The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 15 – Part 2

Guo Jing took a room at the largest inn in town, choosing one of the best rooms, close to the counting room. He kept watch until dusk. Then harness bells jingled outside, a horse galloped up to the inn and pulled up short, and someone walked in and told the counting room to have wine and food ready the next day to welcome two travellers named Guo and Yang. Guo Jing had long since guessed it must be Huang Rong, yet hearing her voice now, he could not help a surge of joy, and his heart thumped wildly. He heard her take a room, and he thought, Rong-er loves her games. I shan’t let on I know. I’ll go and startle her tonight.

He slept until the second watch, then rose quietly, meaning to slip into Huang Rong’s room and give her a fright. But a figure flitted across the roof, and it was Huang Rong. Guo Jing wondered in astonishment, Where can she be going in the middle of the night? He summoned his qinggong¹ and stole after her.

Huang Rong ran straight out into the countryside to a little stream, sat down beneath a weeping willow, took some things from inside her jacket and bent over to play with them. The moonlight slanted down, a cool breeze stirred the willow strands, and the sashes of her dress fluttered a little. The stream ran on, insects chirred, and all around was cool and still. Then he heard her say, “This one is Jing gege, and this one is Rong-er. You two sit nicely there, facing each other. Yes, just like that.”

Guo Jing crept up behind her on tiptoe without a sound and looked over her shoulder in the moonlight. Before her stood two clay dolls made in Wuxi,² a boy and a girl, both round and chubby and adorably simple. At Returning Clouds Manor³ Huang Rong had told him that Wuxi clay figures were famous throughout the land. They were only toys, but they were exquisitely made, and in the local dialect they were called Da Afu.⁴ She had several of them on Peach Blossom Island.⁵ Guo Jing was amused and stole a few steps closer. In front of the dolls were set several tiny bowls and cups pinched out of clay, holding scraps of flowers and leaves, and she was saying softly, “This bowl is for Jing gege, and this bowl is for Rong-er. Rong-er cooked it. Is it good?”

Guo Jing chimed in, “Delicious, absolutely delicious!”

Huang Rong gave a little start and turned her head, dimples blooming in both cheeks, and threw herself into his arms. They held each other tight. Only after a long while did they draw apart and sit side by side by the willow-lined stream, telling each other everything that had happened since they parted. It had been only a few days, yet it felt as though they had not met for months and years. Huang Rong laughed and chattered away, and Guo Jing listened, rapt, lost in her.

That night Huang Rong had seen how desperate things were. Her father was set on killing Guo Jing and no one could talk him out of it, and in her desperation she had told her father she would never see him again. Huang Yaoshi loved his daughter dearly, and so he had spared Guo Jing. Huang Rong had stayed in the waters of Lake Tai for the better part of a shichen⁶ until she reckoned her father had gone. Then, anxious about Guo Jing, she had gone back to spy on Returning Clouds Manor. Finding him safe and sound, she was greatly relieved, and then, thinking back on how harshly she had spoken to her father, she was full of remorse. The next morning she had hidden in the trees outside the manor, watched Guo Jing and Yang Kang ride north side by side, and raced ahead of them to have their meals arranged.

They talked on until the moon stood high in the sky. It was the sixth month, and the quiet night was cool. Huang Rong was happy, and little by little her eyes grew heavy and her words blurred. A little later she was fast asleep in Guo Jing’s arms, her smooth skin a little cool, her breath soft and light. Afraid of waking her, Guo Jing leaned against the willow and did not stir. Before long he too fell asleep.

He could not tell how much time had passed when the song of orioles in the willow tips roused him. He opened his eyes to the first light of dawn, and a faint fragrance drifted to him. Huang Rong was still asleep, her delicate brows smooth and dark, her soft cheeks evenly flushed, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth, as if she were having a sweet dream.

Guo Jing thought, Let her sleep a little longer. I won’t wake her. He was counting her long lashes one by one when he heard someone a little over twenty feet away on his left say, “I’ve found out which building Young Mistress Cheng lives in. It’s in the garden behind the Tongren Pawnshop.” Another, aged voice said, “Good. We’ll do the job tonight.” The two were speaking very low, but Guo Jing had heard every word, and he was startled. These must be the flower-plucking lechers his shifus had told him about, he thought, and he could not let them do their evil.

All at once Huang Rong sprang up and called, “Jing gege, come and catch me.” She ran behind a big tree. Guo Jing stared blankly for a moment, then saw her beckoning to him again and again and understood. He made himself look like a lad at play and chased after her, laughing and giggling, his steps heavy and plodding, without the least sign that he knew any martial arts.

The two speakers had never dreamt there would be anyone out in the open country so early in the morning, and they were startled. But seeing only a youth and a girl chasing each other in play, they thought no more of it. They stopped talking, though, and walked straight on.

Huang Rong and Guo Jing watched them go. Both men were in rags, dressed as beggars. When they were well away, Huang Rong said, “Jing gege, what do you think they want with this Young Mistress Cheng tonight?”

Guo Jing said, “Nothing good, most likely. Shall we step in and save her?”

Huang Rong laughed. “Of course. I wonder whether those two beggars are Qigong’s men.”

“Certainly not,” said Guo Jing. “But Qigong said all the beggars in the world are his to command, didn’t he? Hmm. Then those two villains must be dressed up as beggars.”

“There are tens of thousands of beggars in the world,” said Huang Rong, “and there are bound to be plenty of bad ones among them. Qigong may be very capable, but he can’t keep every last one of them in good order. These two must be bad beggars. Qigong has been so good to us that we could never repay him, so if we help him keep his bad beggars in order, he’s sure to be pleased.”

Guo Jing nodded. “Exactly.” The thought that he could do Hong Qigong some small service made him very happy.

Huang Rong went on, “Those two were barefoot, and their shins were covered in sores. I’d say they’re real beggars. Nobody in disguise could look the part so well.”

Guo Jing was impressed. “You do look closely.”

The two went back to the inn for breakfast and then wandered along the main street. At the west end of town they came to a huge pawnshop, with the four characters Tongren Lao Dang⁷ painted on its white wall, each taller than a man. Sure enough, there was a garden at the back of the pawnshop, and in it stood an exquisitely built two-storey house, its eaves hung with fine bamboo blinds of a deep, cool green. The two exchanged a smile and went off hand in hand to amuse themselves elsewhere.

After the evening meal they napped in their room to rest. When the first watch had passed, they ran straight to the west of town, leapt the garden wall, and saw lamplight glowing faintly in the house. They climbed onto its roof, hooked their feet under the eaves and hung down head first. The weather had turned hot, and the upstairs windows had not been shut. They peered in through a gap in the bamboo blind, and what they saw took them quite by surprise.

There were seven people in the room, all of them women. A beautiful girl of eighteen or nineteen was reading by the lamp, and she had to be Young Mistress Cheng. The other six were dressed as maids, but each of them held a weapon. They were in tight-fitting fighting clothes and looked alert and full of vigour, and they all seemed to know martial arts.

Guo Jing and Huang Rong had come to rescue someone, only to find that she was well prepared already. There must be more to this than met the eye, they thought, and with their curiosity sharpened they climbed quietly back onto the roof and sat down to wait for the fun.

They had waited less than half a shichen when there was a faint click beyond the wall. Huang Rong tugged Guo Jing’s sleeve and they shrank back behind the eaves. Two dark figures leapt in over the wall, and by their build they were the beggars they had seen that morning. The two beggars crossed to the foot of the house and whistled softly. A maid lifted the bamboo blind and said, “Have the heroes of the Beggars’ Guild⁸ arrived? Please come up.” The two beggars sprang up to the upper floor.

In the darkness Guo Jing and Huang Rong looked at each other. After what they had heard the two beggars say in the morning, and seeing how watchfully Young Mistress Cheng was guarded, they had expected a fight the moment the beggars arrived. Who would have thought the two sides were friends?

The eldest Young Mistress Cheng rose to greet them with a curtsey. “May I ask your honoured names?”

The man with the aged voice said, “This humble one is surnamed Li. This is my shizhi,⁹ Yu Zhaoxing.”

Young Mistress Cheng said, “So you are Senior Li and Big Brother Yu. The heroes of the Beggars’ Guild act with chivalry and uphold justice, and everyone in the wulin¹⁰ admires them. This humble woman is greatly honoured to meet you both today. Please, sit down.” These were the stock courtesies of the jianghu,¹¹ but she said them shyly, pausing after every sentence, so that the whole speech came out stiff and halting. Her voice was soft and sweet, and words like “everyone in the wulin admires them” sat very oddly on her lips. By the time she had struggled to the end, her face had flushed crimson. She stole a glance up at the old beggar surnamed Li, lowered her head again, and asked in a small, soft voice, “Old hero, would you be Senior Li Sheng,¹² the one men call the Snake King of Jiangdong?”

The old beggar laughed. “You have a sharp eye, miss. I met your shifu once, Unbound Adept Qingjing,¹³ though we were never close. I have long held her in the highest regard.”

When Guo Jing heard “Unbound Adept Qingjing,” he thought, Unbound Adept Qingjing, Sun Buer, Immortal Maiden Sun, is one of the Seven Zis of Quanzhen.¹⁴ So this Young Mistress Cheng and these two beggars are not strangers after all.

Young Mistress Cheng said, “This junior cannot thank you enough for coming so chivalrously to my aid, old hero. I will do whatever you say.”

Li Sheng said, “You are a young lady of a noble house, miss. For that madman so much as to lay eyes on you would be a defilement.” Young Mistress Cheng blushed.

Li Sheng went on, “Please go and sleep in your honoured mother’s room tonight, and take these attendants of yours with you. I have my own way of dealing with that madman.”

Young Mistress Cheng said, “My martial arts may be poor, but I am not afraid of that villain. How could I bear to let you take the whole burden on yourself, Esteemed Senior?”

Li Sheng said, “Our Guild Chief Hong and the old Order Leader of your Order, Wang the Perfected One, were always good friends. We are all one family, miss. Why make any distinction between us?”

Young Mistress Cheng had been eager to fight, but at Li Sheng’s words she did not dare disobey. She curtseyed and said, “Then I leave everything to you, Esteemed Senior Li, and to Big Brother Yu.” With that she led her maids gracefully down the stairs.

Li Sheng went to the young lady’s bed, drew back the embroidered quilt, and lay down upon the fragrant coverlets in his filthy clothes, boots and all. He said to Yu Zhaoxing, “Go downstairs and keep watch all round with the others. Nobody moves without my order.” Yu Zhaoxing assented and went. Li Sheng pulled the silk quilt over himself, let down the gauze bed-curtain, snuffed the lamp, and turned to face the wall.

Huang Rong laughed to herself and thought, Young Mistress Cheng will never want that bedding again. I suppose the Beggars’ Guild all take after their Guild Chief and love a bit of tomfoolery. But who can they be waiting for here? This is turning into great fun. Knowing there were men keeping watch outside, she and Guo Jing hid without a sound behind the ridge of the roof.

After about the length of a watch, they heard the watchman at the pawnshop in front beat out the third watch, tock-tock, tock-tock, clang, clang, clang, and then, with a smack, a pebble was tossed into the garden. A moment later eight people slipped in over the wall and leapt straight up into the house. They struck a huozhezi¹⁵ alight, went over to the young lady’s bed, and blew the flame out again.

In that brief flare Guo Jing and Huang Rong had seen the newcomers plainly. They were Ouyang Ke’s women disciples, the ones who dressed as men and wore white. Four of the women went to the bedside, drew back the curtains, and flung the silk quilt over Li Sheng’s head, pinning him down hard. Two more held open a big cloth sack, lifted Li Sheng into it and pulled the cord to draw its mouth tight. They threw the quilt over his head and bagged him with the deftness of long habit, as if they had done it many times before, and in the dark it was over in a moment, without a sound. Four disciples each took a corner of the sack, hoisted it, and leapt down from the upper floor.

Guo Jing was about to follow, but Huang Rong whispered, “Let the Beggars’ Guild’s men go first.” Guo Jing thought she was right. He poked his head out to look and saw four women in front carrying the sack with Li Sheng in it and four more guarding them on either side. A few dozen feet behind them followed a dozen or more people, all with wooden cudgels or bamboo staffs in their hands. These, he supposed, were men of the Beggars’ Guild.

Footnotes

1. 轻功 — qīnggōng. The martial art of body lightness. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 无锡 — Wúxī. A city in Jiangsu, famed since the Song for its painted clay figurines. ↩

3. 归云庄 — Guīyún Zhuāng. Literally returning clouds manor. The Lu family manor on Lake Tai. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 大阿福 — Dà Āfú. Literally big blessed one. The plump clay figurines of Wuxi. ↩

5. 桃花岛 — Táohuā Dǎo. Huang Yaoshi’s island in the East China Sea. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

7. 同仁老当 — Tóngrén Lǎo Dàng. Literally Shared Benevolence Old Pawnshop. ↩

8. 丐帮 — Gàibāng. Literally beggars’ guild. The largest band in the jianghu, with members throughout the realm. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 师侄 — shīzhí. Lineage nephew. The disciple of one’s shixiong, shidi, shijie or shimei. Shī means teacher. Zhí means nephew. ↩

10. 武林 — wǔlín. Literally martial forest. Those who actually practise, teach or study martial arts. The wulin sits inside the jianghu and is narrower than it: every member of the wulin belongs to the jianghu, but a pedlar or physician of the jianghu who never trained is no part of the wulin. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 江湖 — jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. The world of martial artists, outside mainstream society. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 黎生 — Lí Shēng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

13. 清净散人 — Qīngjìng Sànrén. Literally unbound adept of purity and stillness. ↩

14. 全真教 — Quánzhēn Jiào. Literally complete truth order. Daoist martial-monastic order founded by Wang Chongyang, one of the most influential orthodox factions. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 火折子 — huǒzhézi. A tinder tube: rolled paper or fibre treated with saltpetre, kept smouldering in a tube and revived with a puff of breath. ↩