The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 16 – Part 6

Jinlun Guoshi thought, This Persian westerner has considerable bearing. He turned to Xiaoxiangzi and said, “Since the elder brother is so modest, this old monk can only help himself.” His chopsticks drew back half a chi. He guessed Xiaoxiangzi’s neili was not weak and dared not be careless. Drawing the chopsticks back half a chi meant that when he emitted neili, he was half a chi closer, while his opponent was half a chi farther. Xiaoxiangzi gave a cold laugh. His chopsticks rose slowly, then suddenly shot out and seized the beef. Borrowing the momentum, he pulled it back, and actually dragged it back half a chi.

Jinlun Guoshi had not expected such speed. He hastily exerted force to pull it back, and the beef began to move back toward him, inch by inch. Xiaoxiangzi rose to his feet, his left hand bracing against the table. The table groaned and creaked, but he could not stop the beef’s advance toward the National Preceptor. Jinlun Guoshi’s expression remained utterly relaxed. Beads of sweat appeared on Xiaoxiangzi’s forehead. The balance of strength was clear.

Suddenly, from the distance, someone shouted, “Guo Jing! Brother Guo, where are you? Come out! Guo Jing! Hey, Guo!” The voice came first from the east, but in a flash it sounded from the west. East and west were roughly a li apart, it seemed as though one person finished shouting and a second took over, yet the voice was a single person’s. Moreover, it continued unbroken from east to west. The speed of this person’s movement and the neili in the voice were rarely seen in this world.

As everyone stared at each other in shock, Xiaoxiangzi released his chopsticks and slumped back into his seat. Jinlun Guoshi laughed heartily. “I concede, I concede!” Just as he was about to put the beef in his mouth, the tent flap billowed. A figure flashed in, and someone snatched the fatty beef from the National Preceptor’s chopsticks, bit off half, and began chewing noisily.

Everyone leaped to their feet in alarm. They saw an old man with white hair and a white beard, his face glowing red, beaming with delight. He sat down on the felt rug inside the tent, parted his white beard with his left hand, and stuffed the remaining half of beef into his mouth with his right, chewing with loud, satisfied sounds.

The guards at the tent entrance, having failed to stop the white-bearded old man, bellowed, “Seize the assassin!” Four long spears thrust at his chest simultaneously. The old man stretched out his left hand and seized all four spearheads at once. To Yang Guo he said, “Young Brother, bring more beef. I am terribly hungry.” The four Mongol guards pushed forward with all their might but could not move him a fraction of an inch. They then pulled back with all their strength, but their faces turned crimson with effort, the four spears seemed fused into a mountain of iron. They could not withdraw them even half an inch.

Yang Guo, amused, picked up the platter of beef from the table and sent it flying flat toward him. “Please, help yourself!”

The old man caught the platter with his right hand and held it before his chest. Suddenly a piece of beef leaped up from the platter and flew into his mouth as though alive. Kublai, delighted, thought it was a magic trick and applauded. But Jinlun Guoshi and the others knew the old man was channelling force locally through his palm to make a single piece of beef jump up. An ordinary person, striking the platter from below, could indeed make the beef jump, but all the meat would fly up together, juices splattering everywhere. To make the pieces leap up one by one was absolutely impossible. This old man’s palm force had truly reached a realm where whatever he willed was effortlessly accomplished. Everyone at the feast knew they could not do it themselves, and all felt awe.

The old man chewed without pause. The moment he swallowed one piece of beef, another leaped up from the platter. In moments, he had eaten half the platter. When he had eaten his fill, he flicked his right hand lightly. The platter flew upward, traced an arc through the air, and sailed toward Yang Guo and Yin Kexi. The two, seeing his incredible skill, feared he had secretly applied strange force to the platter and dared not reach out to catch it. They quickly parted to either side. The platter flew level with the tabletop, struck a platter of roast lamb, and the lamb platter flew toward the old man. The beef platter spun several circles on the table and stopped. What he had used was “Taiji Force”¹, like the taiji diagram, cycling without end, continuous and unbroken. If the platter had been thrown in an open space, it would have circled around him. Emitting this type of force was not particularly difficult. Many illusionists and acrobats were skilled in this technique. What was difficult was controlling the force with such precision, the empty platter stopping, while another platter of food was delivered into his hands.

The old man laughed heartily, immensely pleased with himself. He exerted force through his palm, and once again pieces of roast lamb leaped up one by one into his mouth. The most wretched figures at this moment were the four Mongol guards. They could not pull back their spears no matter how they tried, yet they dared not let go. Mongol military law was harsh, abandoning one’s weapon on the battlefield was a capital offense. Moreover, the four bore the heavy responsibility of guarding the Fourth Prince. They could only exert every last ounce of strength in the contest.

The old man, seeing their helpless flailing, was overjoyed. Suddenly he shouted, “Change, change, change! Two will kowtow to me, two will fall flat on their backs! One, two, three!” The moment the word “three” left his mouth, his arm shuddered, and all four spears snapped simultaneously. The force he exerted through his five fingers went in different directions, pushing outward on two spears while pulling inward on the other two. There were cries of “Ow!”, indeed, two guards pitched forward as though kowtowing, while the other two fell sprawling on their backs. The old man clapped his hands and sang:

“Little baby, roll the silver ingot, Fall down hard, grow up tall!”

It was a nursery rhyme that adults sing to comfort children when they stumble.

Yin Kexi suddenly realised. He asked, “Could the elder be surnamed Zhou?” The old man laughed. “That’s right! Ha, you know me?” Yin Kexi rose and clasped his hands in salute. “So it is the Old Urchin Zhou Botong², Elder Zhou, who has arrived.” Xiaoxiangzi had long heard his name. Jinlun Guoshi and Nimoxing, however, did not know Zhou Botong’s reputation. But seeing his profound martial skill and his utterly mischievous, playful behavior, he truly lived up to the title “Old Urchin.” Everyone’s hostility immediately diminished, and smiles appeared on their faces.

Jinlun Guoshi said, “Forgive this old monk’s dull eyes for failing to recognise a senior of the jianghu. Please, take a seat. His Highness thirsts for talent. To meet such an exalted person today will surely bring him great joy.” Kublai clasped his hands. “Indeed. Master Zhou, please be seated.” Zhou Botong shook his head. “I’ve eaten my fill, no need for more. Where is Guo Jing? Is he here?” Yang Guo had heard Huang Yaoshi speak of Zhou Botong’s sworn brotherhood with Guo Jing. He said coldly, “Why are you looking for him?”

Zhou Botong had always been innocent and childlike at heart, and he loved the company of children above all. Seeing that Yang Guo was the youngest at the table, he immediately took a liking to him. And hearing Yang Guo address him directly as “you”, not “Elder Zhou” or “Master Zhou”, pleased him even more. He said, “Guo Jing is my sworn brother. Do you know him? He loved being around Mongols as a child, so whenever I see a Mongol tent, I poke my head in to look.” Yang Guo frowned. “What business do you have with Guo Jing?” Zhou Botong, guileless as always, had no thought of concealing anything. He answered offhand, “He sent word asking me to attend the Heroes’ Assembly. I travelled a long way, played a few games along the road, and arrived several days late, but they had already dispersed. So disappointing.” Yang Guo said, “Did they not leave a letter for you?”

Zhou Botong rolled his eyes. “Why do you keep interrogating me? Do you know Guo Jing or not?” Yang Guo said, “How could I not know him? His wife is named Huang Rong, right? Their daughter is named Guo Fu³, right?” Zhou Botong clapped his hands and laughed. “Wrong, wrong! That girl Huang Rong is a little girl herself, how could she have a daughter?”

Yang Guo was startled, then understood. He asked, “How many years has it been since you last saw them?” Zhou Botong began counting on his fingers, bending each of his ten fingers twice. “Must be twenty years,” he said. Yang Guo laughed. “Exactly. After twenty years, is she still a little girl? Could she not have had children in those twenty years?”

Zhou Botong roared with laughter, his white beard fluttering. “You’re right, you’re right! That young couple, is their daughter pretty?” Yang Guo said, “The girl takes after Madam Guo more than Guo Jing. What do you think, pretty or not?” Zhou Botong chuckled. “That’s good, then. If a girl had thick brows and big eyes and a dark face like my brother Guo, she certainly wouldn’t be beautiful.” Yang Guo, knowing he now had no doubt, reinforced his belief by adding, “Huang Rong’s father, the Master of Peach Blossom Island, Huang Yaoshi. Brother Huang, is a good friend of mine. Do you know him?” Zhou Botong started. “You little rascal, how can you call Old Heretic Huang your brother? Who is your shifu?” Yang Guo said, “My master’s abilities are tremendous. If I told you, it might frighten you.” Zhou Botong laughed. “I don’t frighten that easily.” His right hand flicked, and the empty platter shot toward Yang Guo with a fierce howl, its force ferocious.

Yang Guo had long known Zhou Botong was the shishu⁴ of Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji, and the others. He also saw that when Zhou Botong threw, his arm did not bend inward, the force came purely from his fingers. It was the Quanzhen Order’s technique. Yang Guo naturally had no fear of Quanzhen methods. He extended his left index finger and pressed against the bottom of the platter. The platter spun smoothly on his fingertip.

Zhou Botong was delighted, and Xiaoxiangzi, Yin Kexi, Nimoxing, and the others were all stirred. Xiaoxiangzi had initially dismissed Yang Guo as a ragged youth of tender years. Now he thought, Just the force with which that platter came flying. I would not dare reach out to catch it, let alone with a single finger. If one misjudged the incoming force by even a fraction, the wrist would snap. What is this youth’s background?

Zhou Botong called out several “Goods!” But he had also noticed that catching the platter on one finger was the Quanzhen Order’s method. He asked, “Do you know Ma Yu and Qiu Chuji?” Yang Guo said, “Those two little ox-nosed brats, how could I not know them?”⁵ Zhou Botong was overjoyed. He had no real grievance with Qiu Chuji and the others, but he had always felt their endless rules and prohibitions were far too restrictive, and in his heart he rather looked down on them. The people he most admired in his life, aside from his shixiong Wang Chongyang, were the unbridled, unconventional Nine-Fingered Divine Beggar Hong Qigong. And with Huang Yaoshi’s wickedness, Guo Jing’s stubborn simplicity, and Huang Rong’s cleverness, he felt a vague kinship of spirit. Hearing Yang Guo call Ma Yu and Qiu Chuji “little ox-nosed brats” struck exactly the right note. He asked further, “And Hao Datong, how is he?”

At the name “Hao Datong,” Yang Guo’s fury surged. He cursed, “That ox-nose is a wretched bastard. One day I’ll make him taste some real suffering.” Zhou Botong’s interest grew. He asked, “What kind of suffering will you make him taste?” Yang Guo said, “I’ll catch him, bind his hands and feet, and soak him in a manure vat for half a day.” Zhou Botong was thrilled. He whispered, “After you catch him, don’t rush to dunk him in the vat. Tell me first, and let me secretly watch the fun from the side.” He actually bore no ill will toward Hao Datong at all, it was simply his nature to love mischief. When others caused trouble and played pranks, it delighted him, and he had to join in. Yang Guo laughed. “Fine, I’ll remember that. But why do you need to watch secretly? Are you afraid of the Quanzhen ox-noses?” Zhou Botong sighed. “I am Hao Datong’s shishu! If he sees me, naturally he’ll cry for help. If I don’t save him, I’d lose face. But if I do save him, I won’t get to enjoy the show.”

Yang Guo thought to himself, This man’s martial skill is extremely strong, and his nature is simple and likable. I might as well befriend him. But he is still from Quanzhen, and Guo Jing’s sworn brother. A man who achieves great things does not fret over small details. I must find a way to eliminate him. Zhou Botong, of course, had no idea of the murderous thought that had arisen in Yang Guo’s heart. He asked again, “When are you going to catch Hao Datong?” Yang Guo said, “I’ll go right now. If you want to watch the fun, come with me. Better yet, help me catch him!”

Footnotes

1. 太极劲 – Tàijí Jìn. Type of neili based on the principles of taiji (the Supreme Ultimate), characterized by circular, continuous movement that neutralizes and redirects opposing force. Concept predates the formal Taijiquan style but embodies the same principles of yielding and redirection. ↩

2. 周伯通 – Zhōu Bótōng. His name meaning “elder who understands all”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 郭芙 – Guō Fú. Her name meaning “lotus”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 师叔 – shīshū. Junior lineage uncle. Shidi or shimei of one’s shifu. Shī means teacher. Shū means father’s younger brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 牛鼻子 – niú bízi. Literally ox-nose, a derogatory term for Daoist priests, alluding to the topknot that resembles an ox’s nose. ↩