The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 16

The Deep Enmity of a Father's Death.

When Yang Guo¹ and Lu Wushuang² learned that Blacksmith Feng was actually Cheng Ying³’s shixiong, they were both astonished and overjoyed. A disciple of Huang Yaoshi⁴, surely his martial skills could not be lacking. To gain such powerful aid at a moment of desperate danger was fortune beyond all hope.

Li Mochou⁵ said coolly, “You have already been expelled from your shifu’s school. Clinging to it still, isn’t that absurd beyond measure? Today I intend to kill these three little ones and this foolish woman. You stand aside and enjoy the spectacle.” Feng Mofeng⁶ said slowly, “Though I once studied martial arts, I have never in my entire life raised a hand against another person. Besides, my leg is broken. I am no fighter.” Li Mochou said, “Indeed. Nothing could be better. There is no need for you to throw away your life.” Feng Mofeng shook his head. “I will not permit you to touch a single hair on my shijie’s head. These people are her friends, do not think to bully them either.”

Li Mochou’s killing intent surged. She laughed. “Then all four of you come at once, that would be delightful.” She rose to her feet. Blacksmith Feng remained utterly composed. To the rhythm of his hammering, like an opera performer following the beat of gongs and drums, he struck once, spoke a few words, deliberate and measured: “I have been away from my shifu’s school for over thirty years. My martial skills have long since grown rusty. I must think carefully, sort them out in my mind.”

Li Mochou gave a cold laugh. “In all my years wandering the jianghu⁷, I have truly never seen anyone sharpen their spear only as the battle begins, clutch at Buddha’s feet only in desperation.⁸ Today I have broadened my horizons indeed. Feng Mofeng, in your entire life, have you truly never fought anyone?” Feng Mofeng said, “I studied martial arts but offended my shifu’s school, abandoned it midway, and lost all heart. Life itself seemed meaningless. Ever since, I have never dared offend another. If others beat me or cursed me, I did not contend with them. Naturally, no fights ever started.” Li Mochou sneered. “Heh heh. Old Heretic Huang truly picks only festering pustules as disciples, sent into the world to lose face for him.” Feng Mofeng said, “Please, do not speak ill of my honoured shifu.” Li Mochou smiled faintly. “He long ago cast you out as a disciple, yet you still go on about ‘honoured shifu’ this and ‘honoured shifu’ that. Aren’t you afraid people will laugh their teeth out?”

Feng Mofeng continued hammering, steady and unhurried. Slowly he said, “All my life I have been lonely and wretched. In this world, my sole family is my honoured shifu. If I do not revere and love him, whom else could I miss? Shimei, has our honoured shifu been well lately?” Cheng Ying said, “He has been well.” A joyful expression appeared on Feng Mofeng’s face. He said, “Shimei, the one wish of my life is to repay our shifu’s great kindness with this worthless old life of mine. To die today defending the honor of Peach Blossom Island, that is exactly as I would wish.”

Li Mochou saw the genuine emotion flowing from him and thought, Old Heretic Huang, a grandmaster of his generation, truly possessed surpassing qualities. He beat his disciple into this state, yet this man remains so loyal and devoted to him.

By now the wrought iron had gradually cooled. Blacksmith Feng tonged it back into the furnace to reheat. But his mind was elsewhere, what he thrust into the furnace was not the iron piece but the large iron hammer in his right hand. Li Mochou laughed. “Blacksmith Feng, take your time recalling your shifu’s teachings. No need to fluster yourself.” Feng Mofeng did not answer. He gazed into the red furnace flames, deep in thought. After a moment, he thrust the crutch braced under his left shoulder into the furnace as well. Yang Guo and Lu Wushuang cried out together: “Hey! That’s your crutch!” Cheng Ying also called out, “Elder shixiong!” Feng Mofeng still did not answer, his eyes staring dully at the furnace fire. But in the fierce flames, the crutch did not burn, it merely grew redder and redder. It was an iron crutch. After another moment, the iron hammer too had been heated to a glowing red, yet he held the hammer handle and crutch as though they did not burn his hands at all.

Only now did Li Mochou’s contempt shift to caution. She realized this shabby-looking blacksmith possessed something extraordinary. Fearing a sudden attack, she swept her horsetail whisk several times and leaped backward out the door, calling, “Blacksmith Feng, come!”

Feng Mofeng answered by striding out the door. His movements were agile and vigorous, nothing like a man with a crippled body. He shed his long gown, threw it to the ground, and planted the red-hot iron crutch in the earth. “You, immortal nun,” he said, “please do not curse my honoured shifu again, nor trouble my shijie. Then this wretched blacksmith will not contend with you.” Li Mochou said, “I will spare only you. If you are afraid, simply do not interfere.” Feng Mofeng ground his teeth and said in a heavy voice, “Very well. I was going to repay my shifu’s kindness anyway!” As he spoke, his whole body trembled, his teeth clenched.

Li Mochou raised her whisk and struck straight for his crown. Feng Mofeng leaped aside with remarkable agility, but his arms were shaking, and he dared not counterattack. Li Mochou pressed forward with three consecutive moves. He evaded each with clever footwork, still refusing to strike back.

Yang Guo and the other two stood watching, waiting for an opening to assist. They saw Li Mochou’s attacks growing tighter. Feng Mofeng seemed indeed never to have fought before. Combined with his naturally gentle nature, he could not bring himself to swing that red-hot iron hammer. Within a few exchanges, Feng Mofeng had already taken several hits and was staggering. Yang Guo thought this was dire. This reclusive martial master, for all his skill, had no heart for combat. He must be provoked into rage. So Yang Guo shouted, “Li Mochou! Why do you curse the Master of Peach Blossom Island as unfilial and disloyal, unrighteous and unkind?”

Li Mochou thought, When did I ever curse him like that? She intensified her attacks and did not answer. Yang Guo shouted again: “You say the Master of Peach Blossom Island violated men’s wives and daughters, abducted people’s children, did you witness this with your own eyes? You say he deceived his friends and betrayed his benefactors, is there truly such a thing? Why do you spread these rumors throughout the jianghu, destroying Island Master Huang’s pure reputation and good name?”

Cheng Ying was bewildered, but Feng Mofeng’s fury had already ignited. A fierce courage surged from his chest. Hammer and crutch struck out together. Standing on his left leg in the “Golden Rooster Stands Alone” posture,⁹ he was as steady as if nailed to the ground. Hammer and crutch, carrying a wave of searing heat, pressed straight at Li Mochou.

Li Mochou saw the ferocity of his advance and dared not meet it head-on. She leaped and dodged, seeking openings to counter. Yang Guo shouted again: “Li Mochou! You curse the Master of Peach Blossom Island as a swindling charlatan, a shameless wretch. I say it is you who are shameless!” The more Feng Mofeng heard, the angrier he grew. Hammer and crutch swept horizontally and pressed vertically, irresistible in their ferocity. At first, his techniques were noticeably rusty, but as the fight went on, they grew smoother and smoother.

After leaving Peach Blossom Island, Feng Mofeng had practiced without pause for thirty years. His training time far exceeded Li Mochou’s. But Li Mochou had roamed the jianghu, fought hundreds of battles large and small, her experience and insight surpassed his a hundredfold. After twenty or thirty exchanges, Li Mochou knew Feng Mofeng’s power was not weak, but his experience was sorely lacking. Moreover, with only one leg, he would certainly lose if the fight dragged on. She resolved to fight a battle of attrition, waiting for his fierce momentum to flag before counterattacking. Sure enough, after another ten-odd exchanges, Feng Mofeng’s anger cooled slightly and his fighting spirit slackened. He gradually fell behind.

Yang Guo kept shouting, falsely accusing Li Mochou of slandering Huang Yaoshi everywhere she went. Feng Mofeng grew incandescent with rage. He bellowed, “You curse my honoured shifu. I will fight you to the death!” His face took several whisk strikes, blood streaming down, his expression terrifying. He paid no heed to his injuries. Brandishing the red-hot hammer and crutch, he charged at Li Mochou, heedless of his own life, determined to drag her down with him. Li Mochou saw his desperate, clinging assault and, faced with such reckless valor, could not help but feel fear. She retreated several steps, calling, “No more fighting! I do not wish to kill you!” Feng Mofeng roared, “I wish to repay my shifu’s kindness, that means I want you to kill me!” His courage swelled. He struck wildly and furiously. Li Mochou saw the danger and also feared Yang Guo lurking nearby. She thought, This boy’s martial skills have advanced greatly. He too is not to be taken lightly. Now seeking only escape, she swept her whisk at Feng Mofeng’s chest.

Feng Mofeng blocked with his hammer. The whisk curved around it, wrapping around the hammerhead. This was Li Mochou’s supreme technique for disarming an opponent, one pull and one flick, and Feng Mofeng’s iron hammer would certainly fly from his grip. But hiss, hiss, hiss, a soft sound, green smoke rising, and everyone smelled burning. The whisk’s bristles had been scorched clean off.

Thus Li Mochou not only failed to seize her opponent’s weapon but lost her own. Calm in crisis, she cast aside the whisk handle and switched to the Scarlet Serpent Divine Palm.¹⁰ Though formidable, this palm technique required close-quarters engagement to be effective. Feng Mofeng, hammer in right hand and crutch in left, swung with howling wind, smooth and effortless. Between the two darting figures, green smoke kept rising. Li Mochou’s Daoist robe was brushing against the red-hot hammer and crutch, burning away piece by piece. She was enraged. She could clearly have won, yet this old blacksmith had gained the advantage through his weapon. She could not accept it and resolved to land one fierce palm strike to vent her fury.

This was Feng Mofeng’s first time fighting another person. Had he suffered repeated setbacks at the start, he would have immediately shrunk back. But now, with the upper hand, he wielded hammer and crutch with exquisite skill. Li Mochou tried to strike him with her palm, but several times she nearly touched the iron hammer or crutch, had she not dodged quickly, her palm would have been scorched. Suddenly Feng Mofeng cried out, “Hey! You, woman, this is far too indecent!” He hopped back half a zhang¹¹ on his single leg. Li Mochou froze. A cool breeze blew past, and pieces of her clothing flew away in all directions. Her arms, shoulders, chest, and thighs, large patches of skin were exposed. She was a virgin. The shame was unbearable. Just as she turned to flee, a chill touched her back, and another large piece of her robe flew away.

Yang Guo saw her wretched state. He picked up the worn outer robe Feng Mofeng had shed and hurled it at her back with neili¹². The robe wrapped around her like a person embracing her with open arms. Li Mochou hastily thrust her arms through the sleeves and pulled the lapels together. For all the great battles she had seen in her life, at this moment she could not help feeling shock and shame intermingled, her face alternating between red and white. She did not know whether to continue fighting. She thought, If I engage again, this garment too will burn. I must swallow my anger for now. She nodded to Yang Guo, thanking him for the gift of the robe, then turned to Feng Mofeng and said, “You use such bizarre weapons, truly the direct heretical line of Old Heretic Huang. Speak honestly: if we fought with true martial skill, could you defeat me? If a disciple of Old Heretic Huang fought me in a proper one-on-one duel, could he gain the upper hand?”

Feng Mofeng said frankly, “If you had not lost your weapon, then given enough time, you would have defeated me.” Li Mochou said proudly, “You know it well. What I wrote on that paper, that Peach Blossom Island disciples rely on numbers to win, was not wrong.”

Feng Mofeng lowered his head in thought. After a moment he said, “Whoever insults my honoured shifu, I will fight to the death! If my four martial brothers Qu, Chen, Mei, and Lu were here, any one of them would surpass you. Setting aside Senior Brother Qu and Senior Brother Chen with their peerless skill, even Senior Sister Mei Chaofeng, though a woman, you could never have defeated her.”

Li Mochou laughed coldly. “Those people are dead, with no witnesses to confirm your words. What more is there to say? Old Heretic Huang’s skill is merely so-so. I had wanted to test my skills against his own daughter, Madam Guo, but if one example suffices to know the rest, there is no need.” She turned to leave.

A thought stirred in Yang Guo. “Wait!” he called. Li Mochou’s elegant brows lifted. “What?” Yang Guo said, “You claim the Master of Peach Blossom Island’s martial skill is nothing special, then you are mistaken. I once heard him describe a set of Jade Flute Swordplay¹³ that perfectly counters your whisk techniques.” He picked up an iron rod and began tracing diagrams on the ground, explaining as he went. “Look. Your frontal strike here, indeed swift and fierce, but his longsword cuts across from this angle, and you cannot recover in time. If you counter-strike, the sword attacks swiftly from here. If you aim a frontal acupoint strike with your whisk, he uses the Tiger Form Claw to seize your whisk’s tail, then reverses the sword hilt to counter-strike your Shoulder Well acupoint.¹⁴ Could you have anticipated this move?” This move was indeed unimaginable, yet exquisitely brilliant. The frontal acupoint strike was one of Li Mochou’s supreme whisk techniques. The move Yang Guo described neutralized it completely, leaving her no room to respond, only to drop her whisk and concede defeat.

Yang Guo continued demonstrating. “Now, regarding your Scarlet Serpent Palm: the Master of Peach Blossom Island keeps his fingernails long. He draws your palm aside like this, and when your palm strike arrives, he uses the Divine Flicking Finger¹⁵, his nail flicks against the centre of your palm. Would that palm not be crippled on the spot? He need only trim the nail immediately afterward, and your palm’s deadly poison cannot transfer to him.” He then described over ten more techniques by which Huang Yaoshi neutralized her martial arts.

Every word struck Li Mochou with reason and logic. Each technique he described was ingenious beyond measure and, she had to admit, beyond her ability to withstand.

Yang Guo added, “The Master of Peach Blossom Island was angered by your insolent words. As a grandmaster himself, he could not lower himself to deal with you personally, so he transmitted these techniques to me and ordered me to discipline you on his behalf. But I remembered that you and my shifu share the same school, you are my martial aunt.¹⁶ Today I merely tell you the Master of Peach Blossom Island’s prowess. The next time you encounter his disciples, best keep your distance.”

Li Mochou was silent for a long moment. Then she said, “Enough, enough!” She turned and left, vanishing behind the mountain in an instant, her speed of movement truly rare.

In truth, though Huang Yaoshi had indeed taught these techniques to Yang Guo, mastering them to the point of practical combat effectiveness would have required at least three more years of training. Yang Guo’s speech, without raising a hand, had intimidated her into heartfelt submission. From that day forward, she would never again dare utter a single word of disrespect toward Huang Yaoshi.

Lu Wushuang, who had lived so long under Li Mochou’s crushing authority that merely hearing her voice set her heart pounding, felt as though a great weight had been lifted. She clapped her hands and laughed. “Fool! What eloquence! You even scared my shifu away!”

Cheng Ying had observed that as Yang Guo described the techniques to Li Mochou, his gestures and movements had revealed that beneath the new robe she had sewn, he still wore that tattered old gown. It was clear that because Xiaolongnü¹⁷ had sewn that gown, he drew a sharp distinction between the close and the distant, never forgetting the old. A faint bitterness touched Cheng Ying’s heart, but she pretended not to notice.

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Yang Guo said softly to Cheng Ying, “Senior Sister Cheng, Li Mochou could not withstand Senior Brother Feng’s fierce, death-defying assault and withdrew when she saw the odds. But the next time you encounter her, if you are alone, you will still be in grave danger. Shall we practice the two skills our shifu transmitted?”

Cheng Ying nodded. The two went to the clearing beside the forge and studied Huang Yaoshi’s Divine Flicking Finger and Jade Flute Swordplay. The Divine Flicking Finger required long-term cultivation to develop finger strength reaching divine levels, it could not be used effectively in the short term. Cheng Ying already knew the method of practice. What Yang Guo relied on against the Scarlet Serpent Divine Palm were the lightning-fast, unfathomably varied techniques of the Jade Maiden Divine Palm,¹⁸ a secret art of the Ancient Tomb Sect that could not be taught to outsiders. So the two concentrated on Jade Flute Swordplay. Yang Guo demonstrated each of the wondrous techniques Huang Yaoshi had taught him, one by one, for Cheng Ying to analyze, playing the role of Li Mochou while Cheng Ying countered with the jade flute. He swung his belt to simulate the whisk, sweeping it forward. Cheng Ying, who possessed keen insight, suddenly turned and thrust her flute into Yang Guo’s lower back. She was using a fake flute made of hard bamboo. Yang Guo felt little real pain, but to please her he put on a show, leaping high with a cry of “Aiyo!” his face twisted in agony.

Lu Wushuang watched from the side, clapping and laughing. “Cousin, wonderful skill! Hit the fool again!” Cheng Ying smiled faintly. “You think it’s real? Brother Yang was letting me win.” Lu Wushuang said, “Fine, fine. The two of you keep playing your real-and-fake games here. Are you going to play at bowing to Heaven and Earth next?”¹⁹ Cheng Ying said, “Better let the little wife play that.” Lu Wushuang pursed her lips. “I think he’d rather play it with you.” Cheng Ying raised her bamboo flute to strike. Lu Wushuang stuck out her tongue and said, “I’ll go see how the Fool’s good big sister is doing.”

Just as she turned, the sound of shouting men and neighing horses came from beyond the mountain, faintly like thunder.

Yang Guo said, “I will go look.” He mounted his horse, rounded the mountain bend, and rode several li until he reached the main road. Dust filled the air, banners blotted out the sky, a vast column of Mongol soldiers was marching south, iron bows and long sabers stretching like ocean waves. Yang Guo had never seen an army on the march. The heart-stirring spectacle held him transfixed.

Two soldiers brandished their long sabers and shouted, “Hey there, barbarian! What are you staring at?” They charged toward him. Yang Guo wheeled his horse and fled. The two soldiers strung their bows and loosed arrows. whoosh, whoosh, aimed at his back. Yang Guo caught them in midair. He felt the arrows carried fierce, urgent force. Had he not possessed martial skill, they would have pierced straight through his chest. The two soldiers, seeing such ability, reined in their horses in fright and dared not pursue.

Yang Guo returned to the forge and described what he had seen. Feng Mofeng sighed. “The Mongol army is indeed moving south. Our Chinese common folk will suffer terribly!” Yang Guo said, “The Mongols’ mounted archery is truly beyond what Song soldiers can withstand. This calamity is no small matter.” Feng Mofeng said, “Young Master Yang is in the prime of life. Why not return south and join the army to resist the foreign invaders?” Yang Guo was taken aback. “No,” he said. “I must go north to find my aunt. The Mongol forces are so vast, what use could one man be?” Feng Mofeng shook his head. “One man’s strength may be small, but many men’s strength is great. If everyone thought as you do, who would be willing to resist the foreign invasion?”

Yang Guo felt his words were not wrong, but in this world, nothing could be more important than finding Xiaolongnü. Having drifted through the jianghu since childhood, he had suffered deeply at the hands of petty officials and minor functionaries. He felt that the Mongols were certainly brutal, but the Song court and its ministers were not necessarily good people either, they were not worth fighting for. He smiled faintly and did not pursue the subject.

Feng Mofeng bound his hammer, tongs, and bellows into a bundle and strapped it to his back. To Cheng Ying he said, “Shijie, when you see our honoured shifu in the future, tell his venerable self that disciple Feng Mofeng has not dared forget his teachings. Today I go to join the Mongol army. Even if it costs my life, I will assassinate one or two of the princes and generals who invade our rivers and mountains. Shijie, take care of yourself. To have met one of our shifu’s new disciples today. I am truly overjoyed.” With that, leaning on his iron crutch, he walked away without looking back, not casting a single glance at Yang Guo.

Yang Guo looked at Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang and said, “I never expected to meet such a remarkable man here.” Lu Wushuang, whose heart favoured Yang Guo, said, “Cousin, among your shifu’s disciples, apart from you, they are either foolish or mad.” Cheng Ying smiled and said calmly, “Senior Brother Feng is a loyal and righteous man. He has not forgotten our shifu’s kindness, he is a model for our generation. You call him mad, but perhaps he would say we have no feeling for home and country. Besides, am I not myself a little foolish, a little mad?” Yang Guo’s heart stirred at these words. He studied her expression, it was as composed as ever, and could not tell whether her words carried a double meaning.

Suddenly there was a crash. Shagu²⁰ had fallen off her stool. The three were alarmed and rushed to help her onto the kang.²¹ Her face was flushed deep red, her eyes staring straight ahead. They knew the poison of the Scarlet Serpent Divine Palm had flared up again. Cheng Ying administered medicine while Yang Guo pressed her acupoints to circulate her blood. Shagu stared at him blankly, her face full of terror. She cried out, “Brother Yang, don’t make me pay with my life! I didn’t harm you…” Cheng Ying said gently, “Sister, don’t be afraid. He isn’t…”

A thought flashed through Yang Guo’s mind: Her mind is confused right now, this is the perfect moment to force the truth from her. He seized her wrists and said fiercely, “Who killed me? If you won’t tell, I’ll make you pay with your life.” Shagu begged, “Brother Yang, it wasn’t me.” Yang Guo raged, “You won’t talk! Fine, I’ll strangle you.” He reached out and gripped her throat. Shagu screamed in terror. Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang, not understanding Yang Guo’s purpose, both cried out to stop him, one calling “Brother Yang,” the other “Fool,” one saying “Don’t frighten her,” the other “How can you play around at a time like this?”

Yang Guo paid them no heed. He tightened his grip slightly, his face taking on a demonic ferocity. Grinding his teeth, he said, “I am Brother Yang’s vengeful ghost. I died so miserably, do you know that?” Shagu said, “I know. After you died, the crows ate your flesh. Ah! Ah! Ah!” She imitated the cawing of crows.

Yang Guo felt as though a knife were twisting in his heart. He had known only that his father had died a violent death, he had never known that even the corpse had gone unburied, pecked at by crows. He shouted, “Who killed me? Speak! Speak!” Shagu’s voice was hoarse. “You went to hit Gugu²² yourself. Gugu had poison needles on her body, so you died.” Yang Guo roared, “Who is Gugu?” Shagu could barely breathe under his grip, on the verge of fainting. She whispered, “Gugu is Gugu.” Yang Guo said, “What is Gugu’s surname? What is her name?” Shagu said, “I… I don’t know! Let me go!”

Lu Wushuang saw how desperate the situation had become and tried to pull Yang Guo’s arm away. But Yang Guo was like a madman. With a fierce shove using his full strength, Lu Wushuang could not withstand it, she was thrown backward against the wall with a crash, in considerable pain. Cheng Ying, seeing Yang Guo, ordinarily so gentle and carefree, now like a raging tiger, was so frightened her limbs went weak.

Yang Guo thought, If I do not learn the name of my father’s killer today, I will immediately vomit blood and die. He pressed: “Is Gugu surnamed Qu? Is she surnamed Mei?” He guessed that since Shagu’s own surname was Qu, her Gugu was probably also surnamed Qu, perhaps it was Mei Chaofeng. Shagu struggled with all her might. Though she had trained far longer than Yang Guo, her martial skills were inferior, and with her wrist acupoints seized, she could only gasp and cry out in desperation. She said, “Go demand your life from Gugu. Don’t… don’t come after me.” Yang Guo said, “Where is Gugu?” Shagu said, “Grandpa and I came out! She and the man are on the island.”

At these words, an icy chill shot down Yang Guo’s spine. His voice trembling, he asked, “What does Gugu call your grandpa?” Shagu said, “She calls him Daddy. What else would she call him?” Yang Guo’s face turned the colour of earth. Afraid of a mistake, he pressed further: “Gugu’s man is named Guo Jing²³, isn’t he?” Shagu said, “I don’t know. Gugu just calls him: ‘Jing-gege, Jing-gege!’” She imitated Huang Rong²⁴’s tone when calling Guo Jing, kicking her legs wildly, then suddenly shrieked like a slaughtered pig: “Help! Help! Ghost… ghost… ghost!”

What doubt could Yang Guo possibly have now? The sorrows of his childhood, his orphaned loneliness, the bullying he had endured, all surged into his heart at once. He thought, If my father had not been murdered, my mother would not have died so young from grief and hardship, and I would never have suffered all these bitter trials. He thought further, On Peach Blossom Island, Guo Jing and his wife were always uneasy around me, somewhat polite, somewhat guarded, never as straightforward with me as they were with the Wu brothers, scolding when they wished, praising when they wished. At the time I only felt it was awkward. I never knew it was because they had killed my father and carried a guilty conscience. They refused to teach me martial arts and sent me to Quanzhen to endure such torment, all for this reason. Shock and fury flooded through him. His limbs went weak. Shagu let out a great cry and leaped up from the bed.

Cheng Ying came to Yang Guo’s side and said softly, “Sister Sha has always been muddled, you know this. Now that she is wounded, she is even more incoherent. Everything must be thought through carefully.” But in her heart, she too believed what Shagu had said was true, and she knew such comfort was useless. She simply could not bear to see the grief and fury etched across Yang Guo’s face.

Seeing Yang Guo still visibly agitated, his breathing ragged and urgent, Cheng Ying stepped closer and said, “Brother Yang, I have something to say to you.” Yang Guo turned and slowly steadied his breathing. “Please speak,” he said. Cheng Ying said, “Brother Yang, the enmity of a father’s death cannot coexist under the same heaven, naturally it must be avenged. I ask only one thing of you.” Yang Guo said, “Senior Sister Cheng, your kind advice I will certainly hear.” Cheng Ying said with solemn gravity, “Brother Yang, this time we are not jesting. I am speaking in earnest.” Yang Guo wiped away the faint trace of a smile from his face and said, “Little sister, you have always treated me so well. My careless way of calling you ‘Senior Sister’ and ‘Gugu’, it was all in jest.” He seized the moment to prevent Cheng Ying from misunderstanding. With utter seriousness he said, “In my heart, I truly regard you as my little sister! My feelings for you are sincere. But my life. I gave it to my Gugu long ago. I cannot give it to you. Other than that, I will heed you in everything.” Cheng Ying said, “Brother Yang, thank you.” She extended her right palm, facing upward. Yang Guo lightly struck her palm with his, then turned his own palm upward. Cheng Ying struck his palm lightly in return, then turned her palm over. Yang Guo struck her palm once more. This was the “Three Palm Strikes”, in Song custom, it signified the swearing of an oath. After the Three Palm Strikes, whatever was said and promised could never be taken back.

Cheng Ying said, “My foolish shijie is simple and honest. Her words are certainly not false. But her mind is unclear, and some matters are terribly tangled, she may well have gotten things wrong. I do not ask you not to seek revenge. I ask only that before you act, you think three times, and consider the words I now speak. Could you have found the wrong enemy? If you have found the wrong person, what then? I ask only that you promise me: when the moment comes to strike, you must think it through with absolute clarity. Once that hand moves, there can be no turning back.” Yang Guo said, “Little sister, you speak these words for my sake, truly golden counsel, precious as jade. I will engrave them on my heart and never violate them.”

Cheng Ying said, “Brother Yang, take care of yourself in all things. The great matter of revenge, ten years is not too late. You need not contend for a single morning or evening. Wait ten years, and your martial skills will have grown by ten years, while your enemy will have aged by ten years. If you cannot avenge yourself this year, in ten years, in twenty years, it will be easier! By then, he will have waned and you will have waxed. We must seek certain victory, and above all we must not find the wrong enemy. Guard against error. Restrain haste.” Yang Guo nodded. “Right! Right! My little sister is truly wise.” He extended his arms and gave her a light, airy embrace. Cheng Ying’s face suddenly flushed deep red, her eyes filled with tenderness.

Yang Guo stood stunned for a long moment, then waved and strode out the door. He mounted his lean horse and clamped his legs tight. The horse shot forward, and in an instant he was dozens of zhang away. He rode at a furious gallop, covering dozens of li in just over an hour. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain on his lips. He reached up to touch them, his hand came away covered in blood. In his grief and fury, he had bitten through both his upper and lower lips. He thought, Auntie Guo never treated me well to begin with. That she suddenly became kind to me recently, it was all false benevolence, nothing more. But Uncle Guo… Uncle Guo… In his heart, he had always revered Guo Jing beyond measure, believing his virtue and martial skill to be transcendent, his treatment of himself utterly sincere. Only now did he realize he had been profoundly deceived. He felt this man’s treachery surpassed even Huang Rong’s.

At the peak of his grief, he dismounted and sat in the middle of the road, buried his face in his hands, and wept bitterly. He had never once seen his father’s face. Even his mother had never spoken a word of his father’s affairs. But since childhood, in his imagination, in his tiny heart, he had pictured his father as perfect in every way, there could be no finer man in the world. Such a hero, such a noble man, had been murdered by Guo Jing and Huang Rong, and died so wretchedly.

He wept for a time, then suddenly heard the sound of hoofbeats. Four horses approached from the north, carrying Mongol warriors. The lead rider held a long spear, and impaled upon its head was an infant, no more than two or three years old. He came galloping with a great laugh. The baby was not yet dead. Faint cries still came from its tiny mouth. The four Mongol warriors saw Yang Guo sitting in the road weeping and were slightly puzzled, but such ragged Han youths were everywhere and not worth noticing. One shouted, “Make way! Make way!” He thrust his spear at Yang Guo.

Yang Guo, deep in anguish, seized the spearhead and yanked. The warrior was pulled from his horse. Yang Guo reversed the spear and swept it sideways, the warrior flew over a zhang away, his skull shattered, dead. The remaining three, seeing such divine prowess, cried out in unison and wheeled their horses to flee. There was a soft thud, the infant had fallen onto the road.

Yang Guo picked up the child. It was a Han baby, plump and fair, utterly adorable. The spear had pierced its belly, death was certain, though it had not yet come. The tiny mouth was still mouthing “Mama, Mama.” In his own grief, Yang Guo’s compassion swelled. Holding the half-dead child, tears streamed down his face once more. Seeing the infant’s unbearable suffering, he ended its life with a light palm strike. He used the Mongol warrior’s spear to dig a hole in the earth, intending to bury it.

He had dug barely a dozen times when the thunder of hoofbeats and the blast of horns announced a great column of Mongol cavalry charging toward him. Yang Guo held the dead infant in his left arm and raised the spear in his right, mounting his horse. The lean horse was a battle-tested veteran. Seeing the war formation, its spirit surged. With a long neigh, it charged at the Mongol soldiers. Yang Guo’s spear rose and fell, he skewered three or four men in rapid succession. But enemy soldiers poured toward him in countless numbers. He wheeled his horse and fled into the wilderness. Arrows came at his back like a cloud of locusts. He deflected them one by one with his spear. The lean horse was remarkably swift and soon left the pursuers far behind, yet it kept running, galloping wildly through the barren land.

After another stretch, Yang Guo saw the sky darkening. He reined in and gazed around. In all directions, wild grass rose past the ankles, strange rocks loomed menacingly, and the evening haze spread vast and indistinct. There was perfect silence, not a human voice, not even a crow or a sparrow.

He dismounted, still holding the dead infant. Its face looked as though it were merely sleeping, but its expression was twisted in agony. A bitter sorrow filled him. He thought, This child’s parents must have loved him as their very life. The child is dead now, beyond all feeling, but his parents’ hearts will be torn to shreds. These brutal Mongol soldiers are sweeping south, who knows how many adults and children they will kill along the way? The more he thought, the harder it was to bear. He dug a hole beside a large tree and buried the child. Then Shagu’s words came back to him. He thought, This child, dead, still had me to bury him. But my father, his body was fed to the crows. Ah, since you killed him, what harm would it have been to bury him in the earth? Your cruelty is truly vicious! If I do not avenge this wrong, I, Yang Guo, swear I am no man.

That night he slept in a large tree. The next morning he mounted his horse and let the lean horse wander at will through the desolate mountains and wild ridges. At times he thought of returning to the Ancient Tomb to see Xiaolongnü. At other times he felt that no matter what, he must first kill Guo Jing and Huang Rong to avenge his father. When hunger came, he picked wild fruit to fill his belly.

---

On the fourth day of travel, he suddenly saw someone in the distance leap high into the air and pluck fruit from a wild tree, the movements light and agile, his martial skill not weak. Yang Guo rode closer and saw it was Jinlun Guoshi’s disciple, Da’erba²⁵. Each time Da’erba leaped, he picked only a single fruit. Growing impatient, he stretched out his arm and struck the tree sideways several times. With a cracking sound, the wild fruit tree snapped in half. He gathered all the fruit and stuffed it into his robes.

Yang Guo thought, Could Jinlun Guoshi be nearby? He had never had any particular grudge against the National Preceptor. But now, convinced that Guo Jing and Huang Rong were his father’s murderers, he actually regretted having helped the Guo couple oppose the Preceptor before. He quietly followed behind Da’erba to see what was happening. Da’erba strode like the wind, heading straight into a mountain hollow. Yang Guo dismounted and followed on foot, keeping his distance. He watched Da’erba enter deeper and deeper woods, climbing higher and higher, until he reached a mountain peak.

At the summit stood a small thatched shelter, open to the winds on all sides. Jinlun Guoshi sat within, eyes closed and brows lowered, in meditation. Da’erba placed the wild fruit on the shelter floor. Turning, he suddenly saw Yang Guo approaching and his face went pale. He cried, “Eldest shixiong! Have you come to harm our shifu?” He rushed at Yang Guo and grabbed for his lapels. His martial skills were originally superior to Yang Guo’s, but at this moment his shifu was in a state of extreme peril, any external disturbance could cost his life instantly. In his panic, his mind scattered, and this move was completely disordered, violating the fundamental principles of martial arts. Yang Guo seized his hand, reversed it, and with a guiding push sent him tumbling away.

Da’erba was utterly convinced in his heart that Yang Guo was the reincarnation of his eldest shixiong. Being thrown to the ground only reinforced his awe. He rolled, scrambled up, and leaped before Yang Guo. Yang Guo thought he was about to attack again and stepped back. But Da’erba suddenly dropped to his knees and kowtowed, saying, “Eldest shixiong, you must remember the bond with our former-life shifu. Our master is gravely wounded and is circulating his energy to heal himself. If you disturb him, it could… it could…” By the end, his throat was choked and tears streamed down his face. Yang Guo did not understand his Mongolian speech, but seeing Da’erba’s intense emotion and the National Preceptor’s haggard appearance, he grasped most of the situation. He quickly helped Da’erba up and said, “I will not harm your honoured shifu.” Da’erba saw his kindly expression and, though he did not understand the words, his hostility dissolved.

Just then, Jinlun Guoshi opened his eyes. Seeing Yang Guo, he was badly startled. He had been deep in meditation, circulating his energy, and had not heard the exchange between Yang Guo and Da’erba. Suddenly finding his great enemy before him, he sighed deeply and said slowly, “I have practiced in vain for so many years, yet I can never break through the barrier of fame. I never imagined I would die here in the Central Plains.” The boulder had struck him and severely injured his internal organs. For days he had been camped on this desolate mountaintop, nursing his wounds. He had never expected Yang Guo to track him here. At this moment he could not exert the slightest force. Even if Da’erba drove Yang Guo away, the struggle would disturb his concentration and make recovery impossible.

But Yang Guo bowed with clasped hands and said, “I have come not as your enemy, Master. Please do not be troubled.” The National Preceptor shook his head and was about to speak when a fierce pain stabbed through his chest. He hurriedly closed his eyes and circulated his energy. Yang Guo entered the shelter, extended his right palm, and pressed it against the “Extreme Yang” acupoint²⁶ on the Preceptor’s back. This acupoint, located below the seventh vertebra, was a major point on the Governing Vessel. Da’erba, seeing this, went pale with shock and raised his fist to attack Yang Guo. Yang Guo shook his left palm and signaled with his eyes. Da’erba saw that his shifu’s expression was untroubled, even carrying a faint smile, and held his fist back.

Yang Guo’s cultivation was not deep, and he knew nothing of the Esoteric Sect’s inner arts. But he could faintly sense the flow of energy within the Preceptor’s body through his palm. He quietly channeled his own neili, sending a stream of warm energy upward to assist the Spirit Platform, Spirit Path, Body Pillar, and Pottery Path acupoints, and downward to assist the Sinew Contraction, Central Hub, Spine Center, and Suspended Pivot acupoints.²⁷ Doing all he could, he was only able to protect the Preceptor’s Governing Vessel. Da’erba, for all his martial strength, had trained only in outer arts and could not help his shifu heal. These past days, he had been able to do nothing but worry. Now, with no threat at his back, Jinlun Guoshi circulated his energy through the Conception Vessel, devoting his full concentration to healing the injuries in his chest and abdomen. In just over one shichen,²⁸ the pain had greatly diminished. Color returned to his face. He opened his eyes, nodded to Yang Guo in thanks, pressed his palms together, and said, “Layman Yang, why have you suddenly come to aid me?”

Yang Guo held nothing back. He told of how he had recently learned that Guo Jing and his wife had murdered his father, of his resolution to seek revenge, and of how he had unintentionally followed Da’erba up the mountain.

Jinlun Guoshi knew this youth to be exceedingly cunning, hard to believe even one sentence in ten. But today, when killing him would have been easier than turning over a hand, Yang Guo had instead helped him heal. He clearly harbored no enmity at all. The Preceptor said, “So the layman bears such a deep and bitter wrong. But Guo Jing and his wife possess profound martial learning. For Layman Yang to take this revenge. I fear it will not be easy.” Yang Guo was silent for a moment, then said, “Then let both generations of my family, father and son, die at their hands. So be it.” The Preceptor said, “At first I was arrogant, believing myself peerless under heaven, and thought that with my own strength alone I could overpower the heroes of the Central Plains and seize the position of Wulin Alliance Chief.²⁹ But the martial artists of the Central Plains pay no heed to the rules of single combat. When they all swarm at once, one must make other plans. After my wounds heal, I must invite many masters to aid me. Once our forces are formidable, the Central Plains fighters will be unable to rely on superior numbers. Then we can fairly determine victory or defeat. Would you be willing to join our side?”

Yang Guo was about to agree, but then he recalled the slaughter wrought by the Mongol soldiers and said, “I cannot aid the Mongols.” The National Preceptor shook his head. “You wish to ride alone and kill Guo Jing and his wife to avenge yourself? That will be doubly difficult.”

Yang Guo pondered for a long moment, then said, “Very well. I will help you seize the position of Wulin Alliance Chief, but you must help me take my revenge.” The National Preceptor extended his palm. “A great man’s word, one strike of the palm seals the oath.”³⁰ The two struck palms three times and formed their alliance. Yang Guo said, “I will only help you contend for the Alliance Chief position. If you aid the Mongols in conquering Jiangnan and slaughtering the common people, I will become your enemy.”

The National Preceptor laughed. “You are a Han man, that cannot be forced. Brother Yang, your martial arts are varied and numerous. I do not say this to flaunt my seniority, but absorbing widely from many schools is certainly excellent, yet it can also lead to being mixed without purity. What is your strongest discipline? What martial skill will you use against Guo Jing and his wife?”

These words left Yang Guo speechless, unable to answer. His life had been extraordinary, and his nature was one of insatiable acquisition: the Quanzhen school, Ouyang Feng³¹’s arts, the Ancient Tomb school, the Nine Yin Manual, Hong Qigong³²’s techniques, Huang Yaoshi’s, he had studied a considerable number of martial disciplines. Yet he had merely scratched the surface of each, never delving deep. Each of these arts was unfathomably profound. Even devoting a lifetime of intellect and energy to a single one, one could hardly hope to reach its farthest shores. He had plucked a scale here, seized half a claw there, but in not a single discipline had he reached a truly first-class level. Against secondary opponents, his display was dazzling in its variety, dazzling to the eye. But against the supreme masters, he could not help falling short. Even compared to the National Preceptor’s own disciples, Da’erba and Huodu, he was still lacking. He lowered his head in deep contemplation, feeling that the National Preceptor’s words were truly a blow to the head, a shout of awakening, they had struck precisely at the fundamental flaw in his martial studies.

His thoughts turned further: I have already resolved to marry Gugu as my wife, yet why do I keep leaving traces of affection everywhere? Sister Cheng, the little wife, and even Wanyan Ping³³. If I feel no true love for them, why can I not behave properly? This is truly biting off more than I can chew. He thought further, Whether Hong Qigong, Huang Yaoshi, my godfather Ouyang Feng, Uncle Guo, Jinlun Guoshi, or even the Seven Masters of Quanzhen, all who have achieved fame and distinction have devoted themselves purely to their own school’s arts. They are not ignorant of other schools, but they merely understand their principles without practising them. So which school should I devote myself to? In sentiment and in reason, he ought to specialize in the Ancient Tomb Sect’s Jade Maiden Heart Sutra.³⁴ But when he thought of Hong Qigong’s Dog-Beating Staff Technique³⁵, so profoundly wondrous, and Huang Yaoshi’s Jade Flute Swordplay, so exquisitely subtle, to set them aside, would that not be a waste? And his godfather’s Toad Skill,³⁶ the Reverse Meridian Circulation, the various techniques of the Nine Yin Manual, any one of them could make one’s name resound across the world. Having gone to such lengths to learn them, how could he abandon them like cast-off remnants?

He walked out of the shelter and paced the mountaintop with his hands behind his back, deep in anguished thought. After a long while, a thought suddenly stirred: Why not take the strengths of each school and create my own? All martial arts under heaven were created by people. If others could create them, can I not? At this thought, a great light seemed to illuminate everything before him.

From the chen hour³⁷ to the afternoon, and from the afternoon through deep contemplation until late at night, he neither ate nor drank upon that peak. All the exquisite martial arts he had witnessed in his life surged back and forth through his mind, clashing and contending with one another. He had seen Hong Qigong and Ouyang Feng duel through spoken description, and he himself had driven off Li Mochou through speech and gesture alone. Now, in his mind, the martial arts of every school vied for supremacy, far more rapid and intense than any spoken description. Eventually, he could not help but begin to move, punching and kicking, performing the techniques. At first he could still distinguish this move as learned from Hong Qigong, that move from Ouyang Feng. But as time passed, they became hopelessly tangled, his mind a twisted knot of tangled silk. He could no longer sustain it. He fell backward, sprawled upon the ground, and lost consciousness.

Da’erba had watched from a distance as Yang Guo seemed to go mad, gesticulating wildly. He had no idea what was happening. When he suddenly saw Yang Guo collapse, he was badly alarmed and moved to help. Jinlun Guoshi laughed. “Do not go disturb his thoughts. It is only a pity your intellect is too mediocre to understand the principles at work here.”

Yang Guo slept half the night, then rose early the next morning and resumed his contemplation. Over seven days, he lost consciousness five times. To speak of synthesizing the various schools and creating his own, how could that be easy? With his current level of understanding and cultivation, it was absolutely impossible to succeed, and certainly not a matter of ten days or half a month. But after thinking continuously for several days, he suddenly had a flash of insight. He understood that all martial arts could be used by him. Since they could not be merged into one, there was no need to force it. In future combat, he would use whatever was appropriate, apply whatever suited the moment, without needing to consider its origin or lineage, and that would already be little different from founding his own school. Having grasped this point, his heart was immediately at ease.

By now, Jinlun Guoshi had spent several days circulating energy to heal himself, sometimes aided by Yang Guo. His injuries were eighty to ninety percent healed, and he could move about normally. This day, seeing Yang Guo’s expression suddenly calm and composed, with an air of complete confidence, he knew the youth had advanced another level in the way of martial arts. He said, “Brother Yang, let me take you to meet someone. This man possesses heroic talent and grand vision, broad-minded and magnanimous. I guarantee you will be impressed.” Yang Guo asked, “Who is it?” The National Preceptor said, “The Mongol prince Kublai Khan. He is the grandson of Genghis Khan, the fourth son of Prince Tolui.”

Yang Guo, having witnessed the Mongol soldiers’ savage brutality, felt deep loathing for the Mongols. He frowned and said, “I am anxious to avenge my father’s death. There is no need to meet this Mongol prince.” The National Preceptor laughed. “I have promised to aid you, how could I break faith? But I was assigned by the Empress Dowager to serve under Prince Kublai in the lands south of the Gobi. I must report to him. His royal tent is not far, a day’s journey.” Yang Guo had no choice. He knew he was absolutely no match for Guo Jing and Huang Rong, whether in cunning or in martial skill, the gap was immeasurable. Without Jinlun Guoshi’s aid, this revenge could never be taken. He had no choice but to accompany him.

---

Jinlun Guoshi had been invested as the Mongol Empire’s First National Preceptor, and the Mongol soldiers and officers held him in the highest reverence. The moment they saw him approach, word was sent to the prince. The Mongols had lived in tents for generations. Even when entering cities, they were unaccustomed to palace buildings, so Kublai too resided in a military tent.

The National Preceptor led Yang Guo by the hand into the royal tent. Yang Guo saw that this tent was more than twice the size of an ordinary Mongol tent, yet its furnishings were remarkably simple. A young man, bareheaded and dressed in plain cloth, sat reading a book. Seeing the two enter, he quickly rose from his seat to welcome them, saying with a warm smile, “I have not seen the National Preceptor for many days and have thought of you often.” Jinlun Guoshi said, “My prince, allow me to introduce a young hero. This Brother Yang, though young in years, is a remarkable man of outstanding talent.”

Yang Guo had imagined that Kublai Khan, grandson of Genghis Khan, would be either magnificently noble and imposing or fiercely martial and stern. To find instead a young man who spoke Chinese, humble and amiable, surprised him greatly.

Kublai gave Yang Guo a brief appraising look, then took the National Preceptor’s hand with his left and called to his attendants, “Bring wine! I must drink a bowl with this brother.” Attendants brought three great cups and filled them with Mongol mare’s-milk wine. Kublai drained his in one draught, and the National Preceptor did the same. Yang Guo rarely drank, but seeing the host’s complete lack of ceremony, he could hardly refuse. He raised his cup and drained it too. The wine was fiercely pungent, with a sour tang. Kublai laughed. “Little brother, is this wine to your liking?”

Yang Guo said, “This wine is pungent, spicy, sour, and harsh, it enters the mouth like a blade. The flavor is not pleasant, but it is the true character of a man among men.”

Kublai was overjoyed and called repeatedly for more wine. The three each downed three great cups. Yang Guo, relying on his profound neili, drank without the slightest change in expression. Kublai said delightedly, “National Preceptor, where did you find such a fine talent? This is truly a blessing for our Great Mongol nation.” The National Preceptor then gave a brief account of Yang Guo’s experiences, elevating his status considerably in the telling, hinting that he was a major figure in the Central Plains jianghu. He did not conceal the fact that his own bid for Wulin Alliance Chief had been thwarted by Yang Guo’s interference. With such praise, Yang Guo could not help feeling a slight swelling of pride.

Kublai had been ordered to conquer the Song realm southward. Having spent long in the Central Plains, he admired Han culture and daily kept company with Confucian scholars, reading the classics and studying the texts.³⁸ He had also widely recruited martial arts experts, cultivated guests and retainers, and planned the southern campaign against the Song. Another man, seeing Yang Guo so young, would have found him hard to believe. But Kublai possessed surpassing intellect and a magnanimous spirit, and he trusted Jinlun Guoshi without reservation. Overjoyed, he immediately ordered a grand feast prepared.

Before long, the feast was laid out, wine and meat covered the tables, Mongolian and Han dishes in equal measure. Kublai said to his attendants, “Invite the heroes of the Recruitment Hall to join us.” The attendants left the tent. Kublai said, “These past few days, several more guests have arrived at the Recruitment Hall, each possessing unique abilities. They are truly a blessing for the nation, though none can match the National Preceptor and Master Yang in possessing both civil and martial perfection.”

As they spoke, the attendants announced the guests’ arrival. The tent flaps opened and four men walked in. The first was tall and gaunt, his face bloodless, his form like a walking corpse. Kublai introduced him to the National Preceptor and Yang Guo as Xiao Xiangzi, a renowned master from western Hunan.³⁹ The second man was short and dark. Nimoxing, an expert from India. The two behind him: one stood eight chi⁴⁰ tall, thick-limbed, with a foolish grin and vacant eyes. The other had a high nose and deep-set eyes, curly hair and a yellow beard, a westerner, though dressed in Han clothing, with bright pearls at his neck and jade bracelets at his wrists, glittering with jeweled brilliance. Kublai introduced them in turn: the giant was a man from the Muslim regions named Ma Guangzuo⁴¹. The westerner was a Persian merchant of great wealth. His family had traded jewels for three generations in Bianliang, Chang’an, and Taiyuan. He had taken the Chinese name Yin Kexi⁴².

Nimoxing and Xiao Xiangzi, hearing Jinlun Guoshi called “the Mongol Empire’s First National Preceptor,” studied him coldly from head to toe, their faces showing unconcealed disdain. Seeing Yang Guo so young, they assumed he was merely the National Preceptor’s disciple or grand-disciple and paid him even less mind. After three rounds of wine, Nimoxing could contain himself no longer. He said, “My prince, the Great Mongol land is very very big. This big monk is the First National Preceptor, his martial skill must be very very great. We wish to see it.” Kublai smiled and said nothing. Xiao Xiangzi added, “This Brother Nimoxing comes from India. We have always heard that the martial arts of Tibet and Mongolia were transmitted from India. Can there truly be such a thing as the pupil surpassing the master? I find it somewhat hard to believe.”

Jinlun Guoshi saw the fierce gleam in Nimoxing’s eyes and the faint bluish tinge underlying Xiao Xiangzi’s complexion. He knew both possessed deep neili. As for Yin Kexi, grinning and chattering, straining to project a vulgar mercantile air, he thought of the Han saying: A good merchant hides his wealth as though he had none. The more this man feigned ineptitude, the deeper his foundations might be. He could not be underestimated. The giant Ma Guangzuo, however, required no concern. The National Preceptor smiled faintly and said, “This old monk’s investiture as National Preceptor was the gracious favour of the Empress Dowager, the Great Khan, and His Highness the Fourth Prince. This old monk is truly unworthy of it.”

Xiao Xiangzi said, “Then you ought to yield the position to a worthier man.” He glanced sidelong at Nimoxing, a cold smirk at the corner of his mouth.

The National Preceptor extended his chopsticks and picked up a large piece of beef. He laughed. “This piece of beef is the fattest and largest on the platter. This old monk had no particular desire to eat it, but I happened to stretch out my chopsticks and happened to pick it up. In the Buddha’s teaching, this is called affinity.⁴³ If any of you gentlemen are interested, you are welcome to take it.” He held his chopsticks poised above the platter, waiting for someone to make a move.

Ma Guangzuo did not understand that Jinlun Guoshi was speaking in veiled terms, the fatty beef representing the high position of Mongol First National Preceptor. Seeing him holding the beef as an offering, Ma Guangzuo immediately stretched out his chopsticks to take it. Just as his chopstick tips were about to touch the meat, one of the National Preceptor’s chopsticks suddenly darted sideways and lightly tapped his. Ma Guangzuo felt a violent jolt shoot through his arm. Unable to maintain his grip, his chopsticks clattered onto the table. The National Preceptor’s chopsticks released the beef, but before the meat could touch the table, his chopsticks had already snapped back and caught it. Everyone stared at one another in shock. Ma Guangzuo still had not understood. He picked up his chopsticks and gripped them tightly with all five fingers, thinking, This time you won’t be able to knock them away. He stretched out his chopsticks to take the meat again. Once more, the National Preceptor’s chopstick darted sideways. This time Ma Guangzuo’s grip was iron-tight, indeed the chopsticks were not knocked away. But there was a soft crack, and the chopsticks snapped into four pieces as though sliced by a blade, two halves falling onto the table.

Ma Guangzuo flew into a rage. With a great roar, he lunged at the National Preceptor to grapple. Kublai laughed. “Valiant Ma, no need for anger. If you wish to compete, it can wait until after the meal.” Ma Guangzuo, in awe of the prince, returned to his seat resentfully. He pointed at the National Preceptor and bellowed, “What sorcery did you use to break my eating tools?” The National Preceptor merely smiled, his chopsticks still holding the beef before him.

Nimoxing had also initially dismissed Jinlun Guoshi. But having witnessed the depth of his neili, he no longer dared underestimate him. He was Indian and did not eat with chopsticks, only with his hands. He said, “Fat beef, the big man cannot grab it. I want to eat it.” Suddenly his five fingers became like iron claws and shot toward the meat. The National Preceptor darted out the chopstick in his right hand, quivering several times with lightning speed, striking at five acupoints on Nimoxing’s hand: the centre of the palm, the wrist, the back of the hand, the tiger’s mouth, and the tip of the middle finger. Nimoxing flipped his palm with a whoosh, chopping at the National Preceptor’s wrist. The National Preceptor’s arm did not move. He inverted the chopstick and quivered it several more times. Nimoxing suddenly felt the chopstick tip touch his tiger’s mouth and hastily pulled back. The National Preceptor’s chopstick swung back and still held the beef. His acupoint-striking with the chopstick was swift beyond compare, several quivers and back, and the beef still had not fallen.

Yang Guo and the others saw it clearly. In that instant, the two had exchanged several moves. The National Preceptor’s chopstick thrusts were certainly fast, but Nimoxing’s ability to pull back and evade in that hair’s-breadth moment showed his martial skill was truly formidable. Xiao Xiangzi said darkly, “Fine skill!” Kublai knew they were testing each other with high-level martial arts, but what techniques they were using he could not discern. Ma Guangzuo stared with his copper-bell eyes, looking at one, then glaring at the other, completely baffled.

Yin Kexi said with a broad grin, “Everyone is far too polite! Pushing and yielding, you won’t eat and I won’t eat, the food is getting cold.” He stretched out his chopsticks with deliberate slowness. The jadeite bracelet and gold-inlaid jade bracelet on his wrist clinked and jangled against each other. Before his chopstick tips touched the beef, the National Preceptor’s chopsticks were already faintly vibrating from his neili. Yin Kexi had seized the initiative, using neili to prevent the National Preceptor from extending his chopsticks. The National Preceptor simply pushed his chopsticks forward, letting him clamp down, then transmitted force through the chopsticks toward Yin Kexi’s arm. Yin Kexi hastily countered with his own energy. But the National Preceptor’s neili erupted and withdrew in an instant. The beef, which Yin Kexi had already taken, was propelled back by his own returning force onto the National Preceptor’s chopsticks. The National Preceptor laughed. “Brother Yin insists on yielding, truly too polite.” This was victory through cunning. Yin Kexi had fallen for the trick, but he had also tested that his opponent’s neili far surpassed his own. Fortunately, he had not been humiliated. He smiled faintly, turned his chopsticks to the platter and picked up a small piece of beef, saying, “All my life, what I love is only jewels, treasures, and wealth. Fatty beef I do not much care for, better to eat a small piece.” He put the meat in his mouth and chewed slowly.

Jinlun Guoshi thought, This Persian westerner has considerable bearing. He turned to Xiao Xiangzi and said, “Since the elder brother is so modest, this old monk can only help himself.” His chopsticks drew back half a chi. He guessed Xiao Xiangzi’s neili was not weak and dared not be careless. Drawing the chopsticks back half a chi meant that when he emitted neili, he was half a chi closer, while his opponent was half a chi farther. Xiao Xiangzi gave a cold laugh. His chopsticks rose slowly, then suddenly shot out and seized the beef. Borrowing the momentum, he pulled it back, and actually dragged it back half a chi.

Jinlun Guoshi had not expected such speed. He hastily exerted force to pull it back, and the beef began to move back toward him, inch by inch. Xiao Xiangzi rose to his feet, his left hand bracing against the table. The table groaned and creaked, but he could not stop the beef’s advance toward the National Preceptor. Jinlun Guoshi’s expression remained utterly relaxed. Beads of sweat appeared on Xiao Xiangzi’s forehead. The balance of strength was clear.

Suddenly, from the distance, someone shouted: “Guo Jing! Brother Guo, where are you? Come out! Guo Jing! Hey, the fellow surnamed Guo!” The voice came first from the east, but in a flash it sounded from the west. East and west were roughly a li apart, it seemed as though one person finished shouting and a second took over, yet the voice was a single person’s. Moreover, it continued unbroken from east to west. The speed of this person’s movement and the neili in the voice were rarely seen in this world.

As everyone stared at each other in shock, Xiao Xiangzi released his chopsticks and slumped back into his seat. Jinlun Guoshi laughed heartily. “I concede, I concede!” Just as he was about to put the beef in his mouth, the tent flap billowed. A figure flashed in, and someone snatched the fatty beef from the National Preceptor’s chopsticks, bit off half, and began chewing noisily.

Everyone leaped to their feet in alarm. They saw an old man with white hair and a white beard, his face glowing red, beaming with delight. He sat down on the felt rug inside the tent, parted his white beard with his left hand, and stuffed the remaining half of beef into his mouth with his right, chewing with loud, satisfied sounds.

The guards at the tent entrance, having failed to stop the white-bearded old man, bellowed, “Seize the assassin!” Four long spears thrust at his chest simultaneously. The old man stretched out his left hand and seized all four spearheads at once. To Yang Guo he said, “Little brother, bring more beef. I am terribly hungry.” The four Mongol guards pushed forward with all their might but could not move him a fraction of an inch. They then pulled back with all their strength, but their faces turned crimson with effort, the four spears seemed fused into a mountain of iron. They could not withdraw them even half an inch.

Yang Guo, amused, picked up the platter of beef from the table and sent it flying flat toward him. “Please, help yourself!”

The old man caught the platter with his right hand and held it before his chest. Suddenly a piece of beef leaped up from the platter and flew into his mouth as though alive. Kublai, delighted, thought it was a magic trick and applauded. But Jinlun Guoshi and the others knew the old man was channeling force locally through his palm to make a single piece of beef jump up. An ordinary person, striking the platter from below, could indeed make the beef jump, but all the meat would fly up together, juices splattering everywhere. To make the pieces leap up one by one was absolutely impossible. This old man’s palm force had truly reached a realm where whatever he willed was effortlessly accomplished. Everyone at the feast knew they could not do it themselves, and all felt awe.

The old man chewed without pause. The moment he swallowed one piece of beef, another leaped up from the platter. In moments, he had eaten half the platter. When he had eaten his fill, he flicked his right hand lightly. The platter flew upward, traced an arc through the air, and sailed toward Yang Guo and Yin Kexi. The two, seeing his incredible skill, feared he had secretly applied strange force to the platter and dared not reach out to catch it. They quickly parted to either side. The platter flew level with the tabletop, struck a platter of roast lamb, and the lamb platter flew toward the old man. The beef platter spun several circles on the table and stopped. What he had used was “Taiji Force”⁴⁴, like the taiji diagram, cycling without end, continuous and unbroken. If the platter had been thrown in an open space, it would have circled around him. Emitting this type of force was not particularly difficult. Many illusionists and acrobats were skilled in this technique. What was difficult was controlling the force with such precision, the empty platter stopping, while another platter of food was delivered into his hands.

The old man laughed heartily, immensely pleased with himself. He exerted force through his palm, and once again pieces of roast lamb leaped up one by one into his mouth. The most wretched figures at this moment were the four Mongol guards. They could not pull back their spears no matter how they tried, yet they dared not let go. Mongol military law was harsh, abandoning one’s weapon on the battlefield was a capital offense. Moreover, the four bore the heavy responsibility of guarding the Fourth Prince. They could only exert every last ounce of strength in the contest.

The old man, seeing their helpless flailing, was overjoyed. Suddenly he shouted, “Change, change, change! Two will kowtow to me, two will fall flat on their backs! One, two, three!” The moment the word “three” left his mouth, his arm shuddered, and all four spears snapped simultaneously. The force he exerted through his five fingers went in different directions, pushing outward on two spears while pulling inward on the other two. There were cries of “Aiyo!”, indeed, two guards pitched forward as though kowtowing, while the other two fell sprawling on their backs. The old man clapped his hands and sang:

“Little baby, roll the silver ingot, Fall down hard, grow up tall!”

It was a nursery rhyme that adults sing to comfort children when they stumble.

Yin Kexi suddenly realized. He asked, “Could the elder be surnamed Zhou?” The old man laughed. “That’s right! Ha, you know me?” Yin Kexi rose and clasped his hands in salute. “So it is the Old Urchin Zhou Botong⁴⁵, Elder Zhou, who has arrived.” Xiao Xiangzi had long heard his name. Jinlun Guoshi and Nimoxing, however, did not know Zhou Botong’s reputation. But seeing his profound martial skill and his utterly mischievous, playful behavior, he truly lived up to the title “Old Urchin.” Everyone’s hostility immediately diminished, and smiles appeared on their faces.

Jinlun Guoshi said, “Forgive this old monk’s dull eyes for failing to recognize a senior of the jianghu. Please, take a seat. His Highness thirsts for talent. To meet such an exalted person today will surely bring him great joy.” Kublai clasped his hands. “Indeed. Master Zhou, please be seated.” Zhou Botong shook his head. “I’ve eaten my fill, no need for more. Where is Guo Jing? Is he here?” Yang Guo had heard Huang Yaoshi speak of Zhou Botong’s sworn brotherhood with Guo Jing. He said coldly, “Why are you looking for him?”

Zhou Botong had always been innocent and childlike at heart, and he loved the company of children above all. Seeing that Yang Guo was the youngest at the table, he immediately took a liking to him. And hearing Yang Guo address him directly as “you”, not “Elder Zhou” or “Master Zhou”, pleased him even more. He said, “Guo Jing is my sworn brother. Do you know him? He loved being around Mongols as a child, so whenever I see a Mongol tent, I poke my head in to look.” Yang Guo frowned. “What business do you have with Guo Jing?” Zhou Botong, guileless as always, had no thought of concealing anything. He answered offhand, “He sent word asking me to attend the Heroes’ Assembly. I travelled a long way, played a few games along the road, and arrived several days late, but they had already dispersed. So disappointing.” Yang Guo said, “Did they not leave a letter for you?”

Zhou Botong rolled his eyes. “Why do you keep interrogating me? Do you know Guo Jing or not?” Yang Guo said, “How could I not know him? His wife is named Huang Rong, right? Their daughter is named Guo Fu⁴⁶, right?” Zhou Botong clapped his hands and laughed. “Wrong, wrong! That girl Huang Rong is a little girl herself, how could she have a daughter?”

Yang Guo was startled, then understood. He asked, “How many years has it been since you last saw them?” Zhou Botong began counting on his fingers, bending each of his ten fingers twice. “Must be twenty years,” he said. Yang Guo laughed. “Exactly. After twenty years, is she still a little girl? Could she not have had children in those twenty years?”

Zhou Botong roared with laughter, his white beard fluttering. “You’re right, you’re right! That young couple, is their daughter pretty?” Yang Guo said, “The girl takes after Madam Guo more than Guo Jing. What do you think, pretty or not?” Zhou Botong chuckled. “That’s good, then. If a girl had thick brows and big eyes and a dark face like my brother Guo, she certainly wouldn’t be beautiful.” Yang Guo, knowing he now had no doubt, reinforced his belief by adding, “Huang Rong’s father, the Master of Peach Blossom Island, Huang Yaoshi. Brother Huang, is a good friend of mine. Do you know him?” Zhou Botong started. “You little rascal, how can you call Old Heretic Huang your brother? Who is your shifu?” Yang Guo said, “My master’s abilities are tremendous. If I told you, it might frighten you.” Zhou Botong laughed. “I don’t frighten that easily.” His right hand flicked, and the empty platter shot toward Yang Guo with a fierce howl, its force ferocious.

Yang Guo had long known Zhou Botong was the martial uncle of Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji, and the others. He also saw that when Zhou Botong threw, his arm did not bend inward, the force came purely from his fingers. It was the Quanzhen school’s technique. Yang Guo naturally had no fear of Quanzhen methods. He extended his left index finger and pressed against the bottom of the platter. The platter spun smoothly on his fingertip.

Zhou Botong was delighted, and Xiao Xiangzi, Yin Kexi, Nimoxing, and the others were all stirred. Xiao Xiangzi had initially dismissed Yang Guo as a ragged youth of tender years. Now he thought, Just the force with which that platter came flying. I would not dare reach out to catch it, let alone with a single finger. If one misjudged the incoming force by even a fraction, the wrist would snap. What is this youth’s background?

Zhou Botong called out several “Goods!” But he had also noticed that catching the platter on one finger was the Quanzhen school’s method. He asked, “Do you know Ma Yu and Qiu Chuji?” Yang Guo said, “Those two little ox-nosed brats, how could I not know them?”⁴⁷ Zhou Botong was overjoyed. He had no real grievance with Qiu Chuji and the others, but he had always felt their endless rules and prohibitions were far too restrictive, and in his heart he rather looked down on them. The people he most admired in his life, aside from his shixiong Wang Chongyang, were the unbridled, unconventional Nine-Fingered Divine Beggar Hong Qigong. And with Huang Yaoshi’s wickedness, Guo Jing’s stubborn simplicity, and Huang Rong’s cleverness, he felt a vague kinship of spirit. Hearing Yang Guo call Ma Yu and Qiu Chuji “little ox-nosed brats” struck exactly the right note. He asked further, “And Hao Datong, how is he?”

At the name “Hao Datong,” Yang Guo’s fury surged. He cursed, “That ox-nose is a wretched bastard. One day I’ll make him taste some real suffering.” Zhou Botong’s interest grew. He asked, “What kind of suffering will you make him taste?” Yang Guo said, “I’ll catch him, bind his hands and feet, and soak him in a manure vat for half a day.” Zhou Botong was thrilled. He whispered, “After you catch him, don’t rush to dunk him in the vat. Tell me first, and let me secretly watch the fun from the side.” He actually bore no ill will toward Hao Datong at all, it was simply his nature to love mischief. When others caused trouble and played pranks, it delighted him, and he had to join in. Yang Guo laughed. “Fine, I’ll remember that. But why do you need to watch secretly? Are you afraid of the Quanzhen ox-noses?” Zhou Botong sighed. “I am Hao Datong’s martial uncle! If he sees me, naturally he’ll cry for help. If I don’t save him, I’d lose face. But if I do save him, I won’t get to enjoy the show.”

Yang Guo thought to himself, This man’s martial skill is extremely strong, and his nature is simple and likable. I might as well befriend him. But he is still from Quanzhen, and Guo Jing’s sworn brother. A man who achieves great things does not fret over small details. I must find a way to eliminate him. Zhou Botong, of course, had no idea of the murderous thought that had arisen in Yang Guo’s heart. He asked again, “When are you going to catch Hao Datong?” Yang Guo said, “I’ll go right now. If you want to watch the fun, come with me. Better yet, help me catch him!”

Zhou Botong was delighted. He clapped his hands and rose to his feet. But suddenly his expression fell, and he sat back down. “Ah, no,” he said. “I have to go to Xiangyang.” Yang Guo said, “What’s so fun about Xiangyang? Better not go.” Zhou Botong said, “Brother Guo left a letter for me at the Lu Estate, saying the Mongol army is marching south and will certainly attack Xiangyang. He is leading the heroes of the Central Plains there to help defend the city and told me to lend my strength. I’ve been searching for him along the way with no luck. I can only chase him to Xiangyang.”

Kublai and Jinlun Guoshi exchanged a glance. Both thought, So the martial artists of the Central Plains are gathering in Xiangyang to help defend the city.

At that moment, a monk entered the tent, about forty years of age, with a refined, scholarly appearance, his manner and bearing like that of a man of letters. He walked to Kublai’s side, and the two whispered together for a moment. This monk was Han Chinese, his Dharma name Zicong, and he was Kublai’s chief strategist. His secular surname was Liu, his given name Kan, and he was also known as Liu Bingzhong. In his youth he had served as a clerk in the county office before leaving home to become a monk. He was profoundly learned and meticulous in judgment, and Kublai trusted him deeply. Having received reports from the guards that strange visitors had arrived in the prince’s tent, he had come at once.

Zhou Botong rubbed his belly and said, “Monk, step aside. I’m talking with this little brother. Hey, little brother, what’s your name?” Yang Guo said, “My surname is Yang, my given name Guo.” Zhou Botong said, “Who is your shifu?” Yang Guo said, “My master is a woman. She is beautiful beyond compare and her martial skill is transcendent, she forbids anyone from speaking her name.”

Zhou Botong shuddered. He thought, A woman whose beauty is beyond compare and whose martial skill is so high, who else could it be but my old flame Yinggu?⁴⁸ He immediately dared not ask further. He stood, brushed the dust from his sleeves, and at once the tent was filled with swirling dust. Zicong could not help sneezing twice. Zhou Botong was overjoyed and waved his sleeves even more vigorously. Suddenly he laughed loudly and cried, “I’m off!” His left hand flicked, and the four broken spearheads shot toward Xiao Xiangzi, Nimoxing, Yin Kexi, and Ma Guangzuo. The four spearheads screamed through the air with terrifying speed. The distance was short, in a flash they were before the four men’s faces.

Xiao Xiangzi and the others were alarmed. Seeing evasion was impossible, each exerted neili to catch them. But four hands reached out and all four caught empty air. With a loud thud, the four spearheads embedded themselves in the earth before each man’s feet. The force of the throw had erupted and withdrawn in the same instant, just as the spearheads reached the four men, they suddenly changed direction and plunged into the ground. Ma Guangzuo, being simple-minded, found it only amusing and laughed heartily, shouting, “White Beard, your magic tricks are endless!” But Xiao Xiangzi and the other two were deeply shaken and could not help changing colour. Each thought, If I had missed that catch and the spearhead had changed direction, if instead of plunging into the ground, it had driven into my abdomen, with the ferocious force of that throw, how could I have survived?

Zhou Botong, having succeeded in playing his trick on the four, was immensely pleased. His laughter continued without end. Reaching the tent entrance, a sudden childish impulse seized him. He struck the tent’s support pillar with his palm. With a crack, the pillar snapped, and the great ox-hide tent came crashing down, enveloping Kublai, Jinlun Guoshi, Yang Guo, and everyone else inside. Zhou Botong was overjoyed. He leaped onto the collapsed tent and ran back and forth across it, trampling everyone within. Jinlun Guoshi struck upward with his palm from inside the tent, the blow landed squarely on the sole of Zhou Botong’s foot. Zhou Botong felt a tremendous force surge up. Unable to withstand it, he flipped head over heels and landed outside, shouting, “Fun! Fun!” He strode away.

By the time the National Preceptor and the others had protected Kublai and crawled out, and the guards had frantically replaced the pillar and raised the tent, Zhou Botong was long gone. The National Preceptor and Xiao Xiangzi and the others all apologized to Kublai, ashamed at having failed to protect him and allowed His Highness to be disturbed. Kublai did not take it to heart at all. Instead, he praised Zhou Botong’s abilities without end, lamenting that such a remarkable man could not be recruited to his service. The National Preceptor and the others all wore expressions of shame.

Kublai said, “The Mongol army has attacked Xiangyang repeatedly but has never been able to take it. Now the heroes of the Central Plains are gathering to defend the city, and this Zhou Botong has gone to help them, this will be a troublesome matter. I wonder if any of you have wise counsel?” Yin Kexi said, “Zhou Botong’s martial arts may be strong, but we are not necessarily weaker than him. Let His Highness proceed with the siege. Soldiers against soldiers, generals against generals, the Central Plains may have its heroes, but the Western Regions have capable men as well.” Kublai said, “Your words are not wrong, but as the Han military texts say: ‘He who wins through calculation in the temple before battle has the greater advantage. More calculation means victory. Less calculation means defeat.’⁴⁹ Before advancing the army, we must have a complete strategy in mind.” Zicong said, “His Highness’s insight is most wise…”

Before he could finish, a shout came from outside the tent: “I said I’m not going, and I’m not going! Your soft invitations and hard demands, none of it works!” It was Zhou Botong, shouting and bellowing. No one knew why he had returned, or who he was talking to. Curiosity stirred in everyone, and they all wanted to go out and look. Kublai laughed. “Let us all go see. I wonder who the Old Urchin is causing trouble for now.”

---

Everyone stepped outside the tent. In the distance, Zhou Botong stood on an open stretch of ground to the west. Four people stood at the south, west, northwest, and north positions, forming an arc that surrounded him, leaving the east open. Zhou Botong waved his arms and shook his fists, shouting loudly: “Not going! Not going!” Yang Guo thought it strange. If he doesn’t want to go, who could force him? Why argue so loudly? He looked at the four people. All wore identical green robes of an ancient, peculiar cut, unlike contemporary attire. Three were middle-aged men, each wearing a tall hat. The one at the northwest was a young woman, a green silk sash fluttering in the wind at her waist.

The man at the north position spoke: “We certainly do not mean to make things difficult. But since you kicked over the pill furnace, broke the lingzhi, tore up the Daoist texts, and burned the sword chamber, we can only humbly request that you come in person to explain to our shifu. Otherwise, if our shifu places blame, we disciples cannot bear the responsibility.” Zhou Botong said with a mischievous grin, “Just say a wild old man passed by and accidentally caused some trouble. Won’t that do?” The man said, “You are absolutely determined not to come?” Zhou Botong shook his head.

The man pointed east and said, “Ah, yes, yes, here he comes.” Zhou Botong turned to look but saw no one. The man made a gesture. The four suddenly pulled open a large green fishing net and cast it over Zhou Botong’s head. The four’s teamwork was flawlessly practiced and bizarre beyond belief. Even with Zhou Botong’s divine martial skill, once the net covered him, he was instantly helpless. All that could be heard were his shouts and yells, calling for his parents. The four, carrying the net, wound him east and west, binding him up firmly and tightly. One man hoisted him onto his shoulders while the other three guarded with drawn swords, and they fled eastward.

Yang Guo had originally harbored thoughts of secretly harming Zhou Botong, but only because it would aid his revenge. That wicked thought had flashed through his mind and vanished in an instant. He had no grievance with the Old Urchin and found him innocently charming, he had even thought of befriending him. Seeing Zhou Botong captured, he thought, I must save him. He summoned his qinggong and gave chase, shouting, “Hey! Hey! Where are you taking him? Release him!”

Kublai gave a low command: “National Preceptor, this Master Zhou is a man of talent. It would be best to recruit him and prevent him from aiding the defense of Xiangyang, which would only strengthen the enemy.” The National Preceptor answered, “Yes. This humble monk will follow and see what happens, acting as circumstances dictate.” Nimoxing and the others also wished to go, and they all set off swiftly in pursuit.

They ran several li and caught up with Yang Guo at the edge of a stream. They saw the four green-robed figures carrying Zhou Botong aboard a boat. Two men worked the oars, rowing upstream. Yang Guo shouted, “This old gentleman is my friend! Release him at once!” Everyone pursued along the bank. After about a li, they spotted a small boat in the stream and boarded it. Ma Guangzuo, with his great strength, worked the oars, and in moments they had closed to within a few zhang. But the stream twisted and turned. After several bends, the boat ahead suddenly vanished.

Nimoxing leaped from the boat and scaled the cliff. In an instant, like an ape, he had climbed over ten zhang. He scanned the surroundings and saw that the green-robed figures’ small boat had entered an extremely narrow tributary to the west. The entrance to this tributary was hidden behind a large cluster of trees, without climbing high for a bird’s-eye view, one would never have guessed that such a hidden realm lay within this deep valley. He jumped back into the boat and indicated the direction. The group hastily reversed their boat and rowed back upstream, then entered through the gap in the trees. The stream was so narrow that the mountain rocks were barely three chi above the water’s surface. Everyone had to lie flat in the boat to pass through. They rowed on. On both sides, the mountain cliffs rose like walls. Looking up at the sky, only a thin line remained. The mountains were green, the water clear, the scenery was exquisitely serene. But all around was utter silence, and a faint sense of menace lurked beneath. After another three or four li, nine great boulders suddenly rose from the centre of the stream like a folding screen, blocking the boat’s path. Between the boulders were narrow gaps just wide enough for the stream water to flow through.

Ma Guangzuo was the first to cry out: “Disaster, disaster! This boat can’t go any further!” Xiao Xiangzi said darkly, “You have the strength of an ox, just lift the boat over.” Ma Guangzuo said angrily, “I don’t have that kind of strength, unless you, zombie, use your sorcery.”

Before the two began arguing, Jinlun Guoshi had already been pondering: How did that small boat get past these nine stone screens? Hearing them, he said, “No single person’s strength could lift this boat. But if the six of us combine our strength, it can be done. Brother Yang, Brother Yin, and I on one side. Brother Ni, Brother Xiao, and Brother Ma on the other. Shall we all exert force together?”

Everyone agreed. Following his division, the six took positions on either side, each finding a firm foothold on the mountain rocks. Fortunately, the stream was extremely narrow, standing on both banks, they could easily reach the boat. The National Preceptor called, “Lift!” The six exerted force simultaneously. Among them, only Yang Guo and Yin Kexi were relatively weak. The other four each possessed the strength of several men, and Ma Guangzuo was especially powerful. With a splash, the small boat left the water and cleared the stone screen formed by the nine great boulders.

Everyone leaped back into the boat and clapped and laughed together. These six had originally been scheming against one another, nursing considerable mutual hostility. But after this joint effort, they naturally felt somewhat closer.

Xiao Xiangzi said, “The martial skills of the six of us may not amount to much, but in the jianghu we can still be counted among the first-class masters. Six men combining their strength to lift a small boat is no great feat. But…” Nimoxing cut in, “Those four green-robed men and women, their martial arts are strange and messy. How did they lift a boat past the great rocks?” Five of the six had been silently wondering the same thing. Only Ma Guangzuo was still puzzling over what “strange and messy martial arts” meant. Nimoxing continued, “Their boat is small, their people… their people… four of them… also few. Four people able to… to do this, their strength is… is great.” Yin Kexi said, “The three men are one thing, but that delicate seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl could never have such ability. There must be some mechanism hidden in these great rocks that we cannot guess at for the moment.”

The National Preceptor smiled faintly and said, “One cannot judge people by their appearance. Take our Brother Yang here, so young, yet he bears supreme martial skills. If we had not seen it with our own eyes, who would believe it?” Yang Guo said modestly, “I am a late learner of little accomplishment, what is there to speak of? But the fact that those four green-robed people could bind Zhou Botong and carry him off shows they possess extraordinary abilities.” Though he spoke humbly, in his speech he was already addressing Xiao Xiangzi and the other first-class masters as equals. Everyone had seen him catch Zhou Botong’s flying platter with a single finger and no longer looked down on him. Hearing the reason in his words, they all began speculating.

Among the six, Yang Guo was the youngest. The National Preceptor had long been in Mongolia. Ma Guangzuo and Nimoxing had always been in the Western Regions. Xiao Xiangzi had cultivated in isolation in the wilderness and rarely interacted with outsiders. Only Yin Kexi had broad knowledge of the Central Plains jianghu’s sects, figures, and techniques, yet even he could not recall the slightest clue about these four green-robed men and women. As they talked, the boat reached the head of the stream. The six abandoned the boat, went ashore, and followed a small path deeper into the secluded valley.

---

There was only one mountain path, so there was no risk of going the wrong way. But the path grew higher and more rugged as they went. The sky gradually darkened, and still there was no sign of the four green-robed figures. Growing restless, they suddenly saw several fires burning in the distance. Everyone was overjoyed and thought, In this desolate mountain and barren valley, where there are fires there must be dwellings. Aside from those green-robed people, no ordinary person would live in such a precipitous place. They ran forward. Knowing they were entering dangerous territory, each remained on guard. But all of them had roamed the jianghu alone and survived many perils. Now six great masters were entering the mountains side by side, who under heaven could stop them? So while they maintained vigilance, they felt no fear.

Before long, they reached a flat open space at the mountain’s summit. An enormous bonfire blazed there. They walked several dozen zhang closer, and in the firelight they could see clearly: behind the bonfire stood a stone house.

Nimoxing shouted loudly, “Hey! Hey! Guests have come! Come out, quickly!” The stone house door slowly opened, and four people emerged, three men and one woman, the very same green-robed figures who had captured Zhou Botong that day. The four bowed in salute. The one on the right said, “Honoured guests have come from afar. We failed to welcome you properly and feel deep regret.” The National Preceptor said, “Not at all, not at all.” The man said, “Please, everyone, come in.”

Jinlun Guoshi and the five others entered the stone house. Inside, it was bare, aside from a few tables and chairs, there was no decoration at all. The four green-robed men and women followed them in and seated themselves in the host positions. The lead man said, “May I venture to ask the six honoured guests for their esteemed names?” Yin Kexi, the most skilled with words, smilingly announced the identities of the five, concluding, “My own name is Yin Kexi. I am a Persian westerner. My abilities, aside from eating, consist only of recognizing some pearls, jades, and treasures, nothing like these gentlemen here, each of whom bears unique and supreme arts.”

The green-robed man said, “Our humble dwelling is desolate and remote. Never before have outsiders visited. Today honoured guests have descended, what fortune could be greater? But may I ask the purpose of the six in coming?” Yin Kexi laughed. “We saw you four capture that Old Urchin Zhou Botong and bring him here. Our curiosity was stirred, so we came to take a look. Your honoured dwelling’s secluded elegance is an eye-opening delight, truly, this journey has not been in vain.”

The first green-robed man said, “So that troublemaking old man’s surname is Zhou? No wonder he’s called the Old Urchin.” He spoke with lingering resentment. The second green-robed man said, “Are you gentlemen travelling with him?” The National Preceptor interjected, “We only met him today as well, there is no particular friendship between us.” Yang Guo said, “He is my friend. Please release him.”

The first green-robed man said, “That Old Urchin burst into our valley and caused tremendous destruction, utterly without reason.” The National Preceptor asked, “What destruction did he cause? Was it truly as you said, tearing up books and setting fires?” The green-robed man said angrily, “Isn’t that so? This junior was ordered by our shifu to guard the pill furnace. I don’t know how that old man barged into the pill chamber and began babbling endlessly at me, wanting to tell stories, wanting me to gamble with him on somersaults, neither mad nor sane, just utterly bizarre. The furnace was at a critical stage. I could do nothing but ignore him, pretend not to hear. Then suddenly he kicked over the furnace and spilled an entire batch of pills. The ingredients for this furnace of pills are extremely rare, to gather them all again, who knows how many months and years it would take.” He was still seething with anger.

Yang Guo laughed. “And he blamed you for ignoring him, saying it was your fault, isn’t that right?” The green-robed young woman said, “Exactly right. I was in the lingzhi chamber and heard the great commotion in the pill chamber. I knew something had gone wrong and was about to go investigate when this strange old man slipped in and snapped a stalk of four-hundred-year-old lingzhi in two.” Yang Guo saw that the young woman was about seventeen or eighteen, her complexion delicate and crystalline white, her eyes clear and bright, a tiny black mole at the corner of her lips. She was quite beautiful. He said, “The Old Urchin truly was outrageous. A stalk of lingzhi that had grown for over four hundred years, that is certainly a rare and precious thing.” The young woman sighed. “My father had planned for us to share it on the day of his new marriage with my stepmother. Who could have known the Old Urchin would destroy it? My father’s fury was immense, but that goes without saying. And then the Old Urchin, after breaking the lingzhi, stuffed it into his robes and absolutely refused to return it, just laughing and laughing. I had never offended him. I don’t know why he came to make trouble for me for no reason at all.” Her eyes grew slightly red, and she seemed deeply wronged. Yang Guo thought, For the Old Urchin to bully this young lady without any cause, that is not right. He consoled her: “Later, I will help you demand it back from the old man.”

Yin Kexi said, “May I ask for your honoured father’s name? We have intruded without even knowing our host’s name, this is truly a breach of propriety.” The young woman hesitated and did not answer. The first green-robed man said, “Without the Valley Master’s permission, we cannot presume to tell you. We ask the honoured guests’ forgiveness.”

Yang Guo thought, These people live in seclusion in a desolate valley, their movements so secretive, naturally they would not reveal their identities to outsiders. He asked, “After the Old Urchin stole the lingzhi, what happened next?”

The third green-robed man said, “As if causing havoc in the pill chamber and lingzhi chamber weren’t enough, this fellow surnamed Zhou then burst into the library and grabbed a book to read. This junior, bound by duty, had no choice but to intervene and stop him. But he said, ‘These childish playthings, what’s so important about them?’ and in one breath tore up three Daoist texts. By then, Eldest Brother, Second Brother, and our shimei had all arrived. The four of us combined our strength, but we still couldn’t stop him.” The National Preceptor smiled faintly and said, “This Old Urchin has a bizarre temperament, but his martial skills are truly formidable, naturally, he was not easy to stop.”

The second green-robed man said, “He wreaked havoc in the pill chamber, the lingzhi chamber, and the library, but he still wasn’t satisfied, he had to go to the sword chamber too. The moment he stepped through the door, he flew into a rage, saying there were too many weapons… too many weapons in the sword chamber, hanging everywhere, and he had nearly been stabbed. He immediately set a fire and burned all the calligraphy and paintings on the walls. While we were busy putting out the fire, he seized the chance to escape. Once we thought it over, we knew this was disastrous, so we chased him out of the valley, captured him, and brought him back for the Valley Master to deal with.”

Yang Guo said, “I wonder how the Valley Master will handle this. I only hope he will not harm the old man’s life.” The third green-robed man said, “Our master’s new marriage is imminent, he will not lightly take a life. But if this old man continues spouting nonsense and says something offensive to our shifu, he will be courting his own destruction. He can blame no one else.”

Yin Kexi laughed. “I wonder why the Old Urchin deliberately came to make trouble for your honoured shifu? From what I’ve seen, although he is mischievous, his temper doesn’t seem bad.” The green-robed young woman said, “He said my father is so old, yet still marrying…” Her senior brother suddenly cut in: “That Old Urchin speaks foolish nonsense, what worth is there in taking it seriously? You honoured guests have come from far away and must be hungry. Allow us to serve a meal.” Ma Guangzuo bellowed, “Wonderful! Wonderful!” His face immediately lit up.

The four green-robed people went to the kitchen, brought out dishes, and soon laid out a meal. Four large platters: green were vegetables, white were beancurd and radish, yellow were bean sprouts, black were winter mushrooms, not a single dish of meat or fish.

From the age of three months, Ma Guangzuo had never eaten a meal without meat. Before him, these four great platters of vegetarian fare had not a trace of oil to be seen. His disappointment was immense. The first green-robed man said, “In our valley, we abstain entirely from meat and fish. We must ask the honoured guests’ forgiveness. Please, eat.” He produced a large porcelain vessel and filled each person’s bowl with clear, crystalline water. Ma Guangzuo thought, If there’s no meat, drinking several bowls of wine will do. He raised his bowl and gulped down two mouthfuls, it was tasteless and insipid. It was plain water. He roared, “The host is far too stingy, not even a bowl of wine!”

The first green-robed man said, “The use of wine is forbidden in the valley. This has been the ancestral rule for several hundred years. We must ask the honoured guests’ forgiveness.” The green-robed young woman said, “We have only seen the word ‘fine wine’ in books. What fine wine actually looks like, we have never seen. The books say wine can disorder the nature, it is probably not a good thing.”

The National Preceptor, Yin Kexi, and the others saw that these four green-robed men and women, though young, were so pedantic and rigid in their behavior. Moreover, from the moment they had met, not one of the four had shown the faintest trace of a smile. While not repulsive in appearance, they were truly tedious in speech. It was exactly as the saying goes: When the conversation is disagreeable, half a sentence is too much. No one spoke further. They lowered their heads and ate. The four green-robed figures withdrew and did not return.

When the meal was finished, Ma Guangzuo clamored to return that very night. But the other five, seeing the valley was filled with mystery at every turn, were stirred by curiosity and all wished to investigate further. The National Preceptor, moreover, was under Kublai’s orders to recruit Zhou Botong. He said, “Brother Ma, tomorrow we must still meet the Valley Master. How can we leave now?” Ma Guangzuo protested, “No wine, no meat. I couldn’t endure this kind of life for even half a day.” Xiao Xiangzi said stiffly, “Everyone says we’re not leaving, why are you the only one making noise?”

Ma Guangzuo had always secretly feared Xiao Xiangzi’s corpse-like appearance. Hearing this, he dared not make another sound.

That night the six slept in the stone house. On the floor were only a few straw mats. Everything in this valley was utterly contrary to normal human feeling, stricter and more tedious than even a temple. The monks in a temple, though they ate vegetarian fare, would never treat people with such icy coldness, never once showing a smile. Only Yang Guo, accustomed to the Ancient Tomb and to the frost-cold Xiaolongnü, was not the slightest bit bothered.

Nimoxing said angrily, “The Old Urchin, tearing down houses and setting fires, very very good!” At these words, Ma Guangzuo immediately felt a strong sense of agreement and loudly cheered. Nimoxing said, “Brother Jinlun, you are the head of us six. What do you say this Valley Master’s background is? Is he good or not good? Tomorrow, shall we be polite and courteous, or shall we beat him till the flowers fall… fall what water?”⁵⁰ The National Preceptor said, “This Valley Master’s background, like all of you, I find it hard to fathom. Tomorrow we shall act as circumstances dictate.” Yin Kexi said quietly, “Those four green-robed disciples have no weak martial skills. The valley surely contains even greater masters. Everyone must be extremely careful. The slightest carelessness, and all six of us could be trapped here, that would be dire indeed.”

Ma Guangzuo was still grumbling about how the food was impossible to swallow and did not catch a single word. Yang Guo said, “If you don’t listen to what people say, muddle-headed as you are, if tomorrow you’re careless and they capture you and lock you up for life, feeding you only plain water, white rice, greens, and beancurd every day, even the worms in your belly will die of anger…” Ma Guangzuo was badly startled. He said quickly, “Good brother, I’m listening, I’m listening.”

That night, in this dangerous place, no one slept soundly. Only Ma Guangzuo snored like thunder, sometimes shouting in his dreams: “Come, come! Bottoms up! This piece of beef is huge, nice and fatty!”

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Footnotes

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

2. 陆无双 – Lù Wúshuāng. Her name meaning “peerless” or “without equal”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 程英 – Chéng Yīng. Her name meaning “heroine” or “outstanding”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

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

6. 冯默风 – Féng Mòfēng. Huang Yaoshi’s sixth disciple, the Smith. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 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. ↩

8. 急来抱佛脚 – Clutch at Buddha’s feet only in desperation. Chinese idiom meaning to seek help only at the last moment, like someone who only prays to Buddha when disaster strikes. ↩

9. 金鸡独立 – Golden Rooster Stands Alone. Fundamental stance in Chinese martial arts, balancing on one leg with the other raised, named after the posture of a rooster. ↩

10. 赤练神掌 – Chìliàn Shénzhǎng. Li Mochou’s palm technique, infused with poison. Name links her palm strikes to her serpentine nickname, suggesting that her very touch is as deadly as a venomous snake’s bite. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 丈 – zhàng. Traditional Chinese unit of length, about 3.3 metres. Ten chi make one zhang. ↩

12. 内力 – nèilì. Literally internal force. Kinetic manifestation of cultivated qi. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

13. 玉箫剑法 – Yùxiāo Jiànfǎ. Huang Yaoshi’s sword technique, so named because he created it while playing the jade flute, merging music with swordsmanship. ↩

14. 肩贞穴 – Jiānzhēn Xué. Acupoint on the Small Intestine meridian, located at the back of the shoulder joint. ↩

15. 弹指神通 – Tánzhǐ Shéntōng. Huang Yaoshi’s signature finger technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

16. Shi Bo (师伯). Elder martial aunt; a respectful term for one’s master’s senior sister. ↩

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

18. 玉女神掌 – Yùnǚ Shénzhǎng. Palm technique of the Ancient Tomb Sect, characterized by lightning speed and unpredictable variations. ↩

19. 拜天地 – Bowing to Heaven and Earth. Central ritual of a traditional Chinese wedding, in which the couple bows to Heaven and Earth, to their parents, and to each other. Lu Wushuang is teasingly asking if they’re going to get married. ↩

20. 曲傻姑 – Qū Shǎgū. Daughter of Qu Lingfeng; mentally impaired but possesses formidable martial arts taught by Huang Yaoshi. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

21. 炕 – kàng. Traditional heated brick bed platform common in northern China, built with a flue system that channels heat from a cooking stove or fire underneath. ↩

22. 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. ↩

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

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

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

26. 至阳穴 – Zhìyáng Xué. Literally reaching yang. Acupoint on the back along the spine on the governing vessel meridian. See Wikipedia. ↩

27. Governing Vessel acupoints. Spirit Platform (灵台, Língtái), Spirit Path (神道, Shéndào), Body Pillar (身柱, Shēnzhù), Pottery Path (陶道, Táodào), Sinew Contraction (筋缩, Jīnsuō), Central Hub (中枢, Zhōngshū), Spine Center (脊中, Jǐzhōng), and Suspended Pivot (悬枢, Xuánshū) are all acupoints along the Governing Vessel (Du Mai), one of the Eight Extraordinary Meridians in traditional Chinese medicine and internal martial arts. ↩

28. 时辰 – shíchén. Traditional Chinese unit of time equal to two hours. Day was divided into twelve shichen, each named after one of the Earthly Branches. ↩

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

30. 击掌以誓 – Strike the palm to seal the oath. Traditional Chinese gesture of binding agreement, similar to a handshake but with ritual significance. Three strikes symbolize the unbreakable nature of the vow. ↩

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

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

33. 完颜萍 – Wányán Píng. Her name meaning “duckweed”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

35. 打狗棒法 – Dǎgǒu Bàngfǎ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

36. 蛤蟆功 – Hámá Gōng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

37. 辰时 – Chen* hour. Fifth of the twelve traditional Chinese hours, approximately 7:00—9:00 AM. ↩

38. Kublai Khan’s sinicization. Historically, Kublai Khan (1215—1294) actively sought out Han Chinese advisors and adopted many Chinese administrative practices. His chief strategist Liu Bingzhong (子聪/刘秉忠) was a Han Chinese Buddhist monk who played a crucial role in designing the Yuan Dynasty’s capital at Dadu (present-day Beijing) and shaping its governance. Kublai’s embrace of Chinese culture and governance methods was instrumental to his success in conquering and ruling China. ↩

39. 潇湘子 – Xiāoxiāng Zǐ. Literally Master of the Xiao and Xiang rivers. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

40. 尺 – chǐ. Traditional Chinese unit of length, about a third of a metre. Ten chi make one zhang. ↩

41. 马光佐 – Mǎ Guāngzuò. His name meaning “bright assistance”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

42. 尹克西 – Yǐn Kèxī. His name meaning “overcome the west”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

43. 缘法 – yuánfǎ. Buddhist concept referring to the karmic connections and conditions that bring beings and events together. ↩

44. 太极劲 – Tàijí Jìn. Type of neili based on the principles of taiji (the Supreme Ultimate), characterized by circular, continuous movement that neutralizes and redirects opposing force. Concept predates the formal Taijiquan style but embodies the same principles of yielding and redirection. ↩

45. 周伯通 – Zhōu Bótōng. His name meaning “elder who understands all”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

47. 牛鼻子 – niú bízi. Literally ox-nose, a derogatory term for Daoist priests, alluding to the topknot that resembles an ox’s nose. ↩

48. 瑛姑 – Yīnggū. Her name meaning “Jade Maiden”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

49. 庙算 – Miào Suàn. Concept from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, referring to the strategic planning done in the ancestral temple before a military campaign. Kublai’s quotation demonstrates his deep study of Chinese military classics. ↩

50. 落花流水 – luòhuā liúshuǐ. Chinese idiom literally meaning “fallen flowers carried away by flowing water,” used to describe a crushing defeat. ↩