Flying Fox of the Snowy Mountain Chapter 6 – Part 2

Tao Zian suddenly pointed at the wall-top and said, “We're holding the gate shut. Could he not climb over from above?” Ruan Shizhong replied, “Quite right. House Brother Tao, hurry up and guard the heights.” Tao Zian sneered, “Ruan shishu's martial arts are superior. You should go up yourself.” The words had barely left his mouth when a series of tremendous cracks rang out. The supporting beam and door-bolt snapped of a sudden, and with a thunderous crash the two great doors were thrust open from outside. A chorus of cries went up as the crowd fled towards the inner courtyard, and in the twinkling of an eye the great hall stood empty.

When the heroes first heard Ping Asi recount the tale of Hu Yidao, they had been eager enough to meet the orphan he left behind. But now that the Flying Fox of the Snowy Mountain had truly arrived upon the peak, and they had witnessed his extraordinary skill, a cold dread seized them. They saw others fleeing, and fear fed upon fear, until not a shred of their former heroic bearing remained.

Steward Yu sought Baoshu to stand and face the newcomer, but glancing about, the monk had vanished. None could say where he had hidden. He thought, The master has entrusted the running of the manor to me. Even if it costs my life, I must preserve the master’s honour. In a low voice he said to Miao Ruolan, “Miss Miao, go at once to the mistress’s quarters. Hide with her in the secret cellar. Let no one see you. There is not a man here who means well. I shall go out and face him.”

Miao Ruolan glanced towards Zheng Sanniang and Tian Qingwen. “Shall I take these two sisters into the cellar with me?”

Steward Yu hurriedly shook his head. “No. Those two women are no better than the rest. You and the mistress are ladies of noble birth. Pay no heed to anyone else.”

Miao Ruolan said, “If that man surnamed Hu means to kill and burn, can you stop him?”

Steward Yu pressed his hand upon the hilt of his single dao. His expression was bleak. “Today is the day Yu repays his master with his life. If only Madam and Miss remain safe, I shall have done my duty.”

Miao Ruolan considered this a moment, then said, “I shall come out with you to meet him.”

Steward Yu was greatly alarmed. “Miss Miao, did you not hear the monk say that your father, Miao daxia, owes him a blood debt for his father’s death? If you do not hide and fall into this man’s hands, then… then…”

Miao Ruolan said, “Ever since I heard Papa speak of Uncle Hu’s story, I have hoped that child still lived, and that someday I might meet him. Today is perilous, yes. But if I let this chance pass and never see him, I shall regret it all my days.”

Though her words were soft and gentle, their meaning was firm, and Steward Yu could not bring himself to gainsay her. He thought, This young miss cannot so much as truss a chicken, yet her courage is beyond question. She is truly the daughter of Miao daxia, the Golden-Faced Buddha. Terror of Guandong, He Whose Might Shakes the South: such resounding names! Set beside Miss Miao, any man who bears them and does not die of shame must be thick-skinned indeed.

He had been afraid, but seeing Miao Ruolan’s composed expression, his own fear eased somewhat. He tightened his belt, set two blue-and-white porcelain lidded bowls upon a tea-tray, poured the tea, and carried it out. Miao Ruolan followed behind.

Rounding the hall’s screen-wall, Steward Yu saw the man in white facing outward, his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the sky. He called out in a loud voice, “This humble servant has failed to welcome Elder Master Hu from afar. Please forgive the discourtesy.” With that he offered the tea.

The man in white, hearing Steward Yu speak, turned his head. He saw Miao Ruolan, a young girl of delicate and refined beauty, her manner shyly graceful, her bright eyes alive with intelligence, and could not help but pause in surprise.

Miao Ruolan, for her part, saw that the man’s cheeks were covered in a bristle of coarse whiskers, each stiff as wire, his thick hair unbound and unkempt, standing and falling every which way like tangled grass. She too was startled. Since childhood she had felt pity and compassion for Hu Yidao’s orphan son, imagining him a poor child abused and bullied by the world. Now, meeting him, she found so rough and fearsome a man that she felt three parts astonishment, three parts bewilderment, and three parts disappointment. Yet straightaway she thought, Uncle Hu Yidao’s countenance was stern and commanding, and naturally his son would look the same. What is there to wonder at? I had simply pictured him wrongly. She stepped forward with a graceful curtsey and said softly, “I bid you ten thousand blessings, sir.”

Hu Fei, the Flying Fox of the Snowy Mountain, had come to this peak prepared for a fierce struggle against the assembled masters. He had not expected the manor to send out so fair a maiden, and was taken aback. He thought, Let us see what trick they are playing. He returned her courtesy and said, “I am Hu Fei. May I venture to ask your honoured surname, miss?”

Steward Yu cast Miao Ruolan a look, bidding her invent a false name and on no account reveal that she was Miao Renfeng’s daughter. But Miao Ruolan seemed not to understand, and said, “House Brother Hu, our families have been friends for generations. It is a pity we have never met. My surname is Miao.”

Hu Fei’s heart sank further, though his face betrayed nothing. “And how are you related to the Golden-Faced Buddha, Miao daxia, miss?” Steward Yu was in great alarm and tugged secretly at her sleeve. She paid no heed. “The Golden-Faced Buddha is my father.”

Hu Fei started. He thought, So it is you. He said, “Why does your honoured father not come out to meet me?”

Steward Yu kept his hand upon his dao-hilt, fearing Hu Fei might strike. He glanced sideways at Miao Ruolan, but she was as calm as ever. He sighed within. This young miss is innocent of the world. The man before her is her father’s deadly enemy, and she speaks the truth without knowing the weight of it.

He heard her say, “My father has not yet come up the peak. If he knew House Brother Hu was the son of an old friend, he would set aside even the gravest business and come at once to meet you.”

Hu Fei grew more puzzled. “You know of my parentage, yet your father does not. Might I ask why?”

Miao Ruolan said, “I only just learned it from your friend, Mister Ping.”

Hu Fei said, “Ah, so Fourth Uncle Ping has come here. Where is he?”

Steward Yu started and looked about the hall. Ping Asi was nowhere to be seen, but a pool of blood upon the floor was still not dry. He thought, Ever since that dove flew in with the silk thread, everyone has been thinking of getting off the peak alive. We clean forgot the man. He is Hu Fei’s saviour. If harm has befallen him, the trouble deepens.

Hu Fei saw him staring at the pool of blood, his expression strange, and asked loudly, “Is that Fourth Uncle Ping’s blood?”

Steward Yu dared not lie. “It is.”

Hu Fei’s parents had died when he was young. Ping Asi had raised him, and they were as father and son. At these words he was alarmed indeed. He leapt forward, seized Steward Yu’s right arm, and demanded sharply, “Where is he? How… how has he fared?”

Steward Yu felt his arm ache as though a steel band were tightening about it, tighter and tighter. He could only grit his teeth and endure, great beads of sweat rising upon his brow like soybeans, yet he could not speak a word.

Miao Ruolan said slowly, “House Brother Hu, there is no need for alarm. Fourth Master Ping is safe over there.” She pointed towards the west wing. Hu Fei released Steward Yu’s arm and at once rose into the air. With a crash he kicked open the west-wing door, and there upon a couch lay Ping Asi, breathing in short gasps. Hu Fei was overjoyed. “Fourth Uncle! Are you hurt?”

Ping Asi had long since heard his voice from within the wing. “I am well enough. Do not worry.”

Hu Fei hurried forward. The man’s face was the colour of gold-leaf paper, his breath barely there. The joy of the moment before turned at once to fear. “How were you wounded? Is it serious?”

Ping Asi said, “The tale is a long one. If Miss Miao had not saved me, you and I would never meet again in this life.” It was this way: when the white dove flew in with the silk thread, the whole crowd had surged out of the hall in a rush. Miao Ruolan had taken the chance, with Qiner, to help Ping Asi into the west wing. Later Baoshu had wished to finish him off, but could not find him. The hour was urgent, and there was no time to search carefully, and so Ping Asi had escaped harm.

Hu Fei nodded. From his pouch he took a cinnabar pill and placed it in Ping Asi’s mouth. “Fourth Uncle, take this wound-medicine first.”

He watched Ping Asi chew the pill and swallow it, and was somewhat reassured. He returned to the hall and bowed deeply to Miao Ruolan. “I am indebted to you, miss, for saving my Fourth Uncle Ping.”

Miao Ruolan returned the courtesy at once. “Fourth Master Ping is old-fashioned and warm-hearted, and I hold him in the highest regard. A trifling service is not worth mentioning.”

Hu Fei said, “A matter of life and death is no trifling service. I am grateful beyond words.”

Miao Ruolan saw that his manner was rough, yet his speech was refined enough, and said, “House Brother Hu has travelled far, and the manor has nothing worthy to offer you. Qiner, bring wine and food at once.”

Hu Fei said, “The master of this place bade me meet him here today at the hour of Wu.¹ Why does he not come out even now?”

Miao Ruolan said, “The master had urgent business and went down the mountain. He must have been delayed on the way and not yet returned, thus missing your appointment. I offer my apologies in his stead.”

Hu Fei found her replies well-put, and wondered the more: The Miao, Fan, and Tian families are all said to be rich in talent. Why are the men hiding at the back, sending out a girl who seems as though a strong wind might topple her? And this girl shows not the slightest fear of me. Could she in fact be a master in disguise?

Qiner came bearing a wooden tray. Upon it sat a large pot of wine and a single cup. She held the tray in her left hand and poured wine into the cup with her right, smiling as she said, “Young Master Hu, all the chickens, ducks, meat, and vegetables on the peak, your Fourth Master Ping has ruined every last bit of them. I am sorry, but all we can offer you is a cup of plain wine.”

Hu Fei saw that the wooden tray stood between himself and Miao Ruolan. He reached out his left hand and gave the edge of the tray the slightest push. It shot straight towards Miao Ruolan’s shoulder. Though the push seemed light, it in fact struck with borrowed force. Anyone struck who did not defend themselves would suffer as though wounded by a weapon. Miao Ruolan knew no martial arts. She only shrank back, a natural reflex, and made no move to deflect the blow. In that instant she was on the very brink of grave injury.

Steward Yu was terrified. He knew his own skill fell far short of Hu Fei’s, and even had he thrown himself forward regardless of his life, it would have availed nothing. He could only cry, “Ah!” But even as he did, Hu Fei’s left hand had already darted out with impossible speed, two fingers catching the edge of the tray. The timing was perfect. The tray’s rim brushed Miao Ruolan’s outer robe and at once drew back. She never knew that in that single moment she had passed from life to death and from death to life again.

Hu Fei said, “Your father has fought all under heaven and found no equal, yet why has he not taught you martial arts? I have always heard that within the Miao Family Sword School, sons and daughters are taught alike.”

Miao Ruolan said, “My father has vowed to resolve the hundred-year feud that has entangled our families. And so the Miao Family Swordplay ends with him. He will teach no more of it to the young.”

Hu Fei was startled. His hand, holding the wine-cup, halted in mid-air. After a moment he raised it to his lips and drained it in one draught. “Miao Renfeng! Miao daxia! Good! He is truly worthy of the title daxia!”

Miao Ruolan said, “I have heard Papa speak of your father’s affair that day. Your mother invited my father to drink, and those present warned him to guard against poison in the wine. My father said, ‘Hu Yidao is a hero among men, open and honourable. How could he stoop to such a vile thing?’ Today I offer you wine, House Brother Hu, and you drink it without hesitation. Are you not afraid that someone here means you harm?”

Footnotes

1. 午时 – wǔshí. The hour of Wu, roughly 11 am to 1 pm. The day was divided into twelve shichen, each named for one of the Earthly Branches. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩