Qiu Chuji pushed his arms out and opened up a way for Guo Jing to escape; he pulled Guo Jing out of the restaurant. The people rushed out to attack them, but Qiu and Guo, two people faced them while moving backward step by step. Once outside Guo Jing whistled to call his red horse and not too long afterwards two people riding on one horse sped out of the town and disappeared into the wilderness.
Guo Jing again told about how those town people without any reason pounced on him and beat him. Qiu Chuji smiled, “You are dressed as a Mongolian; they thought you are a Barbarian Mongolian.” Then he proceeded by telling Guo Jing how the Mongolians and the Jins had violent battles in the Shandong province. The local people had been under the Jin’s oppression for a long time, they raised arm to help the Mongolians. Who would have thought that the Mongolian’s officers and soldiers were as oppressive and tyrannical as the Jins were; they destroyed, they killed, they took captive and they plundered; they made the lives of the common people miserable beyond description. When a Mongolian army was passing through, the people did not dare to do anything, but if there was a lone Mongolian officer or soldier left behind, usually he would be killed by the people.
“Why did you let them beat you?” Qiu Chuji asked, “Just look at you, bruised and swollen all over.”
Guo Jing heaved a deep sigh and then told him how Genghis Khan had issued a secret order to him to attack the south, and how his mother had died because of it. He told Priest Qiu everything.
Qiu Chuji was shocked, “If Genghis Khan is going to attack our Great Song, then we must go south immediately to inform the government to guard against this invasion,” he said.
Guo Jing shook his head, “What good would that bring? The result would be corpses of officers and soldiers from both sides piling up as high as a mountain; innocent people’s families being broken and killed.”
“But if the Song perishes under the Mongolia, the common people will suffer even more,” Qiu Chuji said, “An endless hardship!”
“Qiu Daozhang,” Guo Jing said, “There are so many things I am not able to think through; I want to ask you to give me directions.”
Qiu Chuji pulled his hand, led him to a big locust tree and took him sitting underneath it. “Speak to me!” he said.
Guo Jing immediately poured out what had been troubling his heart these past few days; how he felt that his skill in martial art only brought harm to other people. Finally he sighed and said, “Therefore, disciple has decided not to fight with anybody for the rest of my life. I wish I could forget everything I know about martial arts, only an old habit will always come back. I was careless today, and made someone bleed from his head.”
Qiu Chuji shook his head, “Jing’er, your thinking is incorrect,” he said, “Dozens of years ago, the Wulin world secret manual, the Nine Yin Manual, appeared for the first time. I don’t know how many warriors of the Jianghu had died from fighting over this book. Afterwards at the Sword Meet of Huashan [Mount Hua] my master Chongyang Zhenren [Sage, lit. true/real man, a respectful term to address a Taoist priest] had defeated everybody and took possession of the manual. Initially he intended to destroy the book, but later on he said, ‘Water can carry the boat, but can also capsize it; be it fortune or calamity, in the end it depends on the person who uses it.’ In the end he decided to preserve the manual. Every talent in the world, whether it is ‘wen’ [literature] or ‘wu’ [martial art]; a strong army or a sophisticated device, not a single one of them does not benefit mankind; but the opposite is also true, every single one of them has the potential to bring calamity to the world. As long as you have a good heart, the stronger your martial art, the better it is for you. Why would you want to forget it?”
Guo Jing hesitated for a moment before saying, “What Daozhang said was not wrong, but among the current Jianghu heroes; the Eastern Heretic, the Western Poison, the Southern Emperor and the Northern Beggar have the strongest martial arts. Disciple has been thinking carefully; to reach the martial art level of these four experts one must undergoes difficulties, to the point of almost impossible, hardship and suffering. Yet even if one is able to endure all that, what good would that be for people other than oneself?”
Qiu Chuji was silent for a moment before answering, “Huang Yaoshi is an eccentric man; although outwardly he shows anger to the world and detests mundane affair, but in his heart there is an unspeakable bitterness. He acts as he pleases, he does not have any consideration toward other people. I won’t take him as an example. Ouyang Feng does all kinds of evil; we don’t need to talk about him. Emperor Duan is compassionate and benevolent; if he stayed on the throne he would be able to benefit the common people. It’s a pity that because of personal resentment over a tiny, tiny affair he withdrew from society and lives in seclusion; he can’t be regarded as great man with great courage. Only Hong Qigong, Hong Bangzhu [Clan Leader Hong] is left who is a great hero to uphold justice; always helping those in distress. He has my full admiration. The second Sword Meet of Mount Hua is right around the corner; I think there might be someone who can exceed Hong Bangzhu in term of martial art. But I believe the people will elect him as the Number One in the Wulin World.”
Hearing the four characters ‘Sword Meet of Mount Hua’, Guo Jing’s heart was stirred. “Is my benevolent master completely healed from his injury? Do you think the Senior is going to attend the meeting at Mount Hua?” he asked.
“After returning from the west, I have never seen Hong Bangzhu,” Qiu Chuji said, “But whether he will take part in the Sword Meet or not, I think he will go to Mount Hua. Actually, I am passing through this place on my way over there; why don’t you come with me to take a look?”
These past several days Guo Jing was very downhearted; he lost interest in, and loathed all kinds of, fighting. He shook his head and said, “Disciple is not coming, please forgive me.”
“Where are you going?” Qiu Chuji asked.
Guo Jing awkwardly said, “Disciple does not know; I’ll go wherever my feet lead me!”
Qiu Chuji could see that his face had lost its color, he looked so ghastly; like someone who was just recovered from a severe illness. Qiu Chuji was very concerned, but no matter how he persuaded, Guo Jing simply shook his head and did not say anything. Qiu Chuji thought, “He would normally listen to Hong Bangzhu; if he goes to Mount Hua, then master and disciple will see each other, his spirit might be aroused and be back to his old kind self. But how can I convince him to go?” All of a sudden a thought came into his mind, “Jing’er,” he said, “If you really want to forget the martial art you have already learned, I think I might have a way.”