The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 16

Deep enmity for a slain father

When Yang Guo and Lu Wushuang heard that Blacksmith Feng was in fact Cheng Ying’s shixiong, they were both astonished and delighted.¹²³⁴ A disciple of Huang Yaoshi⁵ could hardly be poor at martial arts, they thought, and to find so strong an ally at the very moment of danger was more than they had dared to hope for.

Li Mochou⁶ said coldly, “Your shifu drove you from his door long ago, and still you can’t let go. Isn’t that the height of foolishness? Today I mean to kill these three brats and a half-wit woman. You can stand aside and enjoy the show.” Feng Mofeng⁷ said slowly, “I may have learned martial arts, but never once in my life have I raised a hand against anyone. Besides, my leg is broken. I’m no use in a fight.” “Quite right,” said Li Mochou. “Nothing could suit me better. There’s no need for you to throw your life away as well.” Feng Mofeng shook his head. “I won’t let you touch a hair on my shimei’s head.⁸ And since these people are her friends, you will not bully them either.”

Killing intent flared in Li Mochou. She laughed. “Then come at me all four of you together. That would be delightful.” With that she rose to her feet. Blacksmith Feng’s face did not change. He kept time with his hammering, like an opera player following the beat of the gongs and drums: one stroke, a few words, one stroke, a few words, each on the beat. “I left my shimen⁹ more than thirty years ago. My martial arts went rusty long since. I must think it over carefully and put it in order in my mind.”

Li Mochou gave a dry chuckle. “Half my life I have roamed the jianghu,¹⁰ and never yet have I met a man who sharpens his spear on the field of battle and clutches at the Buddha’s feet only when trouble comes.¹¹ Today my eyes are opened indeed. Feng Mofeng, is it really true you have never fought anyone in all your life?” Feng Mofeng said, “I studied martial arts, offended my shimen and gave it up halfway. My heart turned to ashes, and living itself lost its savour. Ever since, I have never dared to offend anyone. If people beat me or cursed me, I let it pass, so naturally no fight ever started.” Li Mochou laughed coldly. “Heh heh. So Old Heretic Huang really does pick nothing but good-for-nothings for disciples, to go out into the world and make fools of themselves.” “Please do not speak ill of my Kind Master,”¹² said Feng Mofeng. Li Mochou smiled. “He threw you out as a disciple long ago, and still it’s ‘Kind Master’ this and ‘Kind Master’ that. Aren’t you afraid people will laugh their teeth out?”

Feng Mofeng went on hammering, stroke by stroke. “All my life I have been alone and wretched,” he said slowly. “The only kin I have in this world is my Kind Master. If I do not revere and love him, whom else should I long for? Little shimei, has our Kind Master been in good spirits lately?” “He is happy,” said Cheng Ying. Joy lit Feng Mofeng’s face at once. “Little shimei,” he said, “the one wish of my life has been to repay our shifu’s great kindness with this useless old life of mine. If I die today defending the good name of Peach Blossom Island, I shall have my wish.”

Seeing his heart laid so plainly bare, Li Mochou thought, Old Heretic Huang is a grandmaster of his age, and there truly is something out of the common about him. He beat this disciple into the state he is in, and still the man is as loyal to him and as devoted as ever.

By now the bar of wrought iron had slowly cooled, and Blacksmith Feng went to put it back in the furnace with his tongs. But his mind was elsewhere, and what went into the fire was not the iron but the big hammer in his right hand. Li Mochou laughed. “Blacksmith Feng, take your time remembering what your shifu taught you. There’s no need to get flustered.” Feng Mofeng did not answer. He stared into the red glow of the furnace, lost in thought, and after a while he thrust the crutch propped under his left armpit into the fire as well. “Hey, ah, that’s your crutch!” Yang Guo and Lu Wushuang cried together. “Shige!”¹³ Cheng Ying shouted too. Still Feng Mofeng did not answer, but stared blankly into the flames. Yet in that fierce fire the crutch did not burn. Slowly it turned red: it was an iron crutch. A little longer, and the hammer too was glowing red, yet when he gripped the hammer’s haft and the crutch, they did not seem to burn his hands at all.

Only now did Li Mochou’s contempt turn to wariness. She knew that this mean-looking blacksmith had some uncommon gift, and fearing a sudden attack, she flicked her horsetail whisk several times in quick succession and sprang backwards out of the door. “Blacksmith Feng,” she called, “come on, then!”

At her call Feng Mofeng came out of the door, so nimble that no one would have taken him for a cripple. He pulled off his long gown, flung it on the ground and planted the red-hot iron crutch in the earth. “Immortal Maiden,” he said, “if you stop cursing my Kind Master and leave my shimei alone, this luckless blacksmith will have no quarrel with you!” “I’ll spare you, and you alone,” said Li Mochou. “If you’re afraid, simply keep out of it.” Feng Mofeng clenched his teeth. “Very well,” he said in a low voice. “I always meant to repay my shifu’s kindness!” As he spoke his whole body shook and he ground his teeth.

Li Mochou raised her whisk and struck straight down at the crown of his head. Feng Mofeng sprang clear, dodging with real agility, but his arms were trembling and he did not dare strike back. Li Mochou pressed in with three moves in a row. He slipped past each of them with deft footwork, and still he never returned a blow.

Yang Guo and the other two stood to one side watching, waiting for a chance to step in and help. They saw Li Mochou’s moves tightening. Feng Mofeng really did seem never to have fought anyone in his life, and being gentle and modest by nature, he could not bring himself to swing that great red-hot hammer at all. Within a few exchanges he had been hit several times and was stumbling. Yang Guo knew things were going badly. This extraordinary man of the wulin had great skill but no stomach for a fight. He would have to be goaded into anger. So Yang Guo shouted, “Li Mochou, why do you call the Master of Peach Blossom Island disloyal and unfilial, inhumane and unrighteous?”

Li Mochou thought, When did I ever say that? She fought faster and made no answer. Yang Guo shouted again, “You say the Master of Peach Blossom Island ravished other men’s wives and daughters and carried off their sons. Did you see it with your own eyes? You say he cheated his friends and betrayed his benefactors. Did any such thing ever happen? Why do you go up and down the jianghu spreading rumours and blackening the good name of Island Master Huang?”

Cheng Ying stared, not understanding, but Feng Mofeng was already ablaze with fury. A fierce courage welled up in his breast, and hammer and crutch struck out together. Standing on his left foot in the Golden Rooster Stands Alone posture,¹⁴ he was as firm and steady as if nailed to the ground, and hammer and crutch drove straight at Li Mochou on a wave of searing heat.

Seeing how fierce the onslaught was, Li Mochou dared not meet it head-on. She leapt and dodged, looking for an opening to strike back. “Li Mochou,” Yang Guo shouted again, “you call the Master of Peach Blossom Island a swindler and a charlatan, a shameless wretch. To my eye, you’re the shameless one!” The more Feng Mofeng heard, the angrier he grew. Hammer and crutch swept across and crashed down with a force nothing could withstand. At first his moves were rusty, but the longer he fought, the more easily they came.

In the thirty years since he left Peach Blossom Island, Feng Mofeng had never stopped training, and he had trained for longer than Li Mochou. But Li Mochou had ranged the length and breadth of the jianghu and fought hundreds of battles great and small, and her experience was a hundred times his. Twenty or thirty exchanges in, she knew that Feng Mofeng’s skill was far from weak but his experience sorely lacking, and that with only one leg he was sure to lose if the fight dragged on. So she resolved to fight on the move, wear him down, and counter-attack only once his edge was blunted. Sure enough, after another ten or so exchanges Feng Mofeng’s anger cooled a little, his will to fight slackened, and he began to give ground.

Yang Guo kept up his shouting, falsely charging Li Mochou with slandering Huang Yaoshi wherever she went. Feng Mofeng was beside himself with rage. “You curse my Kind Master,” he roared. “I’ll fight you to the death!” Several strokes of the whisk caught him across the face, and blood streamed down it until he was terrible to look at. He paid his wounds no heed at all. Thrusting the red-hot hammer and crutch before him, he charged at Li Mochou, careless whether he lived or died, bent on taking her down with him. Faced with this dogged, reckless assault and the raw courage behind it, Li Mochou lost her nerve in spite of herself. She fell back several steps. “That’s enough,” she cried. “I don’t even want to kill you!” “I want to repay my shifu’s kindness,” Feng Mofeng shouted, “and that means I want you to kill me!” His courage swelled, and he battered at her wildly. Li Mochou saw the danger she was in, and she was wary too of Yang Guo watching for his chance beside them. She thought, The brat’s martial arts have come on a long way. He’s not one to take lightly either. Now she wanted only to get away. She raised her whisk and lashed it at Feng Mofeng’s chest.

Feng Mofeng swung his hammer across to parry. The whisk rode the swing, curled round and wrapped itself about the hammerhead. This was Li Mochou’s deadliest trick for disarming an opponent: one wrench and one flick, and the hammer would be torn from Feng Mofeng’s grip. But there came a soft hiss, hiss, hiss, a wisp of blue smoke rose, everyone smelled burning, and the tail of the whisk had burned clean through.

So, far from taking her opponent’s weapon, Li Mochou had lost her own. She kept her head in the crisis, threw down the whisk handle and switched to the Scarlet Serpent Divine Palm.¹⁵ For all its deadliness, this palm art worked only at close quarters. Feng Mofeng whirled hammer in his right hand and crutch in his left until the air howled about them, every move now answering his will. Wisps of blue smoke kept rising between the two figures: wherever Li Mochou’s Daoist robe brushed the red-hot hammer or crutch, it burned away, patch after patch. She was furious. She could plainly have won, and this old blacksmith had got the better of her only through his weapons. She would not stand for it, and she made up her mind to land one savage palm blow on him to vent her anger.

This was the first fight of Feng Mofeng’s life. Had he come off worse again and again from the start, he would have shrunk away at once. But now that he had the upper hand, he wielded hammer and crutch with the utmost finesse. Time and again Li Mochou tried to land her palm on him, and each time she all but touched the hammer or the crutch. Had she been any slower to dodge, her palm would have been seared. All at once Feng Mofeng cried out, “Hey, you, woman, this is most improper!” and hopped back five feet on his one leg. Li Mochou stood dumbfounded. A cool breeze blew, and her clothes fell away from her in tatters. Her arms, shoulders, breast and thighs lay bare in many places. She was a virgin, and the shame of it was more than she could bear. She was turning to flee when a sudden chill struck her back: another great piece of her robe had flown away.

Footnotes

1. 杨过 – Yáng Guò. His name meaning “fault or transgression”; his courtesy name Gaizhi means “to correct it”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 陆无双 – Lù Wúshuāng. Her name meaning “peerless” or “without equal”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 程英 – Chéng Yīng. Her name meaning “heroine” or “outstanding”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 师兄 – shīxiōng. Male senior. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Xiōng means older brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 黄药师 – Huáng Yàoshī. His name meaning “medicine master”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 李莫愁 – Lǐ Mòchóu. Her name meaning “do not sorrow”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

8. 师妹 – shīmèi. Female junior. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Mèi means younger sister. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 师门 – shīmén. The house of one’s shifu: the master, the fellow disciples, and the rules and obligations binding them. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 江湖 – jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. Itinerant world beyond settled society and official reach, holding not only martial artists but the trades that travel with them, including pedlars, physicians, fortune-tellers, entertainers, boatmen, beggars, outlaws and the like. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 急来抱佛脚 – Clutch at Buddha’s feet only in desperation. Chinese idiom meaning to seek help only at the last moment, like someone who only prays to Buddha when disaster strikes. ↩

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

13. 师哥 – shīgē. Male senior, the colloquial form of shixiong. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Gē means older brother. ↩

14. 金鸡独立 – Golden Rooster Stands Alone. Fundamental stance in Chinese martial arts, balancing on one leg with the other raised, named after the posture of a rooster. ↩

15. 赤练神掌 – Chìliàn Shénzhǎng. Li Mochou’s palm technique, infused with poison. Name links her palm strikes to her serpentine nickname, suggesting that her very touch is as deadly as a venomous snake’s bite. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩