The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 2 – Part 8

Qiu Chuji took a long stride to the left, clear of the Tong Ren position, never dreaming that Ke Zhen’e would suddenly play a trick on him. Two voices cried out in alarm together.

One caltrop had struck Qiu Chuji in the right shoulder. The other, thrown at the Sun position, had hit Han Xiaoying in the back.

Ke Zhen’e, both startled and pleased, called out, “Seventh Sister, come quickly!”

Han Xiaoying knew that Big Brother’s hidden weapons¹ were tipped with poison and hurried to his side. Ke Zhen’e fished a yellow pill from his pouch and pressed it between her lips. “Go and lie on the bare earth in the back garden, and don’t move. Wait for me to come and treat your wound.”

The caltrop that had hit Qiu Chuji did not hurt much. Then the wound began to tingle with numbness. Alarmed, he realised the hidden weapon was poisoned. His heart turned cold. He dared not prolong the fight. Gathering his strength, he thrust a punch straight at Nan Xiren’s face.

Seeing how fierce the blow was, Nan Xiren set himself firmly in a horse stance, and swung his solid-steel carrying pole across with a move of River-Spanning Iron Chain,² blocking the way.

Qiu Chuji did not withdraw his fist. With a great grunt as he drove out his breath, he struck the pole square in the middle. Nan Xiren shook from head to foot, the skin between thumb and forefinger split open on both his hands, and blood streamed down. With a clang, the pole fell from his grasp. Desperate and fighting for his life, Qiu Chuji had put everything into that single punch. Nan Xiren suffered internal injury at once. His stance turned unsteady. Golden sparks swam before his eyes and a sweet taste rose in his throat. With a retch, he spewed out a mouthful of blood.

Though Qiu Chuji had wounded another man, his shoulder grew ever more numb, and holding up the vat was becoming a great strain. With a great shout, he swept his left leg out. Han Baoju leapt aside to dodge.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Qiu Chuji cried, thrusting out his right hand. The bronze vat came crashing down from mid-air.

Han Baoju was still in the air with nowhere to brace himself. He managed only half a somersault before the great vat descended over his head. Fearing for his body, he immediately curled into a ball with his hands clasped over his head. With a tremendous crash, the bronze vat settled squarely over him.

Having hurled the bronze vat, Qiu Chuji at once drew his jian, leapt up, and sliced through the thick rope suspending the great bell. With a push of his left palm, the bell, weighing over a thousand jin,³ rang with a heaven-shaking crash and fell upon the bronze vat. Even had Han Baoju possessed the strength of a god, he could not have climbed out now. The two feats of strength had drained Qiu Chuji. His limbs felt weak and soft, and drops of sweat as big as soybeans broke out one by one on his forehead.

Ke Zhen’e called out, “Throw down your jian and surrender, quick. Hold out a moment longer and your life is forfeit.”

Qiu Chuji thought to himself, This evil monk is in league with Jin soldiers and government troops. The temple harbours women, and their conduct is utterly depraved. If the Seven Eccentrics of Jiangnan⁴ are in league with such men, then their name as xia⁵ in the jianghu⁶ must be false as well. I, Qiu, would rather lose my life than bend the knee to villains. His jian flashed as he fought his way outward.

Of the Seven Eccentrics of Jiangnan, only Ke Zhen’e and Zhu Cong remained unwounded. Whether the others lived or died was unknown. How could they let him escape the temple now? Ke Zhen’e swung his iron staff, blocking the doorway against him. Qiu Chuji forced his way through, his jian carrying fierce wind as it thrust straight at Ke Zhen’e’s face. Ke Zhen’e the Flying Bat, reading the attack by sound, raised his staff to parry.

Staff and jian crossed. Qiu Chuji nearly lost his grip on his weapon and was greatly alarmed. He thought, Can this blind man’s neili⁷ be so deep? Does his neili really surpass mine? He followed with another thrust that again met the iron staff. Only then did he realise it was his wounded right shoulder that had weakened his force, not his opponent’s prowess. His own strength was failing him. At once he transferred the jian to his left hand and began a set of jian techniques he had never once used against an enemy since mastering it, the Mutual Destruction Swordplay.⁸

Flashes of steel lit the air. Every move aimed at the vital points of Ke Zhen’e, Zhu Cong, and Jiaomu. He made no attempt at defence, attacking with relentless ferocity.

This Mutual Destruction Swordplay took its name from the meaning of “perishing together.” Every move attacked the enemy’s vital points with vicious intent. Each stroke was ruthless, each thrust merciless, a manner of fighting that cast one’s life away entirely. Though it was a supreme jian art, it shared its principle with the shameless tactics of street ruffians. The Quanzhen Order had a great enemy who dwelt long in the Western Regions. The man was vicious and his martial arts were exceedingly high, far surpassing the Seven Zis of Quanzhen.⁹ In years past, only their shifu¹⁰ had been able to hold him in check. Now their revered shifu had passed away, and should this man return to the Central Plains, the Quanzhen Order faced destruction. The Quanzhen Order possessed the Big Dipper Formation,¹¹ which was more than a match for him, but it required all seven to wield together. Should they encounter this man suddenly and by chance, the seven might not be gathered. This Mutual Destruction Swordplay was devised to deal with this great enemy. It could be used by a single practitioner, with the hope that one or two might die taking the foe with them, thus preserving the rest of the shimen.¹² Now Qiu Chuji was poisoned, beset by three skilled opponents, and his life hung by a thread. He had no choice but to use this desperate art that cared nothing for survival.

After some ten moves, Ke Zhen’e was wounded in the leg by the jian.

Jiaomu cried out, “Big Brother Ke, Second Brother Zhu, let this Daoist go.”

His attention wavered for that one moment, and Qiu Chuji’s jian went into his right side. Jiaomu cried out and fell.

By now Qiu Chuji himself was swaying on the verge of collapse, unable to stand firm. Zhu Cong’s eyes were bloodshot. Cursing, he circled and fought around Qiu Chuji from before and behind. After several more exchanges, Ke Zhen’e, unable to see, was fooled again and again as Qiu Chuji feinted east and struck west, now false, now real, and thrust seven or eight times in quick succession. Unable to tell where the thrusts were coming from, Ke Zhen’e was wounded again in the right leg. He pitched forward and fell.

Zhu Cong cursed loudly, “Dog of a Daoist, thieving Daoist, the poison in you has reached your heart! Go on, try three more thrusts.”

Qiu Chuji’s beard and brows bristled. His eyes blazed with fury. Grasping his jian in his left hand, he stumbled in pursuit.

Zhu Cong’s qinggong¹³ was superb. He fled around the Buddha statues in the great hall at top speed. Qiu Chuji knew he could hold on no longer. With a sigh, he stopped pursuing. His vision blurred before him. He steadied his mind and tried to find a way out of the temple.

Suddenly, with a smack, something hit him in the back. It was a cloth shoe Zhu Cong had pulled off his foot, and soft as it was, there was neijin¹⁴ behind it.

Qiu Chuji staggered. Smoke and mist seemed to swim before his eyes. His consciousness began to fade. As he gathered his scattered wits, a heavy thud struck the back of his head. This time it was a wooden fish Zhu Cong had snatched from before the Buddha statue. Fortunately Qiu Chuji’s neigong¹⁵ was deep. An ordinary man would have been killed outright by such a blow, but even so, darkness swam before his eyes. He thought, It’s over, it’s over. Today the Changchunzi¹⁶ dies at the hands of shameless men! His legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the ground.

Fearing Qiu Chuji might rise again after falling, Zhu Cong took up his fan and bent to seal the acupoints on his chest. Suddenly he saw Qiu Chuji’s left hand stir slightly. Knowing something was amiss, he hastily thrust his right arm across his chest to shield himself. A great force struck his lower abdomen and he flew backwards through the air. Before he even landed, blood gushed from his mouth. The neigong Qiu Chuji had cultivated was the orthodox Quanzhen arts transmitted by Wang Chongyang. Though his body could barely move, the neili he had accumulated over years was profound, and that single palm strike was no small matter.

The monks of Fahua Monastery¹⁷ knew no martial arts, nor did they know their abbot possessed such extraordinary skill. When the great hall was suddenly turned upside down by fighting, they had all hidden in terror. After a long while, hearing no more noise from the hall, a few bold young novices peeped in. They saw the floor covered with bodies and blood everywhere. In alarm, they shouted and stumbled off to find Duan Tiande.

Duan Tiande had been hiding in the cellar all along. When the monks told him that both sides of the fight lay dead or wounded, he was beside himself with joy. Yet he feared Qiu Chuji might not be among them, so he sent a young novice back to make sure whether the Daoist was dead. When the novice returned and reported that the Daoist lay face-down with eyes closed, Duan Tiande was reassured. He dragged Li Ping and ran to the great hall.

He kicked Qiu Chuji. The Daoist breathed faintly. He was not yet dead.

Duan Tiande drew his waist dao and shouted, “You thieving Daoist, you’ve hounded me hard enough. Today your old man here will send you off to the Western Heaven!”

Jiaomu, though grievously wounded, saw that Duan Tiande was about to kill, and gathered his breath to cry out, “No… you mustn’t harm him!”

“What for?” Duan Tiande asked.

“He’s a good man…” said Jiaomu. “Only he’s hot… hot-tempered, and there’s been a misunderstanding…”

Duan Tiande laughed aloud and raised his dao to strike down on Qiu Chuji’s crown.

Seeing that all hope was lost, Qiu Chuji gathered his neili and struck out with his palm. It struck Duan Tiande’s right arm squarely. With a cracking sound, the arm bone broke at once and the steel dao fell to the ground.

Jiaomu was enraged beyond measure. Summoning all his remaining strength, he hurled the charred piece of wood in his hand at Duan Tiande. Duan Tiande twisted aside, but with the pain of his broken arm he could not get clear. The charred wood struck him at the corner of his mouth and knocked out three teeth at once. The pain drove Duan Tiande mad with fury. Not daring to go near Qiu Chuji, he picked up his dao in his left hand and hacked at Jiaomu’s head. A young novice beside him seized his right arm and hung on with all his might, and another pulled at his collar. Duan Tiande, beside himself with rage, cut both the novices down with the dao in his left hand.

Though Qiu Chuji, Jiaomu, and the Seven Eccentrics of Jiangnan were all skilled in martial arts, they were now every one severely wounded. They could only watch helplessly as he committed murder.

Qiu Chuji, the Changchunzi, had always been shrewd in his dealings. But seeing his opponents in league with Jin soldiers, he had taken them for traitors who sold their country for glory. Guo and Yang were skilled in martial arts, and had most likely died at their hands. In grief and fury, he had shown no mercy. Ke Zhen’e, leader of the Seven Eccentrics of Jiangnan, and Zhu Cong were not rash men either. But seeing Qiu Chuji’s vicious attacks bearing down on them, with misunderstandings running deep on both sides, once they engaged, neither side would yield, until both were ruined in the fight.

Li Ping shouted, “Villain, stop!” She had been dragged hither and thither by Duan Tiande as he fled. Seeing the villain about to kill again, she could contain herself no longer and threw herself at him, beating with all her might. With one arm broken, Duan Tiande had no strength to resist.

The others saw she wore a soldier’s garb and took her for one of Duan Tiande’s subordinates. Why was she risking her life to stop him from killing? All were astonished. Ke Zhen’e was blind but his ears were preternaturally sharp. The moment he heard her cries, he knew she was a woman. He sighed, “Monk Jiaomu, we’re all done for because of you. Your temple really is hiding a woman!”

Jiaomu started. At once he understood. He had been careless, deceived by this beast, and without meaning to had betrayed a good friend. Rage and anguish seized him. He braced his hands against the ground and hurled his body up, fingers spread wide, and lunged fiercely at Duan Tiande. Seeing his fierce approach, Duan Tiande dodged in alarm. But Jiaomu’s movements were stiff from his grievous wounds. He crashed head-first into one of the great hall’s pillars. His skull burst and he died on the spot.

Duan Tiande was frightened out of his wits. He dared not linger. Seizing Li Ping, he fled in haste. Li Ping screamed, “Help, I won’t go, help!” Her voice grew fainter and fainter in the distance.

Footnotes

1. 暗器 — ànqì. Literally dark weapon. Darts, needles, pellets and other projectiles thrown or launched unseen. ↩

2. 铁锁横江 — Tiěsuǒ Héngjiāng. Defensive technique using steel carrying pole horizontally to block attacks. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 斤 — jīn. A unit of weight, about 590 grams in the Song dynasty. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 江南七怪 — Jiāngnán Qī Guài. Literally seven eccentrics of Jiangnan. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 侠 — xiá. A person adept in the martial arts who acts with chivalry and upholds the right. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

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

8. 同归剑法 — Tóngguī Jiànfǎ. Literally perish-together jian method. A Quanzhen jian technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 全真七子 — Quánzhēn Qīzǐ. Literally the seven zi of Quanzhen, zi being an honorific for a master. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

11. 天罡北斗阵 — Tiāngāng Běidǒu Zhèn. Literally Big Dipper formation of the Heavenly Ladle. A Quanzhen formation of seven, laid out on the stars of the Big Dipper. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 师门 — shīmén. Literally the teacher’s gate. The house of one’s shifu: the master, the fellow disciples, and the rules and obligations binding them. ↩

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

14. 内劲 — nèijìn. Literally internal force. Neili channelled into a strike or an object. ↩

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

16. 长春子 — Chángchūnzǐ. Literally master of eternal spring. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

17. 法华寺 — Fǎhuá Sì. Literally Dharma Blossom Monastery. A Buddhist monastery in Jiaxing. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩