The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 2 – Part 7

By now the whole inn was in uproar, people shouting for their fathers and mothers. Huang Rong knew they could not stay there any longer. She took her daughter from Ke Zhen’e’s arms. “Shifu, carry Jing gege,” she said. “Let’s go!” Ke Zhen’e hoisted Guo Jing onto his shoulder and limped off northward. After they had walked a while, Huang Rong suddenly remembered Yang Guo. She had no idea where the boy had fled to, but she was anxious about her husband’s grave injury, and thought that everything else would have to wait.

Guo Jing was fully conscious. It was only that Ouyang Feng’s palm force had locked his breath, so that he could not speak. On Ke Zhen’e’s shoulder he evened his breathing and drove his qi through his channels, and when they had gone some seven or eight li,¹ every channel was open again. “Eldest shifu, I’m all right now,” he said. Ke Zhen’e set him down. “Are you all right?” he asked. Guo Jing shook his head. “That Toad Skill is formidable indeed!” Seeing his daughter fast asleep on her mother’s shoulder, he gave a start. “Where’s Guoer?” he asked. For a moment Ke Zhen’e could not think who Guoer was, and stared, unable to answer. “Don’t worry,” said Huang Rong. “Let’s find somewhere to rest first. I’ll go back and look for him.”

Day was about to break, and the trees and houses along the road were coming dimly into view. “My injury’s nothing,” said Guo Jing. “Let’s all go and look for him together.” Huang Rong frowned. “That child’s as sharp as they come. There’s no need to worry about him.” Just as she said it, a small head poked out from behind a white wall by the road, took a peek and ducked back. Huang Rong darted over and grabbed him. It was Yang Guo. Grinning, he called her “Auntie Guo”. “You’ve only just got here?” he said. “I’ve been waiting ages.” Huang Rong’s mind was full of doubts she could not untangle, but she answered him offhandedly. “Good. Come along with us!”

Yang Guo smiled and fell in behind them. Guo Fu opened her eyes. “Where did you go?” she asked. “Catching crickets,” said Yang Guo. “Now that was fun.” “What’s fun about that?” said Guo Fu. “Hmph, who says it isn’t fun? A big cricket was fighting an old cricket. The old cricket was losing, so two little crickets came to help him, three on one. The big cricket leapt this way and that, a kick here and a bite there, heh heh, he was something to see…” There he stopped and said no more. Guo Fu had been listening spellbound. “What happened next?” she asked. “You said it wasn’t fun. Why ask me?” said Yang Guo. Guo Fu, rebuffed, was very cross. She turned her head away and ignored him.

Huang Rong could hear that he was plainly taking Ouyang Feng’s side and mocking her, her husband and Ke Zhen’e. “Tell Auntie, then,” she said. “Who won in the end?” Yang Guo smiled and said airily, “Just as it was getting good, you all came along, and the crickets all ran away.” Huang Rong thought, Like father, like son, truly. She could not help feeling a little annoyed.

While they talked, they came to a village. Huang Rong called at a large house and asked to see the owner. The owner was very hospitable. Hearing that someone was injured and ill, he quickly had his farmhands sweep out a side wing to receive them. Guo Jing ate three big bowls of rice, then sat on the couch with his eyes closed, resting. Huang Rong saw that her husband’s breathing was steady and his spirit calm, and knew the danger was past. She sat beside him, keeping watch, and thought over all that had happened since they first met Yang Guo. Young as the boy was, there was much about him that was strange and hard to fathom, but if she questioned him closely, he would very likely not tell the truth. She decided she would simply keep a careful eye on what he did. The rest of the day passed quietly, and after supper they all went to bed.

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Yang Guo shared a room with Ke Zhen’e. In the middle of the night he crept out of bed. Hearing Ke Zhen’e snoring away, fast asleep, he opened the door and slipped out. He went to the wall, climbed a sweet osmanthus tree, sprang up, caught the top of the wall and let himself down lightly on the other side. Two dogs outside caught the smell of a person and began to bark. Yang Guo had come prepared. From the front of his jacket he took two meat bones he had hidden there during the day, and tossed them over. The dogs seized the bones and gnawed at them greedily, and stopped barking at once.

Yang Guo got his bearings and set off southwest. After some seven or eight li he came to Iron Spear Temple. He pushed open the door. “Papa, I’m here!” he called. A grunt answered from inside. It was Ouyang Feng’s voice. Overjoyed, Yang Guo felt his way to the altar table, found a candlestick and lit the candle stub on it. Ouyang Feng lay on several rush cushions before the god’s images, worn out, his breathing faint. His injuries were much like Guo Jing’s, but Guo Jing was in the prime of his strength and recovered fast, while Ouyang Feng was older and his vigour was no longer what it had been.

The night before, when Yang Guo was sharing Ke Zhen’e’s room at the inn, Ouyang Feng had come again in the middle of the night to see him. Ke Zhen’e woke at once and fought him, and then Huang Rong and Guo Jing joined in one after the other, while Yang Guo watched from the side the whole time. In the end Ouyang Feng and Guo Jing were both injured, and Ouyang Feng withdrew into the distance. Seeing that in the confusion no one was paying him any attention, Yang Guo quietly went after Ouyang Feng. At first Ouyang Feng moved very fast, and Yang Guo naturally could not keep up. But later his injuries took hold and every step became a struggle, and Yang Guo caught up with him and helped him to rest by the roadside. Yang Guo knew that if he did not go back, Huang Rong, Ke Zhen’e and the rest would certainly come searching for him, and he feared he might cost his sworn father his life. So he had arranged with Ouyang Feng to meet at Iron Spear Temple. The temple meant a great deal to both of them, and each had understood at once. Yang Guo had waited alone beside the main road, and after he rejoined Guo Jing and the others, it was the middle of the night before he came to see him.

Yang Guo took seven or eight steamed buns from inside his jacket and put them in his hands. “Eat, Papa,” he said. Ouyang Feng had been hungry all day. Afraid of running into his enemies if he went out, he had hidden in the temple the whole day long, holding out. After a few buns his spirits rose. “Where are they?” he asked. Yang Guo told him everything.

“That fellow Guo took a palm from me,” said Ouyang Feng. “He won’t recover within seven days. His wife has to tend her husband and won’t dare leave his side lightly. For now we need only worry about Ke the Blind. If he doesn’t come tonight, he’ll come tomorrow for certain. It’s just a pity I haven’t a scrap of strength left. Ah, I seem to have killed some brothers of his. I can’t remember if it was four or five…” Here he broke into a violent fit of coughing.

Yang Guo sat on the floor, chin in his hands, a host of schemes turning over in his little head in an instant. Suddenly he thought, I’ve got it. I’ll lay some sharp things on the floor. If the old blind man comes in, I’ll make sure he gets hurt first. He took four candlesticks from the altar table, pulled out the old candle stubs caked with years of dust, and set the candlesticks by the door. Then he left the temple door just ajar, dragged over an iron incense burner, climbed up and set it on top of the door.

He looked about him, thinking of more traps to lay, and saw that in the eastern and western side halls a great iron bell hung in each. Each bell was too big for three men to circle with their arms, and must have weighed over a thousand jin.² At the top of each was an enormously thick iron hook, joined to a frame of huge timbers. Iron Spear Temple had long gone unrepaired and was falling to ruin, but the great bells and their timber frames were both sturdy and still quite intact. Yang Guo thought, If the old blind man comes, I’ll climb up on the bell frame. He’ll never find me there.

Candlestick in hand, he was about to go to the rear hall to find a weapon to defend himself when he heard, from the main road, tock, tock, tock, an iron staff striking the ground, again and again. He knew Ke Zhen’e had come, and quickly blew out the candle. Then it struck him, The blind man can’t see. I needn’t have put it out. So he let the candle burn and set the candlestick on the altar table. The tock-tock-tock came closer and closer. Ouyang Feng suddenly sat up, meaning to gather every last scrap of strength in his body into his right palm, strike first and kill the man with one blow. Yang Guo picked up another candlestick, its iron spike turned outward, and stood guard beside Ouyang Feng, thinking, My martial skill may be poor, but I’ve got to help Papa somehow and have it out with the old blind man.

Ke Zhen’e had always reckoned his own martial skill far, far behind Ouyang Feng’s, nowhere near a match. But he had heard Guo Jing and Huang Rong say that after the exchange of palms Ouyang Feng was gravely hurt and could not get far. Iron Spear Temple was close by, a place Ouyang Feng had frequented in the old days, and Ke Zhen’e guessed that he would not dare lodge with ordinary folk and was most likely hiding in the temple. When he thought of his five brothers and sister, cruelly killed by this man’s poisonous hand, and of this chance for revenge today, how could he let it pass? He slept until the middle of the night, then called softly twice, “Guoer, Guoer!” Hearing no answer, he supposed the boy was fast asleep, and did not even go over to check. He went over the wall and out. The two dogs were still gnawing at the bones Yang Guo had given them. Seeing him come out, they only whimpered a little and did not bark.

He came slowly up to Iron Spear Temple and cocked his ear. Sure enough, there was the sound of breathing inside. “Old Poison, Ke the Blind has come for you,” he shouted. “If you’ve got the guts, come out, quick.” As he said it, he struck his iron staff on the ground. Ouyang Feng, afraid of letting slip the qi in his dantian, did not dare make a sound.

Ke Zhen’e called several times but heard no reply. He raised his staff, smashed the temple door open and strode in. There was a whoosh, and something heavy came crashing down on his head. At the same instant his left foot trod on the iron spike of a candlestick, which pierced the sole of his boot, and a sharp pain shot through the middle of his foot. For a moment he could not understand what was happening. He swung up his iron staff and, with a deafening clang, knocked the iron incense burner away from over his head. At once he threw himself down and rolled on the ground to keep the spike from driving into his foot. But there were more candlesticks around him. He felt a stab in his shoulder as another spike sank into his flesh. He grabbed the candlestick with his left hand and pulled it out, and the blood gushed. He dared not be careless now. Listening to the sound of Ouyang Feng’s breathing, he slid his feet along the ground, closing in step by step, and when he was three feet away he raised his staff high. “Old Poison, what have you got to say for yourself today?”

Ouyang Feng had already gathered the little strength left in his body into his right arm. The moment the staff came down, he would strike out with his palm at the same time and take the other man with him into death. Ke Zhen’e knew his enemy was gravely wounded, but not how badly, so the blow hung and would not fall. He was waiting for Ouyang Feng to move first, which would show him how much strength the man had left. The two faced each other in deadlock, neither moving.

Ke Zhen’e heard his heavy breathing, and all at once there in his head were the voices of his sworn brothers, Zhu Cong, Han Baoju, Nan Xiren and the rest,³ as if all urging him with one voice to strike, and strike now. He could hold back no longer. With a great roar he swung the move King of Qin Wields the Whip,⁴ bringing his iron staff crashing down on Ouyang Feng’s head. Ouyang Feng swayed a little aside and was about to strike, but his arm had reached out only half a foot when his breath failed him, and it dropped limp. There was a tremendous crash and sparks flew everywhere as the head of the staff smashed several floor tiles to powder.

Ouyang Feng had dodged in time. Ke Zhen’e’s first blow missed, and the second followed hard on it, the staff sweeping sideways at his middle. On an ordinary day Ouyang Feng could have given it a light tug and sent the staff flying from Ke Zhen’e’s hands, or at the very least leapt over it. But now his whole body was weak and aching, and he could not summon the least strength. All he could do was roll along the ground out of its way. Ke Zhen’e opened up with his Demon-Subduing Staff Technique,⁵ each move faster than the last, while Ouyang Feng’s dodging grew slower and clumsier, until at last a move called Pestle Subdues the Yaksha⁶ caught him on the left shoulder.

Listening from one side, Yang Guo felt his heart leap and his flesh crawl. He longed to rush in and help his sworn father, but knew his own martial skill was too poor. All he would do was throw his life away.

Ke Zhen’e struck three blows in a row, and every one landed on Ouyang Feng. It was Ouyang Feng’s lot to suffer this calamity today. But at least his neili ran deep, and though he had no strength to hit back, he could still give way and dissolve each blow, shedding its force to one side. His skin was split and his flesh torn open, but his sinews, bones and organs took no harm. Ke Zhen’e marvelled to himself, thinking, This Old Poison’s skill really is out of the ordinary. Every blow plainly lands, yet each one slides off him, and nine parts in ten of the force are turned aside. And he thought, His skull at least can’t slide my staff off with some soft art. So he whirled his staff till the wind roared, aiming every move at his enemy’s head.

Ouyang Feng jerked his head aside several times, and in an instant his whole body was caught under the wind of the staff. He groaned inwardly. If one blow of that staff landed on his head, what hope would he have of keeping his life? With no other way left, he took a desperate gamble and suddenly threw himself into Ke Zhen’e’s arms, seizing him by the chest. Ke Zhen’e was badly alarmed. His staff had already swung wide and could not strike the enemy, and all he could do was reach in and grab back. The two men went down together.

Footnotes

1. 里 – lǐ. Traditional Chinese unit of distance, approximately 500 metres or a third of a mile. ↩

2. 斤 – jīn. Traditional Chinese unit of weight, approximately 500 grams or 1.1 pounds. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 朱聪、韩宝驹、南希仁 – Zhū Cōng, Hán Bǎojū, Nán Xīrén. Three of the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan, Ke Zhen’e’s sworn brothers. All except Ke Zhen’e were killed by Ouyang Feng and Yang Kang at Peach Blossom Island. ↩

4. 秦王鞭石 – Qín Wáng Biān Shí. King of Qin Wields the Whip, a staff technique named after the legendary King of Qin (Qin Shi Huang), who was said to have used a magic whip to drive stones into the sea to build a bridge. ↩

5. 降魔杖法 – Jiàngmó Zhàngfǎ. Literally demon-subduing staff method. Ke Zhen’e’s signature staff technique. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 杵伏药叉 – Chǔ Fú Yào Chā. Pestle Subdues the Yaksha, a staff technique named after the Buddhist imagery of subduing yakshas (malevolent nature spirits) with a ritual pestle. ↩