The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 18 – Part 3

The iron cap atop Ouyang Feng’s snake staff could be flipped open by a hidden catch, revealing two small holes. From each hole a small venomous snake would crawl out, writhing and twisting, ready to be loosed on an enemy. Rearing these two little snakes had taken more than ten years’ work, crossing several of the deadliest kinds of snake with one another until at last these two strange creatures were born, the most poisonous of all poisonous things. When Ouyang Feng punished a traitor among his men or a formidable enemy, he would often have the strange snakes on his staff give him a bite. The victim was racked from head to foot by an unbearable itching and soon died. Ouyang Feng did have an antidote, but once the venom was in the body, even a man whose life the antidote saved could not escape every kind of torment, and most of his martial arts were lost. Huang Rong had seen Ouyang Ke driving his snakes and supposed that the ones Ouyang Feng reared himself must be stranger and deadlier still. The words had come to her lips unthinking, yet they struck at the very thing the Western Venom and his nephew most dreaded.

Ouyang Ke said, “How would I dare lie to my father-in-law?”

Huang Rong spat. “Talk any more rubbish and I’ll box your ears good and hard before anything else. Now answer me. You and I met in Prince Zhao’s Estate in Yanjing, didn’t we?”

Ouyang Ke’s ribs were broken and his chest had been struck by her golden needles. The pain was almost more than he could bear, but he was too proud to give in, and he was using every ounce of his neigong¹ to endure it. While he kept silent he could circulate his neili² and hold the pain off by force, but those two sentences had already brought the cold sweat streaming down his forehead. When Huang Rong questioned him again, he dared not open his mouth to answer and could only nod.

Huang Rong asked further, “At that time, you joined forces with Sha Tongtian, Peng Lianhu, Liang Ziweng, the monk Lingzhi and the rest of them to fight me single-handed, didn’t you?” Ouyang Ke wanted to protest, to explain that it was not he who had gathered so many fighters to bully her, but he had only managed the words, “I… I wasn’t allied with them…” before pain seized his chest so fiercely he could not squeeze out another syllable.

Huang Rong said, “Very well. I don’t need your answer. Just listen to my questions and nod or shake your head. Now tell me. Sha Tongtian, Peng Lianhu, Liang Ziweng, the monk Lingzhi and that lot were all against me, weren’t they?” Ouyang Ke nodded. Huang Rong said, “They all wanted to capture me, and none of them succeeded. Then you stepped in, didn’t you?” Ouyang Ke could only nod again. Huang Rong went on, “At the time I was in the main hall of Prince Zhao’s Estate, with no one to help me, all by myself and so very pitiful. My father didn’t know and hadn’t come to save me, did he?” Ouyang Ke knew perfectly well she was trying to stir her father’s pity and so make him loathe Ouyang Ke, but the facts were as she said and there was no denying them. He could only nod once more.

Huang Rong took her father’s hand and said, “Father, you see? You don’t feel the least bit sorry for Rong-er. If Mother were still alive, you would never treat me like this…” At the mention of his beloved dead wife, Huang Yaoshi felt a pang of grief, and he put his left arm around her.

Ouyang Feng saw that things were going against them and broke in. “Miss Huang, all those famous figures of the wulin³ tried to hold on to you, but with the peerless martial arts of your family behind you, none of them could do a thing about it, could they?” Huang Rong smiled and nodded, and Huang Yaoshi, hearing Ouyang Feng praise the martial arts of his house, smiled faintly. Ouyang Feng turned to him. “Brother Yao, when my nephew saw your daughter’s skill, he was utterly captivated. So he sent word by carrier pigeon, relayed from station to station all the way from the Central Plains to White Camel Mountain, begging me to come ten thousand li⁴ to Peach Blossom Island and ask for her hand in person. Unworthy as I am, there is no one alive but you, Brother Yao, for whom I would ride so hard, day and night, without a rest.” Huang Yaoshi laughed. “You have gone to great trouble on my account. I am not worthy of it.” Yet he could not help feeling flattered that a man of Ouyang Feng’s standing should have come so far to see him.

Ouyang Feng turned to Hong Qigong and said, “Seventh Brother, my nephew and I have long admired Peach Blossom Island’s martial arts and talent. Why should that offend you, so that you took it out on a youngster in earnest? If my nephew weren’t destined for a long life, he’d have died long ago under that peerless Sky-Blanketing Blossom Rain Needle Cast⁵ of yours, old brother.” That day Hong Qigong had acted to save Ouyang Ke from the golden needles Huang Rong had thrown. Now, hearing Ouyang Feng turn the matter on its head and blame him, he understood at once that either Ouyang Ke had lied to his uncle or Ouyang Feng himself was deliberately twisting right and wrong. He had no wish to argue the point. He gave a great laugh, pulled the stopper from his gourd and took a long swig of wine.

But Guo Jing could contain himself no longer. He cried, “It was Qigong who saved your nephew’s life. How can you turn it round like that?”

Huang Yaoshi barked, “We are talking. How dare a brat like you butt in?”

Guo Jing said urgently, “Rong-er, tell your father about how he… how he tried to carry off Young Mistress Cheng.”

Huang Rong knew her father through and through. She knew he had always despised the common view of things and often said, “How could ritual and law have been made for the likes of us?” He admired the free, unbridled ways of the men of the Jin dynasty, and in all he did he sought only what pleased his own heart. What others deemed right, he might deem wrong. What others deemed wrong, he might deem right. That was how he had earned his nickname the Eastern Heretic. She thought now, Everything Ouyang Ke has done is thoroughly hateful, but Father might just call him romantic and free-spirited. When she saw her father eyeing Guo Jing askance, his face full of disapproval, a plan came to her. She turned again to Ouyang Ke and said, “I haven’t finished questioning you! The day we fought in Prince Zhao’s Estate, you had both hands tied behind your back and said you could beat me without using your hands or returning a single strike, didn’t you?” Ouyang Ke nodded in assent.

Huang Rong went on, “Later, when I had taken Qigong as my shifu⁶ and fought you a second time in Baoying, you said that no matter how much of the martial arts my father or Qigong had taught me I used, you would only need one of the fist techniques your uncle taught you to defeat me, didn’t you?” Ouyang Ke thought, You set those conditions, not me. Seeing him hesitate, Huang Rong pressed him. “You drew a circle on the ground with the tip of your foot and said that if I could just force you out of it with the martial arts my father taught me, you would count as the loser, didn’t you?” Ouyang Ke nodded.

Huang Rong said to her father, “Father, do you hear? He looks down on Qigong, and he looks down on you too. He says that even if the two of you join forces, your martial arts still fall far short of his uncle’s. Isn’t that the same as saying the two of you combined couldn’t beat his uncle? I for one don’t believe it.”

Huang Yaoshi said, “Don’t go making mischief with your tongue, girl. Every student of the martial arts under heaven knows that the Eastern Heretic, the Western Venom, the Southern Emperor and the Northern Beggar stand equal in martial arts and matched in neili.” But for all his words, he was already a good deal displeased by Ouyang Ke’s arrogance, and not wishing to dwell on it, he turned to Hong Qigong and said, “Seventh Brother, what brings you to Peach Blossom Island?”

Hong Qigong said, “I have come to ask you for something.”

Hong Qigong might be a jester who made light of the world, but he was upright, chivalrous and a champion of justice, and his martial arts were of the very highest order. Huang Yaoshi had always held him in great esteem. He knew, too, that even with a matter as big as the sky on his hands, Hong Qigong would only ever settle it himself with the men of his Beggars’ Guild, so to hear him say he wanted something of him made Huang Yaoshi very glad, and he said at once, “With decades of friendship between us, if Seventh Brother gives the order, how could I not obey?”

Hong Qigong said, “Don’t agree too quickly. I’m afraid this won’t be easy to grant.”

Huang Yaoshi laughed, “If it were easy, Seventh Brother wouldn’t have thought of me.”

Hong Qigong clapped his hands and laughed. “Exactly, now that’s what I call a good brother who understands me! So it’s settled, you agree?”

Huang Yaoshi said, “My word on it! Into the fire if it’s fire, into the water if it’s water!” He had always known Hong Qigong for an upright man, whose request could not be anything wicked, and so he agreed without a second thought.

Ouyang Feng swung his snake staff and cut in, “Brother Yao, hold on. Let us first hear what Seventh Brother wants.”

Hong Qigong laughed, “Old Venom, this has nothing to do with you. Don’t go sticking your oar in. Just get your belly ready for the wedding wine.”

Ouyang Feng asked in surprise, “Wedding wine?”

Hong Qigong said, “Indeed. Wedding wine.” He pointed at Guo Jing and Huang Rong. “Both of these are my disciples. I have already promised them I would ask Brother Yao to let them marry. And Brother Yao has already agreed.”

Guo Jing and Huang Rong looked at each other, astonished and overjoyed. Ouyang Feng, his nephew and Huang Yaoshi were all startled.

Ouyang Feng said, “Seventh Brother, you misspeak! Brother Yao’s honoured daughter was long since betrothed to my nephew. I have come to Peach Blossom Island today for the very purpose of presenting the betrothal gifts.”

Hong Qigong said, “Brother Yao, is this true?”

Huang Yaoshi said, “It is. Seventh Brother, don’t make fun of me.”

Hong Qigong’s face darkened. “Who’s making fun of anyone? You’ve promised one daughter to two families, so now both sides have the parents’ consent.” He turned to Ouyang Feng. “I am the Guo family’s matchmaker. Where’s your matchmaker’s word?”

Ouyang Feng had not expected this question and could not answer at once. He said blankly, “Brother Yao has agreed, and I have agreed. What more need of a matchmaker?”

Hong Qigong said, “Do you know there’s one more who hasn’t agreed?”

Ouyang Feng asked, “Who?”

Hong Qigong said, “Ha ha, I’m afraid it’s this old beggar!”

Ouyang Feng had long known Hong Qigong for a man of fierce temper and iron resolve, and at these words he knew there would be no avoiding a fight with him today. Yet his face showed nothing. He only pondered, and gave no answer.

Hong Qigong laughed. “Your nephew is a bad lot. How is he fit for Brother Yao’s flower of a daughter? Even if you two old men forced the match through, the pair of them would never get on. They’d be at each other with daos and spears every day, hacking and killing. What fun would there be in that?”

These words struck a chord in Huang Yaoshi. He looked towards his daughter and saw her gazing at Guo Jing, her eyes brimming with tenderness, and at a glance the dull-witted youth seemed to him more loathsome than words could say. He was clever beyond compare, and in letters and in warfare, in music, chess, calligraphy and painting, there was nothing he did not know and nothing he had not mastered. The friends he had kept all his life were men of talent or of refined taste. His wife and daughter were both surpassingly intelligent. To think of giving his only beloved daughter to this dull-witted, muddle-headed boy was truly like planting a fine flower in cow-dung. He looked at the boy standing beside Ouyang Ke, and side by side Ouyang Ke was a hundred times his superior in looks, refinement and talent. His resolve to give her to the Ouyangs grew firmer than ever, but he must not make Hong Qigong lose face. A moment’s thought gave him a plan, and he said, “Brother Feng, your nephew is slightly injured. Heal him first, then we will discuss the matter at leisure.”

Ouyang Feng had been anxious about his nephew’s injury all along and was only too glad to hear him say so. He at once signalled to his nephew, and the two of them withdrew into the bamboo grove. Huang Yaoshi spent the time speaking with Hong Qigong of old times. After the space of a meal, uncle and nephew returned to the pavilion. Ouyang Feng had sucked out the gilded steel needles and set the broken rib.

Huang Yaoshi said, “My daughter is a frail thing, as weak as rushes and willows, and wayward besides, hardly fit to serve a junzi.⁷ I never dreamt that Seventh Brother and Brother Feng would think so well of me as both to come seeking her hand, and I am deeply honoured. My daughter was indeed first promised to the Ouyang family. But Seventh Brother’s command is also hard to refuse. I have a proposal. I pray both brothers consider whether it is workable.”

Hong Qigong said, “Out with it, out with it. This old beggar has no ears for your bookish flummery.”

Huang Yaoshi smiled faintly and said, “As for this daughter of mine, there is not a word to be said for her virtue, looks, speech or needlework. Still, I hope to see her married to a good husband. House Brother Ouyang is Brother Feng’s worthy nephew, and House Brother Guo is Seventh Brother’s distinguished disciple, and neither leaves anything to be desired in family or character. Choosing between them puts me in a sore quandary, so I can only set three questions and examine the two House Brothers. Whichever proves the more gifted and quick-witted shall have my daughter’s hand. I shall show no favouritism. Would that suit my two old friends?”

Ouyang Feng clapped his hands and cried, “Excellent, excellent! Only my nephew is injured. If the test is martial arts, it must wait until he recovers.” He had seen Guo Jing injure his nephew with a single strike. If they competed in martial arts, his nephew would surely lose. Now his nephew’s wound had turned into the best possible excuse.

Huang Yaoshi said, “Indeed. Besides, a martial contest might wound the harmony between our two families.”

Hong Qigong thought, What a crafty devil you are, Old Heretic Huang. We’re all men of the wulin, and you’d examine them in letters and not in martial arts? Then why not go and get yourself a top graduate of the palace examinations for a son-in-law? If you set questions on poetry and prose, my dull-witted disciple wouldn’t stand a chance even if he were reborn. You say you’ll show no favouritism, but you’re biased through and through. By such a test my poor disciple is certain to lose. Damn it, I’ll have a fight with Old Venom first and settle it that way. He threw back his head and laughed, glared straight at Ouyang Feng and said, “We’re all martial artists. If we don’t test martial arts, are we to test eating and shitting? Your nephew is injured, but you are not. Come, come, you and I will take the exam on their behalf.” Without waiting for Ouyang Feng’s reply, he swung his palm at Ouyang Feng’s shoulder.

Ouyang Feng sank his shoulder, drew in his arm and fell back several feet. Hong Qigong laid his bamboo staff on the bamboo table beside him and barked, “Hit back, then.” The words had barely left his mouth before his hands had launched seven attacks, each swift beyond measure. Ouyang Feng blocked left and dodged right, avoiding all seven. His right hand thrust the snake staff into a crack between the pavilion’s floor-tiles, and in that same instant his left hand had already returned seven strikes of his own.

Footnotes

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

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

3. 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. ↩

4. 里 — lǐ. A traditional unit of distance, about 500 metres or one-third of a mile. ↩

5. 满天花雨掷金针 — Mǎntiān Huāyǔ Zhì Jīnzhēn. Literally the whole sky a rain of blossoms, casting golden needles. A needle-throwing art Hong Qigong teaches Huang Rong, a dozen needles loosed at once. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 师父 — shīfù. Teacher responsible for technical instruction and moral guidance. Shī means teacher. Fù means father. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 君子 — jūnzǐ. Literally noble man. The Confucian ideal of the morally cultivated man. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩