In the other room, Guo Jing had been overjoyed when he heard Zhu Cong hailing Huang Yaoshi. But then, he’d listened as the seven fought, his six beneficient teachers panting for breath and crying out as they held on with all their strength. The situation was desperately critical. The qi in his dantian had yet to stabilise; but with the gratitude he owed to his teachers for raising him being no different to that he owed his parents, how could he just keep his hands in his sleeves? Immediately restricting his qi and concentrating his breath, he launched out a palm. There was a loud bang as his strike shattered the secret door.
Huang Rong was shocked. She’d seen that he hadn’t fully completed his progress – there was still a bit more effort left – and yet, at this point, he was using his strength to unleash a palm. Fearing he was endangering his life, she cried urgently: “Jing gege, don’t do it!”
As soon as Guo Jing had sent out the palm, he felt the qi in his dantian surge upwards, a heat firing his insides. He hurried to restrain and close in the qi, forcing his inner breath hard back into his dantian.
Seeing the cupboard door suddenly shatter and reveal Guo Jing and Huang Rong, Huang Yaoshi and the Six Freaks leapt back from each other, startled and delighted at the same time.
Suddenly seeing his beloved daughter, Huang Yaoshi was unsure if he was dreaming. He rubbed his eyes. “Rong’er, Rong’er,” he called out, “is it really you?”
Huang Rong, still holding one palm enjoined with Guo Jing’s left, gave a slight smile and nodded her head, but said nothing. At this, Huang Yaoshi’s joy exceeded all expectation; putting other thoughts behind him, he laid Mei Chaofeng’s body down on a bench, went over to the cupboard, and sat down cross-legged. One touch of his daughter’s wrist, and he felt her pulse and breathing firm and steady. Then, reaching through the cupboard doorway, he pressed his left palm against Guo Jing’s right.
The many currents of sizzling qi boiling and bubbling inside Guo Jing’s body were already unbearable in the extreme; by this point, there’d been several times when he’d wanted to leap up screaming and shouting to relieve the pressure. When Huang Yaoshi’s palm came to enjoin with his, a stream of inner power flowed through with tremendous force, and instantly he felt a gradual settlement. Using his right hand, Huang Yaoshi set about kneading and massaging all the critical acupoints on Guo Jing; so profound was his neigong that, in just the time it took to make a bowl of rice, he had saved Guo Jing’s life.
Guo Jing, now regulating his qi with miraculous ease and circulating his inner breath freely, leapt through the cupboard doorway, bowed towards Huang Yaoshi, and immediately went to kowtow to his six teachers.
On the one side, Guo Jing was telling his teachers about the ins and outs of the situation; on the other side, Huang Yaoshi was leading his daughter by the hand and listening to her giggly chatter, her narrative punctuated with laughter. At first, the Freaks followed what Guo Jing was saying. But he was a dull talker, struggling to convey what he meant in words. Huang Rong, however, not only had a clear, crisp voice, but also a splendid turn of phrase; and when she got to the thrilling bits, her depictions scintillated with a hundred extra tones and colours. One by one, the Six involuntarily went over to listen; Guo Jing, too, finally shut up, turning from a speaker to a listener. Huang Rong did almost an hour’s worth of talking. With her expressions taking full flight – now grave, now comic – everybody listened enraptured to her pearls of wit, as if savouring a charming vintage wine.
Huang Yaoshi, upon hearing his beloved daughter had somehow become the Chief of the Beggar Gang, was utterly bewildered. “What a bizarre move from Brother Qi!” he remarked. “And how heretical of him! Perhaps he’s thinking of stealing my nickname – no longer being the ‘Northern Beggar’, and instead being the ‘Northern Heretic’? The ‘Five Greats’ would then be the ‘Eastern Beggar’, ‘Western Venom’, ‘Southern Emperor’, ‘Northern Heretic’, and ‘Central Who-Knows-What?’”
Her tale having reached the fight between Huang Yaoshi and the Freaks, Huang Rong gave a laugh. “That’s all,” she said. “There’s no use me saying what happened next!”
Huang Yaoshi announced: “I’m going to go and kill those four bastards Ouyang Feng, Lingzhi, Qiu Qianren and Yang Kang. Come with me and watch the fun, kid.” He was talking about killing people, but because he was looking fondly upon his beloved daughter, his face was all smiles.
Taking a glance at the Freaks, he felt rather contrite. Yet although he knew himself to be clearly in the wrong, he was still unwilling to hang his head and admit a fault to anyone, only offering: “The movement of qi hasn’t turned out too badly. It didn’t make me harm someone good by accident.”
As for Huang Rong, she’d originally resented the Freaks for prohibiting Guo Jing from getting married with her. But now that Mu Nianci and Yang Kang had gotten engaged, this issue had already been resolved. “Daddy,” she giggled, “how about admitting to the teachers that you made a mistake?”
Huang Yaoshi gave a snort. “I’m going to go and find Western Venom,” he said, changing the subject. He added: “Jing’er, you come too.”
Fundamentally, he felt deeply displeased at this crude, block-headed Guo Jing. “I, Huang Yaoshi, am absolutely brilliant,” he had mused. “But with such a dumbass as a son-in-law, wouldn’t that make those in wulin laugh their lips off?” He had consented to the engagement with great difficulty. It then so happened that Zhou Botong, not telling apart the silly and the serious, had cracked a reckless joke claiming Guo Jing had borrowed Mei Chaofeng’s 9 Yin Scripture and made a copy. In the midst of his rage, he had believed this to be true, and was furious at Guo Jing’s dirty underhandedness. But after having sent off Hong Qigong, Ouyang Feng, Zhou Botong and the others, he’d immediately realised that the text of the second-volume scripture that Guo Jing had learnt was far clearer than that in the second volume held by Mei Chaofeng. Moreover, this was without considering ‘let alone nowadays’, and so on. Guo Jing just couldn’t have copied from Mei Chaofeng’s handwritten text, and anyway, Huang Yaoshi had known long ago that Zhou Botong was telling lies. Later, he’d mistakenly believed Lingzhi’s made-up news of Huang Rong’s death.
Now, wild with joy at finally seeing his beloved daughter again, the grievance he held against the Freaks had momentarily vanished. It was just that he was unwilling to admit a fault or to make an apology; but he hoped in future to be able to help them with some serious matter, as a way of making amends.
Looking back on Mei Chaofeng who, in sacrificing herself to save him from great ruin, had not forgotten her gratitude to her teacher – not unto death – he pondered: “Ruohua and her martial brother Xuanfeng were in love. If they’d come and informed me about it, and petitioned to marry, I wouldn’t necessarily have forbidden them. There was no need to be rash and take the big risk of running away from Peachblossom Island. But I’ve been moody throughout my life, never settling on joy or rage. The two of them must have considered it from every angle, and – in the end – didn’t dare to open their mouths. Now suppose Rong’er, because of this eccentric temper of mine, were to end up just like Ruohua…” The thought made him shudder. By calling out this word “Jing’er”, he was actually acknowledging Guo Jing as son-in-law.