The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 16 – Part 4

On the summit stood a little thatched shelter, open to the wind on every side. State Preceptor Jinlun sat inside in meditation, eyes closed and brows lowered. Da’erba put the wild fruit down on the floor of the shelter, turned round, and suddenly saw Yang Guo approaching. The colour drained from his face. “Eldest shixiong,” he cried, “have you come to harm Shifu?” He rushed at Yang Guo and grabbed for the front of his robe. Da’erba’s martial arts were in fact better than Yang Guo’s, but his shifu was in a perilous state at this moment, and the least disturbance from outside could cost him his life on the spot. In his panic Da’erba lost his head, his move fell into utter disorder, and he broke the first law of martial arts. Yang Guo caught the back of his hand in a reverse lock, drew him in, pushed him on, and sent him flying.

Da’erba was convinced in his heart that Yang Guo was his eldest shixiong reborn, and the throw had already cowed him. He rolled over on the ground, scrambled up and sprang in front of Yang Guo. Yang Guo thought he was about to attack again and stepped back, but Da’erba suddenly dropped to his knees and kowtowed. “Eldest shixiong,” he said, “you must remember the bond with your Kind Master¹ in your former life. Shifu is gravely wounded and is healing himself by circulating his neili. If you disturb him, then… then…” By the end his throat was choked and tears were streaming down his face. Yang Guo did not understand his Mongolian, but from Da’erba’s agitation and the State Preceptor’s haggard face he had grasped most of it. He hurriedly helped Da’erba up. “I will never harm your shifu,” he said. Da’erba saw the kindness in his face, and though he did not understand the words, his hostility melted away.

At that moment State Preceptor Jinlun opened his eyes, saw Yang Guo and was badly shaken. He had been deep in meditation, circulating his neili, and had heard nothing of what passed between Yang Guo and Da’erba. Finding a great enemy suddenly before him, he heaved a long sigh and said slowly, “All these years of cultivation have been in vain. I never could see through the snare of fame, and now I am to die here in the Central Plains.” The great boulder had struck him and badly injured his organs, and for days now he had been living in a hut on this desolate mountaintop, nursing his wounds. He had never expected Yang Guo to track him here. As things stood he could not exert the least strength, and even if Da’erba drove Yang Guo off, the fight would disturb his concentration and his grave injuries would hardly heal.

But Yang Guo bowed and gave a respectful greeting. “I have not come as your enemy, Great Master. Please set your mind at rest.” The State Preceptor shook his head and was about to speak when a sudden stab of pain went through his chest, and he hastily closed his eyes and circulated his neili. Yang Guo stepped into the shelter, reached out his right palm and laid it on the Extreme Yang acupoint² in the middle of his back. This acupoint lies below the seventh vertebra and is a major point on the body’s Governing Vessel. At the sight of it Da’erba went white with alarm and raised his fist to strike at Yang Guo. Yang Guo waved his left hand and gave him a look. Da’erba saw that his shifu’s expression had not changed, and there was even a faint smile on his face, and the fist he had raised did not come down.

Yang Guo’s cultivation was not deep, and of the Vajra School’s³ neigong⁴ he knew nothing at all. But through his palm he could faintly feel the qi moving in the State Preceptor’s body, so he quietly summoned his own neili and sent a warm current to help it up through the Spirit Platform, Spirit Path, Body Pillar and Pottery Path acupoints and down through the Sinew Contraction, Central Hub, Spine Centre and Suspended Pivot acupoints.⁵ Try as he might, he could do no more than guard the State Preceptor’s Governing Vessel. For all his martial strength, Da’erba had trained only in waigong⁶ and could do nothing to help his shifu heal, and all these days he had only been able to fret. Now, with nothing to fear at his back, State Preceptor Jinlun sent his qi along the Conception Vessel and threw all his strength into mending the injuries in his chest and belly. In little more than a shichen⁷ the pain had eased greatly and the colour had come back to his face. He opened his eyes, nodded his thanks to Yang Guo and pressed his palms together. “Recluse Yang, what has brought you so suddenly to my aid?”

Yang Guo held nothing back. He told how he had lately learned that Guo Jing and his wife had killed his father, how he was now resolved to go and take his revenge, and how he had followed Da’erba up the mountain by chance.

State Preceptor Jinlun knew this youth was exceedingly crafty, and that scarcely one word in ten from him could be believed. But today, when killing him would have been easier than turning over a hand, the youth had helped him heal instead, so he plainly bore him no ill will. The State Preceptor said, “So you carry so deep a wrong and so great a feud, Recluse. But Guo Jing and his wife are profoundly learned in martial arts. I fear it will not be easy for you to have your revenge, Recluse Yang.” Yang Guo was silent. After a while he said, “Then let father and son, two generations, both die at their hands, and be done with it!” The State Preceptor said, “At first I thought myself unbeatable under heaven, and I meant to overpower all the heroes of the Central Plains single-handed and win the seat of Wulin Alliance Chief.⁸ But the martial men of these lands care nothing for the rules of single combat. When they all rush you together, you must make other plans. Once my wounds have healed, I must bring in many more masters to help me. When our side is strong enough, the fighters of the Central Plains will not be able to win by weight of numbers, and everyone can settle victory and defeat fairly. Would you care to join our side?”

Yang Guo was on the point of agreeing when he remembered the slaughter the Mongol troops had wrought. “I cannot help the Mongols,” he said. The State Preceptor shook his head. “If you mean to kill Guo Jing and his wife single-handed for your revenge, that will be harder than hard.”

Yang Guo pondered for a long while. “Very well,” he said. “I will help you win the seat of Alliance Chief, but you must help me with my revenge.” The State Preceptor held out his palm. “A man’s word, once given, is binding. Let us strike palms on it.”⁹ They struck palms three times and sealed their pact. Yang Guo said, “I will only help you contend for the Alliance Chief’s seat. If you help the Mongols conquer Jiangnan and slaughter the common people, I will turn against you.”

The State Preceptor smiled. “You are a Han, so that can’t be forced. Brother Yang, your martial arts come in a great many varieties. Not to presume on my age, but gathering from many schools, fine as it is, can’t help making a man’s art motley rather than pure. Which art is truly your best? What will you use against Guo Jing and his wife?”

The question left Yang Guo tongue-tied, with no answer to give. His life had been out of the ordinary, and his nature was greedy for more and more. Quanzhen arts, Ouyang Feng’s,¹⁰ the Ancient Tomb School’s, the Nine Yin Manual, Hong Qigong’s,¹¹ Huang Yaoshi’s: he had learned a great many martial arts, yet in every one he had only just found the door and never gone deep. Each of these arts was profound beyond measure. A man could give all his life’s strength and wit to studying one and still hardly hope to sight its farther shore. Yang Guo had plucked a scale here and half a claw there, and in not one of them had he reached the truly first rank. Against second-rate opponents his display was a dazzling medley that made their eyes swim, but against the very greatest masters he could not help looking poor beside them. Even next to State Preceptor Jinlun’s disciples Da’erba and Huodu he still fell short. He bowed his head and pondered, and he felt that the State Preceptor’s few words were a stick-blow to the head and a shout in the ear. They had put a finger on the root flaw in his martial arts.

Then he thought, I’ve made up my mind to marry Aunt, so why do I go about stirring up feelings everywhere? Little sister Cheng, the little wife, and Wanyan Ping¹² too. If I feel nothing true for them, why can’t I behave myself? This really is biting off more than I can chew. And he thought, Hong Qigong, Huang Yaoshi, my sworn father Ouyang Feng, Uncle Guo, State Preceptor Jinlun, even the Seven Masters of Quanzhen: every one of them who has stood out and made a great name has perfected the arts of his own school. It isn’t that they know nothing of other schools, but they only understand their ways and don’t study them. So which art should I devote myself to? By every right and reason he ought to concentrate on the Ancient Tomb School’s Jade Maiden Heart Sutra.¹³ But when he thought how wondrous Hong Qigong’s Dog-Beating Staff Technique¹⁴ was and how subtle Huang Yaoshi’s Jade Flute Swordplay, would it not be a pity to put them aside? And his sworn father’s Toad Skill¹⁵ and Reverse Meridian Circulation, and the many arts in the Nine Yin Manual: there was not one of them that could not by itself make a man’s name under heaven. He had learned them with such difficulty. How could he toss them away as if they were nothing?

He walked out of the shelter and paced the mountaintop with his hands behind his back, racking his brains in great distress. He thought for a long time, and then suddenly an idea stirred in him, Why don’t I take the best of every school and found a school of my own? All the martial arts under heaven were made by men. If others could make them, why can’t I? At that thought, the way before him was suddenly flooded with light.

He thought from the hour of Chen¹⁶ until past noon, and from past noon he racked his brains deep into the night, neither eating nor drinking on that peak. All the exquisite martial arts he had seen in his life came and went in his mind, surging against one another. He had once watched Hong Qigong and Ouyang Feng fight a duel in words, and he himself had scared off Li Mochou with talk and gestures alone. Now, as the arts of every school vied for mastery in his head, the contest ran faster and fiercer than any spoken duel. In the end, without meaning to, he began throwing punches and kicks, acting the moves out. At first he could still tell that this move came from Hong Qigong and that one from Ouyang Feng, but by the end they were a hopeless snarl, his mind a tangled skein of silk. He could bear it no longer. He toppled backwards and passed out.

Footnotes

1. 恩师 – ēnshī. Kind Master. A disciple’s address to his shifu, stressing gratitude for the teacher’s kindness and instruction. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 至阳穴 – Zhìyáng Xué. Literally reaching yang. Acupoint on the back along the spine on the governing vessel meridian. See Wikipedia. ↩

3. 金刚宗 – Jīngāng Zōng. Vajra (Diamond/Thunderbolt) school of Esoteric Buddhism, known for distinctive martial arts including the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Skill. ↩

4. 内功 – nèigōng. Literally internal skill. Practice of developing neili through breathing, meditation and qi cultivation. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. Governing Vessel acupoints. Spirit Platform (灵台, Língtái), Spirit Path (神道, Shéndào), Body Pillar (身柱, Shēnzhù), Pottery Path (陶道, Táodào), Sinew Contraction (筋缩, Jīnsuō), Central Hub (中枢, Zhōngshū), Spine Centre (脊中, Jǐzhōng), and Suspended Pivot (悬枢, Xuánshū) are all acupoints along the Governing Vessel (Du Mai), one of the Eight Extraordinary Meridians in traditional Chinese medicine and internal martial arts. ↩

6. 外功 – wàigōng. Literally external skill. Training of the body itself, its strength, sinews and bones, as distinct from neigong. ↩

7. 时辰 – shíchen. Traditional Chinese time unit; one twelfth of a day, equal to two modern hours. ↩

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. 击掌以誓 – Strike the palm to seal the oath. Traditional Chinese gesture of binding agreement, similar to a handshake but with ritual significance. Three strikes symbolise the unbreakable nature of the vow. ↩

10. 欧阳锋 – Ōuyáng Fēng. His name meaning “blade” or “cutting edge”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 洪七公 – Hóng Qīgōng. Literally Hong the Seventh Lord; the numeral seven marks seniority among sworn brothers. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 完颜萍 – Wányán Píng. Her name meaning “duckweed”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

13. 玉女心经 – Yùnǚ Xīnjīng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

14. 打狗棒法 – Dǎgǒu Bàngfǎ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 蛤蟆功 – Hámá Gōng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

16. 辰时 – Chén shí. The Chen hour, fifth of the twelve traditional Chinese hours, approximately 7:00 to 9:00 AM. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩