The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 13 – Part 5

Huo Dou knew he had been tricked. “Little beast!” he cursed. Yang Guo asked, “Who is the little beast cursing?” Huo Dou did not answer this time, but intensified his palm force. Yang Guo raised his left hand. “Hidden weapons coming!” Huo Dou hurriedly dodged to the right, and his opponent’s sword came thrusting precisely from the right. Huo Dou hastily pulled in his body and twisted his waist, the blade passed within an inch of his right ribs. It was a lethally close call. When the thrust missed, the heroes all cried, “What a pity!” The Mongol warriors secretly gasped, “How shameful!”

Huo Dou had narrowly escaped death, and cold sweat soaked his back. But then Yang Guo raised his left hand again. “Hidden weapons!” he shouted. Huo Dou ignored him completely this time and pressed his palm attack, and sure enough, it was another bluff. Yang Guo’s sword thrust missed, and he lunged forward. His left hand rose a fourth time. “Hidden weapons!” he yelled. Huo Dou began to curse, “Little…”, but before the second word left his mouth, a flash of golden light suddenly appeared before his eyes. The distance was close, and after being deceived several times, he was completely off guard. He threw himself into a desperate leap, but felt a faint, piercing pain in his leg, several extremely fine hidden weapons had struck him. The projectiles are tiny, he thought. Even if they hit, they cannot do much harm. In his towering rage, he attacked with fan thrusts and palm chops, determined to kill this cunning boy on the spot.

Yang Guo knew he had succeeded. He had no intention of fighting with full force now. He merely danced his sword to guard his vital points and said with a grin, “I warned you again and again: ‘Hidden weapons coming, hidden weapons coming.’ You never believed me. I did not lie to you, did I?”

Huo Dou was about to deliver a palm strike when he suddenly felt a numbing itch in his leg, as though bitten by a large mosquito. He held his breath and forced himself to endure it, preparing to attack, but the itching grew worse. A terrible thought struck him: Not good, the little beast’s hidden weapons are poisoned! The thought had barely turned in his mind when the itching in his leg became absolutely unbearable. He could no longer care about the enemy before him. He threw down his fan and reached to scratch, and the moment he scratched, it was as though even his heart began to itch. He let out a cry and collapsed. The poison of the Ancient Tomb School’s Jade Bee Golden Needles¹ was rare beyond compare in the world. A single needle was already hard enough to endure, how much worse to be struck by several in the heat of battle, when the blood was racing?

---

The Mongol monk Da’erba strode out with great steps, scooped up his shidi, and delivered him to their master. Turning back to Yang Guo, he said, “Boy, I will fight you!” He swept his vajra pestle horizontally, striking with lightning speed toward Yang Guo’s waist.

The pestle came with a beam of golden light. The vajra pestle was immensely heavy, and the fact that golden light flashed the instant he struck showed the terrifying strength of his arms and the swiftness of his technique. Yang Guo kept his feet planted and drew his waist back by a full foot, the pestle swept past just before his belly. But Da’erba, without waiting for the pestle’s momentum to exhaust itself, twisted his wrist, and the horizontal sweep abruptly transformed into a straight thrust aimed at Yang Guo’s waist. To wield so heavy a weapon with such ferocious force, and yet redirect it in mid-sweep, everyone was caught off guard. Yang Guo was equally shocked. He hurriedly pressed his iron sword down on the pestle and used the force to launch himself into the air.

Da’erba pursued before he could land, swinging the pestle. Yang Guo pressed his sword against the pestle again and soared upward a second time. Da’erba roared, “Where do you think you are going?” He struck again. Yang Guo was in midair, unable to twist or turn. The situation was desperate beyond measure. Taking a gamble, he suddenly reached out and grabbed the head of the pestle, then chopped down with his sword. Had he possessed the Diancang Fisherman’s strength, the enemy would have been forced to release the pestle. But Da’erba’s natural strength exceeded his by several times. Da’erba yanked back fiercely and retreated. Yang Guo took the opportunity to release the pestle head and landed lightly on his feet. Three times he had been forced into the air, his life hanging by a thread. Though he had not managed to disarm his opponent, the crisis was resolved, and the spectators all let out their breath. The Ancient Tomb School excelled in lightness skill, and its swordplay sought only extraordinary speed, not forceful injury, these moves were all techniques of his own school, practised to perfection.

Da’erba, seeing his lightness skill and rapid transformations, said, “The boy’s kung fu is very good. Who taught you?” He spoke in Mongolian, which Yang Guo naturally could not understand a word of. Assuming the monk was cursing him, Yang Guo mimicked his pronunciation and repeated the exact same sentence, with perfect accuracy and word order. To Da’erba’s ears, it was precisely: “The boy’s kung fu is very good. Who taught you?” So he answered, “My master is the Golden Wheel National Preceptor. I am not a boy, you should call me Great Monk.”

Yang Guo was determined to yield not a single inch in the verbal battle. However viciously you curse me, he thought, as long as I return it in full, I will not lose in words. If you call me a pig, dog, or beast in your foreign tongue, I will do exactly the same. So he listened intently, and as soon as Da’erba finished speaking, he repeated in the same fashion, in Mongolian: “My master is the Golden Wheel National Preceptor. I am not a boy, you should call me Great Monk.”

Da’erba was astonished. He tilted his head and studied Yang Guo from left and right. You are clearly a boy, he thought. How can you be a Great Monk? And how can your master be the Golden Wheel National Preceptor? He said, “I am the National Preceptor’s first-generation disciple. Which generation are you?” Yang Guo likewise said, “I am the National Preceptor’s first-generation disciple. Which generation are you?”

In the Esoteric Buddhism² of Tibet and Mongolia, the doctrine of reincarnation³ had long been established. The formal system of Dalai and Panchen reincarnations had not yet begun at that time, but the belief that after death a person could be reborn without losing their spiritual nature was deeply held by every adherent of Esoteric Buddhism. Though the Golden Wheel National Preceptor was a Mongol by birth, after taking monastic vows he had studied the Tibetan Esoteric Buddhist tradition, known in Mongolia as the Vajra Sect. In his youth he had accepted a senior disciple, but that disciple had died before reaching the age of twenty. Neither Da’erba nor Huo Dou had ever met him, they only knew that such a person had existed. This was why Da’erba was ranked second under the National Preceptor and Huo Dou third. Now, hearing these words, Da’erba believed Yang Guo was his eldest shixiong reborn. And if the boy was not a divine child who had brought his skills from a past life, how else could a mere youth possess such martial arts? Furthermore, the boy was a Central Plains youth, how could his Tibetan be so fluent? Da’erba stared at him intently. The more he looked, the more convinced he became. Suddenly he threw down his vajra pestle, bowed low to Yang Guo, and intoned repeatedly: “Eldest shixiong, your shidi Da’erba pays his respects.”

This naturally astonished Yang Guo greatly. This monk cannot out-curse me, he thought, so he bows his head in surrender. Seeing the man’s extremely deferential manner, he understood that the words being spoken were certainly not curses but terms of respect, and that there was no need to mimic him this time. So he nodded and smiled, pressed his palms together in a bow, signalling acceptance and returning the courtesy.

The heroes of the Central Plains were even more bewildered. Aside from Guo Jing and Huang Rong, none of them understood Mongolian. They had no idea what Yang Guo had said during that long exchange of jabbering and gibbering, what words could possibly have subdued this foreign monk of divine strength?

Only the Golden Wheel National Preceptor understood what had happened. He knew his second disciple was simple and honest, and had been fooled by Yang Guo. “Da’erba,” he shouted, “he is not your eldest shixiong reborn! Get up and fight him!”

Da’erba leapt up in alarm. “Master, I am certain he is eldest shixiong. Otherwise, how could a boy so young possess such skill?”

The National Preceptor said, “Your eldest shixiong’s martial arts far surpass yours. This boy is not your equal.”

Da’erba shook his head, refusing to believe it. The National Preceptor knew his disciple’s nature was the most stubborn, and for the moment he could not explain. “If you do not believe me,” he said, “test him again in combat.”

Da’erba had always treated his master’s words as divine law. If his master said Yang Guo was not his eldest shixiong reborn, then it was most likely true. But the boy was so young, yet possessed such advanced martial arts, and had even claimed to be his eldest shixiong, it was hard not to believe. Better to follow his master’s orders and test him with a few moves, to see his real skill and determine who would win. Then truth and falsehood would be clear. He raised his hand to Yang Guo and said, “Very well, I will test your martial arts. Truth or falsehood will be decided by victory or defeat.”

Yang Guo saw him rise and speak several sentences in a jabbering tongue, his expression extremely respectful. He guessed the monk was saying something polite, so he repeated it back with perfect accuracy. To Da’erba’s ears, it was exactly: “Very well, I will test your martial arts. Truth or falsehood will be decided by victory or defeat.” Hearing these words, Da’erba felt another surge of fear. Master says my eldest shixiong’s martial arts far surpass mine, he thought. I certainly cannot defeat him.

Yang Guo saw the fear on his face and thought, Let me frighten him a little more. Maybe he will simply withdraw. He said, “You have five disciples, the Five Uglies of the Sichuan Border.⁴ A few days ago on the summit of Mount Hua, they showed me disrespect, so I crippled their martial arts. Are those five wretches still alive?” He spoke in Chinese, which Da’erba naturally could not understand. An accompanying warrior translated. When Da’erba heard, his shock deepened.

The Five Uglies of the Sichuan Border, caught between the twin assaults of Hong Qigong and Ouyang Feng, had all their meridians⁵ destroyed. They had been unable even to speak afterward. Da’erba had examined their injuries and concluded that not even his master, the Golden Wheel National Preceptor, could possibly have possessed the power to shatter all eight extraordinary meridians while still preserving their lives. Whoever had done this must have had abilities that reached heaven and pierced earth, the work of gods or demons. How could he have imagined that the combined neili of Hong Qigong and Ouyang Feng was no less than the Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s, and that the two together surpassed his master by a full margin? Now, hearing Yang Guo say this, his fear redoubled. He glanced at the National Preceptor and saw anger on his face, yet he dared not refuse to fight. He could only say, “Please show mercy.” Yang Guo repeated his Mongolian words: “Please show mercy.”

Guo Fu, seeing the two of them jabbering endlessly in Mongolian, went to Huang Rong’s side and asked, “Mother, what are they saying?” Guo Jing understood the Mongolian words spoken by Da’erba and Yang Guo, but he did not understand why Yang Guo was mimicking him. Huang Rong had learned some Mongolian during Guo Jing’s western campaign, but her knowledge was rough and incomplete. She understood fragments of the exchange between Da’erba and Yang Guo but could not grasp the meaning. She did, however, hear that Yang Guo was echoing Da’erba’s words. But why Da’erba would prostrate himself before him, that she could not fathom. When her daughter asked, she merely said, “Hm.” She added, “Brother Yang is joking with him.”

At that very moment, Da’erba suddenly swung his pestle at Yang Guo. He thought he had made his intentions perfectly clear and that his opponent would be prepared. But Yang Guo, seeing his respectful manner, had never imagined he would suddenly attack. The pestle nearly struck him, and he barely leapt back in time to evade.

He retreated, then immediately lunged forward, thrusting three times in rapid succession. Da’erba, his heart filled with fear, worried that Yang Guo’s martial attainment was truly astonishing, a reincarnated soul must possess immense divine powers. For the moment, he merely guarded his vital points with the vajra pestle, not daring the slightest carelessness. After several moves, Yang Guo saw that he was only defending and not attacking. Though he did not understand why, he was happy to seize the offensive, drifting here and there, striking east and jabbing west. This set of Jade Maiden Swordplay⁶ he performed with dashing spirit, his every glance and gesture full of life, his attacks swift and startling, the likes of which were rarely seen.

They traded over a hundred moves. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor watched with growing impatience. “Da’erba!” he barked. “Counterattack at once! He is not your eldest shixiong!” Da’erba’s martial arts naturally far surpassed Yang Guo’s, but the awe in his heart had reduced his effectiveness by half, while Yang Guo seized the chance to unleash his full power. One grew ever more adept and confident. The other grew ever more timid and yielding. Though Yang Guo held the upper hand, he could not actually injure Da’erba, which only made Da’erba more certain that his eldest shixiong was holding back out of mercy. The National Preceptor was furious. “Counterattack this instant!” he thundered. His voice was so ferociously powerful that it made every eardrum hum. Da’erba dared not disobey his master’s command. He levelled his vajra pestle and attacked with wild, furious blows.

This ferocious assault forced Yang Guo into constant evasion, and the gaps in his technique gradually began to show. Da’erba spotted a slight looseness in his swordplay and swung the golden pestle upward in a backhand strike. Yang Guo pulled back his hand but was too slow. Sword met pestle. Normally, when two opponents fight, their weapons colliding is routine. But the vajra pestle was far too heavy. Yang Guo’s iron sword had been dancing and spinning throughout the fight, never daring to touch the pestle. This time, the impact sent a violent shock through him, splitting the web of his thumb with searing pain. With a sharp crack, the iron sword snapped in two. Da’erba called out, “I have won!” He lowered his pestle and retreated, planting the weapon upright in the ground. He pressed his palms together and bowed. Though victorious, he would not neglect courtesy toward his eldest shixiong.

Footnotes

1. 玉蜂金针 – Yùfēng Jīnzhēn. Ancient Tomb School’s signature hidden weapon, extremely fine golden needles coated with a unique poison derived from the jade bees kept in the Ancient Tomb. ↩

2. Esoteric Buddhism (密宗). Mìzōng. Also known as Vajrayana or Tantric Buddhism, the form of Buddhism practised in Tibet and Mongolia. It emphasises mantras, mandalas, and direct transmission from master to disciple. ↩

3. Reincarnation (转世轮回). Zhuǎnshì Lúnhuí. Buddhist concept of rebirth. In Tibetan Buddhism, the recognition of reincarnated masters (tulkus) is a central tradition. Da’erba’s belief that Yang Guo is his eldest shixiong reborn exploits this doctrine. ↩

4. Five Ugly Men of Sichuan (川边五丑). Five martial artists from the Sichuan border region, known for their villainy. “ugliness” in their name refers more to their evil conduct than their physical appearance. Hong Qigong has been tracking them to eliminate them all at once. ↩

5. 经脉 – jīngmài. Literally meridians. Channels through which qi circulates. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 玉女剑法 – Yùnǚ Jiànfǎ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩