The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 5 – Part 3

Faced without warning by a formidable opponent, Guo Jing had opened with one of the subtle moves of the Tendon-Splitting Bone-Dislocating Hand.¹ He had drilled the art so thoroughly that, if practice could not make him inventive, it had at least made him fluent, which came to much the same thing. His opponent, wrist and elbow suddenly caught, struck out in alarm with his left palm, swift at Guo Jing’s face. Guo Jing’s hands were just about to shake and thrust and wrench the man’s wrist out of its joint, but the palm came at him so fast that, with both hands busy, he had no way to block it. He released his grip and leapt backwards, feeling the wind of the palm brush past his cheek, hot and stinging. As he turned, their places in moonlight and shadow were reversed, and he saw that his opponent was only a youth of seventeen or eighteen, with long brows, fine eyes and handsome, refined features. The youth said in a low voice, “Not bad. Ten years of teaching from the Six Xias of Jiangnan have not been wasted.”

Guo Jing guarded himself with one palm, poised and wary, and asked, “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

The youth cried, “Let’s go another round.” Before the words were out, he was upon him, palm first.

Guo Jing held still, every sense alert, and waited until the wind of the palm was at his chest before he shifted his body slightly aside. His left hand caught the youth’s arm while his right shot up to grip the youth’s cheek. Once his fingers closed upon the jaw and pulled sharply outward, the jaw would come out of its joint at once. Zhu Cong had given the move a comical name, Laughing Chin Loose,² meaning to laugh one’s jaw out of joint.

This time the youth was prepared. He withdrew his right palm at once and slashed horizontally with his left. Guo Jing answered with the Tendon-Splitting Bone-Dislocating Hand. In the twinkling of an eye they had traded a dozen or more moves. The young Daoist moved lightly and nimbly, his palm-work quick and free. This was the first real opponent Guo Jing had met since he began to learn, and a highly skilled one at that. After a short while his nerve began to fail, and then the youth’s left foot flew in with a crack and struck him full on the right hip. Fortunately his root-stance was solid, and the youth seemed not to have struck with his full force. Guo Jing staggered only slightly before recovering, both palms spinning out to guard his vital points. He fought defensively for several more exchanges, but the young Daoist pressed forward step by step, and Guo Jing saw that he could not hold out much longer.

Suddenly a voice shouted from behind him, “Attack his lower body!”

Guo Jing recognised Third Shifu Han Baoju’s voice at once, and his spirits soared. He dropped his body and darted to the right, then looked back. His six shifus had been standing behind him all along. He had been so intent on his opponent that he had never noticed them. His spirits leapt, and on Third Shifu’s advice he went hard for the Daoist’s lower body. The youth moved elusively, and his lower stance was indeed none too firm. The Six Eccentrics, seeing more clearly as onlookers, had long since spotted the weakness. Under Guo Jing’s flurry of attacks the Daoist fell back step after step. Guo Jing pressed his advantage, and then he saw his opponent stumble as though tripping over something on the ground. He launched Linked Mandarin Duck Kicks,³ both feet flying at once.

But the stumble was a ruse to draw him in. Han Baoju and Han Xiaoying cried out together, “Careful!”

But Guo Jing was short of experience, and did not know what care to take. His right foot had barely left the ground before the youth caught it. The young Daoist, using the momentum of Guo Jing’s own kick, waved his hand and sent him flying. Guo Jing lost all control of his body, somersaulted through the air, and landed on his back with a thump that hurt badly. He flipped himself upright at once with a carp’s leap and was about to rush back into the fight when he saw that his six shifus had already surrounded the young Daoist.

The Daoist neither defended nor made any move to break out. Instead he cupped his fists and said in a clear voice, “I am Yin Zhiping,⁴ a humble Daoist of the Quanzhen Order,⁵ sent by my revered shifu Changchunzi, Daoist Elder Qiu, to pay my respects to all the honoured shifus of Jiangnan.” With that he knelt and respectfully kowtowed.

The Six Eccentrics, hearing that this youth had been sent by Qiu Chuji, were all surprised. But fearing a trick, none of them reached out to help him up.

Yin Zhiping rose and drew a letter from his robe, holding it out with both hands to Zhu Cong.

Ke Zhen’e heard the Mongol patrol drawing nearer and said, “Let us go inside to talk.” Yin Zhiping followed the Six Eccentrics into the yurt. Quan Jinfa lit the mutton-fat candle.⁶ The yurt was the shared quarters of the five men. Han Xiaoying lived apart with unmarried Mongol women. Yin Zhiping saw that the furnishings within were spare and simple, and guessed how hard and frugal the Six Eccentrics’ life must be. He bowed and said, “Seniors, you have laboured all these years. My shifu is grateful beyond words, and has sent me ahead to thank you all.”

Ke Zhen’e snorted, thinking to himself, If you come in good faith, why did you first send Jing-er head over heels? Is that not to cow us before the contest has even begun?

By then Zhu Cong had opened the envelope, drawn out the letter and begun to read it aloud.

“Your humble disciple Qiu Chuji of the Quanzhen Order, with washed hands and bowed head, respectfully addresses the Six Xias of Jiangnan, Master Ke, Master Zhu, Master Han, Master Nan, Master Quan and Han nüxia:⁷

“Since we parted in Jiangnan, sixteen years have passed in a breath. The Seven Xias gave a single promise worth a thousand pieces of gold and crossed ten thousand li of hard roads to keep it. Your high-minded righteousness is admired by all within the four seas. Those who know you and those who do not alike clap their hands and say, ‘We did not expect to see the spirit of the ancient xia revived in our own day.’”

At this, Ke Zhen’e’s knitted brows eased a little. Zhu Cong read on.

“That Master Zhang should have passed away in the northern desert is a grief to make one wring one’s wrists and sigh long. It weighs on my heart, and not a day goes by that I forget it. Thanks to the good fortune of you xia, this humble Daoist has been lucky enough not to fail in the charge. The heir of Master Yang was found nine years ago.”

The five men cried out in unison at this. They had long known Qiu Chuji’s capabilities, and that his disciples in the Quanzhen Order were scattered across all the world. They had always expected that Yang Tiexin’s child would be found, and so the pledge at Jiaxing had never left their thoughts, not for a single day. Yet to track down the posthumous child of a woman whose whereabouts were unknown was, after all, a slender hope. Whether the child was boy or girl depended entirely on Heaven’s will. If it were a daughter, her martial arts would be limited no matter what. Now, hearing from the letter that a boy had been found, each of them felt a jolt at heart.

All this time they had not told Guo Jing and his mother a word of the wager. Seeing that Guo Jing showed no change of expression, Zhu Cong read on.

“Two years from now, when the flowers are in bloom and the grass grows long in Jiangnan, I shall set out wine and meet you all at the Drunken Immortal Wineshop.⁸ Life is like the dew, and this great dream has lasted eighteen years. Will the men of valour of the world not laugh at our folly?”

At this he stopped.

Han Baoju said, “What does the rest say?”

Zhu Cong said, “The letter ends here. It is certainly his handwriting.” On the day of the contest at the wineshop, Zhu Cong had picked a sheet of verse from Qiu Chuji’s pocket, and so he knew the hand.

Ke Zhen’e mused, “The Yang child is a boy? He is called Yang Kang?”

Yin Zhiping said, “Yes.”

Ke Zhen’e said, “Then he is your shidi?”

Yin Zhiping said, “He is my shixiong. Though I am one year his senior, Yang shixiong entered the shimen two years before me.”

The Six Eccentrics had seen the youth’s martial arts, and Guo Jing was no match for him. If his shidi was already so accomplished, then his shixiong must be still more formidable. At the thought their hearts sank. Moreover, Qiu Chuji knew every move they had made and had already learned of Zhang Asheng’s death. They felt themselves wholly outmatched.

Ke Zhen’e said coldly, “So when you fought him just now, you were testing his skill?”

Yin Zhiping, alarmed by the harshness of his tone, said hastily, “I would not dare!”

Ke Zhen’e said, “Go tell your shifu that though the Six Eccentrics of Jiangnan are not much, we will not break our pledge at the Drunken Immortal Wineshop. Tell your shifu to set his mind at ease. We shan’t be writing a reply!”

Yin Zhiping, hearing these words, could neither agree nor disagree, and was thoroughly embarrassed. He had been sent north by his shifu to deliver the letter, and Qiu Chuji had indeed asked him to look into Guo Jing’s character and martial arts. Changchunzi cared for his old friend’s son, and his motives were entirely kind. But Yin Zhiping, young and meddlesome, had not called on the Six Eccentrics as soon as he reached the Onon River in Mongolia. Instead he had come in the middle of the night to trade blows with Guo Jing and test his skill for himself. Now, seeing the Six Eccentrics’ black looks, he grew afraid. He dared not linger, bowed to them all, and said, “I take my leave.”

Ke Zhen’e saw him to the mouth of the yurt, and Yin Zhiping bowed once more. Ke Zhen’e said harshly, “You can take a tumble too!” His left hand shot out and seized the front of the youth’s robe.

Yin Zhiping was horrified. He flung both hands up with all his might to ward off Ke Zhen’e’s arm, meaning to push it aside. But had he not resisted, he would merely have been thrown to the ground. Now, by striking back, he roused Ke Zhen’e’s anger all the more. Ke Zhen’e thrust his left arm upwards and lifted Yin Zhiping clean off his feet, then, driving out his breath with a loud “Hah”, slammed the little Daoist down hard. Yin Zhiping’s back hurt as if it had split, and it was some time before he could struggle slowly to his feet. He said not a word, but limped away.

Han Baoju said, “The little Daoist was impertinent. Big Brother taught him a lesson, and rightly so.”

Ke Zhen’e made no reply. After a long silence he heaved a sigh. The five shared the same thought, and all were sombre.

Nan Xiren said suddenly, “Can’t win, still fight!”

Han Xiaoying said, “Fourth Brother is right. Since the seven of us swore brotherhood and took to the jianghu together, we’ve been through more dangers than I can count, and the Seven Eccentrics of Jiangnan have never once backed down.”

Ke Zhen’e nodded and said to Guo Jing, “Go to bed. Tomorrow we’ll push even harder.”

From that day on the Six Eccentrics redoubled the strictness of their teaching. Yet in any art, whether books or martial arts, or even the qin and weiqi, one who craves quick results and strains with all his might will sometimes only stick fast and make no progress at all. The Six Eccentrics were desperate for their disciple to succeed and drove him extremely hard, and Guo Jing was no clever, quick-witted youth. He was, in truth, rather slower than most, and the fright only flustered him further. In the three months since the little Daoist Yin Zhiping’s night visit he had made hardly any progress. If anything he seemed to have gone backwards, just as the sayings have it, “More haste, less speed,” and “Bite off too much and you cannot chew it.”

Each of the Six Eccentrics possessed a formidable art, and each had won it through long years of bitter labour. To expect Guo Jing to comprehend and master all of them within a few years would have been hard even for a man of the sharpest genius, let alone one who fell short of middling wit. The Six Eccentrics knew well enough that with Guo Jing’s talents, he could at best train under Han Baoju or Nan Xiren alone, and after twenty or thirty years of hard effort might reach half their accomplishment. Had Zhang Asheng lived, Guo Jing would have been best suited to his plain, rugged style. But the Six were set upon surpassing Qiu Chuji, and though they knew full well the truth of the maxim “To learn from many masters is not as good as to master one art”, they could not bear to keep all their martial arts to themselves and stand idly by, passing none of it on to their dim-witted disciple.

Through all those sixteen years, Zhu Cong never ceased to recall the scenes at the Drunken Immortal Wineshop and Fahua Monastery, the exchanges Qiu Chuji had traded with them. Every move, every posture was fixed in his mind more vividly than when he had first seen them. But to find in Qiu Chuji’s martial arts any flaw or opening he could exploit was beyond him. At times he would even think, Only the Copper Corpse and the Iron Corpse might beat that ox-nosed Daoist.⁹

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One morning, Han Xiaoying taught him two moves from the Yue Maiden Swordplay. The move “Branch Strikes the White Ape” required him to leap into the air, trace two flat circles with the jian, and then sweep downward on the return. Guo Jing had spent so long on his stance work that his leaps lacked lightness. He could turn only one and a half flat circles in the air before he came down. He tried seven or eight times, and each time fell short by half a circle.

Han Xiaoying felt a fire rise in her breast. She forced down her temper and showed him how to drive power through the tip of the foot, how to coil strength through waist and leg together. But once his leap was high enough, he forgot to turn the flat circles with his jian, and it went the same way several times running.

Han Xiaoying thought of the six of them, who had endured more than ten years in this harsh northern desert for his sake. Fifth Brother Zhang Asheng lay buried in foreign soil. And after all their teaching, all their labour, they had produced nothing but such a blockhead. Fifth Brother’s life, the long years of toil the six of them had given, all of it thrown away for nothing. Grief welled up in her, and tears spilled from her eyes. She flung her jian to the ground, covered her face with her hands, and walked away.

Guo Jing ran a few steps after her but could not catch her. He stood rooted to the spot, utterly wretched. He felt his debt to his shifus to be as great as a mountain, and wanted only to succeed in his training and comfort their hearts. But however hard he trained, he could not get it right, and he did not know what to do.

He was standing there in a daze when he heard Huazheng’s voice calling from behind, “Guo Jing, come quick, come quick!”

Guo Jing turned. She sat on a dapple-grey horse,¹⁰ her face full of anxiety and excitement.

“What is it?” Guo Jing asked.

Huazheng said, “Come and see, lots of big eagles are fighting.”

Guo Jing said, “I’m practising my martial arts.”

Huazheng laughed. “You didn’t do well, and your shifu scolded you again, is that it?”

Guo Jing nodded.

Huazheng said, “Those eagles are fighting like anything. Go and see, quick.”

The boy in Guo Jing stirred, eager to go. But then he remembered his Seventh Shifu’s face a moment before, and said dejectedly, “I’m not going.”

Huazheng cried, “I didn’t even watch it myself. I came rushing to fetch you. If you won’t come, don’t ever speak to me again!”

Guo Jing said, “You go and watch. You can tell me about it later. It’s the same thing.”

Huazheng jumped down from her horse, thrust out her lower lip, and said, “If you won’t go, I won’t go either. Who knows whether the black eagles will win, or the white ones?”

Guo Jing said, “Is it that pair of big white eagles on the cliff, in a fight?”

Huazheng said, “Yes, there are lots of black eagles, but the white ones are fearsome, they’ve already pecked three or four of the black ones to death…”

Footnotes

1. 分筋错骨手 — Fēnjīn Cuògǔ Shǒu. A method of seizing the joints and wrenching them out of place. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 笑语解颐 — Xiàoyǔ Jiě Yí. Literally laughing talk loosens the jaw. 解颐, to loosen the jaw, is a classical idiom for making someone laugh. ↩

3. 连环鸳鸯腿 — Liánhuán Yuānyāng Tuǐ. Literally linked mandarin-duck legs. Mandarin ducks always go in pairs, and the kicks are thrown in pairs. ↩

4. 尹志平 — Yǐn Zhìpíng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 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. ↩

6. 羊脂蜡烛 — yángzhī làzhú. Literally mutton-fat candle. A candle made from mutton fat. ↩

7. 韩女侠 — Hán Nǚxiá. Literally Han the nüxia. ↩

8. 醉仙楼 — Zuìxiān Lóu. The Drunken Immortal Wineshop, on the shore of South Lake in Jiaxing. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 铜尸铁尸 — Tóngshī Tiěshī. Literally copper corpse, iron corpse. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 青骢马 — qīngcōngmǎ. A dapple-grey horse, its coat mottled blue-grey and white. ↩