Gan Nineteenth Sister Chapter 3 – Part 3

Xie Shan¹ the Hunyuan Palm² bent over the body and pressed on the wrist. He nodded with a look of utter desolation and said, “The Old Patriarch is dead!”

From among the younger disciples came the sound of stifled weeping. Their grief had already been driven to its uttermost pitch by the death of the zhangmen, Li Tiexin³ the Peerless Sword.⁴ With the old patriarch’s sudden passing heaped upon it, the burden was more than flesh could bear.

In an instant, the elixir chamber⁵ was engulfed in a tide of lamentation!

The pall of sorrow hung over them for a very long time before it slowly subsided.

The bodies of the former and present zhangmen were laid side by side. Xie Shan the Hunyuan Palm assumed temporary authority and gave orders for funeral rites to be performed for every member of the school who had fallen.

With the enemy at their gates, all was done in haste. All was done without ceremony.

Even so, the preparations consumed two full days and nights. Crushed beneath the twin weights of grief and dread, every disciple of the Yueyang School⁶—old and young alike—looked as though they had emerged from the ravages of a terrible illness. It seemed that none of them had noticed the third day stealing silently upon them.

In the wake of overwhelming anguish, a person often goes numb, the mind reduced to a blank expanse. Yet this is only a brief reprieve. Once the sharpest edge of pain has dulled, the cold demands of reality come crowding in unbidden, and only then does one begin to reckon with matters of immediate survival.

Under the direction of the three Hall Elders, the Yueyang School convened an emergency council. Besides the three elders themselves, the assembly comprised only eight disciples, including Yin Jianping⁷ among them. These few, it was plain to see, were all that remained of the Yueyang School.

In the great hall that held the gilded lacquered statues of the school’s successive patriarchs, eleven souls—three elders and eight juniors—sat in a ring.

Though they bore different faces, the expression they wore was the same. With catastrophe bearing down upon them, few could maintain any semblance of composure. Yin Jianping, by heavens’ grace, had managed to preserve a measure of his customary steadiness. Yet his standing within the school had plummeted following the deaths of both the zhangmen and the old patriarch, sinking back to what it had always been: a mere nominal disciple.

A nominal disciple was one whose name was recorded but whose status remained undetermined. Thus, it was a very lowly rank, lower even than a full second-generation disciple. In such a position, his predicament was awkward in the extreme. He scarcely had the right to speak at all.

Neither the three elders nor the seven other disciples had paid him much attention, and so he sat apart, conspicuously ignored. Yet within his breast burned a fire far fiercer than any of his peers’. He dared not believe the words the old patriarch had spoken to him in private, or at least he did not fully believe them. In particular, the grim prophecy concerning the lives of those ten companions.

At this thought, Yin Jianping felt as though he had been plunged into a bath of ice. Instinctively, he became profoundly vigilant and fearful of the enemy they would face, and his heart swelled with boundless concern for the fate of his ten brethrens.

Duan Nanxi⁸ of the Splendour Hall⁹ had not followed the old patriarch’s dying command to hand the Iron Casket Codex¹⁰ to Yin Jianping. Yin Jianping maintained his composure, content to observe how matters would unfold.

The Iron Casket Codex, as its name suggests, was a collection of secret manuals housed within an iron chest. It was a black iron box barely a foot square, fitted with four concealed locks at its corner seams. That box had been retrieved and was strapped to Duan Nanxi’s back. He and the other two Hall Elders appeared to have packed in haste, each carrying a simple travelling bundle, as though intent upon flight.

Xie Shan the Hunyuan Palm was clad in close-fitting martial attire beneath a great purple fox-fur cloak. His face was the colour of cast iron, and his heart brimmed with grief and bitter rage.

“Everyone!” His voice was hoarse as he spoke, “In a single day, our school has been struck several times by a terrible foe. The enemy’s power, I trust, is clear to all. I need not belabour the point. The three-day grace they granted us has now expired. What they intend to do next, we cannot say, but they will not leave the matter at that, this I can state with certainty.”

He paused briefly, then gave a cold laugh. “… On this matter, it is my judgement that rather than sit and await death, we might yet fight for our lives. Therefore…”

His gaze swept across every disciple’s face. “I have conferred with Hall Masters Duan and Kong, and we have decided we shall divide our present number into three parties and withdraw in stages before nightfall.”

Kong Song¹¹ the Cloud-Grasping Hand,¹² Master of the Cloud Hall, continued, “Though the foundation of our school lies here at Dongting,¹³ the Double Crane Hall¹⁴ shares deep ties with us, and Master Mi is a sworn brother of our old patriarch. Thus, we may seek refuge with them for the time being. So long as the green hills remain, there will never be want of firewood.¹⁵ As long as we live, the day will come when we have our vengeance.”

These words found ready agreement among the disciples, who turned to one another with murmurs of relieved assent.

Xie Shan said, “Over the past two days, we have been consumed by funeral preparations for our two zhangmen and the fallen. None of us have spared a thought for the enemy’s movements. Whether they have come or won’t even be coming, we do not know.”

He paused, and his gaze came to rest upon Yin Jianping, seated at the far end. “Jianping, have you anything to say?”

Yin Jianping rose to his feet. “Hall Master, I believe the enemy has already arrived.”

“What?” Xie Shan asked with a cold expression, “What makes you say that?”

Upon hearing Yin Jianping’s words, every one was caught by surprise. Every face went pale.

Yin Jianping said, “In truth, the enemy never left at all!”

Xie Shan said, “How would you know that?”

Yin Jianping’s expression was grave as he spoke, “On the day the Old Patriarch passed, I made a discreet survey of our surroundings and found the area beyond all four gates unnaturally still. Not only were there no travellers on the roads, even the woodcutters and hunters who are usually about were nowhere to be seen.”

Xie Shan gave a cold laugh. “And from that alone, you presume that the enemy has not withdrawn?”

“I would not presume to be so bold,” said Yin Jianping.

Xie Shan said, “Then on what grounds do you claim they remain?”

“On that same occasion, this disciple ventured several hundred paces beyond the gate and discovered two white-clad figures playing weiqi¹⁶ in the thatched pavilion that stands before the grove along the post road. Not daring to alert them, I withdrew at once.”

The three elders stiffened.

Kong Song the Cloud-Grasping Hand, who seldom spoke, nodded thoughtfully. “Playing weiqi in the snow is certainly unusual. But that alone does not prove them to be the enemy’s sentinels.”

Yin Jianping wrapped his left hand over his right fist[^baoquan], and said, “Hall Master, if you will permit me, there is more.”

Kong Song nodded. “Continue!”

“Not wishing to alert the snake by beating the grass, I withdrew without leaving a trace. The following day, I went out again and found the same two white-clad figures still seated in the pavilion, still at their game. I returned at once and turned my attention to the shores of Dongting Lake[^dongtinghu] instead. There, beside Bian Island,¹⁷ I observed a flat-topped painted barge¹⁸ moored upon the water, a vessel quite unlike any of the boats that ordinarily ply the lake. And strangest of all, aboard that barge sat two more white-clad figures, cross-legged, likewise playing weiqi.”

Xie Shan the Hunyuan Palm furrowed his brow as he spoke coldly, “Then both the land and water routes are under watch?”

“I believe so,” said Yin Jianping.

Xie Shan let out a heavy sigh, visibly deflated. “Then what are we to do?”

A shadow fell across every face.

Kong Song the Cloud-Grasping Hand, the more measured in action, sighed softly. “If that is the case, we must rethink our plans with care.”

“There is nothing to rethink,” said Xie Shan the Hunyuan Palm. “The deadline has passed. Would you have us sit here and wait for them to charge at our door?”

Yin Jianping was about to speak, but Xie Shan cut him short with a wave of his hand. “Say no more. The situation is plain enough. There are only two paths before us: sit around and wait for death, or carve a path of our own. I see no room for deliberation.”

The younger disciples, hot-blooded to a man, voiced their agreement with a chorus of assent. Only Yin Jianping held his tongue. It was not that he disagreed. In truth, he judged both roads equally perilous, and thought it wiser to remain still than to act.¹⁹ But his standing was too low and his voice too slight to carry weight, and so the words died on his lips before they could be spoken.

Xie Shan looked at Kong Song. “What does Kong shixiong think?”

Kong Song the Cloud-Grasping Hand heaved a long sigh. “What shidi says is not without reason. It seems we have no other choice. I only think… this course is exceedingly reckless… Besides, with so many of us moving at once, we shall be all too conspicuous… I think it best to go in separate parties.”

Xie Shan the Hunyuan Palm nodded. “That is my intent.”

He turned to Duan Nanxi the Eight Drunken Immortals.²⁰ “What does Duan shixiong say?”

Duan Nanxi nodded. “I propose we send three men out first to test the enemy’s strength. If the first party sends no word within the time it takes to brew half a cup of tea, the second and third parties will follow in turn.”

Xie Shan the Hunyuan Palm nodded emphatically. “Good. I shall lead the first party myself.”

His eyes swept the line of disciples. “Two of you, with me.”

The two foremost disciples rose at once: one named Fang Gang,²¹ the other Liu Yong.²² They were reckoned the ablest among the younger generation.

“The two of you will disguise yourselves at once,” said Xie Shan. “Each take a load of firewood with your weapons hidden inside, and follow me out.”

Fang Gang and Liu Yong assented and withdrew to prepare.

Xie Shan addressed the rest. “Once we are through, we shall meet at the Double Crane Hall. Should things go ill, I will fire a Linked Branch Arrow²³ toward the four gates. If you find my signal, you must devise another plan.”

Saying that, he rose and strode out.

Footnotes

1. 谢山 – Xiè Shān. His name meaning “Mountain of Gratitude”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 混元掌 – Húnyuán Zhǎng. Literally primordial palm. Hunyuan is the chaotic origin energy representing the undifferentiated unity of pre-creation. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 李铁心 – Lǐ Tiěxīn. His name meaning “Iron Heart”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 无双剑 – Wúshuāng Jiàn. Literally peerless sword. Li Tiexin’s weapon, the Jade Dragon Sword, was poisoned and turned black. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 丹房 – dānfáng. Literally elixir room. The inner sanctum or private chambers of a martial arts compound, often used for cultivation, meditation, or storing important items. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 岳阳门 – Yuèyáng Mén. Literally sunny peak gate. Yueyang carries a deep sense of scholarly-official duty and concern for the nation as a result of Northern Song statesman Fan Zhongyan’s essay Record of Yueyang Tower. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 尹剑平 – Yǐn Jiànpíng. His name meaning “Sword’s Balance” or “Balancing the Sword”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 段南溪 – Duàn Nánxī. His name meaning “Southern Creek”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 采堂 – Cǎi Táng. The Splendour Hall. One of the four senior divisions of Yueyang School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 铁匣秘笈 – tiěxiá mìjí. Literally iron casket secret compendium. The Yueyang School’s most sacred heirloom, containing the school’s founding martial arts secrets. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 孔松 – Kǒng Sōng. His name meaning “Pine”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 摩云手 – Móyún Shǒu. ↩

13. 洞庭 – Dòngtíng. Dongting Lake. The second largest freshwater lake in China that is a flood basin of the Yangtze River. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

14. 双鹤堂 – Shuānghè Táng. Literally double crane hall. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 留得青山在，不怕没柴烧 – liú dé qīngshān zài, bùpà méi chái shāo. A classical proverb meaning that so long as one survives, there is always hope of recovery and renewal. ↩

16. 围棋 – wéiqí. An ancient Chinese strategy board game played with black and white stones on a gridded board. Known in the West as “go.” See Wuxia Wiki. See Wikipedia. ↩

17. 扁山 – Biǎn Shān. A small island in Dongting Lake near the Yueyang School compound. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

18. 画舫 – huàfǎng. An ornate pleasure barge, typically flat-topped and richly decorated, used for leisurely excursions on rivers and lakes. The presence of such a vessel on Dongting in winter was conspicuously out of place. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

19. 一动不如一静 – yīdòng bùrú yījìng. A classical maxim meaning that a single rash action is worse than patient stillness—that in uncertain circumstances, restraint often serves better than haste. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

20. 醉八仙 – Zuì Bā Xiān. Literally eight drunken immortals. Referencing the Eight Immortals of Daoist legend. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

21. 方刚 – Fāng Gāng. His name meaning “Upright and Resolute”. ↩

22. 刘咏 – Liú Yǒng. His name meaning “Chanting” or “Reciting”. ↩

23. 连枝箭 – liánzhī jiàn. Literally linked branch arrow. A specialised projectile unique to the Yueyang School, designed to serve as a long-range distress signal visible from all four cardinal approaches to the compound. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩