The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 11 – Part 3

Yang Tiexin¹ saw the pursuers closing in and resolved that it was better to die fighting than be captured and shamed. He prised his wife’s hands apart, placed her in Mu Nianci’s² arms, and turned and ran at the pursuers. One punch felled a foot soldier, and he snatched the man’s flower-spear.³ The moment the weapon was in his hand, his menace grew tenfold. The commander of the bodyguard, Tang Zude,⁴ took a spear-thrust to the leg and toppled from his saddle. The bodyguards shouted in unison and scattered in every direction. Yang Tiexin saw that none of the pursuers were first-rate fighters, and his heart steadied somewhat. Only, he had not seized a horse, and that was a pity.

The three turned and fled again. It was full daylight by now, and Bao Xiruo⁵ saw that her husband was spattered with blood. She cried in alarm, “Are you hurt?” At her question Yang Tiexin suddenly felt a savage pain in the backs of his hands. He had put too much force into the fight just now, and the ten finger-holes Wanyan Kang⁶ had clawed in them had burst open and would not stop bleeding. Running for his life, he had felt no pain, but now his arms were weak and aching and he could not lift them at all. Bao Xiruo was about to bandage them when a great shout rose behind them, and countless soldiers came after them out of a cloud of dust.

Yang Tiexin gave a bitter smile. “There’s no time for bandages.” He turned to Mu Nianci. “Child, run for your life, on your own! Your mother and I will stay right here and…”

Mu Nianci was remarkably composed. She did not weep. She lifted her chin and said firmly, “The three of us die together.”

Bao Xiruo was puzzled. “She… how can she be our child?”

Yang Tiexin was about to answer when he heard the pursuers drawing nearer. He looked up sharply and saw two Daoists walking towards them. One had a white beard and white brows and a kindly face. The other had a long beard black as lacquer and a commanding air, and carried a long jian on his back.

Yang Tiexin stared for a moment, then cried out in delight, “Daoist Elder Qiu,⁷ so I see you again today!”

The two Daoists were Ma Yu, the Danyangzi,⁸ and Qiu Chuji, the Changchunzi. They had arranged to meet Wang Chuyi, the Yuyangzi, in Zhongdu⁹ to discuss the contest with the Seven Eccentrics of Jiangnan. The shixiong and shidi had hurried over, and had not expected to encounter Yang Tiexin and his wife here of all places. Qiu Chuji’s neigong¹⁰ was profound, and he had preserved his youth through cultivation. Though eighteen years had passed since they last met, his face was scarcely changed, save that his temples had gone quite grey. Hearing someone call out to him, he looked carefully but did not recognise the man.

Yang Tiexin called out, “Eighteen years ago, in Niu Family Village in Lin’an Prefecture, we drank wine and fought enemies together. Does Daoist Elder Qiu still remember?”

Qiu Chuji said, “You are…”

“I am Yang Tiexin. Has Daoist Elder Qiu been well since we last met?” With that, he flung himself to the ground and bowed.

Qiu Chuji hastened to return the salute, his heart full of doubt. Yang Tiexin had suffered great calamity, fallen on hard times in the jianghu, and wind and frost had worn his face until it was nothing like the man Qiu Chuji once knew.

Yang Tiexin saw his confusion, and the pursuers were close now, too close for explanations. He thrust his flower-spear forward in the move called Phoenix Dipping Head,¹¹ the red tassel trembling, the spearhead flickering as it darted towards Qiu Chuji’s chest. He shouted, “Daoist Elder Qiu, you may have forgotten me, but you cannot have forgotten this Yang Family Spear.” The spear-point halted about a foot from Qiu Chuji’s breast, frozen in place.

Qiu Chuji recognised at once that this spearwork was the true, orthodox Yang Family style. He remembered how, long ago, he had tried that spear in the snow. Suddenly confronted with the face of an old friend, he was flooded with grief and joy. He cried aloud, “Aha, Brother Yang,¹² you’re still alive? Thank Heaven and Earth!”

Yang Tiexin drew back his spear and cried, “Daoist Elder,¹³ save me!”

Qiu Chuji glanced at the pursuing horsemen and laughed. “Shixiong, I’m going to break the vow against killing again today. Don’t be angry with me.”

Ma Yu said, “Kill as few as you can. Frighten them off, that is enough.”

Qiu Chuji let out a long, ringing laugh and strode forward to meet the riders. His arms shot out, and he plucked two horsemen from their saddles, hurling them into two more behind. The four collided and tumbled in a heap. Qiu Chuji’s hands moved like lightning. He repeated the feat, throwing eight more and bowling over eight more, without a single miss. The remaining soldiers were terrified and wheeled their horses to flee.

Suddenly a figure leapt out from behind the cavalry. He was tall and burly, and his head was completely bald, gleaming with an oily shine. He roared, “Where did this mangy Daoist come from?” His figure flickered, and he closed on Qiu Chuji in a flash, palm raised to strike.

Qiu Chuji saw his speed and raised his palm to block. A sharp crack sounded, and both men stepped back three paces. Qiu Chuji was secretly startled. He thought, Who is this man? How can his skill be so formidable?

Startled as Qiu Chuji was, the Dragon King of Devil’s Gate, Sha Tongtian,¹⁴ was more startled still, and angrier, for his arm was aching dully. With a savage roar he swung his fists and charged.

Qiu Chuji dared not take him lightly. His palms shifted and turned as he braced himself for a serious fight. After ten-odd exchanges, Qiu Chuji’s five fingers brushed the top of Sha Tongtian’s bald scalp, leaving five red marks. His head burned and stung. Sha Tongtian knew he was no match for this Daoist with bare hands, and at once drew the iron oar¹⁵ from his back. The weapon was heavy and the strokes powerful. He swung it in the move called Su Qin Carrying the Jian on His Back,¹⁶ aiming for Qiu Chuji’s shoulder.

Qiu Chuji employed the Barehanded Weapon Seizing¹⁷ technique, seeking to disarm him. But Sha Tongtian had spent decades on this iron oar. On land it had killed fierce tigers and in the water it had struck down flood dragons, and it was no ordinary weapon. For a time Qiu Chuji could not wrest it from him. He was silently marvelling, and about to demand the man’s name, when a loud shout came from his left.

“Daoist Elder, which of the Quanzhen disciples might you be?” The voice was like splitting stone, fierce and overbearing.

Qiu Chuji leapt to the right. Four men stood on his left, arrived together: Peng Lianhu,¹⁸ Liang Ziweng,¹⁹ Ouyang Ke²⁰ and Hou Tonghai.²¹ He did not recognise any of them.

Qiu Chuji cupped his fists. “My surname is Qiu. May I ask your names, all of you?”

Qiu Chuji’s fame resounded north and south. Sha Tongtian and the rest exchanged glances, each thinking, No wonder this Daoist is so famous. He really is formidable. Peng Lianhu thought, We have already wounded Wang Chuyi, so the feud with the Quanzhen Order is settled whatever we do. If we join forces and kill this Qiu Chuji today, it’s the perfect chance to make our names throughout the land! He drew breath and bellowed, “All at him together.” Before the last of the shout had died away, he had drawn his twin Judge’s Brushes²² from his belt and sprung at Qiu Chuji. He came in armed from the very first move, out to kill. The upper brush stabbed towards the Yunmen acupoint,²³ and the lower brush thrust at the Taihe acupoint.²⁴ Both strikes carried his full strength, without a shred of mercy.

Qiu Chuji thought, This short fellow is a savage! And his skill is no ordinary skill, either. With a ringing hiss his jian was in his hand. The point stabbed towards the back of Peng Lianhu’s right hand, even as the blade sliced sideways at Sha Tongtian’s waist. As the jian drew back, the pommel slammed towards the Zhangmen acupoint²⁵ at Hou Tonghai’s ribs. One move, three attacks: his jian technique was superb. Sha Tongtian and Peng Lianhu swung their weapons to block. Hou Tonghai narrowly escaped the acupoint strike, and managed to twist away, but a heavy kick caught him on the rump. He pitched forward on his face, and as luck would have it, his three fleshy lumps hit the ground first.

Amid Hou Tonghai’s bellowing, Liang Ziweng, secretly alarmed, darted in to join the attack.

Ouyang Ke saw that Qiu Chuji was tangled with Sha Tongtian and Peng Lianhu, and Liang Ziweng was pressing in from the side. If ever there was a moment to take advantage, it was now. His left hand feinted, and his right jabbed the iron fan three times, tok, tok, tok, at three acupoints on Qiu Chuji’s back, the Taodao, the Hunmen and the Zhongshu. It looked as if Qiu Chuji could not possibly dodge, when suddenly a figure flashed beside him and a hand reached out and settled on the fan.

It was Ma Yu. He had been watching quietly to one side. Seeing so many experts attacking his shidi at once, he was greatly surprised. But when he saw Ouyang Ke’s iron fan cutting like wind, striking with urgent ferocity, he flew forward at once and went straight for the weapon. His three fingers touched the fan, and Ouyang Ke felt a deep, powerful neili²⁶ surge through the fan’s handle from those fingertips. Alarmed, he leapt back at once.

Ma Yu did not pursue. He said, “Who might you all be? We have never met before. If there is some misunderstanding, it can be talked through. Why resort to violence?” His voice was mild, but his breath was so full and strong that every word bored clear and bright into each listener’s ear.

Sha Tongtian and the rest had been fighting fiercely. At these words they all started, disengaged, and leapt clear, studying Ma Yu.

Ouyang Ke asked, “May we know the Daoist Elder’s honoured surname?”

Ma Yu said, “This humble Daoist is surnamed Ma.”

Peng Lianhu said, “Ah, so you are Danyang the Perfected One, Daoist Elder Ma. Forgive my discourtesy, forgive my discourtesy.”

Ma Yu said, “My attainments are slight. How could I dare accept the title ‘Perfected One’?”

While Peng Lianhu exchanged pleasantries, his mind was racing. We have made enemies of the Quanzhen Order. That debt will not simply go away. These two are the heads of the Quanzhen Order. If we catch them alone today and the five of us deal with them together, the future will be much easier. The only question is whether there are other Quanzhen experts nearby. He glanced around. There was only Yang Tiexin’s family of three. No other Daoists. He said, “The Seven Zis of Quanzhen are renowned throughout the world, and this humble one has long admired them. Where are the other five? Please bring them out so that we may meet them all.”

Ma Yu said, “We brothers neglect our quiet cultivation and meddle too much in worldly affairs. Our name is undeserved, and you heroes must find it laughable. The seven of us live in separate temples and seldom meet. This time my shidi Qiu and I came to Zhongdu to find our shidi Wang, and did not expect to meet all of you first. That too is a kind of fate. All the martial arts under heaven take different roads to the same end. Red lotus and white lotus root are one family at heart. Shall we be friends?” He was honest and guileless by nature, and had not the slightest notion that Peng Lianhu was sounding him out.

Peng Lianhu, hearing that the other side had no reinforcements and that they had not yet linked up with Wang Chuyi, saw that Ma Yu showed no sign of guarding against them. That meant not only could they win by weight of numbers, they might even take them by surprise. He said with a smile, “If the two Daoist Elders will not look down on us, nothing could be better. My surname is San, and my name is San Heimao.”²⁷

Ma Yu and Qiu Chuji were both taken aback, and thought, A man of such skill must be famous in the jianghu. San Heimao is a very strange name, and we have never once heard it.

Peng Lianhu tucked his Judge’s Brushes back into his belt and stepped close to Ma Yu, saying with a smile, “Daoist Elder Ma, what a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He held out his right hand, palm down, offering to clasp hands. Ma Yu, thinking it a gesture of goodwill, reached out his own hand. The moment their hands met, Ma Yu felt his hand squeezed hard. He thought, So this is how it is. He means to test my neili. He smiled faintly, summoned his strength and squeezed back. Then, without warning, a searing pain shot through the base of all five fingers, as though several steel needles had been driven into the flesh. Alarmed, he broke the grip at once.

Peng Lianhu laughed loudly and leapt back more than ten feet. Ma Yu raised his palm and saw that at the base of each finger a small puncture had broken the skin, burrowing deep into the flesh. Five black threads ran straight inward from them.

For as Peng Lianhu slid his Judge’s Brushes back into his belt, he had secretly slipped onto his right hand his own special weapon, a Poison Needle Ring.²⁸ The ring was forged of fine steel, thin as hemp thread, and bore five fine needles tipped with lethal poison. Once they broke the skin and drew blood, the victim was certain to die within five shichen.²⁹ The ring was normally worn to add deadly force to his palm strikes, so that anyone struck would not last half a day. He had deliberately given the absurd name “San Heimao” to put them off-guard, then closed in to clasp hands while Ma Yu was still puzzling over the strange name, so that the man would not notice the device on his fingers. When martial artists of the jianghu met for the first time, they were often unimpressed with one another, but since face forbade an open fight, they would clasp hands in a show of friendly regard that was in truth a contest of strength. It was nothing unusual for the weaker man to have the bones of his hand crushed and his palm swollen and bruised, or to be squeezed until he could not help crying out for mercy. Ma Yu had assumed this was the familiar trick of ostensible warmth concealing a hidden test of skill. He had no inkling of the lethal device concealed on Peng Lianhu’s hand. In the instant that both men exerted force, the five poisoned needles had pierced his palm, sinking so deep that the needle-roots vanished into flesh and bone. By the time he realised with a start and struck out with his left palm, Peng Lianhu had already leapt away.

Qiu Chuji saw his shixiong clasp hands in friendship, then suddenly turn and attack, and hastily asked, “What is it?”

Ma Yu cursed, “Treacherous villain, to wound me with so foul a trick.” He threw himself after Peng Lianhu. Qiu Chuji had always known his eldest shixiong to be the most forbearing of men, and in more than ten years had not once seen him raise a hand against anyone. Yet now, at his very first move, he had loosed the Frost-Treading Ice-Shattering Palm,³⁰ the most ferocious in the Quanzhen Order. Qiu Chuji knew he was truly enraged and that there must be grave cause. Swinging his jian, he swept round to the left and back to the right, darted in front of Peng Lianhu, and his jian flashed three times.

By now Peng Lianhu had his twin Brushes in hand again. He blocked two strikes and returned one. But the moves of Qiu Chuji’s left palm were no less vicious than his jian. It lashed out backhanded, and in the instant before Peng Lianhu’s brush could withdraw, Qiu Chuji seized the tip of the weapon and wrenched it outward with explosive force, roaring, “Let go!” The jerk carried all his neili, gathered and released, and it was no small force. Yet his opponent was formidable too, and the weapon did not fly from his grip. Qiu Chuji pressed the advantage, thrusting straight with his jian. Peng Lianhu was forced to abandon the brush and dodge. Qiu Chuji flung the captured Judge’s Brush far away, then attacked with jian in his right hand and palm in his left, pressing on without pause. Peng Lianhu, shorn of one weapon and his right arm gone numb, had lost his edge, and kept falling back.

By now Sha Tongtian and Liang Ziweng had closed on Ma Yu. Ouyang Ke and Hou Tonghai arrived from left and right to support Peng Lianhu. Qiu Chuji, facing three formidable opponents, was filled with fighting spirit. His palms wove drifting shadows, his jian flashed, and he fought faster and faster. Fighting three against one, he held his own. But on the other side, Ma Yu could hold out no longer. His right palm was swollen, and the poison was creeping upward, bringing numbness and itching in its wake. He had known the needles were poisoned, but had not expected the venom to be so virulent. He understood that the harder he exerted himself, the faster his blood would carry the poison to his heart. He withdrew to one side, using his left hand to wield the jian in defence while channelling his neili to hold the poison back.

Liang Ziweng’s weapon was a herb-hoe used for digging ginseng. He hacked and thrust, swept and struck, his moves shifting and unpredictable. Sha Tongtian’s iron paddle was heavier still, and more vicious. After several dozen exchanges, Ma Yu’s breathing grew laboured. The circle of his defence shrank tighter and tighter. Within, he fought the poison, and without, he fended off two enemies. Deep as his neili was, beset within and without, he grew weary in mind and body as the fight wore on.

Qiu Chuji saw his shixiong withdraw to one side, wisps of steam rising from his head as if from a steamer basket. He was greatly alarmed and pressed his attacks, desperate to overcome his three opponents and go to Ma Yu’s aid. But they would not let him disengage. Hou Tonghai was the weakest of the three, but Ouyang Ke’s strikes were vicious and uncanny, and his martial arts were better even than Peng Lianhu’s. And watching the school his technique came from, Qiu Chuji was more alarmed still. It looked exactly like the martial arts of the Western Venom,³¹ the line the Quanzhen Order had always feared above all others.

His mind raced, and he thought, Who is this man? Could he be a disciple of the Western Venom? Has the Western Venom come to the Central Plains again? Is he here in Zhongdu, even? With his attention divided, he found himself in danger again and again.

Yang Tiexin knew his own martial arts were nothing compared to these men. But desperate as things were, he could not simply take his wife and flee ahead of the others. Seeing Ma Yu and Qiu Chuji in peril, he thrust his flower-spear towards Ouyang Ke’s back.

Qiu Chuji cried out, “Brother Yang,³² stay back, don’t throw your life away!”

The words had barely left his mouth when Ouyang Ke’s left foot lashed out and snapped the spear-shaft. His right foot caught Yang Tiexin and sent him sprawling to the ground.

Footnotes

1. 杨铁心 — Yáng Tiěxīn. His name meaning “iron heart”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 穆念慈 — Mù Niàncí. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 花枪 — huāqiāng. Literally flower spear. A spear with a red tassel tied below the blade. ↩

4. 汤祖德 — Tāng Zǔdé. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 包惜弱 — Bāo Xīruò. Her name meaning “cherishing the weak”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 完颜康 — Wányán Kāng. See Wuxia Wiki (spoiler). ↩

7. 丘处机 — Qiū Chǔjī. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 丹阳子 — Dānyángzǐ. Literally master of the cinnabar yang. ↩

9. 中都 — Zhōngdū. Literally central capital. The Jin dynasty capital, in present-day Beijing. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 内功 — nèigōng. Literally internal cultivation. The practice of developing neili through breathing and meditation. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 凤点头 — Fèng Diǎntóu. A darting thrust, made with the jian by Han Xiaoying and with the spear by Yang Tiexin. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 老弟 — lǎodì. Literally old younger brother. A warm, familiar address to a younger man. ↩

13. 道长 — dàozhǎng. Literally Daoist elder. A respectful form of address for a Daoist priest. ↩

14. 沙通天 — Shā Tōngtiān. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 铁桨 — tiějiǎng. Literally iron oar. A heavy iron boat oar wielded as a weapon. ↩

16. 苏秦背剑 — Sū Qín Bèi Jiàn. Literally Su Qin carrying the jian on his back, after the Warring States strategist. ↩

17. 空手入白刃 — Kōngshǒu Rù Báirèn. Literally empty hands entering the white blade. A method of disarming an armed opponent with bare hands. ↩

18. 彭连虎 — Péng Liánhǔ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

19. 梁子翁 — Liáng Zǐwēng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

20. 欧阳克 — Ōuyáng Kè. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

21. 侯通海 — Hóu Tōnghǎi. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

22. 判官笔 — pànguānbǐ. Literally judge’s brush. A short stabbing weapon shaped like a writing brush, usually carried in pairs. ↩

23. 云门穴 — Yúnmén Xué. Literally cloud gate acupoint. An acupoint in the hollow beneath the collarbone. ↩

24. 太赫穴 — Tàihè Xué. An acupoint on the lower body. ↩

25. 章门穴 — Zhāngmén Xué. An acupoint on the side of the lower ribs. ↩

26. 内力 — nèilì. Literally internal force. The kinetic manifestation of cultivated qi. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

27. 三黑猫 — Sān Hēimāo. Literally three black cats. ↩

28. 毒针环 — Dúzhēn Huán. A ring set with poisoned needles, worn on the hand. Peng Lianhu’s secret weapon. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

29. 时辰 — shíchén. Traditional Chinese unit of time equal to two hours; the day was divided into twelve shichen. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

30. 履霜破冰掌法 — Lǚ Shuāng Pò Bīng Zhǎng Fǎ. Literally frost-treading ice-breaking palm method. The fiercest palm art of the Quanzhen Order. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

31. 西毒 — Xī Dú. Literally western venom. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

32. 兄 — xiōng. Literally elder brother. A courteous address between men. ↩