Exhausted from travels.
Yang Guo had dashed forward only two steps when suddenly a gust of wind brushed over his head, a person darted past and stood between him and the five clowns and laughed, “That was a great slumber!” It was the ‘Nine-Fingered Wondrous Beggar’ Hong Qigong. Yang Guo was delighted while the five clowns were startled and shocked. When Hong Qigong first lay down on the snow he really was sleeping, but woke up when the fifth clown stepped on him. He wanted to test the young man and see whether he could keep his promise of guarding him for three days. Every time Yang Guo checked his breathing, he would stop breathing and pretended to be dead. Now he was standing at the mouth of the path with an awe-inspiring air. His left hand made a semi-circle, his right hand pushed out a palm; it was his life’s proudest work, the stance of “Overcoming the Dragon with Regret” from the “Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms”. The first clown couldn’t avoid it; he knew he couldn’t meet this stance head on but all he could do was to push his palms out and use his strength to fend off the attack.
Hong Qigong was keeping his palm’s power in check; he only used ten percent of his internal energy but the first clown felt his arms go numb and his chest ache. The second clown saw that he was in danger; he was afraid that Hong Qigong’s palms will force him into the deep valley so he quickly stretched out his hand and pushed the first clown’s back. Hong Qigong’s palm power increased; the second clown moved back, almost slipping down into the deep valley. The fourth clown was standing behind them and stretched out his arm to support them. Hong Qigong’s palms power spread through them, it spread towards the fourth clown who in turn passed it onto the third clown and the third clown spread it towards the final one in the line, the fifth clown. The clowns had nowhere to hide and nowhere to run; in the blink of an eye, they were defeated by Hong Qigong’s single palm.
Hong Qigong laughed, “You five scoundrels are evil and wicked you should be able to die without complaint under the single palm of the Old Beggar.”
The five of them positioned themselves into the mount posture; they flared up their chi and united their internal energy to resist the single palm but they felt the force of the palm getting heavier. Their chests felt tighter and gradually it was becoming more difficult to breathe.
Hong Qigong suddenly gave out a ‘yi’ call showing his surprise. He took back eighty percent of his palm’s power and said, “Your internal energy has its good points, who is your master?”
The first clown still had his two palms pushing out against him; he struggled for breath as he said, “We are… are under the tutelage of Master Da’erba.”
Hong Qigong shook his head and said, “Da’erba? I haven’t heard of him. Hmm, your internal energy can be spread mutually to each other, this kung fu is terrific.”
Yang Guo thought, “To get Hong Qigong to say ‘terrific’, then it really must be terrific. Yet when I looked at their skills I thought they were very ordinary and none of them can beat me.”
Hong Qigong asked, “What’s your sect?”
The first clown said, “Our master is… is the second… second disciple of Western Tibet’s Holy…Holy Monk Jinlun Fawang.”
Hong Qigong shook his head again, and said, “Western Tibet’s Holy Monk, Jinlun Fawang? I’ve never heard of him. Western Tibet has a monk, his name is Reverend Lingzhi, he I have seen; his kung fu is stronger than yours but his skills aren’t advanced. Your kung fu is good; hmm, it makes sense. Go and get your Grand Master here to fight with me.”
The first monk replied, “Our Grand Master is a holy monk, the living Buddha, Mongolia’s number one martial artist, all knowing and all powerful. How…how…”
The second clown noticed from Hong Qigong’s tone that he was going to spare them, but with the way that the first clown was replying they were cutting off their escape route so he quickly interrupted and said, “Yes, yes. We’ll quickly go and get our Grand Master here to duel with Hong Qigong. Only our Grand Master can fight with senior Hong. We juniors will raise our wine gourds and… and…”
As he said this, there came a ‘duo’ ‘duo’ ‘duo’ sound; a person appeared from around the corner of the mountain. His body was upside down, each hand holding a piece of rock, walking with his palms, it was Western Poison Ouyang Feng.
Yang Guo’s voice cracked as he called out, “Father!”
Ouyang Feng did not bother to find out what was happening and leapt behind the five clowns and stretched out his right foot and placed it on their backs; a strong energy rushed through the five clowns.
Hong Qigong was shocked with the sudden appearance of Ouyang Feng; he heard Yang Guo call him ‘Father’ and understood that he was his son; no wonder he was so good. He felt his arm sink as the opponent’s internal energy reached him; he quickly increased his strength and returned the attack.
Since the second Mount Hua competition, Hong Qigong had not seen Ouyang Feng for over ten years. Although Ouyang Feng’s mind was unclear, he practiced the Contrary Nine Yin Manual”; the more he practiced the stranger his kung fu became, and the stranger it became the more powerful he became.
Guo Jing and Huang Rong had recited a small portion of the manual to Hong Qigong; it made an impression on his kung fu and great progress in his martial arts. The final stage of the “Nine Yin Manual” is superior to the “Contrary Nine Yin Manual”, although Hong Qigong only knew a little; he wasn’t inferior to Ouyang Feng.
Tens of years ago it was difficult to separate the two, since then they had both met new boundaries. Today they came across each other on Mount Hua for the third time, once internal energy went out; it was indeed hard to differentiate between the two.
The ones that were to be pitied are the Five Clowns of the Tibetan Border; being sandwiched between two of the world’s most powerful fighters, they became the apparatus for kung fu practice. A sandbag for punches and kicks, they were cold for a while, then hot for a while, their breathing was tight and then slow, the bones all over their body made ‘ka la’ noises; it was a hundred times more excruciating than the most severe punishments.
Ouyang Feng suddenly asked, “The five’s internal energy is very good. What sect are you from?”
Yang Guo thought, “Even Godfather says their internal energy is very good; the five clowns indeed are not run-of-the-mill fighters.”
He heard Hong Qigong say, “They said they are the grand disciples of Western Tibet’s Holy Monk Jinlun Fawang.”
Ouyang Feng said, “Jinlun Fawang compared to you, who’s better?”
Hong Qigong said, “Don’t know, I don’t think there’s much difference.”
Ouyang Feng said, “How about compared with me?”
Hong Qigong said, “He’s better than you a bit.”
Ouyang Feng was shocked and called out, “I don’t believe it!”
In between the exchange of words, the energy in the hand and foot increased. Hong Qigong sent out different levels of palm energy but they were all dispersed by Ouyang Feng’s foot energy; the power in the foot increased but it was difficult to move Hong Qigong back even half an inch. After this exchange both admired each other, they laughed and jumped back.
The strong force within the Five Clowns of the Tibetan Border suddenly disappeared; they couldn’t stop themselves wobbling about as if they were drunk on wine. The five had the internal energies of two great fighters circulated to and fro between them, their internal organs had been seriously injured, the muscles weakened and bones softened; they had become invalids. They wouldn’t be able to fight off even a small child of seven or eight years of age.