The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 6 – Part 6

Jochi,¹ Temüjin’s eldest son, loosed an arrow straight at him with a whizz. A man sprang out from Wanyan Honglie’s side and plucked the arrow from the air with one hand, astonishingly quick and nimble. Wanyan Honglie shouted, “Go and seize Temüjin.” Four men answered and came bounding up the mound.

Guo Jing was startled to see that all four were using qinggong.² They were trained martial artists, not ordinary soldiers. As the four raced halfway up the slope, Jebe³ and Bo’orchu⁴ sent arrows down in rapid succession, but every one was turned aside by the soft shields they held up.

Guo Jing thought in alarm, We have great generals and brave warriors here, but they’re no match for masters of the wulin.⁵ What are we to do?

A middle-aged man in black came leaping up the mound, and Ögedei⁶ blocked his way with his dao raised. The man flung up a hand, a sleeve-arrow struck Ögedei on the wrist, and at once the man raised his dao and cut down. Suddenly steel flashed white and a jian thrust in from the side, straight at his wrist, fierce and true. Startled, the man flipped his wrist away and fell back three steps, and saw a thick-browed, wide-eyed youth standing jian in hand before Ögedei. He had never expected anyone among Temüjin’s people to be so skilled with the jian. “Who are you?” he barked. “Give me your name.” He spoke the Han tongue.

Guo Jing said, “My name is Guo Jing.”

The man said, “Never heard of you! Surrender, quick.”

Guo Jing glanced around and saw that the other three had also reached the top and were locked in close combat with Tchila’un,⁷ Boroqul⁸ and the others, blades flashing in brutal hand-to-hand fighting. At once he thrust his jian at the man with the dao. The man knocked it aside with a sweep of his dao, a thick dao driven with great strength, and the two of them closed.

Senggum’s⁹ men were about to follow them up when Muqali¹⁰ laid his dao against Tusakha’s¹¹ neck and roared, “Anyone who dares come up, this dao comes down!” Senggum, sick with worry, said to Wanyan Honglie, “Sixth Prince, call them down and let’s think of something else! Don’t let my boy be hurt.”

Wanyan Honglie smiled. “Do not worry. The boy will not come to harm.” He intended for Temüjin to kill Tusakha, so that the two Mongol tribes would be bound by a blood feud from which there was no return.

Senggum’s men dared not go up the mound, but Wanyan Honglie’s four were already fighting furiously on top of it, with a great clashing of steel.

Guo Jing unleashed the Yue Maiden Swordplay¹² taught by Han Xiaoying.¹³ His jian moving light and nimble, he fought the man with the dao. Within a few moves he had met danger after danger, for the man’s dao was thick and his strength great, every stroke charged with hidden internal force, and he was no common fighter.

Guo Jing’s jian shimmered, casting gleams of greenish light. The point darted and slashed around the man’s body, each stroke aimed at a vital spot. His relentless assault threw the dao-wielder into a flurry of defence. By now the man’s three companions had felled four or five of Temüjin’s officers. Seeing him getting the worst of it, one of them sprang up with a long spear, crying, “Eldest Shige,¹⁴ I’ll help you.”

But how could the man with the dao own himself beaten by a mere youth, in front of whole armies and with every eye upon him? How could he let his shidi come to his aid? “Stand aside,” he barked, “and watch what your eldest shixiong¹⁵ can do.”

Guo Jing seized the moment of his distraction. He dropped his left knee, bent his elbow and raised his arm, and with a swish the point of his jian flashed upward in the move Rising Phoenix, Soaring Jiao. The man leapt back, but the blade slit open his left sleeve.

He sprang clear and demanded, “Whose disciple are you? Why have you come here to throw your life away?”

Guo Jing held his jian crosswise and made the jian-hand sign, and, copying the jianghu manner his shifus had taught him, said, “This disciple is of the school of the Seven Xias of Jiangnan. May I ask the four of you your great surnames and honoured names?” He had learned these words long before, and this was the first time he had ever said them to anyone. In such danger he had not forgotten them, only got “honoured surnames and great names” back to front.

The dao-wielder glanced at his three shidis, then turned back. “Our names would mean nothing to a youngster like you, I’m sure. Have at you!” He swung his dao down in a slanting cut.

In the fighting so far Guo Jing had already learned that the man’s neili¹⁶ was greater than his own and that he was no match for him. But placed as he was he could not shrink back, and knowing himself outmatched he could only fight with all the stubborn courage he had. Still, the jian art his Seventh Shifu had taught him was wonderfully subtle, and its keenest strokes made even this enemy wary. Guo Jing pressed the attack, refusing to yield ground. The man with the dao used Probing the Sea to Slay the Jiao, turning his dao and stabbing down at Guo Jing’s legs. The two re-engaged, and in the blink of an eye they had exchanged twenty or thirty more moves.

By now the tens of thousands of officers and men below the mound, and Temüjin and his people and the three attackers on it, were all watching intently without a blink. Unable to finish the fight, the man with the dao grew impatient and his strokes ever more vicious. Suddenly he swung his dao level in a savage cut at Guo Jing’s waist.

Guo Jing twisted round in Turning to Reach for the Fruit and swept his jian up at the man’s arm. The man drove his cut on with all his strength, and the edge of his dao was all but at Guo Jing’s waist. But Guo Jing’s neigong¹⁷ had taken root. His lower body did not stir, and his upper body did not dodge. He simply shifted his waist half a foot to the left, and in that instant thrust his jian forward, the point piercing the man’s chest.

The man gave a wild cry, let go of his dao and struck out with his palm with all his might, knocking Guo Jing’s jian to the ground, so that it went only half an inch into his chest and he escaped with his life. But his palm had been cut on the blade and was streaming with blood, and he hastily snatched up the jian and leapt clear.

Guo Jing snatched up the man’s fallen dao. Wind sounded behind him. Without turning, he kicked backwards with his left leg, deflecting the thrusting spear-shaft, and then swung the dao at its wielder. The spearman, the second of the four, drew his spear back, but Guo Jing stepped in and brought the dao down after it. The man flicked his spear aside to dodge, then thrust it straight at Guo Jing’s chest, and Guo Jing used Step Forward, Lift the Basket, batting the spear aside with his left palm. The instant his palm touched the spear-shaft, he felt the man’s withdrawal was sluggish. His palm flipped and closed around the shaft, and with his right hand he slid the dao down the spear towards the man’s hands. The spearman wrenched and tugged, but suddenly saw the blade-edge less than half a foot from his forward hand. He released the spear at once and retreated.

Guo Jing’s spirits leapt. With a mighty swing of his right arm he hurled the dao far down the mound and stood with the spear levelled. The fourth of them gave a great roar and came rolling in with twin axes low along the ground. Guo Jing had learned the spear from his Sixth Shifu. After a few exchanges he suddenly left a deliberate opening. The axe-man was delighted and, with a fierce shout, brought both axes hacking straight down. Suddenly he felt a searing pain in his belly. Guo Jing’s kick had caught him square, and his body flew backwards. His left arm could not check its own momentum in time, and the axe swept in an arc straight towards his own head.

Their third shixiong rushed in and blocked the axe hard with his iron whip. There was a clang and a shower of sparks, the axe flew from the man’s hand and he fell down sitting. He had escaped with his life, but his face was the colour of earth. He was a blunt fellow, and only when he had collected himself did he realise he had lost. Enraged, he bellowed, snatched up his axe, and charged again. After several exchanges he chopped Guo Jing’s spear in two. With no weapon left, Guo Jing set his palms apart and fought him with the art of bare hands against naked blades. The third shixiong came at him from the other side with his iron whip. Guo Jing’s situation was desperate. He could only fight on with brute stubbornness.

The Mongol troops below the mound suddenly erupted in a great clamour of shouts and curses. The Mongols were plain and honest by nature, and they honoured heroes and brave men. Seeing these four use a rotating attack against Guo Jing alone had already angered them. To see two of them attack an unarmed man with weapons was no deed for a true man. They bellowed at the pair to stop, and even though Guo Jing was their enemy, they cheered him on.

Boroqul and Jebe drew their long daos and plunged into the fight. The two attackers who had been watching also stepped in. In pitched battle these two famous Mongol generals could cut down commanders and seize flags, their courage beyond compare. But the nimble footwork of close combat and the scrambling, hacking infighting was not their strength. Relying on their size and raw power, they held out for some dozens of moves before their weapons were finally knocked from their hands. Guo Jing, seeing Boroqul in danger, leapt over and struck with his palm at the back of the eldest, the man with the dao. The man swung his dao back at his wrist, but Guo Jing’s arm suddenly drew in and he drove his elbow into the second brother, saving Jebe from danger.

The four men were resolved to kill Guo Jing first. They surrounded him. The Mongol officers and men on the mound and below it shouted and cursed louder than ever, but the four paid no heed. The spearman picked up a long lance from the ground, and dao, spear, whip and axe all bore down on Guo Jing at once. Weaponless and outnumbered by four skilled fighters, how could he hold out? He could only fall back on his qinggong and dart in and out between their weapons.

After twenty-odd exchanges the four pressed their attack, and Guo Jing took a dao-cut on his arm. Blood streamed down. The situation grew dire. Then suddenly, from among the troops below, six people came threading this way and that through the ranks and running up the mound. Senggum’s and Jamukha’s¹⁸ men assumed they were Wanyan Honglie’s fighters coming to surround Guo Jing once more, and cursed loudly.

The defenders on the mound were about to shoot them down when Jebe, sharp-eyed, saw that it was Guo Jing’s shifus, the Six Eccentrics of Jiangnan. “Jing-er,” he shouted, “your shifus are here!”

Guo Jing had been so exhausted his head was spinning and his vision blurred. At those words his spirit surged anew.

Zhu Cong¹⁹ and Quan Jinfa²⁰ were the first up. They saw Guo Jing, unarmed and surrounded by four attackers, in mortal danger. Quan Jinfa leapt forward and his scale-beam staff swept out, deflecting all four weapons at once. “Have you no shame?” he barked. The four men’s arms jarred simultaneously. They felt this enemy’s neili was far beyond the youth’s, and sprang back at once.

The dao-wielder, their eldest shixiong, saw that the balance of numbers had suddenly turned against them. To fight on was certain defeat, but if they fled down the mound, what face would they have left, and how could they stay on in the Sixth Prince’s household? He steeled himself and asked, “Are you six the Six Eccentrics of Jiangnan?”

Zhu Cong grinned. “Indeed. And who might you four be?”

The man said, “We are disciples of the Dragon King of Devil’s Gate.”

Ke Zhen’e²¹ and the others had supposed that men who would gang up on Guo Jing must be nobodies. Hearing that their shifu was the famous Dragon King of Devil’s Gate, Sha Tongtian,²² they were all startled.

Ke Zhen’e said coldly, “Borrowing a name you have no right to? The Dragon King of Devil’s Gate is a figure of consequence. His school has no place for useless specimens like you!”

The axe-man rubbed his belly where Guo Jing had kicked him and said angrily, “Who is pretending? He is our eldest shixiong, Shen Qinggang,²³ the Soul-Severing Dao. This is our second shixiong Wu Qinglie,²⁴ the Life-Chasing Spear. That is our third shixiong Ma Qingxiong,²⁵ the Soul-Devouring Whip. I am Qian Qingjian,²⁶ the Mourning Gate Axe.”

Ke Zhen’e said, “That sounds genuine enough, so you must be the Four Ghosts of the Yellow River.²⁷ You are not unknown in the jianghu. Why have you stooped so low as to fight my disciple four against one?”

Wu Qinglie twisted logic and said, “What do you mean, four against one? Are there not hundreds of Mongols helping him besides? We four are fighting several hundred of them.”

Qian Qingjian asked Ma Qingxiong, “Third Shige, this blind fellow struts about most grandly. What sort of creature is he?”

The words were spoken softly, but Ke Zhen’e heard them. His fury blazed. He planted his iron staff on the ground and vaulted to Qian Qingjian’s side, seized him by the back of his tunic with his left hand, lifted him off his feet, and hurled him down the mound. The three remaining ghosts started and moved to attack, but Ke Zhen’e moved like the wind. Three grabs, three throws, and before anyone could see how he had done it, all three had been hurled down the mound. The Mongol officers and men on the mound and below it roared their delight.

The Four Ghosts of the Yellow River were covered head and face in dust and sand. Fortunately the ground was sand and no bones were broken, but they ached in every limb. Burning with shame, they struggled to their feet.

At that moment, a great cloud of dust rose in the distance, as if tens of thousands of horse and foot were charging towards them. Senggum’s ranks began to waver.

Temüjin, seeing reinforcements arriving, was elated. He knew that Jamukha ran his troops with strict discipline and was a general of real ability. His soldiers were elite. Senggum, by contrast, relied only on his father’s shadow, incompetent and dull. Temüjin pointed at Senggum’s left flank and bellowed, “Charge there!” Jebe, Bo’orchu, Jochi and Chagatai²⁸ led the charge. The distant reinforcements joined in with a great war-cry. Muqali cradled Tusakha in his arms, pressing his dao against the boy’s neck, and bellowed, “Make way, make way!”

Senggum saw the charge and tried to marshal his men to intercept, but seeing Tusakha in such a state he froze, unable to decide what to do. In the blink of an eye Temüjin and his men were upon them. Jebe aimed at Senggum’s head and let fly. Senggum saw the arrow arriving and tried to dodge, but it struck him full in the right cheek and knocked him from his horse. His soldiers saw their commander fall and broke in panic.

Temüjin burst through their lines. Several thousand troops pursued with shouts, but Jebe, Bo’orchu, Guo Jing and the others sent a volley of arrows behind them to cover the retreat. They fought as they went, and after several li²⁹ the dust rose ahead and Tolui arrived with his forces. Wang Khan’s and Jamukha’s men had always held Temüjin in awe. They had pressed their advantage while his numbers were few, but now that a great relief force had arrived, they wheeled their horses and withdrew.

It turned out that Temüjin had set out with his three elder sons, leaving his youngest, Tolui, to guard the home camp. Tolui was young and had no token of command from Temüjin. The tribal elders and veteran captains would not take his orders, so he could only bring several thousand young soldiers and riders. Tolui was resourceful. Seeing the enemy vastly outnumbered them, he ordered branches tied to every horse’s tail. From a distance the dust cloud made it impossible to guess how many thousands were coming.

Temüjin marched his forces back to the main camp. On the way they met Huazheng³⁰ leading a small detachment of reinforcements.

That evening Temüjin held a great feast to reward his warriors, but he placed Tusakha in the seat of honour. The others saw this and were filled with resentment.

Footnotes

1. 朮赤 — Shùchì. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

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

4. 博尔朮 — Bó’ěrshù. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 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. ↩

6. 窝阔台 — Wōkuòtái. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 赤老温 — Chìlǎowēn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 博尔忽 — Bó’ěrhū. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 桑昆 — Sāngkūn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 木华黎 — Mùhuálí. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 都史 — Dūshǐ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 越女剑法 — Yuè Nǚ Jiànfǎ. Literally Yue maiden jian method, after the swordswoman of Yue in the Spring and Autumn Annals of Wu and Yue. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

13. 韩小莹 — Hán Xiǎoyíng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

14. 师哥 — shīgē. Male senior, the colloquial form of shixiong. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Gē means older brother. ↩

15. 师兄 — shīxiōng. Male senior. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Xiōng means older brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

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

18. 札木合 — Zhāmùhé. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

19. 朱聪 — Zhū Cōng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

20. 全金发 — Quán Jīnfā. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

21. 柯镇恶 — Kē Zhèn’è. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

22. 沙通天 — Shā Tōngtiān. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

23. 沈青刚 — Shěn Qīnggāng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

24. 吴青烈 — Wú Qīngliè. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

25. 马青雄 — Mǎ Qīngxióng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

26. 钱青健 — Qián Qīngjiàn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

27. 黄河四鬼 — Huánghé Sìguǐ. Literally four ghosts of the Yellow River. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

28. 察合台 — Cháhétái. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

30. 华筝 — Huázhēng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩