The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 23

Brotherhood and Rivalry.

Yang Guo¹ slept until the middle of the night when he suddenly heard the cry of a condor coming from the northwest. The call was slightly hoarse, yet stirring and desolate, filled with an imposing spirit. His curiosity piqued, he quietly dropped down from his rope and followed the sound. The cry came and went, far louder than the calls of the twin condors on Peach Blossom Island. As he walked, the ground gradually descended, and he entered a valley. The condor’s cry was now close ahead. Softening his footsteps, he parted the thicket and peered through. What he saw astonished him beyond words.

Beneath the pale moonlight stood an enormous condor. The bird was colossal, taller than a man, and ugly beyond compare. Its feathers were sparse and patchy, as though more than half had been plucked away. Their colour was a grimy yellow-black, yet each quill was as rigid as steel, giving them an appearance of formidable toughness. It bore perhaps five parts resemblance to the twin condors of Peach Blossom Island, but the gap between beauty and ugliness was as distant as heaven from earth. This hideous condor had a sharp, hooked beak, a bald crown, and atop its head grew a great, blood-red fleshy tumour. Among the thousands and thousands of birds under heaven, never had anyone seen so archaic and heroic a raptor. The condor strode to and fro with great, sweeping steps, its legs extraordinarily thick. It would occasionally extend its wings, but they were quite short, and it was impossible to tell how such a creature might fly. It walked with its head held high, surveying all around it with an air of commanding majesty.

The condor called out for a while, and soon a rustling came from nearby. Under the moonlight, four venomous serpents shot forth like arrows, their bodies gleaming in five colours as they hurled themselves at the ugly condor. The condor turned its hooked beak and struck four times in succession, pecking each serpent to death with pinpoint precision. The speed and accuracy of its movements would have put a first-rate martial arts adept to shame. Yang Guo watched this divine display of serpent-killing skill, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging slack. In that instant, the scorn and amusement he had felt earlier transformed into stunned admiration.

The ugly condor opened its great beak and swallowed one of the serpents whole. If I could catch this ugly condor, Yang Guo thought, and compare it with Guo Fu²’s twin condors, I would not come out the loser. He was still mulling over how to capture it when a rank, fishy stench struck his nostrils. Clearly, some great serpent or venomous creature was approaching.

The ugly condor raised its head and let out three sharp cries. wah, wah, wah, as if challenging its foe. There was a great rushing roar, and from a large tree opposite, a giant python as thick as a rice bowl and bearing a triangular head dropped down, hurtling straight at the ugly condor. The condor did not retreat in the slightest. Instead, it charged forward, its hooked beak darting out with lightning speed to peck out the python’s right eye. The condor’s neck was short and thick, appearing clumsy and slow to turn, yet it moved with such speed that even Yang Guo’s sharp eyes could not follow how it had blinded the python.

The python, now missing its right eye, convulsed in agony. Its great mouth opened wide and. smack, bit down on the bloody tumour atop the condor’s head. Yang Guo, caught off guard, could not help but cry out. Having succeeded with this one strike, the python’s body, fully two zhang in length, suddenly dropped from the treetop and coiled around the condor in several loops.

Unwilling to see the ugly condor fall prey to the serpent, Yang Guo leaped forth and drew his sword, preparing to strike at the python’s body. But suddenly, the condor’s right wing swept out and smacked against Yang Guo’s right arm with terrifying force. Caught completely off guard, Yang Guo lost his grip on the Gentleman’s Sword, and it flew several zhang away. Even as astonishment seized him, he watched the condor’s beak strike the python’s body several times in quick succession. With each peck, a jet of python’s blood shot forth. Could it be, Yang Guo thought, that you are certain of victory and do not wish for my help?

The python coiled tighter and tighter. The ugly condor bristled its feathers, straining with all its might. Fortunately, the condor seemed immune to the serpent’s venom, though the python had bitten its blood tumour, it showed no signs of poisoning. Yet under the python’s crushing embrace, it appeared to be weakening. Yang Guo picked up a large stone and pounded it against the giant python’s body again and again. The python’s coils loosened slightly. The ugly condor’s neck shot out and pecked out the python’s left eye as well. The python opened its great mouth and bit wildly in every direction, but now blind in both eyes, it could not hit anything.

Yang Guo picked up another stone and hurled it into the python’s mouth. The python could not spit it out. Seizing the moment, the ugly condor dug both claws into the python’s throat at the vital seven-inch point,³ pinning it to the ground while its sharp beak stabbed and pecked at the python’s head. The giant condor possessed heaven-sent, prodigious strength. The python’s entire body twisted and writhed, thrashing and flailing, but its head could not move in the slightest. After a long while, its body stretched out, stiffened, and lay still at last in death.

The ugly condor raised its head and cried out three times, then turned toward Yang Guo and gave a soft, gentle call.

Yang Guo sensed a friendly intent in its cry and slowly approached, saying with a smile, “Brother Condor, your divine strength is astonishing. I am in awe, in awe.” The ugly condor gave a low call and ambled over to Yang Guo’s side. It extended a wing and patted him lightly on the shoulder several times, as if thanking him for his earlier assistance. Delighted that the condor was so intelligent, Yang Guo reached out and gently stroked its back.

The ugly condor gave a few low calls, then seized the hem of Yang Guo’s robe in its beak and tugged several times before releasing it and striding off. Yang Guo understood that it must have some purpose, so he followed. The condor’s gait was astonishingly swift, racing through mountain rocks and grassy thickets like a galloping horse. Yang Guo had to use his qinggong just to keep up, and inwardly he was filled with admiration. The condor descended lower and lower until they came to the depths of a secluded valley. After walking for quite some time, they arrived before the mouth of a great cave. The ugly condor nodded its head three times before the cave, called out three times, then turned to look at Yang Guo.

Seeing that it seemed to be paying respects to something within the cave, Yang Guo thought, There must be some venerable senior living in this cave. The giant condor was surely raised and trained by him. I must not be remiss in courtesy. He knelt before the cave and performed several bows, saying, “Disciple Yang Guo pays respects to the senior. I beg forgiveness for trespassing upon your abode.” He waited a moment, but no answer came from within.

The condor tugged at the hem of his robe and strode inside. The cave was pitch black. Yang Guo did not know whether it housed some eccentric martial arts adept or some mountain spirit or tree demon. His heart was uneasy, but he had long since set life and death aside, so he followed the condor in.

The cave was actually quite shallow. After walking less than three zhang, he reached the end. Inside there was nothing but a stone table and a stone stool. The ugly condor called out toward one corner. Yang Guo saw a mound of rocks piled high in that corner, very much like a grave. It seems this is the burial place of some remarkable person, he thought. What a pity the condor cannot speak and tell me who this was. Looking up, he noticed what seemed to be writing on the cave wall, obscured by dust and moss and unreadable in the darkness. He struck a spark, lit a dead branch, and reached out to wipe away the moss from the stone wall. Three lines of text appeared. The strokes were exceedingly fine yet carved deep into the rock, clearly made with an extremely sharp blade. The three lines read:

I have roamed the jianghu⁴ for over thirty years, slain every foe and villain, defeated every hero and champion. Under heaven, none could stand against me. With no recourse left, I could only withdraw to this secluded valley and befriend the condor. Alas! In all my life I have sought a single worthy opponent and could not find one. Truly, this loneliness is unbearable.

Below was the signature: “The Sword Demon, Dugu Qiubai.”⁵

Yang Guo read these three lines over and over. He was both astonished and awed, and he felt deeply the loneliness and anguish contained within them. He thought, This senior was a peerless wonder. Only because he had no equal under heaven was he forced to live in seclusion in this deep valley. The depth and subtlety of his martial arts must have reached a realm beyond imagination. This man styled himself the “Sword Demon,” so naturally his swordsmanship was as divine as the gods. His given name was “Qiubai”. “Seeks Defeat.”⁶ He must have travelled the world seeking someone who could overcome him, yet never found such a person, and in the end passed away here in quiet despair. As Yang Guo reflected on the heroic spirit of this predecessor, he could not help but be carried away in reverie.

He lingered for a long while, then raised the burning branch and searched the cave thoroughly, but found no other trace or relic. The rocky grave mound bore no other markings. He surmised that after this peerless adept had died, the Divine Condor had carried stones in its beak and piled them over his body.

Yang Guo was lost in thought for a time, his admiration for this extraordinary predecessor growing ever deeper. Without thinking, he knelt before the stone grave and performed four full bows. The Divine Condor, seeing him show such respect to the stone grave, seemed pleased at heart. It extended its wing and patted him lightly on the shoulder again.

Yang Guo thought, In his parting words, Senior Dugu called the condor his friend. This condor, then, though a beast, is my senior. It would not be improper for me to call it Brother Condor. So he said, “Brother Condor, we have met by chance, and that too is fate. I must take my leave now. Would you rather stay here and keep vigil over Senior Dugu’s grave, or come with me?” The Divine Condor let out a few cries in reply, but Yang Guo could not understand their meaning. Seeing it stand unmoving beside the stone grave, he thought, None of the senior masters of the jianghu have ever mentioned Dugu Qiubai, so he must have lived at least sixty or seventy years ago. This Divine Condor has dwelt here for so long. Its heart is bound to this old place. Naturally it cannot leave with me. He wrapped his arms around the Divine Condor’s neck and shared a moment of affection with it before emerging from the cave.

In all his life, aside from the mutual devotion he shared with Xiaolongnü⁷, Yang Guo had only ever formed bonds with Huang Yaoshi⁸, Cheng Ying⁹, and Lu Wushuang¹⁰. Recently he had also come to know Gongsun Lü’e¹¹, who could be counted as a kindred spirit. Beyond these, he had no close friends. Now, meeting the Divine Condor, though one was man and the other bird, after fighting the python side by side they had formed a deep connection. Leaving the cave, he felt a lingering reluctance to part, turning back for one more look with every few steps he took. Each time he looked back, the Divine Condor answered with a cry. Even from more than ten zhang away, in the darkness, the Divine Condor could see him clearly, and every time Yang Guo turned around, it answered with a call, not a single one missed.

Suddenly, a rush of hot blood surged through Yang Guo’s chest. He cried out, “Brother Condor, Brother Condor! Your younger brother’s days are numbered. Once the matter of Uncle Guo’s infant daughter is settled and I have bid my final farewell to Gugu¹², I shall return here. To have my bones buried beside the great hero Dugu, that would be a life not lived in vain.” He bowed deeply, then strode away.

Worried about the safety of Guo Jing¹³’s baby daughter, Yang Guo retrieved the Gentleman’s Sword and hurried back toward the cave. As he neared the entrance, he heard Li Mochou¹⁴’s voice: “Where have you been? There’s a wandering ghost out here, weeping and wailing without end. Thoroughly irritating.” Yang Guo replied, “How could there be any ghost?” Before he had finished speaking, the sound of loud, unrestrained sobbing came from the distance.

Yang Guo started. Lowering his voice, he said, “Aunt Li, look after the child. Let me deal with this.” The sound of weeping drew nearer. Someone was crying and shouting as they approached: “How wretched I am, how wretched I am! My wife was murdered, and now my two sons want to fight each other to the death.” Yang Guo craned his neck to look. Under the starlight, he saw a large man with dishevelled hair, his face buried in his hands as he wept. He kept running in frantic circles, his clothes tattered and torn, his features impossible to make out clearly.

Li Mochou spat and said, “So it’s just a madman. Drive him away quickly, before he wakes the child.”

But the man wailed on: “In this world I have only these two sons, and they insist on killing each other. What use is an old man like me still living?” He shouted and cried with boundless grief. A thought stirred in Yang Guo’s heart: Could it be him? He stepped slowly out of the cave and said clearly, “Could this be Senior Wu?”

The man, who had been weeping in the wilderness with grief beyond restraint, had never imagined anyone would be here. He stopped his crying at once and barked fiercely, “Who are you? What are you doing skulking about here?”

Yang Guo cupped his fists and said, “This humble one is Yang Guo. Might the senior be surnamed Wu, with the given name Santong?”

This man was indeed the father of the Wu brothers, Wu Santong. Back in Jiaxing, he had been wounded by Li Mochou’s silver needles and had fainted as though dead. When he finally came to, he found his wife, Madam Wu, lying on the ground, sucking the poisoned blood from the wound on his left leg. Horrified, he cried, “San’niang,¹⁵ the poison on those needles is deadly beyond measure! How can you suck it out?” He pushed her away. Madam Wu spat a mouthful of poisoned blood onto the ground, smiled faintly, and said, “The black blood has turned red. It’s all right now.” Wu Santong saw that both sides of her face had turned a dark purple and was horrified. His voice trembling, he said, “San’niang, you… you…” Madam Wu had sacrificed herself to save her husband, knowing she would die. Stroking her two sons’ heads, she said in a low voice, “Ever since we married, you have been unhappy. A great mistake was made at the start, and there is no undoing it. I only beg you to raise our two children to adulthood and teach them to love and cherish each other all their lives…” Before she could finish, she breathed her last. Wu Santong, in the depths of his grief, went mad once again. He saw his two sons weeping over their mother’s body, but his own mind was an utter blank, knowing nothing. He simply turned and walked away.

Thus he wandered the jianghu in madness for several years. As time passed, his madness gradually subsided. Diancang Yuyin,¹⁶ after attending the Heroic Assembly at Dasheng Pass, was returning to the mountain when he travelled with a group of martial arts friends. In idle conversation, he heard them speak of such a person, whose appearance resembled that of his shixiong Wu Santong. After much searching, he finally found him.

Wu Santong learned that his beloved sons had grown up and, overjoyed, came to Xiangyang to see them. He arrived just as Jinlun Guoshi was wreaking havoc in the city, Guo Jing lay wounded, and Huang Rong¹⁷ had just given birth. After meeting with Zhu Ziliu and Guo Fu, he discovered that his two sons had drawn swords against each other. Remembering his wife’s dying words, his grief knew no bounds. He hurried out of the city in pursuit. Passing a dilapidated temple, he heard the clash of blades within. He entered to find Wu Dunru and Wu Xiuwen locked in combat. He had been separated from his sons for so long that, now grown, he could not recognise them at first. But seeing them wield swords in their right hands while using the Solitary Solar Finger technique with their left, he stepped forward at once and shouted for them to stop.

The Wu brothers, reunited with their father, wept tears of joy. Yet the moment Guo Fu was mentioned, neither would yield to the other. Wu Santong raged and scolded, pleaded and reasoned, trying every means to quell their love for Guo Fu, but he could never succeed. In their father’s presence, the Wu brothers dared not show open hostility, but the moment he took a few steps away, they began quarrelling again. That night, the two brothers secretly agreed to slip out at midnight to this desolate mountain and settle the matter once and for all. Wu Santong overheard their words. Overwhelmed with grief and fury, he rushed ahead to their appointed place, determined to stop his sons from fighting. Unable to control his emotions, the more he thought about it, the more anguish consumed him, until at last he could not help but wail his grief into the wilderness.

Now, his spirit in turmoil, he suddenly saw a young man emerge from a mountain cave. Immediately bristling with hostility, he barked, “Who are you? How do you know my name?” Hearing him admit his identity, Yang Guo said, “Uncle Wu, your nephew Yang Guo once lived together with your sons Dunru and Xiuwen at Great Hero Guo’s residence on Peach Blossom Island. I have long admired your esteemed name.”

Wu Santong nodded and said, “What are you doing here? Ah, I see. Dunru and Xiuwen are to duel here, and you have come to serve as witness. Humph! If you are truly their close friend, why did you not try to stop them? Instead you fan the flames, eager to watch the excitement. What kind of friend is that?” By the end, his voice had turned harsh, and he poured all his fury onto Yang Guo. Cursing, he stepped forward and raised a massive palm, intent on teaching this faithless youth a lesson.

Yang Guo saw his bristling whiskers and imposing bearing, and thought there was no reason to fight him. He retreated two steps and said with an apologetic smile, “Your nephew had no idea the two Brother Wus were coming to duel. Uncle, you must not blame the wrong person.” Wu Santong bellowed, “Still trying to talk your way out of it? If you did not know beforehand, why are you here? The world is vast, yet you happen to be in this desolate mountain valley?” Yang Guo thought, This man is beyond reason. And indeed, meeting him in this remote place was quite a coincidence. For a moment, he did not know how to explain.

Wu Santong saw his hesitation and was convinced this young man was up to no good. Having suffered heartbreak in his youth, he had always felt an instinctive loathing for handsome young men. A thought stirred: This boy may not even know my sons. Skulking about here, he must have some other scheme. In his fury, he gave no further thought and swung his right palm down toward Yang Guo’s shoulder. Yang Guo shifted aside. Wu Santong’s right palm struck empty air. He crooked his left arm and drove an elbow strike forward. Yang Guo saw the heavy power behind the move and dared not be careless. He stepped diagonally and evaded again. Wu Santong shouted, “Not bad, boy, your qinggong is passable! Draw your sword and fight!”

At that moment, the baby in the cave suddenly woke and cried a few times. Yang Guo’s heart stirred: He and Li Mochou share the blood-debt of his wife’s murder. The moment they lay eyes on each other, it will be a fight to the death. Once they start trading lethal blows, I may not be able to protect the baby. So he smiled and said, “Uncle Wu, your nephew is a junior. How could I dare fight you? But since you insist on suspecting me, there is nothing to be done. How about this: I will let you strike three more times. If you cannot kill me, then you must leave this place at once. What do you say?”

Wu Santong flew into a rage. “Arrogant brat! Just now I held back, showing mercy. And now you dare to scorn me?” His right index finger shot forth, it was the Solitary Solar Finger.¹⁸ Decades of bitter training had given him profound power. Yang Guo watched the finger waver. Though its approach seemed slow, every major acupoint on the upper half of his body lay within the finger’s range. He had no idea which point it was aimed at, and because he did not know, all nine major points were in danger. He immediately extended his middle finger and flicked it against Wu Santong’s finger, it was the Divine Finger Flick technique that Huang Yaoshi had taught him.¹⁹

The Divine Finger Flick and the Solitary Solar Finger had stood as equals in reputation for decades, each supreme in its own way. But Yang Guo’s power was shallow, he had studied for only a short time, and after learning it he had never devoted himself to deep practice. How could he compare with Wu Santong’s decades of single-minded dedication? The two fingers met. Yang Guo felt his right arm shake violently and his whole body grow hot. He staggered back five or six steps before barely managing to steady himself and avoid falling.

Wu Santong let out a surprised “Yi!” and said, “The boy really did stay on Peach Blossom Island.” On one hand, he was bound by regard for Huang Yaoshi. On the other, seeing one so young actually block his life’s consummate technique stirred a fondness for talent. He shouted, “The second finger is coming! If you cannot block it, then don’t try. I would not have you shatter your internal organs. I will not take your life.” Saying this, he advanced several steps and thrust another finger, this time aimed at Yang Guo’s abdomen.

This finger covered an even wider range of acupoints. All twelve major points of the chong meridian across the belly, from the Youmen and Tonggu above, down through the Zhongzhu and Siman, all the way to the Henggu and Huiyin below, fell entirely within the power of this one finger.²⁰ Yang Guo saw how swift and fierce the strike was. If he tried to counter with the Divine Finger Flick again, he feared not only would his finger break, but as the man had warned, his internal organs might be shaken apart. In desperation, he used the move “The Zither’s Heart Communicates in Secret.”²¹ With a soft ring, the Gentleman’s Sword left its sheath and stood guard two inches before his belly. Wu Santong’s finger was about to touch the blade when he hastily pulled back. The third finger followed immediately, swift as lightning, aimed straight at Yang Guo’s brow. He was certain the boy could not possibly draw his sword back to guard in time.

Yang Guo saw the finger coming with terrifying speed, impossible to neutralise. In this crisis, he used the Heaven-spanning Net, Earth-binding Snare technique that Xiaolongnü had taught him.²² With a whoosh, he suddenly dropped low and darted between Wu Santong’s legs, moving with indescribable swiftness. Though this move was lightning-quick, the posture was utterly undignified, a complete loss of face. Fortunately, he was the junior, passing beneath a senior’s legs was not such a great matter.

Wu Santong did not even have time to cry “Aiyo!” before he felt the other’s palm pat his left shoulder lightly. Then he heard Yang Guo laugh and say, “Uncle Wu, your third finger is truly formidable.” Wu Santong stood stunned for a moment, then lowered his hands and retreated. His expression bleak, he said, “Heh heh, heroes truly do emerge from the young. This old man is useless now.”

Yang Guo hurriedly sheathed his sword and bowed, saying, “Your nephew’s dodge was too unsightly. If this were a real contest, your nephew would already have lost.” Wu Santong felt slightly better and sighed. “Not necessarily. Just now, if you had thrust your sword into my back, this old life would be gone. That move of yours was truly clever. A crude old fellow like me was never meant to best clever, nimble youngsters…” Before he could finish, the sound of footsteps came from the distance, two people were approaching side by side. Yang Guo pulled Wu Santong’s sleeve and hid him behind a thicket. The footsteps drew nearer. Sure enough, it was the two brothers, Wu Dunru and Wu Xiuwen.

Wu Xiuwen halted his steps and looked around. “Big Brother,” he said, “this place is open enough. Let us do it here.” Wu Dunru said, “Good.” He was a man of few words. With a shing, he drew his longsword. Wu Xiuwen did not draw his. Instead he said, “Big Brother, in today’s duel, if I prove no match for you, even if you spare my life, I as your brother could not go on living. Those three great duties, avenging our mother, caring for our aged father, and cherishing Sister Fu, you, Big Brother, must shoulder them all alone.” Hearing this, Wu Santong’s heart ached, and two teardrops fell.

Wu Dunru said, “We both understand this in our hearts. Why speak of it further? If you defeat me, it will be the same.” So saying, he raised his sword and assumed a stance. Wu Xiuwen still did not draw. He stepped forward and said, “Big Brother, you and I lost our mother as children. Our father was far away. We two brothers depended on each other for survival, and never once did we quarrel. To have come to this point. Big Brother, you do not blame me, do you?” Wu Dunru replied, “Little Brother, this is the will of heaven. Neither of us can control it.” Wu Xiuwen said, “Whoever lives and whoever dies, we must never let the slightest word of this leak out, lest Father and Sister Fu be grieved.” Wu Dunru nodded. He grasped Wu Xiuwen’s left hand. The two brothers faced each other in silence, and for a long time, neither spoke.

Wu Santong watched the two brothers speak with such deep fraternal affection, and his heart was greatly comforted. He was about to leap out and scold them for even thinking of such a foolish, reckless act when suddenly both brothers shouted in unison, “Good! Come!” They leaped backward simultaneously. Wu Xiuwen reached out, his longsword flashing forth. Shing, shing, shing, three thrusts in quick succession. Under the starlight, the white blade flew like a streak of light, his strikes astonishingly swift. Wu Dunru parried each one, and on the third exchange he turned the blade, deflecting and counter-thrusting, then followed with two strikes of his own, each aimed at Wu Xiuwen’s vital points. Wu Santong’s heart gave a violent lurch, but he saw Wu Xiuwen dart aside at an angle and evade with ease.

In the desolate valley, only the continuous clashing of the two swords could be heard. The two brothers fought with lethal intent, showing no mercy whatsoever. Wu Santong watched, both anxious and grief-stricken. Both were sons he loved more than his own life, and since their childhood he had never shown the slightest favouritism. Seeing their every sword stroke so vicious and cruel, as if they were fighting a mortal enemy rather than each other, he knew that if this continued, one of them would surely be wounded. If he revealed himself now and shouted for them to stop, they would certainly cease at once. But if they did not fight today, they would fight to the death tomorrow. He could not follow his sons at every moment, guarding them without leaving their side. The more he watched, the more his heart ached. Thinking of the tragedy of his own life, tears streamed down his face like rain.

Yang Guo had held a grudge against the Wu brothers since childhood. Even after their reunion, considerable resentment still lingered between them. By nature he was extreme and narrow-minded, and at first he took a certain malicious pleasure in watching the two fight. But then he saw Wu Santong weeping with such grief, and he thought of how his own days were numbered. A benevolent impulse rose within him: In all my life, I have never done anything that benefited another person. After I die, Gugu will of course grieve, but besides her, those who will remember me are only a handful of kindred spirits. Cheng Ying, Lu Wushuang, Gongsun Lü’e. Why not do a good deed today and make this old man remember my kindness for the rest of his life? His mind made up, he brought his lips to Wu Santong’s ear and whispered, “Uncle Wu, your nephew has a plan to make your two sons stop fighting.”

Wu Santong’s heart jolted. He turned his head, his aged face streaked with tears, his eyes filled with gratitude. Yet he still half-doubted, unable to imagine what clever scheme could possibly untie this death knot. Yang Guo said quietly, “But it will offend your two sons. Uncle, you must not hold it against me.”

Wu Santong gripped his hands tightly, too moved to speak. In his youth, he had known nothing of the taste of love. He had married at his parents’ command, and afterward had been entangled in the sin of passion, unable to free himself. But since his wife’s death, recalling the profound debt he owed her for giving her life to save his, his obsessive love for He Yuanjun had gradually faded. In his old age, his love for his sons had only deepened. So long as his two sons lived in peace and harmony, he would gladly give his own life. Now, in the depths of despair, hearing these words from Yang Guo was like suddenly meeting a bodhisattva of salvation. His joy and gratitude were beyond measure.

Seeing his expression, Yang Guo’s heart ached. If my father were still alive, he thought, he would surely love me just the same. He said in a low voice, “You must not let them discover you, or my plan will fail.”

By now, the Wu brothers were fighting ever more fiercely. Both were using the Sword of the Yue Maiden,²³ passed down through the line of Han Xiaoying, one of the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan.²⁴ The two had practised it together since childhood, they must have drilled it thousands of times. But this was a life-and-death struggle. Not half a move could be mistaken. It was entirely different from their usual sparring. Wu Xiuwen was nimble and agile, darting forward and leaping back, ceaselessly seeking openings to attack. Wu Dunru guarded his position tightly, occasionally thrusting a counter-strike, but his moves were vicious and ruthless, his power heavy and fierce.

Yang Guo watched for a while and thought, Uncle Guo’s martial arts are the strongest of our age, yet he seems to have failed in his method of teaching disciples. The Wu brothers are of mediocre aptitude to begin with. It looks as though they have not learned even one-tenth of Uncle Guo’s skill. Suddenly he burst into a long, ringing laugh and strode out at a leisurely pace.

The Wu brothers were badly startled. They leaped apart, hands on their swords, staring. When they recognised Yang Guo, they shouted in unison, “What are you doing here?” Yang Guo laughed. “And what are you two doing here?” Wu Xiuwen gave a hollow chuckle. “My brother and I had nothing to do in the middle of the night, so we thought we would practise our swordplay.” Yang Guo thought, Little Wu is quick-witted after all. To spin such a lie on the spot, as if nothing were amiss. He gave a cold laugh and said, “Practising swordplay to the point of risking your lives, heh heh, such dedication, such dedication!” Wu Dunru said angrily, “Get out of here. My brother’s business is none of yours.”

Yang Guo sneered. “If you were truly just practising, naturally it would be none of my business. But every move you make, your hearts are filled with thoughts of my Sister Fu. If I don’t intervene, who will?” When the Wu brothers heard the words “my Sister Fu,” their hearts shook, and both their swords trembled involuntarily. Wu Xiuwen said harshly, “What nonsense are you spouting?” Yang Guo said, “Sister Fu is Uncle Guo’s and Aunt Guo’s own daughter, is she not? Marriage is decided by the parents’ command, is it not? Uncle Guo long ago betrothed Sister Fu to me. You both know this perfectly well, yet here you are in secret, fighting a duel over my future wife. Do you two take me, Yang Guo, for a man or not?”

He delivered this speech with righteous fury, and the Wu brothers were instantly struck speechless. They did indeed know that Guo Jing had always intended to take Yang Guo as a son-in-law, but Huang Rong and Guo Fu did not care for him. Now, having their secret suddenly laid bare, the brothers exchanged a glance, at a loss for words. Wu Xiuwen, the quicker thinker, sneered, “Hah! Your future wife? You have the nerve to say it! Has there been a matchmaker? Have you exchanged betrothal gifts? Have you sent the formal notice?”

Yang Guo gave a cold laugh. “Oh, so the two of you have the parents’ command and the matchmaker’s word, then?” In the Song dynasty, ritual and propriety were paramount. Marriage absolutely required the parents’ command and the matchmaker’s word. The Wu brothers had originally planned that after their duel, the loser would take his own life and the winner would propose to Guo Fu. With no other choice left to her, she would naturally have to accept. Then together they would beg Guo Jing and Huang Rong for their blessing. Never had they imagined that Yang Guo would step in and interfere. Wu Xiuwen pondered for a moment, then said, “That Uncle Guo intends to betroth Sister Fu to you, perhaps there is some truth in that. But Mistress intends to betroth her to one of us brothers. Right now, the three of us are in the same position, none has any formal claim. Whom Sister Fu will belong to in the end is still hard to say.”

Yang Guo tilted his head back and laughed heartily. Wu Xiuwen said angrily, “Was I wrong?” Yang Guo laughed. “Wrong, wrong. Uncle Guo is certainly fond of me, but Aunt Guo is even fonder. How can you two compare?” Wu Xiuwen said, “Hah! You talk nonsense, and who believes it?” Yang Guo laughed again. “Haha, Aunt Guo privately promised her to me long ago. Otherwise, why would I go to such lengths to rescue my father-in-law and mother-in-law? It is all for the sake of my Sister Fu. Tell me, has your shifu’s wife ever personally given her word to either of you?”

The two Wus exchanged a look of alarm. They thought, Mistress has indeed never given any definite word, not even the slightest hint. Could it be that she really did promise him? They had been about to fight to the death, but now a powerful rival had suddenly appeared. United against a common enemy, the two brothers unconsciously drew a step closer together.

Yang Guo had once overheard Guo Fu speaking with the two brothers. Deliberately trying to provoke their jealousy, he said with a sly smile, “Sister Fu once said to me: those two Brother Wus, they cling to her so tightly she has no way to refuse, so she can only say she likes them both. Haha, in this world, how could a good woman love two men at once? My Sister Fu is virtuous, modest, and chaste, she would certainly never do such a thing. Let me tell you the truth: ‘liking both’ means liking neither.” Then, mimicking Guo Fu’s tone from that night, in a soft, delicate voice, he said: “Little Brother Wu, you are so considerate to me, you cherish me so, you cannot know how difficult this is for my heart. Big Brother Wu, you are always so sullen and strange. What is it you want to say to me?”

The Wu brothers’ faces changed colour instantly. These were words Guo Fu had spoken to each of them separately. With no third person present, how could Yang Guo possibly know them unless she herself had repeated them? A pain like a knife twisting in the heart seized them both. They thought of how Guo Fu had always refused to promise herself, so this was the reason.

Yang Guo saw their expressions and knew his scheme had worked. Solemnly he said, “In short, Sister Fu is my future wife. In days to come, she and I will share a hundred years of happiness, grow old together with hair turned white, treat each other with the respect of honoured guests, and our descendants will flourish without end…” At this point, he suddenly heard a long, soft sigh from behind him. It was Xiaolongnü’s voice! Yang Guo blurted out, “Gugu!” But there was no answer. Then he realised it was Li Mochou in the cave. She must absolutely not be seen by the Wu father and sons. So he continued loudly, “You two brothers are indulging in wishful thinking, making yourselves laughingstocks for nothing. For the sake of my father-in-law and mother-in-law, I will not hold this against you. Go back to Xiangyang properly and help my father-in-law and mother-in-law defend the city. That is the right thing to do.” He was now calling Guo Jing and Huang Rong “father-in-law” and “mother-in-law” with every other breath.

The Wu brothers’ spirits were crushed. They reached out and clasped each other’s hands. Wu Xiuwen said wretchedly, “Very well, Brother Yang, I wish you and Junior Sister Guo blessings… blessings without end. We two brothers will wander to the ends of the earth. It will be as if we never existed in this world.” Together they turned to leave.

Yang Guo secretly rejoiced. He thought, Now they hate me to the bone, and they must also deeply resent Guo Fu. But from now on, the two brothers will be as close and loving as their old father always wished.

Wu Santong, hiding behind the thicket, had heard Yang Guo’s words persuade his beloved sons to stop fighting. His heart swelled with joy. Seeing his two sons walking away hand in hand, he could not help but cry out, “Wen’er! Ru’er! Let us go together!”

The two Wus heard their father’s shout. Startled, they cried out in unison, “Father!” Wu Santong bowed deeply to Yang Guo and said, “Brother Yang, I will remember your kindness and profound goodwill for the rest of my life.” Yang Guo could not help but frown. How could these words be spoken in front of the two Wus? He tried to change the subject, but Wu Xiuwen was already growing suspicious. He said, “Big Brother, what this fellow says may not be true.” Wu Dunru was not skilled with words, but his shrewdness was in no way inferior to his brother’s. He glanced at his father, then turned to his brother and nodded.

Wu Santong saw that things were about to go wrong and said hastily, “Do not misunderstand. I did not ask Brother Yang to persuade you.” The Wu brothers had only been slightly suspicious before, but hearing their father’s words, which so transparently tried to cover up what had already been revealed, they suddenly remembered that Yang Guo had never gotten along with Guo Fu, and that his devotion to Xiaolongnü ran deep. Most of what he had just said was probably false. Wu Xiuwen said, “Big Brother, let us go back to Xiangyang together and ask Sister Fu ourselves.” Wu Dunru said, “Good! No matter what sweet words others spin, we must not be deceived.” Wu Xiuwen said, “Father, you come to Xiangyang too. Uncle Guo and Aunt Guo are old friends of yours. You should go see them.” Wu Santong stammered, “I… I…” His face flushed bright red, not knowing what to do. He wanted to assert the dignity of a father and scold his sons harshly, but he feared they would only pretend to obey in his presence while going off to fight to the death behind his back.

Yang Guo sneered. “Brother Wu the Second, ‘Sister Fu’, are those words you are permitted to speak? From this day forward, not only may you not say them, you may not even think them.” Wu Xiuwen raged, “Fine! Is there truly such an unreasonable man under heaven? I have called her ‘Sister Fu’ for seven or eight years. Not only will I say it today, I will say it in the days to come. Sister Fu, Sister Fu, my Sister Fu…” Suddenly. smack! Yang Guo had landed a solid slap across his left cheek.

Wu Xiuwen leaped back two steps, holding his sword crosswise. In a low, gravelly voice, he said, “Good, Yang. We have not fought in many years.” Wu Santong shouted, “Wen’er! Why fight for no reason?” Yang Guo turned his head and said solemnly, “Uncle Wu, whose side are you on, exactly?” By all reason, Wu Santong should have sided with his sons. But Yang Guo had stepped forward precisely to stop the brothers from killing each other. Wu Santong found himself tongue-tied, unable to speak. Yang Guo said, “How about this: you sit here quietly and watch. I will not harm their lives, and I expect they cannot harm mine. Just enjoy the show.” Though Yang Guo was far younger than Wu Santong, his words carried such authority that Wu Santong could not help but obey. He sat down on a rock as instructed.

Yang Guo drew the Gentleman’s Sword. Its cold light flickered. With a slash, he cut a large pine tree beside him clean in two. He pushed out with his left palm, and the upper half of the pine toppled to one side. The cut was smooth and even. The Wu brothers saw how razor-sharp his sword was and could not help but exchange a look of alarm. Yang Guo sheathed his sword and laughed. “This sword is not meant for dealing with the two of you.” He casually broke off a branch, stripped away the leaves, and shaped it into a wooden rod about three chi long. “You said my mother-in-law is partial to me, but I am sure you two refuse to believe it,” he said. “Very well, I will use only this wooden rod, while the two of you use your swords together. You may use the martial arts taught by my father-in-law and mother-in-law, or the Solitary Solar Finger taught by your Uncle Zhu. I, however, will use only the skills my mother-in-law taught me. If I use so much as one move from any other school, I will count it as my loss.”

The two Wus had originally feared his martial prowess. They had seen him fight Jinlun Guoshi twice, his moves bizarre and unorthodox, techniques they could not even recognise. But now, hearing him call Guo Jing and Huang Rong “father-in-law” and “mother-in-law” with every breath, as if Guo Fu had truly married him, how could they not be furious? What was more, he was arrogantly claiming he would fight one against two, using a wooden rod against sharp swords, and limiting himself to skills Huang Rong had privately taught him. The two brothers thought, We hold three advantages. If we still cannot win, we have no face left to live in this world.

Wu Dunru felt that winning this way would be no victory at all. He shook his head and was about to speak when Wu Xiuwen preempted him. “Fine! This is your own arrogance. It is not that we brothers want to take advantage of you. If you mistakenly use a single move from the Quanzhen school or the Ancient Tomb school, what then?” He was thinking: True, this boy’s martial arts are strong, but only because he learned superior techniques from Quanzhen and the Ancient Tomb. Back on Peach Blossom Island, we two brothers beat him until he fled for his life. What was so remarkable about him then? So he used these words to corner Yang Guo.

Yang Guo said, “We duel today not for old grudges, nor for new hatred, but for Sister Fu. If I lose, then if I ever look at her again or speak a single word to her, may I be a beast lower than a pig or a dog. But if you lose?” These words, of course, forced the brothers to make the same vow.

At this point, Wu Xiuwen had no choice but to say, “If we two brothers lose, we too will never see Sister Fu’s face again.” Yang Guo turned to Wu Dunru. “And you?” Wu Dunru said angrily, “My brother and I are of one heart and mind. How could we speak differently?” Yang Guo laughed. “Good. If you lose today and break this pledge, then you are beasts lower than pigs and dogs. Is that right?” Wu Xiuwen said, “Correct. And the same goes for you. Take this!” With that, he thrust his longsword toward Yang Guo’s leg. Wu Dunru struck simultaneously, his blade guarding Yang Guo’s left flank. In a single exchange, they had already formed a pincer attack.

Yang Guo leaped straight forward, calling out, “When brothers are united in heart, their sharpness can cut through metal.²⁵ You two brothers fighting together, truly formidable!” Wu Dunru raised his sword and pressed the attack. Yang Guo raised his wooden rod but only dodged and weaved, not yet striking back. He said, “‘A wife is like clothing, but brothers are like your own limbs. When clothing tears, it can be mended. When a limb is severed, it cannot be reattached.’²⁶ Have you heard that poem?” Wu Xiuwen barked, “What are you babbling about? Why don’t you use the skills your shifu’s wife privately taught you?” Wu Dunru said nothing, only intensifying his sword power.

Yang Guo said, “Good, watch carefully! The exquisite techniques personally taught by my mother-in-law are coming now!” So saying, he flipped his wooden rod upward and hooked downward, using the “Tripping” formula of the Dog-beating Staff Technique.²⁷ His left hand extended, finger pointing at Wu Dunru’s acupoint. Wu Dunru dodged backward. Wu Xiuwen let out a cry as the wooden rod tripped him and sent him sprawling.

Yang Guo had first learned the moves of the Dog-beating Staff Technique from Hong Qigong²⁸ on the summit of Mount Hua. Later, he had overheard Huang Rong teaching the staff formulae to Lu Youjiao and had pieced together about thirty percent on his own. After that, inside the stone formation, Huang Rong had instructed him in the core principles, and Yang Guo had resolved his lingering doubts through questioning, achieving a thorough understanding. By now he had grasped about seventy or eighty percent of the Dog-beating Staff Technique’s essence and application, lacking only in practice. Now that he deployed it, how could the two Wus possibly withstand him?

Wu Dunru saw his brother at a disadvantage. His longsword shot forth in a rapid thrust, attacking Yang Guo fiercely. Yang Guo said, “Indeed, born of the same womb, sharing hardship together.” The wooden rod flickered, and in the blink of an eye he had somehow circled behind Wu Dunru. Smack, he struck him across the buttocks. The rod seemed to move slowly, yet it always struck from angles the opponent could never anticipate. The Dog-beating Staff Technique was endlessly unpredictable, as unfathomable as the workings of ghosts and gods. Wu Dunru felt no real pain from the blow, but it was clearly a lost exchange, and a secret fear began to grow in him.

Wu Xiuwen scrambled up and shouted, “That is the Dog-beating Staff Technique! How is that something Mistress secretly taught you? It was clearly something we all saw together when Mistress was teaching it to Elder Lu! You stole a few moves on the sly. What does that prove?” Yang Guo extended his wooden rod and. smack, tripped him again, this time sending him pitching forward onto his face. Wu Dunru swept his sword horizontally, shielding his brother.

Yang Guo waited for Wu Xiuwen to climb back up, then laughed and said, “We all saw it together. So why is it that I can use it and you cannot? What my mother-in-law told Elder Lu was only the oral formulae. The actual moves were taught to me by my mother-in-law in private. Even my Sister Fu does not know them. How could you?”

Wu Xiuwen did not know about Yang Guo’s unique encounters, how Hong Qigong had explained the moves to him while duelling Ouyang Feng²⁹, or how later, inside the stone formation, Huang Rong had given him detailed instruction so he could help her fight Jinlun Guoshi. He thought, There is probably some truth in his words. Otherwise, why would he be able to use the staff the moment he heard the oral formulae while I understood nothing at all? Still, he stubbornly argued, “That is because each person’s character is different. This staff technique can only be used by the Chief of the Beggars’ Sect. Having overheard it by accident, without Mistress’s command, how could we dare steal the knowledge? Only a base, despicable person would memorise it so carefully. You have no shame, only inviting the ridicule of others.”

Yang Guo laughed heartily. The wooden rod feinted, and smack, smack, he landed a strike on each of their backs. The Wu brothers leaped back in haste, their faces flushing bright red. Yang Guo laughed. “Right now there is no one to bear witness. Even if I beat you with the Dog-beating Staff Technique, your mouths may submit but your hearts will not. Very well, I will use another technique secretly taught by my mother-in-law. Let me give you a taste.” He looked at Big Wu, then Little Wu, and asked, “Who taught my mother-in-law her martial arts?”

Wu Xiuwen said angrily, “If you keep babbling ‘mother-in-law’ this and ‘mother-in-law’ that with such shamelessness, we will not speak to you anymore.” Yang Guo smiled. “Why be so petty? Fine, let me ask you: before your shifu’s wife became Elder Hong’s disciple, from whom did she learn her martial arts?” Wu Xiuwen said, “my shifu’s wife is the daughter of Island Master Huang of Peach Blossom Island. Her martial arts are the direct transmission of Island Master Huang. Who under heaven does not know this?” Yang Guo said, “Correct. You lived on Peach Blossom Island for many years. Do you know what Island Master Huang’s supreme skill is?” Wu Xiuwen said, “Island Master Huang’s literary talent and martial strategy are all-encompassing. There is no such thing as one supreme skill.” Yang Guo said, “That is not wrong either. But taking swordsmanship as an example, what sword technique does Island Master Huang use?” Wu Xiuwen said, “Why ask what you already know? Island Master Huang’s Jade Flute Swordplay stands alone in the jianghu, shaking the jianghu with its fame. There is no one who does not know of it.”

Yang Guo said, “Have you ever seen Island Master Huang?” Wu Xiuwen said, “Of course we have seen Island Master Huang.” Yang Guo said, “Then have you seen his Jade Flute Swordplay?” Wu Xiuwen sneered. “Island Master Huang rarely demonstrates his palm or sword techniques before us juniors. But that year on Island Master Huang’s birthday, Aunt Guo held a banquet in distant tribute. After the banquet, she performed it once to display the wondrous subtlety of the Island Master’s martial arts. We two brothers and Sister Fu did indeed see it with our own eyes. At that time, Brother Yang had already gone to Quanzhen to seek a more enlightened teacher.” Yang Guo laughed. “Indeed. And afterward, my mother-in-law… very well, afterward your shifu’s wife secretly taught the Jade Flute Swordplay to me.”

The Wu brothers exchanged a glance, both shaking their heads in disbelief. They thought, Back then, Yang Guo did indeed become Huang Rong’s student, but we all knew that Mistress only taught him to read and study, never passing on any martial arts. That was why, when we fought on Peach Blossom Island, he was no match for us brothers. That final push that injured Wu Xiuwen. Grandpa Ke said it was the Toad Skill of the Western Poison, Ouyang Feng. The Jade Flute Swordplay is complex and profound. Even Guo Fu, Mistress’s own beloved daughter, has not been taught it to this day. Since Yang Guo returned from Mount Zhongnan, every meeting with Mistress has been a brief encounter before parting. Even if Mistress had wanted to teach him swordplay, she would hardly have had the time. Watching him hold the wooden rod like a sword, they thought, If we use our swords to cut through his wooden rod, that will count as a win.

Yang Guo lightly swung the wooden rod and called out, “Watch! This is ‘Xiao Shi Rides the Dragon’!”³⁰ Using the rod as a sword, he thrust it forth. With a soft thump, it struck Wu Dunru’s right chest. Had the rod been a sharp sword, it would have pierced straight through his chest, and his life would already have been forfeit.

Wu Xiuwen was quick to react. His longsword shot out, attacking Yang Guo’s right flank. But he was still a step too slow. Yang Guo’s wooden rod swept back and suddenly stabbed toward his right wrist. This move was launched later yet arrived first. Before Wu Xiuwen’s sword tip could touch the opponent’s body, his wrist would be struck by the rod’s tip, and his sword would inevitably fly from his grasp. He hurriedly pulled back his sword and changed his move, retracting his wrist and withdrawing his blade while kicking out with his left leg. But Yang Guo’s wooden rod had already thrust toward Wu Dunru’s shoulder, his body following the rod, weaving defence into attack. He evaded Wu Xiuwen’s kick without seeming to evade it at all. Wu Xiuwen’s kick met empty air, while Wu Dunru found himself in dire straits, frantically sweeping his longsword to guard his position, barely keeping the rod from striking his body.

Within a few exchanges, the two Wus were in complete disarray. They could barely defend themselves with desperate effort, how could they possibly spare a thought for cutting through his wooden rod? Yang Guo called out the names of the moves as he executed them: “Pure Tone Beyond the Mountains,” “Golden Sound, Jade Resonance,” “The Phoenix Song Carries Far,” “Echoes Across the Terrace,” “Oarsong on the Midstream”…³¹ The wooden rod thrust continuously, each movement flowing with effortless grace, every stroke an attack. Before the two Wus could neutralise one move, the second and third were already bearing down on them. He stabbed from the east, slashed from the west, forcing the two Wus to fight shoulder to shoulder in defence, not daring to separate by even half a step.

When the two Wus had watched Huang Rong perform this swordplay, they had merely glanced at it and thought nothing more. They had assumed those elegant, ornamental moves were only for show, meant purely for performance. How could they have imagined such subtle and wondrous applications hidden within? The names Yang Guo called out, it seemed Huang Rong had indeed spoken them that day. Under the rod’s relentless pressure, the two Wus were not only miserably constrained in their swordplay, but far more painfully, their hearts were crushed. They were now utterly convinced that Yang Guo had truly received personal instruction in the Jade Flute Swordplay from Huang Rong. How could they have imagined that Yang Guo had spent many days with Huang Yaoshi and received the old master’s direct guidance in both the Jade Flute Swordplay and the Divine Finger Flick?

Yang Guo saw the wretchedness in their expressions and felt a slight pang of pity. But he thought, If you are going to do a good deed, do it thoroughly. If I do not beat them into complete submission today, so that they never dare see Guo Fu’s face again, then the two brothers will surely fight over her again someday, until one of them ends up dead. As the saying goes: If the medicine does not make you dizzy, the illness will not be cured.³² To wield the knife and cure the disease, the patient must be made to suffer some pain. He pressed his attack, stroke after stroke, not relaxing for a single move. The two Wus grew more and more alarmed as they fought. The rod’s shadow flickered everywhere. It seemed all the vital points of their bodies were already within the reach of its tip. They could only grit their teeth and defend with everything they had.

The Sword of the Yue Maiden that the two Wus had learned was, in its own right, an extremely formidable sword art. But the two had not yet achieved sufficient mastery, and Guo Jing, clumsy with words, was not adept at explaining the subtle mysteries and profound intricacies of the technique in detail. Thus, although the brothers could certainly hold their own against ordinary jianghu fighters, against a great master like Yang Guo and his wooden rod, their flaws were exposed at every turn, leaving them utterly helpless. Yang Guo’s Jade Flute Swordplay was itself far from perfected, but his martial arts were so far above the two Wus’ that when he mixed in a move or two of Jade Maiden Swordplay at the transitions, the two Wus could not tell the difference. What was more, their hearts were filled with anguish and grief, and their fury only made their movements more chaotic.

Yang Guo did not use lethal moves, but instead gradually channelled his neili³³ into the rod. After fighting for a while, the two Wus felt a powerful suction force emanating from the branch in his hand, pulling their swords askew. A thrust that was clearly aimed at the opponent would end up veering left or skewing right. The pulling force grew stronger and stronger, until eventually the two brothers were nearly fighting each other. Wu Dunru’s strike aimed at Yang Guo would nearly hit his brother, while Wu Xiuwen’s slash toward Yang Guo would force his elder brother to use every ounce of his strength just to parry.

Yang Guo laughed long and cried out, “The subtleties of the Jade Flute Swordplay do not end here. Watch carefully!” With a thock, the wooden rod met Big Wu’s longsword, but it struck the flat of the blade, leaving the rod completely undamaged. Wu Dunru immediately felt an immense adhesive force pulling outward. His sword was nearly torn from his grasp. He hurriedly poured his strength into pulling it back. Yang Guo’s wooden rod followed the momentum and pushed diagonally, catching Wu Xiuwen’s longsword as well, then pressed downward. Both sword tips struck the ground at once. The Wu brothers strained to pull back, and just as they felt a slight loosening, Yang Guo stepped forward with his left foot, pinning both swords to the ground. The wooden rod darted up, its tip touching each of their throats lightly. “Do you submit?” he asked with a smile.

Had the rod been a sharp blade, both their throats would already have been slit. Even with just a wooden rod, if he had applied slightly more force, both would have suffered severe injury. The two Wus’ faces were as pale as death. They stood in silence, their spirits crushed. Yang Guo lifted his left foot and retreated three steps. Seeing the two brothers in such a wretched state, he thought of how they had beaten and humiliated him in childhood, and now at last he had his revenge. A look of satisfaction crept unbidden across his face.

The two Wus no longer harboured the slightest doubt. They were thoroughly convinced that Yang Guo had indeed received Huang Rong’s secret transmission of consummate skills. But having been hopelessly in love with Guo Fu since childhood, to lose her after a single fight, to never see her again, was something their hearts could not accept. And they felt that in the duel just now, Yang Guo had seized the initiative from the very start, after which they had been scrambling to parry in disarray, not even able to use one-tenth of the martial arts their shifu had taught them. The Solitary Solar Finger they had newly mastered had not had a single chance to be deployed. Wu Xiuwen suddenly shouted, “Big Brother, if we stop here, what taste is left in living? We might as well fight to the death with him!” Wu Dunru’s heart shuddered. He cried, “Yes!” The two levelled their swords and attacked, no longer guarding their own vital points. Every move was pure offence.

With this change in tactics, their power indeed surged. The two attacked without defending, risking their lives under Yang Guo’s rod, determined to drag him down to mutual destruction even if it cost them their lives. Yang Guo’s wooden rod pointed at their vital points, but the two Wus ignored it completely. Their right hands wielded swords while their left hands deployed the Solitary Solar Finger technique. Each unleashed his life’s consummate skills, intent on taking the enemy’s life. Yang Guo laughed. “Good! Now this is more like it!” He tossed aside the wooden rod and wove between their blades, now and then clapping his palms together to show he still had strength to spare.

Wu Santong watched the three fight. At one moment he hoped Yang Guo would win, so that his two sons would abandon their obsession with Guo Fu. Yet at the next, seeing his sons repeatedly in mortal danger, he could not help wishing they would defeat Yang Guo instead. His heart rose and fell in ceaseless turmoil.

Suddenly, Yang Guo let out a clear whistle. He extended his finger and flicked each of their swords. zheng, zheng! The two longswords flew spinning into the air. Yang Guo leaped up, caught both swords in his hands, and laughed. “This Divine Finger Flick, that too was taught by my mother-in-law!”

At this point, the Wu brothers knew that continuing the fight would only bring further humiliation. Yang Guo reversed the swords and tossed them back lightly, cupping his fists. “My apologies for the offence.” Wu Xiuwen caught his sword and said wretchedly, “It is settled. I shall never see Sister Fu again.” So saying, he turned the blade across his own throat. Wu Dunru, his heart sharing his brother’s resolve, simultaneously raised his sword to cut his own throat. Yang Guo was horrified. He shot forward, and. zheng, zheng, his fingers flicked both swords again. The two blades flew outward, their edges clashing with a ringing clang, and both snapped in two at the same instant.

At that very moment, Wu Santong had also leaped forward. Seizing each son by the back of the neck, he barked fiercely, “For the sake of a woman, you would throw away your own lives? You are not worthy to be called men!”

Wu Xiuwen raised his head and said wretchedly, “Father, did you… did you not also grieve your whole life… for the sake of a woman? I…” Before he could finish, under the starlight, he saw the tear-streaked face of his father, clearly wracked with unbearable grief. He suddenly remembered that his brother’s duel had deeply wounded their old father’s heart. With a wail, he burst into tears. Wu Santong released his grip and pulled him into his embrace, his left arm wrapping around Wu Dunru as well. Father and sons clung together in a tight knot. Wu Dunru thought of the sincerity of his own feelings for Guo Fu, how could he have imagined that behind his back she had grown close to Yang Guo, and that even his shifu’s wife had concealed it from him and his brother, passing on her life’s consummate arts to the son-in-law of her heart? It seemed everyone else in the world was false and deceitful. Only the bond between father and sons, between brothers, was true. Burying his face in his father’s chest, he too could not hold back his tears.

Yang Guo, by nature wild and untamed, had acted with genuinely good intentions, yet he had also humiliated the Wu brothers beyond measure. Watching the three of them, father and sons, clinging to each other with such love, he could not help but think: They, father and sons, brothers, how close and warm they are. But I have neither father nor brothers. Then he thought, Though my days are numbered, at least before I die, I have done one good deed.

Wu Santong said, “Foolish children, what great man ever feared he would have no wife? Since that girl Guo has no true feelings for you, why cling to her? What is the most important matter before us father and sons right now?” Wu Xiuwen raised his head and said, “To avenge our mother’s great wrong.” Wu Santong said fiercely, “Yes! Even if we father and sons must travel to the ends of the earth, we must find that Scarlet Serpent demon, Li Mochou.”³⁴

Yang Guo was alarmed. I must lead these three away quickly, he thought. If Aunt Li overhears this, it will be a disaster. The thought had barely formed when, from within the cave, Li Mochou’s cold laugh rang out: “Why travel to the ends of the earth? Li Mochou has been waiting here all along.” She emerged from the cave, the infant cradled in her left arm, her horsetail whisk in her right hand. The cool breeze stirred her robes, her bearing was utterly composed.

The Wu father and sons had never imagined that this demoness would appear here and now. Wu Santong let out a great roar and threw himself at her. Wu Dunru and Wu Xiuwen, their swords broken, each snatched up a half-blade and attacked from left and right. Yang Guo cried out, “All four of you, stop! Hear a word from me!” Wu Santong’s eyes were bloodshot. He shouted, “Brother Yang, we kill this demoness first, then talk!” Even as he spoke, his left palm and right finger had already unleashed three lethal strikes. The Wu brothers’ blades were broken, but fighting at close quarters, the half-swords were no less effective than daggers.

Yang Guo knew they bore a blood-debt that no words of his could make them set aside. His only fear was that the baby might be harmed. He called out, “Aunt Li, give me the child to hold!”

Wu Santong started and retreated two steps. “Why do you call her Aunt-Master?” he asked. Li Mochou laughed. “Good martial nephew, attack this madman from behind. I will hold the child myself.” She had taken three of Wu Santong’s strikes and felt that his power had greatly advanced, quite different from when they had fought in Jiaxing. The Wu brothers were no common fighters either. The three of them attacking with reckless abandon was proving rather difficult to handle. So she deliberately called Yang Guo “good martial nephew” to divide the three men’s attention. Wu Santong fell for it at once. He shouted, “Ru’er, Wen’er, guard against that Yang! I will fight this demoness alone!” Yang Guo lowered his hands and retreated, saying, “I will help neither side. But you absolutely must not harm the child.” Wu Santong saw him withdraw and felt slightly more at ease. He pressed his palm power, attacking relentlessly.

Li Mochou whirled her horsetail whisk in defence and said, “Two young masters Wu, from what I saw of your conduct just now, you can be counted as men of deep feeling, not like those heartless, faithless, contemptible men. In consideration of this, I will spare your lives today. Leave now, quickly!” Wu Xiuwen raged, “You thieving bitch! You wolf-hearted, dog-lunged fiend of a woman! What right do you have to speak of deep feeling or shallow feeling?” So saying, he pressed close and unleashed a flurry of vicious moves. Li Mochou said angrily, “Stinking brat, you don’t know what’s good for you!” Her whisk spun, rolling out circle after circle from the inside outward. The two Wus’ broken blades clashed against her whisk, and they felt their chests shake violently. Their blades nearly flew from their hands. Wu Santong struck out with a whistling palm. Li Mochou swept her whisk back to block, and only then were the two Wus freed from danger.

Yang Guo slowly circled behind Li Mochou, waiting only for the slightest opening in her defences to lunge forward and snatch the baby from her arms. But the Wu father and sons were fighting with great shouts and reckless abandon, forcing Li Mochou to keep her whisk whirling around her entire body. He could not find the smallest gap. Watching the Wu father and sons attack with complete disregard, their moves showing not the slightest concern for avoiding the baby, if any mishap occurred, how could he face Guo Jing and his wife? He cried out loudly, “Aunt Li, give me the child!” He charged forward, swinging his palm to knock aside the whisk, and reached for the baby.

By now, Li Mochou was surrounded on all sides by enemies, with no hand free to contest him. But she could not bear to let him take the child so easily. She barked fiercely, “You dare to snatch? One squeeze of my arm, and we will see whether this child lives or dies!” Yang Guo froze. How could he dare advance?

This moment of divided attention was all Wu Santong needed. His left palm struck with ferocious force, a finger hidden within the palm. His right index finger stabbed into Li Mochou’s waist. Half of Li Mochou’s body went numb instantly. She stumbled, nearly falling, and used the momentum to kick Wu Dunru’s broken blade from his hand. Her whisk swept fiercely toward Wu Xiuwen. Wu Santong seized Wu Xiuwen by the back of his collar and yanked him backward, barely saving him from that soul-chasing, life-snatching sweep. Li Mochou was gravely wounded. Her whisk swept continuously as she fought her way back into the cave.

Wu Santong was overjoyed. “The bitch has taken my finger strike! She will not escape death today!” he shouted. The Wu brothers, clutching their broken blades, were about to charge into the cave when Wu Santong said, “Wait! Beware the bitch’s poisoned needles. Let us hold this position and think of a safe plan…” Before he could finish, a great roar burst from the cave, and a leopard came charging out.

This savage beast appeared so abruptly that Wu Santong and his two sons were all badly startled. In that moment of shock, a flash of silver shot out, from beneath the leopard’s belly, several silver needles suddenly flew forth. This was something none of them could possibly have anticipated. Fortunately, Wu Santong’s martial arts were deep and profound, his reactions swift. In this crisis, he leaped into the air, the silver needles passing beneath his feet. But he heard both Wu brothers cry out, and his heart pounded wildly with terror. Then he saw Li Mochou roll out from under the leopard’s belly and mount its back. Her horsetail whisk was tucked into the collar behind her neck. The baby was in her left arm, and with her right hand she gripped the leopard’s neck. She laughed a long, ringing laugh. The leopard bounded several times and leaped into a mountain stream.

This move had also caught Yang Guo completely off guard. He watched the leopard racing away and sprinted after it, shouting, “Aunt Li…” Wu Santong saw his two beloved sons lying motionless on the ground. Grief and anxiety blazed through him like fire. He threw his arms around Yang Guo and cried, “Today I will fight you to the death!” Yang Guo, utterly unguarded, was caught in his embrace. He said urgently, “Let go! I must get the child back!” Wu Santong cried, “Fine, fine, fine! Let us all die together, and be done with it!” Yang Guo frantically used Small Seizing and Grappling techniques³⁵ to pry open his fingers. Wu Santong, in his panic and desperation, had gone somewhat mad again, yet his martial arts had not diminished in the slightest. His left arm held Yang Guo tight around the waist while his right hand hooked, sealed, blocked, and locked, countering with Small Seizing and Grappling of his own.

Yang Guo saw that Li Mochou, riding the leopard, had already vanished without a trace. There was no hope of catching her now. He sighed and said, “Why are you holding on to me? Saving them from their wounds is what matters!” Wu Santong said joyfully, “Yes, yes! The wounds from the poisoned needles, can you save them?” He released Yang Guo’s waist. Yang Guo bent down to examine the Wu brothers. One silver needle had struck Wu Dunru in the left shoulder, the other had hit Wu Xiuwen in the right leg. In just this brief moment, the poison had already spread. Both brothers were breathing shallowly, unconscious. Yang Guo tore a strip of silk from Wu Dunru’s robe, wrapped it around the tail of each needle, and pulled them out one by one. Wu Santong asked frantically, “Do you have the antidote? Do you have the antidote?” Yang Guo looked at the two Wus, saw that the poison was deep and they were beyond saving, and shook his head in despair.

Wu Santong’s love for his sons was bone-deep. His heart felt as though it were being twisted by a knife. He remembered how his wife had sucked the poison from his own wound and died for it. Suddenly he threw himself onto Wu Xiuwen and pressed his mouth to the wound on his son’s leg. Yang Guo was horrified. “You must not!” he cried. He thrust out a finger and struck the Dazhui acupoint on Wu Santong’s back.³⁶ Wu Santong, caught off guard, toppled over at once, unable to move. He could only stare at his two beloved sons, tears streaming down his cheeks.

A thought stirred in Yang Guo’s heart: In six more days, the passion flower poison in my body will erupt. Living six more days or six fewer, what difference does it make? The Wu brothers are men of mediocre character, but this Uncle Wu is a man of the deepest, truest feeling, someone after my own heart. His whole life has been misfortune. Enough, enough. I will sacrifice these six days of my life. Let father and sons be reunited, to comfort his old heart. So he bent down to Wu Xiuwen’s leg and sucked the poisoned blood from the wound. After spitting out several mouthfuls of poisoned fluid, he did the same for Wu Dunru.

Wu Santong watched from the side, remembering how his wife had sucked the poison from his own wound, saving his life while losing her own. Now Yang Guo was reenacting that very scene. Wu Santong’s heart swelled with gratitude beyond measure, but pinned by the sealed acupoint, he could not join in sucking the poison. Yang Guo took turns at the two Wus’ wounds, sucking for some time. The bitter taste in his mouth gradually turned salty, but his head grew dizzier and dizzier. He knew he was deeply poisoned. He sucked forcefully a few more times, spat out the poisoned fluid, and then everything went black before his eyes. He collapsed, unconscious.

For a long, long time after that, he knew nothing. Gradually, blurred shadows seemed to waver before his eyes. He tried to see clearly, but the more he looked, the more indistinct they became. He did not know how much time passed before he finally opened his eyes. Wu Santong was looking at him, his face brimming with joy. “Good, good!” he cried. Then he suddenly dropped to his knees and kowtowed more than a dozen times with loud thuds. “Brother Yang, you… you saved my… my two children, and you saved this old life of mine as well.” He scrambled to his feet and threw himself before another person, kowtowing to him. “Thank you, Martial Uncle, thank you, Martial Uncle!”

Yang Guo looked at that person. His face was dark, with a high nose and deep-set eyes. His features bore some resemblance to Nimoxing. His hair was short and tightly curled, a pure snowy white. He was an old man. Yang Guo knew that Wu Santong was a disciple of Great Master Yideng, but he had not known that Wu Santong had a martial uncle from India.³⁷ He tried to sit up, but found he had not the slightest strength. Looking around, he realised he was lying in a bed, in the very room he had once stayed in at Xiangyang. Only then did he understand that he was not dead, that he could still see Xiaolongnü one more time. He could not help crying out, “Gugu! Gugu!”

A person came to the bedside and gently pressed a hand to his forehead. “Guoer, rest well. Your Gugu had business outside the city and has gone out.” It was Guo Jing. Seeing that Guo Jing’s wounds had healed, Yang Guo’s heart was greatly comforted. But then he remembered: For Uncle Guo’s wounds to heal required seven full days and nights. Could it be that I was unconscious for so many days? But then why has the passion flower poison in my body not erupted? A wave of confusion washed over him, his mind went hazy, and he sank back into deep sleep.

When he woke again, it was night. A red candle burned by the bedside. Wu Santong was still sitting at the head of the bed, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Yang Guo. Yang Guo gave a faint smile and said, “Uncle Wu, I am all right. You need not worry. Are both Brother Wus well?” Wu Santong’s eyes brimmed with hot tears. He could only nod, unable to speak.

Yang Guo had never in his life received such gratitude from anyone and felt rather embarrassed. He changed the subject and asked, “How did we get back to Xiangyang?” Wu Santong wiped his tears with his sleeve and said, “My junior brother Zhu, entrusted by your shifu, Miss Long, delivered the Sweat-blood Horse to you in that desolate valley. He found the four of us collapsed on the ground and brought us back to the city.” Yang Guo said, puzzled, “How did my shifu know I was in that valley? And what business kept her from coming herself, that she had to ask Elder Zhu to bring the horse to me?” Wu Santong shook his head. “After I returned to the city, I did not meet Miss Long either. Junior Brother Zhu said that though she is very young, her martial arts have reached a realm of divine transcendence. What a pity I had no chance to pay my respects this time. Such a young hero, so extraordinary. I told Junior Brother Zhu that all our years have been lived in the bodies of dogs.”³⁸

Hearing him praise Xiaolongnü with such sincere regard, Yang Guo was very pleased. By age, Wu Santong could easily have been Xiaolongnü’s father, yet he had used the words “pay my respects.” Naturally, it was through the disciple that he honoured the master. Yang Guo smiled faintly and began, “Your nephew’s wound…” But he had spoken only four words when Wu Santong rushed on: “Brother Yang, in the jianghu, it is common for people to help one another in times of danger. But to sacrifice yourself to save others, as you did, saving my two sons, who had so grievously offended you in the past, such great benevolence and righteousness, apart from my own shifu, no one else could ever…” Yang Guo shook his head repeatedly, signalling him to stop.

Wu Santong ignored him and continued, “If I were to call you benefactor, I am sure you would not accept it. But if you call me ‘Uncle’ again, then you are clearly looking down on me, Wu Santong.” Yang Guo, by nature straightforward and never one to stand on ceremony, had already taken Xiaolongnü as his wife in his heart. He was always happy to flout custom and reverse all proper forms of address. So he said cheerfully, “Very well, I will call you Big Brother Wu instead. But when I meet your two sons, it will be awkward to address them.” Wu Santong said, “Address them how? Their petty lives were saved by you. They should be your oxen and horses for the rest of their days.”

Yang Guo said, “Big Brother Wu, you need not thank me so profusely. I am afflicted with the deadly poison of the passion flower. I was already unlikely to live. Sucking the poison for your two sons was nothing remarkable at all.” Wu Santong shook his head. “Brother Yang, that is not how it is. Never mind whether the poison in your body is truly incurable, even if it were certain that no medicine could save you, every extra moment a man lives is a moment worth having. Even the span of a single breath is something no one would willingly give up. There is no one in this world who does not die. Even if your martial arts reach the heavens, in the end you must still die. Yet why does every person still delight in life and loathe death?”

Yang Guo smiled and asked, “How many days has it been since we returned to Xiangyang?” Wu Santong said, “Today is the seventh day.” A look of confusion crossed Yang Guo’s face. “By all reason, I should already have died from the poison’s eruption. How is it that I am still alive? How strange.” Wu Santong said joyfully, “That martial uncle of mine is a divine monk from India. In healing wounds and curing poisons, he can be counted the finest under heaven. Years ago, when my shifu mistakenly took the poison sent by Madam Guo, it was he who cured him. I will go fetch him at once.” And he bustled excitedly out of the room.

Yang Guo’s heart leaped with joy: Could it be that while I was unconscious, that Indian divine monk gave me some miraculous elixir, and even the passion flower’s deadly poison has been neutralised? Where has Gugu gone? If she learns that I may not die, how happy she will be! His thoughts wandered into tender imaginings. His heart gave a flutter, and suddenly his chest felt as though it had been struck by a giant iron hammer. The pain was unbearable. He could not help but cry out in agony. Since taking the half-pill given by Qiu Qianchi³⁹, he had never experienced such excruciating pain. He realised the half-pill’s medicinal effect had worn off, yet the poison in his body had not been eliminated. He clutched his chest, his teeth grinding audibly. In moments, his entire head was drenched in sweat.

Just as the pain was becoming unbearable, he heard a Buddhist invocation from outside the door: “Namo Amitabha!” The Indian monk entered with his palms pressed together. Wu Santong followed behind. Seeing Yang Guo in such a wretched state, he was badly startled and asked, “Brother Yang, what is wrong?” He turned to the Indian monk and said, “Martial Uncle, the poison is erupting! Quickly, give him the antidote!” The Indian monk did not understand his words. He walked over and took Yang Guo’s pulse. Wu Santong said, “Right!” He hurried off to fetch his junior brother Zhu Ziliu to translate. Zhu Ziliu was well-versed in Sanskrit and the Buddhist canon and could converse with the Indian monk.

Yang Guo steadied his breathing for a long while, and the pain gradually subsided. He explained the circumstances of his poisoning to the Indian monk. The Indian monk asked in great detail about the appearance of the passion flower and was greatly astonished. He said, “The passion flower is a rare bloom from ancient times, long since extinct. The Buddhist scriptures record that in those days, the passion flower harmed countless people. It was the Bodhisattva Manjusri who, through the power of his great wisdom, dissolved it from the world. Who would have thought it still survives in the Middle Kingdom? This old monk has never seen this flower and truly does not know how its poison might be neutralised.” His face bore an expression of deep pity. After Zhu Ziliu had finished translating the Indian monk’s words, Wu Santong cried out repeatedly, “Martial Uncle, have mercy! Martial Uncle, have mercy!”

The Indian monk pressed his palms together and intoned, “Amitabha!” He closed his eyes, lowered his brows, and bowed his head in deep thought. The room was utterly silent. No one dared to speak. After a long while, the Indian monk opened his eyes and said, “Layman Yang sucked the poison for my two grand martial-nephews. By the toxicity of those Soul-freezing Silver Needles,⁴⁰ merely sucking a few mouthfuls should have caused instant death. Yet Layman Yang is still alive and well, and the passion flower poison, though its time has come, has also not proven fatal. Could it be that poison has fought poison, the two deadly venoms attacking and restraining each other, and Layman Yang has instead reaped a good result?” Zhu Ziliu nodded repeatedly and translated these words. Yang Guo also felt there was sense in them.

The Indian monk continued, “As the saying goes, good deeds bring good rewards. Layman Yang sacrificed himself for others, this is truly the greatest compassion. This poison must surely have a cure.” Hearing Zhu Ziliu’s translation, Wu Santong leaped up with joy and cried, “Then please, Martial Uncle, administer the treatment at once!” The Indian monk said, “This old monk must make a journey to Passionless Valley⁴¹.” Yang Guo and the other two were all taken aback. The journey to Passionless Valley was not short. Going and returning would take considerable time. The Indian monk said, “This old monk must see the passion flower with his own eyes and test its toxicity before he can attempt to formulate an antidote. Before this old monk returns, Layman Yang must absolutely not stir the slightest thought of love or longing. Otherwise, each bout of pain will be worse than the last. If your vital essence is damaged, then even I will not be able to save you.”

Before Yang Guo could answer, Wu Santong said loudly, “Junior Brother, let us all go to Passionless Valley and force that old beggar woman to hand over the antidote.” Zhu Ziliu had been wounded by Huodu that day, and Yang Guo had used a clever scheme to obtain the antidote for him. He had long harboured a desire to repay this kindness. He said, “Exactly. We will escort our martial uncle there together. Whether we two brothers seize it by force or our martial uncle formulates it, we must obtain that antidote.”

The two shixiong spoke with great enthusiasm, but the Indian monk only gazed steadily at Yang Guo, his brows deeply furrowed with worry.