The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre Chapter 5 Part 5

Yin Susu’s¹ face blossomed with delight at his words, a warmth suffusing her features that Bai Guishou² had never before witnessed. He had long known her to be cold of countenance and merciless of heart, a woman who never spared the slightest warmth for any young man. Yet the manner in which she regarded Zhang Cuishan³ was altogether different, and Bai Guishou perceived at once that this man held no small place in her affections. Furthermore, Zhang Cuishan had praised his internal cultivation and professed no interest in the sabre. His wariness dissolved entirely.

“Miss Yin, the Sea Sand Sect, the Giant Whale Guild, and the Divine Fist School—their people arrived long ago,” he said. “There are also two young swordsmen of the Kunlun School.⁴ Those two are insufferably haughty, strutting about as though the island were theirs. How unlike Zhang the Fifth Xia, whose renown spans all under heaven yet who conducts himself with such gracious humility. It is clear that true skill begets true refinement—”

He had scarcely finished speaking when a voice rang out from beyond the hill, “Sneering and slandering behind others’ backs—what manner of conduct is that?”

The words had barely faded before two men came striding around the slope. Both wore long robes of dark blue,⁵ with swords slung across their backs. They appeared to be twenty-eight or twenty-nine years of age, their faces set in frosty disdain, bearing the unmistakable air of men spoiling for a quarrel.

Bai Guishou laughed. “Speak of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao arrives.⁶ Come, let me make the introductions.”

The two young Kunlun swordsmen had been on the verge of flaring into open anger, but at that very instant their eyes fell upon Yin Susu. Her luminous beauty struck them like a physical blow, and both hearts lurched in their chests. One gaped at her without blinking; the other managed a single glance, hastily turned away, but then could not help himself and stole sidelong looks at her from the corner of his eye.

Bai Guishou pointed to the one who stood transfixed. “This is Gao Zecheng,⁷ the illustrious swordsman.”

He indicated the other. “And this is Jiang Litao,⁸ the equally illustrious swordsman. Both are esteemed masters of the Kunlun School. The Kunlun School, whose name shakes the Western Regions! Whose martial arts conceal unfathomable secrets! And Gao and Jiang here are the very finest—the most outstanding, the most exceptional, the most extraordinary figures of their entire school. Having journeyed all the way to the Central Plains, they shall certainly dazzle us with a magnificent display of skill and open our humble eyes.”

The mockery dripping from every word was plain enough. Zhang Cuishan expected the two to either draw their blades or at least fling some cutting retort. To his astonishment, both men merely nodded vaguely, murmuring absent-minded acknowledgements as though they had not heard a single word. A second glance at their faces told the whole tale—from the moment they had set eyes upon Yin Susu, one gawking openly, the other stealing furtive peeks, both had been struck so witless with infatuation that their very souls had fled.

Zhang Cuishan suppressed a laugh. The Kunlun School’s fame rings throughout the realm, and their swordsmanship is said to approach the divine. Yet these are the disciples they produce—what a pair of sorry fools.

Bai Guishou continued, “This is Zhang Cuishan of the Wudang Order. This is Miss Yin Susu. And this is Altar Master Chang Jinpeng⁹ of our humble Order.”

When naming these three, his tone was deliberately understated, without a single flourish of embellishment. For Zhang Cuishan, he used merely the address “Zhang Cuishan”—not even “Zhang the Fifth Xia”—the easy familiarity of one introducing a close companion rather than a distinguished guest.

Yin Susu’s heart swelled with quiet pleasure. Her gaze drifted to Zhang Cuishan’s face, dark eyes gleaming with soft light, and a dimple flickered at the corner of her lips.

Gao Zecheng saw the tenderness with which she looked upon Zhang Cuishan and shot him a vicious glare, green with jealousy.

“Shidi,” he said coldly to Jiang Litao, “when we were in the Western Regions, I seem to recall hearing that the Wudang Order was supposed to be one of the great orthodox schools of the Central Plains.”

Jiang Litao nodded. “Indeed. I believe I heard as much.”

Gao Zecheng went on, “It would appear that what one hears falls rather short of what one sees. Hearsay, it seems, is not to be trusted.”

Jiang Litao replied, “Is that so? The jianghu¹⁰ is full of idle rumour. Eight or nine tales out of ten prove baseless. What was it about the Wudang Order, shixiong?”

Gao Zecheng’s lip curled. “How is it that disciples of a supposed orthodox school consort with the minions of an evil cult? Is that not a willing descent into depravity?”

The two traded lines like actors in a performance, launching their provocation squarely at Zhang Cuishan. Little did they know that Yin Susu herself was of the Heavenly Eagle Order.¹¹ Their use of “evil cult” had been aimed only at Bai Guishou and Chang Jinpeng.

Zhang Cuishan’s anger flared at such brazen discourtesy, and he was on the point of answering in kind. But a moment’s reflection stayed his tongue. He had come to Wangpan Island¹² for one purpose alone: to investigate whoever had crippled Yu Daiyan.¹³ These two Kunlun disciples, though a year or two his senior, were clearly obscure and untried men, freshly emerged from their school. It would not do to lower himself to their level.

Besides, the Heavenly Eagle Order was indeed a ruthless organisation—the readiness with which Yin Susu and Chang Jinpeng slew without scruple was proof enough. He could not afford to be entangled with such people. He offered a faint smile. “I have only just made the acquaintance of these members of the Heavenly Eagle Order. In that regard, I am no different from the two of you.”

These words took everyone by surprise. Bai Guishou and Chang Jinpeng had assumed that Yin Susu shared a deep bond with Zhang Cuishan; the revelation that they were mere new acquaintances left them speechless. Yin Susu’s face darkened with anger, for Zhang Cuishan’s words made plain his disdain for the Heavenly Eagle Order. As for Gao Zecheng and Jiang Litao, they exchanged cold smirks.

This fellow is a spineless wretch, they thought. The moment he heard the name of the Kunlun School, he turned craven.

Bai Guishou composed himself. “All our honoured guests have now arrived. Only Young Guild Chief Mai of the Giant Whale Guild has yet to appear, but we shall not wait for him. In the meantime, please feel free to explore the island at your leisure. At noon, we shall gather in the valley yonder to drink wine and view the sabre.”

Chang Jinpeng laughed. “Young Guild Chief Mai’s vessel met with misfortune. It was Zhang Cuishan who ordered his rescue. He is resting aboard one of our ships and will be brought to the feast in due course.”

Zhang Cuishan saw the two altar masters treating him with conspicuous deference, and Yin Susu’s every glance spoke of tender longing. Yet his resolve was firm: the further he kept from these people, the better.

“I should like to walk about on my own,” he said. “Pray do not trouble yourselves on my account.”

Without waiting for a reply, he raised a hand in farewell and strode off toward the belt of trees to the east.

Wangpan Island was a small and desolate place, its rocky shores and sparse woodland offering little of scenic interest. At the south-eastern corner lay a harbour, where a dozen or more vessels rode at anchor, their masts jutting skyward—the ships of the Heavenly Eagle Order, the Sea Sand Sect, and their various allies, no doubt. Zhang Cuishan walked along the shoreline at an idle pace. Though he was deeply troubled by Yin Susu’s casual brutality, his thoughts kept circling back to her with a persistence he could neither explain nor suppress.

This Miss Yin commands a position of great eminence within the Heavenly Eagle Order. Both altar masters attend upon her as though she were a princess of the blood. Yet she is plainly not the Grand Master. What, then, is her standing? His ruminations shifted. The Heavenly Eagle Order intends to display the sabre here and assert its dominance. Their adversaries—the Sea Sand Sect, the Divine Fist School, the Giant Whale Guild—have all sent their foremost leaders. Yet the Sect dispatches only two altar masters to preside, showing not the slightest concern for any of them. Judging by Altar Master Bai of the Black Tortoise Altar, whose bearing and prowess seem to surpass even Altar Master Chang of the Vermilion Bird Altar, the Heavenly Eagle Order is already a grave and growing threat to the entire wulin.¹⁴ I had best use this opportunity to learn what I can of their strength, for the day may come when Wudang cannot avoid a reckoning with them, however much we might wish it.

He was still deep in thought when the clash of blades reached his ears from beyond the trees. Curiosity drew him forward, and through the dappled shade he spied Gao Zecheng and Jiang Litao, each with sword in hand, exchanging strokes while Yin Susu looked on with a smile playing about her lips.

Zhang Cuishan’s pulse quickened. Shifu has often spoken of the Kunlun School’s swordsmanship and its singular brilliance. In his youth, he once crossed paths with a Kunlun master bearing the epithet Sword Saint.¹⁵ Such an opportunity to observe their art does not come often.

Yet it was a grave breach of martial etiquette to watch another practitioner train uninvited. Much as he wished to study their technique, he would not violate the customs of the jianghu. He permitted himself a single glance, then turned to withdraw.

But that one glimpse was enough. Yin Susu had already spotted him. She beckoned with a wave. “Zhang the Fifth, come here!”

Were he to retreat now, it would only confirm the suspicion that he had been spying. He squared his shoulders and walked over. “These two gentlemen are at their practice. Let us not intrude—shall we walk a while in another direction?”

Before Yin Susu could answer, a flash of white steel split the air. With a sharp hiss, Jiang Litao reversed his blade in a sudden upward sweep, and Gao Zecheng staggered back, blood welling from a gash on his left arm. Zhang Cuishan started in alarm, thinking it an accidental wound. But Gao Zecheng did not so much as grunt. His face went livid, and in a blur of movement he struck back with three savage thrusts, each one aimed at a vital point. Only then did Zhang Cuishan understand: this was no mere practice bout. They were fighting in deadly earnest.

Yin Susu laughed. “It would seem the shixiong is the lesser swordsman. Jiang’s bladework is the more refined, would you not say?”

Gao Zecheng’s jaw tightened. He spun on his heel, angling his blade into the classical guard, and unleashed Hundred-Fathom Cascading Falls.¹⁶ The sword plunged from above like a torrent of water hurling itself from a great height.

Zhang Cuishan could not help but cry out in admiration, “Magnificent swordwork!”

Jiang Litao contracted his body and twisted desperately aside, but Gao Zecheng’s momentum had not yet spent itself when the stroke transformed mid-flight. The sword tip shivered, and with a sharp exhalation it drove into Jiang Litao’s left thigh. Yin Susu clapped her hands in delight. “So the shixiong has a trick or two of his own after all! Poor Jiang—you have been bested this time!”

Jiang Litao snarled, “We shall see about that.”

His swordwork shifted abruptly, the blade now tracing slanting, unpredictable arcs—the Rain Beating Scattered Blossoms¹⁷ technique. Every stroke cut on the oblique, darting and drifting with an ethereal grace, yet amid seven or eight diagonal passes a single straight thrust would appear without warning, confounding all attempts at prediction. Gao Zecheng knew the style intimately—it was a technique of their own school—and he met each stroke without quarter, answering slash with cut, thrust with parry, showing not the slightest mercy. Both men were bleeding now, their wounds not yet mortal but their robes and faces spattered with scarlet. The faster they fought, the more reckless they grew, until it seemed as though each was staking his very life upon the outcome.

And through it all, Yin Susu fanned the flames without cease—a word of praise for Gao Zecheng here, a compliment for Jiang Litao there—goading them ever deeper into their frenzy. They fought like men possessed, each burning with the single desperate desire to strike down the other and prove himself the worthier swordsman, all to win the favour of the beauty who watched and smiled.

Footnotes

1. 殷素素 – Yīn Sùsù. Her name meaning “Plain and Unadorned.” See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 白龟寿 – Bái Guīshòu. His name meaning “White Tortoise Longevity.” Altar Master of the Black Tortoise Altar of the Heavenly Eagle Sect. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 张翠山 – Zhāng Cuìshān. His name meaning “Verdant Mountain.” Fifth disciple of Zhang Sanfeng and member of the Seven Heroes of Wudang. His epithet is the Silver Hook Iron Brush. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 昆仑派 – Kūnlún Pài. The Kunlun School, a major martial arts sect based in the Kunlun Mountains. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 青色 – qīngsè. Their dark blue robes suggest formal attire appropriate for representatives of a prestigious school. ↩

6. 说起曹操，曹操便到 – shuōqǐ Cáo Cāo, Cáo Cāo biàn dào. Literally speak of Cao Cao and Cao Cao arrives. A Chinese idiom equivalent to “speak of the devil.” Cao Cao was the warlord of the Three Kingdoms era, known for his cunning and ubiquity. ↩

7. 高则成 – Gāo Zéchéng. His name meaning “High and Accomplished.” A disciple of the Kunlun School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 蒋立涛 – Jiǎng Lìtāo. His name meaning “Standing Waves.” A disciple of the Kunlun School. ↩

9. 常金鹏 – Cháng Jīnpéng. His name meaning “Golden Roc.” Altar Master of the Vermilion Bird Altar of the Heavenly Eagle Sect. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 江湖 – jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. The world of martial arts. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 天鹰教 – Tiānyīng Jiào. The Heavenly Eagle Sect. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 王盘山 – Wángpán Shān. Wangpan Island, an island at the mouth of the Qiantang River where the Heavenly Eagle Sect hosts the gathering. ↩

13. 俞岱岩 – Yú Dàiyán. His name meaning “Lofty Cliff of Mount Dai.” Third disciple of Zhang Sanfeng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

14. 武林 – wǔlín. Literally martial forest. Another term for jianghu, referring to the world of martial arts and its practitioners. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 剑圣 – jiànshèng. Literally sword saint. An epithet given to an unnamed Kunlun School master of the previous generation. Zhang Sanfeng encountered this swordsman in his youth. ↩

16. 百丈飞瀑 – bǎizhàng fēipù. Literally hundred-fathom flying waterfall. A powerful Kunlun School sword technique in which the blade descends from high overhead like a great cascading waterfall, combining tremendous downward force with the ability to transform mid-stroke. ↩

17. 雨打飞花 – yǔ dǎ fēihuā. Literally rain beating scattered blossoms. A Kunlun School sword technique characterised by flowing diagonal strokes interspersed with sudden straight thrusts, making the swordsman’s movements as unpredictable as wind-blown petals in a rainstorm. ↩