The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 11 – Part 6

Guo Jing hurriedly returned the salute. “Zhao shixiong is too modest. Let us step into the study to speak. The boy has offended Zhao shixiong. I will certainly punish him severely to ease Zhao shixiong’s anger.”

He spoke these words clearly, and though Yang Guo was some distance away, he heard every word. His plan was already set in his mind. If he so much as scolds me, he resolved, I will stand up and walk out, and never see his face again. If he strikes me, well, for the kindness he showed me in the past, I will not hit back. If he beats me too badly, the worst that can happen is he kills me. It is no great matter. When Gugu learns of it someday, I wonder if she would grieve for me. Facing a moment of life and death, the first thing he thought of was Xiaolongnü. With this resolution in his heart, he felt calm. The fear he had felt upon first seeing Zhao Zhijing was gone. Seeing Guo Jing beckon to him, he followed behind.

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Guo Fu and the Wu brothers had been drinking at another table. At first, they had not recognised Yang Guo. Only after her parents identified him did Guo Fu remember that this was the childhood companion from Peach Blossom Island. So much time had passed, the appearance of young people changes most dramatically. Even a few months apart could bring noticeable differences, let alone several years. And Yang Guo had deliberately made himself look destitute and wretched, mingling among hundreds of people. Of course Guo Fu had not recognised him. Seeing him now, her heart stirred unexpectedly. She recalled the fights and quarrels on Peach Blossom Island all those years ago. Did he still hold those old grudges? Looking at his pitiful state, so utterly different from the Wu brothers’ dashing and handsome appearance, she could not help feeling a faint sympathy. In a low voice, she said to Wu Dunru, “Father sent him to Quanzhen to study martial arts. I wonder how his skills compare to ours.” Before Wu Dunru could answer, Wu Xiuwen cut in: “Master’s martial arts are unrivalled under heaven. How could he compare to us?” Guo Fu nodded. “His foundation was poor before. I imagine he has not made much progress. But how did he end up in such a wretched state?” Wu Xiuwen said, “Those old Daoists were glaring at him as if they wanted to swallow him whole. That boy’s temper has always been foul. He must have caused some major trouble again.”

The three of them whispered among themselves for a while. Hearing that Guo Jing had invited Hao Datong and the others into the study for a talk, and that he had said he would punish Yang Guo severely, Guo Fu’s curiosity was piqued. “Quick,” she said, “let us get to the study first and hide. We can listen to what they say.” Wu Dunru, afraid of being scolded by his master, did not dare agree. But Wu Xiuwen was already crying out his approval and had dashed ahead of Guo Fu. Guo Fu stamped her right foot, a hint of anger on her face, and said to Wu Dunru, “You never listen to me.” Seeing her pretty pout and her smiling brows, Wu Dunru’s heart gave a violent thump. He could resist no longer and hurried after her.

The three had just hidden themselves behind the bookshelf when Guo Jing and Huang Rong entered the study with Hao Datong, Sun Bu’er, Zhen Zhibing, and Zhao Zhijing. Hosts and guests took their seats. Yang Guo followed them in and stood to one side.

Guo Jing said, “Guoer, you may sit too.” Yang Guo shook his head. “I will not sit.” Facing six martial arts masters, bold as he was, he could not help feeling a tremor of unease.

Guo Jing had always regarded Yang Guo as his own flesh and blood, and he held the Seven Masters of Quanzhen in the deepest respect. He assumed, without even asking who was right or wrong, that the younger generation must be at fault. Putting on a stern face, he said to Yang Guo, “Such audacity from a child, daring to show disrespect to your master. Kneel at once and kowtow to your two grand shishu¹, your shifu², and your shishu³ to beg forgiveness.” In those times, the bonds between sovereign and subject, father and son, master and disciple were paramount. The sovereign demanded death, and the subject dared not refuse to die. The father demanded death, and the son dared not refuse to die. In the jianghu, the hierarchy between master and disciple tolerated not the slightest deviation. For Guo Jing to scold him like this was, in truth, out of pity for his lonely plight. His tone had already been tempered to the gentlest degree. Anyone else would have been cursing “little beast, little bastard” and raining down fists and slaps.

Zhao Zhijing shot to his feet and sneered. “How dare this humble Daoist presume to be Master Yang’s honoured teacher? Hero Guo, do not mock me with your words. Our Quanzhen Order has not offended you, Hero Guo. Why insult us to our faces? Master Yang, this little Daoist kowtows to you, honoured elder, in apology. Blame my own blind eyes for failing to recognise a true hero…”

Guo Jing and Huang Rong saw his expression shift wildly, his anger growing with every word, and were both thoroughly baffled. If a disciple committed an offence, it was normal for a master to scold or even beat him as punishment. Why this complete loss of decorum? Huang Rong guessed that whatever Yang Guo had done must be exceptionally serious. Seeing Guo Jing silenced by the outburst, she said slowly, “We have caused Zhao shixiong trouble, and we are truly sorry for it. But Zhao shixiong need not be so angry. How exactly did this child offend his master? Please, sit down and tell us in detail.”

Zhao Zhijing said loudly, “Does this paltry skill of mine, Zhao Zhijing, qualify me to be anyone’s master? Would that not make me the laughingstock of every hero under heaven? Would that not be making a spectacle of me?”

Huang Rong’s elegant brows furrowed with displeasure. She had never had much friendship with the Quanzhen Order. Years ago, the Seven Masters had formed the Big Dipper Formation to besiege her father, Huang Yaoshi, and Qiu Chuji⁴ had stubbornly tried to betroth Mu Nianci⁵ to Guo Jing, both incidents had greatly displeased her. Though time had passed and she no longer held grudges, Zhao Zhijing’s shouting and insolent tone in her presence was going too far.

Hao Datong and Sun Bu’er, while understanding Zhao Zhijing’s anger, felt that such blustering was hardly the conduct of one who had renounced the world. Sun Bu’er said, “Zhijing, explain matters properly to Hero Guo and Chief Huang. What kind of behaviour is this, carrying on so wildly? As cultivators of the Way, what Way is it that we cultivate?” Though Sun Bu’er was a woman, her temperament was stern, and all the junior disciples held her in deep awe. Her calm, measured words instantly silenced Zhao Zhijing. “Yes, Master Uncle. Yes,” he said repeatedly, and retreated to his seat.

Guo Jing said, “Guoer, look at the respect your master shows his elders. Why do you not learn from his example?” Zhao Zhijing opened his mouth to say once more, “I am not his master.” But a glance from Sun Bu’er forced him to swallow the words.

Yang Guo declared loudly, “He is not my master!”

These words shocked not only Guo Jing and Huang Rong but also Guo Fu and the Wu brothers, who were eavesdropping behind the bookshelf. In the jianghu, the bond between master and disciple was absolute. As the saying went: “One day as master, a lifetime as father.” Guo Jing had been raised from childhood by the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan⁶ and taught martial arts by Hong Qigong, the grace of his teachers ran deep. Since youth, he had believed that reverence for one’s master was an immutable law of heaven and earth. How could Yang Guo dare to openly disown his teacher and utter such unfilial words? Guo Jing shot to his feet, pointing at Yang Guo, his voice trembling. “You… you… what did you say?” He was clumsy with words and did not know how to curse, but his face had turned iron-grey with rage.

Huang Rong had rarely seen him so angry. She said softly, “Jing gege, this child’s nature was never good. He is not worth your anger.”

Yang Guo had been afraid at first. But now, seeing even Uncle Guo, who had always doted on him, turn so harsh, he hardened his heart. Apart from death, nothing else matters, he thought. Even if all of you together beat me to death, so what? He said clearly, “My nature was never good, true enough. But I never begged any of you to teach me martial arts. You are all great and famous figures in the jianghu. Why resort to trickery to harm a child with no father and no mother?” At the words “no father and no mother”, the pain of his own circumstances welled up, and the rims of his eyes reddened slightly. But he immediately bit down on his lower lip. Even if I die today, he told himself, I will not shed a single tear.

Guo Jing raged, “Your Auntie Guo and your master… out of kindness… kindness, taught you martial arts, all for the sake of the friendship between me and your late father. Who used… used any trickery? Who… who… harmed… harmed you?” He was never good with words, and in his fury, he stammered even worse.

Seeing him so agitated, Yang Guo spoke even more slowly. “Uncle Guo has treated me very well. I will never forget that.”

Huang Rong said calmly, “Auntie Guo has certainly wronged you. If you wish to hold a grudge for life, that is your choice.”

By this point, Yang Guo had decided to speak his mind freely. “Auntie Guo did not treat me well,” he said, “but she did not mistreat me either. You said you would teach me martial arts, but in truth you only taught me to read. Did you ever pass on to me even a fraction of martial skill?” Guo Jing heard this and thought, So Ronger never taught him martial arts. Yang Guo continued, “But reading is also a good thing. Your nephew at least learned a few more characters and heard you tell many stories of the ancients. For that, I still must thank you. But these old Daoists…” He pointed at Hao Datong and Zhao Zhijing and said bitterly, “One day, I will repay that debt of blood.”

Guo Jing was horrified. “Wh… what? What debt of blood… what… what are you talking about?”

Yang Guo said, “This Daoist surnamed Zhao claims to be my master. He taught me not a shred of martial arts, that much I could accept. But he ordered a gang of young Daoists to beat me. Since neither Uncle Guo nor Auntie Guo taught me martial arts, and Quanzhen refused to teach me either, naturally all I could do was take the beatings. And this one surnamed Hao, he saw a kind old woman take pity on me, and he beat her to death with his own hands. You stinking Daoist Hao, tell me, is this true or false? You beat a defenceless old woman of sixty or seventy until she vomited blood and died. Is your Quanzhen Order a righteous school that acts with chivalry and justice, or an evil cult that murders the old and weak? Hao Datong, let us go out to the great hall right now and ask the heroes of the world to judge this matter. Do you dare? If you dare not, then you are a villainous Daoist and a scoundrel, and every last one of your Quanzhen Order, from top to bottom, is a shameless thug!” Thinking of how Grandma Sun⁷ had died for his sake, he ground his teeth and lunged forward as if to fight Hao Datong to the death.

Hao Datong was a lofty scholar of Quanzhen. His attainment in both Daoist philosophy and martial arts had reached an extremely high level, and his mastery of the Book of Changes was unsurpassed within the order. But because of a single careless blow that had killed Grandma Sun, he had been weighed down by gloom for years, regarding it as the great regret of his life. The Seven Masters of Quanzhen had killed many in their time, but all had been evil and villainous men, never had they harmed the innocent. Now, hearing Yang Guo denounce him publicly, his face turned the colour of dead ashes. The scene from that day, when his palm had sent Grandma Sun spraying blood, appeared before his eyes with terrible clarity. He carried no weapon on his person. Reaching out with his left hand, he drew the sword from Zhao Zhijing’s waist.

Everyone assumed he meant to stab Yang Guo. Guo Jing stepped forward, ready to intervene. But instead, Hao Datong reversed the sword and extended the hilt toward Yang Guo. “You are right,” he said. “I killed the wrong person. Take your revenge for Grandma Sun. I will not lift a hand to defend myself.” Everyone present was stunned. Guo Jing, fearing Yang Guo would take the sword and attack, cried out, “Guoer, do not be disrespectful.”

Yang Guo knew that before Guo Jing and Huang Rong, he could never take this revenge. “You know perfectly well that Uncle Guo would never let me strike,” he said clearly. “Yet you put on this grand show of generosity. If you truly wanted me to kill you, why did you not hand me the sword somewhere with no one else around? Hao Datong, you shameless murderer, you villainous Daoist, you evil thug. I will repay this blood debt sooner or later. You killed Grandma Sun. Let us see whether your Quanzhen Order is a gang of great villains who use force to murder the orphaned and widowed. Why not kill me too, to silence the witness?”

Hao Datong was a senior of the jianghu, yet this youth’s words stabbed at him so precisely that he could find no reply. He held the sword, unable to offer it, unable to withdraw it. With a surge of energy through his hand, he gave a sharp shake, pa!, and the blade snapped in two. He threw the broken sword to the ground, let out a long sigh, and said, “Enough. Enough!” Then he strode out of the study. Guo Jing moved to detain him, but Hao Datong left without looking back.

Guo Jing looked at Yang Guo, then at Sun Bu’er and the others. It seems what the boy says may not be false, he thought. After a long pause, he asked, “Why did the Quanzhen masters not teach you martial arts? What have you been doing these past few years?” His tone had softened considerably.

Yang Guo said, “When Uncle Guo went up Zhongnan Mountain and beat hundreds of Quanzhen Daoists until they could not fight back, even if Masters Ma, Liu, Qiu, and Wang⁸ did not take offence, do you think the others did not hold a grudge? They could not bully you, Uncle Guo, but could they not take it out on a small child like me? They wished they could beat me to death, that would have satisfied them. Why would they ever teach me martial arts? These past few years, I have lived a life darker than the darkest night. That I am still alive today to see Uncle Guo is truly a blessing from the heavens.” With a few light words, he shifted the entire blame for his rebellion from Quanzhen onto Guo Jing’s shoulders. As for “darker than the darkest night”, that was not exactly a lie. Living in the Ancient Tomb,⁹ he naturally never saw the light of day. To Guo Jing’s ears, it stirred an overwhelming surge of pity.

Zhao Zhijing saw that Guo Jing was now nine-tenths convinced by Yang Guo’s words. Growing desperate, he burst out, “You… you… little bastard, talking nonsense… you… humph, our Quanzhen Order is open and honourable… that… that…” Yang Guo raged back, “You call me a little bastard? You old bastard, worse than a pig or a dog! Speak one honest word, did you or did you not order your disciples to beat me?”

Guo Jing was ready to believe everything Yang Guo said. But Huang Rong had been watching faces and reading expressions. She saw Yang Guo’s eyes darting about, his face alive with cunning. This child is dangerously clever, she thought. There is deception here. She said, “So, according to this, you have not learned any martial arts at all? All these years under the Quanzhen Order have been wasted?” As she spoke, she rose slowly. Suddenly, her arm shot out, and her palm came chopping straight down toward the crown of his head.

Her fingers were aimed at the Baihui¹⁰ acupoint at the very centre of his skull, while the heel of her palm targeted the Shangxing¹¹ acupoint, one inch within the hairline above his forehead. Both were lethal vital points, a heavy strike to either meant instant death, beyond any hope of rescue. Guo Jing cried out in alarm, “Ronger!” But Huang Rong’s hand was lightning-fast. This was her family’s “Peach Blossom Falling Petals Palm,”¹² which gave no warning whatsoever, the hand moved and the palm arrived. By the time Guo Jing could intervene, it was already too late.

Footnotes

1. 师叔祖 – shīshūzǔ. Literally teacher-uncle-ancestor. Rendered Grand Shishu: a shidi of one’s Grand Shifu, the same rung as 太师叔. See §IV.11e. ↩

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

3. 师叔 – shīshū. Junior lineage uncle. Shidi or shimei of one’s shifu. Shī means teacher. Shū means father’s younger brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 丘处机 – Qiū Chǔjī. His name meaning “dwelling in opportunity”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 穆念慈 – Mù Niàncí. Her name meaning “cherishing kindness”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 江南七怪 – Jiāngnán Qī Guài. Group of seven martial artists from Jiaxing who followed their own code of honour. They took a bet to find and train Guo Jing and spent years in the Mongolian steppes fulfilling the vow; their integrity and loyalty were legendary. ↩

7. 孙婆婆 – Sūn Pópo. Literally Granny Sun; pópo is a familiar term for an elderly woman. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. Masters Ma, Liu, Qiu, and Wang (马刘丘王). Four senior Masters of Quanzhen: Ma Yu (马钰), Liu Chuxuan (刘处玄), Qiu Chuji (丘处机), and Wang Chuyi (王处一). Along with Hao Datong, Sun Bu’er, and Tan Chuduan (谭处端, deceased), they form the Seven Masters. ↩

9. 古墓 – Gǔmù. Underground tomb complex beneath Zhongnan Mountain, home of the Ancient Tomb School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. Baihui (百会). “Hundred Convergences” acupoint at the crown of the head (GV-20). One of the most vital points in the body; a heavy strike here is invariably fatal. ↩

11. Shangxing (上星). “Upper Star” acupoint, located one inch within the hairline above the forehead (GV-23). Another lethal vital point, especially vulnerable to palm strikes. ↩

12. Peach Blossom Falling Petals Palm (桃华落英掌). Signature palm technique of Huang Yaoshi’s Peach Blossom Island school. Deceptively graceful, like petals drifting from a peach tree, it strikes without warning and from unpredictable angles. Huang Rong used it to test Yang Guo’s martial arts. ↩