, calling out: ‘Gugu,¹⁸ Gugu!’” Xiaolongnü smiled faintly. “So did you think of me or not?” Yang Guo said, “Of course I did. At least two hundred times a day.” Xiaolongnü said, “Two hundred is not enough. I want three hundred.” Yang Guo said, “I thought of you four hundred times a day, two hundred in the morning, and two hundred more in the afternoon.” Xiaolongnü said, “When you ate, you thought of me too. That is one hundred more, five hundred times a day.” Yang Guo said, “When I ate, I did think of you. I was so lost in thought that noodles went up my nose.” Xiaolongnü burst out laughing. “That must have felt awful.” Yang Guo said, “I did not care. I sniffed with my nose, sucked the noodles from my nostril into my mouth, and swallowed them down.” Xiaolongnü pursed her lips. “Oh, that is filthy!” Yang Guo said, “Not filthy, not filthy. I have eaten noodles that way since I was little. It tastes rather good, actually. When I thought of you at meals, I would murmur ‘Gugu, Gugu’ with my mouth, and since my mouth was busy, I used my nose to eat noodles.” Xiaolongnü was deeply moved. “Guoer is so good! When you could not sleep at night, that is another hundred times.”

Yang Guo said, “Not sleeping at night will not do. I have to sleep so I can dream, so that every night I dream of you, holding you tight, saying: ‘My darling, my sweet little wife, I want you to be my wife!’ Calling you and kissing your face, and kissing your beautiful eyes.” Xiaolongnü sighed. “You said you want me to be your wife, that is so good. Of course I want to be. Then in your dreams you think of me too, that is another hundred times. In the future, if we are apart, you must think of me at least six hundred times a day.” Yang Guo said, “From now on, we will never be apart. If we really must be, I will think of you seven hundred times a day.” Xiaolongnü said, “Eight hundred!” Yang Guo said, “Nine hundred!” Xiaolongnü said, “A thousand!” Yang Guo’s heart blazed with passion. He could barely resist pulling her close and kissing her. But with a hall full of watching eyes, and having grown up to the age of ten and more in the world of men, he felt it improper and forced himself to hold back. Yet he could feel Xiaolongnü’s body growing warm against his.

When Xiaolongnü was small, her master and Grandma Sun, though they loved her, had never shown it, always treating her with cold reserve. Only now, with Yang Guo, did she receive such boundless affection and tender care, an experience she had never known. The joy and sweetness in her heart were truly beyond words. Her whole body softened, and she leaned against him.

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At this moment, the two combatants in the centre of the hall had reached a critical stage. Zhu Ziliu’s brushwork grew uglier and more awkward with every stroke, yet the power behind it steadily intensified. His strokes were like spider-silk clinging to a wall: forceful yet empty. Huo Dou was secretly alarmed and found the patterns increasingly difficult to read. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor shouted: “Mami bami, gusi heisi.”¹⁹ No one knew what these eight words meant, but they made every ear in the hall ring. Zhu Ziliu grew agitated. If he changes his technique again, he thought, who knows when this fight will end? I, a former prime minister of the Dali Kingdom,²⁰ fighting the opening bout for the Great Song²¹. I absolutely must not lose and bring shame upon my nation and my master. Suddenly his brushwork shifted again. He no longer wielded the brush as though writing characters, but as though holding an axe and chisel, carving into stone.

Guo Fu noticed this too. “Uncle Zhu is engraving characters?” she asked.

Huang Rong smiled. “My daughter is not so foolish after all. This set of finger techniques is the Stone Drum Script.²² They are characters carved into stone drums with axes and chisels during the Spring and Autumn period.²³ See if you can read what Uncle Zhu is engraving.” Guo Fu followed the brush strokes with her eyes but saw only tangled, coiling lines that looked like little pictures. She could not make out a single character. Huang Rong laughed. “This is the most ancient form of great seal script.²⁴ No wonder you cannot read it. I cannot recognise all of it either.” Guo Fu clapped her hands and laughed. “That Mongol fool certainly will not be able to. Mother, look at him, sweating all over, flailing around in a panic!”

Indeed, Huo Dou could recognise only one or two characters of this ancient seal script. Not knowing what characters his opponent was writing, he naturally could not guess the structure and stroke patterns, and he struggled to defend himself. Zhu Ziliu wrote out character after character. The text itself was ancient and profound, and the Yiyang Finger²⁵ that formed the basis of his calligraphy correspondingly grew in power. Huo Dou swept his fan out, but was a moment too slow pulling it back. Zhu Ziliu flicked his brush and inscribed a great-seal character upon the fan.

Huo Dou stared. “Is that the character for ‘net’?” he asked blankly.

Zhu Ziliu laughed. “No, that is the character for ‘thou.’”²⁶ Immediately he extended his brush and wrote another character on the fan. Huo Dou said, “That must be the character for ‘moon’?” Zhu Ziliu shook his head. “Wrong. That is the character for ‘art.’”²⁷ Huo Dou was thoroughly dispirited. He shook his fan, trying to evade the brush tip and prevent further inscriptions, but unexpectedly Zhu Ziliu launched a fierce attack with his left palm. Huo Dou hurriedly raised his palm to parry, only for the brush to slip through his guard and inscribe two more characters. Zhu Ziliu wrote too quickly to use great seal script and used cursive²⁸ instead. These, Huo Dou could read. “Barbarian!” he cried.

Zhu Ziliu roared with laughter. “Correct, ‘Thou art a barbarian.’”²⁹ The heroes of the Central Plains, who bitterly resented the Mongol cavalry’s invasions and their slaughter of the common people, all nursed deep grievances in their hearts. Hearing Zhu Ziliu curse him with “Thou art a barbarian,” they burst into a thunderous cheer.

Huo Dou, battered by Zhu Ziliu’s four styles, regular, cursive, clerical, and seal³⁰, in the “Yiyang Calligraphy Finger” technique, could barely hold on. His courage had long since failed him. The roar of applause threw his mind into further chaos. He saw Zhu Ziliu brandish his brush and write three more characters in the air. The thought of trying to read them never even crossed his mind. He could only raise his fan with all his might to protect his face and vital points in the chest. Suddenly he felt a numbing sensation at his knee, his opponent had reversed the brush and struck his acupoint³¹ with the handle. Huo Dou felt a piercing ache and weakness in the hollow of his knee. He was about to collapse to his knees. If I kneel, he thought, I will never be able to hold my head up again. He forcibly drew a breath and rushed it toward the acupoint in his knee, trying to leap away and concede defeat. But Zhu Ziliu’s brush came swift as lightning, striking again. Using the brush handle in place of a finger, he applied the Yiyang Finger technique in a chain of attacks, how could Huo Dou withstand it? His knee went numb and soft, and at last he dropped to his knees, his face drained of all colour.

The heroes erupted in jubilation. Guo Jing³² said to Huang Rong, “Your clever scheme has worked.” Huang Rong smiled faintly.

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The Wu brothers³³ had been watching from the sidelines, deeply awed by the endless transformations of their martial uncle Zhu’s Yiyang Finger technique. “If only I could one day reach his level,” each thought privately. One called, “Elder Brother!” and the other, “Younger Brother!” Both had the same thought, to voice their admiration for their martial uncle’s skill, when suddenly they heard Zhu Ziliu cry out in agony. They whipped their heads around and saw him toppling backward onto the ground.

The shock struck everyone at once. What had happened? Huo Dou had been unable to support himself and had knelt. Zhu Ziliu, believing he had sealed the man’s acupoint with the Yiyang Finger, a method wholly different from ordinary pressure-point techniques and difficult for anyone else to undo, reached out and pressed several spots on Huo Dou’s ribs, circulating his energy to release the sealed point. But the moment Huo Dou’s acupoint was freed, murderous intent surged within him. Groaning faintly, before he had even straightened up, his right thumb pressed the mechanism on his fan handle. Four poisoned darts³⁴ flew from the fan ribs and embedded themselves in Zhu Ziliu’s body. In a contest between masters, once victory and defeat are decided, no further attack is permitted. With the entire hall watching, who could have imagined he would launch a treacherous ambush? Had Huo Dou fired his hidden weapons during the fight, the fan-rib darts, clever as they were, could never have harmed his opponent. But now, as Zhu Ziliu was releasing his acupoint, the two stood barely a foot apart, and with Zhu Ziliu acting in good faith to help him, he could never have expected his kindness to be repaid with malice. When hidden weapons are launched at close range, even the highest martial arts cannot evade them. The four darts were coated with a fierce poison harvested from the snowy mountains of Mongolia. The moment Zhu Ziliu was struck, unbearable pain and itching coursed through his entire body, and he could no longer stand.

The heroes were beside themselves with shock and fury. They jabbed their fingers at Huo Dou, denouncing his vile treachery. Huo Dou laughed. “This prince has turned defeat into victory. Where is the shame in that? Before our contest, no one said hidden weapons were forbidden. If this Brother Zhu had struck this prince with hidden weapons first, I would simply have accepted my fate.” Though everyone felt his argument was sheer sophistry, they could not refute it on the spot, and the torrent of abuse continued.

Guo Jing rushed forward and gathered Zhu Ziliu in his arms. He saw the four small darts embedded in his chest and the strange expression on his face. Realising the poison on the hidden weapons was unusual, he swiftly sealed three major acupoints to slow the blood flow, close the meridians, and prevent the poison from spreading to the heart. “What do we do?” he asked Huang Rong. Huang Rong frowned in silence, knowing that to counteract this poison they would certainly need Huo Dou or the Golden Wheel National Preceptor to administer the antidote personally. But how to seize the antidote, for the moment, she was at a loss.

The Diancang Fisherman,³⁵ seeing his junior brother so gravely poisoned, was torn between worry and rage. He hitched up the hem of his robe, stuffed it into his sash, and was about to charge out to fight Huo Dou. Huang Rong, weighing the overall strategy of the contest, thought, The enemy has already won one bout. If Senior Brother Fisherman goes out, Da’erba³⁶ will answer, and we have no certainty of victory. She quickly called, “Senior Brother, wait!” The Diancang Fisherman asked, “What is it?” For all her bottomless resourcefulness, Huang Rong could find no words. Having already lost the first bout, the next two would be exceedingly difficult.

Huo Dou, having taken the victory from Zhu Ziliu by trickery, stood at the entrance to the hall, thoroughly pleased with himself, sweeping his gaze around with an air of insufferable arrogance. His glance fell upon Xiaolongnü and Yang Guo, sitting side by side on the stone plinth, holding hands and talking with rapt attention, treating his victory as though it were beneath notice. Rage surged within him. He jabbed his fan at Yang Guo and barked: “Little beast, stand up.”

Yang Guo was utterly absorbed in Xiaolongnü. It seemed to him that in all the vast world, nothing else could divide his attention. Thus, while Huo Dou and Zhu Ziliu had fought until the heavens turned upside down, he had neither seen nor heard a thing. During those years with Xiaolongnü in the Ancient Tomb, he had not truly realised that his feelings for her were carved into his very bones, that he would live and die for her. When she had asked him that day whether he wanted her as his wife, the question had come so suddenly, he had never dared entertain such a thought in his heart, that he had been stunned into silence. After Xiaolongnü vanished without a trace, he had said it to himself thousands upon thousands of times: “I want it. Of course I want it. I would rather die this instant than not have Gugu as my wife.”

The love between him and Xiaolongnü had sprouted without either of them knowing it. Only when they parted did it burst forth, lush and wild, beyond all restraint. Yang Guo was, of course, a boy who feared neither heaven nor earth, and Xiaolongnü understood nothing whatsoever of the world’s customs and proprieties. She simply thought, If I wish to love, I shall love. If I wish to rejoice, I shall rejoice. What business is it of anyone else? And so, one indifferent and one oblivious, the two of them sat amid a thousand watching eyes, on a field of savage combat, holding hands and speaking words of tender passion.

Yang Guo’s heart surged with emotion. “I am used to calling you ‘Gugu’ with my mouth,” he said, “but in my heart I call you ‘wife.’”

Xiaolongnü smiled faintly. “Good. When no one else is around, you may call me ‘wife.’ Mm, wife, wife. I love it when you call me that.”

Yang Guo said, “Then for all your life you must be my wife.”

Xiaolongnü said, “That goes without saying. Would I only do it for three days or four? I will not allow it, and neither can you. You must be my husband forever. You are not allowed to change your heart.”

Yang Guo said, “Of course I will never, ever change my heart or betray you. Senior Martial Aunt Li³⁷ stirs up trouble and spreads lies, always trying to make you sad. Do not believe her.”

Xiaolongnü nodded and said with absolute finality, “Mm. She is a bad woman.”

Huo Dou cursed again, but Yang Guo still did not hear. Huo Dou was about to rebuke him further when the Golden Wheel National Preceptor commanded: “Our side has won one bout. We may proceed to the second contest.” Huo Dou shot Yang Guo a venomous glare, withdrew to his seat, and announced loudly: “Our side has won the first bout. For the second, my second senior brother Da’erba will take the field. Which hero from your side will offer instruction?”

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Da’erba drew a weapon from beneath his crimson kasaya³⁸ and strode to the centre of the hall. The sight of his weapon sent a chill through the crowd: it was a golden vajra pestle,³⁹ thick and long. Such vajra demon-subduing pestles were customarily wielded by dharma-protecting elders⁴⁰ in Esoteric Buddhism.⁴¹ It was not unusual for Tibetan or Mongolian monks to carry them as weapons, but Da’erba’s demon-subduing pestle was a full four feet in length, its head as thick as a rice bowl, its shaft gleaming with golden light as though forged from a mixture of gold and steel, or perhaps a steel pestle coated with layers of gold. Its weight was obvious at a glance.

He came to the centre of the hall, pressed his palms together in salute to the assembled heroes, then raised the golden pestle and hurled it high into the air. It came crashing down with a thunderous bang, smashing two large grey-blue floor tiles to powder and burying itself more than a foot deep in the earth. This opening display spoke volumes, the pestle’s weight was plain, and that a monk so lean and wizened could wield it spoke equally plainly of his martial prowess and physical strength.

Huang Rong thought, Jing Gege⁴² could certainly subdue this reckless monk, but then the National Preceptor would take the third bout, and we have no one who can stop him. This contest is already lost. I have no choice. I will have to pit my skill against his and fight by cunning. She picked up the Dog-Beating Staff⁴³ and said, “I will go.”

Guo Jing was horrified. “No, no, you cannot. You are unwell. How can you fight?” Huang Rong herself felt far from certain of victory, but if she lost this bout, there would be no need for a third. As she hesitated, the Diancang Fisherman called out: “Chief Huang, let me face this villainous monk.” Seeing his junior brother writhing in unbearable numbness and itching from the poison, his heart burned with urgency, and he was desperate for revenge. Huang Rong, having no better plan, thought, All we can do now is fight with all we have. If he defeats the Mongol monk, Jing Gege can then match strength against strength and settle matters with the National Preceptor. She said, “Senior Brother, please be careful.”

The Wu brothers brought forth their martial uncle’s two iron oars.⁴⁴ The Diancang Fisherman tucked them under his arms and walked to the centre of the hall. His eyes blazed red. He circled Da’erba once. Da’erba, utterly baffled, simply turned to follow him. With a sudden thunderous roar, the Fisherman raised both oars and brought them crashing down toward Da’erba’s skull. Da’erba reached down, pulled his demon-subduing pestle from the ground, and parried. Oar met pestle with a deafening clang that set every ear ringing. Both men felt a dull ache in the webs of their thumbs and knew the other possessed tremendous strength. Each leapt backward. Da’erba spoke a sentence in Mongolian. The Fisherman answered with a curse in the Bai⁴⁵ tongue of Dali. Neither understood a word. Suddenly they closed in again, oar and pestle struck as one, and another metallic crash resounded.

This was a savage contest, nothing like the elegant duel between Zhu Ziliu and Huo Dou. Bronze cauldron against iron jar, brute force against brute force. Each man relied on the highest levels of external hard-style martial arts,⁴⁶ oar and pestle generating fierce winds as the spectators watched in terror.

The Diancang Fisherman had always possessed immense natural strength. During his years of seclusion with Great Master Yideng⁴⁷ in western Hunan,⁴⁸ he had rowed his iron oars daily against fierce upstream currents, tempering his arms until the sinews and bones were like iron. As Great Master Yideng’s eldest disciple, he had received the most direct instruction. Among the four great disciples, his martial arts had always ranked first, though his natural gifts were inferior and his neili⁴⁹ fell short of Zhu Ziliu’s. But his external hard-style skills were fearsome in the extreme. Now, matching external skill against external skill with Da’erba, he was playing precisely to his strengths. His twin oars danced through the air in ferocious, straight-line attacks. Each iron oar weighed over fifty jin,⁵⁰ yet he wielded them with the ease of an ordinary man swinging a blade weighing a few jin.

Da’erba had always prided himself on having no equal in physical strength. Never had he imagined meeting such a titan of divine force in the Central Plains. Not only was his opponent immensely strong, but his moves were far more refined. Da’erba now brought the full power of his vajra pestle to bear. Pestle against oar, oar against pestle, both men favoured attack over defence.

During the duel between Zhu Ziliu and Huo Dou, the spectators in the hall had already scattered to avoid the stray attacks. Now, with three heavy weapons colliding, it was not only the fierce wind that was hard to endure, the thunderous crashes of oar against pestle were almost unbearable in themselves. Most of the crowd watched with hands pressed over their ears. In the glow of the candlelight, the golden pestle transformed into a beam of golden light, while the wrought-iron oars became two streams of black vapour, intertwining as they clashed.

Few among those present had ever witnessed such a duel. More perilous scenes certainly existed, but when masters contest their internal energies, the inner struggle is desperately intense while the outward appearance remains calm. As for the feints and counters of fist, foot, and weapon, there may be greater cleverness, but for sheer savagery, nothing could compare. Men of the Diancang Fisherman’s divine strength were already rare in the world. For two men of equal power and comparable skill to meet in such ferocious combat, that was rarer still, and harder to witness.

Guo Jing and Huang Rong watched with sweat-drenched hands. Guo Jing said, “Ronger,⁵¹ do you think we can win?” Huang Rong said, “It is too soon to tell.” Guo Jing knew perfectly well that the outcome could not yet be determined, but he had hoped his wife would say, “The Fisherman will win,” just to ease his heart.

They fought on through several dozen more moves. Neither man’s strength flagged in the slightest, instead, their vigour seemed to grow. The Diancang Fisherman pressed his attack with both oars, bellowing to bolster his power. Da’erba asked, “What did you say?” He spoke in Mongolian, which the Fisherman could not understand. The Fisherman also asked, “What did you say?” Da’erba understood even less. The two proceeded to curse at each other while fighting savagely, until tables and chairs were reduced to splinters flying through the hall. The onlookers feared that a single careless blow against a pillar might bring the entire hall crashing down.

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor and Huo Dou were also secretly alarmed. If the battle continued at this pitch, even if Da’erba won, he would surely collapse from exhaustion or suffer grave injury. But with the fight at its fiercest, how could it be stopped?

The two men leapt and bounded, roaring as they battled. The yellow light and black vapour dimmed the candles. Then came an earth-shaking crash, and with a simultaneous roar, both men sprang apart. The Fisherman’s right iron oar had met the golden pestle in a full-force clash. The oar’s shaft, being thinner, could not match the pestle’s solidity and snapped in two. The broken blade flew through the air and landed with a clang at Xiaolongnü’s feet.

Xiaolongnü was deep in conversation with Yang Guo, paying no attention at all. The oar blade struck the brick floor, shattering a tile. A small shard bounced up and struck her left foot on the toe. She cried out in pain and jumped up. Only then did Yang Guo realise what had happened. “Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously. Xiaolongnü rubbed her toe, her face pained.

Yang Guo was furious, and his heart flooded with protective tenderness. First, he pulled Xiaolongnü close, shielding her from any further harm, then turned to find who had hurled the iron plate that shattered the tile and hurt his Gugu. He saw the Diancang Fisherman holding the broken oar in his right hand, arguing with Da’erba, insisting on continuing the fight with the single remaining oar. Da’erba shook his head repeatedly. He knew that his opponent’s strength and skill were evenly matched with his own. Another bout would be hard to win, and since he had gained the advantage in weaponry, this contest was already his.

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Huo Dou stepped forward and declared loudly: “We have won two of the three bouts. The position of Alliance Chief of the jianghu⁵² therefore belongs to my master. Everyone…” Before he could finish, Yang Guo said to the Fisherman, “Why did your iron oar break and fly over to hurt my Gugu?” The Fisherman stammered, “I… I…” Yang Guo said, “You should have made your oar sturdier. Go and apologise at once.” The Fisherman, seeing he was just a boy, ignored him. Yang Guo suddenly reached out, snatched the broken oar from his grasp, and shouted, “Apologise to my Gugu this instant.”

Huo Dou, his speech interrupted, was furious. “Little beast! Get out of here!” he barked.

Yang Guo called back, “Who is the little beast cursing?” Hearing the question, Huo Dou answered without thinking, “The little beast is cursing you!” How could he know that the children of Jiangnan⁵³ always used this verbal trap? He had walked right into it. Yang Guo roared with laughter. “Correct, it is indeed a little beast cursing me!” The atmosphere in the hall had been tense to the breaking point, but this sudden diversion from the youth made everyone laugh. Huo Dou was enraged. He thrust his folding fan straight at Yang Guo’s head.

The heroes had all witnessed Huo Dou’s martial prowess. If this fan blow landed on Yang Guo’s head, death or grave injury was certain. “Stop!” they shouted. “You cannot bully the young!”

Guo Jing rushed forward, reaching to seize the fan, but Yang Guo ducked his head and slipped under Huo Dou’s arm. Swinging the oar handle, he used the “Entwine”⁵⁴ formula of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique to hook behind Huo Dou’s foot. Huo Dou lost his footing and staggered, nearly falling. Fortunately, his martial arts were strong, and he transformed the stumble into a leap, springing into the air and landing firmly.

Guo Jing stared. “Guoer, what was that?”

Yang Guo laughed. “Nothing much. This fellow looks down on Old Chief Hong’s Dog-Beating Staff Technique, so I thought I would use it to trip him up. Too bad he got away.”

Guo Jing was astonished. “How do you know how to use it?”

Yang Guo lied smoothly. “Just now, when Chief Lu fought him, I watched and picked up a few moves.” Guo Jing, whose own natural gifts were dull, assumed there were many clever people in the world and believed him eight or nine parts out of ten.

Huo Dou, having been tripped by Yang Guo, assumed it was his own carelessness. How could he imagine that a boy of fourteen or fifteen possessed such advanced martial arts? The contest for Alliance Chief is the important matter, he thought. I will deal with this brat after the formalities. He strode up to Guo Jing and declared loudly: “Hero Guo, today’s contest is our victory. My master, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor, is the Alliance Chief of the jianghu Under Heaven. Is there anyone who disagrees…”

Before he could finish, Yang Guo crept up behind him, thrust the oar handle forward, and used the fourth formula of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique. “Jab”⁵⁵, stabbing toward his buttocks. With Huo Dou’s level of martial cultivation, how could he not sense a sneak attack from behind? But first, he had never taken Yang Guo seriously, and second, the Dog-Beating Staff Technique was truly wondrous and unfathomable. Though he sensed the danger and twisted aside, he was still a few inches too slow. Thump, the handle struck him squarely on the rear. For all his profound neili, and though the buttocks are a fleshy region, the blow was still quite painful. More than that, it was utterly unexpected. He had been certain he would evade it, yet it had struck him nonetheless, and he could not help crying out. Yang Guo shouted, “What was that? I disagree!”

In an instant, laughter erupted through the hall. The heroes all thought, This boy is not only mischievous, but audacious too, the Mongol prince has fallen for his tricks twice now.

At this point, how could Huo Dou not be furious? He swung a backhand palm, meaning to slap the boy senseless first and vent his spleen. Though it was a casual backhand, the force and momentum it carried represented the essence of Mongolian Vajra Sect⁵⁶ martial arts. He intended to lay the boy out cold with a single blow. Guo Jing knew how dangerous it was. His left hand shot out, hooked back, and seized Huo Dou’s palm. “Surely,” he urged, “you cannot stoop to the level of a child.” Huo Dou, caught in that grip, felt half his body go numb and was stunned with shock and fury.

Yang Guo seized the opening, swung the oar handle sideways, and landed a heavy blow on Huo Dou’s rear. “Little beast won’t listen to reason,” he called. “Daddy’s going to spank you!” Guo Jing barked, “Guoer, step back at once! No more mischief!” But the heroes were already laughing so hard they could barely stand.

The Mongol warriors began shouting: “Two against one?” “Have you no shame?” “Does this count as a contest?” Guo Jing, taken aback, released Huo Dou.

Huang Rong had seen that Yang Guo’s trip and jab were indeed moves from the Dog-Beating Staff Technique, and grave doubt filled her mind. Where did he steal this staff technique? Could he have been spying every day during these months while I taught Lu Youjiao? But each time I taught, I checked the surroundings carefully. How could he have hidden from me? She called, “Jing Gege, come here.” Guo Jing returned to his wife’s side, though his eyes never left the two figures in the centre of the hall, worried that Yang Guo might come to harm.

Huo Dou was now striking with palm and kicking with foot in a relentless assault on Yang Guo. Yang Guo dodged and weaved, shouting all the while: “Spank your bottom! Spank your bottom!” He swung the oar handle repeatedly at Huo Dou’s rear, but now that Huo Dou was using his full movement technique, every blow missed. Huo Dou tried to strike Yang Guo’s head with his fan, while Yang Guo tried to hit Huo Dou’s backside with the oar handle. The two chased each other in rapid circles around the hall, neither landing a blow.

The spectators initially found it comical and bizarre, but after they had circled several times, amazement set in. Young as he was, Yang Guo moved with light, swift steps. His lightness skill⁵⁷ seemed to surpass his opponent’s. Several times Huo Dou rushed in for a strike, only for Yang Guo to evade with clever footwork.

The Diancang Fisherman and Da’erba had been standing with weapons raised, glaring at each other, one ready to charge back into the fight, the other fully alert against a sudden attack. But seeing that Huo Dou could not handle this boy, both were astonished. One split his mouth in a broad grin. The other muttered curses in Mongolian.

In the blink of an eye, Huo Dou and Yang Guo had circled three more times. Huo Dou had now gauged his opponent’s lightness skill. Pursuing him in a chase might even result in a loss. He suddenly spun around, thrust his left palm out to grab the oar handle, and jabbed his fan toward the “Leaping Circle”⁵⁸ acupoint on Yang Guo’s thigh. This was no longer the disciplining of a naughty child, it was now a formal contest.

Yang Guo still refused to engage directly. He twisted aside to evade the fan and swung the oar handle sideways, shouting: “Daddy’s going to spank you! No more than three times a day. I have hit you twice, I still owe you one!” To clown around like this during a fight normally required martial arts far superior to the opponent’s to avoid disaster. Yang Guo had indeed learned many advanced techniques, but his cultivation level was far below his opponent’s. Such foolery should have brought certain doom. But the heroes were thoroughly entertained, cheering and jeering, clapping and stomping to encourage him. The noise rattled Huo Dou, who was terrified that before the eyes of all the heroes under heaven, this brat might land one more blow on his rear. Even if he killed the boy on the spot afterward, the humiliation would be colossal. So he focused entirely on evasion and, for the moment, forgot to counterattack. This was how Yang Guo had so far escaped danger.

By now, Huang Rong had long since seen that Yang Guo had received instruction from a great master, and that his martial arts were genuinely impressive. She also recalled how, earlier that day, he had used his neili to help regulate her breathing, his internal cultivation was likewise remarkable. Let him stir up chaos for a while, she thought. Perhaps he can somehow reverse the momentum of two consecutive defeats. She called out loudly: “Guoer, fight him properly. I do not think he is your match.”

Yang Guo stuck out his tongue at Huo Dou. “Do you dare?” He planted himself and pointed at Huo Dou’s nose.

Huo Dou was furious, but he reminded himself that a great scheme must not be undone by petty anger. His side had already won two bouts and secured the Alliance Chief position. Why stir up new trouble over a boy? “Little beast,” he said, “so mischievous, you certainly need a thorough lesson, but there is no rush for that. Now, let the Alliance Chief of the jianghu Under Heaven, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor, address the assembly. Everyone shall heed his venerable commands.” The heroes roared in protest, a clamour of angry shouts.

Huo Dou declared loudly: “We agreed beforehand, best of three bouts. Are the words of heroes the words of men, or not?”

The heroes were all established figures of the jianghu.⁵⁹ They well understood that a team of four horses could not overtake a word once spoken.⁶⁰ To go back on their word, that they would never do. Yet these two bouts had been lost so unjustly: the first reversed by a treacherous ambush, the second merely by a broken weapon. But to insist they had not lost was also difficult to justify. Confronted with his question, for a moment no one could answer.

Yang Guo spoke up. “This old monk is so tall, so thin, so strange-looking. How can he be Alliance Chief? I say he is not fit.”

Huo Dou snarled, “Who is this child’s master? Take him away and discipline him. If he keeps making trouble here, I will not show mercy.”

Yang Guo said, “My master is the one fit to be Alliance Chief. What skill does your master have?”

Huo Dou asked, “Who is your master? Please invite them forth.” Seeing that Yang Guo’s skills were far from ordinary, he assumed his master must be an expert, and so he used the word “please.”

Yang Guo said, “Today, in the contest for Alliance Chief, it is the disciples who fight on behalf of their masters, is it not?”

Huo Dou said, “Correct. We won two of three bouts. Therefore my master is Alliance Chief.”

Yang Guo said, “Fine. Suppose you beat them, so what? You have not beaten my master’s disciple.”

Huo Dou asked, “Who is your master’s disciple?”

Yang Guo laughed. “Fool! My master’s disciple, that would be me.”

The heroes found this so amusing that they all burst out laughing.

Yang Guo laughed too. “Let us also fight three bouts. If you win two, then I will acknowledge the old monk as Alliance Chief. But if I win two, then I am sorry, the position of Alliance Chief will have to go to my master.”

Hearing this, the crowd thought, Could it be that his master is truly a figure of great stature, someone who has come to contend with Hong Qigong⁶¹ and the Golden Wheel National Preceptor for the Alliance Chief position? Whoever his master is, he is certainly a Han⁶² Chinese, which is far better than letting a Mongol National Preceptor seize the title. As for the boy, of course he could not defeat Huo Dou. But since their side was already beaten, only by creating a new complication could there be any hope of a reversal. So they clamoured in support: “Right, right! Unless you Mongols win two more bouts.” “This young brother speaks the truth.” “The Central Plains has many masters. You got lucky in two bouts, what is so special about that?”

Huo Dou considered: The two strongest opponents have already been defeated. What is there to fear from two more? But he worried they might use a relay strategy, defeat two, then send two more. He said to Yang Guo, “It is only reasonable that your honoured master should contend for the Alliance Chief position. But the heroes under heaven number in the thousands. Bout after bout, when would it ever end?”

Yang Guo lifted his chin. “My master would not bother with anyone else becoming Alliance Chief. But the sight of your master makes her sick.”

Huo Dou asked, “Who is your honoured master? Is the venerable one present?”

Yang Guo laughed. “The venerable one is right before your eyes. Hey, Gugu, he is asking after your venerable self.”

Xiaolongnü made a sound of acknowledgment and nodded at Huo Dou.

The heroes stared blankly, then roared with laughter. This girl was pretty and delicate, and looked even younger than Yang Guo. How could she possibly be his master? The boy was clearly making sport of Huo Dou. Only Hao Datong,⁶³ Zhao Zhijing,⁶⁴ Zhen Zhibing,⁶⁵ and a few others knew that what he said was the truth. Even Huang Rong, for all her surpassing intelligence, would never have believed that a frail, tender girl like Xiaolongnü could be his master.

Huo Dou was furious. “Little brat, talking nonsense! This is a gathering of all the heroes under heaven, with countless matters of importance to attend to. We have no time for your foolery. Get out of here.”

Yang Guo said, “Your master is dark and ugly, and the gibberish he speaks is unbearably grating. Look at my master, how beautiful she is, how pure and elegant. Would she not make a far better Alliance Chief than your ugly monk of a master?”

Xiaolongnü, hearing Yang Guo praise her beauty, was delighted. She smiled sweetly, like a rare flower first blooming, like fine jade catching the light, radiant beyond compare.

The heroes felt that Yang Guo’s mockery of the enemy was growing bolder and bolder, and they found it immensely satisfying. Some of the more cautious elders, however, secretly worried for him, afraid that Huo Dou might suddenly strike to kill, which would surely cost the boy his life.

Sure enough, by now Huo Dou could restrain himself no longer. “Heroes under heaven,” he called, “take note. This prince kills this brat, he brings it on himself. Blame not this prince.” He raised his fan, ready to bring it crashing down on Yang Guo’s skull.

Yang Guo imitated his tone and posture, puffing out his chest and belly. “Heroes under heaven, take note. This little brat kills this prince, he brings it on himself. Blame not this little brat!” Amid the roaring laughter, he suddenly swung the oar handle sideways at Huo Dou’s rear.

---

Huo Dou twisted aside, his fan jabbing diagonally while his left palm shot forward like the wind, striking directly at the boy’s temple. The fan thrust was a feint. The palm strike was real. He put ten-tenths of his power into that palm, determined to smash the boy’s skull open with a single blow. Yang Guo slipped away at an angle, shoving a square table forward as he went. With a crack, Huo Dou’s palm struck the table, sending splinters flying as half of it collapsed. The heroes gasped at the force of the blow. Huo Dou kicked the table aside and pressed his attack.

Seeing how vicious his palm strikes were, Yang Guo no longer dared take him lightly. He swung the oar handle and began using the Dog-Beating Staff Technique in earnest against him.

Hong Qigong had taught him every move of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique. On the summit of Mount Hua,⁶⁶ he had spent several days demonstrating them to Ouyang Feng,⁶⁷ and had worked through even the most intricate and subtle variations. He had also heard the formulae and transformations from Huang Rong as she taught Lu Youjiao.⁶⁸ Over the past half-day, he had carefully worked through the combinations in his mind, merging the two together, and had managed to wield them with considerable fluency. But the oar handle was too heavy and had been shortened by half, making it awkward to use. Moreover, his study time had been too brief for true mastery. After a dozen or so moves, Huo Dou had trapped him in a corner, fan and palm working in tandem.

Huang Rong saw that the moves Yang Guo was using were indeed all Dog-Beating Staff Technique. Though his execution was raw and the subtleties were not fully realised, his postures and movements looked the part. She knew his weapon was unsuitable, so she strode to the centre of the hall, extended her staff between the two combatants, and said, “Guoer, to beat a dog, you need a dog-beating staff. Chief Lu’s staff, borrow it for now. Return it once the vicious dog is dealt with.” The Dog-Beating Staff was the symbol of the Beggar Clan chief’s authority, which was why she made a point of specifying that it was a loan. Yang Guo was overjoyed. He took the bamboo staff. Huang Rong whispered in his ear, “Force him to hand over the antidote.” With that, she leapt back.

Yang Guo had not been paying attention when Zhu Ziliu was struck by the hidden weapons and did not know what “antidote” meant. He was momentarily puzzled, but Huo Dou was already chopping at him with his palm.

Yang Guo raised the Dog-Beating Staff and jabbed it toward Huo Dou’s lower abdomen. The bamboo staff was both strong and pliant, just the right length and weight, perfectly suited to his hand. Using the Dog-Beating Staff to execute the Dog-Beating Staff Technique naturally multiplied its power. Huo Dou’s palm was chopping toward his neck when he saw the bamboo staff thrust out swiftly, aimed precisely at the “Barrier Origin”⁶⁹ acupoint three inches below his navel, a key point on the Conception Vessel meridian.⁷⁰ This little brat’s pressure-point accuracy is remarkable, he thought with a start. After tangling with Yang Guo several times, he had always dismissed him as merely an agile youth who had received some instruction from a good teacher. Now, seeing this pressure-point strike, he finally regarded him as a worthy opponent and no longer dared treat him lightly. He withdrew his palm, spun around, and held his fan across his chest in a defensive posture. The expert spectators were even more astonished to see him shift to defence, a clear sign that he now regarded Yang Guo with considerable wariness.

: 寸 – cùn. A traditional Chinese unit of length, about 3.3 centimetres. Ten cun make one chi.

Yang Guo said, “Wait. This little brat does not fight for nothing. There must be a wager.”

Huo Dou said, “Fine. If you lose, you kowtow to me three times and call me ‘Grandfather’ three times.”

Yang Guo once again used the verbal trap that the children of Jiangnan delighted in. Pretending not to have heard clearly, he asked, “Call you what?” This trick, when sprung suddenly, was almost impossible to avoid if you did not know it. Huo Dou had grown up on the frontier, surrounded by simple, honest folk. How could he understand the sly tricks of Jiangnan children? He answered without thinking, “Call me Grandfather!” Yang Guo responded, “Mm, good grandson. Call me again.” Amid the crowd’s roaring laughter, Huo Dou realised he had been duped yet again. He ground his teeth and attacked with fan and palm in a storm of furious blows.

Yang Guo fought back with all his might. “If you lose,” he said, “you must give me the antidote.”

Huo Dou raged, “Me, lose to you? Stop dreaming, little beast!”

Yang Guo raised the bamboo staff. “Who is the little beast cursing?”

Huo Dou began, “The little beast is cursing…” The words were already at his lips when he abruptly realised. He pulled back from the brink just in time, swallowing the final “you” with a heroic effort. Yang Guo laughed. “Little foreign prince, I have taught you a lesson. Remember it.” But though his words were light, the fight was growing harder by the moment.

Huo Dou was the National Preceptor’s prized disciple and had already grasped the essence of the Mongolian Vajra Sect’s martial arts. He had fought nearly a thousand moves against Zhu Ziliu, Great Master Yideng’s strongest disciple. The depth of his cultivation was not something Yang Guo could match in a day. Yang Guo had gained the upper hand at first by provoking his anger, and Huo Dou had not fought at full strength. Now that the contest was serious, after twenty-some moves Yang Guo was clearly outmatched. But the heroes, seeing a boy so young hold his own for so long, were full of praise. “This child is remarkable,” they said, asking each other whose disciple he was.

Seeing his opponent weakening, Huo Dou intensified his palm force. The Dog-Beating Staff Technique that Yang Guo used was profound and unfathomable, originally beyond the reach of Huo Dou’s fan and palm methods. But Hong Qigong had taught him only the moves. The secret formulae of the staff technique he had only just heard that morning from Huang Rong’s mouth. Relying on his intelligence, he had barely managed to piece the two together for use, but to achieve full integration and unleash its true power in half a day was, of course, impossible. As the fight continued, Yang Guo dodged and ducked, barely holding on.

Guo Fu and the Wu brothers had been watching the contest with rapt attention since it began, whispering among themselves. When Yang Guo stepped out to fight, it had come as a complete surprise. The Wu brothers called him arrogant and foolish, asking for trouble. Guo Fu, perversely, argued the opposite, praising his boldness and quick wits. The Wu brothers felt a sour ache in their hearts that was most unpleasant. Earlier, when Xiaolongnü had suddenly appeared and shown such intimacy with Yang Guo, the brothers had exchanged a look and felt enormously relieved. But when they heard Yang Guo call her his master, whether it was true or not, they could not tell, their hearts grew heavy again. Now, seeing Yang Guo driven to desperation by Huo Dou, the two brothers knew they should not gloat over another’s misfortune or wish for the enemy’s victory. Yet in the deepest recesses of their hearts, they hoped his fall would be as spectacular as possible. So it was that they swung between joy and anxiety, their moods shifting several times in the span of a few breaths. Guo Fu, for her part, felt neither fondness nor dislike for Yang Guo. She merely regarded him as a down-and-out nobody of no consequence. When she heard her father say he intended to betroth her to him, she had been momentarily indignant, but she never believed such a thing could actually happen, and she did not dwell on it. Later, seeing that his martial arts were surprisingly strong, she was merely astonished. But now, watching him in danger, she could not help feeling worried.

Suddenly Yang Guo swung his iron sword and shouted, “Careful! I am about to use hidden weapons!” Huo Dou had used the poison darts hidden in his fan to wound Zhu Ziliu. Hearing Yang Guo’s warning, he assumed the iron sword concealed hidden weapons just like his own folding fan, no wonder the boy used a rusty sword instead of a sharp one. If he himself had used such a trick to snatch victory, surely his opponent could do the same. Seeing Yang Guo aim the iron sword at his face, Huo Dou hastily leapt to the left. But he saw Yang Guo’s left hand form a sword talisman,⁷¹ guiding the iron sword as it thrust in from the right. Where were the hidden weapons?

Huo Dou knew he had been tricked. “Little beast!” he cursed. Yang Guo asked, “Who is the little beast cursing?” Huo Dou did not answer this time, but intensified his palm force. Yang Guo raised his left hand. “Hidden weapons coming!” Huo Dou hurriedly dodged to the right, and his opponent’s sword came thrusting precisely from the right. Huo Dou hastily pulled in his body and twisted his waist, the blade passed within an inch of his right ribs. It was a lethally close call. When the thrust missed, the heroes all cried, “What a pity!” The Mongol warriors secretly gasped, “How shameful!”

Huo Dou had narrowly escaped death, and cold sweat soaked his back. But then Yang Guo raised his left hand again. “Hidden weapons!” he shouted. Huo Dou ignored him completely this time and pressed his palm attack, and sure enough, it was another bluff. Yang Guo’s sword thrust missed, and he lunged forward. His left hand rose a fourth time. “Hidden weapons!” he yelled. Huo Dou began to curse, “Little…”, but before the second word left his mouth, a flash of golden light suddenly appeared before his eyes. The distance was close, and after being deceived several times, he was completely off guard. He threw himself into a desperate leap, but felt a faint, piercing pain in his leg, several extremely fine hidden weapons had struck him. The projectiles are tiny, he thought. Even if they hit, they cannot do much harm. In his towering rage, he attacked with fan thrusts and palm chops, determined to kill this cunning boy on the spot.

Yang Guo knew he had succeeded. He had no intention of fighting with full force now. He merely danced his sword to guard his vital points and said with a grin, “I warned you again and again: ‘Hidden weapons coming, hidden weapons coming.’ You never believed me. I did not lie to you, did I?”

Huo Dou was about to deliver a palm strike when he suddenly felt a numbing itch in his leg, as though bitten by a large mosquito. He held his breath and forced himself to endure it, preparing to attack, but the itching grew worse. A terrible thought struck him: Not good, the little beast’s hidden weapons are poisoned! The thought had barely turned in his mind when the itching in his leg became absolutely unbearable. He could no longer care about the enemy before him. He threw down his fan and reached to scratch, and the moment he scratched, it was as though even his heart began to itch. He let out a cry and collapsed. The poison of the Ancient Tomb Sect’s Jade Bee Golden Needles⁷² was rare beyond compare in the world. A single needle was already hard enough to endure, how much worse to be struck by several in the heat of battle, when the blood was racing?

---

The Mongol monk Da’erba strode out with great steps, scooped up his junior brother, and delivered him to their master. Turning back to Yang Guo, he said, “Boy, I will fight you!” He swept his vajra pestle horizontally, striking with lightning speed toward Yang Guo’s waist.

The pestle came with a beam of golden light. The vajra pestle was immensely heavy, and the fact that golden light flashed the instant he struck showed the terrifying strength of his arms and the swiftness of his technique. Yang Guo kept his feet planted and drew his waist back by a full foot, the pestle swept past just before his belly. But Da’erba, without waiting for the pestle’s momentum to exhaust itself, twisted his wrist, and the horizontal sweep abruptly transformed into a straight thrust aimed at Yang Guo’s waist. To wield so heavy a weapon with such ferocious force, and yet redirect it in mid-sweep, everyone was caught off guard. Yang Guo was equally shocked. He hurriedly pressed his iron sword down on the pestle and used the force to launch himself into the air.

Da’erba pursued before he could land, swinging the pestle. Yang Guo pressed his sword against the pestle again and soared upward a second time. Da’erba roared, “Where do you think you are going?” He struck again. Yang Guo was in midair, unable to twist or turn. The situation was desperate beyond measure. Taking a gamble, he suddenly reached out and grabbed the head of the pestle, then chopped down with his sword. Had he possessed the Diancang Fisherman’s strength, the enemy would have been forced to release the pestle. But Da’erba’s natural strength exceeded his by several times. Da’erba yanked back fiercely and retreated. Yang Guo took the opportunity to release the pestle head and landed lightly on his feet. Three times he had been forced into the air, his life hanging by a thread. Though he had not managed to disarm his opponent, the crisis was resolved, and the spectators all let out their breath. The Ancient Tomb Sect excelled in lightness skill, and its swordplay sought only extraordinary speed, not forceful injury, these moves were all techniques of his own school, practised to perfection.

Da’erba, seeing his lightness skill and rapid transformations, said, “The boy’s kung fu is very good. Who taught you?” He spoke in Mongolian, which Yang Guo naturally could not understand a word of. Assuming the monk was cursing him, Yang Guo mimicked his pronunciation and repeated the exact same sentence, with perfect accuracy and word order. To Da’erba’s ears, it was precisely: “The boy’s kung fu is very good. Who taught you?” So he answered, “My master is the Golden Wheel National Preceptor. I am not a boy, you should call me Great Monk.”

Yang Guo was determined to yield not a single inch in the verbal battle. However viciously you curse me, he thought, as long as I return it in full, I will not lose in words. If you call me a pig, dog, or beast in your foreign tongue, I will do exactly the same. So he listened intently, and as soon as Da’erba finished speaking, he repeated in the same fashion, in Mongolian: “My master is the Golden Wheel National Preceptor. I am not a boy, you should call me Great Monk.”

Da’erba was astonished. He tilted his head and studied Yang Guo from left and right. You are clearly a boy, he thought. How can you be a Great Monk? And how can your master be the Golden Wheel National Preceptor? He said, “I am the National Preceptor’s first-generation disciple. Which generation are you?” Yang Guo likewise said, “I am the National Preceptor’s first-generation disciple. Which generation are you?”

In the Esoteric Buddhism⁴¹ of Tibet and Mongolia, the doctrine of reincarnation⁷³ had long been established. The formal system of Dalai and Panchen reincarnations had not yet begun at that time, but the belief that after death a person could be reborn without losing their spiritual nature was deeply held by every adherent of Esoteric Buddhism. Though the Golden Wheel National Preceptor was a Mongol by birth, after taking monastic vows he had studied the Tibetan Esoteric Buddhist tradition, known in Mongolia as the Vajra Sect. In his youth he had accepted a senior disciple, but that disciple had died before reaching the age of twenty. Neither Da’erba nor Huo Dou had ever met him, they only knew that such a person had existed. This was why Da’erba was ranked second under the National Preceptor and Huo Dou third. Now, hearing these words, Da’erba believed Yang Guo was his senior brother reborn. And if the boy was not a divine child who had brought his skills from a past life, how else could a mere youth possess such martial arts? Furthermore, the boy was a Central Plains youth, how could his Tibetan be so fluent? Da’erba stared at him intently. The more he looked, the more convinced he became. Suddenly he threw down his vajra pestle, bowed low to Yang Guo, and intoned repeatedly: “Senior Brother, your junior brother Da’erba pays his respects.”

This naturally astonished Yang Guo greatly. This monk cannot out-curse me, he thought, so he bows his head in surrender. Seeing the man’s extremely deferential manner, he understood that the words being spoken were certainly not curses but terms of respect, and that there was no need to mimic him this time. So he nodded and smiled, pressed his palms together in a bow, signalling acceptance and returning the courtesy.

The heroes of the Central Plains were even more bewildered. Aside from Guo Jing and Huang Rong, none of them understood Mongolian. They had no idea what Yang Guo had said during that long exchange of jabbering and gibbering, what words could possibly have subdued this foreign monk of divine strength?

Only the Golden Wheel National Preceptor understood what had happened. He knew his second disciple was simple and honest, and had been fooled by Yang Guo. “Da’erba,” he shouted, “he is not your senior brother reborn! Get up and fight him!”

Da’erba leapt up in alarm. “Master, I am certain he is Senior Brother. Otherwise, how could a boy so young possess such skill?”

The National Preceptor said, “Your senior brother’s martial arts far surpass yours. This boy is not your equal.”

Da’erba shook his head, refusing to believe it. The National Preceptor knew his disciple’s nature was the most stubborn, and for the moment he could not explain. “If you do not believe me,” he said, “test him again in combat.”

Da’erba had always treated his master’s words as divine law. If his master said Yang Guo was not his senior brother reborn, then it was most likely true. But the boy was so young, yet possessed such advanced martial arts, and had even claimed to be his senior brother, it was hard not to believe. Better to follow his master’s orders and test him with a few moves, to see his real skill and determine who would win. Then truth and falsehood would be clear. He raised his hand to Yang Guo and said, “Very well, I will test your martial arts. Truth or falsehood will be decided by victory or defeat.”

Yang Guo saw him rise and speak several sentences in a jabbering tongue, his expression extremely respectful. He guessed the monk was saying something polite, so he repeated it back with perfect accuracy. To Da’erba’s ears, it was exactly: “Very well, I will test your martial arts. Truth or falsehood will be decided by victory or defeat.” Hearing these words, Da’erba felt another surge of fear. Master says my senior brother’s martial arts far surpass mine, he thought. I certainly cannot defeat him.

Yang Guo saw the fear on his face and thought, Let me frighten him a little more. Maybe he will simply withdraw. He said, “You have five disciples, the Five Uglies of the Sichuan Border.⁷⁴ A few days ago on the summit of Mount Hua, they showed me disrespect, so I crippled their martial arts. Are those five wretches still alive?” He spoke in Chinese, which Da’erba naturally could not understand. An accompanying warrior translated. When Da’erba heard, his shock deepened.

The Five Uglies of the Sichuan Border, caught between the twin assaults of Hong Qigong and Ouyang Feng, had all their meridians⁷⁵ destroyed. They had been unable even to speak afterward. Da’erba had examined their injuries and concluded that not even his master, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor, could possibly have possessed the power to shatter all eight extraordinary meridians while still preserving their lives. Whoever had done this must have had abilities that reached heaven and pierced earth, the work of gods or demons. How could he have imagined that the combined neili of Hong Qigong and Ouyang Feng was no less than the Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s, and that the two together surpassed his master by a full margin? Now, hearing Yang Guo say this, his fear redoubled. He glanced at the National Preceptor and saw anger on his face, yet he dared not refuse to fight. He could only say, “Please show mercy.” Yang Guo repeated his Mongolian words: “Please show mercy.”

Guo Fu, seeing the two of them jabbering endlessly in Mongolian, went to Huang Rong’s side and asked, “Mother, what are they saying?” Guo Jing understood the Mongolian words spoken by Da’erba and Yang Guo, but he did not understand why Yang Guo was mimicking him. Huang Rong had learned some Mongolian during Guo Jing’s western campaign, but her knowledge was rough and incomplete. She understood fragments of the exchange between Da’erba and Yang Guo but could not grasp the meaning. She did, however, hear that Yang Guo was echoing Da’erba’s words. But why Da’erba would prostrate himself before him, that she could not fathom. When her daughter asked, she merely said, “Hm.” She added, “Brother Yang is joking with him.”

At that very moment, Da’erba suddenly swung his pestle at Yang Guo. He thought he had made his intentions perfectly clear and that his opponent would be prepared. But Yang Guo, seeing his respectful manner, had never imagined he would suddenly attack. The pestle nearly struck him, and he barely leapt back in time to evade.

He retreated, then immediately lunged forward, thrusting three times in rapid succession. Da’erba, his heart filled with fear, worried that Yang Guo’s martial attainment was truly astonishing, a reincarnated soul must possess immense divine powers. For the moment, he merely guarded his vital points with the vajra pestle, not daring the slightest carelessness. After several moves, Yang Guo saw that he was only defending and not attacking. Though he did not understand why, he was happy to seize the offensive, drifting here and there, striking east and jabbing west. This set of Jade Maiden Swordplay⁷⁶ he performed with dashing spirit, his every glance and gesture full of life, his attacks swift and startling, the likes of which were rarely seen.

They traded over a hundred moves. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor watched with growing impatience. “Da’erba!” he barked. “Counterattack at once! He is not your senior brother!” Da’erba’s martial arts naturally far surpassed Yang Guo’s, but the awe in his heart had reduced his effectiveness by half, while Yang Guo seized the chance to unleash his full power. One grew ever more adept and confident. The other grew ever more timid and yielding. Though Yang Guo held the upper hand, he could not actually injure Da’erba, which only made Da’erba more certain that his senior brother was holding back out of mercy. The National Preceptor was furious. “Counterattack this instant!” he thundered. His voice was so ferociously powerful that it made every eardrum hum. Da’erba dared not disobey his master’s command. He levelled his vajra pestle and attacked with wild, furious blows.

This ferocious assault forced Yang Guo into constant evasion, and the gaps in his technique gradually began to show. Da’erba spotted a slight looseness in his swordplay and swung the golden pestle upward in a backhand strike. Yang Guo pulled back his hand but was too slow. Sword met pestle. Normally, when two opponents fight, their weapons colliding is routine. But the vajra pestle was far too heavy. Yang Guo’s iron sword had been dancing and spinning throughout the fight, never daring to touch the pestle. This time, the impact sent a violent shock through him, splitting the web of his thumb with searing pain. With a sharp crack, the iron sword snapped in two. Da’erba called out, “I have won!” He lowered his pestle and retreated, planting the weapon upright in the ground. He pressed his palms together and bowed. Though victorious, he would not neglect courtesy toward his senior brother.

Yang Guo also called out in Mongolian, “I have won!” He hurled the broken half of his iron sword at Da’erba’s face. Da’erba twisted aside, confused. How could Senior Brother have won? Was that move a feint? He saw Yang Guo charging in barehanded and dared not be careless. He hurriedly raised his pestle to guard himself. In the Ancient Tomb, Yang Guo had trained under Xiaolongnü in palm techniques, practising until his two palms could block the flight of eighty-one sparrows, not letting a single bird escape. This “Heavenly Net, Earthly Snare Technique”⁷⁷ was Lin Chaoying’s⁷⁸ unique secret, its moves and forms never having descended a single step from Mount Zhongnan.⁷⁹ Now that he used it, it proved indeed incomparably dense and seamless. Though barehanded, its power was no less than when he held a sword. Da’erba made the vajra pestle whistle and roar through the air, but Yang Guo, with the highest lightness skill, darted and threaded through the gaps in the pestle’s path. Though the peril was extreme at times, the spaces between life and death impossibly narrow, the pestle never once touched his body. Instead, he clawed, tore, split, and hacked, seized and hooked and struck, blending small seizing-hand techniques⁸⁰ with the Heavenly Net, Earthly Snare palm method, seizing the offensive at every turn, as though eighty-one sparrows were attacking from all eight directions at once.

They fought on. Da’erba’s divine strength only increased, but Yang Guo grew ever lighter and more agile. The years of training on the Ancient Tomb’s cold jade bed,⁸¹ dashing and spinning at full speed within that tiny chamber, the fruits of that labour were now fully displayed. Occasionally he used “Soaring Through the Azure Sky,”⁸² leaping high and swooping low, his lightness skill even more extraordinary.

Xiaolongnü sat on the stone plinth by the pillar, a faint smile on her face as she watched the battle. Seeing that Yang Guo could not overcome his opponent after a long struggle, she drew a pair of white gloves from her bosom and called, “Guoer, catch!” With a flick of her right hand, she tossed the gloves over.

These gloves were woven from extremely fine, extremely tough white gold thread.⁸³ Though soft and thin, no treasured blade or sharp edge could cut them. Hao Datong, seeing the gloves flying through the air, felt his expression change slightly. Years ago during that battle at the Chongyang Palace,⁸⁴ Xiaolongnü had worn these very gloves and twisted his longsword until it broke, driving him to the brink of suicide. The sight now stirred those old memories.

Yang Guo caught the gloves, stepped back, and swiftly pulled them on. Swaying his waist, he began to perform the most wondrous and elaborate of the Ancient Tomb Sect’s martial arts: the Beauty Fist Technique.⁸⁵ Every move of this fist technique imitated a celebrated beauty of antiquity. When performed by a man, it was originally rather unseemly, but Yang Guo had modified the postures during his training. The move names and fist methods remained the same, but the body movements had changed from alluring and seductive to graceful and dashing. The result left the watching heroes completely bewildered. One moment he danced like a floating sylph, the next he stood solemn and still, his expressions shifting through endless strange transformations.

The postures and moods of women are, by nature, both varied and quick to change. The celebrated beauties of every age, each with a distinctive character, the arch of a brow, the curve of a smile, the divide between melancholy and joy, are harder still to know and measure. To distil the shifting, unfathomable moods and expressions of a thousand years of legendary beauties into martial arts, and to add to that the dignified grace of goddesses and the ethereal forms of immortal maidens, how could ordinary mortals possibly comprehend it? Yang Guo used the move “Hongyu Beats the Drum,”⁸⁶ his arms crossing in rapid strikes. Da’erba raised his pestle horizontally to block. Yang Guo shifted to “Hongfu Flees by Night,”⁸⁷ driving straight through the gate with startling suddenness. Da’erba raised his pestle vertically to parry. Yang Guo suddenly used “Lüzhu Falls from the Tower,”⁸⁸ hurling himself at the enemy’s lower body. Da’erba was alarmed. Why is Senior Brother’s technique so unpredictable? He leapt up sharply to evade the chopping left palm. Yang Guo clapped his palms together several times, then struck out in a continuous, unbroken rhythm, this was “Wenji Returns to Han,”⁸⁹ with its eighteen stanzas of the nomad flute.

Every move had its origin in a classical story, but Da’erba was a Mongol monk, how could he understand these Central Plains allusions? In an instant, Yang Guo had him flailing in confusion, attacking high and low, east and west. With the golden-thread gloves on his hands, Yang Guo seized every chance to use moves like “Hongxian Steals the Box,”⁹⁰ “Mulan Draws the Bow,”⁹¹ “Ban Ji Composes History,”⁹² and “Chang’e Steals the Elixir”⁹³ to try to wrest away the golden pestle, driving Da’erba to roar in frustration, thoroughly flustered. The heroes were overjoyed and cheered in unison to boost his spirit.

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor saw that his disciple’s martial arts were clearly superior to the boy’s, but fear had made him timid, allowing the opponent to seize the offensive repeatedly and putting him in an awkward position. “Use the Unsurpassed Great Force Pestle Technique!”⁹⁴ he barked.

Da’erba answered, “Yes!” He gripped the pestle with both hands and began to swing. Even single-handed, his pestle-work had been divinely powerful. Now, using both hands and putting the strength of his waist into it, the roar of the vajra pestle’s passage through the air redoubled. This Unsurpassed Great Force Pestle Technique had little variation, eight horizontal sweeps, eight straight thrusts, sixteen moves in all. But those sixteen moves, repeated over and over, sweeping horizontally and thrusting straight, forced Yang Guo to retreat far away. He dared not even face the weapon head-on, let alone let the wind of its passage touch him.

The Diancang Fisherman, ever since his iron oar snapped, had nursed a deep grievance. Now, seeing the fearsome majesty of this Unsurpassed Great Force Pestle Technique, he thought to himself that among his own oar techniques there was truly no move so supremely hard and ferocious. He could not help feeling a secret admiration.

They fought on. Seven or eight of the red candles in the hall had already been extinguished by the wind of the pestle. Yang Guo could only rely on his lightness skill, leaping east and springing west, dodging with all his might, seeking only to avoid being struck by the pestle or grazed by its wind. How could he possibly counterattack? The heroes of the Central Plains were all stricken with fear and fell silent, but the Mongol warriors roared their approval like a thunderclap.

Pressed relentlessly by the golden pestle, Yang Guo could do nothing but retreat. Before long, he had been driven into a corner of the hall. He wanted to change tactics, but could not free up the slightest movement. This Unsurpassed Great Force Pestle Technique carried with it three parts of mad abandon, and Da’erba, caught up in its frenzy, had forgotten that the person before him was his senior brother reborn. Seeing him trapped in the corner with nowhere left to retreat, he roared, “You die!” He swept the pestle horizontally. A thunderous crash followed, and smoke and dust filled the air as bricks and earth flew everywhere, the pestle had smashed a great hole through the hall’s wall.

In that hair’s-breadth moment, Yang Guo used the Heavenly Net, Earthly Snare Technique to vault over Da’erba’s head. Even in such desperate straits, he did not forget to answer in Mongolian: “You die!”

Everyone had assumed Da’erba’s move would succeed. Guo Jing, not waiting for the pestle to complete its swing, had already rushed forward to strike at Da’erba’s back. Suddenly he saw a flash of crimson robe, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor was launching a palm strike at him. Guo Jing saw that the opponent’s palm was coming with extraordinary speed and hastily used “The Dragon Appears in the Field”⁹⁵ to deflect it. Their two palms met without the slightest sound, and both men swayed. Guo Jing retreated three steps, but the Golden Wheel National Preceptor stood firmly in place. The National Preceptor’s raw strength far exceeded Guo Jing’s, and his cultivation was deeper too, though his palm techniques and martial skills were somewhat inferior. Guo Jing, by yielding ground, had dissipated the enemy’s fierce force to avoid injury. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor, however, was intensely proud. He had forced himself to take the blow solidly, enduring a dull pain in his chest, and stood motionless. Even masters of Guo Jing’s and the National Preceptor’s calibre had believed Yang Guo was surely in mortal danger, hence one rushed to save him, and the other moved to block the rescue. Who could have imagined that Yang Guo possessed such an extraordinary technique, slipping away through the gap as the golden pestle grazed past his body? Seeing him escape danger, both men were astonished, one delighted, the other disappointed, and each withdrew.

Da’erba’s single strike had missed. Without even turning, he swung the golden pestle backward with ferocious force. Yang Guo, seeing the enemy’s move coming with terrifying speed, instinctively darted along the ground. Like a swallow threading through a curtain,⁹⁶ he skimmed just above the floor, passing mere inches beneath the golden pestle. This was another technique from the Heavenly Net, Earthly Snare, but in his desperation, he had unconsciously blended in some of the Nine Yin Manual’s⁹⁷ arts, techniques he had learned from the carvings left by Wang Chongyang⁹⁸ on the stone chamber ceiling in the Ancient Tomb.

Huang Rong was astonished. “Jing Gege, how does Guoer know the Nine Yin Manual? Did you teach him?” She assumed Guo Jing, out of consideration for his old bond with Yang Guo’s father, had taught him the manual on the journey to Mount Zhongnan. Guo Jing said, “No. If I had taught him, would I hide it from you?” Huang Rong made a sound of acknowledgment. She had always known that her husband spoke one word and meant one word, even to strangers, and to her he would certainly never lie. But she watched as Yang Guo twisted and dodged, each time in mortal danger relying on the manual’s techniques to protect himself. Yet he had clearly not fully mastered it and could not use the manual’s arts to counterattack and win. Though he kept himself alive, this contest, it seemed, was destined to end in defeat. Huang Rong sighed inwardly. Guoer is truly a prodigy. If he could study with me for a year or half, and fully master the Dog-Beating Staff Technique and the arts of the manual, how could this Mongol monk possibly be his match?

In her vexation, her gaze wandered, and she suddenly noticed the Beggar Clan’s traitor Elder Peng⁹⁹ among the Mongol warriors, his face full of glee. An idea sparked in her mind. “Guoer!” she called. “The Soul-Shifting Technique!¹⁰⁰ The Soul-Shifting Technique!” The Nine Yin Manual contained an art called the “Soul-Shifting Technique,” which used the power of the mind to overcome enemies. Years ago at the Beggar Clan assembly on Mount Jun¹⁰¹ by Lake Dongting,¹⁰² Huang Rong had used this very technique to overcome Elder Peng’s hypnotic “Heart-Seizing Art,”¹⁰³ and the sight of him now brought it back to her.

The Ancient Tomb Sect’s Jade Maiden Heart Sutra¹⁰⁴ required two practitioners working in unison and demanded that their hearts and minds be connected. When Wang Chongyang carved the essentials of the Nine Yin Manual in the Ancient Tomb’s stone chamber, he had included the outline of the Soul-Shifting Technique precisely to disrupt the heart-connection that the Jade Maiden Heart Sutra required. Once heart-connection was obstructed, the Heart Sutra’s many wondrous applications could not be used. Yang Guo remembered the core principles of the Soul-Shifting Technique. He had always trusted Huang Rong’s abilities and thought, Since Auntie Guo says this, there must be a reason. I am certain to lose anyway. I might as well try. He continued to dodge and parry with his fists and feet, but in his mind he banished all thought and desire, following the meditation methods recorded in the manual. From “Stopping the Constructed Mind”¹⁰⁵ he progressed to “Realising True Cessation,”¹⁰⁶ calming his spirit into oneness without a single stray thought. Now he fought purely by instinct, dodging at every sound, evading at every shift of wind, his eyes fixed blankly on his enemy.

After a few more moves, Da’erba sensed something strange in Yang Guo’s behaviour. He glanced at him and brought the golden pestle smashing down. Yang Guo used a move from the Beauty Fist called “Willowy Waist, So Slender,”¹⁰⁷ swaying his waist to evade. Since he was now employing the Soul-Shifting Technique, his mind and body were one, whatever move his fists and feet performed, that expression appeared on his face. Da’erba saw a sudden scholarly air appear on his face, how could he know that Yang Guo was imitating the dance of Xiaoman,¹⁰⁸ beloved concubine of the Tang poet Bai Letian?¹⁰⁹ He stared blankly as the golden pestle came straight down at Yang Guo’s head. Yang Guo tilted his head aside, spread his five fingers, and combed them through his own hair. His hand followed through with a soft, flowing wave, a faint smile on his lips, this was the move “Lihua Dresses Her Hair.”¹¹⁰ Zhang Lihua¹¹¹ was the favourite consort of the Last Ruler of Southern Tang,¹¹² her hair seven feet long and so lustrous it could reflect a person’s image. The Last Ruler neglected affairs of state for her and lost his kingdom, such was her seductive power. When Yang Guo smiled like this, Da’erba was affected and smiled in return. Yang Guo had delicate, handsome features. With a smile added, his charm increased. Da’erba, with his high, jutting cheekbones and sunken cheeks, mimicking Yang Guo’s smile, made every onlooker’s hair stand on end.

Seeing Da’erba freeze, Yang Guo thrust out his finger, this was the move “Pingji the Needle Goddess.”¹¹³ Da’erba twisted aside, his face unconsciously mirroring the expression of a woman carefully sewing. Huang Rong, seeing that Yang Guo had grasped her meaning and could actually use the Soul-Shifting Technique to affect his enemy, was overjoyed. She said quietly to Guo Jing, “Guoer’s destiny is extraordinary. When you were his age, your martial arts were not yet at this level.” Guo Jing’s face lit up with pleasure. He nodded, his eyes fixed on the two figures in the centre of the hall without blinking.

The Soul-Shifting Technique relied purely on the resonance of spiritual force. If the opponent’s mind was calm and focused, the technique often had no effect. If the opponent’s neili was greater, the force could rebound, and the caster would fall under its control instead. In a duel, if the caster’s martial arts were stronger, fists, feet, and weapons would already suffice for victory, making the technique unnecessary. If the caster’s cultivation was inferior, he dared not use it rashly. Thus, though the technique was profound and subtle, it was of little practical use in combat. But Da’erba, having heard Yang Guo speak Mongolian, was already eight or nine parts convinced that he was his senior brother reborn. Because of the awe in his heart, he was extremely susceptible. That was why Yang Guo had succeeded on his first attempt. Had the technique been used against Huo Dou, since Yang Guo had never practised it beforehand and his neili was inferior to his opponent’s, disaster would surely have followed.

Now Yang Guo performed the Beauty Fist Technique, now steps like lotus blooms, now form like a swaying willow. Da’erba imitated every move. The spectators watched, half horrified, half convulsed with laughter.

Guo Fu had long since doubled over laughing. “Mother,” she said, “Brother Yang’s technique is marvellous. Why do you not teach me?”

Huang Rong said, “If you learned the Soul-Shifting Technique, you would turn heaven and earth upside down, and in the end you would only harm yourself.” She took her daughter’s hand and said gravely, “Do not think this is just for fun. Brother Yang is locked in a life-and-death struggle with that monk. This is far more dangerous than fighting with blades!” Guo Fu stuck out her tongue and fixed her eyes on Yang Guo. In her heart, it still seemed like play. Seeing that when Yang Guo smiled, Da’erba smiled, and when Yang Guo frowned, Da’erba frowned, she began to imitate them too.

But the Soul-Shifting Technique was fearsome in the extreme. She had only mimicked a couple of gestures before her mind grew hazy, and she began walking step by step toward the centre of the hall. Huang Rong was badly startled and hurriedly pulled her back. By now, Guo Fu’s mind was already under the technique’s sway, and she struggled to throw off her mother’s grip. Huang Rong reversed her hold, seized her daughter’s wrist, and dragged her back, turning her face away so she could not see Yang Guo. Guo Fu struggled a few more times, but with her pulse point held, she could not move. Her head swam, and she fell asleep in her mother’s arms.

By now, Da’erba was entirely under Yang Guo’s control. When Yang Guo used “Xizi Clutches Her Heart,”¹¹⁴ Da’erba immediately followed with “Dongshi Copies the Frown.”¹¹⁵ When Yang Guo used “The Goddess of the Luo River’s Subtle Steps,”¹¹⁶ Da’erba followed in lockstep. “light as a startled crow, sinuous as a wandering serpent.” The Golden Wheel National Preceptor had long since seen that something was wrong. He called out repeatedly, but Da’erba acted as though he could not hear. Yang Guo saw that the moment had come. He suddenly used “Cao Ling Cuts Off Her Nose,”¹¹⁷ slashing his palm diagonally across his own face. The left palm swept past, then the right, in an unbroken rhythm. In ancient times, the wife of Cao Wenshu,¹¹⁸ named Ling, had cut off her own nose after her husband’s death to show she would never remarry. In the fist technique, this move was originally a palm sweeping before one’s face to deflect an enemy’s strike to the head. But Yang Guo brought his palm several inches closer, so it appeared to slash his own cheek. Though it looked forceful, in truth his palm merely brushed his face lightly. Da’erba had no way of knowing this. He struck himself across the face with both palms as hard as he could. With his divine strength, each palm carried over a hundred jin of force. After more than ten blows, he could no longer endure it and knocked himself senseless to the ground.

Yang Guo quietly retreated several steps and sat down beside Xiaolongnü. He rested his right hand on his chin, slowly extended his left hand, let out a long sigh, and assumed an expression of profound loneliness. This was the closing form of the Beauty Fist Technique, called “Secluded Dwelling in the Ancient Tomb”¹¹⁹, but it was Yang Guo’s own creation. Lin Chaoying had not known it, and Xiaolongnü did not know it either. After Yang Guo had learned the entire Beauty Fist Technique, he had thought, Our founding matriarch’s bearing and virtue were no less than any ancient beauty’s, and her martial arts, needless to say, surpassed them all. If she is not present in this fist technique, it cannot be said to encompass all that is beautiful. So he had devised this move himself. Though it was composed in tribute to Lin Chaoying, its gestures and expressions were modelled on his master, Xiaolongnü. When Xiaolongnü had seen it back then, she had merely smiled faintly and, naturally, never joined him in such antics.

The heroes roared as one: “We have won the second bout too!” “The Alliance Chief belongs to a master of the Great Song!” “Mongol barbarians, get out! Do not come to the Central Plains and make fools of yourselves!” Amid the chaos, two Mongol warriors rushed forward and carried Da’erba away.

---

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor had now seen both his disciples defeated at the hands of this boy, and neither through inferior martial arts. Their losses had been utterly absurd. Fury seethed within him, but his face showed nothing. He sat in his chair and demanded: “Boy, who is your master?” His martial arts were matchless, and he was also widely learned and accomplished, he could even speak Chinese.

Yang Guo stretched out his right hand toward Xiaolongnü and laughed. “My master is this very person. Come quickly and pay your respects to the Alliance Chief of the jianghu!”

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor saw that Xiaolongnü was delicate, charming, and looked even younger than Yang Guo. He absolutely refused to believe she was his master. These Han Chinese are full of tricks, he thought. They will not deceive me. He rose abruptly with a great clattering sound and drew a golden wheel¹²⁰ from his robes. This golden wheel was a foot and a half in diameter, forged from gold mixed with platinum and other metals. Engraved upon it were Sanskrit¹²¹ Esoteric Buddhist mantras,¹²² and nine small balls were concealed within. At the slightest shake, it rang out in a long, unbroken resonance. The National Preceptor pointed the wheel at Xiaolongnü and said, “Hmph. A little girl like you, fit to be Alliance Chief? If you can withstand ten moves of my golden wheel, I will acknowledge you as Alliance Chief.”

Yang Guo laughed. “I have already won two bouts. Best of three, you made that rule yourself at the start. Now you are trying to welsh?”

The National Preceptor said, “I want to test her skill, to see whether she is worthy.”

Xiaolongnü had no idea that the Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s martial arts were heaven-shaking, nor did she know what the “Alliance Chief of the jianghu” was, much less care whether she should assume the position or not. Hearing him say he wanted to test whether she could withstand ten moves of his golden wheel, she immediately rose and said, “Then I will give it a try.”

The National Preceptor asked, “And if you cannot withstand ten of my moves, what then?”

Xiaolongnü said, “If I cannot, then I cannot. What of it?” Though her love for Yang Guo was now deep, she remained indifferent to everything else. The heroes of the Central Plains and the Mongol warriors alike did not realise this was simply her nature. Seeing her treat the National Preceptor with such complete disregard, they assumed her martial arts must indeed be unfathomable. Some, having seen Yang Guo use the Soul-Shifting Technique to defeat Da’erba, even thought she could work sorcery and was a young witch. Speculation buzzed through the crowd.

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor, for his part, genuinely feared she might use sorcery. He began to mutter incantations under his breath, jabbering and gibbering, reciting the Esoteric Buddhist “Demon-Subduing, Spirit-Quelling Mantra.”¹²³ Yang Guo, listening nearby, understood perfectly. He assumed the monk was cursing his master in Mongolian again and hurriedly memorised every word with absolute precision. When the National Preceptor finished his incantation, he shook his golden wheel with a great clatter and barked, “Boy, stand back! I am going to attack!” These two sentences, however, he spoke in Chinese.

Yang Guo waved his hands. He dared not speak, afraid that if his attention wavered even slightly, he would forget the long passage of Mongolian he had forcibly memorised. Following the sounds precisely, he recited the incantation word for word. Huang Rong knew a little Mongolian, but what she knew was mostly military terminology and her learning was limited. These Mongol Esoteric Buddhist mantras, mixed with much Sanskrit, were completely beyond her. She merely smiled as she listened.

At that very moment, Da’erba groggily regained consciousness. He saw his master holding the golden wheel, about to fight, and then heard Yang Guo reciting the Esoteric Buddhist “Demon-Subduing, Spirit-Quelling Mantra.” This was a secret dharma of their own sect, absolutely never transmitted to outsiders. If Yang Guo was not his senior brother reborn, how could he chant this mantra? In desperation, Da’erba sprang forward and knelt before his master, crying: “Master, he truly is Senior Brother reborn! Accept him back into the sect!” The Golden Wheel National Preceptor roared, “Nonsense! You have been duped and still do not see it.” Da’erba said, “It is true, absolutely true, there can be no mistake.” The National Preceptor, seeing his disciple’s obstinate persistence, seized him by the back of the neck and hurled him across the hall. Da’erba’s body, weighing well over a hundred jin, sailed through the air as light as nothing in the National Preceptor’s grasp.

The crowd had just witnessed Da’erba’s divine strength in his battles against the Diancang Fisherman and Yang Guo. But the National Preceptor’s casual toss showed power far beyond even that. Looking at Xiaolongnü, so delicate and fragile, never mind withstanding ten of his moves, a single forceful breath from him would probably blow her over. They could not help worrying for her. Many of the Mongol warriors had seen the National Preceptor demonstrate his martial arts, truly his skill surpassed ten thousand men, his strength exceeded nine oxen. Though Xiaolongnü was an enemy, seeing her tender youth and beauty, every man felt a surge of protective pity. Even if she did possess sorcery, surely it could not match the National Preceptor’s divine arts. Secretly, they hoped he would not strike with lethal cruelty.

Yang Guo finished chanting the mantra. “Gugu,” he whispered, “be careful of this monk.” The National Preceptor, hearing him recite every word without a single error, was impressed despite himself. “Boy,” he said approvingly, “I am in your debt.” Yang Guo said, “Monk, I am in your debt.” The National Preceptor glared. “In my debt for what?” Yang Guo said, “In your debt for having the nerve to fight my master. She is a bodhisattva¹²⁴ reborn, with power that reaches heaven and earth, skill to subdue dragons and tigers. You would do well to be cautious.” He hoped that by planting misgivings, the monk would not dare to strike with full force, making it easier for his master to defend. But the Golden Wheel National Preceptor was a hero the likes of which Mongolia might not produce in a generation, accomplished in both civil and martial arts. How could he fall for such a ruse? “The first move is coming, little girl,” he called. “Draw your weapon!”

Yang Guo removed the golden-thread gloves and put them on his master’s hands. He saw her cheeks, fair and touched with pink, her eyes brimming with affection as she gazed at him. He could barely resist planting a deep kiss on her face, but with a heroic effort, he restrained himself and withdrew, hands at his sides. Xiaolongnü drew a snow-white silk band from her bosom and shook it out in the wind. At the end of the band was fastened a golden sphere. The sphere was hollow and contained something inside, when the band moved, the sphere rang like a bell: ding-ling, ding-ling, crisp and pleasing to the ear. The crowd saw that both combatants’ weapons were exceedingly strange. Today, they thought, we are truly opening our eyes: one weapon was extremely short, the other extremely long. One extremely hard, the other extremely soft, and, by coincidence, both made ringing sounds.

The golden wheel that the National Preceptor wielded was specially designed to seize and lock an opponent’s weapon. Blade, spear, sword, halberd, lance, hammer, whip, or cudgel, any weapon that met it was bound and helpless. An ordinary fighter, swinging a weapon forward, would hear a single clang, and the weapon would be gone from his hand. Had the National Preceptor not already seen that Yang Guo’s skills were formidable, he would never have spoken of ten moves. In his entire life, few people had ever withstood even three moves of his golden wheel.

Xiaolongnü flicked her silk band and attacked first. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor asked, “What is this thing?” He reached with his left hand to grab the band. He saw the band twisting with sinuous, darting grace and assumed its transformations would be many. His grab concealed five directions, up, down, left, right, and centre. Wherever the band dodged, it could not escape his grasp. But the small golden sphere at the end of the band rang out and rebounded, darting straight at the “Central Islet”¹²⁵ acupoint on the back of his hand. The National Preceptor’s transformation was lightning-swift. He flipped his palm to grab the sphere. Xiaolongnü gave a slight flick of her wrist, and the sphere rolled over, striking upward from below at the “Joining Valley”¹²⁶ acupoint on the tiger’s mouth of his hand. The National Preceptor flipped his palm again, this time extending his index and middle fingers to pinch the sphere. Xiaolongnü saw it clearly. She gave the band a slight forward push, and the sphere extended to strike the “Crooked Marsh”¹²⁷ acupoint in the bend of his arm.

These several transformations took place in the space of a hand’s turning. The National Preceptor flipped his palm twice. Xiaolongnü shook her wrist three times, and five moves had already been exchanged. Yang Guo saw it clearly and counted loudly: “One, two, three, four, five… five moves! Five left.” The Golden Wheel National Preceptor had meant for Xiaolongnü to withstand ten of his offensive moves, but Yang Guo, being crafty, counted both sides’ exchanges together. The National Preceptor was a grandmaster of the martial arts. He could not stoop to quibbling over move counts with this cunning boy. He shifted his left arm slightly to evade the sphere and thrust the golden wheel straight forward.

Xiaolongnü heard a great clattering rush and saw a flash of golden light, the enemy’s golden wheel was already within a foot of her face. This was so sudden and unexpected that there was no question of parrying, even dodging was too late. In her desperation, she flicked her wrist and sent the silk band coiling around, the golden sphere shooting directly at the “Wind Pool”¹²⁸ acupoint at the centre of the back of the National Preceptor’s skull. This was a vital point of the human body, no matter how high one’s martial arts, a solid strike there would cost one’s life. It was a desperate gamble, forcing the enemy to pull back his wheel and save himself. Sure enough, the National Preceptor was unwilling to trade lives with her. He ducked his head to evade, and that single ducking motion slowed the thrust of his wheel just enough. Xiaolongnü seized the moment to reel in her silk band. With a ringing, clattering sound, the sphere struck the wheel, deflecting the golden wheel’s attack. All this happened in a single instant, but Xiaolongnü had passed from life to death and back again. She hastily deployed her lightness skill and darted away, her face filled with terror.

The National Preceptor had only launched this one attack, but Yang Guo loudly counted: “Six, seven, eight, nine, ten… All right! My master has already withstood your ten moves. What do you have to say now?”

In that brief exchange, the National Preceptor had already determined that though this young girl’s martial arts were high, they were ultimately far, far below his own. In a formal contest, he could defeat her within ten moves. The most irritating thing was Yang Guo stirring up chaos from the sidelines, babbling nonsense, keeping him constantly unsettled. I will ignore this boy’s ravings, he thought. I will intensify my attacks and defeat this girl first, then deal with the rest. His robe-sleeves whipped up a wind, the golden wheel spun, and he launched another ferociously lethal strike. Yang Guo shouted: “Shameless! You said ten moves, and now you attack by surprise, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen…” He paid no attention to the actual number of offensive and defensive moves exchanged, simply rattling off numbers in an unbroken stream.

After withstanding that one move, Xiaolongnü was deeply afraid and dared not face a second direct attack under any circumstances. She deployed her lightness skill and flew about the hall, her silk band drifting, the golden sphere spinning rapidly, transforming into a haze of white and a streak of yellow. The golden sphere emitted ding-ding sounds, now urgent, now slow, now soft, now resonant, almost like a melody. In her idle hours in the Ancient Tomb, she had followed the qin¹²⁹ scores left by Lin Chaoying and learned to play with considerable refinement. Later, when she practised with the silk band and golden sphere, she noticed that the sounds from the sphere had a musical quality, and with a young girl’s playfulness, she had actually woven music into her martial arts. The seasonal order of heaven and earth, the growth of plants and trees, even the pulse and breath of the human body, all contain inherent rhythm. Music is composed in accordance with the natural sounds of the universe and the body’s own cadences. Thus, melodious sounds are pleasing to the ear, and noise is grating to the mind. When martial arts are combined with music, the execution becomes softer, more measured, flowing from hand and heart.

The Ancient Tomb Sect’s lightness skill was the supreme art of the wulin,¹³⁰ beyond the reach of any other school’s lightness techniques. On open plains and broad fields, its superiority was less apparent, but here within the hall, it proved incomparably graceful, endlessly variable. She had spent her entire life training inside the tomb chambers, and within a space of ten feet or so, her advances and retreats were like those of a spirit. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s martial arts far surpassed hers, but with her constant leaping and bounding, he could do nothing to her. He heard only the ding-ding of the bell, like a melody. After listening for a while, he found himself unconsciously matching his attacks to her rhythm. Alarmed, he quickly shook his golden wheel to produce a jarring noise that clashed against the bell’s music. In an instant, two sounds intertwined through the great hall, now soft, now loud, now high, now low. The bell’s ringing was crisp and clear, soothing to the heart and spirit. The clashing clamour of the golden wheel, however, was like iron being hammered, like a wok being scraped, like a pig being slaughtered, like a dog being beaten, like fleeing for one’s life, like mourning at a funeral, grotesque and grating beyond description.

Guo Jing and Huang Rong, watching from the side, both recalled their youth on Peach Blossom Island,¹³¹ when they had witnessed Hong Qigong, Ouyang Feng, and Huang Yaoshi¹³² duelling with the power of music. Thinking of it now felt like another lifetime. The two before them, though their martial arts were wondrous, fell far short of those three masters when it came to the art of musical combat. By now, Yang Guo had long since rattled past “one thousand and five, one thousand and six, one thousand and seven…” But since Xiaolongnü refused to engage the enemy directly, the National Preceptor had still not completed his ten moves. Guo Fu, who had been asleep in her mother’s arms, was jolted awake by the hideous clangour of the golden wheel. She pressed her hands over her ears and raised her head, her face full of confusion.

By now, the National Preceptor was thoroughly impatient. For a grandmaster of his stature to be unable to defeat a young girl after all this time, even if he eventually won, the loss of face would be severe. Abruptly, he stretched out his left arm, the golden wheel smashing diagonally, his palm striking upward from the lower left while the golden wheel crashed down from the upper right. After this long, darting battle, he had grasped fifty percent of Xiaolongnü’s lightness skill patterns. These two killing moves sealed both her advance and her retreat, ensuring that if she dodged the one before her, she could not evade the one behind. In her desperation, Xiaolongnü sent her silk band flying, coiling a mass of white, and sprang sharply upward. The National Preceptor spun his golden wheel and locked onto the silk band. Any ordinary weapon would have been seized and torn from her grasp, but the silk band had not a trace of rigidity and slipped lightly and easily through the wheel’s aperture. The National Preceptor barked: “That was the second move. Here comes the third!” He stepped forward and suddenly released the golden wheel, sending it flying toward Xiaolongnü.

This killing move caught absolutely everyone off guard. The golden wheel spun through the air, hurtling toward Xiaolongnü. Horrified, she crouched low and darted backward. With a clattering roar, a mass of yellow light shot past her face, missing by no more than an inch. The fierce wind scraped her delicate cheek raw. Amid the crowd’s screams, the National Preceptor lunged forward with his long arm, his palm brushing the rim of the wheel. As though alive, the golden wheel turned in midair and hurtled after Xiaolongnü once more. Seeing the terrifying momentum of the wheel’s spin, she dared not try to entangle it with her silk band and could only evade with her supreme lightness skill. The National Preceptor missed twice. “Excellent lightness skill!” he cried. He rushed forward, suddenly thrusting his left fist. clang, against the side of the wheel. At the same time, both his palms shot out, blocking Xiaolongnü’s path, while the golden wheel came clattering around from behind her head.

The wheel’s approach was not particularly fast, but the wind preceding it was already ferocious beyond measure. When the National Preceptor had struck the wheel with his fist, he had already anticipated his opponent’s evasive direction. Thus the wheel, as though it had grown eyes, traced a half-circle through the air and hurtled after her from behind. Xiaolongnü’s leap and dodge had already exhausted every technique she had ever learned, and now she saw the monk’s two palms spread wide, blocking the way before her. The heroes’ ears rang, their vision blurred, every heart was seized with terror.

Yang Guo saw Xiaolongnü in mortal danger. Concerned desperation seized him. He snatched up the golden pestle that Da’erba had left on the ground, launched himself into the air with all his might, raised the pestle, and smashed it against the wheel. With an earth-shaking clang, the vajra pestle slid perfectly into the hollow centre of the wheel. But the golden wheel’s force was simply too ferocious. The impact split the webs of both his thumbs, and fresh blood streamed down. Man, wheel, and pestle crashed to the ground together.

Xiaolongnü glimpsed the golden wheel fall and knew the threat from behind was gone. But she was still in midair, how could she evade the great enemy before her? In her desperation, inspiration struck. She lashed out her silk band and wrapped it around a pillar on the western side, yanking hard. Her body, borrowing the force, flew sideways in the air, crashed into another pillar, and slid down lightly behind it. In that hair’s-breadth moment, she had evaded the National Preceptor’s mountain-splitting palm force.

The National Preceptor had clearly been on the verge of victory, only to have Yang Guo intervene and spoil everything. Not only had his opponent escaped, but his own invincible weapon had been knocked to the ground, a setback he had never encountered in his entire life. He had always been clear and luminous in his self-possession, his wisdom radiant, but now he could not help being overcome by the flames of ignorance.¹³³ Without waiting for Yang Guo to rise, he struck out with a whistling palm, the force tearing through the air toward the boy. By rights, as a grandmaster of a school, with his opponent both a junior and already fallen to the ground without having risen, to strike him like this was utterly beneath his dignity and the pride he had always held. But in his towering rage, he could no longer care.

Guo Jing saw the National Preceptor glare at Yang Guo, raise his shoulder, and draw back his arm. Not good! he thought. If he rushed forward, even if he blocked the blow, Yang Guo would still be injured. In that desperate moment, with no time for careful thought, he used the move “The Dragon Flies in Heaven,”¹³⁴ his entire body soaring into the air as he struck down at the National Preceptor’s skull. If the National Preceptor did not pull back his palm force, though he could kill Yang Guo, he himself would perish beneath this ferociously lethal Dragon-Subduing Palm. The National Preceptor’s palm turned sharply. With a hey of exhalation, his palm met Guo Jing’s.

This was the second exchange of palms between two of the age’s great martial masters. Guo Jing was still in midair, with nothing to brace against. He followed the momentum of the opponent’s palm, flipped half a somersault, and landed behind. The National Preceptor, however, stood firmly in place, body unwavering, feet unmoving, as though nothing had happened. Hao Datong, Sun Bu’er,¹³⁵ the Diancang Fisherman, and the others, who all knew Guo Jing’s martial arts well, were appalled. This foreign monk’s skill is truly unfathomable, they thought. In truth, both times Guo Jing had exchanged palms with him, he had yielded ground, naturally dissipating the opponent’s palm force, this was the orthodox path of martial arts. The National Preceptor, his dignity ruffled by Yang Guo’s interference, had stubbornly insisted on reclaiming face by solidly receiving Guo Jing’s palm force, which greatly drained his neili. Though he appeared to have the upper hand, inwardly he had suffered. Both men were peerless heroes of their generation, and within several dozen moves it would have been hard to determine a victor. By forcing the advantage in a single move, the National Preceptor had again earned a dull ache in his chest. Fortunately, his opponent only sought to save someone and did not press the attack, so the National Preceptor kept his lips sealed, secretly circulating his neili to clear the stagnant qi¹³⁶ that had congealed in his chest.

Yang Guo, having escaped death, scrambled to his feet and ran to Xiaolongnü’s side. She was also coming over to check on him. In the same breath, they asked: “Are you all right?” Both nodded at once, and both faces broke into smiles. They embraced, hearts overflowing with joy.

Yang Guo then raised the vajra pestle, balanced the golden wheel on top of it, and spun it like a juggler’s plate, producing a clattering sound of his own. “Mongol warriors, listen well!” he shouted. “Your great National Preceptor’s weapon has been taken by me. What talk is there of Alliance Chief of the jianghu under heaven? Hurry up and roll back to your foreign granny’s stinking eggs and rotten duck eggs!”

The Mongol warriors were utterly unconvinced. They had seen clearly that the National Preceptor had already defeated Xiaolongnü in the contest. The other side had produced not only Yang Guo but also Guo Jing. They shouted furiously: “Three against one, have you no shame?” “The National Preceptor threw his own golden wheel, how could a brat like you seize it?” “One against one, fight fairly! No outside help!” “Yes, yes, fight again!” The clamour was deafening, but it was all in Mongolian. Aside from Guo Jing, not one of the Central Plains heroes understood a word.

Among the Central Plains heroes, those who understood reason also felt that in terms of martial arts, the National Preceptor was certainly above Xiaolongnü. But the title of Alliance Chief of the jianghu, under no circumstances could it be allowed to fall to a Mongol National Preceptor. Otherwise, the Central Plains jianghu would lose all face, and the morale of those gathered to resist the Mongols would inevitably be sapped before the fight had even begun. The more hot-blooded young men, seeing the Mongol warriors’ clamour, shouted back with curses, and the two sides began trading insults. Weapons were drawn. A mass brawl seemed imminent.

Yang Guo raised the golden pestle and wheel high and said to the National Preceptor, “Still not admitting defeat? You have lost your weapon. What face do you have left? Has there ever been an Alliance Chief of the jianghu who let someone take his weapon?”

The National Preceptor was in the midst of secretly circulating his neili. He heard Yang Guo’s words clearly but dared not open his mouth to reply. Yang Guo, seeing his condition, had already guessed three parts of it. He hurriedly declared loudly: “Heroes, listen well! I will ask him three times. If he does not answer, that means he admits defeat.” Fearing that if too much time passed, the National Preceptor would complete his energy circulation, he did not delay a moment and demanded in a single breath: “Have you lost? Do you dare even think of being Alliance Chief anymore? Your silence means you admit defeat?” The National Preceptor had just dispersed the stagnant energy, and the dull pain in his chest was gone. He was about to answer when Yang Guo, seeing his lips begin to move, quickly spoke first: “Good! Since you admit defeat, we will not make things difficult for you. All of you, leave in peace.” He raised the golden pestle and wheel high and delivered them to Guo Jing. He had originally intended to give them to his master, but he feared the National Preceptor would fly into a rage and try to seize them, and Xiaolongnü would not be able to fend him off.

The National Preceptor’s face swelled purple with rage. He also dreaded Guo Jing’s formidable martial arts. The golden wheel was now in Guo Jing’s hands, to try to take it back barehanded would be hopeless. He could see that the Central Plains warriors had the advantage of numbers. If it came to a group battle, his side would surely be routed. A wise man does not fight when the odds are against him. The only course was to withdraw for now and plan revenge later. “Central Plains barbarians,” he shouted, “full of tricks, relying on numbers to win, no true heroes! Everyone, follow me.” With a wave of his right hand, the Mongol warriors began filing out of the hall. He bowed to Guo Jing from a distance and said, “Hero Guo, Chief Huang, I have witnessed your esteemed skills today. Green mountains never change, clear waters flow forever, we shall meet again.”

Guo Jing bowed in return. “Great Master, your martial arts are profound. I am deeply impressed. Please, take back your weapons, yours and your disciples’.” He moved to hand over the golden wheel and pestle. Yang Guo shouted, “Golden Wheel National Preceptor, do you have the face to reach out and take them?” Guo Jing had just barked, “Guoer, do not talk nonsense!” when the National Preceptor, his robes billowing, turned and strode out of the hall without a backward glance.

Yang Guo suddenly remembered something. “Hey!” he called. “Your disciple Huo Dou has been poisoned by my hidden weapons. Bring your antidote and trade for mine!” The National Preceptor, confident in his divine arts and deep medical knowledge, believed he could cure any poison. He detested Yang Guo’s cunning and insolence and ignored him completely, walking straight out. Huang Rong saw that Zhu Ziliu had closed his eyes and drifted into sleep. This place has gathered many masters who use poisoned hidden weapons, she thought. Surely someone can treat his wounds. She saw that the National Preceptor was unwilling to exchange antidotes and did not take it too seriously.

By now, Lu Manor, front and back, was roaring with jubilation. Everyone was cheering for Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü’s victory over the Golden Wheel National Preceptor. Crowds of hundreds gathered around the two, buzzing with discussion. Some said Yang Guo had defeated Huo Dou by giving him a taste of his own medicine. Others said Xiaolongnü’s lightness skill was transcendent, that she had actually evaded the golden wheel’s ferocious flying attack. But as for how Yang Guo had used the Soul-Shifting Technique to make Da’erba knock himself unconscious, eight or nine out of ten could not understand it. When people asked, Yang Guo spun wild tales, and the questioners came away half-comprehending. If they pressed further, their confusion only deepened.

---

Author’s Note

In the first edition of this novel, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor appeared as the Golden Wheel “Dharma King,”¹³⁷ his identity being that of a Tibetan Lamaist Dharma King. Some readers criticised the author for discriminating against Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism by frequently casting lamas as villains. In truth, the author holds Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism in equal reverence, respecting it no differently than other schools of Buddhism, and absolutely does not discriminate against Tibetan compatriots in Tibet, Qinghai, Sichuan, Gansu, Yunnan, Inner Mongolia, or elsewhere. The author has received empowerment from the Tibetan Buddhist master Ningbuqie,¹³⁸ who bestowed purification, clarity, and evil-warding mantras that the author can recite fluently after thorough study. In the author’s living room hangs a large thangka¹³⁹ tapestry of Padmasambhava¹⁴⁰ in divine manifestation, brought out of Tibet by Tibetan compatriots. According to historical records, after the mid-Yuan dynasty, Mongol rulers occupied the Central Plains and exploited a minority of Tibetan lamas to oppress the people, committing many licentious acts that violated Buddhist principles and precepts. The portrayal of lamas as antagonists in this story is not intentional discrimination. To avoid misunderstanding, in this third edition the original “Dharma King” has been changed to “Mongol National Preceptor,” though his personal conduct remains roughly based on the “foreign monk” behaviour described in historical records, wholly unrelated to the noble and saintly conduct of other lamas.

Footnotes

1. 金轮国师 – Jīnlún Guóshī. Mongol Empire’s national teacher and martial arts adept. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. Huo Dou (霍都). Huò Dōu. Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s third disciple, a Mongol prince. Cunning and ruthless, he uses a folding fan with hidden poison darts. ↩

3. Mongolian battle command. National Preceptor speaks in Mongolian, which Jin Yong renders phonetically. Actual meaning is not given but is understood by his disciples as tactical instruction. ↩

4. Violent Gale Thunder Skill (狂风迅雷功). Kuángfēng Xùnléi Gōng. Mongolian Vajra Sect martial art that combines fierce attacks with thunderous battle cries to intimidate and overpower opponents. ↩

5. 朱子柳 – Zhū Zǐliǔ. His name meaning “master willow”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. Autobiography (自言帖). Famous piece of cursive calligraphy by the Tang dynasty “Sage of Cursive Script”, Zhang Xu. ↩

7. 黄蓉 – Huáng Róng. Her name meaning “lotus” or “hibiscus”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. Baoxie Road Stone Inscriptions (褒斜道石刻). Bāoxié Dào Shíkè. Ancient stone carvings along the Baoxie Plank Road, featuring calligraphy in the “lean and hard” style praised by the ancients. Quote “Only when lean and hard can one penetrate the divine” (瘦硬方通神) refers to this calligraphic aesthetic. ↩

9. 杨过 – Yáng Guò. His name meaning “fault or transgression”; his courtesy name Gaizhi means “to correct it”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 小龙女 – Xiǎolóngnǚ. Literally little dragon maiden. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 古墓 – Gǔmù. Underground tomb complex beneath Zhongnan Mountain, home of the Ancient Tomb School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. Beauty-preserving neili (驻颜内功). Ancient Tomb Sect’s internal cultivation methods preserve youthfulness. Combined with the absence of sunlight and suppressed emotions, practitioners age at roughly half the normal rate. ↩

13. Seven emotions and six desires (七情六欲). Qīqíng Liùyù. In traditional Chinese thought: the seven emotions are joy, anger, grief, fear, love, hate, and desire; the six desires arise from the six senses. Suppressing these was key to the Ancient Tomb Sect’s cultivation. ↩

14. 郭芙 – Guō Fú. Her name meaning “lotus”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. Thornwood hairpin (荆钗). Jīngchāi. Simple hairpin made from thornwood, symbolising the austere, unadorned lifestyle of the Ancient Tomb Sect. Xiaolongnü wears no jewellery or ornamentation. ↩

16. 过儿 – Guò’ér. Affectionate diminutive of Yang Guo’s name, with the diminutive suffix -er indicating affection or familiarity. ↩

17. Grandma Sun (孙婆婆). Elderly caretaker of the Ancient Tomb who rescued Yang Guo when he fled the Quanzhen Sect. She was killed by Hao Datong while protecting Yang Guo, and with her dying breath she entrusted him to Xiaolongnü’s care. ↩

18. Gugu (姑姑) — Literally “paternal aunt,” but used here as a term of respectful address for a young woman of the older generation. Yang Guo uses this to address Xiaolongnü, his shifu. ↩

19. Mongolian battle command. Second phonetic Mongolian utterance from the National Preceptor during combat; the heroes do not understand the words, but Huo Dou and other disciples recognise them as tactical instruction. ↩

20. 大理 – Dàlǐ. Historical kingdom in present-day Yunnan Province (937–1253), contemporaneous with the Song dynasty. In the Condor Trilogy it is associated with the Duan imperial family and Great Master Yideng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

21. Great Song (大宋). Song dynasty (960–1279), the Han Chinese empire facing Mongol invasion from the north. ↩

22. Stone Drum Script (石鼓文). Shígǔwén. Oldest known Chinese stone inscriptions, dating to the Spring and Autumn period (c. 770-476 BCE). Carved on drum-shaped stones in great seal script, they are considered the origin of Chinese calligraphy. ↩

23. Spring and Autumn period (春秋). Chūnqiū. Era of Chinese history (c. 770-476 BCE) named after the Spring and Autumn Annals. Time of warfare among feudal states, it was also the golden age of Chinese philosophy. ↩

24. Great seal script (大篆). Dàzhuàn. Ancient form of Chinese writing predating the Qin dynasty unification of scripts. Its characters are highly pictographic and difficult for later readers to recognise. ↩

25. 一阳指 – Yīyáng Zhǐ. Literally One Yang Finger. Dali Duan family’s signature finger technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

26. ‘Thou’ character (尔). Ěr. Archaic classical Chinese second-person pronoun. Ancient seal script form bears a superficial resemblance to the character for “net” (网), which is why Huo Dou misidentifies it. ↩

27. ‘Art’ character (乃). Nǎi. Another archaic classical Chinese word. In ancient seal script, it somewhat resembles the character for “moon” (月), leading to Huo Dou’s second mistake. ↩

28. Cursive Script (草书). Highly abbreviated, flowing style of Chinese calligraphy where characters are written with swift, connected strokes. Most expressive and individualistic of the major scripts. ↩

29. “Thou art a barbarian” (尔乃蛮夷). Ěr Nǎi Mányí. Classical Chinese insult from the Central Plains perspective, dismissing non-Han peoples as uncivilised. Phrase draws on millennia of Sino-centric worldview. ↩

30. Regular, cursive, clerical, and seal scripts (真草隶篆). Four major styles of Chinese calligraphy, each used by Zhu Ziliu as a different mode of martial expression through the Yiyang Finger. ↩

31. acupoint (穴道). Xuédào. In Chinese martial arts theory, specific points on the body’s meridian system that can be struck to disable, paralyse, or kill. Sealing acupoints is a core technique in advanced martial arts. ↩

32. 郭靖 – Guō Jìng. His name meaning “tranquillity” or “pacification”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

33. Wu Brothers. Wu Dunru (武敦儒) and Wu Xiuwen (武修文), sons of Wu Santong, disciples of Guo Jing and Huang Rong. ↩

34. Poison darts (毒钉). Dúdīng. Small darts coated with a poison derived from Mongolian snow mountain toxins, concealed within the ribs of Huo Dou’s folding fan and fired by a spring mechanism. ↩

35. 点苍渔隐 – Diǎncāng Yúyǐn. Hermit Fisherman of Diancang; one of Great Master Yideng’s four disciples. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

36. 达尔巴 – Dá’ěrbā. Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s second disciple. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

37. 李莫愁 – Lǐ Mòchóu. Her name meaning “do not sorrow”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

38. Kasaya (袈裟). Jiāshā. Traditional outer robe worn by Buddhist monastics. Da’erba’s is described as crimson red, following Tibetan Buddhist tradition. ↩

39. Vajra pestle (金刚降魔杵). Jīngāng Xiángmó Chǔ. Literally “vajra demon-subduing pestle.” A ritual implement in Esoteric Buddhism representing the indestructible vajra thunderbolt, adapted as a heavy bludgeoning weapon. ↩

40. Dharma-protecting elder (护法尊者). Hùfǎ Zūnzhě. In Esoteric Buddhism, wrathful deity figures who protect the dharma. Their iconography includes the vajra pestle. ↩

41. Esoteric Buddhism (密宗). Mìzōng. Also known as Vajrayana or Tantric Buddhism, the form of Buddhism practised in Tibet and Mongolia. It emphasises mantras, mandalas, and direct transmission from master to disciple. ↩ ↩²

42. Jing Gege (靖哥哥). Jìng Gēge. Huang Rong’s affectionate term for Guo Jing, literally “Brother Jing.” The suffix “-gege” is an intimate form of address. ↩

43. 打狗棒 – Dǎgǒu Bàng. Symbol of Beggar Clan chief’s authority; green bamboo staff. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

44. Iron oars (铁桨). Tiějiǎng. Diancang Fisherman’s signature weapons, modelled on boat oars but forged from iron. Each weighs over fifty jin. ↩

45. Bai language (摆夷语). Bǎiyí Yǔ. Language of the Bai ethnic group of the Dali region in modern-day Yunnan. Diancang Fisherman, being from Dali, curses in his native tongue. ↩

46. External hard-style martial arts (外门硬功). Wàimén Yìnggōng. Martial arts that focus on developing external physical strength, conditioning the body to deliver and withstand powerful blows, as opposed to neili cultivation. ↩

47. 一灯大师 – Yīdēng Dàshī. Literally one-lamp master; a Buddhist honorific title. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

48. Western Hunan (湘西). Xiāngxī. Mountainous region in western Hunan province where Great Master Yideng and his disciples lived in seclusion. ↩

49. neili (内功). Nèigōng. Cultivation of qi through meditation, breathing exercises, and specialised training. neili enhances all martial arts and is the foundation of advanced techniques. ↩

50. 斤 – jīn. Traditional Chinese unit of weight, approximately one pound or half a kilogram. ↩

51. 蓉儿 – Róng’ér. Intimate nickname for Huang Rong, with the diminutive suffix -er indicating affection or familiarity. ↩

52. Alliance Chief of the jianghu (武林盟主). Wǔlín Méngzhǔ. Elected leader of the jianghu, chosen at a grand assembly to unite all schools and sects against a common threat. This title is the central conflict of the chapter. ↩

53. 江南 – Jiāngnán. Prosperous region south of Yangtze River, continued from LOCH era. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

54. 缠字诀 – Chán Zì Jué. One of the eight formulae of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique, using coiling motions. ↩

55. “Jab” formula (戳字诀). Chuō Zìjué. Another of the eight core Dog-Beating Staff Technique formulae, using sharp, probing thrusts. ↩

56. 金刚宗 – Jīngāng Zōng. Vajra (Diamond/Thunderbolt) school of Esoteric Buddhism, known for distinctive martial arts including the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Skill. ↩

57. 轻功 – qīnggōng. Literally lightness skill. Martial art of body lightness; masters can leap great heights and move with extraordinary speed. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

58. “Leaping Circle” acupoint (环跳穴). Huántiào Xué. Acupoint on the lateral thigh, part of the Gallbladder meridian. Striking it can disable leg movement. ↩

59. 江湖 – jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. Term refers to the jianghu: the subculture of wandering knights-errant, martial artists, and sect members who live outside mainstream society, governed by its own codes of honour, loyalty, and vengeance. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

60. Four horses cannot overtake a word once spoken (驷不及舌). Sì Bùjí Shé. Classical Chinese proverb meaning that once words leave the mouth, even a team of four horses cannot catch them. Equivalent to “a word spoken is past recalling.” ↩

61. 洪七公 – Hóng Qīgōng. Literally Hong the Seventh Lord; the numeral seven marks seniority among sworn brothers. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

62. Han (汉). Hàn. Majority ethnic group of China, often used to refer to the Chinese people as distinct from non-Chinese peoples like the Mongols. ↩

63. 郝大通 – Hǎo Dàtōng. His name meaning “great penetration”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

64. 赵志敬 – Zhào Zhìjìng. His name meaning “aspiring to reverence”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

65. 甄志丙 – Zhēn Zhìbǐng. His name meaning “aspiring to the third stem”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

66. 华山 – Huáshān. One of China’s Five Sacred Mountains, site of martial arts competitions. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

67. 欧阳锋 – Ōuyáng Fēng. His name meaning “blade” or “cutting edge”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

68. 鲁有脚 – Lǔ Yǒujiǎo. His name meaning “having feet”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

69. “Barrier Origin” acupoint (关元穴). Guānyuán Xué. Located three inches below the navel, a key point on the Conception Vessel meridian (renmai). Striking it can be lethal or crippling. ↩

70. 任脉 – Rèn Mài. Conception Vessel, one of the Eight Extraordinary Meridians in neigong practice. ↩

71. Sword talisman (剑诀). Jiànjué. Hand gesture used in Chinese swordsmanship where the index and middle fingers are extended while the other fingers are curled, guiding the sword’s energy and direction. ↩

72. 玉蜂金针 – Yùfēng Jīnzhēn. Ancient Tomb Sect’s signature hidden weapon, extremely fine golden needles coated with a unique poison derived from the jade bees kept in the Ancient Tomb. ↩

73. Reincarnation (转世轮回). Zhuǎnshì Lúnhuí. Buddhist concept of rebirth. In Tibetan Buddhism, the recognition of reincarnated masters (tulkus) is a central tradition. Da’erba’s belief that Yang Guo is his senior brother reborn exploits this doctrine. ↩

74. Five Ugly Men of Sichuan (川边五丑). Five martial artists from the Sichuan border region, known for their villainy. “ugliness” in their name refers more to their evil conduct than their physical appearance. Hong Qigong has been tracking them to eliminate them all at once. ↩

75. Meridians (经脉). Jīngmài. In traditional Chinese medicine and martial arts, the network of channels through which qi flows. Destroying all eight extraordinary meridians cripples a martial artist’s abilities permanently. ↩

76. 玉女剑法 – Yùnǚ Jiànfǎ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

77. 天罗地网势 – Tiānluó Dìwǎng Shì. Ancient Tomb School qinggong for intercepting and capturing. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

78. 林朝英 – Lín Cháoyīng. Her name meaning “facing the hero” or “morning hero”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

79. 终南山 – Zhōngnán Shān. Sacred Daoist mountain housing both Quanzhen Order and Ancient Tomb School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

80. 小擒拿手 – Xiǎo Qínná Shǒu. Grappling and joint-locking technique. Qinna (擒拿) is the art of seizing and controlling an opponent through joint locks and pressure-point manipulation; the Small variant uses the hands and fingers rather than the whole body. ↩

81. 寒玉床 – Hán Yù Chuáng. Bed carved from rare deep-cold jade found by Lin Chaoying. Training on it greatly accelerates neili cultivation by forcing the practitioner to circulate qi constantly to resist the cold. ↩

82. 夭矫空碧 – Yāojiǎo Kōngbì. Qinggong technique from the Ancient Tomb School involving dramatic high leaps and swooping descents. ↩

83. White gold thread (白金丝). Báijīn Sī. Extremely fine, extremely durable metal thread woven into gloves. Resistant to all blades, it allows the wearer to grab and twist sharp weapons barehanded. ↩

84. 重阳宫 – Chóngyáng Gōng. Main temple of Quanzhen Order on Zhongnan Mountain. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

85. 美女拳法 – Měinǚ Quánfǎ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

86. Hongyu Beats the Drum (红玉击鼓). Hóngyù Jīgǔ. Beauty Fist move based on the story of Liang Hongyu, a Song-dynasty woman who beat war drums to rally troops against invading forces. ↩

87. Hongfu Flees by Night (红拂夜奔). Hóngfú Yèbēn. Beauty Fist move based on the Tang-dynasty tale of Hongfu, a courtesan who eloped with the man she loved under cover of night. ↩

88. Lüzhu Falls from the Tower (绿珠堕楼). Lǜzhū Duòlóu. Beauty Fist move based on the story of Lüzhu, a Jin-dynasty beauty who leapt to her death from a tower rather than be taken by an enemy warlord. ↩

89. Wenji Returns to Han (文姬归汉). Wénjī Guī Hàn. Beauty Fist move based on Cai Wenji, a Han-dynasty poet captured by nomads who was later ransomed and returned. Her story inspired the “Eighteen Stanzas of the Nomad Flute” (胡笳十八拍). ↩

90. Hongxian Steals the Box (红线盗盒). Hóngxiàn Dào Hé. Beauty Fist move based on the Tang-dynasty tale of Hongxian, a female spy who infiltrated an enemy camp and stole a crucial box. ↩

91. Mulan Draws the Bow (木兰弯弓). Mùlán Wān Gōng. Beauty Fist move based on Hua Mulan, the legendary woman who disguised herself as a man to serve in the army in her father’s place. ↩

92. Ban Ji Composes History (班姬作史). Bān Jī Zuò Shǐ. Beauty Fist move based on Ban Zhao, the Han-dynasty female historian who completed her brother Ban Gu’s Book of Han. ↩

93. Chang’e Steals the Elixir (嫦娥窃药). Cháng’é Qiè Yào. Beauty Fist move based on the myth of Chang’e, who stole the elixir of immortality and flew to the moon. ↩

94. Unsurpassed Great Force Pestle Technique (无上大力杵法). Wúshàng Dàlì Chǔfǎ. Vajra Sect technique of sixteen simple moves (eight horizontal, eight vertical) performed with overwhelming physical power. Its simplicity is its strength. ↩

95. “The Dragon Appears in the Field” (见龙在田). Jiàn Lóng Zài Tián. Second move of the Eighteen Palms of Dragon Subduing, a defensive technique. Name comes from the Book of Changes (I Ching). ↩

96. Swallow threading through a curtain (燕子穿帘). Yànzi Chuān Lián. Lightness skill technique involving a flat, skimming trajectory just above the ground, like a swallow darting through a door curtain. ↩

97. 九阴真经 – Jiǔyīn Zhēnjīng. Legendary martial arts compendium compiled by Huang Shang during the Northern Song dynasty. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

98. 王重阳 – Wáng Chóngyáng. His name meaning “double yang”, the ninth day of the ninth lunar month. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

99. Elder Peng (彭长老). One of the Beggar Clan’s four great elders who betrayed the clan and joined the Mongols. ↩

100. 移魂大法 – Yíhún Dàfǎ. Technique from the Nine Yin Manual. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

101. 君山 – Jūn Shān. Island in Lake Dongting, site of the Beggar Clan assembly where Huang Rong became chief. ↩

102. 洞庭湖 – Dòngtíng Hú. Great lake in Hunan province. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

103. Heart-Seizing Art (慑心术). Shèxīn Shù. Hypnotic technique used by Elder Peng to control others’ minds. Huang Rong once defeated it using the Soul-Shifting Technique. ↩

104. 玉女心经 – Yùnǚ Xīnjīng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

105. “Stopping the Constructed Mind” (制心止). Zhì Xīn Zhǐ. Buddhist meditation technique of halting the mind’s habitual mental constructions, a prerequisite for deeper states. ↩

106. “Realising True Cessation” (体真止). Tǐ Zhēn Zhǐ. Deeper stage of meditation where one directly experiences the true nature of cessation. ↩

107. “Willowy Waist, So Slender” (蛮腰纤纤). Mán Yāo Xiānxiān. Beauty Fist move based on Xiaoman, the beloved concubine of the Tang poet Bai Juyi, famous for her slender waist. ↩

108. Xiaoman (小蛮). Xiǎo Mán. Concubine of the Tang poet Bai Juyi, renowned for her slender waist. Phrase “willowy waist of Xiaoman” became a classical allusion for feminine grace. ↩

109. Bai Letian (白乐天). Bái Lètiān. Courtesy name of Bai Juyi (白居易, 772-846), one of the greatest poets of the Tang dynasty. ↩

110. Lihua Dresses Her Hair (丽华梳装). Lìhuá Shūzhuāng. Beauty Fist move based on Zhang Lihua, the legendary beauty whose hair was seven feet long. ↩

111. Zhang Lihua (张丽华). Zhāng Lìhuá. Favourite consort of Chen Shubao, the Last Ruler of the Chen dynasty (Southern Dynasties period). Her legendary beauty was said to have distracted the emperor from governance. ↩

112. Last Ruler of Southern Tang (李后主). Lǐ Hòuzhǔ. Li Yu (李煜, 937-978), the last ruler of the Southern Tang dynasty, renowned as a poet. His kingdom fell to the Song while he was absorbed in poetry and love. Jin Yong uses him to symbolise beauty that brings ruin. (Note: Jin Yong conflates Zhang Lihua of the Chen dynasty with Li Yu’s consorts for literary effect.) ↩

113. Pingji the Needle Goddess (萍姬针神). Píngjī Zhēnshén. Beauty Fist move based on a legendary woman skilled in needlework. ↩

114. Xizi Clutches Her Heart (西子捧心). Xīzǐ Pěng Xīn. Beauty Fist move based on Xi Shi, one of the Four Great Beauties of ancient China, who was said to be so beautiful that even her gesture of clutching her heart in pain was enchanting. ↩

115. Dongshi Copies the Frown (东施效颦). Dōngshī Xiào Pín. Classical idiom about an ugly woman named Dongshi who tried to imitate Xi Shi’s charming frown and only made herself uglier. Idiom means to imitate badly. ↩

116. “Goddess of the Luo River’s Subtle Steps” (洛神微步). Luòshén Wēibù. Beauty Fist move based on the Goddess of the Luo River, celebrated in poetry by Cao Zhi. Description “light as a startled crow, sinuous as a wandering serpent” comes from Cao Zhi’s fu poem. ↩

117. Cao Ling Cuts Off Her Nose (曹令割鼻). Cáo Lìng Gē Bí. Beauty Fist move based on the story of Cao Wenshu’s wife, who disfigured herself to prove she would never remarry after her husband’s death. ↩

118. Cao Wenshu (曹文叔). Cáo Wénshū. Man of the Three Kingdoms period whose wife, Ling, cut off her own nose after his death to demonstrate her resolve never to remarry, becoming a symbol of wifely chastity in Confucian lore. ↩

119. “Secluded Dwelling in the Ancient Tomb” (古墓幽居). Gǔmù Yōujū. Closing form of the Beauty Fist Technique, created by Yang Guo himself to honour Lin Chaoying. Its posture imitates Xiaolongnü’s lonely grace. ↩

120. Golden wheel (金轮). Jīnlún. National Preceptor’s signature weapon, a wheel of gold alloy engraved with Sanskrit mantras and containing nine hidden balls. It is designed to seize and disarm opponents’ weapons. ↩

121. Sanskrit (梵文). Fànwén. Classical liturgical language of Buddhism, used for mantras and scriptures in Esoteric Buddhist traditions. ↩

122. Mantras (真言). Zhēnyán. Sacred syllables or phrases in Esoteric Buddhism, believed to have spiritual power when chanted. National Preceptor’s wheel is engraved with such mantras. ↩

123. “Demon-Subduing, Spirit-Quelling Mantra” (降魔伏妖咒). Xiángmó Fúyāo Zhòu. Protective Esoteric Buddhist mantra for subduing demons and quelling evil spirits. National Preceptor recites this before fighting Xiaolongnü, suspecting she may use sorcery. ↩

124. Bodhisattva (菩萨). Púsà. Enlightened being in Buddhism who delays nirvana to help others achieve liberation. Yang Guo’s claim that Xiaolongnü is a bodhisattva reborn is playful hyperbole. ↩

125. “Central Islet” acupoint (中渚穴). Zhōngzhǔ Xué. Acupoint on the back of the hand, part of the Triple Burner meridian. ↩

126. “Joining Valley” acupoint (合谷穴). Hégǔ Xué. Acupoint on the tiger’s mouth between thumb and index finger, part of the Large Intestine meridian. ↩

127. “Crooked Marsh” acupoint (曲泽穴). Qūzé Xué. Acupoint in the bend of the elbow, part of the Pericardium meridian. ↩

128. “Wind Pool” acupoint (风池穴). Fēngchí Xué. Vital acupoint at the base of the skull, part of the Gallbladder meridian. Strike here can be fatal. ↩

129. Qin (琴). Qín. Traditional Chinese seven-stringed zither, considered the most refined of musical instruments. Xiaolongnü learned to play from scores left by Lin Chaoying. ↩

130. 武林 – wǔlín. Literally martial forest. Martial arts community and its schools and practitioners. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

131. 桃花岛 – Táohuā Dǎo. Huang Yaoshi’s island stronghold, continued from LOCH era. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

132. 黄药师 – Huáng Yàoshī. His name meaning “medicine master”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

133. Flames of ignorance (无明). Wúmíng. Buddhist concept (avidya) referring to the fundamental ignorance that causes suffering and anger. National Preceptor’s rage is described in Buddhist terms, ironically for a monk. ↩

134. “The Dragon Flies in Heaven” (飞龙在天). Fēi Lóng Zài Tiān. Fifth move of the Eighteen Palms of Dragon Subduing, a powerful airborne attack. Name comes from the Book of Changes. ↩

135. 孙不二 – Sūn Bùèr. Her name meaning “not two”, signifying non-duality. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

136. 气 – qì. Vital energy or life force that circulates through the body. In martial arts, qi cultivation is the foundation of neili. ↩

137. Dharma King (法王). Fǎwáng. Title for high-ranking Tibetan Buddhist masters. In earlier editions, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor was called the Golden Wheel Dharma King, implying he was a Tibetan lama. ↩

138. Ningbuqie (宁布切). Níngbùqiè. Tibetan Buddhist master who gave the author empowerment and taught him mantras. ↩

139. Thangka (唐卡). Tángkǎ. Tibetan Buddhist painted or embroidered banner, typically depicting deities, mandalas, or spiritual scenes. Hung in temples and homes for meditation and blessing. ↩

140. Padmasambhava (莲花生上师). Liánhuāshēng Shàngshī. Also known as Guru Rinpoche, the 8th-century Indian Buddhist master who brought Esoteric Buddhism to Tibet. His name means “Lotus-Born.” ↩