The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 13 – Part 4

Huo Dou was furious, but he reminded himself that a great scheme must not be undone by petty anger. His side had already won two bouts and secured the Alliance Chief position. Why stir up new trouble over a boy? “Little beast,” he said, “so mischievous, you certainly need a thorough lesson, but there is no rush for that. Now, let the Alliance Chief of the jianghu Under Heaven, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor, address the assembly. Everyone shall heed his venerable commands.” The heroes roared in protest, a clamour of angry shouts.

Huo Dou declared loudly, “We agreed beforehand, best of three bouts. Are the words of heroes the words of men, or not?”

The heroes were all established figures of the jianghu.¹ They well understood that a team of four horses could not overtake a word once spoken.² To go back on their word, that they would never do. Yet these two bouts had been lost so unjustly: the first reversed by a treacherous ambush, the second merely by a broken weapon. But to insist they had not lost was also difficult to justify. Confronted with his question, for a moment no one could answer.

Yang Guo spoke up. “This old monk is so tall, so thin, so strange-looking. How can he be Alliance Chief? I say he is not fit.”

Huo Dou snarled, “Who is this child’s master? Take him away and discipline him. If he keeps making trouble here, I will not show mercy.”

Yang Guo said, “My master is the one fit to be Alliance Chief. What skill does your master have?”

Huo Dou asked, “Who is your master? Please invite them forth.” Seeing that Yang Guo’s skills were far from ordinary, he assumed his master must be an expert, and so he used the word “please.”

Yang Guo said, “Today, in the contest for Alliance Chief, it is the disciples who fight on behalf of their masters, is it not?”

Huo Dou said, “Correct. We won two of three bouts. Therefore my master is Alliance Chief.”

Yang Guo said, “Fine. Suppose you beat them, so what? You have not beaten my master’s disciple.”

Huo Dou asked, “Who is your master’s disciple?”

Yang Guo laughed. “Fool! My master’s disciple, that would be me.”

The heroes found this so amusing that they all burst out laughing.

Yang Guo laughed too. “Let us also fight three bouts. If you win two, then I will acknowledge the old monk as Alliance Chief. But if I win two, then I am sorry, the position of Alliance Chief will have to go to my master.”

Hearing this, the crowd thought, Could it be that his master is truly a figure of great stature, someone who has come to contend with Hong Qigong³ and the Golden Wheel National Preceptor for the Alliance Chief position? Whoever his master is, he is certainly a Han⁴ Chinese, which is far better than letting a Mongol National Preceptor seize the title. As for the boy, of course he could not defeat Huo Dou. But since their side was already beaten, only by creating a new complication could there be any hope of a reversal. So they clamoured in support: “Right, right! Unless you Mongols win two more bouts.” “This young brother speaks the truth.” “The Central Plains has many masters. You got lucky in two bouts, what is so special about that?”

Huo Dou considered: The two strongest opponents have already been defeated. What is there to fear from two more? But he worried they might use a relay strategy, defeat two, then send two more. He said to Yang Guo, “It is only reasonable that your honoured master should contend for the Alliance Chief position. But the heroes under heaven number in the thousands. Bout after bout, when would it ever end?”

Yang Guo lifted his chin. “My master would not bother with anyone else becoming Alliance Chief. But the sight of your master makes her sick.”

Huo Dou asked, “Who is your honoured master? Is the venerable one present?”

Yang Guo laughed. “The venerable one is right before your eyes. Hey, Gugu, he is asking after your venerable self.”

Xiaolongnü made a sound of acknowledgment and nodded at Huo Dou.

The heroes stared blankly, then roared with laughter. This girl was pretty and delicate, and looked even younger than Yang Guo. How could she possibly be his master? The boy was clearly making sport of Huo Dou. Only Hao Datong,⁵ Zhao Zhijing,⁶ Zhen Zhibing,⁷ and a few others knew that what he said was the truth. Even Huang Rong, for all her surpassing intelligence, would never have believed that a frail, tender girl like Xiaolongnü could be his master.

Huo Dou was furious. “Little brat, talking nonsense! This is a gathering of all the heroes under heaven, with countless matters of importance to attend to. We have no time for your foolery. Get out of here.”

Yang Guo said, “Your master is dark and ugly, and the gibberish he speaks is unbearably grating. Look at my master, how beautiful she is, how pure and elegant. Would she not make a far better Alliance Chief than your ugly monk of a master?”

Xiaolongnü, hearing Yang Guo praise her beauty, was delighted. She smiled sweetly, like a rare flower first blooming, like fine jade catching the light, radiant beyond compare.

The heroes felt that Yang Guo’s mockery of the enemy was growing bolder and bolder, and they found it immensely satisfying. Some of the more cautious elders, however, secretly worried for him, afraid that Huo Dou might suddenly strike to kill, which would surely cost the boy his life.

Sure enough, by now Huo Dou could restrain himself no longer. “Heroes under heaven,” he called, “take note. This prince kills this brat, he brings it on himself. Blame not this prince.” He raised his fan, ready to bring it crashing down on Yang Guo’s skull.

Yang Guo imitated his tone and posture, puffing out his chest and belly. “Heroes under heaven, take note. This little brat kills this prince, he brings it on himself. Blame not this little brat!” Amid the roaring laughter, he suddenly swung the oar handle sideways at Huo Dou’s rear.

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Huo Dou twisted aside, his fan jabbing diagonally while his left palm shot forward like the wind, striking directly at the boy’s temple. The fan thrust was a feint. The palm strike was real. He put ten-tenths of his power into that palm, determined to smash the boy’s skull open with a single blow. Yang Guo slipped away at an angle, shoving a square table forward as he went. With a crack, Huo Dou’s palm struck the table, sending splinters flying as half of it collapsed. The heroes gasped at the force of the blow. Huo Dou kicked the table aside and pressed his attack.

Seeing how vicious his palm strikes were, Yang Guo no longer dared take him lightly. He swung the oar handle and began using the Dog-Beating Staff Technique in earnest against him.

Hong Qigong had taught him every move of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique. On the summit of Mount Hua,⁸ he had spent several days demonstrating them to Ouyang Feng,⁹ and had worked through even the most intricate and subtle variations. He had also heard the formulae and transformations from Huang Rong as she taught Lu Youjiao.¹⁰ Over the past half-day, he had carefully worked through the combinations in his mind, merging the two together, and had managed to wield them with considerable fluency. But the oar handle was too heavy and had been shortened by half, making it awkward to use. Moreover, his study time had been too brief for true mastery. After a dozen or so moves, Huo Dou had trapped him in a corner, fan and palm working in tandem.

Huang Rong saw that the moves Yang Guo was using were indeed all Dog-Beating Staff Technique. Though his execution was raw and the subtleties were not fully realised, his postures and movements looked the part. She knew his weapon was unsuitable, so she strode to the centre of the hall, extended her staff between the two combatants, and said, “Guoer, to beat a dog, you need a dog-beating staff. Chief Lu’s staff, borrow it for now. Return it once the vicious dog is dealt with.” The Dog-Beating Staff was the symbol of the Beggars’ Guild chief’s authority, which was why she made a point of specifying that it was a loan. Yang Guo was overjoyed. He took the bamboo staff. Huang Rong whispered in his ear, “Force him to hand over the antidote.” With that, she leapt back.

Yang Guo had not been paying attention when Zhu Ziliu was struck by the hidden weapons and did not know what “antidote” meant. He was momentarily puzzled, but Huo Dou was already chopping at him with his palm.

Yang Guo raised the Dog-Beating Staff and jabbed it toward Huo Dou’s lower abdomen. The bamboo staff was both strong and pliant, just the right length and weight, perfectly suited to his hand. Using the Dog-Beating Staff to execute the Dog-Beating Staff Technique naturally multiplied its power. Huo Dou’s palm was chopping toward his neck when he saw the bamboo staff thrust out swiftly, aimed precisely at the “Barrier Origin”¹¹ acupoint three inches below his navel, a key point on the Conception Vessel meridian.¹² This little brat’s pressure-point accuracy is remarkable, he thought with a start. After tangling with Yang Guo several times, he had always dismissed him as merely an agile youth who had received some instruction from a good teacher. Now, seeing this pressure-point strike, he finally regarded him as a worthy opponent and no longer dared treat him lightly. He withdrew his palm, spun around, and held his fan across his chest in a defensive posture. The expert spectators were even more astonished to see him shift to defence, a clear sign that he now regarded Yang Guo with considerable wariness.

Yang Guo said, “Wait. This little brat does not fight for nothing. There must be a wager.”

Huo Dou said, “Fine. If you lose, you kowtow to me three times and call me ‘Grandfather’ three times.”

Yang Guo once again used the verbal trap that the children of Jiangnan delighted in. Pretending not to have heard clearly, he asked, “Call you what?” This trick, when sprung suddenly, was almost impossible to avoid if you did not know it. Huo Dou had grown up on the frontier, surrounded by simple, honest folk. How could he understand the sly tricks of Jiangnan children? He answered without thinking, “Call me Grandfather!” Yang Guo responded, “Mm, good grandson. Call me again.” Amid the crowd’s roaring laughter, Huo Dou realised he had been duped yet again. He ground his teeth and attacked with fan and palm in a storm of furious blows.

Yang Guo fought back with all his might. “If you lose,” he said, “you must give me the antidote.”

Huo Dou raged, “Me, lose to you? Stop dreaming, little beast!”

Yang Guo raised the bamboo staff. “Who is the little beast cursing?”

Huo Dou began, “The little beast is cursing…” The words were already at his lips when he abruptly realised. He pulled back from the brink just in time, swallowing the final “you” with a heroic effort. Yang Guo laughed. “Little foreign prince, I have taught you a lesson. Remember it.” But though his words were light, the fight was growing harder by the moment.

Huo Dou was the National Preceptor’s prized disciple and had already grasped the essence of the Mongolian Vajra Sect’s martial arts. He had fought nearly a thousand moves against Zhu Ziliu, Great Master Yideng’s strongest disciple. The depth of his cultivation was not something Yang Guo could match in a day. Yang Guo had gained the upper hand at first by provoking his anger, and Huo Dou had not fought at full strength. Now that the contest was serious, after twenty-some moves Yang Guo was clearly outmatched. But the heroes, seeing a boy so young hold his own for so long, were full of praise. “This child is remarkable,” they said, asking each other whose disciple he was.

Seeing his opponent weakening, Huo Dou intensified his palm force. The Dog-Beating Staff Technique that Yang Guo used was profound and unfathomable, originally beyond the reach of Huo Dou’s fan and palm methods. But Hong Qigong had taught him only the moves. The secret formulae of the staff technique he had only just heard that morning from Huang Rong’s mouth. Relying on his intelligence, he had barely managed to piece the two together for use, but to achieve full integration and unleash its true power in half a day was, of course, impossible. As the fight continued, Yang Guo dodged and ducked, barely holding on.

Guo Fu and the Wu brothers had been watching the contest with rapt attention since it began, whispering among themselves. When Yang Guo stepped out to fight, it had come as a complete surprise. The Wu brothers called him arrogant and foolish, asking for trouble. Guo Fu, perversely, argued the opposite, praising his boldness and quick wits. The Wu brothers felt a sour ache in their hearts that was most unpleasant. Earlier, when Xiaolongnü had suddenly appeared and shown such intimacy with Yang Guo, the brothers had exchanged a look and felt enormously relieved. But when they heard Yang Guo call her his master, whether it was true or not, they could not tell, their hearts grew heavy again. Now, seeing Yang Guo driven to desperation by Huo Dou, the two brothers knew they should not gloat over another’s misfortune or wish for the enemy’s victory. Yet in the deepest recesses of their hearts, they hoped his fall would be as spectacular as possible. So it was that they swung between joy and anxiety, their moods shifting several times in the span of a few breaths. Guo Fu, for her part, felt neither fondness nor dislike for Yang Guo. She merely regarded him as a down-and-out nobody of no consequence. When she heard her father say he intended to betroth her to him, she had been momentarily indignant, but she never believed such a thing could actually happen, and she did not dwell on it. Later, seeing that his martial arts were surprisingly strong, she was merely astonished. But now, watching him in danger, she could not help feeling worried.

Suddenly Yang Guo swung his iron sword and shouted, “Careful! I am about to use hidden weapons!” Huo Dou had used the poison darts hidden in his fan to wound Zhu Ziliu. Hearing Yang Guo’s warning, he assumed the iron sword concealed hidden weapons just like his own folding fan, no wonder the boy used a rusty sword instead of a sharp one. If he himself had used such a trick to snatch victory, surely his opponent could do the same. Seeing Yang Guo aim the iron sword at his face, Huo Dou hastily leapt to the left. But he saw Yang Guo’s left hand form a sword talisman,¹³ guiding the iron sword as it thrust in from the right. Where were the hidden weapons?

Footnotes

1. 江湖 – jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. Itinerant world beyond settled society and official reach, holding not only martial artists but the trades that travel with them, including pedlars, physicians, fortune-tellers, entertainers, boatmen, beggars, outlaws and the like. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. Four horses cannot overtake a word once spoken (驷不及舌). Sì Bùjí Shé. Classical Chinese proverb meaning that once words leave the mouth, even a team of four horses cannot catch them. Equivalent to “a word spoken is past recalling.” ↩

3. 洪七公 – Hóng Qīgōng. Literally Hong the Seventh Lord; the numeral seven marks seniority among sworn brothers. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. Han (汉). Hàn. Majority ethnic group of China, often used to refer to the Chinese people as distinct from non-Chinese peoples like the Mongols. ↩

5. 郝大通 – Hǎo Dàtōng. His name meaning “great penetration”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 赵志敬 – Zhào Zhìjìng. His name meaning “aspiring to reverence”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 甄志丙 – Zhēn Zhìbǐng. His name meaning “aspiring to the third stem”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 华山 – Huáshān. One of China’s Five Sacred Mountains, site of martial arts competitions. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 欧阳锋 – Ōuyáng Fēng. His name meaning “blade” or “cutting edge”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 鲁有脚 – Lǔ Yǒujiǎo. His name meaning “having feet”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. “Barrier Origin” acupoint (关元穴). Guānyuán Xué. Located three inches below the navel, a key point on the Conception Vessel meridian (renmai). Striking it can be lethal or crippling. ↩

12. 任脉 – Rèn Mài. Conception Vessel, one of the Eight Extraordinary Meridians in neigong practice. ↩

13. Sword talisman (剑诀). Jiànjué. Hand gesture used in Chinese swordsmanship where the index and middle fingers are extended while the other fingers are curled, guiding the sword’s energy and direction. ↩