The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 20

What Makes a True Hero.

Yang Guo¹ had intended to stay out of this conflict, but seeing Gongsun Zhi²’s savage brutality, a surge of fury rose within him. He was about to step forward and confront the man when Xiaolongnü³ had already rushed over, helped Qiu Qianchi⁴ to her feet, and pressed on the yuzhen acupoint at the back of her head to stop the bleeding.⁵ Then, tearing a strip from her dress to bind the wound, she turned to Gongsun Zhi and shouted, “Master Gongsun, she is your original wife. Why do you treat her this way? If you already have a wife, why did you seek to marry me? Even if I had married you, would you not one day treat me as you have treated her?”

These three questions struck with devastating force. Gongsun Zhi’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came. Ma Guangzuo⁶ could not help but cheer loudly. Xiaoxiangzi said coolly, “This young lady speaks well.”

Gongsun Zhi harboured a true, obsessive love for Xiaolongnü. Though her questions left him speechless, his expression was merely one of embarrassment, he felt no anger. In a low, humble voice, he said, “Sister Liu, how can you compare yourself to that vicious shrew? I fear only that I do not love you enough. If I bear you the slightest ill will, may Heaven strike me down and Earth destroy me.” Xiaolongnü replied coolly, “You have shown me no end of ill will. In all the world, I want only my Yang Lang to love me.⁷ Even if you loved me a hundred times more, it would only increase my loathing.” As she spoke, she walked over and took Yang Guo’s hand.

Yang Guo was overcome with indignation. Gugu⁸ treats me so, and yet I have only days left to live, all because of you, you villainous cur. Pointing at Gongsun Zhi, he shouted, “You say you bear my Gugu no ill will. Hah! You trapped me in a death pit, then deceived her into marrying you, is that goodwill? She was poisoned by the Passion Flower, and you knew there was no cure, yet you never told her, is that goodwill?” Xiaolongnü started in alarm and said in a trembling voice, “Is that true?” Yang Guo said, “It does not matter. You have already taken the antidote.” He gave a faint smile, a smile both sorrowful and joyful, thinking, I gave the antidote to you. I am willing to die for you.

Gongsun Zhi looked at Qiu Qianchi, then at Xiaolongnü and Yang Guo. His gaze swept across the three faces. Jealousy, lust, fury, regret, disappointment, shame, every passion churned within him. Though normally a man of considerable composure, he now seemed on the verge of madness. Suddenly he bent down, drew the Yin-Yang Dual Blades from beneath the red carpet, and clashed them together with a ringing clang. “Fine! Fine!” he cried. “Today, we all perish together!” No one had imagined that beneath the ceremonial wedding carpet, the very symbol of marital union, he had hidden deadly weapons. A collective gasp rose from the assembly.

Xiaolongnü gave a cold laugh. “Guoer, I regret sparing the life of such a wicked man.” With a ringing qianglang, she too drew forth a pair of swords from beneath her bridal red gown, the Gentleman Sword and the Lady Sword.⁹ Though she knew little of worldly affairs, she showed no mercy when dealing with those she truly hated. She had once avenged Granny Sun by cutting a bloody swath through the Quanzhen Daoists of Chongyang Palace, nearly taking the life of Hao Datong, Master of Guangning.¹⁰ Today, Gongsun Zhi had prevented her reunion with Yang Guo. She had already resolved to fight to the death. That was why she had concealed the twin swords beneath her wedding gown, she planned to wait until Gongsun Zhi had healed Yang Guo, then strike at the opportune moment. If she could not prevail, she would take her own life rather than surrender her chastity in Passionless Valley¹¹.

The wedding guests watched in astonishment as the newlywed couple revealed that each had hidden blades beneath their ceremonial robes. Only a few discerning observers, such as the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor, had long anticipated that this wedding feast would end in bloodshed.¹² They were, however, greatly puzzled that Qiu Qianchi had collapsed after a single blow, a stark contrast to the profound neili¹³ she had displayed earlier.

Yang Guo took the Gentleman Sword from Xiaolongnü’s hand. “Gugu,” he said, “today we kill this wretch and avenge me.” Xiaolongnü shook the Lady Sword and asked, puzzled, “Avenge you?” Yang Guo secretly felt a pang of sorrow but knew he could not explain. He simply said, “This murderous villain has harmed countless people.” With a flick of the longsword, he thrust directly at Gongsun Zhi’s left flank. He knew this battle would be perilous in the extreme. Though the Passion Flower poison in Xiaolongnü’s body had been neutralised, his own poisoning was deep. If they joined their swords to execute the Pure-hearted Jade Maiden Swordplay, the moment true feeling stirred between them, the agony would be unbearable.¹⁴ And so, keeping his eyes fixed squarely on his opponent, he deployed the Quanzhen Swordplay, stance by stance, form by form, with meticulous discipline.¹⁵ When performed by veteran Daoists like Ma Yu or Qiu Chuji, this sword style was steady and dignified, rich with weight and ancient simplicity. In Yang Guo’s hands, however, it could not help but appear precociously mature, slightly stiff, a young man trying to look old.

Gongsun Zhi knew well the deadly power of their two-sword combination. He opened at once with the Yin-Yang Reversed Blade Technique, black sword in his right hand, golden saber in his left, his moves fierce and relentless beyond compare.¹⁶ Yang Guo’s Quanzhen Swordplay, though originally created by Wang Chongyang, lacked the ferocity of his opponent’s style but excelled in subtlety and nuance.¹⁷ Yang Guo defended without attacking, parrying three of his moves. With a sharp cry, Xiaolongnü thrust the Lady Sword at Gongsun Zhi’s back.

Gongsun Zhi burned with hatred and humiliation. This flower-like girl was to be my bride, and now she joins another to attack me. Then he thought, That venomous crone appeared without warning and exposed the past. My prestige is shattered, my face utterly lost. Not only can I no longer force Sister Liu into marriage, even my dominion over Passionless Valley is at risk. He relied on his superb martial skill. Though faced with a thorny dilemma today, he would still stake everything on force of arms. If he could defeat Yang Guo, he would seize Xiaolongnü and flee far away. He did not know that Xiaolongnü had already taken the Passion Severing Pill antidote. He still believed she had only thirty-six days left to live. But within those thirty-six days, he was determined to make her his wife. The more twisted his thoughts grew, the fiercer and more savage his Reversed Blade Technique became.

Xiaolongnü wielded the Jade Maiden Swordplay, waiting for the moment when her heart and Yang Guo’s would connect, when the full power of the Pure-hearted Swordplay could blossom.¹⁸ But Yang Guo’s gaze never once turned toward her. He merely swung his sword and fought on his own. Xiaolongnü found this very strange and asked, “Guoer, why won’t you look at me?” As tender feeling stirred in her heart, her sword-light suddenly flared brighter. The sound of her voice struck Yang Guo like a bolt, instantly, a violent pain seized his chest. His sword moves slowed. Shhh, the black sword slashed through his sleeve. Xiaolongnü cried out in alarm and launched three swift thrusts. shua, shua, shua, forcing Gongsun Zhi back. Yang Guo said, “I cannot look at you. I cannot even hear you speak.” In a soft, gentle voice, Xiaolongnü asked, “Why?” Fearing further danger, Yang Guo answered roughly, “If you want me dead, then go ahead and speak to me!” His anger flared, and the pain subsided at once. He took over every move of Gongsun Zhi’s black sword.

Xiaolongnü did not understand the reason, but as his wife, she knew she must obey. Softly, she said, “Don’t be angry. I won’t speak anymore.” Then a thought stirred: Ah, my poison is cured, but he never took the antidote! He obtained the cure, but instead of taking it himself, he gave it to me. Deep gratitude welled up within her, mixed with deep tenderness. With this surge of emotion, the power of the Jade Maiden Pure-hearted Swordplay swelled. Each move she delivered now shielded every vital point on Yang Guo’s body. Normally, when she guarded Yang Guo, he would in turn defend against the enemy’s attacks on her. But since he dared not glance sideways, she was left entirely unguarded, vulnerable to attack from every angle.

Gongsun Zhi’s eyes were razor-sharp. Within a few exchanges, he had spotted the flaw. But he would not harm a single hair on Xiaolongnü’s head. Every slash of his saber and thrust of his sword fell fiercely upon Yang Guo alone. His attacks were like raging waves pounding the shore, while the defence was like a steadfast cliff standing firm. With Xiaolongnü protecting Yang Guo with all her might, even after several dozen moves, Gongsun Zhi could gain no advantage at all.

By now, Lü’e had regained consciousness and stood beside her mother, watching the battle. Seeing how Xiaolongnü shielded Yang Guo with utter disregard for her own safety, she could not help but ask herself: If it were me, in this moment between life and death, could I also forget myself to protect him? She sighed softly. I could certainly treat him as Miss Long does. But he would never, ever treat me the same way.

Just then, Qiu Qianchi cried out in a hoarse voice, “The false saber is no saber! The false sword is no sword!” Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü both started. They could not grasp her meaning. Qiu Qianchi called out again: “The saber is the saber! The sword is the sword!”

Yang Guo had fought Gongsun Zhi twice before and had been pondering deeply the secrets of the Yin-Yang Reversed Blade Technique. He had observed how the man swung the light, airy black sword with hard, chopping saber strokes, while the heavy, serrated golden saber darted and flew like a sword, its movements the exact opposite of orthodox martial principles. If he simply used the saber as a sword and the sword as a saber throughout, that would be one thing. But the maddening part was that in the blink of an eye, everything would flip again, sword techniques manifesting within saber play, saber techniques lurking within sword strikes, endlessly shifting and impossible to predict. Now, hearing Qiu Qianchi’s sixteen words, Yang Guo thought, Could it be that his saber moves within the sword, and his sword moves within the saber, are all illusions? He saw the black sword sweeping horizontally toward his shoulder, clearly a saber technique. He decided to treat it purely as a sword. The Gentleman Sword thrust out. The two blades met with a zheng, and both men took a step back. Now he understood: at its core, the black sword was still a sword. The saber moves were merely a facade, meant to dazzle and deceive. But against a less skilled opponent who responded incorrectly, those saber moves could still inflict real harm.

His first test a success, Yang Guo’s heart surged with joy. He focused his mind on seeking the flaws in his opponent’s sword and saber techniques. His moves are chaotic, ingenious, yes, but their foundation cannot be pure. After several more exchanges, Qiu Qianchi suddenly called out, “Attack his right leg! Attack his right leg!” Yang Guo saw the golden saber flickering, Gongsun Zhi’s lower body seemingly without any opening. But he reasoned: Qiu Qianchi may have lost the use of her limbs, but the martial knowledge stored in her mind had not diminished in the slightest. Gongsun Zhi’s martial arts were her teaching, she must know their every strength and weakness. He followed her instruction, striking at the opponent’s right leg. Gongsun Zhi swept his saber across to block. The right leg was now secure, but in making that horizontal parry, his left shoulder and left flank were simultaneously exposed. Without waiting for Qiu Qianchi’s next instruction, Yang Guo’s sword flashed out and tore through the clothing beneath Gongsun Zhi’s armpit. Cursing, Gongsun Zhi leaped back. He glared at Qiu Qianchi and roared, “You old beggar woman! Do you think I’ll let you live?” He then thrust sword and saber once more at Yang Guo.

Yang Guo raised his sword to block. Qiu Qianchi called again, “Kick his back!” The two were facing each other directly, kicking his back was plainly impossible. But Yang Guo had developed considerable faith in Qiu Qianchi and knew her words always carried deeper meaning. Without question, he darted toward his opponent’s rear. Gongsun Zhi spun and slashed backward with his saber. Qiu Qianchi cried, “Thrust at his brow!” Yang Guo thought, I just circled behind him, and now you want me to thrust at his brow. The situation was urgent, no time to think. He immediately moved back to the front and was about to thrust at the brow when Qiu Qianchi called again, “Slash his backside!”

Watching from the side, Lü’e’s palms were slick with sweat. She furrowed her brow and thought, Mother’s wild shouting, isn’t she helping Father instead? She kept silent, but Ma Guangzuo could not hold back. “Brother Yang,” he bellowed, “don’t fall for that old hag’s tricks! She’s trying to wear you out!”

But Yang Guo, after dashing back and forth several times, had begun to grasp Qiu Qianchi’s intent. When she called “forward,” he went forward. When she shouted “back,” he immediately circled behind. Sure enough, after several cycles, an opening appeared beneath Gongsun Zhi’s right ribs. Yang Guo’s longsword flickered. shhh, the clothing tore and the sword tip bit an inch into flesh. Blood streamed from Gongsun Zhi’s side.

A collective cry of “Ah!” rose from the crowd as they all stood. The Imperial Preceptor and the others now understood: Qiu Qianchi had not been instructing Yang Guo how to win. She was teaching him how, when victory seemed impossible, to find a path to victory. She was not pointing out flaws in Gongsun Zhi’s techniques, she was teaching Yang Guo how to create flaws within moves that had no flaws. After guiding him several times, Yang Guo grasped the essence of this profound martial principle. Deep admiration filled his heart. When facing a true master, how can there be obvious flaws in their techniques? The guidance of Old Senior Qiu is a lesson to treasure for a lifetime. That Yang Guo grasped it in mere moments, he is quick indeed.

But to force Gongsun Zhi to reveal openings, one needed not only superior martial skill but also intimate knowledge of all his moves, enough to predict, ten moves in advance, every possible variation and response, gradually steering him down the path to error. This only Qiu Qianchi could do. Yang Guo understood the principle but lacked the ability to execute it on his own. Following her instructions, his sword-light flashed fiercely as he launched a furious assault at Gongsun Zhi from every direction. After twenty-some moves, Gongsun Zhi took another wound to the leg.

The cut was not deep, but it left a long gash, nearly five or six cun across. Gongsun Zhi thought, I cannot wound this brat Yang quickly. If this continues, with that old hag directing him, I will die under this scoundrel’s sword. Desperate times call for ruthless measures. Years ago, to save his own life, he had stabbed his beloved to death. Now, with the situation dire, he could no longer spare Xiaolongnü. The black sword flashed. shua, a savage slash at her shoulder.

: Stabbed his beloved to death. This refers to Gongsun Zhi killing his concubine Rou’er to save himself when Qiu Qianchi caught them. See Chapter 19 for the full account.

Yang Guo cried out in alarm and raised his sword to defend her. But he heard Qiu Qianchi shout, “Strike beneath his ribs!” Yang Guo froze. Gugu is under attack, how can I not save her? But Old Senior Qiu’s every instruction carries hidden meaning. Perhaps this is a diversion tactic, besiege Wei to rescue Zhao.¹⁹ The thought had barely formed before his sword arced around, thrusting swiftly at Gongsun Zhi’s right waist. Then he heard Xiaolongnü cry out, her right arm had been wounded. With a qianglang, the Lady Sword fell to the ground. Gongsun Zhi’s black sword swept diagonally, parrying Yang Guo’s blow.

Yang Guo was horrified. He shouted urgently, “Fall back! I’ll handle him alone!” His surge of concern stirred emotion, and pain gripped his chest once more. Xiaolongnü was not lightly wounded. She had no choice but to withdraw, tearing at her gown to bandage the injury. Yang Guo fought on with desperate effort, and his fury at Qiu Qianchi’s misdirection burned. He shot her a venomous glare.

Qiu Qianchi sneered. “What are you blaming me for? I only help you kill the enemy, who said anything about saving people? Hmph. What does that girl’s life or death matter to me? The sooner she dies, the better!” Yang Guo raged, “You husband and wife are a perfect pair, neither of you has a shred of human decency!” Qiu Qianchi merely gave a cold laugh, her expression unchanged, and watched the fierce battle in silence.

Yang Guo stole a sidelong glance at Xiaolongnü. She was leaning against a chair, tearing fabric to dress her wound. It did not seem serious. His spirits lifted, and his sword style suddenly changed, from Quanzhen Swordplay to Jade Maiden Swordplay. Gongsun Zhi watched as his opponent’s swordplay, which had been steady and dignified, abruptly became light, nimble, and graceful, as if a different person had taken his place. Puzzled, he thought, This man is full of tricks. What is he up to now? But as he met the attacks, he felt the sword techniques flowing with power and elegance, unmistakably the mark of a master, the same style Xiaolongnü had just displayed. His suspicions dissolved. Golden saber and black sword pressed the attack together.

After ten-some moves, Yang Guo again found himself losing ground, forced backward step by step by Gongsun Zhi. Qiu Qianchi repeatedly called out instructions, but Yang Guo, furious that she had deliberately wounded Xiaolongnü, acted as though he could not hear her. Who asked for your meddling? Then a memory surfaced: while recovering from his injuries in Cheng Ying’s thatched cottage, he had found a collection of four-character poems by his pillow.²⁰ Bored in bed, he had leafed through it, finding the verses elegant and refreshing. As a martial artist, he connected everything to martial arts. Reading the poems, he had imagined sword techniques to match the lines. At the time, he had hoped to use them against Li Mochou²¹, but the opportunity never came. Now, with the verses rising in his mind, he unleashed four swift strokes. shua, shua, shua, shua, and chanted:

“A fine steed already heard, in splendid dress aglow, Left hand grasps the mighty bow, right hand receives the arrow.”

As he chanted, his sword moves matched the poetry, fluid, graceful, full of style. Gongsun Zhi froze. “What?” he said.

Yang Guo continued:

“Like wind that sweeps, like lightning’s flight, pursuing shadows, chasing light. Sweeping fierce across the plains, glancing back with proud disdain.”

The poems came in four-character lines, and his sword moves came in four-stroke sets. When he chanted “Like wind that sweeps, like lightning’s flight,” his sword moved with astonishing speed. On “Sweeping fierce across the plains, glancing back with proud disdain,” power gave way to elegance. Gongsun Zhi had never seen this style of swordplay. The chanting was pleasing to the ear, and his attacks slowed as he concentrated on grasping the meaning of the verses. He knew the sword techniques matched the poetry, if he could understand the poems, he could break the swordplay.

Yang Guo continued chanting:

“Resting in the orchid fields, grazing steeds on Huashan’s height. Arrows loosed on level banks, fishing lines in rivers bright. Eyes follow the homing geese, hands strum the five-stringed lute.”

These lines were serene and contented, but his swordplay opened wide and grand, pure, majestic, and refined. The final two lines were especially elusive: sword strokes drifting east yet striking west, rising high then falling low, one stance yielding two strikes, impossible to distinguish real from feint.

Xiaolongnü had finished bandaging her wound. Watching Yang Guo’s beautiful swordplay, a style she had never heard him mention, she asked, “Guoer, what swordplay is this? Who taught you?” Yang Guo laughed. “I figured it out myself. Gugu, what do you think? A few days ago, while I was recovering, there was a poetry collection by my bed. I liked this poem and memorised it. At the Heroes’ Feast, Senior Zhu Ziliu turned calligraphy into martial arts.²² I thought, why not turn poetry into martial arts? It should work just as well.” Xiaolongnü said, “It is very fine…”

Suddenly, the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor called out in praise, “Brother Yang, your intelligence and wisdom truly humble this old monk. The next lines must be: ‘Bowing low, raising high, the heart roams the great mystery. I praise that angler on the shore, he catches fish and forgets the weir.’”

Gongsun Zhi’s mind stirred. This monk is guiding me. He did not pause to wonder at the monk’s motives, only thinking: “‘Bowing low, raising high’, after the high strike, a low strike must follow.” He swept the black sword to guard his upper body while the golden saber hacked fiercely at the middle.

The Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor was accomplished in both letters and martial arts. Though he lived in distant Mongolia, he had studied every branch of Han classical learning.²³ Hearing Yang Guo’s poem, he already knew the next lines and spoke them aloud, hoping to use Gongsun Zhi’s hand to eliminate Yang Guo. This time, Gongsun Zhi seized the initiative: before Yang Guo’s sword move could unfold, every path had been blocked, while the serrated golden saber came slashing at his vitals. Fortunately, Yang Guo had also anticipated this move upon hearing the Imperial Preceptor’s recitation. He abandoned his self-created Four-Character Poem Swordplay, held his longsword horizontally to guard his midsection, and with the middle finger of his left hand. zheng, flicked the back of the golden saber.

Gongsun Zhi felt the shock travel up his arm. His tiger’s mouth tingled with numbness. This brat has too many strange techniques, he thought, alarmed. Yang Guo’s flick was none other than the Divine Flicking Finger technique passed down by Huang Yaoshi²⁴.²⁵ His skill was not yet sufficient to defeat an opponent with it, had Huang Yaoshi himself performed that flick, the golden saber would have flown from Gongsun Zhi’s grasp. But even this single flick was enough. Yang Guo’s longsword danced as he switched to Huang Yaoshi’s Jade Flute Swordplay.²⁶ Both the Jade Flute Swordplay and the Divine Flicking Finger focused on striking acupoints. Sword and finger worked in concert, exquisitely subtle, profoundly mysterious. Though Yang Guo’s mastery was still incomplete, his furious assault made Gongsun Zhi struggle to defend. Several times, Gongsun Zhi tried to use his black sword to cut through the opponent’s weapon, but Yang Guo’s Gentleman Sword was also a treasure blade. The two swords clashed, sparks flying, neither could cut the other.

By now, Qiu Qianchi was shouting again from the side: “His sword thrusts at your right waist, his saber chops at your neck!” “His sword slashes your right shoulder, his saber guards his left flank!” She called out every move of Gongsun Zhi’s repertoire before he even made them. With this, Yang Guo could not lose. Though the Yin-Yang Dual Blades were a family art, Qiu Qianchi had refined them, pruning the useless, adding the new, overhauling them thoroughly. Every move Gongsun Zhi made fell entirely within her calculations. No matter how he shifted and varied, she always named his intentions first. At the height of the battle, Qiu Qianchi suddenly shrieked, “His saber and sword both strike your upper body!” The timing of this call was viciously precise. Gongsun Zhi had already committed his weapons, unable to change course mid-strike, while Yang Guo still had room to defend. Yang Guo ducked low and darted forward, his sword guarding his back, while his left finger jabbed an inch and a half below the opponent’s navel, the qihai acupoint.²⁷ His finger struck true. Yang Guo’s heart leaped, surely the enemy was gravely wounded. But Gongsun Zhi launched a flying kick straight at his chin.

Startled, Yang Guo sprang several chi to the side. Only then did he remember, this man could seal his own acupoints.²⁸ In that brief moment of hesitation, Gongsun Zhi’s saber and sword came at him again. Qiu Qianchi shouted, “His sword and saber cross, right sword attacks left, left saber slashes right!” Yang Guo had no time to think and fought back with all his strength.

Judged purely by skill, Yang Guo had long been outmatched. He survived only because Qiu Qianchi anticipated every move, exposing every lethal technique before it could land. By now, the two had traded seven or eight hundred blows. The disciples of the valley watched with hearts pounding in terror, while masters like Xiaoxiangzi were utterly transfixed. Amid the flash of blades and shimmer of swords, Gongsun Zhi gasped for breath, and Yang Guo’s robes were soaked through with sweat. Neither man’s advances or retreats were as agile as before.

Gongsun Lü’e²⁹ thought, If this continues, one of them will surely be wounded. I do not wish Yang Guo defeated, but neither can I bear to see my father harmed. She whispered to Qiu Qianchi, “Mother, tell them to stop. Let everyone hear the rights and wrongs of this matter.”

Qiu Qianchi snorted. “Pour two bowls of tea.” Though her heart was in turmoil, Lü’e obeyed and brought two bowls of tea before her mother. Qiu Qianchi raised her hands and removed the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around her head. When she had struck her head against the pillar, Xiaolongnü had torn her dress to bind the wound. Now, as she removed the cloth, fresh blood flowed from the crown of her head. Lü’e cried out in alarm, “Mother!” Qiu Qianchi said, “I won’t die!” She tossed the bloody cloth onto her lap, then took a tea bowl in each hand, four fingers per bowl, thumbs dipped into the tea. The blood from her fingers dissolved into the liquid. She swirled the bowls gently, and in moments, the blood vanished without a trace. “You’ve both fought hard,” she called. “Drink a bowl of tea before continuing.” To Lü’e, she said, “Take them tea to quench their thirst, one bowl each.”

Lü’e knew the depths of her mother’s hatred for her father. She could not believe this was simple kindness, offering tea to quench his thirst. Whatever the scheme, it likely boded ill for her father. But both bowls had been poured by her own hand, they contained no poison, and both were identical. She reasoned that her mother pitied Yang Guo, but if Father got no tea, he would never stop fighting, and Yang Guo’s bowl would remain undrunk. Both men were clearly exhausted. Taking the tea tray, she walked to the centre of the hall and said clearly, “Please, have some tea.”

Gongsun Zhi and Yang Guo had long been parched with thirst. At Qiu Qianchi’s call, both broke off and leaped apart. Lü’e brought the tray to her father first. Gongsun Zhi thought, This tea was sent at Qiu Qianchi’s command, there must be something wrong with it. It is probably poisoned. He waved his hand and said to Yang Guo, “You drink first.” Without fear, Yang Guo picked up a bowl at random and took a sip. Gongsun Zhi said, “Good, give me that one!” He took the bowl from Yang Guo’s hand. Yang Guo laughed. “Your own daughter poured this tea. Could it possibly contain poison?” He switched bowls and drained his in one gulp.

Gongsun Zhi studied his daughter’s face. Her expression was calm. Lü’er has strong feelings for this boy, he thought. She would never poison the tea. Besides, I’ve already switched bowls with him. What is there to fear? He drank it down in one swallow. Zheng! Saber and sword clashed together. “Let us fight again! Hmph, without that old hag’s guidance, you’d have lost ten lives to my golden saber and black sword already!”

Qiu Qianchi pressed the torn cloth back onto her head wound and said, in a dark, sinister tone, “His Acupoint-Sealing Skill is broken. You may strike his acupoints freely now.”

Gongsun Zhi froze. A faint taste of blood rose from the base of his tongue. The shock that struck him was beyond measure. The family’s secret Acupoint-Sealing Skill had one critical taboo: the practitioner must never consume the slightest trace of meat or blood. A single violation, and the skill would shatter instantly. The ancestors, fearing accidental contamination, had decreed in the sternest terms that no one in the valley should ever eat meat or fish. Even those who did not practice this advanced internal art were forced to maintain a vegetarian diet.³⁰ He had always been meticulously cautious. How could he have imagined that Qiu Qianchi would devise such a venomous scheme, mixing her own blood into the tea? Yang Guo had drunk a bowl of blood-tainted tea without the slightest harm. But Gongsun Zhi’s Acupoint-Sealing Skill, the fruit of a lifetime’s bitter training, was destroyed in an instant.

He turned in a towering rage. Qiu Qianchi sat with a dish of honey dates on her lap, treats meant for the wedding guests, eating with evident relish. Slowly, she said, “Twenty years ago, I already told you: this skill of the Gongsun family is hard to learn and easy to break. Better not to practice it at all.”

Fire seemed about to burst from Gongsun Zhi’s eyes. Raising his saber and sword, he charged at her. Lü’e cried out and rushed to shield her mother. Suddenly, she felt a rush of wind past her ears, as if a hidden weapon had flown by. Gongsun Zhi let out a long, terrible howl. Blood streamed from his right eye. He spun and fled from the hall, saber and sword still clutched in his hands. Drops of blood spattered the floor, forming a crimson trail that led straight to the door. His agonised screams faded into the distance, swallowed at last by the mountain valleys. The guests in the hall looked at one another in bewilderment. No one knew how Qiu Qianchi had wounded him.

Only Yang Guo and Lü’e understood: Qiu Qianchi had used the same technique, spitting date pits from her mouth.³¹

Throughout Yang Guo’s fierce battle with Gongsun Zhi, she had been chewing honey dates, storing seven or eight pits in her mouth. She had seen that Gongsun Zhi’s martial arts had advanced greatly. Even if she launched a pit attack, he would surely dodge it. If the first strike missed and he became vigilant, she would never wound him again. And so, after exhausting him in combat, she had first used the blood-tainted tea to break his Acupoint-Sealing Skill, then struck with the date pits at the moment his fury crested. This was the only martial art she had cultivated through more than ten years of solitary bitter training. Its force and accuracy were a match for any deadly hidden weapon in the world. Had Lü’e not suddenly rushed forward to shield her mother, Gongsun Zhi would have lost both eyes, and a pit through the acupoint at his brow would have killed him on the spot.

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Lü’e’s heart ached with pity. She stood frozen for a moment, then cried, “Father! Father!” She made to chase after him. Qiu Qianchi barked, “If you want your father, go with him, and never let me see your face again.” Lü’e stopped, stunned, torn between two impossible choices. But when she thought about it, this was, after all, her father’s fault. Her mother had suffered far worse than he had. Besides, Father was already far away. She could not catch him now. Slowly, she walked back from the doorway, her head bowed in silence.

Qiu Qianchi sat imperiously in her chair, looking east and west. “Well, well,” she said coldly. “You all came to drink wedding wine today. The wine never reached your lips, how disappointing.” Her icy gaze made everyone’s skin crawl. They feared that at any moment, strange projectiles might fly from her mouth. The valley folk were simply terrified, but the Imperial Preceptor, Yin Kexi³², and the others quietly braced themselves for defence.

Xiaolongnü and Yang Guo had never imagined Gongsun Zhi would meet such an end. They both let out long sighs and reached for each other’s hands, clasping them tightly. Their hearts in accord, they walked shoulder to shoulder toward the door. They had just reached the threshold when Qiu Qianchi suddenly roared, “Yang Guo! Where do you think you’re going?”

Yang Guo turned and bowed low from the waist. “Old Senior Qiu, Miss Gongsun, we take our leave.” He knew his own days were numbered and said nothing of “meeting again.”

Lü’e returned the courtesy in silence, her face full of sorrow. Qiu Qianchi’s face was a mask of fury. “I have betrothed my only daughter to you,” she thundered. “Why do you neither call me mother-in-law nor linger even a moment longer?”

Yang Guo was taken aback. You may have betrothed your daughter to me, but I never accepted. Qiu Qianchi continued, “Bridal gifts are ready, lamps and candles are lit, and many guests have assembled. We martial artists need no fussy formalities. You two will be married today.”

The Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor and the others had witnessed Yang Guo fight to the death several times for Xiaolongnü’s sake. Hearing Qiu Qianchi’s words, they knew another storm was brewing. They exchanged glances, some smiled, some gently shook their heads.

His left arm around Xiaolongnü, his right hand resting on the Gentleman Sword’s hilt, Yang Guo said, “Old Senior Qiu, your kindness is great, and your daughter has shown me profound grace. I am deeply grateful. But my heart belongs to another. I am truly not a suitable match for your daughter.” He retreated slowly as he spoke, fearing that in her rage, Qiu Qianchi might suddenly spray date pits, hence his hand on the sword, ready to defend.

Qiu Qianchi shot a venomous glare at Xiaolongnü and said coldly, “Heh. This little fox-spirit is indeed breathtakingly beautiful. No wonder the old one was bewitched and the young one is smitten.”³³ Lü’e said, “Mother, Brother Yang and Miss Long were already pledged to each other. Let me tell you the whole story later, slowly.” Qiu Qianchi spat at her in fury. “Pei! What do you take your mother for? Do you think I go back on my word? Yang, don’t tell me my daughter isn’t beautiful enough for you. Even if she were hideous, today I will have you marry her.”

Ma Guangzuo, hearing this outrageous declaration, could not help but roar with laughter. “The married couple in this valley are truly a pair of clowns!” he boomed. “The husband forces another man’s girl to marry him, and the wife forces another woman’s boy to marry her daughter! What if he doesn’t want to, can you make him?”

“No,” said Qiu Qianchi coldly. Ma Guangzuo threw his head back and laughed. Suddenly. po, a date pit shot toward his brow, swift as lightning, impossible to dodge. Ma Guangzuo jerked his head up in shock. Pak! The pit knocked out three of his front teeth. Enraged, Ma Guangzuo roared and lunged at her. Po-po! Two more pits struck simultaneously, his right leg’s huantiao acupoint and his left foot’s yangguan acupoint.³⁴ Both legs gave way, and he crashed to the ground, unable to rise.

Those three date pits had flown impossibly fast, as swift and sudden as a thunderclap. Yang Guo, knowing Qiu Qianchi would strike when Ma Guangzuo laughed, had drawn his sword to intervene, but he was too late. He hurried over, helped Ma Guangzuo up, and unsealed his acupoints. Ma Guangzuo, to his credit, accepted defeat readily. Seeing this bald old woman, without moving hand or foot, knock him down with just her mouth, he was filled with genuine admiration. He spat out his three front teeth, his mouth full of blood, and said, “Old hag, you’re better than me. Old Ma won’t dare offend you again.”

Qiu Qianchi ignored him entirely. She fixed her glare on Yang Guo. “You absolutely refuse to marry my daughter. Is that right?”

Gongsun Lü’e, publicly humiliated, could bear it no longer. She drew the dagger from her waist and pressed its tip to her own chest. “Mother!” she cried. “Ask one more question, and your daughter will die before your eyes!” Qiu Qianchi’s mouth opened. po, a date pit shot forth, striking the dagger at an angle. The force was tremendous. The blade flew sideways and embedded itself deep in a wooden pillar, its hilt still quivering in the candlelight. A collective gasp, everyone drew a sharp breath.

Yang Guo decided that staying would only mean wasted words. He flicked his finger against his sword blade, and riding the ringing weng-weng of the vibrating steel, he chanted clearly:

“Lonely, lonely the white hare, East it runs, then west it stares. Clothes are better when they’re new, But people, old friends see you through.”³⁵

He traced a sword-flower in the air and, holding Xiaolongnü’s hand, turned and walked away.

Hearing the lines “Clothes are better when they’re new, but people, old friends see you through,” Lü’e felt her heart shatter. She picked up the tattered gown Yang Guo had changed out of and carried it in both hands to him. Softly, she said, “Brother Yang, even with clothes, old is still better.” Yang Guo said, “Thank you.” He took it. Both he and Xiaolongnü knew she was deliberately standing in front of them so her mother could not shoot date pits. Xiaolongnü smiled and nodded her thanks. Lü’e pursed her lips toward the door, urging them to leave quickly.

Qiu Qianchi murmured the words twice: “People, old friends see you through. People, old friends see you through.” Suddenly, she raised her voice. “Yang Guo! You refuse to marry my daughter, do you not even want your life?”

Yang Guo smiled sorrowfully and took another step back, crossing the threshold of the great hall. Xiaolongnü’s heart tightened. “Wait,” she said. Then, clearly, she asked, “Old Senior Qiu, do you have medicine that can cure the Passion Flower poison?”

This question had been on Lü’e’s mind all along. Her father had only one Passion Severing Pill left, and Yang Guo had given it to Xiaolongnü. The deadly Passion Flower poison still raged in Yang Guo’s body. Her only hope was that her mother might have a cure. But Mother would surely use it as leverage, forcing Yang Guo to marry her. That was why she had not dared to ask. Now, at this critical moment, she could no longer care about a maiden’s modesty or dignity. She turned and said, “Mother, if not for Brother Yang’s help, you would still be trapped in that stone chamber, your ordeal unended. Brother Yang has never wronged you in the slightest. We should repay kindness with kindness. Please, find a way to cure the poison in his body.”

Qiu Qianchi gave a cold, mirthless laugh. “Repay kindness with kindness? Repay vengeance with vengeance? Is the line between grace and grudge ever so clear in this world? Did Gongsun Zhi repay my kindness?”

Lü’e raised her voice. “What your daughter hates most is a faithless, fickle man who abandons the old for the new. If this Yang were to cast aside his former love and seek to marry me. I would sooner die than accept him.”

These words fell pleasantly on Qiu Qianchi’s ears. But a moment’s reflection revealed her daughter’s true intent: she loved Yang Guo desperately. If he were truly willing to marry her, she would not care whether he abandoned the old for the new, she would accept him with all her heart. She was only speaking this way because of the situation, hoping her mother would save his life first.

The Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor, Yin Kexi, and the others watched this second act of forced marriage with amusement, exchanging smiles and glances. Only now did the Imperial Preceptor learn that Yang Guo was afflicted with a lethal poison. He secretly rejoiced and hoped Yang Guo would hold firm to the end, refusing to marry Gongsun Lü’e to save his life. But he worried: this boy is full of tricks. He might pretend to agree, get the antidote, then go back on his word. Still, with himself present, if Yang Guo tried any deceit, he could expose it and prevent Qiu Qianchi from being fooled.

Qiu Qianchi’s gaze swept slowly across every face, east to west. “Yang Guo,” she said, “among the people here, some want you dead and some want you alive. Whether you yourself wish to live or die, think carefully.”

Yang Guo put his arm around Xiaolongnü’s waist and declared, “If she cannot belong to me, and I cannot belong to her, then we would rather die together.” Xiaolongnü smiled sweetly. “Exactly.” Their hearts were one. Their love had grown so deep that even life and death seemed light things.

Qiu Qianchi could not fathom her thinking. She barked, “If I don’t help, this boy will breathe his last. Do you understand? He only has thirty-six days left to live. Do you know that?”

Xiaolongnü said, “If you are willing to help, the two of us can spend a few more years together, we would be deeply grateful. If you won’t help, then we’ll have thirty-six days together. That’s fine too. If he dies, I won’t go on living.” As she spoke these words, her beautiful face showed nothing but serene indifference.

Qiu Qianchi looked at her, then at Yang Guo. She saw them gazing at each other, the depth of their devotion, the sincerity of their love. This was something she had never experienced, never even conceived of, in her entire life. So this was what love between a man and a woman could be. She could not help thinking of her own marriage to Gongsun Zhi, and how it had ended. A long sigh escaped her, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Lü’e rushed to her mother’s side and threw herself into her arms. Sobbing, she cried, “Mother, cure his poison. Then we’ll go find Uncle. Uncle misses you so much, doesn’t he?” The tears stirred a tender feeling in Qiu Qianchi’s heart. But then she remembered the line from her second brother Qiu Qianren’s letter: “Since our eldest brother met his end at the hands of Guo Jing³⁶ and Huang Rong³⁷ on Iron Palm Peak…”³⁸ Her own limbs were crippled. Her second brother had become a monk, speaking of “laying down the butcher’s knife and taking refuge in the Three Treasures.”³⁹ Then how could their eldest brother’s death ever be avenged? This boy’s martial arts were not weak. Since he adamantly refused to marry her daughter, she could order him to exact revenge instead, that would settle one great matter.

Having reached this conclusion, she said, “There were originally many Passion Severing Pills to cure the Passion Flower poison. But except for three, I soaked them all in arsenic and destroyed them utterly. Of those three, the villain Gongsun Zhi took one himself. Another he stole from me while I was drunk, and it eventually fell into your hands, you gave it to this girl. Only one remains in all the world. I have kept this Passion Severing Pill close to my body for over twenty years. Living in Passionless Valley without a Passion Severing Pill, one’s life is not one’s own. But now, in any case, I have not long to live. And my daughter may not stay in the valley hereafter…” She slowly reached into her robes, took out the last Passion Severing Pill in existence, split it in half with her fingernail, and held out the half piece on her palm. “The medicine is yours,” she said. “If you will not be my son-in-law, so be it. But you must agree to do one thing for me.”

Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü exchanged a glance. Neither had imagined she would suddenly show mercy. Though they had set life and death aside, now that a path to survival lay before them, their joy was beyond words. Together they said, “Whatever Old Senior wishes done, we will do our utmost.”

Slowly, Qiu Qianchi said, “I want you to take two heads and deliver them into my hands.”

The moment they heard this, both knew that one of the intended victims must be Gongsun Zhi. Yang Guo certainly bore him no goodwill. The man had already lost an eye and his Acupoint-Sealing Skill, though his other martial arts remained intact, hunting him down should not be too difficult. But he was Gongsun Lü’e’s father, and this girl had shown him such devotion. Killing her father would wound her grievously. Yang Guo hesitated, unable to answer. Xiaolongnü also felt that, wicked as Gongsun Zhi was, he had nonetheless saved her life. But from Qiu Qianchi’s expression, it was clear: without fulfilling this task, she would never give Yang Guo the antidote.

Seeing the reluctance on their faces, Qiu Qianchi said icily, “I don’t know what connections these two people have to you. But I must kill them.” She tossed the half pill lightly in her palm. Hearing her tone, Yang Guo realised she was not speaking of Gongsun Zhi. He asked, “Who does Old Senior Qiu bear a grudge against? Whose heads does she want this junior to take?” Qiu Qianchi said, “Did you not hear that villain read the letter? The ones who killed my eldest brother are called Guo Jing and Huang Rong.”

Yang Guo’s face lit up with fierce joy. “Excellent!” he cried. “Those two are exactly the ones who killed my own father. Even without Old Senior’s command, this junior was going to seek them out for revenge.” Qiu Qianchi’s heart jolted. “Is this true?” Yang Guo pointed at the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor. “This great master also has a score to settle with those two. This junior’s affairs. I have spoken of them with him before.”

Qiu Qianchi looked at the Imperial Preceptor, who nodded and said, “But this Brother Yang, at that time, he was clearly helping Guo Jing and Huang Rong against this old monk.” Xiaolongnü and Lü’e, who detested this monk for his constant scheming and instigation, both glared at him with fury. The Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor pretended not to notice and smiled. “Brother Yang, this matter, it did happen, did it not?” Yang Guo said, “Indeed. After I have avenged my parents, I will still have to exchange a few pointers with the great master.” The Imperial Preceptor pressed his palms together. “Excellent, excellent!”

Qiu Qianchi waved her left hand at Yang Guo. “I don’t care whether your words are true or false. Take this pill and swallow it.” Yang Guo stepped forward and took the medicine in his hand. Seeing it was only half, he understood at once and smiled. “I must bring those two heads to exchange for the other half?” Qiu Qianchi nodded. “You are clever. One look and you know, no need for further explanation.” Yang Guo thought, I’ll take this half first, better than nothing. He placed the half pill in his mouth, swallowed some saliva, and let it slide down his throat.

Qiu Qianchi said, “Only one Passion Severing Pill remains in this world. You have taken half. The other half is hidden in an extremely secret place. In eighteen days, if you bring me those two heads, I will naturally retrieve it for you. Otherwise, even if you capture me, subject me to the torture of a thousand cuts, and throw me back into that stone chamber, I will never give it to you. I, Qiu Qianchi, speak with absolute finality. I never waver. Honoured guests, you may take your leave. Young Hero Yang, Miss Long, we shall meet again in eighteen days.” She closed her eyes and paid no further attention to anyone.

Xiaolongnü asked, “Why eighteen days?” Qiu Qianchi, eyes still shut, said, “The Passion Flower poison in his body was originally set to erupt after thirty-six days. Now that he has taken half the pill, the poison concentrates in one place, and the eruption comes twice as fast. After eighteen days, if he takes the other half, the poison will be neutralised at once. Otherwise… otherwise… heh heh!” She merely waved them away.

Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü knew this woman was beyond reason. They took their leave of Gongsun Lü’e and hurried out of Narcissus Manor. Yang Guo had no patience to retrace their route and leave by boat. He and Xiaolongnü deployed their qinggong and scaled the mountains, crossing out of the valley.

Yang Guo had been in the valley only three days, but in those three days he had faced peril after peril, death hovering within a hair’s breadth time and again. Now, escaping this deadly place with his beloved, it felt as if he had passed into another life. Dawn was breaking. Side by side, they stood on a high ridge and gazed down at the secluded valley below. Dense forests stretched beneath them, bathed in the morning light, a sea of emerald green. Their hearts swelled with boundless joy, light and drifting as if they were floating among the clouds.

Yang Guo led Xiaolongnü by the hand beneath a great locust tree. “Gugu…” he began. Xiaolongnü nestled close to him and gave a radiant smile. “I think you should stop calling me Gugu now.”

In his heart, Yang Guo had long ceased to regard her as his teacher. He called her “Gugu” only from habit. Hearing her words, sweetness flooded his heart. He turned and gazed into her dark eyes. “Then what should I call you?” Xiaolongnü said, “Call me whatever you like. Everything is up to you.” Yang Guo thought for a moment. “The happiest time in my life was when we were together in the ancient tomb. Back then, I called you Gugu. I’ll call you Gugu until the day I die. But in my heart…” He paused. “In my heart, I call you ‘wife.’”

Xiaolongnü laughed. “When I spanked your bottom back then, were you happy then too?” Yang Guo wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her warm fragrance, mingled with the scent of flowers and trees from the mountain valley. It made his soul drunk with bliss, beyond all restraint. Softly, he said, “If we could stay like this for eighteen days, I think we’d die of happiness. Let’s not go kill Guo Jing and Huang Rong. Rather than rushing about, labouring and fighting to the death, let’s just spend these eighteen days in peace and joy.”

Xiaolongnü smiled. “Whatever you say is fine. Before, I always made you listen to me. From now on, I’ll only listen to you.” She had always been cold in manner, but now, her heart filled with love, every part of her, from her brows and the corners of her eyes to her very limbs, was suffused with gentleness and devotion. Listening to Yang Guo with her whole heart, this was the greatest happiness she could imagine.

Yang Guo stared at her, transfixed. Slowly, he said, “Why are there tears in your eyes?” Xiaolongnü took his hand and pressed her cheek gently against the back of it. Softly, she said, “I… I don’t know.” After a moment, she added, “It must be because I love you too much.”

Yang Guo said, “I know what you’re sad about.” Xiaolongnü raised her head. Suddenly, tears streamed down like a spring. She threw herself into his arms and sobbed, “Guoer, you… you… we only have eighteen days. How can that be enough?” Yang Guo gently patted her shoulder. Softly, he said, “Yes. I also say it’s not enough.” Xiaolongnü said, “I want you to treat me like this forever, for a hundred years, a thousand years, ten thousand years…”

Yang Guo lifted her face and kissed her gently on her cherry-red lips. With fierce resolve, he said, “Fine. No matter what, we must kill Guo Jing and Huang Rong.” The salt taste of her tears lingered on his tongue. The passion in his chest was so intense he felt his whole body might burst.

Suddenly, from a height to their left, a voice laughed loudly: “If you want to be lovey-dovey, there’s no need to be in such a hurry.” Yang Guo turned his head. On a ridge a dozen zhang away stood five figures, shoulder to shoulder: the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor, Yin Kexi, Xiaoxiangzi, Nimoxing, and Ma Guangzuo. It was the Imperial Preceptor who had spoken. Yang Guo guessed that when he and Xiaolongnü had hurriedly left the valley, paying no attention to the others, the Imperial Preceptor and his party had followed. After their great ordeal, reunited at last, the two lovers had seen nothing and heard nothing beyond each other. Their tender moment beneath the locust tree had been observed from afar by the Imperial Preceptor and the others.

Yang Guo remembered how the Imperial Preceptor had repeatedly opposed him in Passionless Valley, nearly costing him his life with a few well-placed words. If he had known, back when the monk was recovering from his injuries in that mountain hut, he should have ended his life with a single palm strike. He had helped heal the man’s wounds, yet this so-called grandmaster of a sect had repaid kindness with venom. Xiaolongnü saw the fury kindling in his eyes and whispered, “Ignore him. People like that, even if they lived a whole lifetime, they wouldn’t know one moment of the joy we have.”

Ma Guangzuo called out, “Brother Yang! Miss Long! Let’s travel together. This wilderness, no wine, no meat, what fun is there in that?” Yang Guo only wanted to spend every possible moment with Xiaolongnü in peace and freedom, yet these tactless people had to come and disturb them. Only now did he truly appreciate the secluded stillness of the ancient tomb, far from the world’s annoyances. But knowing Ma Guangzuo meant well, he called back, “Brother Ma, go on ahead. We’ll follow shortly.” Ma Guangzuo said, “Fine, but hurry up, then.”

The Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor burst into loud laughter. “Why trouble yourself over them? They want to linger in this wilderness for eighteen days.” Qiu Qianchi’s words about the poison erupting after eighteen days had been heard by everyone in the hall. Hearing the monk speak thus, Ma Guangzuo flew into a rage. He seized the Imperial Preceptor by the collar and roared, “You thieving baldy, your heart is too vicious! We came to the valley together with Brother Yang. Not helping him is bad enough, but your constant cold sneering, what is the meaning of it?” The Imperial Preceptor smiled faintly. “Are you going to let go or not?” Ma Guangzuo raged, “I won’t! What are you going to do about it?”

The Imperial Preceptor threw a straight punch at his face. Ma Guangzuo said, “Oh, getting rough, are we?” He raised his fan-like palm to catch the fist. But the punch was a feint. The Imperial Preceptor’s left hand shot out and lifted from beneath, hard and soft force combined. Ma Guangzuo’s enormous body went flying, crashing down the slope. Fortunately, the hillside was thick with long grass, and his skin was thick and flesh tough, he was not seriously hurt, though his forehead swelled and bruised. Wailing, he clambered back up.

Yang Guo saw them fighting and knew Ma Guangzuo would come to grief. He had only taken three steps to intervene when Ma Guangzuo was already thrown hard. Though Ma Guangzuo was simple, he had his own brand of cunning. He knew he could not beat the monk in a straight fight, so he moaned and groaned, “Aiyo, aiyo! My arm, that thieving baldy broke my arm!”

The Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor had been summoned by the Mongol Empress Dowager and invested as the Mongol Empire’s First Imperial Preceptor. Xiaoxiangzi and Nimoxing had always been resentful and defiant. Seeing his overbearing behaviour now only deepened their anger. The two exchanged a look. Xiaoxiangzi said, “The great master’s martial skill is indeed impressive, worthy of the title of Mongol Empire’s First Imperial Preceptor.” The Imperial Preceptor replied, “You flatter me, you flatter me…” Reading their expressions, he knew Xiaoxiangzi and Nimoxing were about to attack, while Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü stood to the side, also eager to move. Yin Kexi’s intentions were still unclear. Though he was confident in his martial prowess, if these five masters joined forces against him, he would not only be utterly unable to withstand them, his very life would be at risk. He made polite replies while his mind raced for an escape.

But Ma Guangzuo, still moaning and groaning, slowly worked his way behind the Imperial Preceptor’s back. Suddenly, he threw a mighty punch. bong! It landed square on the back of the Imperial Preceptor’s skull. Given the Imperial Preceptor’s martial skill, Ma Guangzuo’s sneak attack should never have succeeded. But the monk’s full attention was fixed on Yang Guo, Xiaoxiangzi, and the other three. He had paid no heed at all to this simpleton. The punch landed like an iron hammer, making stars dance before his eyes. Shocked and enraged, he drove an elbow backward. It caught Ma Guangzuo square in the chest. Ma Guangzuo cried out and collapsed forward, limp. The Imperial Preceptor bent his knees slightly, and Ma Guangzuo’s massive body landed squarely on his shoulder. Without pause, the monk fled down the slope.

Everyone shouted and gave chase, Yang Guo in the lead. Though the Imperial Preceptor bore a man weighing nearly three hundred jin on his shoulder, he ran like the wind. Yang Guo, Xiaolongnü, Nimoxing, all were first-rate in qinggong. But with the Imperial Preceptor’s head start, they could not close the gap within several dozen zhang. Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü quickened their pace and gradually began to gain. The Imperial Preceptor stopped abruptly and turned, a savage grin on his face. “Fine!” he snarled. “Will you all come at once, or fight one on one?” He held Ma Guangzuo upside down, positioning the man’s head against a rock on the hillside as if about to dash it to pieces.

Yang Guo circled behind him, blocking his escape. “If you harm his life,” he said, “we will indeed all attack together.” The Imperial Preceptor laughed and tossed Ma Guangzuo to the ground. “A simpleton like this, is he worth taking seriously?” He reached both hands into his robes and then withdrew them. In his left hand, white light shimmered. In his right, a yellow aura glowed. He now held a silver wheel and a bronze wheel. He struck the two wheels together, and the ringing hum echoed through the valley. Proudly, he said, “Who will be first?”

Yin Kexi said with a grin, “You are all exchanging martial pointers. I am merely a merchant. I’ll just observe from the side.” The Imperial Preceptor thought, This man is neutral, one less opponent. Xiaoxiangzi thought it best to let someone else go first, exhaust the monk’s strength, then strike when he was flagging. He said, “Brother Ni, your martial skill surpasses mine. Please, go first!”

Nimoxing understood Xiaoxiangzi’s intent but was confident in his own abilities. His martial learning was unmatched in all of India, he had never met his equal. He thought that even if he could not defeat the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor, he would not lose. He casually seized a massive boulder from the hillside and bellowed, “Fine! Let me test your two little circle-things.” Raising the boulder, he hurled it straight at the Imperial Preceptor’s chest. The rock must have weighed at least three hundred jin. Everyone was shocked to see him forgo weapons and attack with a giant stone.

The Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor had not expected this dwarf to possess such natural strength, hurling boulders as weapons. He dared not meet it head-on. He sidestepped to avoid it, then swept his bronze wheel at Nimoxing’s back. Nimoxing, still gripping the boulder, swung it around to block. Wheel met rock with a spray of sparks and a deafening tang that echoed through the valley. The Imperial Preceptor’s left arm tingled with numbness. This dark dwarf’s martial arts are bizarre, he thought. I must not be careless. But no matter how strong he is, how long can he hold up that boulder? His twin wheels danced as he circled Nimoxing’s body.

Yang Guo helped Ma Guangzuo up and stood with Xiaolongnü, watching the fight. Nimoxing’s superhuman strength and strange martial arts astonished them both. They fought on. Nimoxing’s power showed no sign of flagging. Suddenly, he roared, “A-po-xing!” He hurled the boulder at the Imperial Preceptor.

This throw was a fearsome technique from Indian Buddhist martial arts, called the “Shakyamuni Elephant-Hurling Skill.”⁴⁰ The Buddhist scriptures record: when Shakyamuni was still a prince, one day he left the city and an elephant blocked his path. The prince seized the elephant by its foot and hurled it into the sky. Three days later, the elephant fell back to earth, the impact carving a deep trench, now called Elephant-Hurling Gully. This was, of course, allegory, illustrating the inconceivable power of the Dharma. In later ages, Indian martial artists developed an external technique that allowed them to hurl objects with tremendous force, naming it after this story. Now, as Nimoxing employed this divine skill, the boulder spun rapidly through the air, carrying a fierce wind as it hurtled toward the Imperial Preceptor.

Powerful as the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor’s martial arts were, he dared not meet such a colossal projectile head-on. He leaped aside. Nimoxing’s body suddenly flew into the air. He caught up with the great rock and struck it with both palms. The boulder changed direction and hurtled after the Imperial Preceptor once more. This second throw combined the remaining force of the first with the new impetus, it was even stronger than before.

In pure martial attainment, the Imperial Preceptor exceeded Nimoxing. But seeing the boulder change course and fly at him, he could only leap aside again. Nimoxing pressed his advantage. With each strike, he added fresh force, and the great rock’s momentum grew ever more ferocious. The Imperial Preceptor thought, If this continues, I will lose to this dark dwarf. I must change tactics at once. Fortunately, he attacked alone first. If I kill him swiftly with a lethal blow, that zombie-ghost won’t dare follow up. Yang and Long are both poisoned, they cannot use the Pure-hearted Jade Maiden Swordplay freely.

---

Suddenly, from behind the mountain came the thunder of hooves, like rolling thunder. Banners fluttered, and a contingent of cavalry burst into view. The Imperial Preceptor and Nimoxing were locked in fierce combat with no attention to spare. Yang Guo and the others saw a force of robust men and strong horses, armed with long blades and powerful crossbows, a Mongol cavalry unit. They halted a dozen zhang away, and the commanding officer raised a hand to signal the entire company to stop.

Beneath the banner, a rider observed the battle for a moment, then spurred his horse forward and called out, “Stop! Stop!” The man was bareheaded, wearing a yellow robe and carrying an iron bow, none other than the Mongol prince, Kublai Khan.⁴¹

Hearing the call, Nimoxing leaped forward and pushed with both palms. The great boulder tumbled. beng-teng, beng-teng, down the slope, sweeping mud, sand, and stones along in its thunderous path. Kublai dismounted and walked toward the Imperial Preceptor and Nimoxing with a broad smile. “So the two of you were exchanging martial arts here,” he said. “It truly opens this prince’s eyes.” He knew perfectly well that they had been fighting in earnest, but to preserve face on both sides, he wanted to gloss over it lightly. He continued with a laugh, “This place has fine scenery, how can we be without wine? Attendants, bring wine! Let us drink three hearty bowls!” Mongols grow up in the open wilderness, treating heaven and earth as their chamber. Dining on a barren mountain was no different from dining in a hall. Attendants immediately brought strong wine and dried meat, arranging them on the ground.

Kublai glanced twice at Xiaolongnü, secretly astonished. Can there truly be such a beautiful woman in the world? Seeing her standing shoulder to shoulder with Yang Guo, their manner intimate, he asked, “Who is this young lady?” Yang Guo said, “This is Miss Long, my teacher in the martial arts, and also my wife.” Having passed through life and death in Passionless Valley, he now held the world’s conventions and proprieties in utter contempt. He wanted the whole world to know: I, Yang Guo, have married my teacher.

Mongols were far less concerned than Han Chinese with such customs as respecting teachers and maintaining the separation of the sexes. Hearing that this girl had taught him martial arts, Kublai felt an added layer of respect. He laughed and said, “Truly, a talented man and a beautiful woman, a match made in heaven. Excellent, excellent. Come, let everyone drain a bowl to celebrate the two of you.” He raised his wine bowl and drank it in one gulp. The Imperial Preceptor smiled faintly and also drained his bowl. The others followed suit, with Ma Guangzuo downing three bowls in succession.

Xiaolongnü had no particular feelings toward Mongols, one way or the other. But hearing Kublai praise her and Yang Guo as a fine match, her heart filled with pleasure. After drinking half a bowl of wine, her complexion grew even more radiant. She thought, Those Han people all say Guoer and I cannot marry. But this Mongol prince says “excellent, excellent.” It seems Mongols have better judgement.

Kublai laughed. “You have been gone three days. This prince was growing worried. But military affairs at Xiangyang were pressing, and I could not wait. That Master Zhou could not be recruited, we can speak of it another day. This prince left word at the main camp, asking all of you to proceed to the front at Xiangyang and lend your strength. Meeting you here by chance, it greatly gladdens my heart.”

The Imperial Preceptor asked, “May I ask, Your Highness, how goes our army’s assault on Xiangyang?” Kublai frowned. “The defender of Xiangyang, Lü Wenhuan, is a mediocre talent.⁴² The one this prince fears is Guo Jing, and Guo Jing alone.” Yang Guo’s heart jolted. “Guo Jing is indeed in Xiangyang?”

Kublai said, “This Guo Jing, speaking of it, is actually this prince’s elder by a generation. In his youth, he was sworn brothers with my late father, he was my grandfather Genghis Khan’s most beloved general.⁴³ This man possesses both wisdom and courage. When he led the expedition to the Western Regions, he devised stratagem after stratagem and accomplished great deeds. My late father once told me: the Southern Dynasty may have a foolish ruler and treacherous ministers, cowardly generals and weak soldiers, for all their numbers, they cannot match our Mongol elite. But if you ever face Guo Jing, you must be a thousand times careful. Ai, my father indeed had foresight. Our army has camped outside Xiangyang’s walls and attacked for so long without success, all because of this Guo Jing’s interference.”

Yang Guo rose to his feet. “This Guo is my father’s murderer,” he said. “This humble one requests permission to assassinate him.”

Kublai was delighted. “This prince invited all you heroes precisely for this purpose. But I have heard it said that Guo Jing’s martial arts are the foremost among the Han people of the Central Plains, and he is aided by many talented and unusual individuals. This prince has repeatedly sent brave warriors to assassinate him. All have failed, captured or killed, none have returned. Brother Yang, though valiant, would be a lone palm, hard to make a sound. This prince wishes to ask all you heroes to infiltrate Xiangyang together and strike with combined force. Once this man is killed, Xiangyang will fall like ripe fruit.”

The Imperial Preceptor, Xiaoxiangzi, and the others rose as one and saluted with clasped hands. “We are at Your Highness’s command. We will give our utmost.”

Kublai was overjoyed. “Whoever strikes the killing blow, all who accompany him shall receive great merit. But the one who delivers the fatal stroke, this prince shall memorialise the Great Khan to bestow upon him a noble title, hereditary rank, and the title of ‘Foremost Warrior of the Great Mongol Empire.’”

Xiaoxiangzi, Nimoxing, and the others did not care much for noble titles or hereditary rank. But to be proclaimed “Foremost Warrior of the Great Mongol Empire”, to have one’s name ring throughout the world, that was the dream of a lifetime. At this time, Mongol military might stretched to every horizon. The empire’s breadth was unprecedented in history. Its western territories extended tens of thousands of li. China itself was already two-thirds conquered. From the centre of the empire to its farthest borders, a fast horse would have to gallop for an entire year. To be called the Foremost Warrior, every hero under heaven would bow in admiration. Every man present was fired with zeal. Even the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor’s eyes gleamed with a strange light.

Yang Guo smiled sorrowfully and slowly shook his head. Xiaolongnü gazed at him with infinite tenderness, but in her heart she thought, Who wants noble titles or “Foremost Warrior”? I only want you to live well.

They drank several more bowls and rose to their feet. Mongol warriors led horses forward. Yang Guo, Xiaolongnü, the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor, and the others all mounted and followed behind Kublai, racing south toward Xiangyang.

Along the road, they saw nine houses out of ten empty, the ground strewn with corpses. Whenever Mongol soldiers encountered Han people, they often slaughtered them at will. Yang Guo watched with growing fury. He wanted to intervene, but Kublai’s presence restrained him. The Mongol soldiers are so cruel, he thought, treating us Han people worse than pigs and dogs. After I assassinate Guo Jing and Huang Rong, I must kill some of the most vicious Mongol officers to vent the rage in my heart.

Within a few days, they reached the outskirts of Xiangyang. The two armies had been locked in attack and defence for over a month. The hills and plains were littered with broken spears and splintered halberds, clotted blood and piled bones, a testament to the savagery of the fighting.

The Mongol army received word that Prince Kublai had personally arrived at the front. The supreme commander and all the generals rode out thirty li to welcome him. Their escort guards rode spirited horses, their iron armour clanking, a magnificent display of military might. Seeing Kublai’s great banner from afar, the generals all dismounted and prostrated themselves by the roadside.

Kublai rode up close, reined in his horse, and surveyed the scene. After a long silence, he snorted. “Xiangyang has withstood our attacks for so long. Our army grows stale without result. Have we not disgraced the Great Mongol Empire’s prestige?” The generals answered in unison, “This is our mortal fault. We beg Prince Kublai to pronounce punishment.” Kublai flicked his riding crop, and his horse bolted forward. The generals remained prostrate for a long time, not daring to rise, every man trembling.

Yang Guo observed how Kublai treated himself and the Imperial Preceptor with such ease and amiability, yet commanded his generals with such terrifying authority. The Mongol army, strong soldiers, sturdy horses, iron discipline, he thought. How can the Great Song possibly be their match? He could not help furrowing his brow.

At the first light of dawn the next day, the Mongol army launched a massive assault on the city. Arrows fell like rain, stones like hail, pounding relentlessly against the walls. Then the soldiers raised scaling ladders and swarmed toward the battlements from every direction. The city’s defence was tight and methodical. Teams of eight soldiers each wielded a great wooden beam to push the ladders away from the walls. The struggle raged for a long time. At last, several hundred Mongol soldiers gained the top of the wall. The Mongol army roared with triumphant shouts as company after hundred-man company swarmed up like ants.

Suddenly, the urgent clatter of watchmen’s clappers rang out from within the city. From behind the parapets, a company of archers appeared. Their arrows flew with deadly accuracy, forcing the Mongol reinforcements to halt their advance. Then another company of Song soldiers charged out, torches in hand, setting the scaling ladders ablaze. Mongol soldiers tumbled from the burning ladders in droves.

Amid the thunderous shouts from above and below the wall, a squad of stout, brave men appeared on the battlements, wielding long spears and sharp blades, and attacked the Mongol soldiers who had reached the top. These men did not wear Song military uniforms. Some were in short black jackets, others in long blue robes. They fought without formation, but they were nimble and fierce, clearly possessed of martial skill. The Mongol officers and soldiers who had gained the wall were the army’s elite warriors, men who had never met their match. But against this squad, after a few exchanges, they were cut down one by one, some sprawled dead on the battlements, others dashed to pieces at the foot of the wall.

One middle-aged man among the Song forces was especially ferocious. Dressed in grey, barehanded, he ranged back and forth across the wall. Whenever he saw a Song soldier in trouble, he would leap to the rescue. Where his palm wind passed, Mongol officers and soldiers fell like wheat before the scythe, a tiger among sheep.

Kublai himself was directing the battle from below the wall. Seeing this man’s heroism, he stood transfixed for a long moment. He sighed. “Among all the warriors under heaven, who can compare to this man?” Yang Guo stood beside him and asked, “Does Your Highness know who he is?” Startled, Kublai said, “Can it be. Guo Jing?” Yang Guo said, “It is.”

By now, of the several hundred Mongol soldiers who had reached the top of the wall, only a handful remained. Three of the bravest centurions, holding spears and shields, were making a last stand by the battlements. A commander of ten thousand below sounded the horn and led another wave against the wall, hoping to extract those three centurions. Guo Jing gave a long, piercing whistle and strode forward. One centurion thrust his spear. Guo Jing seized the spear shaft and pushed forward while his left foot flew out, kicking another centurion’s shield. Brave as these two centurions were, how could they withstand the divine force of that push and kick? They tumbled head over heels off the wall and died, their bones shattered.

The third centurion was older, his hair already grey. He knew he would not survive this day. He swung his long blade in wild, frantic arcs, up and down, left and right, like a maddened tiger. Guo Jing’s left arm shot out and seized the man’s sword-wrist. His right palm was about to chop down when he suddenly froze. The centurion had also recognised Guo Jing’s face. “Golden Blade Prince Consort, it is you!” he cried.⁴⁴ It turned out he was one of Guo Jing’s old comrades from the western campaigns of years past. When Huang Rong had devised the stratagem to capture Samarkand, this man had been among the first warriors to descend into the city.

Old memories stirred. Guo Jing said, “Hmm, are you Erduo?” The centurion, seeing that Guo Jing remembered his name, felt hot tears fill his eyes. “It is! It is this humble one!” Guo Jing said, “Very well. For the sake of our old friendship, I spare your life today. If I capture you again, do not blame me for showing no mercy.” He turned to his left and right. “Bring rope. Lower him down!” Two sturdy soldiers brought a long rope, tied it around Erduo’s waist, and lowered him to the ground below.

Erduo was a battle-hardened warrior of great renown in the Mongol army. Seeing him suddenly lowered by rope from the Song battlements, the Mongol soldiers below were thoroughly baffled. They fell back several dozen zhang in confusion. The archers on the wall also ceased fire. For a moment, both armies paused. Once on the ground, Erduo knelt before Guo Jing and cried out clearly, “The Golden Blade Prince Consort is here! This humble one would not dare offend your august presence even if it meant ten thousand deaths.”

Guo Jing stood atop the wall, his divine authority radiating from him. He shouted, “Hear me, Mongol commander! The Great Song and Mongolia were once allies, united in purpose, joining forces to destroy the Jin.⁴⁵ Why does Mongolia now invade our borders and harm our people? The people of the Great Song outnumber you Mongols dozens of times over. If you do not withdraw at once, our righteous armies will gather from all sides, and I promise you, not one of your hundred thousand Mongol soldiers will find a burial place!” He spoke these words in Mongolian, his breath deep and full, each word carrying clearly to the ground below. The wall was high and the armies far apart, yet every one of the tens of thousands of Mongol soldiers heard every word with perfect clarity. They looked at one another, their faces pale.

A commander of ten thousand led Erduo before Kublai and reported what had happened. Erduo described how he had followed Guo Jing in the western campaigns, how the Golden Blade Prince Consort had used troops with divine skill and overcome every enemy. He spoke with vivid passion. Kublai’s expression darkened. “Take him away and behead him!” he barked. Erduo cried, “Injustice!” The commander of ten thousand said, “Prince Kublai, your insight is clear, this Erduo has rendered considerable merit in battle…” Kublai waved his hand. Four guards dragged Erduo away, cut off his head, and presented it. The generals trembled with terror.

Kublai addressed the commander of ten thousand. “Give Erduo the honours of one fallen in battle. Additionally, award his family ten jin of gold, thirty slaves, and three hundred head of livestock.” The commander was utterly bewildered. “Yes, yes,” he stammered. Kublai said, “I execute this man, yet reward his family. You do not understand the reasoning, do you?” The generals bowed as one. “Please, Prince Kublai, enlighten us.” Kublai declared, “This centurion knelt to an enemy general and extolled that enemy’s prowess, shaking our army’s morale. Should he not be executed? Yet he fought bravely to be first upon the wall, battling to the last man. Should he not be rewarded?” The generals all prostrated themselves in acknowledgment.

But the damage was done, the Mongol army’s morale had plummeted. Kublai knew that even if they hurled themselves at the city again, it would only mean more losses with no gain. He saw the thousands of Mongol dead piled beneath the walls, all elite warriors tempered in a hundred battles. Great resentment filled his heart. Yet the walls of Xiangyang were solid, the defences tight, there was truly no opening to exploit. He could not suppress a sigh and ordered the army to withdraw forty li.

Two guards beside him exchanged a look. “Let us share Prince Kublai’s burden,” they said, “and humble these southern barbarians a little.” They swung onto their horses and galloped to the foot of the wall. Drawing their iron bows, they loosed two wolf-fletched eagle-feathered arrows straight at Guo Jing.

These two men were superb horsemen and expert archers. Their horses flew like the wind, their arrows like lightning. Before the shouts from above and below the wall had even faded, the arrows were already at Guo Jing’s chest and belly. Escape seemed impossible. But Guo Jing drew both hands inward, and each hand now held a feathered shaft. He then fitted them to his iron-bowed great bow, drew, and released. The arrows shot downward with deadly force. The two Mongol guards had not even had time to turn their horses when the arrows arrived, piercing through their chests. Both men toppled from their saddles. The Song soldiers on the wall roared their approval, and the war drums thundered in triumph.

Kublai, deeply disheartened, led his army north in retreat. After they had marched several li, Yang Guo said, “Your Highness need not be troubled. This humble one will enter the city now and take Guo Jing’s life.” Kublai shook his head. “This Guo Jing, wisdom and courage combined, truly lives up to his name. Seeing him today, I feel this matter is thorny in the extreme.” Yang Guo said, “This humble one lived in Guo Jing’s household for several years and once rendered him service. He will have absolutely no guard against me. As the saying goes, it is easy to dodge the spear in the open, hard to defend against the arrow from the shadows.” Kublai said, “During the attack on the city just now, you stood beside me. I fear he may have spotted you from the wall.” Yang Guo said, “This humble one took precautions. During the assault, Miss Long and I both wore broad-brimmed hats and fur collars covering our faces. He could not possibly have recognised us.” Kublai said, “If that is so, I hope you achieve this great deed. The promised rewards. I will not go back on my word.”

Yang Guo casually murmured his thanks and was about to turn and leave with Xiaolongnü when he noticed strange expressions on the faces of the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor, Xiaoxiangzi, Yin Kexi, and the others. A thought struck him: These men all fear that if I assassinate Guo Jing and earn the title of Foremost Warrior of Mongolia, it will diminish them. They will surely try to obstruct me. He said to Kublai, “Your Highness, this humble one goes to assassinate Guo Jing to avenge a personal grievance and also to exchange his head for life-saving medicine. If, by Your Highness’s good fortune, the great deed is accomplished, I absolutely dare not accept the title of Foremost Warrior of the Great Mongol Empire.” Kublai asked, “Why is that?” Yang Guo said, “This humble one’s martial arts are far inferior to those of everyone here. How dare I claim to be the foremost warrior? Your Highness must agree to this before I dare set out.”

Seeing the sincerity in his words, and noting the expressions of the others. Kublai guessed his reasoning. “If that is your wish,” he said, “every man has his own aspirations. I will not force the matter.” The Imperial Preceptor and the others, hearing Kublai’s words, indeed showed expressions of relief.

---

Yang Guo wheeled his horse around and rode toward Xiangyang with Xiaolongnü at his side. Along the way, they discarded their broad hats and fur collars, reverting to Han dress. By the time they reached the city, dusk was falling. The gates were shut tight, and companies of soldiers bearing torches patrolled the battlements. Yang Guo called out in a loud voice, “My surname is Yang, given name Guo. I have come especially to pay my respects to Uncle Guo Jing.” The defending officer on the wall heard his call and, seeing that he was accompanied only by a single woman, immediately reported to Guo Jing.

Before long, two young men appeared on the wall and looked down. One of them called out, “So it’s Brother Yang! Just the two of you?” Yang Guo saw that they were the Wu brothers. Guo Jing killed my father, he thought. I wonder if the Wu brothers’ father was present, aiding him at the time. He said, “Brother Wu the Elder, Brother Wu the Younger, is Uncle Guo in the city?” Wu Xiuwen said, “He is. Please come in, Brother Yang.” He ordered the soldiers to open the gates and lower the drawbridge, admitting Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü into the city.

The two Wus led them to a large residence. Guo Jing, his face brimming with joy, hurried out to greet them. He bowed to Xiaolongnü with clasped hands, then seized Yang Guo’s hand and laughed. “Guoer, you’ve come at the perfect time. The Tartars are pressing their assault. With you two here, my arm is strengthened, this is truly a blessing for the people of the entire city.” Since Xiaolongnü was Yang Guo’s teacher, Guo Jing treated her with the courtesy due an equal, politely ushering her inside, but toward Yang Guo he was warmly affectionate.

Yang Guo felt his left hand grasped by this man, his father’s murderer, who was putting on such a false show of warmth. He ached to draw his sword and stab him dead on the spot, but he feared Guo Jing’s martial prowess and dared not act rashly. He forced a smile onto his face and said, “Uncle Guo, I hope you have been well.” His heart was full of bitter hatred, and he did not kneel to kowtow. Guo Jing, magnanimous by nature, paid no attention to this detail.

Once in the main hall, Yang Guo asked to go inside and pay his respects to Huang Rong. Guo Jing laughed. “Your Auntie Guo is about to give birth. She has been unwell these past few days. You can see her another day.” Yang Guo secretly rejoiced. Huang Rong is too clever by far. My only worry was that she would see through me. That she is indisposed. Heaven itself is aiding my success.

As they spoke, a staff officer entered and reported, “Grand Commandant Lü invites Uncle Guo to a banquet celebrating today’s great victory over the Tartars.” Guo Jing said, “Give the Grand Commandant my thanks for his kind invitation. I have guests from afar and cannot attend.” The staff officer looked at Yang Guo, very young, with nothing remarkable about him, and wondered why Guo Jing would value him so highly, declining the supreme commander’s victory feast just to keep this youth company. Puzzled, he withdrew to report to Lü Wenhuan.

Guo Jing arranged a simple family feast in the inner hall to welcome Xiaolongnü and Yang Guo. Zhu Ziliu, Lu Youjiao, the Wu brothers, Guo Fu⁴⁶, and others joined them. Zhu Ziliu repeatedly expressed his gratitude to Yang Guo, saying it was thanks to him that he had obtained the antidote from Huodu, curing the poison in his body.⁴⁷ Yang Guo smiled faintly and made a few modest remarks. The Wu brothers pretended not to hear.

Guo Fu, seeing him, was cool and distant. She merely said, “Brother Yang.” Guo Jing reproached her. “Fu’er, earlier when you were captured by the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor, if Brother Yang had not risked his life to save you, never mind your own capture, even your mother would have been in grave danger. Why haven’t you properly thanked him?” Guo Fu rose to her feet. “Thank you, Brother Yang, for saving me that day.” Yang Guo said, “We are all family. Why speak of thanks?” Guo Fu sat down without another word. Throughout the meal, her brows were slightly knitted, as if her heart were full of troubles. The Wu brothers also seemed distracted. But Lu Youjiao and Zhu Ziliu were in high spirits, talking endlessly and enthusiastically about the day’s great victory over the Tartars.

By the time the feast ended, it was the first watch of the night. Guo Jing told his daughter to escort Xiaolongnü inside to rest while he himself drew Yang Guo away to share his bed. As Xiaolongnü went inside, she glanced at Yang Guo, her expression full of deep affection and boundless concern, as if urging him to be careful above all else. Yang Guo, afraid of revealing his intentions, turned his head away, not daring to meet her eyes.

Guo Jing led Yang Guo by the hand to his bedchamber. He praised him for holding his own against the Golden Wheel Imperial Preceptor and for twice saving Huang Rong, Guo Fu, and the Wu brothers, once at the wine house, once in the Stone Formation. Then he asked about his experiences since they had parted. Yang Guo, fearful that too many words would betray him, said nothing of meeting Cheng Ying, Lu Wushuang⁴⁸, Shagu⁴⁹, or Huang Yaoshi. He simply said, “After I was wounded, I recovered in a desolate valley. Later, I found my teacher, and we came together to find Uncle Guo.”

As Guo Jing undressed for bed, he said, “Guoer, with powerful enemies pressing at our borders, the Great Song realm truly hangs by a thread. Xiangyang is the shield protecting half the Great Song’s territory. If this city falls, I fear our millions of Song subjects will all become slaves to the Mongols. I have seen with my own eyes the horrors of how Mongols slaughter other peoples. It truly makes one’s blood boil.” Hearing this, Yang Guo recalled the terrible, hateful scenes of Mongol soldiers’ atrocities along the road. He could not help grinding his teeth, his heart full of fury.

Guo Jing continued, “We who train in martial arts, what do we do it for? To act righteously, to aid those in distress, these are, of course, our duty. But that is only the chivalry of lesser men. The reason the jianghu⁵⁰ honours me with the title ‘Hero Guo’ is because they respect my devotion to country and people, my willingness to defend Xiangyang without regard for my own life. Yet my abilities are limited. I cannot relieve the people’s suffering. I am truly unworthy of the word ‘hero.’ Your intelligence and wisdom surpass mine tenfold. Your future achievements will certainly far exceed my own, that goes without saying. I only hope you will engrave these eight words firmly upon your heart: ‘Serve the country, serve the people, this is what makes a true hero.’⁵¹ One day, when your name is known throughout the world, you will become a true hero, revered by all.”

These words were spoken with utter sincerity and earnestness. Yang Guo listened, deeply moved. Seeing the solemn dignity in Guo Jing’s expression, though he knew this man was his father’s murderer, he could not help feeling a surge of genuine respect. He answered, “Uncle Guo, after you die, I will surely remember the words you spoke tonight.”

Guo Jing never imagined that Yang Guo intended to assassinate him this very night. He reached out and stroked Yang Guo’s head. “Yes, give your all until the end. If the nation falls, your Uncle Guo’s life cannot be preserved either. I have heard that Kublai is skilled in the art of war. Today’s retreat is only temporary, he will certainly return. In these next few days, there will be a great, decisive battle. We shall fight with magnificent fury. It is late, let us sleep.”

Yang Guo answered, “Yes.” He undressed for bed, keeping the dagger he had brought from Passionless Valley pressed close against his flesh. I will wait until you are deep in sleep, he thought, then give you one thrust beneath the blankets. Even if your martial arts were a hundred times greater, how could you evade that?

Guo Jing had fought fiercely that day and was greatly drained. The moment his head touched the pillow, he fell into deep slumber. Yang Guo’s mind was a storm of thoughts, how could he sleep? He lay on the inner side of the bed, head to foot with Guo Jing. He could hear Guo Jing’s breathing, steady and even, each inhalation and exhalation spaced far apart. Secretly, he admired the depth of Guo Jing’s neili. After a long while, silence reigned in every direction, only the distant sound of the night watch from the defending troops could be heard. Quietly, he sat up and drew the dagger from within his clothes. After I stab him dead, he thought, I will go kill Huang Rong. What can a pregnant woman about to give birth do to stop me? Once the deed is done, I can go with Gugu to Passionless Valley and get the other half of the antidote. After that, we will live in seclusion in the ancient tomb and enjoy all the blessings of human life. Who cares whether this world belongs to the Great Song or to Mongolia?

At this thought, he felt immensely pleased with himself. Suddenly, from the neighbouring house, a child began to wail loudly, followed by the sound of a mother soothing it. Gradually, the child quieted and fell asleep. Yang Guo’s heart jolted. He suddenly remembered what he had seen on the road days before, a Mongol warrior using his long spear to pierce an infant’s belly, then lifting it high in the air as sport, the baby not yet dead, still screaming in agony. He thought, To assassinate Guo Jing now, it would be as easy as lifting my hand. But once he is dead, Xiangyang will be impossible to defend. The thousands upon thousands of infants in this city, will they not all be slaughtered for sport by Mongol soldiers? To avenge my personal grudge, I would cause the deaths of countless innocents. Would that not be a terrible wrong?

Then he thought again: But if I do not kill him, how will Qiu Qianchi ever give me the other half of the Passion Severing Pill? If I die, Gugu cannot live either. His love for Xiaolongnü was beyond anything in this world. He hardened his heart. Enough, enough. What do I care about the people of Xiangyang? What do I care about the Great Song’s realm? In my suffering, apart from Gugu, who ever truly pitied me? The world has never loved me, why should I love the world? He raised the dagger, channelling his strength into his right arm, and aimed the tip at Guo Jing’s chest.

The candle in the room had long gone out, but Yang Guo could see in darkness. He could make out shapes, albeit dimly. Just as the dagger was about to descend, he looked at Guo Jing’s face. It was kind and gentle, calm and at peace, he slept with the serenity of deep contentment. Suddenly, all the memories of Guo Jing’s care and protection during his youth came flooding back: how warmly Guo Jing had treated him on Peach Blossom Island, how he had travelled a thousand li to send him to Mount Zhongnan to study the martial arts, how he had wanted to betroth his only daughter to him. He could not help thinking: Uncle Guo has been upright his entire life, open, honourable, a truly loyal and generous elder. Given his character, he could not have killed my father. Could it be that Shagu, in her madness, was babbling nonsense? I swore an oath with Sister Cheng Ying, before I raise my hand to kill Guo Jing, I must think three times, until my thoughts are perfectly clear. Have I truly thought this through? If I drive this blade home and it turns out I have killed a good man, then ten thousand deaths could not atone for it. Wait. I must probe this matter and understand it clearly before I act.

Slowly, he withdrew the dagger. He began to examine every event since he had first met Guo Jing and his wife, turning each memory over in his mind. He recalled how Huang Rong had always looked at him with ill-concealed displeasure. Several times, when the couple had been discussing something, they had changed the subject the moment they saw him. There was something important they were hiding from him, of that there could be no doubt. He thought further, Why did Auntie Guo, when she took me as her disciple, only teach me to read books and refuse to pass on even a trace of martial arts? Uncle Guo has treated me so well, is it not because he killed my father and his conscience torments him, so he treats me well as a form of atonement? But if he truly killed my father, how can he be so completely unguarded around me, sharing a bed, letting me lie here where I could stab him to death with a single thrust? He stared at the bed canopy, thoughts surging like the tide, restless and tormented.

Guo Jing’s neili was of the highest order. Even in sleep, he sensed that Yang Guo’s breathing had become rapid and irregular. He opened his eyes and woke. “Guoer, what’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Yang Guo gave a slight start. “Nothing.” Guo Jing laughed. “If you’re not used to sharing a bed, I can sleep on the table.” Yang Guo said hurriedly, “No, it’s fine.” Guo Jing said, “Good, then sleep quickly. Those who study martial arts must above all learn to calm and focus the mind.” Yang Guo answered, “Yes.”

After a moment, Yang Guo could bear it no longer. “Uncle Guo,” he said, “that year you sent me to study at Chongyang Palace, at the foot of Mount Zhongnan, in a temple, I asked you something.” Guo Jing said, “What about it?” Yang Guo said, “You struck the stone tablet in anger then, causing the Quanzhen Daoists to misunderstand. Do you still remember what I asked?” Guo Jing thought back. “Yes, that day you asked me how your father died.” Yang Guo raised his head and stared at him. “No. I asked you, who exactly killed my father.” Guo Jing said, “How do you know your father was killed by someone?” Yang Guo said, his voice hoarse, “Did my father die a natural death?”

Guo Jing fell silent. After a long while, he let out a deep sigh. “He did indeed die tragically. But no one killed him. He killed himself.” Yang Guo sat up, his emotions surging violently. “You’re lying to me! How can anyone in this world kill themselves? Even if my father took his own life, there must have been someone who drove him to it.”

Grief welled up in Guo Jing’s heart, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Slowly, he said, “Guoer, your grandfather and my father were sworn brothers, closer than blood. Your father and I also swore an oath of brotherhood. If your father died unjustly, how could I not avenge him?”

Yang Guo’s body trembled. The words nearly burst from his lips: You killed him yourself, how could you avenge him? But he knew that if he spoke these words, Guo Jing would be on his guard, and assassination would become far more difficult. He nodded and remained silent.

Guo Jing said, “The matter of your father’s death is full of twists and turns, it cannot be told in a few words. When you asked about it back then, you were still young and could not understand the complexities. That is why I did not tell you. Now you have grown up and can clearly distinguish right from wrong. Once we have driven off the Tartars, I will tell you the whole story from the beginning.” He lay back on his pillow and returned to sleep.

Yang Guo had always known Guo Jing as a man whose word was absolute, he never spoke falsely. Hearing these words, he was torn between belief and doubt. He cursed himself inwardly: Yang Guo, Yang Guo, you have always acted with bold decisiveness, pressing forward without hesitation. Why are you so timid and wavering today? Are you afraid, deep down, of his martial prowess? If you hesitate and waver tonight and miss this chance, and tomorrow Huang Rong sees through you, then even Gugu may die without a burial place. The thought of Xiaolongnü rekindled his resolve. He reached inside his clothes and felt the dagger. The blade, pressed against his flesh, had grown warm.

Footnotes

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

2. 公孙止 – Gōngsūn Zhǐ. His name meaning “to cease” or “to stop”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

4. 裘千尺 – Qiú Qiānchǐ. Gongsun Zhi’s wife and Qiu Qianren’s younger sister; known as Iron Palm Lotus. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 玉枕穴 – Yùzhěn Xué. “Jade Pillow” acupoint, located at the back of the head. In traditional Chinese medicine and martial arts, applying pressure here can stop bleeding and calm the mind. ↩

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

7. 杨郎 – Yang Lang. “My Yang” or “Yang my husband.” An intimate form of address used by Xiaolongnü, expressing wifely affection. Suffix lang (郎) is a classical term of endearment for a husband or beloved. ↩

8. 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. ↩

9. 君子剑 – Jūnzǐ Jiàn. One of a legendary pair of swords. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

11. 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. ↩

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

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

14. 玉女素心剑法 – Yùnǚ Sùxīn Jiànfǎ. Paired sword technique of the Ancient Tomb School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 全真剑法 – Quánzhēn Jiànfǎ. Seven swords with seven forms, totalling forty-nine variations emphasising defence. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

16. 阴阳倒乱刃法 – Yīnyáng Dàoluàn Rènfǎ. Gongsun Zhi’s signature technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

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

19. 围魏救赵 (Wéi Wèi Jiù Zhào). “Besiege Wei to Rescue Zhao.” A classical Chinese military stratagem from Sun Bin: rather than directly reinforcing an ally under attack, strike at the enemy’s vulnerable rear to force them to withdraw. Here, Yang Guo attacks Jinlun Guoshi’s back to force him to abandon his assault on Xiaolongnü. ↩

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

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

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

23. 汉人经史百家之学 – Han classical learning. Hànrén Jīngshǐ Bǎijiā zhī Xué. Refers to the vast corpus of Chinese classical scholarship: the Confucian classics, historical records, and the works of the Hundred Schools of Thought. That the Mongolian Imperial Preceptor has mastered this body of knowledge underscores both his intelligence and Jin Yong’s theme that cultural borders are permeable. ↩

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

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

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

27. 气海穴 – Qìhǎi Xué. “Sea of Qi” acupoint, located approximately one and a half cun below the navel. Critical point in Daoist internal alchemy and martial arts — striking it can disrupt an opponent’s neili flow. ↩

28. 碧血剑法 – Bìxuè Jiànfǎ. Jade Blood Swordplay; a sword technique associated with the Xia clan. ↩

29. 公孙绿萼 – Gōngsūn Lǜ’è. Her name meaning “green calyx”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

30. Vegetarian diet. Valley-wide vegetarian rule existed solely to protect the Gongsun family’s Acupoint-Sealing Skill from accidental contamination. Entire community’s dietary habits were shaped by one family’s martial secret — a darkly ironic detail. ↩

31. 口喷枣核 – Kǒu Pēn Zǎohé. Qiu Qianchi’s only remaining martial art after her limbs were crippled. Through years of bitter practice in her underground prison, she developed the ability to spit date pits with lethal force and accuracy, making this seemingly absurd technique a genuinely fearsome hidden weapon. ↩

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

33. 狐狸精 – Húlijīng. In Chinese folklore, fox spirits are seductive supernatural beings who bewitch men. Qiu Qianchi uses this term to insult Xiaolongnü, implying she has used her beauty to enchant both Gongsun Zhi (“the old one”) and Yang Guo (“the young one”). ↩

34. 环跳穴, 阳关穴 – Huantiao and Yangguan acupoints. Huántiào Xué and Yángguān Xué. huantiao point is located on the hip/buttock area; the yangguan point is near the knee. Striking both simultaneously collapses the legs. ↩

35. “Lonely, lonely the white hare…”. This poem comes from an anonymous Han dynasty folk song. White hare, separated from its mate, runs east then west, never settling. Final couplet conveys the poem’s core message: new clothes may be finer, but old friends (and old loves) are irreplaceable. Yang Guo uses it to firmly and poetically reject Gongsun Lü’e while affirming his devotion to Xiaolongnü. ↩

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

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

38. 铁掌峰 – Tiězhǎng Fēng. Headquarters of the Iron Palm Sect, led by Qiu Qianren (Qiu Qianchi’s eldest brother). Guo Jing and Huang Rong were responsible for Qiu Qianren’s death there, as recounted in The Legend of the Condor Heroes. ↩

39. 放下屠刀，皈依三宝 – Laying down the butcher’s knife and taking refuge in the Three Treasures. Buddhist saying: even the most violent person can find redemption by renouncing violence and taking refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. Qiu Qianren, once a ruthless martial artist, became a monk under Great Master Yideng’s guidance. ↩

40. 释迦掷象功 – Shìjiā Zhìxiàng Gōng. Based on the Buddhist story of Prince Siddhartha (the future Buddha) hurling an elephant over the city walls. Technique uses supernatural strength to launch heavy objects at enemies. Story is allegorical, illustrating the Buddha’s extraordinary power. ↩

41. 忽必烈 – Hūbìliè. Grandson of Genghis Khan, founder of the Yuan Dynasty. At this point in the novel, he is a prince leading the Mongol campaign against the Southern Song. His portrayal here as a complex figure — charming to allies, ruthless to subordinates — reflects Jin Yong’s nuanced approach to historical characters. ↩

42. 吕文焕 – Lǚ Wénhuàn. Historical Song commander who defended Xiangyang for six years before finally surrendering to the Mongols in 1273. In the novel, he is portrayed as a mediocre official whose defence is propped up entirely by Guo Jing and the martial artists. ↩

43. 拖雷 – Tuōléi. Genghis Khan’s youngest son; sworn brother of the young Guo Jing. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

44. 金刀驸马 – Jīndāo Fùmǎ. Guo Jing’s Mongol title from his youth. After he helped Genghis Khan’s armies, he was betrothed to the Khan’s daughter Huazheng and given the golden blade as a symbol of his status. Though Guo Jing ultimately married Huang Rong, Mongol veterans of his generation still remember and revere him by this title. ↩

45. 蒙宋灭金 – Mongol–Song alliance against Jin. Southern Song and Mongols allied to destroy the Jin dynasty before the Mongols turned on the Song. ↩

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

47. 霍都王子 – Huòdū Wángzǐ. Literally Prince Huo Du; a Mongol princely title. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

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

50. 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. ↩

51. 为国为民，侠之大者 – “Serve the country, serve the people — this is what makes a true hero”. Wèi Guó Wèi Mín, Xiá zhī Dà Zhě. This is the single most famous line in the entire Condor Heroes trilogy and perhaps in all of Jin Yong’s work. It crystallises the novel’s moral philosophy: true heroism is not measured by martial prowess or personal vengeance, but by selfless devotion to one’s country and people. Chapter title “侠之大者” (What Makes a True Hero) derives directly from this line. It marks the pivotal moral turning point for Yang Guo and is the thematic heart of the entire novel. ↩