The Valley of Severed Passions.

The next morning, Yang Guo¹ woke and stepped out of the stone hut. In the darkness the night before, he had not seen clearly. Now he found the surrounding vegetation a lush, dripping green, the flowers a riot of brocade. The scenery along the path had been fine, but this place was a spot of rare beauty. He strolled along at leisure. Beside the path, two or three cranes wandered at ease, white deer moved in herds, and squirrels and rabbits all went about unstartled by human presence.

After two bends in the path, the young woman in green was picking flowers by the wayside. Seeing him approach, she greeted him: “Sir, you rise early. Please take breakfast.” She plucked two blossoms from the tree and offered them to him.

Yang Guo accepted the flowers, inwardly puzzled. “Can flowers be eaten?” But he watched as the girl pulled petal after petal from the blooms and placed them in her mouth. He followed her example and ate a few petals. The taste upon entry was fragrant and sweet, like honey, with the faintest trace of wine’s intoxication. He felt his spirit lift and his heart expand. Yet after a few chews, a bitter, astringent flavour emerged. He thought to spit it out but found himself reluctant. He considered swallowing but found it hard to force down. Examining the flowering tree more closely, he saw the branches and leaves covered with small thorns. The petals were brilliantly, bewitchingly beautiful, more fragrant than roses, more vivid than camellias. He asked, “What flower is this? I have never seen it before.” The girl said, “It is called the passion flower.² They say it is rarely found in this world. Did you find it tasty?”

Yang Guo said, “The first taste is extremely sweet, but afterward it turns bitter. This flower is called the passion flower? The name is rather unusual.” He reached out to pluck another bloom. The girl said, “Be careful! There are thorns on the tree. Do not touch them!” Yang Guo avoided the sharp thorns on the branches, moving his hand with great caution. How could he have known that hidden behind the blossoms were even smaller thorns? His finger was pricked all the same. The girl said, “This valley is called the Valley of Severed Passions,³ yet so many passion flowers grow here.” Yang Guo said, “Why is it called the Valley of Severed Passions? The name is truly… truly extraordinary.” The girl shook her head. “I do not know the meaning either. It is a name handed down from our ancestors. Father might know its origin.”

Yang Guo said, “Passion cannot be severed. The valley is named ‘Severed Passions’, an attempt to cut away love and desire. Yet passion follows life. So long as there are people, there is passion. That is precisely why the Valley of Severed Passions is filled with passion flowers.” The girl rested her chin on her hand and thought for a moment. She said, “You explain it so well. How are you so clever?” The admiration in her words was utterly sincere. Yang Guo smiled. “Perhaps I am wrong.” The girl clapped her hands. “You must be right, you must be right. Nothing could be better said than that.”

The two of them spoke as they walked side by side. Yang Guo’s nose caught wave after wave of floral fragrance, and he saw white rabbits and young deer bounding along the path, endlessly endearing. An indescribable lightness filled his heart and spirit. Naturally, his thoughts turned to Xiaolongnü⁴. “If the one walking beside me were my Gugu⁵, I would truly wish to live here forever, never leaving this valley.” No sooner had this thought formed than the spot where the thorn had pricked his finger erupted in sharp pain. The wound was tiny, yet the agony was beyond bearing, as though someone had suddenly struck his chest with a great iron hammer. He could not suppress a cry of “Ah!” and quickly placed his finger in his mouth to suck it.

The girl said coolly, “You were thinking of the one in your heart, weren’t you?” Yang Guo, his innermost thoughts guessed, blushed and said in surprise, “Eh? How did you know?” The girl said, “If the body is pricked by a passion flower thorn, one must not entertain thoughts of longing for twelve shichen⁶.⁷ Otherwise the suffering is unbearable.” Greatly astonished, Yang Guo said, “Can there truly be such a strange thing under heaven?” The girl said, “My father says: Such is the nature of passion itself. Sweet upon entry to the mouth, bitter in the aftertaste, and covered all over with thorns. Even if you are ten thousand times careful, you cannot avoid being wounded by it. Most likely it is because this flower has such qualities that people gave it this name.” The day before, Yang Guo had agreed to help her deal with Zhou Botong⁸, and the girl had formed a favourable impression of him. Thus her manner of speaking was friendly, though still with an inescapable chill.

Yang Guo asked, “Then why is it that for twelve shichen one cannot… cannot… yearn or feel passion?” The girl said, “Father says the passion flower’s thorn carries a poison. Whenever a person stirs with thoughts of love and desire, not only does the blood flow faster, but the blood also produces some unknown substance. The poison on the passion flower thorn ordinarily does no harm to people, but when it encounters this substance in the blood, it immediately causes unbearable pain.” Yang Guo heard this and found it somewhat reasonable, half believing, half doubting.

The two strolled slowly to the sunlit side of the mountain. Here the sunlight shone brightly and the earth was warm. The passion flowers had bloomed early and were already bearing fruit. He saw the fruits, some green, some red, some a mixture of both, covered with fine downy hairs like caterpillars. Yang Guo said, “How beautiful the passion flower is, yet the fruit it bears is so ugly.” The girl said, “The fruit of the passion flower cannot be eaten. Some are sour, some are spicy, and some stink unbearably, enough to make a person vomit.” Yang Guo laughed. “Could there be none as sweet as honey?”

The girl glanced at him and said, “There are some, but you cannot tell from the skin of the fruit. Some that grow extremely ugly taste sweet, yet the ugly ones are not necessarily sweet. Only by tasting them yourself can you know. Nine out of ten fruits are bitter, so people never bother to eat them.” Yang Guo thought to himself, “Though she speaks of passion flowers, she seems to be using them as a metaphor for the love between men and women. Can it be that the flavour of yearning, though sweet at first, must turn bitter in the end? Can it be that when a man and woman love each other with all their hearts, the feeling of longing must cause them such pain they wish to die? In the end, must it always be more ugly than beautiful? Could it be that my own bitter longing for Gugu, in the future…”

The moment he thought of Xiaolongnü, several jolts of sharp pain suddenly struck his finger. He could not help but shake his right arm violently. Only then did he know that what the girl had said was indeed true. Seeing him in this state, the girl’s lips twitched slightly as though she wished to laugh but restrained herself. The morning sun slanted across her face. He saw that her brows and eyes were delicate and refined, her complexion a blush of pink upon white, exceedingly lovely. Yang Guo smiled and said, “I once heard a story. In ancient times, there was a certain king who lit beacon fires to toy with his feudal lords and lost his entire realm, all for the sake of winning a single smile from a peerless beauty.⁹ From this we see how rare a smile truly is, the same in ancient times as today.” Teased like this by Yang Guo, the girl could no longer hold back. With a peal of laughter, she finally smiled.

With that one smile, the barrier of unfamiliarity between them melted away for the most part. Yang Guo continued, “The world knows how rare a beautiful woman’s smile is, speaking of how one smile topples a city, a second smile topples a kingdom.¹⁰ But in truth, a beauty has something else, even rarer than her smile.” The girl widened her eyes and asked, “What is that?” Yang Guo said, “That would be the beauty’s name. To see a beauty’s face even once is already tremendous good fortune. To see her radiant smile requires that your ancestors accumulated virtue, and you yourself must have cultivated yourself across three lifetimes…” Before he finished, the girl had burst into pealing laughter again. Yang Guo continued with utter seriousness: “As for having a beauty speak her fragrant name with her own lips, that truly requires eighteen generations of ancestors steadily building up hidden merit.”¹¹

The girl said, “I am no beauty. No one in this valley has ever said I was beautiful. Why must you tease me?” Yang Guo heaved a long sigh. “Ah, no wonder this valley is called the Valley of Severed Passions. In my opinion, it would be better to change the name.” The girl said, “Change it to what?” Yang Guo said, “It should be called the Valley of the Blind.” Puzzled, the girl asked, “Why?” Yang Guo said, “You are so beautiful, yet they do not praise you. Are not all who dwell in this valley blind?”

The girl laughed again, a silvery, delighted sound. In appearance, she could certainly be counted as quite beautiful, though far below Xiaolongnü. Yet compared with Cheng Ying¹²’s gentleness or Lu Wushuang¹³’s spirited charm, she seemed not at all inferior. Yang Guo made a mental comparison and felt this girl, in her refined elegance, surpassed Wanyan Ping¹⁴. She possessed a delicate grace beyond the mundane, a natural quality of pure, clear spirit. In her entire life, no one had indeed ever praised her beauty, for the martial discipline practised in her sect approached Chan Buddhist practice. When members met, all were cold and expressionless. Even if someone in their heart thought her very beautiful, none would dare to voice it aloud. Today she had suddenly encountered Yang Guo, a man whose nature was lively and unrestrained. The more he saw her dignified self-possession, the more he wanted to tease her into shedding that emotionless manner that kept others a thousand li away. She had first been impressed by his insight when he explained the name “Valley of Severed Passions,” and now, hearing him sincerely praise her beauty, she was all the more delighted. Laughing, she said, “I fear you yourself are the blind one, mistaking an ugly monster for a beauty.”

Yang Guo kept a straight face. “It is possible I am mistaken. But for this valley to remain peaceful and untroubled, you truly must not laugh.” Puzzled, the girl said, “Why?” Yang Guo said, “The ancients said one smile topples a city, a second smile topples a kingdom. Actually, they wrote the wrong character. The word is not ‘kingdom’, it should be ‘valley.’”¹⁵ The girl bent slightly at the waist, laughing. “Thank you. Please stop teasing me, all right?” Yang Guo saw her slender waist swaying, her upper body trembling slightly, and in his heart he could not help but be stirred. But this stirring of the heart was no small matter, a fresh wave of sharp pain shot through his fingertip.

Seeing him shake his finger repeatedly, the girl felt a faint displeasure and said reproachfully, “I am talking with you, yet you go off thinking of the one in your heart.” Yang Guo said, “An injustice, a terrible injustice. My finger aches on your account, yet you blame me.” The girl’s face flushed crimson. Suddenly she broke into a run.

The moment the words left his mouth, Yang Guo was already filled with regret. “Since my heart is wholly set on Gugu, why can I never change this unruly, improper temperament? Yang Guo, Yang Guo, you little scoundrel, stop this reckless talk.” In his nature, he truly carried three parts of his father’s frivolity and roguishness. Though he meant no harm, exchanging a few teasing words with every young woman, stirring them into confusion and infatuation, this was something his heart delighted in.

The girl had run several zhang¹⁶ when she suddenly stopped, standing beneath a passion flower tree, her head lowered in a daze. After a moment, she turned back and said with a slight smile, “If an ugly monster told you her name, that would surely mean your eighteen generations of ancestors did far too many wicked deeds, bringing misfortune upon their descendant.” Yang Guo drew near and laughed. “You love to say the opposite of what you mean. My eighteen generations of ancestors did so many good deeds that, when it comes to me, surely good must be repaid with good.” These words were still in praise of her beauty. Her face flushed faintly. She said in a low voice, “I will tell you, but you must not tell a second person, and even less must you call me by it in front of others.” Yang Guo stuck out his tongue. “Offend a beauty? Am I not afraid of having my line cut off?”¹⁷

The girl gave another radiant smile. “My father’s surname is Gongsun…”¹⁸ She was always unwilling to speak her name directly, preferring to circle around it. Yang Guo cut in: “But I wonder what the young lady’s surname might be?” The girl pressed her lips together in a smile. “That, I would not know. My father once gave his only daughter a name. He called her Lü’e.”¹⁹ Yang Guo praised her: “As I thought, a name as beautiful as the person.”

Having told Yang Guo her name, Gongsun Lü’e grew a few degrees closer to him. She said, “In a little while, Father will want to meet you. You must not smile at me.” Yang Guo said, “And what if I do?” Gongsun Lü’e sighed. “Ah, if he knew I had smiled at you, and that I had told you my name, I truly do not know how he would punish me.” Yang Guo said, “I have never heard of such a stern father, his daughter cannot even smile at someone. Such a flower-like, jade-like daughter, does he not cherish her?”

Hearing him speak thus, Gongsun Lü’e could not help but redden around the eyes. “Long ago, Father did cherish me dearly. But ever since Mother died, when I was six, Father has grown stricter and stricter with me. After he marries my new mother, I do not know how he will treat me.” As she spoke, two teardrops rolled down. Yang Guo comforted her: “After the wedding, your father’s heart will be glad. He will surely treat you even better.” Lü’e shook her head. “I would rather he treated me more harshly than take a new mother.”

Yang Guo had lost his parents early and did not fully understand such feelings. Wishing to cheer her up, he said, “Your new mother surely cannot be half as beautiful as you.” Lü’e said hurriedly, “You are exactly wrong. This new mother of mine is truly a beauty. Father, for her… for her… Yesterday when we captured that old man surnamed Zhou, if Father had not been busy arranging the wedding, he would never have let that Old Imp escape again.” Yang Guo was both startled and delighted. “Old Imp escaped again?” Gongsun Lü’e’s elegant brows drew together. “Did he not?” Yang Guo had long expected that with Zhou Botong’s abilities, the four disciples of the Passionless Valley, even with their fishing nets, could never hold him.

The two talked for a while. The morning sun gradually rose higher. Lü’e suddenly started in alarm. “You must go back quickly. Do not let my martial brothers see us talking together and report it to Father.” A feeling of sympathy for her plight welled up naturally in Yang Guo. He extended his left hand and clasped hers, patting the back of her hand gently a few times with his right to show comfort. A look of gratitude appeared in Gongsun Lü’e’s eyes. She lowered her head, and suddenly her face was covered in a deep blush. Yang Guo, fearing that thoughts of Xiaolongnü would bring pain to his finger again, strode quickly back to the stone hut where he was staying.

He had not yet entered when he heard Ma Guangzuo²⁰ shouting and complaining, how could plain water and green vegetables fill a stomach? And these flower petals, neither bitter nor sweet, forcing people to eat them, was that not a plot to steal wealth and destroy lives? Yin Kexi²¹ laughed. “Brother Ma, whatever treasures you have on you, you had best put them away securely. I suspect this valley master harbours less than pure intentions.” Ma Guangzuo, not realizing Yin Kexi was mocking him, nodded vigorously in agreement. Yang Guo walked inside and saw the stone table piled with plates of passion flower petals. Everyone was eating with deeply furrowed brows. It occurred to him that even the great monk Jinlun Guoshi was suffering the affliction of the passion flower, and he laughed to himself.

He picked up a cup of water and drank a few mouthfuls. Footsteps sounded outside the door, and a person in green entered. Cupping his hands and bowing, he said, “The Valley Master invites the six honoured guests to meet with him.”

Guoshi, Nimoxing, and the others were all grandmasters of their own schools. Wherever they went, the host always came out personally to welcome them from afar. Even Kublai, the Fourth Prince of the Great Mongol Empire, treated them with the utmost courtesy. Never did they expect that, having come to this remote mountain valley, the master would treat them with such haughty discourtesy. Each man felt anger rising in his heart. All thought, “When we meet this wretched valley master, we shall give him a taste of our displeasure.”

The six followed the green-clad man toward the rear of the mountain. After walking about a li, they suddenly saw before them a vast, lush-green bamboo grove. Bamboo was extremely rare in the north, and a grove of this size was even more uncommon. The seven passed through the green bamboo, breathing in faint waves of delicate floral fragrance. At once, all worldly cares seemed to melt away. Beyond the bamboo grove, a wave of pure fragrance rushed toward them. Before their eyes stretched an endless expanse of narcissus flowers. Beneath them was a shallow pool, no more than a foot deep, planted entirely with narcissus. This too was a southern flower. How could it appear on a mountaintop between the Pass and the Luo River?²² Guoshi thought, “There must be hot springs beneath this peak or something of the sort, causing the earth’s warmth to be unusual.”

In the pool, wooden stakes were set every four or five chi²³. The green-clad guide swayed slightly and leaped from stake to stake, crossing over. The six followed suit. Only Ma Guangzuo, with his heavy, clumsy frame and poor qinggong, could not manage a single bound of four or five chi. After toppling several stakes, he simply waded through the water.

Where the blue stone path ended, they could see in the distance, in the shade of the mountain, an enormous stone hall. The seven drew near and saw two green-clad servant boys holding horsetail whisks standing before the door. One boy went in to announce them. The other opened the door to welcome the guests. Yang Guo wondered, “Will the Valley Master come out to receive us?” Before the thought settled, a long-bearded elder in a green robe emerged from the stone hall.

The old man was extremely short, barely four chi tall. His features, the five prominences reaching toward heaven, were singular and striking.²⁴ Most remarkable was the thicket of beard that hung straight down, nearly touching the ground. He wore a robe of dark green cloth, and a green straw rope served as his belt. His appearance was exceedingly strange. Yang Guo thought, “This Valley Master is so bizarre in form, yet the daughter he begot is beautiful.” The old man bowed deeply to the six and said, “Honoured guests, your presence brings us joy beyond measure. Please enter and take tea.” Ma Guangzuo, at the word “tea,” frowned deeply and bellowed, “Tea! Is there anywhere that lacks tea? Why must we come here for it?” The long-bearded elder, not understanding his meaning, glanced at him and bowed again, inviting the guests inside.

Nimoxing thought, “I am a short man, yet this Valley Master is even shorter than I. Short you may be, but as for martial skill, we shall see who is stronger.” He rushed ahead and extended his hand, laughing. “A pleasure, a pleasure.” He grasped the old man’s hand and immediately exerted force. The others, seeing the two clasp hands, each stepped back a few paces. They knew that when two great masters tested strength, the stakes were not trivial.

Nimoxing first applied twenty percent of his strength but felt neither counterforce nor resistance from his opponent. Slightly puzzled, he added another twenty percent. It felt as though he were gripping a length of hardwood. He added yet another twenty percent. A faint flash of green passed over the old man’s face, but his hand remained as rigid as wood. Greatly surprised, Nimoxing dared not apply the final fraction of his strength, fearing that at the moment of full exertion, his opponent might suddenly counterattack and he would be unable to withstand it. With a hearty laugh, he released the hand.

Jinlun Guoshi walked second. Having observed Nimoxing’s situation, he knew the man had failed to test the old man’s depth. He thought, “The opponent’s strength is unclear. There is no need for me to act rashly.” Pressing his palms together in a Buddhist salute, he strode in with great composure. Xiaoxiang Zi²⁵ and Yin Kexi entered in succession. After them came Ma Guangzuo. He saw the old man’s long beard trailing on the ground, a most peculiar sight. He had eaten nothing all morning, and the few passion flowers had only made him hungrier. Now hunger-fire and rage-fire blazed together. As he entered, he suddenly thrust out a great foot and stomped down on the old man’s beard, trapping the tip beneath his sole. The old man, his expression unchanged, said, “Honoured guest, be careful.” Ma Guangzuo planted his other foot on the beard as well. “What about it?” The old man shook his head slightly. Ma Guangzuo lost his footing and suddenly toppled backward in a tremendous fall. For a giant of his size to crash down was no small matter. Yang Guo, walking last, rushed forward two steps and pressed a palm against his backside. Exerting force through his palm, he bounced the enormous body back upright. Ma Guangzuo steadied his stance, rubbed his own backside with both hands in bewilderment, and turned to nod his thanks to Yang Guo.

The old man acted as though he had seen nothing. He invited the six to sit on the western side of the great hall and announced in a ringing voice, “The honoured guests have arrived. I request the Valley Master to receive them.” Yang Guo and the others were all startled. “So this short man is not the Valley Master.”

From the rear hall, a dozen or so men and women in green filed out and stood in a row on the left. Gongsun Lü’e was among them. After another pause, a figure emerged from behind the screen. He bowed to the six with clasped hands, then casually seated himself in a chair on the eastern side. The long-bearded old man stood with hands lowered beside his chair. Judging by this man’s manner, he was clearly the Valley Master.

The man appeared to be in his mid-forties. His features were handsome, his bearing graceful and at ease. A faint moustache adorned his upper lip and chin. Merely stepping into the hall, bowing once, and sitting down, he projected an air of lofty distinction. Only his complexion was waxen and sallow. Though his features were refined, his face had a withered, sickly cast. Once he was seated, several green-clad servant boys presented tea. Every furnishing in the great hall favoured the colour green. The Valley Master’s own robe, however, was of brand-new sapphire-blue satin. Amid the sea of green, it was strikingly conspicuous, and its cut and style differed from current fashion.

The Valley Master swept his sleeve and raised his tea bowl. “Honoured guests, please take tea.” Ma Guangzuo saw the tea, cold as ice, with two or three leaves floating on the surface, clearly insipid beyond measure. He erupted: “Master of the house! You begrudge us meat, you begrudge us tea. No wonder your face is full of sickly pallor.” The Valley Master’s expression did not shift. He drank a mouthful of tea and said, “For several hundred years, our valley has maintained a vegetarian diet.” Ma Guangzuo said, “What good does that do? Can it grant you immortality?” The Valley Master said, “Since our founding ancestor moved here to live in seclusion during the reign of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang,²⁶ the prohibition against meat has never been broken by his descendants.”

Jinlun Guoshi cupped his hands. “So your esteemed family has dwelt here since the Tianbao reign period. Truly, your ancestral blessings stretch long indeed.” The Valley Master returned the salute. “You are too kind.”

Xiaoxiang Zi suddenly said in a strange, eerie voice, “Then did your ancestor see Yang Guifei?”²⁷ The voice was exceptionally bizarre. Nimoxing, Yin Kexi, and the others, though accustomed to his manner of speaking, all sensed something amiss and turned their heads to look at his face. At a single glance, they were even more startled. His face had suddenly transformed completely. He was born with a corpse-like face to begin with, but now it appeared even more grotesque. Guoshi, Nimoxing, and the others were secretly wary. All thought, “So this man’s neili²⁸ has reached such a fearsome level that even his appearance can suddenly change. He is secretly circulating his power. Is he about to strike immediately and show this Valley Master a display of force?” At this thought, each man prepared his guard.

The Valley Master answered, “My humble ancestor did indeed serve as an official in the court of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang. Later, seeing Yang Guozhong throw the court into chaos,²⁹ he retired in indignation to live in seclusion.” Xiaoxiang Zi gave a gurgling laugh and said, “Then your ancestor must have drunk Yang Guifei’s foot-washing water.”

At these words, every face in the great hall changed colour. This remark was clearly a declaration of war against the Valley Master, blows would be exchanged within moments. Guoshi and the others were all puzzled. “This Xiaoxiang Zi is ordinarily the most sinister and cunning, always letting others take the vanguard in every affair. Why today is he so bold and eager to lead the charge?”

The Valley Master paid him no attention. With a wave of his hand toward the long-bearded old man standing behind him, the old man said loudly, “The Valley Master honours you as guests and treats you with courtesy. How dare you speak such nonsense?”

Xiaoxiang Zi gave another gurgling laugh and said in that strange, eerie voice, “Your old ancestor must have drunk Yang Guifei’s foot-washing water back in the day. If he didn’t, I’ll cut my head off and give it to you.” Ma Guangzuo, greatly puzzled, asked, “Brother Xiaoxiang, how do you know? Were you there drinking it together that day?” Xiaoxiang Zi burst out laughing, his voice shifting again. “If drinking foot-washing water didn’t turn his stomach, why else would he refuse all meat and strong flavours?” Ma Guangzuo clapped and roared with laughter. “Right, right! That must be the reason.”

Guoshi and the others, however, frowned deeply. They all felt Xiaoxiang Zi had gone too far. Everyone had their own dietary habits, how could they be made a subject of mockery? Besides, the six had come deep into the valley uninvited. The other party was not obliged to provide fine food. And seeing clearly that these people were not to be trifled with, even if they meant to test each other’s martial skills, they should leave some room for retreat.

The long-bearded old man could bear it no longer. He strode to the centre of the hall and said, “Master Xiaoxiang, our valley has given you no offense. Since you insist on testing your hand, please step forward.” Xiaoxiang Zi said, “Fine!” Still seated in his chair, he soared over the table before him, chair and man together, and landed with a thud in the centre of the hall. He called out, “Long-bearded old fellow, what is your name? You know my name, but I don’t know yours. That would be too unfair in a fight. I absolutely cannot afford to take such a disadvantage.” These words were half-sensical, half-nonsense. The long-bearded old man’s anger deepened, but seeing Xiaoxiang Zi’s display of qinggong, man and chair soaring together, graceful and nimble, far from ordinary, his wariness deepened as well. The Valley Master said, “Tell him. It does not matter.”

The long-bearded old man said, “Very well. My surname is Fan, my given name Yiweng.³⁰ Please rise and display your skill.” Xiaoxiang Zi said, “What weapon do you use? Bring it out first and let me see.” Fan Yiweng said, “You wish to contest weapons? Very well.” He stamped his right foot on the ground and called, “Bring it!” Two green-clad servant boys rushed into the inner chamber. When they emerged, they carried on their shoulders a dragon-headed steel staff, roughly one zhang and one chi in length. Yang Guo and the others were all startled. “Such a long and heavy weapon, how can this dwarf wield it?”

Xiaoxiang Zi paid no attention. From beneath his long robe he produced an enormous pair of scissors. “Do you know what these scissors are used for?” he asked. The others, seeing the giant scissors, merely found them curious. But Yang Guo was greatly alarmed. He did not even need to reach into his clothing to check. The slight pressure against his back told him the large scissors in his pouch were gone. He thought, “These large scissors were forged for me by Blacksmith Feng. I meant to use them to cut Li Mochou³¹’s horsetail whisk. How did this living corpse steal them in the night without my noticing at all?”

Fan Yiweng took the steel staff and stamped it on the ground. The stone hall was extremely spacious. The staff’s impact sent out a humming reverberation, and the echoes from the four walls made the display all the more imposing.

Xiaoxiang Zi picked up the scissors in his right hand. He had to stretch his fingers to their limit just to open and close them. He called out, “Hey, Short Beard, you don’t know the name of my precious shears. Shall I teach you?” Fan Yiweng said angrily, “A freakish, heretical weapon like that, what refined name could it possibly have?” Xiaoxiang Zi laughed heartily. “Correct. The name is indeed inelegant. They are called the Dog-Fur Shears.” Yang Guo felt displeased. “A perfectly good pair of scissors, and you give them such an ugly name.” Xiaoxiang Zi continued, “I knew long ago that there was a long-bearded freak here, so I specially commissioned these Dog-Fur Shears, to cut your beard.”

Ma Guangzuo and Nimoxing roared with laughter. Yin Kexi and Yang Guo could not help laughing aloud either. Only Jinlun Guoshi maintained solemn composure, sitting opposite the Valley Master. The two seemed not to have heard at all.

Fan Yiweng raised the steel staff and shook it slightly, stirring a gust of wind. He said, “My beard is indeed too long. If you wish to play the barber, nothing could be better. Please begin!”

Xiaoxiang Zi raised his head and stared blankly at the crossbeam of the great hall, as though he had not heard a word. Suddenly his right arm shot out like lightning. With a snap, the great scissors went for the beard. Fan Yiweng had never imagined that, seated in his chair, the man would launch such a sudden attack. In the crisis, there was no time to dodge. He thrust the steel staff hard against the ground and vaulted upward, flipping over a zhang into the air, the staff still planted beneath him. Xiaoxiang Zi’s attack had been launched with extreme speed. Fan Yiweng’s evasion had been equally swift. In that one cut and one dodge, the two masters had each revealed superior martial skill in a single instant. Yet Fan Yiweng had suffered from being caught off guard. Though he had avoided the shears, three strands of his beard had been snipped off by the scissor tips.

Xiaoxiang Zi was enormously pleased with himself. He raised the beard strands in his left hand and blew. The three strands flew toward his own tea bowl on the table. With a crash, the tea bowl shattered on the floor. Yang Guo and the others all knew Xiaoxiang Zi was merely showing off, what knocked over the tea bowl was the force of his breath. Ma Guangzuo, however, did not understand this principle and assumed the three beard strands, blown with such force, could produce such power. He shouted, “Xiaoxiang Zi, your beard is mighty impressive!” Xiaoxiang Zi laughed heartily. He opened and closed the scissors with a snap. “Short Beard, would you like to try my Dog-Fur Shears again?”

The others watched him laughing uproariously, yet the flesh of his face did not move at all. They grew increasingly astonished. “When neili is cultivated to the highest realm, one can indeed keep joy and anger from showing on the face, even reach a state beyond delight and displeasure. But for him to laugh with such obvious delight while his face remains so sinister and terrifying, we have never seen anything like it.” His face was simply too hideous. Everyone took only a single glance before turning away.

Fan Yiweng, repeatedly humiliated, blazed with fury. He bowed to the Valley Master and said, “Master, this disciple can no longer treat this man with the courtesy due a guest.” Yang Guo found it very strange. “This dwarf is far older than the Valley Master. Why does he address him as Master?” The Valley Master nodded slightly, his left hand making a gentle gesture. Fan Yiweng swung the steel staff. With a whoosh, it swept horizontally toward Xiaoxiang Zi’s chair. Though his body was short, his strength was astonishing. As the staff, weighing over a hundred jin³², swung out, the wind howled fiercely.

Yang Guo and the others, though they had come with Xiaoxiang Zi, did not truly know the depth of his martial skill. They watched intently as the two fought. The steel staff was less than half a chi from the chair leg when Xiaoxiang Zi dropped his left arm and actually reached out to grab the staff’s tip. At the same time, he opened the scissors and again went for his opponent’s long beard. Fan Yiweng was enraged. “He despises me so!” He jerked his head to the side, flinging his beard clear, while the staff continued toward the hand. This blow struck the palm squarely. Everyone cried “Ah!” He rose to their feet simultaneously. All thought Xiaoxiang Zi’s hand must have suffered grave injury. Yet Fan Yiweng felt the staff strike as though hitting water, soft and insubstantial. Knowing something was wrong, he hastily pulled back the staff. But Xiaoxiang Zi had already flipped his wrist and seized the tip.

Fan Yiweng felt the opponent pulling and, driving the steel staff forward with a mighty thrust, sent such ferocious force through it that it seemed Xiaoxiang Zi would surely be torn from his chair. But suddenly, man and chair soared upward together once more, veering left. The staff missed. Yet Xiaoxiang Zi’s fingers had no choice but to release the tip. Fan Yiweng circled his left hand above his head. The staff traced an arc and swept down toward his opponent’s crown. Xiaoxiang Zi, intent on showing off, leaped man and chair a full zhang into the air, actually clearing the staff entirely. The onlookers, seeing such a peculiar yet nimble display, as though being in the chair made no difference at all, could not help but cry out in admiration.

Fan Yiweng fought with total concentration. The steel staff howled as he wielded it. He knew that striking the man’s body would be extremely difficult, but if he could smash the chair, that would count as gaining the first advantage. But Xiaoxiang Zi’s right-hand scissors kept snapping open and shut, never ceasing their attack on the long beard, while his left hand employed grappling techniques, seizing every opening to snatch the steel staff. Guoshi and the others were secretly alarmed. “Who would have thought this corpse-like freak possessed such remarkable skill.”

After several more exchanges, Fan Yiweng’s staff kept sweeping low along the ground. Xiaoxiang Zi, man and chair together, leaped and dodged. The chair legs rose and fell with a rapid clatter, faster and faster. The Valley Master suddenly called out, “Stop attacking the chair, or you will not be able to handle him.” Fan Yiweng started, then understood. “With him seated in that chair, I can barely fight him to a draw. If his feet touch the ground, I fear in a few moves my beard will be cut off.” He changed his staff technique, whirling and thrusting with wild speed. A sphere of silver light now enveloped the long-bearded dwarf in green, while outside the silver light, a corpse-like figure in a chair bounced and leaped, a truly rare spectacle.

The Valley Master perceived that Xiaoxiang Zi was deliberately toying with his opponent. If the fight continued, Fan Yiweng would certainly come to harm. He rose slowly from his seat and said, “Yiweng, you are no match for this master. Withdraw.” Fan Yiweng, hearing his shifu’s command, answered loudly, “Yes!” He thrust the steel staff forward and was about to pull back and leap clear when Xiaoxiang Zi cried, “No, no!” His body shot from the chair and dove straight onto the steel staff. With a crack, the chair was smashed to splinters. But the staff was already caught in Xiaoxiang Zi’s left hand, his left foot planted on it. At the same moment, the great scissors opened wide and caught Fan Yiweng’s chin beard between the blades. One snap, and this magnificent beard would be no more.

But Fan Yiweng had grown this long beard precisely as an exceedingly formidable soft weapon, used in the same manner as a soft whip, a cloud duster, or a chain hammer. With a slight shake of his head, the beard curled backward and slipped free of the scissor blades. It reversed and coiled around the scissors, and with a backward jerk of his head, a great force pulled the scissors upward. Xiaoxiang Zi cried, “Aiyo! Old Dwarf, your beard is truly impressive. I concede to you.” One man’s long beard wrapped around the scissors, the other’s left hand gripped the steel staff. For a moment, neither could break free. Xiaoxiang Zi laughed heartily, shouting, “Interesting! Interesting!”

Suddenly, a grey figure flickered at the main entrance. A shadow darted in with astonishing speed, both palms thrusting toward Xiaoxiang Zi’s back. The Valley Master shouted, “Who goes there?” Xiaoxiang Zi released the staff with his left palm and swung back, bracing beneath the attacker’s elbow, instantly neutralizing the palm force. The attacker raged, “You wretched bastard! I’ll fight you to the death!”

Yang Guo and the others stared, utterly astonished, and cried out in unison: “Xiaoxiang Zi!” The person who had burst in to attack was also Xiaoxiang Zi. How could one man split into two? And why would he attack his own double? For a moment, no one could make sense of it.

Looking more carefully, they saw that the man entangled with Fan Yiweng was indeed wearing Xiaoxiang Zi’s clothing, robes, shoes, hat, everything exactly the same. The face was corpse-like as well, but the features were entirely different from Xiaoxiang Zi’s original appearance. The man who had entered later matched in features but wore the green shirt and trousers of the valley’s inhabitants. His hands were like bird claws as he clawed again at the scissor-wielding Xiaoxiang Zi’s back, shouting, “Bastard! You struck from the shadows!”

Fan Yiweng, seeing a sudden ally appear, one dressed in the valley’s colours but a stranger nonetheless, withdrew his staff in surprise and stood aside. The two corpse-like figures traded blows with crashes and thuds.

By now, Yang Guo had figured it out. The man holding the scissors must have stolen his human-skin mask,³³ put it on, and swapped clothes with Xiaoxiang Zi, then slipped into the great hall to cause chaos. Because Xiaoxiang Zi’s ordinary face already looked like a dead man’s, no one had noticed at first. Yang Guo often wore the human-skin mask himself, but he had never known what he looked like while wearing it. He had not dared to study Cheng Ying’s appearance in the mask closely either. Thus this man had fooled him completely. After watching intently for a moment, he recognized the martial arts of the scissor-wielding man and shouted, “Zhou Botong! Return my mask and scissors!” He leaped into the centre of the hall and reached to snatch the great scissors from his hand.

It was indeed Zhou Botong. Wanting to enter the valley and cause havoc, he had deliberately allowed the four disciples of the Passionless Valley to capture him in their fishing net. He had offered no resistance at the time. Only after entering the valley did he break free of the net and escape. He had hidden behind the mountain rocks, intent on turning the valley upside down, when he saw Yang Guo and his five companions arrive. That night, he had launched a sneak attack, sealed Xiaoxiang Zi’s acupoints, carried him out of the stone hut, stripped off his clothes, and put them on himself. His qinggong was extraordinary. He came and went without a trace. Xiaoxiang Zi had fallen victim in his sleep without knowing it, and even Guoshi and the others had noticed nothing. After changing clothes, Zhou Botong had returned to the stone hut, lain down beside Yang Guo, and casually stolen the scissors and mask from his pack. When everyone woke the next morning, no one had discovered a thing.

Xiaoxiang Zi, his acupoints sealed, had urgently circulated his neili to break free. But Zhou Botong’s acupoint-sealing technique was masterful. Only after three shichen could his limbs move freely again. By then, he was wearing nothing but his undershirt and shorts. Enraged beyond measure, he had encountered a green-clad valley disciple passing by, knocked him down, and swapped into his clothes, shoes, and socks before hurrying to the great stone hall. There he saw a man wearing his own clothes locked in fierce combat with Fan Yiweng. Mad with fury, he attacked ferociously.

Zhou Botong, seeing Yang Guo come to seize the scissors, employed the Ambidextrous Self Combat technique.³⁴ His left palm thrust and withdrew, dealing with Yang Guo, while his right hand worked the scissors, snapping them open and shut, keeping Xiaoxiang Zi from daring to draw near. When the great scissors opened fully, the gap between the blades was over two chi wide. If they clamped around a man’s neck and closed, the head would part from the body in an instant. Though Xiaoxiang Zi raged, he dared not advance rashly.

Gongsun, the Valley Master, had already been secretly awed while watching Zhou Botong fight Fan Yiweng. Now, seeing him battle two opponents with both hands separately, as though one man had split into two, he thought of the Yin-Yang Dual Blades technique he himself had studied, which bore some slight resemblance but could never approach such a division of mind. And seeing Xiaoxiang Zi’s iron-like claws and ruthless strikes, yet Yang Guo’s graceful bearing and elegant form, every gesture carrying an air of transcendent refinement, he mused, “Great is the world, and masters emerge in every generation. These two old men are formidable indeed, but this youth, though his power is shallow, moves with such exquisite elegance of body and fist.” He said in a clear voice, “Three masters, please hold.”

Yang Guo and Xiaoxiang Zi leaped back simultaneously. Zhou Botong tore off the human-skin mask and hurled it, along with the scissors, toward Yang Guo. “I’ve had my fun. I’m off!” He pushed off with both feet and shot up toward the roof beam.

The valley disciples, seeing his true face revealed, erupted in commotion. Gongsun Lü’e cried, “Father, it is that old man!” Zhou Botong straddled the beam and roared with laughter. The beam was over three zhang above the floor. Many of those in the hall possessed excellent qinggong, but to leap up so lightly, each knew himself incapable. Fan Yiweng was the eldest disciple of the Passionless Valley, older even than the Valley Master. In the valley, aside from the Valley Master himself, his martial skill was the strongest. Humiliated repeatedly by Zhou Botong today, how could he not be enraged? Short in stature, he excelled at climbing. He leaped up and embraced a pillar, clambering upward like an ape. Zhou Botong loved nothing more than someone to play with. Seeing Fan Yiweng climbing up to join the fun, it suited him perfectly. Before Fan Yiweng could reach the beam, Zhou Botong extended a hand to help him.

Fan Yiweng had no idea his intentions were friendly. Seeing the right hand extended, he jabbed a finger straight at the “Great Mound” acupoint on the wrist.³⁵ The moment Zhou Botong felt the faint sensation on his wrist, he instantly sealed the acupoint and relaxed the muscle. Fan Yiweng’s finger sank in as though poking cotton. Hastily pulling back his hand, he found Zhou Botong’s palm flipping over to deliver a crisp slap to the back of his hand. “One basket of wheat, two baskets of wheat, big brother, little brother, pat the wheat!”³⁶ Zhou Botong chanted. Enraged, Fan Yiweng shook his head and lashed his long beard toward Zhou Botong’s chest. Hearing the fierce wind of the attack, Zhou Botong braced his left foot and swung his body clear. His left hand gripped the crossbeam as he hung suspended in midair, swinging back and forth like a child on a swing.

Xiaoxiang Zi knew full well Fan Yiweng was no match for him. Even if he joined in, victory was not assured. He turned to Nimoxing and Ma Guangzuo and said, “Brothers Ni and Ma, this old man holds the six of us in utter contempt. Truly, he bullies us beyond endurance.” Nimoxing had a fiery temper and could not bear provocation. Ma Guangzuo was slow of mind and could not distinguish right from wrong. Hearing “holds the six of us in utter contempt,” they took it as truth. Roaring together, they leaped toward the crossbeam to grab Zhou Botong’s feet. Zhou Botong kicked left and right at their grasping hands.

Xiaoxiang Zi said coldly to Yin Kexi, “Brother Yin, do you truly mean to stand by with folded arms?” Yin Kexi smiled faintly. “Brother Xiaoxiang, please lead the way. This humble one would be honoured to follow in your wake.” Xiaoxiang Zi gave a weird shriek that sent chills through the hall, then suddenly leaped. His knees did not bend, his entire body was rigid, his arms thrust straight forward. Truly like a reanimated corpse, he clawed at Zhou Botong’s abdomen.

Zhou Botong saw the twin claws descending and suddenly contracted his body, curling into a ball like a kitten. The left hand gripping the beam switched to the right. Xiaoxiang Zi’s claws grasped empty air. Unable to stay aloft, he dropped to the ground. His entire body was like a stiff, straight log. He pushed off the floor with his toes and shot upward again. Fan Yiweng swept his beard horizontally along the beam, while Xiaoxiang Zi, Nimoxing, and Ma Guangzuo rose and fell, fell and rose, leaping upward in continuous assault.

Yin Kexi laughed. “This old man is truly remarkable. I shall join the excitement as well.” He reached into his robes, and suddenly the hall blazed with the light of pearls and the gleam of gold. In his hand now was a soft whip, woven from gold and silver threads and studded with pearls, jade, and precious gems. Such a magnificent, luxurious weapon, surely the only one of its kind in the jianghu³⁷. The golden-thread pearl whip flashed with iridescent light as it coiled toward Zhou Botong’s calf.

Yang Guo watched with delight and thought, “These five are each showing their divine skills to besiege Old Imp. If I don’t produce something extraordinary to win, I cannot claim to be capable.” An idea struck him. He put on the human-skin mask, gave a weird shriek in imitation of Xiaoxiang Zi, picked up the steel staff Fan Yiweng had dropped, and used it to vault himself into the air. The staff was already over a zhang long. With this vault, he rose level with Zhou Botong. “Old Imp, watch the shears!” he shouted, aiming the great scissors at the white beard.

Zhou Botong was delighted. Tilting his head to avoid the scissors, he cried, “Little brother, your method is most entertaining.” Yang Guo said, “Old Imp, I never offended you. Why did you play tricks on me?” Zhou Botong laughed. “Give and take, you haven’t lost a thing. In fact, you came out ahead.” Yang Guo was puzzled. “What do you mean, give and take?” Zhou Botong laughed. “You once shouted that you were my friend and told them to release me. So I took you as a friend.” He saw Yin Kexi’s golden-thread whip striking and reached to grab it. Yin Kexi’s soft whip curled back, intending to counter-strike his opponent’s back, but his body had already dropped. Zhou Botong said, “You dead red-banded snake,³⁸ all gaudy and colourful, rather amusing.” By now, Fan Yiweng’s long beard was sweeping toward him. With both hands gripping the beam, Fan Yiweng relied entirely on his beard to attack.

Zhou Botong laughed. “So the big beard has this use too?” Imitating him, he flung his own chin beard forward. But his beard was far shorter than Fan Yiweng’s, and he had never trained it in martial techniques. The swing was utterly useless. With a snap, his opponent’s beard struck his cheek, raising red welts and a hot, stinging pain. Had his neili not been so profound, he would have fainted on the spot. Having suffered this setback, Old Imp was not angered but instead filled with admiration. “Long Beard,” he said, “my beard is no match for yours. I concede. We stop here. I’ll go train my beard technique and come back for another match.”

Fan Yiweng, having landed a successful blow, followed with another sweep of the beard. Zhou Botong dared not meet it with his own beard again. His left hand executed the “Empty Bright Fist” technique,³⁹ throwing out an insubstantial punch. The fist wind pushed Fan Yiweng’s beard to the right, just as Ma Guangzuo leaped up to attack. The long beard brushed right across his face. Ma Guangzuo’s eyes were covered. With both hands, he seized the beard. Fan Yiweng’s beard had always been freely controlled, but driven off course by Zhou Botong’s fist wind, it had escaped his command and fallen into Ma Guangzuo’s grip. Startled, Fan Yiweng pulled hard to retrieve it, but Ma Guangzuo exerted brute force and held on tight. As his body dropped, he pulled downward with the momentum. With a thunderous crash, both men tumbled to the floor.

Ma Guangzuo, thick-skinned and thick-fleshed, felt little pain. Fan Yiweng, landing on top of him, raged, “What are you doing? Let go!” Though Ma Guangzuo’s fall had not hurt, having the dwarf’s feet brace against his belly was somewhat hard to bear. He roared, “I won’t let go! What are you going to do about it?” He twisted his wrist and wound the beard several turns around his arm. Fan Yiweng struck with a palm to the face. Ma Guangzuo tilted his head to dodge, but the palm was a feint. Fan Yiweng’s left fist slammed squarely into his nose. Ma Guangzuo bellowed and punched back. In terms of martial skill, Fan Yiweng was far superior, but with his beard tangled around his opponent’s arm, he could barely turn his head. This punch too landed on his cheekbone. Tall man and short man thrashed and pounded each other on the floor. Though Fan Yiweng was on top, he could not break free of the entanglement.

Jinlun Guoshi saw the hall in chaos. All five of his companions had struck, yet they still could not handle a single Old Imp. It was somewhat humiliating. With two ringing clangs, he drew from his robes a silver wheel and a bronze wheel. One wheel spun from left to right, the other from right to left, tracing twin arcs of light as they hurtled toward Zhou Botong. The wheels clanged sharply in midair, a terrifying sound. Both were forged of fine steel and were extremely heavy, merely plated with silver and bronze on the surface, differing only in colour.

Zhou Botong, not recognizing the danger, said, “What are those things?” He reached out to grab them. Yang Guo, wanting to help him, shouted, “Don’t grab them!” He hurled the steel staff. With a deafening clang, the long, thick staff was knocked flying by the bronze wheel, crashing into the corner wall and sending stone chips and sparks flying. The bronze wheel spun back. Guoshi flicked it with his left hand, and the wheel hurtled back toward the beam, spinning rapidly.

Only now did Zhou Botong realize this monk was not to be trifled with. He thought, “Too many opponents. I can’t handle this.” He somersaulted to the floor and called, “Gentlemen, Old Imp takes his leave. We’ll play again tomorrow.” He dashed toward the hall entrance, only to see four men in green spreading a fishing net across the doorway. Zhou Botong knew the danger of this net and cried, “Not good!” He tried to leap through the eastern window, but a flash of green told him another net was descending.

Zhou Botong leaped back to the centre of the hall. East, south, west, north, four men in green stood at each side, nets spread to block his path. Zhou Botong vaulted back onto the beam and struck upward with a “Sky-Piercing Palm,” smashing a large hole in the roof. But as he tried to climb through, he looked up and saw another net spread above. With no way out, he flipped back to the floor and pointed at the Valley Master, laughing. “Yellow-faced old fellow, why are you keeping me here? Do you want me to stay and play with you?”

Gongsun, the Valley Master, said coolly, “If you simply return the four items you took, you shall be released from the valley at once.” Zhou Botong said in surprise, “Eh! What use would I have for your stinking things? Even if I trained my skills to your level, would they be worth coveting?” Gongsun, the Valley Master, walked slowly to the centre of the hall. His right sleeve brushed the dust from his clothes. His left sleeve brushed again. He said, “Were today not the great day of my wedding, I would have to exchange a few moves with you. You would do well to leave behind the valley’s possessions and depart in peace.”

Zhou Botong flew into a rage. “So you’re determined to frame me for stealing your things! Bah, what treasures could this miserable valley possibly hold?” He began stripping off his clothes, piece by piece, with astonishing speed. In moments, he stood stark naked, completely bare. Gongsun, the Valley Master, repeatedly called for him to stop, but Zhou Botong paid no heed. He turned his clothes inside out. Indeed, there was nothing. The female disciples in the hall were all flustered and turned their heads away, not daring to look. This turn of events had also caught the Valley Master completely off guard. The items missing from his study, his alchemy chamber, his herb chamber, and his sword chamber were all of vital importance and had to be recovered. Could it be that Old Imp truly had not stolen them?

As the Valley Master pondered, Zhou Botong clapped his hands and cried, “Look at you, already advanced in years, yet so lacking in the dignity befitting your age! Speaking without thinking, acting without sense, utterly shameless in a public gathering, aren’t you making people laugh their teeth out?” These words should, in truth, have been directed at himself. But he had seized the initiative and spoken them first. Gongsun, the Valley Master, could neither laugh nor cry and found himself with no retort. Seeing Fan Yiweng and Ma Guangzuo still tangled on the floor in their endless brawl, he shouted, “Yiweng, get up! Stop this nonsense with our guest.”

Zhou Botong laughed. “Long Beard, I quite like this stubborn, brawling temperament of yours. The two of us old fellows should become friends.” In truth, Fan Yiweng had always been dignified and steady. His tussle with Ma Guangzuo today had been forced upon him. He had tried several times already to rise but could not free himself, his beard tangled around his opponent’s arm.

Gongsun, the Valley Master, frowned slightly and pointed at the stark-naked Zhou Botong. “When it comes to conduct in a public gathering that invites ridicule, I fear you yourself take first place.” Zhou Botong said, “I came out of my mother’s womb stark naked. Now I stand bare and exposed, pure and innocent. What is wrong with that? But you, so old, yet wanting to marry a beautiful young girl as your wife, a wretched old man with no self-awareness whatsoever. Heh heh, laughable! Truly laughable!” These words struck the Valley Master’s chest like great iron hammers. A flush of red passed over his sallow face, and for a long moment, he could not speak.

Zhou Botong shouted, “Aiyo, not good! No clothes. I might catch cold.” He suddenly rushed toward the entrance.

The four green-clad disciples in the hall saw only a blur of motion. Hastily shifting position, they closed in from all sides and wrapped him in the net. The four tied the corners of the net and brought it before the Valley Master. The fishing net was woven from golden thread, both supremely tough and supremely soft. Even precious swords and sabres could not easily cut through it. The four’s net-casting technique was exceptionally strange and swift, crossing positions, spreading the net to cover heaven and earth. Even a master would find it hard to deal with. The weakness was that it required four people working together. A single person could not use it. Having succeeded in one cast, the four were enormously pleased with themselves. But then they saw the Valley Master staring at the net with a dark expression. Looking down in alarm, cold sweat instantly drenched their bodies. In a flurry of hands, they untied the golden-thread net and released two people: Fan Yiweng and Ma Guangzuo.

Zhou Botong had stripped off his clothes. No one had anticipated he would charge out without them. With his astonishing speed, he had scooped up Fan and Ma, still locked in combat on the floor, and tossed them into the net. While the four disciples hurriedly pulled the net tight, he had already slipped away. Feint and real, sound east and strike west, he had vanished like a spirit, elusive as a ghost.

Old Imp’s antics had not only humiliated Gongsun, the Valley Master. Even Jinlun Guoshi and the others felt a pang of shame. All thought, “We call ourselves first-rate masters of the jianghu, yet with so many of us combined, we still could not capture one crazy old man. We are truly incompetent beyond measure.” Only Yang Guo felt great satisfaction. He had come to admire Zhou Botong greatly and had long abandoned any thought of harming him. In his heart, he already considered him a friend. Had Zhou Botong been captured, Yang Guo would have found a way to rescue him. Now that he had escaped on his own, nothing could be better.

Guoshi had come under Kublai’s orders to win over Zhou Botong. But with all the chaos Zhou Botong had caused, there had been no opportunity to build any rapport. He felt there was no point in staying longer. After whispering briefly with Xiaoxiang Zi and Yin Kexi, he rose and cupped his hands. “We have been deeply honoured by the Valley Master’s generous hospitality. We should have liked to learn more from you, but each of us has pressing affairs. We must take our leave.”

Gongsun, the Valley Master, had originally suspected these six were companions of Old Imp. But after seeing Xiaoxiang Zi fight him to the death, and Guoshi, Yin Kexi, Yang Guo, Nimoxing, and Ma Guangzuo each display their unique skills in attacking him, actions that seemed rather to aid his own cause, and noting that each man’s martial skill was not weak, he cupped his hands and said, “This humble one has an unworthy request. I wonder if the six of you would deign to grant it?” Guoshi said, “Whatever lies within our power, we shall be honoured to assist.” The Valley Master said, “This afternoon, this humble one shall take a new wife in marriage.⁴⁰ I would like to invite you all to grace the ceremony with your presence. This valley lies secluded in a remote and impoverished region. For hundreds of years, few outsiders have set foot here. That six honoured guests should arrive together today is truly this humble one’s fortune across three lifetimes.” Ma Guangzuo said, “Will there be wine? Will there be meat?”

Before Gongsun, the Valley Master, could answer, everyone noticed Yang Guo staring fixedly outside the hall, his face bearing an expression of the utmost strangeness, as though caught between great joy and great anguish. All were puzzled. Following his gaze, they saw a young woman in white passing slowly along the corridor outside the hall. The pale sunlight fell upon her pallid face, cold and clear, the sunlight itself seemed to turn to moonlight. Beneath her lashes, tears glimmered. After a few steps, teardrops rolled down her cheeks. Her steps were light. Her body seemed to float across the surface of water as she passed along the corridor. Never once did she glance at the crowd within the great hall.

Yang Guo seemed to have been struck at his acupoints, his entire body frozen and immobile. Suddenly he cried out, “Gugu!”

The young woman in white had reached the end of the corridor. At the sound of the call, her body shook violently. She said softly, “Guoer, Guoer, where are you? Is that you calling me?” She turned her head as though searching for something, but her gaze was vacant, as though she were still in a dream.

Yang Guo burst from the hall and seized her hand. “Gugu! You are here too! I have searched for you so bitterly!” Then came a cry of “Aiyo”, the place where the passion flower thorn had pricked his finger suddenly erupted in unbearable agony. He collapsed to the ground.

The young woman in white gave a cry of “Ah!” Her body trembled, and she sank to the ground, closing her eyes as though she had fainted. Yang Guo called, “Gugu, what… what is wrong with you?” He gathered her into his arms. After a long moment, the young woman slowly opened her eyes, rose to her feet, and said coldly, “Who are you, sir? What did you call me?”

Yang Guo was thunderstruck. He stared intently at her. Was this not Xiaolongnü? Hurriedly he said, “Gugu, I am Guoer. How… how is it you do not recognize me? Are you well? Where are you unwell?”

The young woman looked at him once more and said coldly, “I have never met you before, sir.” She walked into the great hall and sat down beside Gongsun, the Valley Master. Bewildered beyond measure, Yang Guo stumbled back into the hall, his left hand bracing against the back of a chair.

Gongsun, the Valley Master, had maintained an impassive expression throughout. Now he could not help but beam with delight. Raising his hand toward Guoshi and the others, he said, “This is my new bride. We have chosen this very afternoon to perform the wedding rites.” As he spoke, he cast a faint sidelong glance at Yang Guo, as though reproaching him for his earlier rash behaviour in mistaking someone’s identity and startling his new wife.

Yang Guo’s shock now redoubled. He said loudly, “Gugu, can it be… can it be that you are not Xiaolongnü? Are you not my shifu?” The young woman slowly shook her head. “No. What Xiaolongnü?”

Yang Guo’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. His mind churned in chaos. “Is Gugu angry with me and refusing to acknowledge me? Is it because we are in a dangerous place that she is putting on an act? Or has she, like my godfather, forgotten everything? But my godfather still recognized me. Can there truly be someone in this world who looks exactly like her?” He could only say, “Gugu, you… you… I… I am Guoer!”

Seeing his loss of composure, Gongsun, the Valley Master, frowned slightly and said in a low voice to the young woman, “Sister Liu, there are many strange and peculiar people today.” The young woman paid him no attention. She slowly poured a cup of clear water and slowly drank it. Her gaze swept from Jinlun Guoshi through each person in turn, but she avoided Yang Guo and did not look at him again. Everyone saw her sleeve tremble faintly. Water from the cup spilled onto her clothing, yet she seemed not to notice at all.

Yang Guo’s heart was in turmoil. Lost and helpless, he turned to Guoshi and asked, “You fought my shifu once. You must remember. Tell me, have I… have I mistaken someone else?”

The moment this young woman had entered the hall, Guoshi had already identified her as Xiaolongnü. Yet she paid Yang Guo not the slightest attention. He thought, “This young couple must be having a quarrel.” Smiling faintly, he said, “I do not quite remember either.” Xiaolongnü and Yang Guo had joined forces in the Pure-hearted Jade Maiden Swordplay and dealt him the greatest defeat of his entire life. He thought, “If this young pair fall out and cannot fight together, I can eliminate them one by one. That would be greatly to my advantage. Why should I help them reconcile?”

Yang Guo was stunned again, then understood. Fury surged in his heart. “You monk, how utterly vicious. When you were recovering from your wounds on the mountaintop, I exerted myself to help you. Now you turn around and harm me.” He wished he could kill him on the spot.

Jinlun Guoshi saw him dazed and despairing, yet hatred flickered in his eyes, and he thought, “He already bears a grudge against me. Keeping this boy alive will always be a threat. Today his mind is in chaos, this is the perfect chance to eliminate him.” Cupping his hands toward Gongsun, the Valley Master, he said with a smile, “Today we rejoice in the Valley Master’s great happiness. Of course we shall stay to offer our congratulations. It is only that this old monk and these friends have brought no wedding gifts, we are truly ashamed.”

Hearing that he was willing to stay for the wedding, Gongsun, the Valley Master, was overjoyed. He said to the young woman, “These are all masters of the jianghu. To invite even one would be a tremendous honour, to have invited… to have invited…” He had meant to say “six,” but he felt Yang Guo was frivolous and young. Watching him exchange moves with Zhou Botong earlier, his postures had been elegant, but his power seemed shallow. His martial learning was probably flashy and insubstantial, he could not be counted among the “masters of the jianghu.” Yet to exclude him and say only “five” would be too obvious. After a brief hesitation, he continued, “…to have invited this assembly of heroes.” He left it at that. Guoshi thought to himself, “This Valley Master carries himself with great authority. Judging by the way he deployed the fishing net to capture Old Imp, his martial skill and strategic mind are both formidable. Yet his tolerance is small. Yang Guo exchanged only a few words with Xiaolongnü, and he already holds a grudge.”

Gongsun, the Valley Master, said, “Sister Liu, this is Jinlun Guoshi…” He introduced each person in turn, finally giving Yang Guo’s name. As the young woman heard each name, she merely nodded slightly, her face wooden, as though nothing in the world concerned her. But toward Yang Guo, she did not even nod, her eyes turned toward the outside of the hall.

Yang Guo’s face was flushed crimson. His heart churned like an overturned river, an inverted sea. He heard not a single word of what Gongsun, the Valley Master, said. Yin Kexi and the others, not knowing his background, assumed he had merely mistaken someone’s identity and was now ashamed.

Gongsun Lü’e stood behind her father. Not one word or gesture of Yang Guo’s had escaped her eyes or ears. She thought to herself, “This morning his finger was pricked by the passion flower thorn, and he immediately suffered the pain of longing. Judging by his state now, can it be that this new mother of mine is the one in his heart? How could matters in this world coincide so perfectly? Could it be that he and these people came to our valley in truth because of my new mother?” She turned to study the “new mother” and saw on her face neither joy nor shyness. She truly did not look like someone about to become a bride. Her suspicions deepened.

Yang Guo’s chest felt stuffed and suffocated, as though he were about to stop breathing. Then a thought turned in his mind: “Gugu is determined not to acknowledge me. She must have some other scheme. I should find another way to probe the truth.” He rose and bowed to the Valley Master, saying in a clear voice, “This young one has an esteemed relation whose features closely resemble… closely resemble this young lady’s. Just now, failing to look carefully, I mistook her. I beg your forgiveness.”

Hearing these courteous, well-composed words, Gongsun, the Valley Master, immediately changed his expression. He returned the bow and said, “Mistaking one person for another is common enough. What blame is there? Only…” He paused and smiled. “That there should exist under heaven another person of such appearance, that is not only coincidence but truly strange beyond measure.” The implication was clear: where else under the broad sky could there be another woman of such beauty?

Yang Guo said, “Indeed. This young one finds it strange as well. May I be so bold as to ask this young lady’s surname?” Gongsun, the Valley Master, smiled faintly. “Her surname is Liu.⁴¹ Might your esteemed relation also be surnamed Liu?” Yang Guo said, “No, not so.” Inwardly he pondered: “Why would Gugu change her surname to Liu?” A thought stirred. “Ah, because my surname is Yang.”⁴² As this thought turned, his finger erupted in sharp pain again.

Gongsun Lü’e, seeing his anguished expression, felt great sympathy. Her gaze never left his face.

Gongsun, the Valley Master, studied Yang Guo for a moment, then glanced at the young woman in white. She sat with lowered head and drooping brows, utterly silent. Doubt rose in his heart. He thought, “Just now, when she heard this boy call out, I seemed to hear her say, ‘Guoer, Guoer, where are you? Is that you calling me?’ Can it be that she truly is this boy’s Gugu? Yet why would she not acknowledge him?” He was about to question her but considered that with so many outsiders present, this matter could wait until after the wedding. The words reached his lips, but he swallowed them back.

Yang Guo continued, “This Miss Liu surely cannot have been born and raised in this valley. May I ask how the Valley Master came to know her?”

In ancient times, women of good family never lightly showed themselves to outsiders, and certainly never received guests on their wedding day. But Jinlun Guoshi and the others were either Mongol monks, Western Region foreigners, or eccentric wanderers of the rivers and lakes, none of them constrained by conventional etiquette. They thought nothing unusual of the young woman in white appearing before them, only finding it rather inappropriate that on this auspicious day she should be dressed entirely in mourning white. Hearing Yang Guo inquire about how the Valley Master had met her, a matter touching on private affairs, they all felt he was going too far.

Yet Gongsun, the Valley Master, was himself curious to learn his bride’s origins. He thought, “It is possible this boy truly does know Sister Liu.” He said, “Brother Yang’s surmise is correct. Half a month ago, I went to the mountainside to gather medicinal herbs and found her lying at the foot of the mountain, gravely wounded, her breath faint. Upon examining her, I found she had suffered a deviation while training neili.⁴³ I brought her back to the valley and used our family’s secret remedies to help her recover. As for how we came to know each other, it was truly by chance.”

Guoshi interjected, “This is precisely what they call a thread of fate drawing two together across a thousand li.⁴⁴ I imagine Miss Liu, moved by gratitude, pledged herself in return. Truly a match of talent and beauty, a perfect union ordained by heaven.” His words seemed to flatter the Valley Master, but his true intent was to wound Yang Guo.

At these words, Yang Guo’s face changed colour drastically. His whole body trembled, his chest burned with pain, and suddenly a great mouthful of fresh blood sprayed onto the floor.

Seeing this, the young woman in white said in a trembling voice, “You… you…” She hurriedly rose and reached out as if to support Yang Guo’s arm but forced herself to stop. Her entire body shook, and she too spat a mouthful of blood onto her chest, the crimson stark against her white robe.

This Miss Liu was none other than Xiaolongnü under an assumed name. That night at the inn, after hearing Huang Rong⁴⁵’s words, she had turned them over in her mind, weighing them through the long night. Finally, steeling her heart, she had slipped away in silence. She thought that if she returned to the ancient tomb, he would surely come searching. So she wandered alone and desolate through the wild plains and remote valleys. One day, sitting alone in meditation, thoughts of love suddenly surged like a tide, impossible to restrain. Her internal breath abruptly rampaged through her meridians, triggering a recurrence of her old injury. Had Gongsun, the Valley Master, not passed by and rescued her, she would already have perished on that desolate mountain.

Gongsun, the Valley Master, had long been without a wife. Seeing Xiaolongnü’s exquisite, delicate beauty, beyond anything he had ever imagined in his life, he could not help but add tenfold attentiveness to his lifesaving efforts. At that time, Xiaolongnü was utterly despondent. She thought that living alone from now on, she would surely be unable to control herself and would eventually repeat the same mistake, going again to seek Yang Guo and bringing harm upon him. Seeing the Valley Master’s tender affection and hearing his proposal of marriage, she hardened her heart and agreed. She thought that once she became another man’s wife, this ill-fated bond with Yang Guo would be severed with a single stroke. Moreover, this secluded valley was rarely visited by outsiders. She expected never to see him again in this life. How could she have known that Old Imp would suddenly appear to cause havoc and actually lead him into the valley?

Now, suddenly reunited with Yang Guo, Xiaolongnü’s heart was tangled in a thousand knots, impossible to untie. She thought, “Since I have already promised to marry another, I should pretend not to recognize him. Let him leave in fury and hate me for the rest of his life. With his talent and looks, why should he worry about finding no gentle lady, no beautiful companion to match him? In this way, though I suffer heartbreak all my life, he can live peacefully and happily.” Thus, seeing Yang Guo’s desperate anguish, she forced herself to suppress her own pain and treated him with cold indifference. But the grief in her heart grew harder and harder to bear. Now, seeing him vomit blood, filled with both pity and sorrow, she could not stop her own blood from surging upward and bursting forth.

Her face deathly pale, she swayed unsteadily, about to retreat into the inner chambers. Gongsun, the Valley Master, said hastily, “Sit quickly. Do not move, you must not agitate your meridians.” He turned his head and said to Yang Guo, “Leave now. And never come back.”

Yang Guo’s eyes brimmed with hot tears. He said to Xiaolongnü, “Gugu, if I have done wrong, you may beat me, curse me, even kill me with a single sword stroke, and I would accept it gladly. But how can you not acknowledge me?” Xiaolongnü lowered her head in silence and coughed softly.

That day, after hearing Huang Rong’s earnest counsel, Xiaolongnü had pondered deeply. If she and Yang Guo became husband and wife, she herself would of course be happier than ever, but Yang Guo would inevitably suffer the mockery of all the heroes under heaven. Even Guo Jing⁴⁶ and Huang Rong, whom he most revered, would try to kill him. He would certainly not be happy. And if the two of them dwelled forever in the ancient tomb, never emerging into the world, with Yang Guo’s lively, restless nature and his love of excitement and company, he would eventually sink into melancholy. That too would mean only her own happiness while making Yang Guo unhappy. She loved Yang Guo with all her heart. For this young man, even if she herself had to endure the agony of a thousand cuts and ten thousand sword wounds, she would accept it as sweet as honey. Whether they entered the world or withdrew from it together, she herself would find lifelong joy, but Yang Guo would have to forcibly suppress his suffering for her sake. In all her life, though neither her shifu nor Grandma Sun had ever discussed the true meaning of love with her, her love for Yang Guo had reached such depths that she naturally felt she ought to let her beloved be happy while she herself bore the heartbreak. “Who should have joy, and who should suffer?” In this matter, anyone who truly loved another with deep feeling would find the choice easy. Once she had thought this through, weeping until her room at the inn was drenched in tears, her resolve was set. From then on, she could never turn back. Yang Guo assumed Xiaolongnü was angry with him and therefore refused to acknowledge him. In truth, the reason Xiaolongnü would not recognize him was born entirely from the depths of her love for him. She only hoped that for the rest of his life, he would know joy. All the heart-slicing, knife-twisting agony, she would taste it all alone. If their positions were reversed, Yang Guo’s love for her being no weaker than hers for him, the decision he would make would also be: “Let the other have joy, while I bear the heartbreak.”

Gongsun, the Valley Master, seeing Yang Guo provoke his beloved into vomiting blood, was already seething with fury. But his self-cultivation was excellent, and he did not explode. Lowering his voice, he said, “If you do not leave now, do not blame me for showing no mercy.”

Yang Guo’s eyes were fixed on Xiaolongnü. He paid the Valley Master no attention. Pleading, he said, “Gugu, I promised to stay with you in the ancient tomb all my life, never to regret it. Let us leave together.”

Xiaolongnü raised her head. Her gaze met his. She saw in his face infinite, devoted love, ten thousand kinds of sorrow and anguish. Her heart wavered. She thought, “I will go with him now!” But immediately she thought, “My parting from him was not born of momentary impulse. I weighed it carefully, over and over, good and bad. If I cannot endure for this one moment now, I will leave him with a lifetime of suffering.” She turned her head away and sighed deeply. “I do not know you. I do not understand anything you are saying. Everything I do is for your own good. Go now, go in peace.” These words were spoken weakly, with hardly any strength. Yet they were filled with tender, loving devotion. Aside from Ma Guangzuo, who was too dull to sense anything, every person in the hall knew she harboured deep love for Yang Guo and that these words went against her heart.

Gongsun, the Valley Master, could not help but feel a great surge of jealousy. He thought, “Though you have consented to marry me, you have never spoken to me with such deep affection, even half a sentence.” He glared sidelong at Yang Guo. The boy had fine, clear features, a spirited and striking bearing. He and Xiaolongnü were indeed a pair of youthful beauties. The Valley Master mused, “It seems these two must be a pair of lovers. Due to some falling-out, Sister Liu agreed to marry me in anger, but in truth she has not forgotten this boy at all. ‘Gugu,’ ‘Master’, these must be the pet names they use between themselves.” At this thought, his gaze grew even more venomous.

Fan Yiweng was utterly loyal to his shifu. He had always seen his shifu living in lonely desolation and had constantly wished for some way to ease his spirits. Days ago, when his shifu had brought back a beautiful young woman and she had consented to the marriage, his own joy had nearly matched his shifu’s. Now, seeing Yang Guo disrupt matters and provoke the new mistress into vomiting blood, with his shifu already enraged, Fan Yiweng stepped forward and barked harshly, “Boy named Yang, if you know what’s good for you, leave at once! Our Valley Master has no use for rude guests like you.”

Yang Guo heard but did not hear. He said softly to Xiaolongnü again, “Gugu, have you truly forgotten Guoer?” Fan Yiweng flew into a rage and reached out to grab Yang Guo by the back and fling him out of the hall. Yang Guo was pouring his entire heart and soul into speaking with Xiaolongnü, oblivious to everything else. Only when Fan Yiweng’s fingers touched his back did he start in alarm and hastily pull away. The opponent’s five fingers grasped empty air. With a tearing sound, a great hole was ripped in the back of his clothing.

Yang Guo pleaded again and again. Seeing that Xiaolongnü remained unmoved, he grew more and more desperate. Had they been in the ancient tomb or some deserted place, he could have slowly pleaded his case. But there were so many outsiders in this great hall, and now Fan Yiweng had come to shout and strike at him. All his pent-up grievance was about to erupt onto this man. He turned his head and shouted, “I am speaking with my Gugu. What business is it of yours, you dwarf?” Fan Yiweng bellowed, “The Valley Master told you to leave and never return. If you will not obey, do not blame me for showing no mercy.”

Yang Guo raged, “I will not leave! If my Gugu does not leave, I will stay here my whole life. Even if I die, even if my bones turn to ash, I will follow her.” These words were, of course, meant for Xiaolongnü to hear.

Gongsun, the Valley Master, stole a glance at Xiaolongnü’s face. He saw teardrops rolling back and forth in her eyes. At last, unable to hold them back, they fell drop by drop onto the fresh blood on her chest. He felt both jealousy and worry. He shot Fan Yiweng a meaningful glance and made a killing gesture with his right hand, signalling him to strike Yang Guo dead with a fierce blow and sever Xiaolongnü’s attachment once and for all, preventing future trouble.

Seeing this gesture, Fan Yiweng was greatly taken aback. He had only intended to drive Yang Guo out of the valley, to stop his pestering. He had never imagined his shifu would suddenly issue an order to kill. He said loudly, “Though today is the auspicious day of Master’s great wedding, can it be that I may not kill a man?” His eyes sought his shifu’s. Gongsun, the Valley Master, chopped his hand down heavily once more, meaning: “Never mind what day it is, kill this boy at once.” Fan Yiweng picked up the pure-steel giant staff and slammed it heavily against the floor, making the entire hall hum with reverberations. He shouted, “Boy, are you truly not afraid to die?”

Yang Guo had just spat blood. Now the hot blood in his chest surged and rolled, about to burst from his mouth again. The Ancient Tomb Sect’s neili cultivation emphasized self-restraint and the curbing of desire. When Xiaolongnü’s master had transmitted the mental techniques to her, she had earnestly instructed that joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure must all be suppressed. Later, when Xiaolongnü could not control her emotions, she had vomited blood several times. Yang Guo had received instruction from Xiaolongnü, and his neili followed the same path. Now his hands and feet were icy cold. He thought, “I will spew blood wildly right before Gugu and die, let us see if she still refuses to acknowledge me.” But another thought turned: “Gugu has always treated me with such love and affection. There must be some other reason behind today’s events. Most likely she is under this wretched Valley Master’s coercion, helpless, and dare not acknowledge me. If I harm my own body, it will only make it harder to resist.” At this thought, his heroic spirit surged. He resolved to fight his way out of the encirclement and rescue Xiaolongnü. He steadied his mind, sank his qi to his dantian,⁴⁷ and slowly pressed the churning hot blood back down. He smiled faintly and pointed at Fan Yiweng. “This dead-alive valley of yours, when I wish to come, you cannot stop me. When I wish to leave, do not think you can keep me.”

Everyone had seen him lose his composure so completely, on the verge of madness, then suddenly become calm and composed. All were astonished.

Fan Yiweng had earlier seen Yang Guo’s grief and vomiting of blood and had secretly felt sorry for him. He truly had no wish to take his life. Swinging the steel staff, he stirred a fierce wind that set Yang Guo’s robes fluttering. He said loudly, “Little brother, go quickly!” Gongsun, the Valley Master, frowned. “Yiweng, why this endless dithering?” Seeing his shifu issue a strict command, Fan Yiweng had no choice but to shake out the steel staff and strike fiercely at Yang Guo’s shin.

Gongsun Lü’e knew well that her eldest shixiong’s martial skill was astonishing. Though his body stood no taller than four chi, he possessed heaven-born divine strength, and his martial arts had already absorbed seventy or eighty percent of their father’s teachings. This steel staff had killed many fierce and savage beasts. She expected that Yang Guo, young as he was, could never withstand her eldest shixiong’s eighty-one stances of the Water-Splashing Staff Technique.⁴⁸ Once the two had exchanged blows, rescue would be difficult. Though she saw her father’s face hard with frost, his expression one of extreme fury, she still mustered her courage and stepped forward. “Young Master Yang,” she said to Yang Guo, “staying here longer will do you no good. Why throw away your life for nothing?” Her tone was gentle, filled with concern and care.

Guoshi and the others all turned to look at her, secretly marvelling. Each thought, “Yang Guo entered the valley at the same time as the rest of us. How did he secretly form a friendship with this girl?”

Yang Guo nodded and smiled. “Many thanks for your kind concern, miss. Would you like to use a long beard to braid a plait to play with?” Gongsun Lü’e froze. “What?” Yang Guo said, “I’ll pluck this dwarf’s beard and give it to you to play with. How about that?” Gongsun Lü’e was terrified. To dare such a joke, was he truly tired of living? Discipline in the Passionless Valley was extremely strict. In urging Yang Guo with those few words, she had already risked a severe punishment from her father. Who could have known it would provoke such wild talk from him? Her face flushed red. Not daring to say another word, she retreated into the ranks of the disciples.

Fan Yiweng was short in stature and had always been exceedingly proud of his beard. Hearing Yang Guo’s flippant insult, he suddenly threw down the steel staff and leaped forward. “Fine, you whelp!” he roared. “Taste my beard first!” With the shout, his long beard swept toward Yang Guo. Yang Guo laughed. “Old Imp didn’t cut your beard. Let me try.” He drew the great scissors from his pack and snipped swiftly at the beard. Fan Yiweng lashed his beard straight at Yang Guo’s crown with ferocious force. Yang Guo, having devoted careful thought to scissor techniques for fighting Li Mochou, shifted his stance slightly and evaded. The scissor blades snapped back. With a click, they closed. Fan Yiweng was horrified. He flipped away in a somersault. Had he been an instant slower, his entire beard would have been cut off. The shock nearly stopped his heart. The onlookers too let out a collective gasp of surprise.

Li Mochou’s skill with her cloud duster was extraordinary. Yang Guo, intending to defeat her with the great scissors, had carefully thought through every detail in advance. How her duster would coil, how the scissors would thrust, how the duster would strike, how the scissors would clamp. He had never expected that instead of Li Mochou, he would encounter this dwarf who used his beard as a weapon here in the Passionless Valley. Yang Guo thought, “Your beard technique, however formidable, can never surpass Li Mochou’s cloud duster.” With fury and desperation driving him, he pressed the attack with the great scissors. Fan Yiweng had trained his beard for over ten years. With both palms free to assist, it was even more formidable than an ordinary soft whip or cloud duster. Shaking his head and swaying his neck, he drove his beard while simultaneously launching palm strikes at Yang Guo.

Earlier, when Zhou Botong had used the great scissors to cut Fan Yiweng’s beard, his beard had instead coiled around the scissors, forcing Zhou Botong to concede. Everyone had witnessed Zhou Botong’s skill and judged themselves far beneath him. Yet now Yang Guo wielded those same great scissors, cutting and clamping, twisting and dancing, with technique that actually surpassed Old Imp’s handling. All were astonished. In terms of pure martial ability, Yang Guo was of course far inferior to Zhou Botong. But he had carefully studied Li Mochou’s cloud duster techniques beforehand and devised scissor techniques to counter them. Fan Yiweng’s beard happened to be used in much the same way as a cloud duster. Wielding the scissors thus came naturally to Yang Guo, giving him a great advantage. Compared to Zhou Botong, who had simply grabbed the great scissors and snipped and clamped at random with no systematic approach, the difference was enormous. Jinlun Guoshi and the others did not know the reason. They had only seen Old Imp hand the great scissors to Yang Guo and assumed that, given Zhou Botong’s personality, this bizarre, playful weapon must have been his own whimsical creation. That Yang Guo excelled with the sword was something Guoshi already knew well.

Fan Yiweng narrowly avoided the scissors several times. His contempt for Yang Guo as young and incapable vanished at once. He changed his technique, whirling his beard in wild circles, striking from all eight directions. Vertical sweeps and horizontal slashes, it had indeed become a systematic style. Yang Guo snapped the scissors repeatedly but caught only air. He also saw that his opponent’s palm wind was fierce and penetrating. Sometimes the beard was a feint and the palm strike the real attack. Sometimes the palm technique lured while the beard seized the opening to strike. Real and feint intertwined, a marvellous martial technique never before seen in the jianghu. After several dozen exchanges, Yang Guo thought, “This Valley Master is sinister and ruthless. His martial skill must far surpass this dwarf’s. If I cannot defeat the disciple, how can I challenge the master?” A faint anxiety stirred in his heart. But Fan Yiweng’s beard was both long and thick, far larger than Li Mochou’s cloud duster. Spread out in attack, it truly had no openings.

After several more exchanges, Yang Guo fixed his gaze on his opponent. He saw the man shaking his head and swaying his neck with a comical expression. The faster he wielded his beard, the more vigorously that round little head bobbed. An idea stirred. He had found the counter. With a click of the scissors, he leaped back half a zhang and called, “Hold!” Fan Yiweng did not pursue. “Little brother,” he said, “since you concede, you had best leave the valley quickly.” Yang Guo smiled and shook his head. “Once this great bush of a beard is trimmed short, how long will it take to grow back?” Fan Yiweng said angrily, “What business is that of yours? My beard has never been cut.” Yang Guo shook his head. “A pity. A pity.” Fan Yiweng said, “What’s a pity?” Yang Guo said, “Within three moves, I will cut your great beard off. You are not a bad man. If you are afraid, it is not too late to withdraw now.”

Fan Yiweng thought, “You and I have already exchanged several dozen moves and it has always been a draw. You think to win in three moves? Humph, dreaming.” He roared, “Watch this!” He chopped with his right palm. Yang Guo blocked with his left hand while the right-hand scissors smashed down toward the opponent’s left temple. Being tall, when attacking the head or face, the scissors came from above. Fan Yiweng tilted his head to dodge. He never expected Yang Guo’s left palm to follow, chopping at his right temple. This chop was ferocious in power. Fan Yiweng hurriedly tilted his head the other way. The opponent’s strike was fast. His dodge was equally swift. His long beard swung up with the motion. Yang Guo’s great scissors had long been spread open, waiting on the right. With a click, they cut off more than a chi of beard.

Everyone gasped “Ah!”, all deeply astonished. They had seen him, in only three moves, shear off Fan Yiweng’s beard.

After fighting for so long, Yang Guo had finally discovered the truth: when Fan Yiweng’s beard swept left, his head must first turn right. When the beard struck upward, the head must first dip down. He cursed himself for his stupidity. “His beard grows on his head. If he wants to swing the beard, naturally he must first move his head. Instead of striking at the root, I kept tangling with his beard. A complete fool.” Having settled on the strategy of striking the head to cut the beard, he had declared he would cut it in three moves.

Fan Yiweng stood frozen. He watched the beard he had spent half a lifetime cultivating drift to the floor strand by strand, filled with both regret and fury. In one bound, he seized the steel staff and roared, “Today, unless we fight to the death, do not think of leaving this valley.” Yang Guo laughed. “I never wanted to leave in the first place.” Fan Yiweng swept the steel staff horizontally at his waist.

Ma Guangzuo, who had suffered greatly in his earlier tussle with Fan Yiweng, was now enormously pleased. He shouted, “Old Dwarf! Your looks were never good to begin with. Without that great bush of beard, you’re even more of a freak.” Fan Yiweng ground his teeth and added another thirty percent of power to his strike.

Yang Guo had been grappling with the soft force of the beard throughout their fight and did not know Fan Yiweng’s brute strength. Seeing the steel staff sweep toward him, he extended the scissors to block. With a deafening clang, his arm went numb. The scissors were bent out of shape by the steel staff, ruined beyond use. In that single exchange, the great scissors had become useless. The onlookers had seen Yang Guo already victorious, but with the change of weapons, the balance of power instantly reversed. Fan Yiweng now wielded a long, heavy, and formidable weapon, while Yang Guo held a piece of scrap metal. Gongsun Lü’e could not help crying out, “Young Master Yang! You cannot match my eldest shixiong’s strength. Why continue fighting?”

Gongsun, the Valley Master, seeing his daughter repeatedly defend an outsider, felt his anger swell. He glared at her and saw her face filled with concern and anxiety. Then he looked at Xiaolongnü and saw her expression calm and indifferent, as though Yang Guo’s safety weighed not at all on her mind. At once, his anger turned to joy. He thought to himself, “So she has no feelings for this boy after all. Otherwise, seeing him in mortal danger, how could she not care?” What he did not know was that Xiaolongnü had always understood Yang Guo’s resourcefulness and knew his martial skill surpassed Fan Yiweng’s. In a fight between the two, Yang Guo could not lose. Thus she felt not the slightest worry.

Yang Guo tossed the twisted, ruined scissors to the ground and said, “Old Fan, you are no match for me. Throw down that steel staff and surrender quickly.” Fan Yiweng raged, “If you can defeat my steel staff, I will dash my head against the wall and die!” Yang Guo said, “A pity. A pity.” Fan Yiweng roared, “Watch this!” He brought the staff down in “Mount Tai Bears Down on the Peak,”⁴⁹ crashing toward Yang Guo’s head. Yang Guo sidestepped and planted his left foot on the staff tip. Fan Yiweng shook the staff violently with both hands, trying to throw him off. Yang Guo rose with the staff, carried into the air, yet his left foot remained planted steadily upon it. Fan Yiweng shook again and again but could not dislodge him. He tried to invert the staff, but Yang Guo stepped forward with his right foot and actually walked along the shaft.

These strange moves were, in the eyes of Fan Yiweng and the onlookers, utterly unimaginable. In truth, they were the standard methods of the Ancient Tomb Sect, using supreme qinggong to defeat long, heavy weapons. Years ago, when Li Mochou had fought Wu Santong outside the abandoned kiln in Jiaxing, she had stood on the chestnut trunk he used as a weapon, and Wu Santong could never shake her off, that was this very technique. While Fan Yiweng stood frozen in shock, Yang Guo took another step forward with his left foot and kicked with his right at Fan Yiweng’s nose. Fan Yiweng was in a wretched position. The enemy was attached to his steel staff. If he leaped backward to evade, he would inevitably bring the enemy with him, and this kick could not be dodged. With both hands gripping the staff, he had no way to block. And with his beard cut, he had lost a defensive weapon. In desperation, he had no choice but to throw down the steel staff and leap back to avoid the kick. With a clang, one end of the staff struck the ground. Before the other end could fall, Yang Guo had already snatched it up.

Ma Guangzuo, Nimoxing, Xiaoxiang Zi, and the others roared in approval. Yang Guo stamped the steel staff on the ground and laughed. “Well?” Fan Yiweng’s face swelled crimson. “I was careless for a moment and fell for your trick,” he said. “I do not accept this.” Yang Guo said, “Let us go again.” He tossed the steel staff lightly toward him. Fan Yiweng reached out to catch it. But when the staff was still two chi from his hands, it suddenly leaped upward. Fan Yiweng grasped empty air. Yang Guo flew forward with extended arm and seized it again. Ma Guangzuo and the others cheered even louder. Fan Yiweng’s face turned the colour of purple soy paste.

Jinlun Guoshi and Yin Kexi exchanged a smile, inwardly praising Yang Guo’s cleverness. The day before, Zhou Botong had hurled a broken spear at someone, sending out force and instantly withdrawing it, so that the spearhead changed direction in mid-flight. Now Yang Guo had learned this technique. But a spearhead had four sides while a steel staff had only one. The staff was heavy, making the transfer of force less difficult. Yang Guo’s feat was far easier than Zhou Botong’s. But Gongsun, the Valley Master, and his disciples did not know the reason and could not help being greatly astonished.

Yang Guo laughed. “Well? Shall we try once more?” Fan Yiweng had lost his beard and lost his staff, both times through the opponent’s use of clever strategy. To admit defeat, how could he accept it? He said loudly, “If you defeat me through genuine ability, I will naturally submit.” Yang Guo smiled faintly. “In the study of martial arts, cleverness comes first. Your master’s mind is unclear, naturally, the disciples he produces are inferior. I advise you, you would do better to switch to a wise teacher.” These words were clearly aimed at Gongsun, the Valley Master, cursing him to his face.

Fan Yiweng thought, “My learning is shallow. I have shamed my shifu. If I truly cannot win, today I have no choice but to cut my own throat to apologize to Master.” Gritting his teeth, he lunged forward. Yang Guo held the steel staff horizontally and placed it in his hands, saying, “This time, be more careful. If I take it from you again, you can blame no one else.” Fan Yiweng said nothing. His right hand gripped the staff end tightly. He thought, “If he takes this staff again, he will have to cut off this arm of mine first.” Yang Guo shouted, “Careful!” He threw himself forward. His left hand clamped onto the staff tip. The index and middle fingers of his right hand shot toward Fan Yiweng’s eyes. At the same moment, his left foot flipped up and pressed down on the staff shaft. This was the ultimate technique of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique[^dagoubangfa]: “The Mastiff Snatches the Staff.”⁵⁰ Fan Yiweng had no choice but to retreat. The steel staff was once again in Yang Guo’s hands.

The first two times Yang Guo had taken the staff, the onlookers had found his technique strange but had seen it clearly. This time, even Fan Yiweng did not understand the mystery. In the blink of an eye, the staff was once again in the enemy’s grasp.

Ma Guangzuo shouted, “Beardless Long Beard! Do you submit now?” Fan Yiweng cried, “He uses sorcery, not genuine martial skill! How can I submit?” Yang Guo laughed. “What would it take for you to submit?” Fan Yiweng said, “Unless you defeat me through real ability, this old man will not concede.” Yang Guo returned the steel staff to him once more. “Very well. Let us try a few more moves.”

Fan Yiweng deeply dreaded his wondrous art of empty-handed staff seizure. He thought, “No matter how much of an advantage I gain, the moment I cannot hold him off, he will simply use sorcery to seize the staff again. I can never defeat him.” So he said, “I use such a long, heavy weapon while you are empty-handed. Even if you win, you would not accept it.” Yang Guo laughed. “You are afraid of my empty-hand-against-blade technique. Very well, I shall use a weapon.” His gaze swept the great hall. The four walls were utterly bare of furnishings. There was not a single usable weapon to be found. But in the courtyard grew two great willow trees, their branches trailing gracefully, draped in green and dangling in emerald. He glanced at Xiaolongnü and said, “You wish to be surnamed Liu. I shall use a willow branch as my weapon.”⁵¹ He leaped into the courtyard and broke off a willow branch roughly an inch in diameter and about four chi in length, similar in length and thickness to a Beggar Clan dog-beating staff. He left the willow leaves on, adding a touch of elegance.

Xiaolongnü’s heart was a tangled chaos. She had no idea what the future held. The longer Yang Guo remained before her eyes, the harder it was to sever the bond. When she had pondered alone, though parting from Yang Guo was unbearably painful, she had thought that this act of sacrificing herself for her beloved was entirely for Yang Guo’s sake. Once it was done, it was done. If she could not bear it, she would simply die. But now, with this person alive and present before her eyes, she felt that his every word and action, every smile and every flash of anger, all of it stirred her heart and moved her spirit beyond control. She wanted to go inside, to neither hear nor see. Yet how could she bear to leave? She lowered her head in silence, but inside, it was as though a thousand steel blades were twisting and gouging.

杨过 – Yáng Guò. His name meaning “fault or transgression”; his courtesy name Gaizhi means “to correct it”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
情花 – Qínghuā. Flower of the Passionless Valley whose thorns poison those who entertain thoughts of love. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
绝情谷 – Juéqíng Gǔ. Hidden valley ruled by Gongsun Zhi, known for its deadly Passion Flowers and the Passionless Divine Palm technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
小龙女 – Xiǎolóngnǚ. Literally little dragon maiden. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
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. ↩
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. ↩
十二个时辰 – Twelve shichen. Shí’èr ge shíchén. Full day in traditional Chinese timekeeping. One shíchén equals two modern hours, so twelve shíchén is twenty-four hours. ↩
周伯通 – Zhōu Bótōng. His name meaning “elder who understands all”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
烧烽火戏弄诸侯 – Beacon fires to toy with feudal lords. Reference to King You of Zhou (周幽王), who repeatedly lit beacon fires to summon his feudal lords with false alarms of invasion, solely to amuse his favourite consort Bao Si, who never smiled. When real invaders came, no lords responded, and the Western Zhou dynasty fell. Idiom “one smile topples a kingdom” originates from this story. ↩
一笑倾城，再笑倾国 – One smile topples a city, a second smile topples a kingdom. Yī xiào qīng chéng, zài xiào qīng guó. Idiom describing a woman of devastating beauty. Originates from the Book of Han, describing the Han dynasty consort Li Furen. ↩
祖宗十八代广积阴功 – Eighteen generations of ancestors building hidden merit. Hyperbolic expression meaning extraordinary accumulated good karma across many generations. In Chinese folk belief, hidden merit (yīngōng, 阴功) refers to good deeds done in secret, which bring blessings to one’s descendants. ↩
程英 – Chéng Yīng. Her name meaning “heroine” or “outstanding”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
陆无双 – Lù Wúshuāng. Her name meaning “peerless” or “without equal”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
完颜萍 – Wányán Píng. Her name meaning “duckweed”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
倾国 vs 倾谷 – The wrong character — ‘kingdom’ should be ‘valley’. Pun by Yang Guo. Idiom is 倾国倾城 (qīng guó qīng chéng), where 国 (guó) means “kingdom.” Yang Guo substitutes the homophonous 谷 (gǔ), meaning “valley,” teasingly suggesting that Gongsun Lü’e’s smile could topple the Passionless Valley itself. ↩
丈 – zhàng. Traditional Chinese unit of length, about 3.3 metres. Ten chi make one zhang. ↩
不怕绝子绝孙么 – Afraid of having my line cut off. Bù pà juézǐ juésūn ma. Literally “not afraid of cutting off sons and grandsons.” A colloquial curse. Yang Guo is teasing that offending a beauty would bring such a curse upon him. ↩
公孙止 – Gōngsūn Zhǐ. His name meaning “to cease” or “to stop”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
公孙绿萼 – Gōngsūn Lǜ’è. Her name meaning “green calyx”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
马光佐 – Mǎ Guāngzuò. His name meaning “bright assistance”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
尹克西 – Yǐn Kèxī. His name meaning “overcome the west”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
关洛之间 – Between the Pass and the Luo River. Guān Luò zhījiān. Refers to the region between Tong Pass (潼关) and the Luo River (洛水), roughly the area where Shaanxi and Henan provinces meet. Historically strategic region. ↩
尺 – chǐ. Traditional Chinese unit of length, about a third of a metre. Ten chi make one zhang. ↩
五岳朝天 – Five prominences reaching toward heaven. Wǔyuè cháotiān. Physiognomic term describing a face where the forehead, nose, chin, and both cheekbones are prominent and upward-tending, considered an unusual and striking appearance in Chinese face-reading tradition. ↩
潇湘子 – Xiāoxiāng Zǐ. Literally Master of the Xiao and Xiang rivers. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
唐玄宗 – Táng Xuánzōng. Reigned 712—756 CE. His reign marked both the peak of Tang dynasty culture and the catastrophic An Lushan Rebellion. Tianbao (天宝) era (742—756) was the latter period of his reign, associated with his infatuation with Yang Guifei and the subsequent decline of the dynasty. ↩
杨贵妃 (Yáng Guìfēi). Yang Guifei (719–756 CE), the “Imperial Consort Yang,” one of the Four Great Beauties of ancient China. She was originally the wife of Emperor Xuanzong’s son before the emperor took her as his own consort. ↩
内力 – nèilì. Literally internal force. Kinetic manifestation of cultivated qi. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
杨国忠 – Yáng Guózhōng. (d. 756). Cousin of Yang Guifei who rose to become Chancellor of the Tang dynasty. His corruption and incompetence, combined with his rivalry with General An Lushan, helped trigger the catastrophic An Lushan Rebellion. ↩
樊一翁 – Fán Yīwēng. His name meaning “Fan, the one old man”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
李莫愁 – Lǐ Mòchóu. Her name meaning “do not sorrow”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
斤 – jīn. Traditional Chinese unit of weight, approximately one pound or half a kilogram. ↩
人皮面具 – Human-skin mask. Rénpí miànjù. Disguise mask crafted to look like real human skin, capable of transforming the wearer’s appearance completely. Huang Yaoshi is known for crafting these. Yang Guo received his from Cheng Ying. ↩
左右互搏 – Zuǒyòu Hùbó. Zhou Botong’s technique of fighting with each hand independently. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
大陵穴 – Great Mound acupoint. Dàlíng xué. Pericardium-7 (PC7) in acupuncture, located at the wrist crease. Striking this acupoint can disable the hand and wrist. ↩
拍大麦 – Pat the wheat. Pāi dàmài. Traditional Chinese children’s clapping game, similar to “pat-a-cake.” Zhou Botong’s recitation while slapping Fan Yiweng’s hand reflects his childlike, playful nature. ↩
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. ↩
赤练蛇 – Red-banded snake. Chìliàn shé. Zhou Botong is mocking Yin Kexi’s colourful whip by comparing it to a red-banded snake, a venomous snake species. This is also a subtle reference to Li Mochou, whose nickname is “Scarlet Serpent” (赤练仙子). ↩
空明拳 – Kōngmíng Quán. Zhou Botong’s signature fist technique, created during his fifteen years of solitary confinement on Peach Blossom Island. Style emphasizes emptiness and softness, redirecting force rather than meeting it directly. ↩
续弦 – Xùxián. Literally “restring the instrument.” A classical Chinese euphemism for a widower remarrying. Valley Master’s first wife has died. ↩
柳叶刀 – Liǔyè Dāo. Literally willow leaf blade. Thin, curved single-edged saber named for its shape, widely favoured in the jianghu for its lightness and sharp cutting edge. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
“Because my surname is Yang”. Yang Guo’s surname 杨 (Yáng) and the willow 柳 (Liǔ) are both types of trees, creating a subtle poetic connection. In Chinese culture, willows and poplars are often paired in poetry and art. ↩
走火 – Zǒuhuǒ. Dangerous condition in internal martial arts where the practitioner’s qi deviates from its proper channels, often caused by emotional disturbance during meditation. Can be fatal without intervention. ↩
里 – lǐ. Traditional Chinese unit of distance, approximately one-third of a mile or five hundred metres. ↩
黄蓉 – Huáng Róng. Her name meaning “lotus” or “hibiscus”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
郭靖 – Guō Jìng. His name meaning “tranquillity” or “pacification”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
丹田 – dāntián. Cinnabar field, a key energy centre in the body in Daoist internal alchemy and Chinese martial arts. Lower dantian, below the navel, is the primary centre for storing and cultivating qi. ↩
泼水杖法 – Pōshuǐ Zhàngfǎ. Staff technique of the Passionless Valley. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
泰山压顶 – Tàishān Yādǐng. Literally “Mount Tai presses down on the summit.” A martial arts technique named after the most sacred of China’s Five Great Mountains, evoking overwhelming downward force. ↩
獒口夺杖 – Áo Kǒu Duó Zhàng. Advanced technique from the Dog-Beating Staff Technique. Move mimics a mastiff snatching a staff from an opponent’s grip with its jaws — sudden, fierce, and irresistible. ↩
柳枝 – Liǔzhī. Yang Guo’s choice of a willow branch as a weapon is multiply meaningful. ↩

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