Flying Fox of the Snowy Mountain Chapter 3 – Part 3

Steward Yu suddenly broke in, “The Storming King killed people like flies. Who saw it with their own eyes?” Liu Yuanhe said, “Everyone says so. Could it all be lies?” Steward Yu said, “You men of officialdom naturally say he killed indiscriminately. In truth, the Storming King only killed corrupt magistrates and tyrannical gentry. Those men could hardly be counted as people at all. The order 'Killing one man is like killing my father' was to forbid his followers from murdering a single innocent. Not a word of it is wrong.”

Liu Yuanhe was about to argue further, but seeing the man’s bearing so commanding, he fell silent. Xiong Yuanxian,¹ wishing to break the tension, said, “Miss Miao, what happened next? Please continue.”

Miao Ruolan said, “Grandpa Porter² said, ‘He said our Great King was at Shimen Gorge. What did he mean by that?’ Grandpa Physician said, ‘Could he mean the Great King was buried at Shimen Gorge?’ Grandpa Beggar shook his head. ‘That man was wicked to the last. Even at death’s door he still meant to deceive.’ It seemed that after the great hero died, the traitor had his body sent to Beijing to claim a reward. The Emperor hung the great hero’s severed head above the city gate as a public display. The three bodyguards risked extraordinary danger to steal the head back. It had long since been buried in a place so precipitous and remote that no human foot could reach it. When the sworn brother said he lay at Shimen Gorge, naturally the three did not believe it.

“After killing their sworn brother, the three went to assassinate the great traitor. But the traitor’s defences were thorough, and attempt after attempt failed. Meanwhile, the story of the three men killing their sworn brother for a righteous cause spread throughout the jianghu.³ Every hero of the wulin⁴ who heard it raised his thumb and said, ‘Well killed!’ When the news reached the sworn brother’s hometown, his son was grief-stricken. He at once set out for Kunming to avenge his father.”

Tao Baisui⁵ broke in, “The son was in the wrong there. They say a father’s vengeance is a debt that cannot be shared under the same sky. But his father had done a wicked thing. Anyone was entitled to cut him down. Some feuds are better left unavenged.”

Miao Ruolan said, “My father said the same at the time. But the son thought very differently. When he reached Kunming, he soon found the three in a ruined temple. They fought. The son had received his father’s true teachings, and indeed the three were no match for him. In less than half a shichen,⁶ he had struck all three down one by one.

“The son said, ‘Uncles, my father bore shame and disgrace and willingly took upon himself the evil name of a master-betrayer. How could you understand the deeper meaning? For the sake of the oath he shared with your honoured selves, I spare your lives today. Go home at once and set your affairs in order. On the fifteenth of the third month next year is the anniversary of my father’s death. I shall come calling at your doors.’ When he had said this, he took the great hero’s military dao and strode away.

“By then it was the depth of winter. The three set out at once for the north. They gathered the families of all three houses together and recounted in full detail the bloodshed on the boat that day. Everyone said, ‘He killed the great hero and protected the great traitor, and became a high official under the Manchu Emperor besides. What deeper meaning could there be? His son’s clever excuses carry nothing that anyone could believe.’ Friends of the jianghu received the news and came flocking to lend their aid in the cause of righteousness.

“On the evening of the fifteenth of the third month, the son indeed arrived alone.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Miao Ruolan, waiting for her to continue. But just then the little maid Qiner came over carrying a small white-copper brazier set in a brocade cover. She placed it in Miao Ruolan’s lap.

Miao Ruolan said softly, “Go light the incense.” Qiner assented. Before long she returned with a white jade censer and set it on the small table beside her. A thin trail of green smoke curled up from the phoenix’s mouth carved on the censer’s lid. A faint, delicate fragrance drifted through the air, like orchids yet not orchids, like musk yet not musk. It was deeply pleasant.

Miao Ruolan said, “When I am alone in my room, I burn plain jasmine. With so many people here, why have you lit this again?” Qiner laughed. “I really am forgetful.” She picked up the censer and went to change the incense stick. Miao Ruolan said, “The wind comes from the north. There are no windows on that side, but the wind at the peak is strong and some blows through. Do you see if the censer is placed correctly?” Qiner smiled, moved the small table to the northwest corner, poured the Young Mistress a bowl of tea, and then withdrew.

Everyone was thinking, “The Golden-Faced Buddha Miao Renfeng,⁷ a great daxia⁸ of his generation, and he has spoiled his daughter into this.” They watched her slowly lift the lid of her covered bowl, peek at the tea leaves and roses within, take a delicate sip, and set it down again. Everyone expected her to resume the story. Instead she said, “I have a slight headache. I must go in and rest a while. Please excuse me, uncles.” With that she rose and went within.

Everyone stared at one another, speechless. Cao Yunqi⁹ was the first to lose patience. He was about to flare up when Tian Qingwen¹⁰ shot him a look. The words died on Cao Yunqi’s lips. Before long Miao Ruolan returned. She had changed into a pale green lined coat and a goose-yellow pleated skirt. She had washed off the cosmetics from her climb, and looked all the more elegant and fresh, her beauty entirely unadorned. It turned out she had not truly been suffering a headache. She had gone to change her clothes and wash her face. Qiner followed behind, carrying a silver-fox cushion, which she placed on the chair. Miao Ruolan sat down slowly and then said at last:

“That evening, Grandpa Physician’s household held a great banquet. Over a hundred famous heroes of the jianghu were invited, all waiting for the sworn brother’s son to arrive. When the first watch¹¹ had sounded, there came a soft thud and a figure stood before the feast. Many fine fighters were in the hall, yet not one had seen clearly how he entered. He appeared to be some twenty years of age, dressed in rough hemp clothes, a white cap on his head, a mourning staff in his hand, and a single dao slanting across his back. He paid no heed to anyone but went straight to Grandpa Physician, Grandpa Beggar and Grandpa Porter and said, ‘Uncles, pray lend me a quiet place to talk.’

“Before the three uncles could answer, a senior hero of the Kunlun School¹² cried, ‘A real man speaks plainly. If you have something to say, say it. Why skulk and scheme? Your father betrayed his master for glory. I wager you are no better. You mean to play some trick. Big Brothers, do not fall for this young thief.’ There came six sharp slaps, three and then three again. Six open-hand strikes landed on the Kunlun elder’s face. He gave a cry, spat a mouthful of blood, and dozens of teeth scattered on the floor. The blow had been so swift that he had no chance to guard or dodge.

“Every hero in the hall rose to his feet. In their shock and amazement, the hundred-odd men in the great hall fell utterly silent, each thinking, How can anyone move so fast? That Kunlun elder, struck so grievously, was terrified into speechlessness. When the son had stepped forward to strike, the assembled heroes had not seen him move. When he returned to his place, he was back in a flash. In that instant of coming and going, it was as though he had never stirred at all. The three grandpas, who had eaten and slept beside his father for decades, recognised his family’s hereditary qinggong¹³ technique, the Flying Divine Stride. Only this son had surpassed his father, and seemed even swifter than the old man himself. The son said, ‘Uncles, if I wished you harm, why would I have let you go in the ruined temple at Kunming? I have a few words that must be said, and it would be inconvenient with others listening.’

“The three agreed this was fair. Grandpa Physician led him into a small room behind the main hall. The hundred-odd heroes in the great hall set down their cups and listened, straining to catch any sound from within.

“After about the time it takes to eat a meal, the four emerged together. Grandpa Physician bowed in all four directions to the assembled heroes and said, ‘Many thanks for coming. Your loyalty does honour to the jianghu.’ The heroes were about to return the courtesy when he drew his dao across his own throat. In an instant he had cut his own throat and died. The assembly cried out in alarm and surged forward to save him. But Grandpa Beggar and Grandpa Porter had already seized the dao. One after the other they cut their own throats. The change came so suddenly that even among the many masters present, not one was quick enough to stop them.

“The sworn brother’s son knelt and bowed before the three bodies. He picked up the short dao the three had used, leapt onto the roof, and was gone. The heroes shouted, ‘Don’t let the traitor escape!’ and swarmed onto the roof in pursuit. But the man had vanished without trace.

“The children of the three grandpas clutched their fathers’ bodies and wept aloud. The heroes questioned the families and servants of the three households. Not a single person knew what the four had said in that sealed room, nor what trick the son had used to drive the three to kill themselves in public. The heroes saw the three bodies lying on the ground, and each man burned with rage. They swore a vow to avenge the three.

“But the son vanished utterly from that day, and no one knew where he had gone. The children of the three grandpas were raised by the assembled heroes. The heroes pitied their fathers, who had died for loyalty and righteousness yet met such a cruel end. They took great care in raising and teaching them. The three families’ children had already learned their fathers’ hereditary martial arts and had a foundation. Under the guidance of fine teachers, they mastered and fused everything, each family in time forming a school of their own.” Here she gave a soft sigh. “The stronger their martial arts grew, the keener their thirst for vengeance. Whether learning martial arts brings good fortune or disaster to a man, I truly cannot say.”

Baoshu¹⁴ saw her gazing into the brazier as if in a trance. The others were burning to hear the rest, so he took up the tale: “Miss Miao tells the story most vividly. Though she does not name names, you all know them. The sworn brother in the tale was the Flying Fox, the first bodyguard of the Storming King, surnamed Hu. Grandpa Porter was surnamed Miao, Grandpa Beggar surnamed Fan, and Grandpa Physician surnamed Tian. The descendants of the three families each learned peerless arts and struck out on their own. The Miao family’s martial arts became the Miao Family Swordplay. The Fans became leaders within the Xinghan Beggars’ Guild.¹⁵ The Tians in time founded the Tianlong School.¹⁶”

Ruan Shizhong¹⁷ and Yin Ji,¹⁸ though elders of Tianlong, had only now learned the origins of their own school. They could not help but feel a secret shame.

Baoshu continued, “Some twenty years later, the descendants of the Miao, Fan and Tian families at last tracked down the son of the man surnamed Hu. He was gravely ill. The three families forced him to kill himself. From that day the four families’ descendants have wreaked vengeance upon one another, generation after generation, for over a hundred years. Not one family’s children and grandchildren have come to a good end. I myself have seen with my own eyes a battle between the later generations of the four families that shook the heart and terrified the soul.”

Miao Ruolan raised her head and looked at Baoshu. “Great Master,¹⁹ I know this story. Please do not go on.” Baoshu said, “These friends do not know it. Tell it to them.” Miao Ruolan shook her head. “That year, after my father told me the story of the four grandpas, he went on to tell another. He said that because of this matter, he was forced to kill one more person. He needed to sharpen his jian.²⁰ But this second story is too sorrowful. Whenever I think of it, my heart aches. I wish I had never heard it.” She paused. “It was ten years before I was born. I wonder how that poor child is doing. I do hope he is well.”

Everyone exchanged glances. Who was this “poor child” she spoke of, and how was he connected to what was happening now? They looked from Miao Ruolan to Baoshu and back, waiting for one of them to clear the mystery.

A servant who had been standing to one side, attending to tea, suddenly said, “Young Mistress, a kind heart receives its reward. That poor child must be living well.” His voice was hoarse. Everyone turned to look. His hair was white and disordered. He was past middle age. His right arm was missing. He held the tea tray with his left hand. A thick, coarse scar ran from his right brow, slanted across his nose, and continued to the left corner of his mouth. Everyone thought, This man has suffered a terrible wound, yet still clung to life. That is not easy.

Miao Ruolan sighed. “After my father told me the story, I often prayed in secret for Heaven²¹ to bless that child and let him grow to manhood. Only I wished he would never learn martial arts. I wished he would be like me, without a single skill.”

Everyone was taken aback. “She looks so refined and gentle. Naturally she has no martial arts. But she is the daughter of Miao daxia, the Golden-Faced Buddha, He Who Has Fought All Under Heaven and Found No Equal. Could her father truly have taught her not a single technique?”

Miao Ruolan saw the looks on their faces and knew what they were thinking. She said, “My father said that for over a hundred years, the descendants of the Hu, Miao, Fan and Tian families have repaid grievance with grievance. Not one generation has come to a good end. No matter how great a man’s martial arts, he spends his life either killing for vengeance or guarding against vengeance. In all the year, he rarely has a few months of peaceful meals. Even if he lives to seventy or eighty, in the end his enemies still kill him. Martial arts cannot protect a man. They bring disaster instead. And so my father laid down a family rule: from him onward, no Miao descendant shall learn martial arts. Nor will he ever take a single disciple. My father said: even if the enemy kills him someday, if the Miao family cannot fight, naturally they cannot avenge him. Then perhaps the blood-debt of a hundred years, growing heavier with each passing decade, this tangle of injustice and sorrow, can be wiped clean in one stroke.”

Baoshu pressed his palms together. “Well done, well done. That Miao daxia could achieve so great an awakening, and willingly let the peerless Miao Family Swordplay die with him, is a great loss to the wulin. Yet it is also a great act of mercy.”

Miao Ruolan noticed the scarred servant’s eyes gleaming strangely. She felt a faint surprise and said to Baoshu, “I shall go in and rest. Great Master, please excuse me with our uncles.” She folded her hands in a greeting and withdrew into the inner hall.

Baoshu said, “Miss Miao is kind-hearted. She could not bear to hear more of this. Since she wishes to step aside, let this old monk tell you the rest.”

From early morning until now was only a few shichen. The sun had not yet passed midday. Yet each man had already experienced many strange events, and their hearts were heavy with questions. Their own lives hung in the balance, and they burned to know the truth.

They heard Baoshu say, “Since the four bodyguards of the Storming King turned on one another, the descendants of the four families have slaughtered each other without end for over a hundred years. But the man surnamed Hu had betrayed his master for glory and was shunned by all who walk the same path in the wulin. So in every great conflict, the Hu descendants were outnumbered and nine times out of ten came off the worse. Yet the Hu family’s hereditary martial arts were fearsome beyond compare. Every thirty or forty years, one or two outstanding Hu heirs would emerge to avenge the previous generation. Whether they won or lost, they always left a storm of blood behind them.

“Though the Miao, Fan and Tian families had the advantage of numbers and allies, the Hu family was always striking from the shadows, attacking where no guard was set. In the early years of Yongzheng, the three families quarrelled among themselves over who should hold the Storming King’s military dao. As it happened, the Hu family produced a pair of brothers whose martial arts were extraordinary. Between them they wounded over a dozen men of the three families. The three families grew desperate. The Tians took the lead, inviting skilled fighters from the jianghu, and together they killed the two Hu brothers. That year the heroes of the north and south gathered at Luoyang and swore an oath. From that day, the Storming King’s military dao would be held by the Tian Family of the Tianlong School. If any Hu descendant came looking for trouble, the Tian Family would raise the military dao to summon the heroes of the jianghu, and together they would deal with him. Any hero under heaven who saw the military dao, no matter how pressing his business, must set it aside and answer the call.

“Time passed, and the matter was gradually forgotten. But the zhangmen of Tianlong always prized the treasured dao above all else. I have heard that Tianlong later split into the Southern Branch and the Northern Branch, and the two branches took turns guarding the dao, rotating every ten years. Ruan shixiong, Yin shixiong, am I wrong?”

Ruan Shizhong and Yin Ji both said, “The Great Master’s words are correct.”

Baoshu smiled. “Many years have passed. The men of Tianlong all know this dao is the treasure of their school. But how few have asked where it truly came from. Time blurs such things, and that is no wonder. Only there is one matter I do not understand, and I must ask Brother Cao.” Cao Yunqi said loudly, “What is it?” Baoshu said, “This old monk has heard that when the old zhangmen of Tianlong passed office to the new, the old zhangmen was bound to reveal the dao’s true history to his successor. How is it that you, Brother Cao, having become zhangmen yourself, do not know? Has Zhangmen Tian Guinong²² forgotten this rule of the school?”

Cao Yunqi flushed crimson and opened his mouth to speak. But Tian Qingwen cut in, “Our household suffered a misfortune. My late father passed away suddenly and had no time to tell Cao shixiong in full.” Baoshu said, “So that is it. Alas, this is the second time I have set eyes on the dao. The first time I saw it was, let me count, twenty-seven years ago.” Tian Qingwen thought to herself, “Miss Miao is about seventeen or eighteen. She said this was ten years before she was born, which is indeed twenty-seven years ago. Then this monk’s first sighting of the dao must be connected to what Miss Miao described.”

Footnotes

1. 熊元献 – Xióng Yuánxiàn. Master of the Pingtong Armed Escort. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 公公 – gōnggong. A child’s word for any old man; Miao Ruolan keeps the words her father used when she was small. ↩

3. 江湖 – jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. The itinerant world beyond settled society and official reach, holding not only martial artists but the trades that travel with them, including pedlars, physicians, fortune-tellers, entertainers, boatmen, beggars, outlaws and the like. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 武林 – wǔlín. The martial forest. The community of martial artists and their world, distinct from the broader jianghu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 陶百岁 – Táo Bǎisuì. One of the stockade chiefs of Yinma Creek and father of Tao Zian, who dug up the iron box. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 时辰 – shíchén. A traditional Chinese unit of time, equal to two hours. The day was divided into twelve shichen. ↩

7. 苗人凤 – Miáo Rénfèng. The Golden-Faced Buddha. A formidable martial artist and one of the four bodyguard descendants. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 大侠 – dàxiá. A title of respect for a renowned martial artist of great reputation. The word is a suffix placed after the name. ↩

9. 曹云奇 – Cáo Yúnqí. A member of the Northern Branch of the Tianlong School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 田青文 – Tián Qīngwén. A member of the Northern Branch of the Tianlong School, daughter of Tian Guinong. ↩

11. 更 – gēng. A traditional Chinese night-watch. The night from 7 pm to 5 am was divided into five watches, each roughly two hours. The first watch runs from 7 pm to 9 pm. ↩

12. 昆仑派 – Kūnlún Pài. The Kunlun School. A traditional martial arts school. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

13. 轻功 – qīnggōng. Lightness skill. A martial art of agility, leaping, and moving with extraordinary speed and lightness. ↩

14. 宝树 – Bǎoshù. A mysterious monk with complex connections to the story. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 兴汉丐帮 – Xīnghàn Gàibāng. The Xinghan Beggars’ Guild. A branch of the Beggars’ Guild, led by descendants of the Fan family. ↩

16. 天龙门 – Tiānlóng Mén. The Tianlong School, divided into Northern and Southern branches, founded by descendants of the bodyguard Tian. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

17. 阮士中 – Ruǎn Shìzhōng. A member of the Northern Branch of the Tianlong School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

18. 殷吉 – Yīn Jí. A member of the Southern Branch of the Tianlong School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

19. 大师 – dàshī. Great Master. A respectful form of address for a monk. ↩

20. 剑 – jiàn. A straight, double-edged Chinese sword. ↩

21. 老天爷 – Lǎotiānyé. Heaven. Here used in the sense of divine providence or cosmic fate. ↩

22. 田归农 – Tián Guīnóng. Father of Tian Qingwen and late zhangmen of the Tianlong School’s Northern branch. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩