The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 15 – Part 7
Translation by Jenxi Seow
Talking as they went, the five of them came round behind the hill. Beside a big tree stood a small thatched cottage, ramshackle and run-down, its wicker door shut tight. Pinned to the door was a sheet of white paper bearing sixteen large characters in four lines:
“The Master of Peach Blossom Island, disciples in great number; five against one, a laughingstock to the jianghu!”
Huang Yaoshi laughed. He picked up two pebbles from the ground, set them between thumb and middle finger, and flicked. With a hiss the two pebbles shot forward, and with a crack the two plank doors, more than ten paces away, were knocked open by those two tiny stones. On Peach Blossom Island Yang Guo had heard Guo Fu speak of her grandfather’s skill at the Divine Finger Flick,1 and seeing it with his own eyes today, he found it surpassed even its fame. He was lost in admiration.
As the doors flew open they saw Li Mochou sitting upright on a prayer cushion, whisk in hand, eyes lowered and closed, deep in meditation. The light of her spirit was gathered inward, her bearing solemn and serene, for all the world a woman who had attained the Dao. She was alone in the hut. Hong Lingbo2 was not with her. In a flash Yang Guo understood. She mocks Island Master Huang for having so many disciples and overwhelming a lone opponent with numbers, so she’s even sent Hong Lingbo far away. What she’s counting on isn’t that she can beat Island Master Huang. It’s that while she’s alone, Island Master Huang’s standing won’t let him lay a finger on her.
Lu Wushuang thought of her parents’ murder, and of all she had suffered these past years, swallowing wrong and humiliation, and she whipped out her long jian. “Cousin, Fool,” she cried, “the Island Master doesn’t need to lift a hand. The three of us will fight her to the death.” Shagu rubbed her fists together eagerly. “And me too!” Li Mochou opened her eyes and swept them over the five faces with open contempt, then closed them again, as though she gave not the slightest thought to the formidable enemies before her. Cheng Ying looked to her shifu, waiting for his word.
Huang Yaoshi sighed. “Old Heretic Huang does indeed have disciples in great number. If even one of my four great disciples, Qu, Chen, Mei or Lu, were here, would she dare talk so?” He waved his hand. “Let’s go back.” None of the four understood what he meant, but they followed him back to the cottage. He was gloomy and out of sorts, and without eating any supper he went to bed.
Yang Guo lay on the bed beside his, going over what Shagu had said that day and turning over the look on Li Mochou’s face. He thought, She mocks us for fighting five against one. My wounds are healed now, and on my own I might not lose to her. Why not slip out and fight it out with her by myself? First, I can wipe out the shame of her insult to my aunt. Second, I can let the Island Master vent his anger. His mind made up, he quietly put on his clothes. Wilful as he was, he went about things with care, and he knew Li Mochou was a truly formidable enemy. One slip and his life would be in her hands. So he sat cross-legged on the bed, cultivating his qi and regulating his breath, to build up his strength before he went to fight her to the death.
He had sat for about half a watch of the night when suddenly it seemed that light was blazing before his eyes. There was qi in every limb and every bone of his body, and a sound burst from his mouth before he could stop it, like a dragon roaring over a great marsh, a tiger howling in a deep valley, carrying far into the distance. Huang Yaoshi had known all along that he had got up and dressed. When he heard this strange sound, he had never expected Yang Guo’s neigong to have come so far, and he was astonished and delighted at once.
When a man’s neigong reaches a certain level, he will often give out a strange cry without knowing it. Later, in the Ming dynasty, the great Confucian Wang Yangming was cultivating his qi in an army camp at midnight when he could not help letting out a long, ringing cry, and the whole army was startled. That is a matter of historical record. Now Yang Guo’s qi was so abundant that he suddenly could not hold it in, and his cry could be heard for several li. Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang were of course amazed, and even Li Mochou, behind the hill, was secretly alarmed when she heard it. But she supposed it must be Huang Yaoshi breathing his qi in and out, and since he would not strike at her in any case, she had nothing to fear. She never dreamed that Yang Guo had benefited from the Cold Jade Bed and learned the secrets of both the Jade Maiden Heart Sutra and the Nine Yin Manual, and that his neigong had built up a deep store. When Huang Yaoshi had treated his wounds a few days before, the Master of Peach Blossom Island’s neigong had taken a path wholly different from his own, and roused by that incomparably deep neili, Yang Guo had let out this long cry despite himself.
The cry went on for about as long as it takes to eat a meal before it slowly died away. Huang Yaoshi thought, I count myself a genius such as the age seldom sees, yet I didn’t reach this stage until I was past thirty. This boy is more than ten years ahead of me. What strange fortune can he have met with? When Yang Guo had breathed out and risen, Huang Yaoshi asked, “What would you say is Li Mochou’s most formidable skill?”
At this question Yang Guo knew that his plan had been seen through. “The Scarlet Serpent Divine Palm,” he answered, “and what she does with her whisk.” “Correct,” said Huang Yaoshi. “With a foundation of neigong like yours, breaking her prize skills won’t be hard.” Yang Guo was overjoyed, and before he knew it he was on his knees, bowing. He had always been very proud. He acknowledged Huang Yaoshi as a senior and knew that his martial arts were profound and his esoteric learning divine, but he had refused to bow his head to him. Now, hearing that the skills Li Mochou had used to lord it over the world could be broken with ease, how could he not submit?
Early next morning Huang Yaoshi called Cheng Ying and had Yang Guo learn the Divine Finger Flick together with her. Cheng Ying had been taught the skill by her shifu but had never gone deeply into it, and this time Huang Yaoshi concentrated on how to use it to overcome the Scarlet Serpent Divine Palm. Then he taught the two of them a style of swordplay drawn from his jade flute, to break her whisk.
Yang Guo listened to the secrets he pointed out and asked about every difficulty and doubt, then set his whole mind to committing it all to memory. But both skills were deep and subtle, and by his reckoning it would be a year at least before he had even a little success with them, and three years before he could be sure of victory. “Island Master Huang,” he said, “there’s no way at all to beat her straight away.”
“Three years will pass in the blink of an eye,” said Huang Yaoshi. “By then you’ll be twenty-one or twenty-two, and to have mastered such martial arts at that age, is that not enough for you?” “I… I wasn’t thinking of myself…” said Yang Guo. Huang Yaoshi patted his shoulder and said gently, “If you kill her for me three years from now, I shall be very much obliged. I destroyed my own worthy disciples long ago. Shouldn’t I suffer a little retribution for it today?” He heaved a long, sad sigh. Memories of his disciples came back to him, and he could not help grieving, and blaming and reproaching himself all over again.
Cheng Ying went over, took his hand, and called softly and tenderly, “Shifu!” Tears glistened in Huang Yaoshi’s eyes. He forced a smile. “Well, well! Old Heretic Huang’s luck isn’t so bad. I still have my little disciple!”
Yang Guo knelt down, bowed eight times and said, “Shifu!” He knew that Huang Yaoshi was teaching him martial arts so that he could wipe out, on his behalf, the insult of the sixteen characters on Li Mochou’s notice, and for that there had to be the formal tie of shifu and disciple.
But Huang Yaoshi knew how deep his bond with the Ancient Tomb School was, and that he would never willingly take another shifu. He reached out and raised him up. “When you fight that fiend, you’re my disciple. The rest of the time you’re my friend. Brother Yang, do you understand?” Yang Guo laughed. “To have a grandmaster of the martial arts like you for a friend is great good luck indeed.” Huang Yaoshi laughed. “Meeting you has been my good fortune too, three lifetimes over.” The two of them clapped their hands and laughed till the walls rang.
Then Huang Yaoshi explained the deepest secrets of the Divine Finger Flick and the Jade Flute Swordplay in fine detail. Hearing him go over everything so thoroughly, Yang Guo knew he was about to leave. “We’ve known each other such a short time, and already we must part,” he said sadly. “Who knows when we’ll meet again?” Huang Yaoshi laughed. “You and I are true to each other, heart and liver. Even at opposite ends of the earth, we’ll be as good as neighbours. If ever I hear that someone is standing in the way of your marriage, I’ll come to help you, even from ten thousand li away.” With this promise from him, given with a thump of the chest, Yang Guo was greatly comforted. He laughed. “I’m afraid the first one to come forward and stop it will be your own daughter.”
“She married the man she wanted herself,” said Huang Yaoshi, “and now she has no thought for anyone else’s pangs of longing? This treasure of a daughter of mine thinks of nothing but her husband. Heh, ‘once married, obey your husband’, the Three Obediences and Four Virtues,3 how very admirable!” He laughed loudly, shook out his robe and went out of the door, and in a moment his laughter was several hundred feet away. Truly he went like a divine dragon, soaring and twisting, and no one could tell where.
Yang Guo sat dazed for a long while, going over in his mind the secrets of what he had just learned. After the midday meal he and Cheng Ying worked together on the Jade Flute Swordplay, and before they knew it they had brought in some of the mutual guarding methods of the Jade Maiden Heart Sutra. “Cheng shijie,” said Yang Guo, “once the two of us have mastered this swordplay, we can join forces and kill Li Mochou and make Shifu happy.” Cheng Ying gave a sweet smile. “So you call me shijie?” Yang Guo laughed. “Whoever comes through the gate first is the senior. Of course you’re my shijie.” Cheng Ying smiled. “Madam Guo is my real shijie.” Seeing her sweet, lovely face, Yang Guo could not help saying, “Then I should call you ‘Aunt’.” Cheng Ying’s face grew serious. “You already have an aunt of your own.” Seeing how grave she looked, Yang Guo dared say no more.
The next morning, just as Yang Guo had risen, the plank door suddenly swung open. Cheng Ying walked in, holding a long blue cloth gown in her hands. She smiled faintly and said, “Try this on. See if it fits.” Yang Guo was deeply grateful. His hands trembled slightly as he took it.
His eyes met Cheng Ying’s, and he saw in them a quiet, unspoken love and boundless tenderness. He went over to the bed and changed into the new gown. Body, waist and sleeves, it fitted perfectly. “I… I… I really do thank you,” he said. Cheng Ying gave another sweet smile, but a sad look followed it at once. She sighed. “Shifu has gone, and who knows when we’ll see him again.” She was about to sit down and talk when she saw a flash of yellow outside the door that vanished at once, and knew it was her cousin out there. The minx has too many notions in her head, she thought. I’d better not stay long in his room. She rose and walked slowly out.
Yang Guo examined the new gown. The stitches were tiny and close-set, and his heart stirred, She treats me like this, and my wife treats me so well too, but my heart was given long ago, and I’m honour-bound to look nowhere else. If I don’t leave soon, I’ll only bring everyone grief. He sat lost in thought for a long while. Then, afraid that Li Mochou might suddenly attack once he was gone, he went alone round the hill to look over the hut where she had been staying. All he found was a patch of scorched earth. The hut had burned to ashes. Li Mochou had set fire to it and gone.
With the great enemy gone, that night he sat by the lamp to write a letter of farewell. But thinking of how both the girls felt for him, he could not help feeling sad. Then too, he saw that his sentences had no grace and his writing was clumsy, and Cheng Ying would be sure to laugh at it. He wrote half a letter and tore it up. That night he tossed and turned and could not sleep.
He had drifted into a doze when he heard Lu Wushuang pounding on the door outside. “Fool, Fool! Get up, quick, and look.” Her voice was full of alarm. Yang Guo got up, threw on his clothes, opened the door and went out. The dawn breeze was blowing, with a faint chill in it, and it was not yet fully light. Lu Wushuang’s face was full of fear. She pointed at the wicker door. Yang Guo followed her finger and started. Stamped on the door were four blood-red handprints. Plainly Li Mochou had come to spy out the land in the night, found that Huang Yaoshi was gone, and was announcing that she meant to kill all four of them.
Footnotes
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弹指神通 – Tánzhǐ Shéntōng. Huang Yaoshi’s signature finger technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
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洪凌波 – Hóng Língbō. Her name meaning “treading the waves”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩
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三从四德 – Three Obediences and Four Virtues. Set of Confucian ethical codes for women. Three Obediences dictate that a woman should obey her father before marriage, her husband after marriage, and her son after her husband’s death. Four Virtues are morality, proper speech, modest manner, and diligent work. Huang Yaoshi’s sarcastic invocation of these reflects his lifelong contempt for Confucian orthodoxy. ↩
