Alliance Chief of the jianghu.

The Golden Wheel National Preceptor¹ sat with his eyes half open, half shut, appearing utterly indifferent to the battle unfolding before him. In truth, he saw everything with perfect clarity. Noticing that Huo Dou² had fallen into a disadvantageous position, he suddenly spoke: “Agusijinde’er, mimahasideng, qi’er qi’er hu!”³ None of the onlookers understood what these Mongolian words meant, but Huo Dou knew his master was reminding him not to cling solely to defence, he must use the “Violent Gale Thunder Skill”⁴ to seize the offensive. Immediately he let out a long howl, his right fan and left sleeve whipping up a fierce gust of wind as he lunged at Zhu Ziliu.⁵

The force of the gale was fierce and sharp. The spectators found themselves backing away without realising it. From Huo Dou’s mouth came a continuous thunderous bellowing to bolster his attack, and they understood that this Violent Gale Thunder Skill, beyond its weapons and fist-and-foot techniques, employed roaring cries as a formidable method of subduing the enemy. Zhu Ziliu, however, wielded his brush with sweeping flourishes, advancing and retreating at will, holding his own against the onslaught.

The two men battled through more than a hundred moves. Zhu Ziliu was nearing the end of his “Self-Statement”⁶ transcription when his brushwork suddenly changed. His strokes slowed, turning thin and hard, rich with archaic spirit. Huang Rong⁷ murmured to herself: “The ancients said, ‘Only when lean and hard can one penetrate the divine.’ This set, the ‘Baoxie Road Stone Inscriptions’⁸, is truly a wonder the ages have never seen.”

Huo Dou continued to counter with the Violent Gale Thunder Skill, but as his opponent’s power intensified, he put more force into his fan and his shouts grew even fiercer. Those among the spectators with weaker martial arts could no longer keep their footing in the main hall and retreated step by step into the courtyard.

Huang Rong noticed Yang Guo⁹ and Xiaolongnü¹⁰ sitting side by side against a pillar, little more than a zhang¹¹ from the two men locked in mortal combat. They leaned against each other, whispering softly, paying not the slightest attention to the duel. The sash of Xiaolongnü’s robe fluttered wildly in the fierce wind, yet she remained perfectly composed, gazing at Yang Guo with eyes full of tender affection. The more Huang Rong watched, the more curious she became. Before long, she found herself studying the two of them more than Huo Dou and Zhu Ziliu. This young girl seems to possess high-level martial arts, she thought. Guoer is so intimate with her. I wonder which great master she studied under.

Xiaolongnü was now past twenty, but because she had grown up inside the Ancient Tomb,¹² never seeing sunlight, her skin remained delicate and youthful, and her beauty-preserving neili¹³ was highly cultivated, so she looked no older than sixteen or seventeen. Before meeting Yang Guo, she had rarely experienced joy, anger, grief, or pleasure, the seven emotions and six desires¹⁴ are what most damage the body and age the face, and for her, two years passed as one. Had she truly followed her master’s teachings and cultivated her heart in purity, not only could she have expected to live past a hundred, but at that age her physical strength and appearance would still have been no less than a fifty-year-old’s. Thus, in Huang Rong’s eyes, she seemed even younger than Yang Guo, and her manner, childlike, unpolished, innocent and pure, was even more pronounced than Guo Fu’s.¹⁵ No wonder Huang Rong took her for a little girl.

Yang Guo gazed at Xiaolongnü and saw that her hair had come loose. He gently reached out to smooth it, pulled out the thornwood hairpin¹⁶ from her hair, tidied her locks, and replaced the pin. Xiaolongnü said, “Guoer,¹⁷ all the way here searching for you, I never bothered with my hair. No one was looking at me anyway. I only love it when you look at me. When you are not beside me to look at me, I am unhappy. When I could not find you, I cried. I cried so sadly. You were bad. You did not come to comfort me.” As she spoke, her upper body swayed slightly, as though she were acting coquettish.

When Xiaolongnü was very young, her master had taught her never to stir her emotions. Crying was forbidden, and so was laughing, in all things she was to remain blank and still, her heart like water without a ripple. Grandma Sun,¹⁸ following the school’s teachings, had likewise never allowed Xiaolongnü to express joy or sorrow. As a result, from childhood she had never learned to plead for anything, much less had any opportunity to act spoiled or petulant toward her master or Grandma Sun. After she became Yang Guo’s teacher, she maintained the dignity of her station, her expression solemn. When Yang Guo joked and laughed, though she found it amusing, she never laughed or responded. But for a young woman to act coy in order to win a lover’s affection is an instinct born with her, even a girl of five or six will coo and pout at her parents without ever being taught. Once Xiaolongnü left the Ancient Tomb, her heart and mind were wholly set on loving Yang Guo. She had long since cast her master’s old teachings to the farthest clouds. She now followed her nature: happy when she wished to be happy, sad when she wished to be sad, no longer forcing herself to restrain the natural feelings of her heart. Seeing how dear and lovable she looked, Yang Guo tightened his left arm around her shoulder and said, “Guoer was wrong not to come and comfort you.” He took her right hand with his own and gently patted it against his cheek. “Hit this bad boy.”

Xiaolongnü asked, “After you lost me, how many times a day did you think of me?” Yang Guo said, “After you left, I came out to search for you. From morning to night, I searched, calling out: ‘Gugu,¹⁹ Gugu!’” Xiaolongnü smiled faintly. “So did you think of me or not?” Yang Guo said, “Of course I did. At least two hundred times a day.” Xiaolongnü said, “Two hundred is not enough. I want three hundred.” Yang Guo said, “I thought of you four hundred times a day, two hundred in the morning, and two hundred more in the afternoon.” Xiaolongnü said, “When you ate, you thought of me too. That is one hundred more, five hundred times a day.” Yang Guo said, “When I ate, I did think of you. I was so lost in thought that noodles went up my nose.” Xiaolongnü burst out laughing. “That must have felt awful.” Yang Guo said, “I did not care. I sniffed with my nose, sucked the noodles from my nostril into my mouth, and swallowed them down.” Xiaolongnü pursed her lips. “Oh, that is filthy!” Yang Guo said, “Not filthy, not filthy. I have eaten noodles that way since I was little. It tastes rather good, actually. When I thought of you at meals, I would murmur ‘Gugu, Gugu’ with my mouth, and since my mouth was busy, I used my nose to eat noodles.” Xiaolongnü was deeply moved. “Guoer is so good! When you could not sleep at night, that is another hundred times.”

Yang Guo said, “Not sleeping at night will not do. I have to sleep so I can dream, so that every night I dream of you, holding you tight, saying: ‘My darling, my sweet little wife, I want you to be my wife!’ Calling you and kissing your face, and kissing your beautiful eyes.” Xiaolongnü sighed. “You said you want me to be your wife, that is so good. Of course I want to be. Then in your dreams you think of me too, that is another hundred times. In the future, if we are apart, you must think of me at least six hundred times a day.” Yang Guo said, “From now on, we will never be apart. If we really must be, I will think of you seven hundred times a day.” Xiaolongnü said, “Eight hundred!” Yang Guo said, “Nine hundred!” Xiaolongnü said, “A thousand!” Yang Guo’s heart blazed with passion. He could barely resist pulling her close and kissing her. But with a hall full of watching eyes, and having grown up to the age of ten and more in the world of men, he felt it improper and forced himself to hold back. Yet he could feel Xiaolongnü’s body growing warm against his.

When Xiaolongnü was small, her master and Grandma Sun, though they loved her, had never shown it, always treating her with cold reserve. Only now, with Yang Guo, did she receive such boundless affection and tender care, an experience she had never known. The joy and sweetness in her heart were truly beyond words. Her whole body softened, and she leaned against him.

At this moment, the two combatants in the centre of the hall had reached a critical stage. Zhu Ziliu’s brushwork grew uglier and more awkward with every stroke, yet the power behind it steadily intensified. His strokes were like spider-silk clinging to a wall: forceful yet empty. Huo Dou was secretly alarmed and found the patterns increasingly difficult to read. The Golden Wheel National Preceptor shouted, “Mami bami, gusi heisi.”²⁰ No one knew what these eight words meant, but they made every ear in the hall ring. Zhu Ziliu grew agitated. If he changes his technique again, he thought, who knows when this fight will end? I, a former prime minister of the Dali Kingdom,²¹ fighting the opening bout for the Great Song²². I absolutely must not lose and bring shame upon my nation and my master. Suddenly his brushwork shifted again. He no longer wielded the brush as though writing characters, but as though holding an axe and chisel, carving into stone.

Guo Fu noticed this too. “Uncle Zhu is engraving characters?” she asked.

Huang Rong smiled. “My daughter is not so foolish after all. This set of finger techniques is the Stone Drum Script.²³ They are characters carved into stone drums with axes and chisels during the Spring and Autumn period.²⁴ See if you can read what Uncle Zhu is engraving.” Guo Fu followed the brush strokes with her eyes but saw only tangled, coiling lines that looked like little pictures. She could not make out a single character. Huang Rong laughed. “This is the most ancient form of great seal script.²⁵ No wonder you cannot read it. I cannot recognise all of it either.” Guo Fu clapped her hands and laughed. “That Mongol fool certainly will not be able to. Mother, look at him, sweating all over, flailing around in a panic!”

Indeed, Huo Dou could recognise only one or two characters of this ancient seal script. Not knowing what characters his opponent was writing, he naturally could not guess the structure and stroke patterns, and he struggled to defend himself. Zhu Ziliu wrote out character after character. The text itself was ancient and profound, and the Yiyang Finger²⁶ that formed the basis of his calligraphy correspondingly grew in power. Huo Dou swept his fan out, but was a moment too slow pulling it back. Zhu Ziliu flicked his brush and inscribed a great-seal character upon the fan.

Huo Dou stared. “Is that the character for ‘net’?” he asked blankly.

Zhu Ziliu laughed. “No, that is the character for ‘thou.’”²⁷ Immediately he extended his brush and wrote another character on the fan. Huo Dou said, “That must be the character for ‘moon’?” Zhu Ziliu shook his head. “Wrong. That is the character for ‘art.’”²⁸ Huo Dou was thoroughly dispirited. He shook his fan, trying to evade the brush tip and prevent further inscriptions, but unexpectedly Zhu Ziliu launched a fierce attack with his left palm. Huo Dou hurriedly raised his palm to parry, only for the brush to slip through his guard and inscribe two more characters. Zhu Ziliu wrote too quickly to use great seal script and used cursive²⁹ instead. These, Huo Dou could read. “Barbarian!” he cried.

金轮国师 – Jīnlún Guóshī. Mongol Empire’s national teacher and martial arts adept. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
Huo Dou (霍都). Huò Dōu. Golden Wheel National Preceptor’s third disciple, a Mongol prince. Cunning and ruthless, he uses a folding fan with hidden poison darts. ↩
Mongolian battle command. National Preceptor speaks in Mongolian, which Jin Yong renders phonetically. Actual meaning is not given but is understood by his disciples as tactical instruction. ↩
Violent Gale Thunder Skill (狂风迅雷功). Kuángfēng Xùnléi Gōng. Mongolian Vajra Sect martial art that combines fierce attacks with thunderous battle cries to intimidate and overpower opponents. ↩
朱子柳 – Zhū Zǐliǔ. His name meaning “master willow”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
Autobiography (自言帖). Famous piece of cursive calligraphy by the Tang dynasty “Sage of Cursive Script”, Zhang Xu. ↩
黄蓉 – Huáng Róng. Her name meaning “lotus” or “hibiscus”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
Baoxie Road Stone Inscriptions (褒斜道石刻). Bāoxié Dào Shíkè. Ancient stone carvings along the Baoxie Plank Road, featuring calligraphy in the “lean and hard” style praised by the ancients. Quote “Only when lean and hard can one penetrate the divine” (瘦硬方通神) refers to this calligraphic aesthetic. ↩
杨过 – Yáng Guò. His name meaning “fault or transgression”; his courtesy name Gaizhi means “to correct it”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
小龙女 – Xiǎolóngnǚ. Literally little dragon maiden. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
丈 – zhàng. Traditional Chinese unit of length, approximately 3.33 metres or 10.9 feet. ↩
古墓 – Gǔmù. Underground tomb complex beneath Zhongnan Mountain, home of the Ancient Tomb School. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
Beauty-preserving neili (驻颜内功). Ancient Tomb School’s internal cultivation methods preserve youthfulness. Combined with the absence of sunlight and suppressed emotions, practitioners age at roughly half the normal rate. ↩
Seven emotions and six desires (七情六欲). Qīqíng Liùyù. In traditional Chinese thought: the seven emotions are joy, anger, grief, fear, love, hate, and desire; the six desires arise from the six senses. Suppressing these was key to the Ancient Tomb School’s cultivation. ↩
郭芙 – Guō Fú. Her name meaning “lotus”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
Thornwood hairpin (荆钗). Jīngchāi. Simple hairpin made from thornwood, symbolising the austere, unadorned lifestyle of the Ancient Tomb School. Xiaolongnü wears no jewellery or ornamentation. ↩
过儿 – Guò’ér. Affectionate diminutive of Yang Guo’s name, with the diminutive suffix -er indicating affection or familiarity. ↩
Grandma Sun (孙婆婆). Elderly caretaker of the Ancient Tomb who rescued Yang Guo when he fled the Quanzhen Order. She was killed by Hao Datong while protecting Yang Guo, and with her dying breath she entrusted him to Xiaolongnü’s care. ↩
Gugu (姑姑) — Literally “paternal aunt,” but used here as a term of respectful address for a young woman of the older generation. Yang Guo uses this to address Xiaolongnü, his shifu. ↩
Mongolian battle command. Second phonetic Mongolian utterance from the National Preceptor during combat; the heroes do not understand the words, but Huo Dou and other disciples recognise them as tactical instruction. ↩
大理 – Dàlǐ. Historical kingdom in present-day Yunnan Province (937–1253), contemporaneous with the Song dynasty. In the Condor Trilogy it is associated with the Duan imperial family and Great Master Yideng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
Great Song (大宋). Song dynasty (960–1279), the Han Chinese empire facing Mongol invasion from the north. ↩
Stone Drum Script (石鼓文). Shígǔwén. Oldest known Chinese stone inscriptions, dating to the Spring and Autumn period (c. 770-476 BCE). Carved on drum-shaped stones in great seal script, they are considered the origin of Chinese calligraphy. ↩
Spring and Autumn period (春秋). Chūnqiū. Era of Chinese history (c. 770-476 BCE) named after the Spring and Autumn Annals. Time of warfare among feudal states, it was also the golden age of Chinese philosophy. ↩
Great seal script (大篆). Dàzhuàn. Ancient form of Chinese writing predating the Qin dynasty unification of scripts. Its characters are highly pictographic and difficult for later readers to recognise. ↩
一阳指 – Yīyáng Zhǐ. Literally One Yang Finger. Dali Duan family’s signature finger technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
‘Thou’ character (尔). Ěr. Archaic classical Chinese second-person pronoun. Ancient seal script form bears a superficial resemblance to the character for “net” (网), which is why Huo Dou misidentifies it. ↩
‘Art’ character (乃). Nǎi. Another archaic classical Chinese word. In ancient seal script, it somewhat resembles the character for “moon” (月), leading to Huo Dou’s second mistake. ↩
Cursive Script (草书). Highly abbreviated, flowing style of Chinese calligraphy where characters are written with swift, connected strokes. Most expressive and individualistic of the major scripts. ↩

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