The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 15 – Part 9

Old Feng said, “The Master of Peach Blossom Island possesses abilities that reach Heaven and penetrate Earth. Any disciple who learns even a single art from him can dominate the jianghu. His first disciple, Qu Lingfeng, he moved like the wind, his martial skills unfathomably versatile, a master of the Iron Eight Trigrams Divine Skill.¹ His second disciple, Chen Xuanfeng, his entire body was bronze sinew and iron bone, impervious to blade and spear. Have you heard of them?” As he spoke, he continued hammering, blow after blow, the clanging of the iron lending force to his words.

When he mentioned Qu Lingfeng and Chen Xuanfeng, Li Mochou was startled, but Yang Guo and the others were even more taken aback. They would never have imagined that an old blacksmith in a poor, remote village would know of these figures from the Jiangnan jianghu. Li Mochou said, “Hah! According to jianghu rumor, Qu Lingfeng ‘moved like the wind’, and was killed by Imperial Guard officers. Copper Corpse Chen Xuanfeng, I heard, was stabbed to death by a mere child. What was so impressive about that? And ‘impervious to blade and spear’, what outrageous boasting!”

Old Feng said, “Mm, mm. The Master of Peach Blossom Island’s third disciple was called Mei Chaofeng. Though a woman, her finger technique was formidable and her whip technique extraordinary.” Li Mochou gave a cold laugh. “Yes, yes. This woman’s finger technique was so formidable that the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan first blinded her, and then Western Venom Ouyang Feng shattered her heart and lungs.”

Old Feng stood frozen for a long moment. Mournfully, he said, “Such things happened? I did not know. The Peach Blossom Island Master’s fourth disciple, Lu Chengfeng, his qinggong was divine, his Splitting Air Palm² fierce beyond compare.” Li Mochou said, “Someone had both his legs broken and could not walk, that would be this Lu Chengfeng of the ‘divine qinggong.’ Qinggong without legs, hah, all he could do was ride the wind. And as for the Splitting Air Palm being ‘fierce beyond compare’, every palm he struck hit nothing but air. That is the Splitting Air Palm of Peach Blossom Island.”

Old Feng lowered his head. Sss, sss, two drops of water fell onto the glowing iron and vanished in twin plumes of steam. Lu Wushuang was sitting closest to him and saw clearly: they were tears falling from his eyes. She was secretly astonished. The old man raised his hammer even higher, and the sound of its falling grew even louder.

After a while, Old Feng spoke again. “Lu Chengfeng was not only a master of martial arts but also skilled in the esoteric arts of qimen dunjia. If you had encountered him, you would certainly not have fared well.” Li Mochou sneered. “What use is qimen dunjia? He built a Returning Cloud Manor by the shores of Lake Tai, which the heroes of the jianghu praised as wonderfully mysterious, yet someone burned it to white ashes with a single fire. He himself has had no trace ever since, and most likely was burned to death in that very fire.”

Old Feng said, “The Master of Peach Blossom Island’s only beloved daughter serves as the Chief of the Beggars’ Guild. Chief Huang’s marvelous stratagems are unmatched. Her might shakes the world. The moment she makes a move, she would send you tumbling head over heels ten times over.” Li Mochou said, “Hah! That little Huang Rong has no real skill herself, she merely relies on her husband Guo Jing to put on a show of strength. And her position as Beggars’ Guild Chief is only propped up by her shifu, Northern Beggar Hong Qigong.”

Old Feng raised his head and said sternly, “You Daoist nun speak nonsense. Every disciple of the Peach Blossom Island Master is supremely skilled in martial arts, each ten times your superior. Do you think you can deceive a country villager who knows nothing of the world?” Li Mochou sneered. “Ask these three little brats and you’ll learn the truth.”

Old Feng turned his gaze to Cheng Ying, his eyes questioning. Cheng Ying rose and said sorrowfully, “My school has suffered misfortune. Its talents have withered. This junior entered the school late and her skills are meagre. I cannot win honour for my shifu. I am truly ashamed. Might you, Old Master, have some past connection with my shifu?” Old Feng did not answer. He studied her from head to toe and asked, “The Peach Blossom Island Master took another disciple in his later years?”

Cheng Ying looked at Old Feng’s crippled left foot, and a thought suddenly stirred in her heart. She said, “My master grew lonely in his old age and ordered this junior to attend upon him. A junior of such youth and shallow learning as myself dare not truly claim to be a disciple of Peach Blossom Island. I am merely a little maid who serves tea and water at Old Master Huang’s side. What is more, to this day, this junior has not even had the fortune to set foot on Peach Blossom Island.” By saying this, she was also acknowledging that she was a Peach Blossom Island disciple.

Old Feng nodded. His gaze was exceedingly gentle, full of a sense of kinship. He lowered his head and hammered a few more times, as though lost in thought. Cheng Ying saw his hammer trace a half-circle in the air, and when it landed on the anvil, it struck with a sideways drag, a motion strikingly similar to the Peach Blossom Falling Petals Palm technique³ of their school. In her heart, she grew three parts more certain. She said, “When my shifu had idle moments, he would talk with this junior. He said that when he drove his disciples from the island all those years ago, Chen and Mei brought it upon themselves, that goes without saying. But the four. Qu, Lu, Wu, and Feng, were innocently caught up in it. Especially that Feng Mofeng⁴, his youngest disciple brother, who had always been the most respectful and obedient, and whose life had been so pitiable. When Master thinks of him, he is often troubled and sorrowful, weeping alone, filled with deep regret. He says he wronged him terribly and only regrets that he never had the chance to make amends.”

In truth, Huang Yaoshi’s temperament was perverse. Even if he felt such things in his heart, he would never speak of them aloud. It was simply that Cheng Ying was gentle and perceptive, good at reading her shifu’s moods. When Huang Yaoshi, in his loneliness, talked with her, he would occasionally let slip a hint, and she had vaguely guessed the rest. Though her words were not a verbatim report of her shifu’s speech, they did not violate his true intent.

Li Mochou, listening to their exchange and observing their expressions, had already guessed eight or nine parts of the truth. She saw Old Feng let out a long sigh, tears streaming down like rain. As they fell onto the glowing iron. sss, sss, sss, they all turned to white mist. Even she could not help feeling a pang of sympathy. But in the space of a thought, her heart hardened once more. She thought, Even if they have gained another helper, this old blacksmith is a cripple, what help can he be? She said coldly, “Feng Mofeng, congratulations on your reunion as shixiong and sister.”

This old blacksmith was indeed Huang Yaoshi’s youngest disciple, Feng Mofeng. Years ago, when Chen Xuanfeng and Mei Chaofeng stole the Nine Yin Manual and fled, Huang Yaoshi had vented his fury on his remaining disciples, breaking their legs and expelling them from Peach Blossom Island. Qu Lingfeng had been expelled even earlier. Lu Chengfeng and Wu Gangfeng both had both legs broken. When it came to Feng Mofeng, seeing that he was young and his martial arts still weak, Huang Yaoshi had been suddenly moved to pity and broke only his left leg. Heartbroken, Feng Mofeng had travelled far to the region between the Xiang and Han rivers, earning his living as a blacksmith in this countryside, cutting off all contact with figures of the jianghu. He had lived there for more than thirty years, obscure and unknown. Never had he imagined that today he would once again hear news of his school. His very life had been saved by Huang Yaoshi, who had rescued him from the clutches of a local tyrant when he was a child. Raised from youth by his shifu’s nurturing hand, his debt of gratitude was profound beyond measure. No matter how Huang Yaoshi had treated him, he harbored no resentment. Now, hearing Cheng Ying’s words, a hundred emotions welled up in him, and sorrow surged from his heart. He said, “Little Shi-mei, is our shifu, the Old Master, in good health?” Cheng Ying said, “He is well.” Feng Mofeng said slowly, “Our shifu’s kindness is weighty as a mountain. Even if his disciple were ground to powder, he could not repay it. Since Master has spoken such words, he no longer blames me. As for making amends, there is no need. Hearing this, I can die content.”

Footnotes

1. 铁八卦神功 – Tiě Bāguà Shéngōng. Qu Lingfeng’s signature martial art. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 劈空掌 – Pīkōng Zhǎng. Palm technique that projects neili through the air. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 桃花落英掌 – Táohuā Luòyīng Zhǎng. Huang Yaoshi’s signature palm technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 冯默风 – Féng Mòfēng. Huang Yaoshi’s sixth disciple, the Smith. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩