The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 36 – Part 6

In an instant the grassland rang with a clamour that shook heaven and earth, as though a great battle were already under way.

Genghis Khan dismissed his generals and soldiers and sat alone in the golden chair, lost in thought. The chair had been carried off when the Jin Central Capital fell. On its back was cast a coiling dragon snatching at a pearl, and on each armrest was carved a fierce tiger. It had once been the throne of the Jin emperor. Genghis Khan rested his chin on his hand and brooded. He thought of the hardships and dangers of his youth. He thought of his mother, his wife, his four sons and his beloved daughter. He thought of his many beautiful consorts, of his army that had never known defeat, of his empire without border or end, and of the formidable enemy that now awaited him.

Old as he was, his ears remained exceedingly keen. He caught the sound of a war-horse crying out in anguish some distance away, then abruptly falling silent. He knew it was an old horse that had fallen ill beyond cure, and that its master, unable to bear its lingering suffering, had killed it with a single stroke.

Suddenly he thought, I too am growing old. Shall I come back alive from this campaign? If I fall on the battlefield, with my four sons fighting to be Great Khan, won’t they turn heaven and earth upside down? Ah, is there no way I might never die at all?

Even the greatest hero, victorious in every battle and afraid of nothing, cannot help a shiver at the thought of that one word, death, once his strength begins to wane. He thought, I have heard that in the south there is a class of men called Daoists, who can teach a man to become an immortal and never grow old. Is it really true?

He clapped his hands twice and summoned a quiver-guard,¹ ordering him to fetch Guo Jing.

Before long Guo Jing arrived, and Genghis Khan questioned him on the matter. Guo Jing said, “Whether immortality and ascension to the heavens are real, I cannot say. But if you mean cultivating the breath and practising the art of inhalation and exhalation to lengthen one’s years, that much is certainly genuine.”

Genghis Khan was delighted. “Do you know such a person? Go and find me one at once.”

Guo Jing said, “Men of the Way like that will never come if they are simply summoned.”

Genghis Khan said, “True enough. I shall send a high official to invite him north with proper ceremony. Who, in your opinion, should we ask?”

Guo Jing thought to himself, The true orthodox line of the Daoist school under heaven is of course the Quanzhen Order.² Of the Six Zis of Quanzhen, Daoist Elder Qiu³ has the highest martial arts and is the readiest to involve himself in affairs. He may perhaps be persuaded to come. So he spoke the name of Changchunzi Qiu Chuji.

Genghis Khan was greatly pleased. He at once summoned his scribe and explained the matter, bidding him draft the edict. The scribe had only just taken a beating from him, and so he pondered long and hard before writing, “We have business. Come quickly.” He had imitated the Great Khan’s own terse style, and the edict contained but six characters, which he was certain would please. Instead, Genghis Khan flew into a rage the moment he heard it read aloud. He lashed out with his whip again and cursed, “That’s how I speak to the dog-king. Am I to speak that way to a man of the Way too? Write a long one, respectful and polite.”

The scribe could not write the script of the Middle Kingdom, so he went at once and found a Han man well versed in Han writing, charging him to compose a humble, courteous edict inviting Qiu Chuji with due formality. The Han scholar lay prostrate on the ground and wrote out this draft.

“Heaven has wearied of the arrogance and boundless extravagance of the Central Plains. We, abiding in the northern wilds, have a nature in which no cravings arise. We return to the uncarved block and to simplicity, and cast off luxury for frugality. In every garment and every meal We share the hardships and the fare of cowherds and grooms. We look upon the people as Our own children and keep Our warriors as brothers. Our counsels have long been in harmony, and Our kindness long laid up. We drill the multitude and go before them in Our own person. We face a hundred battle lines and give no thought to what lies behind Us. Within seven years the great enterprise was accomplished, and all within the six directions became one. It is not that Our conduct is virtuous, but that the government of the Jin lost its constancy. Thus have We received the protection of Heaven and come to the supreme throne. To the south We border the Zhao house of Song, to the north the Uyghurs, and the Xia of the east and the tribes of the west all call themselves Our vassals. We reflect that in the thousand years and hundred generations of Our realm of the khans, such a thing has never been. Yet the charge is great and the trust heavy, and even in peace We fear some lack. A man hollows a boat and shapes an oar because he would cross the rivers. A ruler engages the worthy and chooses his aides because he would bring peace to all under heaven. Since We ascended the throne We have laboured at the many affairs of state, yet for the places of the Three Dukes and Nine Ministers We have not found the men. We have learned that Master Qiu embodies the truth and walks by the rule, is broad in learning and wide in knowledge, searches out the hidden and exhausts the principles of things, and is deep in the Way and eminent in virtue. He bears the austere air of the junzi of old and holds the refined integrity of a perfected man. Long has he dwelt among crags and valleys, hiding himself and concealing his form. He has expounded the teaching our forebears left behind, and, without stirring, has drawn to him men of the Way, who gather like clouds on the immortals’ path, beyond all counting. We have learned that since the wars began the Master still lives hidden in his old haunts in Shandong, and Our heart longs for him without end.”

The scholar paused here, raised his head and asked, “Is that long enough?”

Genghis Khan laughed. “A great chunk like that? That’s long enough. Now write that I am sending the high Han official Liu Zhonglu⁴ to go and fetch him, and that he must certainly come.”

The scholar continued:

“Has the Master not heard of the same chariot upon the Wei River, and the three visits to the thatched cottage? Alas, mountains and plains lie vast between us, and we have forfeited the courtesy of a personal welcome. We stand aside from our throne, fasting and bathing in purification, and have chosen our near attendant Liu Zhonglu to prepare light riders and an unadorned carriage. Let him traverse a thousand li without counting it far, and extend a solemn invitation that the Master temporarily bend his immortal steps towards us. Let him not regard the desert’s remoteness, but come either to weigh upon the affairs of this troubled age, or to instruct us in the art of preserving the body. We ourselves shall attend upon the Master’s seat, and we pray that, amid the leisure of your coughing and speaking, you deign to grant but a single word, and that will suffice. Herein we set forth, in the briefest expression of our meaning, the substance of this edict, and we sincerely hope that the Master, having embraced the great end of the Way and knowing that no good call shall go unanswered, will not turn aside from the wish of all living beings. Accordingly we issue this decree, that the Master may be fully informed.”

Genghis Khan said, “Good. That will do.” He rewarded the scholar with five liang⁵ of gold, and had Guo Jing write a personal letter beseeching Qiu Chuji to set out at once. The very same day Liu Zhonglu was dispatched with the edict southward.

(Note: The edict with which Genghis Khan summoned Qiu Chuji is based on the text recorded in the historical chronicles.)

The following day Genghis Khan held a great assembly of all his generals to plan the western campaign. At the assembly he conferred upon Guo Jing the title of Noyan,⁶ commanding him to lead a tumen.⁷ Noyan is the highest office in the Mongol hierarchy, granted only to kinsmen and great commanders.

By this time Guo Jing’s martial arts had greatly advanced, but when it came to marching and fighting battles, he knew nothing at all. He could only seek instruction from his sworn brother Tolui, and from generals such as Jebe,⁸ Subutai,⁹ and Boroqul.¹⁰ But he had never been quick-witted, and the art of war is endlessly changeable. How could he learn it all in a moment?

He watched the generals mustering soldiers and provisioning grain, selecting horses and choosing weapons, each one busy. A hundred and fifty thousand men were to march west, far into bitter, barren lands, and the planning for it was no small matter. Of such matters he understood nothing, and could only order his ten mingghan-commanders¹¹ to handle affairs each in his own charge. Jebe and Tolui gave him guidance and instruction from time to time.

Over a month passed, and the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he grew. He knew himself clumsy at stratagem and counsel. Against an enemy host of a million, the Eighteen Palms of Dragon Subduing and the Nine Yin Manual were of no use at all. A single bad order and the army would be routed and wiped out. Not only would Genghis Khan’s prestige suffer, but ten thousand men’s lives would be thrown away for nothing.

One day he was just thinking of going to the Great Khan to resign his commission, content to be a common soldier and, when they met the enemy, simply to charge alone into their ranks and cut down their generals, when one of his bodyguards reported that over a thousand Han men were outside the tent, asking to see him.

Guo Jing was overjoyed and thought, How quickly Daoist Elder Qiu has come. He hurried out to welcome them, only to find a crowd standing on the grassland, all dressed as beggars, and he was taken aback. Three men hurried forward and bowed low. They were Lu Youjiao¹² and the two Elders Jian¹³ and Liang¹⁴ of the Beggars’ Guild.

Guo Jing asked at once, “Have you news of Miss Huang Rong?”

Lu Youjiao said, “These lowly ones have searched everywhere, but have had no word of our Guild Chief. Hearing that you, sir, were leading an army west, we came to offer what aid we could.”

Guo Jing was much surprised. “How did you learn of this?”

Lu Youjiao said, “The Great Khan sent men to summon Daoist Elder Qiu Chuji. Our Guild learned of your whereabouts from the Quanzhen Order.”

Guo Jing stood dazed for a long while, gazing at the white clouds drifting in the southern sky. He thought, The Beggars’ Guild has members spread across all the world. If even they do not know where Rong-er is, I fear it bodes more ill than good. At the thought his eyes reddened.

He ordered his bodyguards to settle the Guild members, then went himself to report to the Great Khan.

Genghis Khan said, “Very well. Enrol them all under your command.”

When Guo Jing raised the matter of resigning his commission, Genghis Khan said angrily, “Who is born knowing how to fight? You don’t know how? Fight a few battles and you’ll learn. You grew up at my side from when you were small. What is there to fear in leading troops? Would the son-in-law of Genghis Khan not know how to fight?”

Guo Jing dared say no more. He returned to his tent, fretting. Lu Youjiao, learning of the matter, offered a few words of comfort.

At dusk Lu Youjiao entered the tent and said, “Had I known this was coming, I would have brought a copy of Master Sun’s Art of War¹⁵ from the south, or perhaps the Six Secret Teachings of Tai Gong.¹⁶ That would have been just the thing.”

This reminded Guo Jing, and he suddenly remembered that he had on him Wumu’s Art of War,¹⁷ the book entitled Essentials for Defeating the Jin. It was a book of the essentials of war. How could he have forgotten it? He took it at once from his travelling bag, trimmed the lamp, and read through the night, not stopping until midday the following day, when at last a faint weariness overcame him.

The book treated in exhaustive detail every aspect of warfare: the laying of plans, the assessment of situations, attack and defence, the drilling of soldiers, the appointment of officers, the deployment of formations, open-field battle, and the principles of movement and rest, of safety and peril, of the orthodox and the unexpected. When Guo Jing had flipped through it hastily on a boat upon the Yuan River, he had paid no attention at all. Now, with its use urgent before him, every page seemed nothing but the most profound wisdom.

Where passages puzzled him, he would summon Lu Youjiao and ask his opinion. Lu Youjiao would say, “This lowly one does not see it just now. Let me go out and think it over.” He would step outside the tent for only a moment, then return and explain everything with perfect clarity. Guo Jing was delighted and continued to consult him. But, strange to say, Lu Youjiao could never answer to his face. Only when he went out and pondered for a while would his wits sharpen and the difficulty resolve itself.

At first Guo Jing thought nothing of it. But after several days the same thing happened every time, and he could not help but find it odd.

That evening Guo Jing pointed to a single character in the book and asked its meaning. Lu Youjiao said again that he could not recall and must go outside to think. Guo Jing thought to himself, If a passage puzzles you, you may take your time to think it through. But if you don’t know a character, surely you can’t come to know it just by thinking?

Though he held the rank of a great general, he was young after all, and still very much a boy at heart. The instant Lu Youjiao stepped out of the tent, Guo Jing crawled out from behind it and lay flat among the tall grass, determined to discover what trick was afoot.

He watched Lu Youjiao hurry into a small tent nearby. Before long he emerged again. Guo Jing scrambled back inside his own tent. Lu Youjiao followed in and said, “I have remembered it.” He then explained the character’s sound and meaning.

Guo Jing laughed. “Elder Lu, since you have another teacher, why not invite him to meet me?”

Lu Youjiao started. “No, I haven’t.”

Guo Jing took his hand and said, still smiling, “Let us go and have a look.” He pulled Lu Youjiao out of the tent and led him towards the small one.

Two members of the Beggars’ Guild stood guard before the little tent. Seeing Guo Jing approach, they both coughed at the same moment. Guo Jing heard the coughs, let go of Lu Youjiao at once, and dashed towards the small tent. He flung back the flap and saw the back of the tent swaying to and fro. Plainly someone had only just slipped out. Guo Jing lunged forward and tore open the back curtain. Nothing but tall grass stretched away, and not a soul in sight. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to make a sound.

He turned back to question Lu Youjiao, who said that the tent was his own quarters and that no one else was inside. Guo Jing could make nothing of it. He put his questions about Wumu’s Art of War to Lu Youjiao again, but the elder did not reply until the following day.

Guo Jing understood that whoever was in that tent bore him no ill will but simply did not wish to be seen. It must be some great master of the jianghu, and it would not do to force anyone against their wishes. So he put the thing out of his mind.

By night he studied the military treatise, and by day he drilled his soldiers according to its methods. The Mongol cavalry were accustomed to open-field warfare and unused to fighting in ordered formations, but their commander’s orders could not be disobeyed, and so they trained as instructed.

After another month Genghis Khan’s troops and provisions were all ready, and the tumen under Guo Jing’s command had thoroughly mastered all eight formations: Heaven Covering, Earth Bearing, Wind Raising, Cloud Descending, Dragon Flying, Tiger Wing, Bird Soaring and Serpent Coiling.¹⁸ These eight formations were originally devised by Zhuge Liang¹⁹ on ancient models, and when they passed into Yue Fei’s hands, he had added a number of further variations.

Footnotes

1. 箭筒卫士 — jiǎntóng wèishì. Literally quiver guard. A guardsman of the keshig, the Mongol khan’s bodyguard, named for the quiver he carried. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 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. ↩

3. 丘处机 — Qiū Chǔjī. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 刘仲禄 — Liú Zhònglù. A Han official in the service of Genghis Khan, who historically escorted Qiu Chuji on his long journey to the Khan’s camp. ↩

5. 两 — liǎng. A traditional unit of weight, one-sixteenth of a jin, and the unit in which silver was reckoned. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 那颜 — nàyán. A Mongol title meaning lord or noble, borne by great commanders. ↩

7. 万人队 — wànrén duì. Literally ten-thousand-man unit. The tumen, the largest standard formation of the Mongol army. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 哲别 — Zhébié. Literally spear and divine archer, in Mongolian. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 速不台 — Sùbùtái. ↩

10. 博尔忽 — Bó’ěrhū. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 千夫长 — qiānfūzhǎng. Literally chief of a thousand men. Commander of a Mongol unit of one thousand, the mingghan. ↩

12. 鲁有脚 — Lǔ Yǒujiǎo. His name meaning “has feet”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

13. 简长老 — Jiǎn Zhǎnglǎo. Literally Elder Jian. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

14. 梁长老 — Liáng Zhǎnglǎo. Literally Elder Liang. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 孙子兵法 — Sūnzǐ Bīngfǎ. Master Sun’s Art of War, the military treatise attributed to Sun Wu of the late Spring and Autumn period, one of the most influential works on strategy in East Asian history. ↩

16. 太公韬略 — Tàigōng Tāolüè. The Six Secret Teachings of Tai Gong, a military treatise attributed to Jiang Ziya, the legendary strategist who helped found the Zhou dynasty. Probably compiled in the Warring States period, it is one of the Seven Military Classics. ↩

17. 武穆遗书 — Wǔmù Yíshū. The military treatise left by Yue Fei (1103—1142), the Song general posthumously titled Wumu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

18. 八阵 — bā zhèn. The Eight Formations, attributed to Zhuge Liang (诸葛亮), the strategist of the Three Kingdoms period, for deploying troops on varied ground and against varied enemies. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

19. 诸葛亮 — Zhūgě Liàng (181—234). Chancellor and chief strategist of Shu Han in the Three Kingdoms period, known as the Crouching Dragon. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩