The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 13 – Part 8

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor, for his part, genuinely feared she might use sorcery. He began to mutter incantations under his breath, jabbering and gibbering, reciting the Esoteric Buddhist “Demon-Subduing, Spirit-Quelling Mantra.”¹ Yang Guo, listening nearby, understood perfectly. He assumed the monk was cursing his master in Mongolian again and hurriedly memorised every word with absolute precision. When the National Preceptor finished his incantation, he shook his golden wheel with a great clatter and barked, “Boy, stand back! I am going to attack!” These two sentences, however, he spoke in Chinese.

Yang Guo waved his hands. He dared not speak, afraid that if his attention wavered even slightly, he would forget the long passage of Mongolian he had forcibly memorised. Following the sounds precisely, he recited the incantation word for word. Huang Rong knew a little Mongolian, but what she knew was mostly military terminology and her learning was limited. These Mongol Esoteric Buddhist mantras, mixed with much Sanskrit, were completely beyond her. She merely smiled as she listened.

At that very moment, Da’erba groggily regained consciousness. He saw his master holding the golden wheel, about to fight, and then heard Yang Guo reciting the Esoteric Buddhist “Demon-Subduing, Spirit-Quelling Mantra.” This was a secret dharma of their own sect, absolutely never transmitted to outsiders. If Yang Guo was not his eldest shixiong reborn, how could he chant this mantra? In desperation, Da’erba sprang forward and knelt before his master, crying: “Master, he truly is eldest shixiong reborn! Accept him back into the sect!” The Golden Wheel National Preceptor roared, “Nonsense! You have been duped and still do not see it.” Da’erba said, “It is true, absolutely true, there can be no mistake.” The National Preceptor, seeing his disciple’s obstinate persistence, seized him by the back of the neck and hurled him across the hall. Da’erba’s body, weighing well over a hundred jin, sailed through the air as light as nothing in the National Preceptor’s grasp.

The crowd had just witnessed Da’erba’s divine strength in his battles against the Diancang Fisherman and Yang Guo. But the National Preceptor’s casual toss showed power far beyond even that. Looking at Xiaolongnü, so delicate and fragile, never mind withstanding ten of his moves, a single forceful breath from him would probably blow her over. They could not help worrying for her. Many of the Mongol warriors had seen the National Preceptor demonstrate his martial arts, truly his skill surpassed ten thousand men, his strength exceeded nine oxen. Though Xiaolongnü was an enemy, seeing her tender youth and beauty, every man felt a surge of protective pity. Even if she did possess sorcery, surely it could not match the National Preceptor’s divine arts. Secretly, they hoped he would not strike with lethal cruelty.

Yang Guo finished chanting the mantra. “Gugu,” he whispered, “be careful of this monk.” The National Preceptor, hearing him recite every word without a single error, was impressed despite himself. “Boy,” he said approvingly, “I am in your debt.” Yang Guo said, “Monk, I am in your debt.” The National Preceptor glared. “In my debt for what?” Yang Guo said, “In your debt for having the nerve to fight my master. She is a bodhisattva² reborn, with power that reaches heaven and earth, skill to subdue dragons and tigers. You would do well to be cautious.” He hoped that by planting misgivings, the monk would not dare to strike with full force, making it easier for his master to defend. But the Golden Wheel National Preceptor was a hero the likes of which Mongolia might not produce in a generation, accomplished in both civil and martial arts. How could he fall for such a ruse? “The first move is coming, little girl,” he called. “Draw your weapon!”

Yang Guo removed the golden-thread gloves and put them on his master’s hands. He saw her cheeks, fair and touched with pink, her eyes brimming with affection as she gazed at him. He could barely resist planting a deep kiss on her face, but with a heroic effort, he restrained himself and withdrew, hands at his sides. Xiaolongnü drew a snow-white silk band from her bosom and shook it out in the wind. At the end of the band was fastened a golden sphere. The sphere was hollow and contained something inside, when the band moved, the sphere rang like a bell: ding-ling, ding-ling, crisp and pleasing to the ear. The crowd saw that both combatants’ weapons were exceedingly strange. Today, they thought, we are truly opening our eyes: one weapon was extremely short, the other extremely long. One extremely hard, the other extremely soft, and, by coincidence, both made ringing sounds.

The golden wheel that the National Preceptor wielded was specially designed to seize and lock an opponent’s weapon. Blade, spear, sword, halberd, lance, hammer, whip, or cudgel, any weapon that met it was bound and helpless. An ordinary fighter, swinging a weapon forward, would hear a single clang, and the weapon would be gone from his hand. Had the National Preceptor not already seen that Yang Guo’s skills were formidable, he would never have spoken of ten moves. In his entire life, few people had ever withstood even three moves of his golden wheel.

Xiaolongnü flicked her silk band and attacked first. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor asked, “What is this thing?” He reached with his left hand to grab the band. He saw the band twisting with sinuous, darting grace and assumed its transformations would be many. His grab concealed five directions, up, down, left, right, and centre. Wherever the band dodged, it could not escape his grasp. But the small golden sphere at the end of the band rang out and rebounded, darting straight at the “Central Islet”³ acupoint on the back of his hand. The National Preceptor’s transformation was lightning-swift. He flipped his palm to grab the sphere. Xiaolongnü gave a slight flick of her wrist, and the sphere rolled over, striking upward from below at the “Joining Valley”⁴ acupoint on the tiger’s mouth of his hand. The National Preceptor flipped his palm again, this time extending his index and middle fingers to pinch the sphere. Xiaolongnü saw it clearly. She gave the band a slight forward push, and the sphere extended to strike the “Crooked Marsh”⁵ acupoint in the bend of his arm.

These several transformations took place in the space of a hand’s turning. The National Preceptor flipped his palm twice. Xiaolongnü shook her wrist three times, and five moves had already been exchanged. Yang Guo saw it clearly and counted loudly: “One, two, three, four, five… five moves! Five left.” The Golden Wheel National Preceptor had meant for Xiaolongnü to withstand ten of his offensive moves, but Yang Guo, being crafty, counted both sides’ exchanges together. The National Preceptor was a grandmaster of the martial arts. He could not stoop to quibbling over move counts with this cunning boy. He shifted his left arm slightly to evade the sphere and thrust the golden wheel straight forward.

Xiaolongnü heard a great clattering rush and saw a flash of golden light, the enemy’s golden wheel was already within a foot of her face. This was so sudden and unexpected that there was no question of parrying, even dodging was too late. In her desperation, she flicked her wrist and sent the silk band coiling around, the golden sphere shooting directly at the “Wind Pool”⁶ acupoint at the centre of the back of the National Preceptor’s skull. This was a vital point of the human body, no matter how high one’s martial arts, a solid strike there would cost one’s life. It was a desperate gamble, forcing the enemy to pull back his wheel and save himself. Sure enough, the National Preceptor was unwilling to trade lives with her. He ducked his head to evade, and that single ducking motion slowed the thrust of his wheel just enough. Xiaolongnü seized the moment to reel in her silk band. With a ringing, clattering sound, the sphere struck the wheel, deflecting the golden wheel’s attack. All this happened in a single instant, but Xiaolongnü had passed from life to death and back again. She hastily deployed her lightness skill and darted away, her face filled with terror.

The National Preceptor had only launched this one attack, but Yang Guo loudly counted: “Six, seven, eight, nine, ten… All right! My master has already withstood your ten moves. What do you have to say now?”

In that brief exchange, the National Preceptor had already determined that though this young girl’s martial arts were high, they were ultimately far, far below his own. In a formal contest, he could defeat her within ten moves. The most irritating thing was Yang Guo stirring up chaos from the sidelines, babbling nonsense, keeping him constantly unsettled. I will ignore this boy’s ravings, he thought. I will intensify my attacks and defeat this girl first, then deal with the rest. His robe-sleeves whipped up a wind, the golden wheel spun, and he launched another ferociously lethal strike. Yang Guo shouted, “Shameless! You said ten moves, and now you attack by surprise, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen…” He paid no attention to the actual number of offensive and defensive moves exchanged, simply rattling off numbers in an unbroken stream.

After withstanding that one move, Xiaolongnü was deeply afraid and dared not face a second direct attack under any circumstances. She deployed her lightness skill and flew about the hall, her silk band drifting, the golden sphere spinning rapidly, transforming into a haze of white and a streak of yellow. The golden sphere emitted ding-ding sounds, now urgent, now slow, now soft, now resonant, almost like a melody. In her idle hours in the Ancient Tomb, she had followed the qin⁷ scores left by Lin Chaoying and learned to play with considerable refinement. Later, when she practised with the silk band and golden sphere, she noticed that the sounds from the sphere had a musical quality, and with a young girl’s playfulness, she had actually woven music into her martial arts. The seasonal order of heaven and earth, the growth of plants and trees, even the pulse and breath of the human body, all contain inherent rhythm. Music is composed in accordance with the natural sounds of the universe and the body’s own cadences. Thus, melodious sounds are pleasing to the ear, and noise is grating to the mind. When martial arts are combined with music, the execution becomes softer, more measured, flowing from hand and heart.

The Ancient Tomb School’s lightness skill was the supreme art of the wulin,⁸ beyond the reach of any other school’s lightness techniques. On open plains and broad fields, its superiority was less apparent, but here within the hall, it proved incomparably graceful, endlessly variable. She had spent her entire life training inside the tomb chambers, and within a space of a zhang or so, her advances and retreats were like those of a spirit. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s martial arts far surpassed hers, but with her constant leaping and bounding, he could do nothing to her. He heard only the ding-ding of the bell, like a melody. After listening for a while, he found himself unconsciously matching his attacks to her rhythm. Alarmed, he quickly shook his golden wheel to produce a jarring noise that clashed against the bell’s music. In an instant, two sounds intertwined through the great hall, now soft, now loud, now high, now low. The bell’s ringing was crisp and clear, soothing to the heart and spirit. The clashing clamour of the golden wheel, however, was like iron being hammered, like a wok being scraped, like a pig being slaughtered, like a dog being beaten, like fleeing for one’s life, like mourning at a funeral, grotesque and grating beyond description.

Guo Jing and Huang Rong, watching from the side, both recalled their youth on Peach Blossom Island,⁹ when they had witnessed Hong Qigong, Ouyang Feng, and Huang Yaoshi¹⁰ duelling with the power of music. Thinking of it now felt like another lifetime. The two before them, though their martial arts were wondrous, fell far short of those three masters when it came to the art of musical combat. By now, Yang Guo had long since rattled past “one thousand and five, one thousand and six, one thousand and seven…” But since Xiaolongnü refused to engage the enemy directly, the National Preceptor had still not completed his ten moves. Guo Fu, who had been asleep in her mother’s arms, was jolted awake by the hideous clangour of the golden wheel. She pressed her hands over her ears and raised her head, her face full of confusion.

By now, the National Preceptor was thoroughly impatient. For a grandmaster of his stature to be unable to defeat a young girl after all this time, even if he eventually won, the loss of face would be severe. Abruptly, he stretched out his left arm, the golden wheel smashing diagonally, his palm striking upward from the lower left while the golden wheel crashed down from the upper right. After this long, darting battle, he had grasped fifty percent of Xiaolongnü’s lightness skill patterns. These two killing moves sealed both her advance and her retreat, ensuring that if she dodged the one before her, she could not evade the one behind. In her desperation, Xiaolongnü sent her silk band flying, coiling a mass of white, and sprang sharply upward. The National Preceptor spun his golden wheel and locked onto the silk band. Any ordinary weapon would have been seized and torn from her grasp, but the silk band had not a trace of rigidity and slipped lightly and easily through the wheel’s aperture. The National Preceptor barked, “That was the second move. Here comes the third!” He stepped forward and suddenly released the golden wheel, sending it flying toward Xiaolongnü.

This killing move caught absolutely everyone off guard. The golden wheel spun through the air, hurtling toward Xiaolongnü. Horrified, she crouched low and darted backward. With a clattering roar, a mass of yellow light shot past her face, missing by no more than an inch. The fierce wind scraped her delicate cheek raw. Amid the crowd’s screams, the National Preceptor lunged forward with his long arm, his palm brushing the rim of the wheel. As though alive, the golden wheel turned in midair and hurtled after Xiaolongnü once more. Seeing the terrifying momentum of the wheel’s spin, she dared not try to entangle it with her silk band and could only evade with her supreme lightness skill. The National Preceptor missed twice. “Excellent lightness skill!” he cried. He rushed forward, suddenly thrusting his left fist. clang, against the side of the wheel. At the same time, both his palms shot out, blocking Xiaolongnü’s path, while the golden wheel came clattering around from behind her head.

The wheel’s approach was not particularly fast, but the wind preceding it was already ferocious beyond measure. When the National Preceptor had struck the wheel with his fist, he had already anticipated his opponent’s evasive direction. Thus the wheel, as though it had grown eyes, traced a half-circle through the air and hurtled after her from behind. Xiaolongnü’s leap and dodge had already exhausted every technique she had ever learned, and now she saw the monk’s two palms spread wide, blocking the way before her. The heroes’ ears rang, their vision blurred, every heart was seized with terror.

Footnotes

1. “Demon-Subduing, Spirit-Quelling Mantra” (降魔伏妖咒). Xiángmó Fúyāo Zhòu. Protective Esoteric Buddhist mantra for subduing demons and quelling evil spirits. National Preceptor recites this before fighting Xiaolongnü, suspecting she may use sorcery. ↩

2. Bodhisattva (菩萨). Púsà. Enlightened being in Buddhism who delays nirvana to help others achieve liberation. Yang Guo’s claim that Xiaolongnü is a bodhisattva reborn is playful hyperbole. ↩

3. “Central Islet” acupoint (中渚穴). Zhōngzhǔ Xué. Acupoint on the back of the hand, part of the Triple Burner meridian. ↩

4. “Joining Valley” acupoint (合谷穴). Hégǔ Xué. Acupoint on the tiger’s mouth between thumb and index finger, part of the Large Intestine meridian. ↩

5. “Crooked Marsh” acupoint (曲泽穴). Qūzé Xué. Acupoint in the bend of the elbow, part of the Pericardium meridian. ↩

6. “Wind Pool” acupoint (风池穴). Fēngchí Xué. Vital acupoint at the base of the skull, part of the Gallbladder meridian. Strike here can be fatal. ↩

7. Qin (琴). Qín. Traditional Chinese seven-stringed zither, considered the most refined of musical instruments. Xiaolongnü learned to play from scores left by Lin Chaoying. ↩

8. 武林 – wǔlín. Literally martial forest. Those who actually practise, teach or study martial arts. 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. ↩

9. 桃花岛 – Táohuā Dǎo. Huang Yaoshi’s island stronghold, continued from LOCH era. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 黄药师 – Huáng Yàoshī. His name meaning “medicine master”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩