The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 20 – Part 6

In sheer martial attainment the State Preceptor actually stood above Nimoxing, but with the rock turning in the air and flying at him, he could only leap aside again. Nimoxing pressed his advantage, adding force to the great rock again and again, so that it came on ever more fiercely. The State Preceptor thought, If this goes on, I’ll be beaten by this black dwarf. I must change my plan at once. Luckily he’s challenged me on his own, first. If I strike to kill and finish him fast, the walking corpse won’t dare come on after him. Yang and Long both have poison in them. They can’t use that Pure-Hearted Jade Maiden Swordplay with any ease.

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Suddenly hoofbeats sounded from behind the hill with a roar like thunder, banners streamed, and a body of horsemen came charging out. The State Preceptor and Nimoxing were deep in their deadly fight and had no eyes for anything else. Yang Guo and the others saw strong men on sturdy horses, with long daos and stiff crossbows: a troop of Mongol cavalry. More than a hundred feet away, the leading officer raised his hand, and the whole troop reined in and halted.

Beneath the banners a rider watched the fight for a moment, then spurred his horse forward. “Stop! Stop!” he called. The man was bareheaded, wore a yellow robe and held an iron bow. It was none other than the Mongol prince Kublai.¹

At the call, Nimoxing sprang forward and pushed with both palms, and the great rock went bounding and crashing down the hillside, bringing mud, sand and stones down with it in its tremendous rush. Kublai swung down from his horse and walked over to the State Preceptor and Nimoxing, all smiles. “So the two of you were here comparing martial skill,” he said. “This prince’s eyes have truly been opened.” He knew perfectly well they had been fighting in earnest, but to save face on both sides he wanted to pass it off lightly. He went on with a laugh, “The scenery here is splendid. How can we be without wine? Attendants, bring wine! Let us drink three good bowls!” Mongols had always grown up in the open wilds, taking heaven and earth for their house, and to eat and drink on a barren hillside was no different to them from eating in a hall. Attendants at once brought strong wine and dried meat and set them out on the ground.

Kublai glanced at Xiaolongnü twice and was secretly astonished. Can there really be so beautiful a woman in the world? Seeing her hand in hand and shoulder to shoulder with Yang Guo, plainly on intimate terms, he asked him, “And who is this young lady?” “This is Miss Long,” said Yang Guo. “She is the shifu who taught me my martial arts, and she is also my wife.” Since his passage through life and death in Passionless Valley, he cared less than ever for the rites and customs that bind all the people under heaven. I’ll make sure the whole world knows it, he thought. I, Yang Guo, have married my shifu.

Mongols had never cared nearly as much as the Han for such rules of propriety as reverence for teachers or the strict separation of men and women, and Kublai found nothing odd in what Yang Guo said. Hearing only that this girl had taught him his martial arts, he felt an added respect for her. He laughed. “A talented man and a beautiful woman indeed, a match made in heaven. Excellent, excellent. Come, everyone drain a bowl to these two.” He raised his wine bowl and emptied it at a draught. The State Preceptor smiled faintly and drained his bowl too. The rest followed suit, and Ma Guangzuo downed three in a row.

Xiaolongnü had no feelings one way or the other about Mongols, but hearing Kublai praise her and Yang Guo as a fine match pleased her very much. After half a bowl of wine her face was lovelier than ever. All those Han people say Guoer and I can’t marry, she thought, but this Mongol prince keeps saying “excellent”. The Mongols seem to have better sense.

Kublai said with a laugh, “When none of you came back for three days, I was growing very anxious. But military business at Xiangyang was pressing, and I could not wait for you. Never mind that Mister Zhou could not be recruited. We can see about that another day. I left word at the main camp asking you all to come straight to the front at Xiangyang and lend us your strength. And now this chance meeting here. It does my heart good.”

The State Preceptor asked, “May I ask, Your Highness, how goes our army’s attack on Xiangyang?” Kublai frowned. “Lü Wenhuan, who holds Xiangyang, is a man of no great talent.² The one man I fear is Guo Jing.” Yang Guo’s heart gave a lurch. “Is Guo Jing really in Xiangyang?”

Kublai said, “This Guo Jing, now, is actually of my father’s generation. As boys, he and my late father³ swore brotherhood, and he was the favourite general of my grandfather Genghis Khan. The man has both wisdom and courage. When he led the army on the far campaign to the Western Regions, he produced one brilliant stratagem after another and won great victories. My late father once told me that the Southern Dynasty had a foolish ruler and treacherous ministers, cowardly generals and feeble soldiers, and that for all their numbers they could never stand against our Mongol crack troops, but that if we ever came up against Guo Jing, we must be very, very careful. Ah, my royal father truly saw far ahead. Our army has camped outside Xiangyang and attacked it for so long without taking it, all because this Guo Jing stands in our way.”

Yang Guo rose to his feet. “This man Guo killed my father,” he said. “I ask leave to go and assassinate him.”

Kublai was delighted. “That is the very reason I invited all you heroes and brave men here. But I hear this Guo Jing’s martial skill is counted the first among the Han of the Central Plains, and he has many men of unusual gifts to help him. I have sent brave warriors to assassinate him time and again, and every one has failed, taken or killed. Not one has come back. Brother Yang, brave as you are, you would be one hand trying to clap. I should like to ask all of you heroes to slip into Xiangyang together and strike in concert. Once this man is dead, Xiangyang is ours for the taking.”

The State Preceptor, Xiaoxiangzi and the others all rose together and saluted with folded hands. “We are at Your Highness’s command, and will give our lives in your service.”

Kublai was overjoyed. “Whichever of you kills Guo Jing, all who go with him shall have great merit. But the man who strikes the blow I shall commend to the Great Khan, to be made a duke or marquis with hereditary rank and given the title ‘Foremost Warrior of the Great Mongol Empire’.”

Xiaoxiangzi, Nimoxing and the others cared little for dukedoms or hereditary rank, but to be called “Foremost Warrior of the Great Mongol Empire” and have their names ring throughout the world was the ambition of a lifetime. Mongol arms reached in every direction now, over a breadth of empire never seen in all history. In the west its lands stretched on for tens of thousands of li,⁴ two-thirds of China was already in its hands, and from the heart of the empire to its frontiers a fast horse needed a full year to ride. To be called its Foremost Warrior was to be looked up to by every hero and man of valour under heaven. Every man there was fired with zeal, and even State Preceptor Jinlun’s eyes glinted with a strange light.

Yang Guo smiled bleakly and slowly shook his head. Xiaolongnü gazed at him with boundless love, thinking, Who wants any dukedoms or hereditary ranks, or any Foremost Warrior under heaven? All I want is for you to live.

They drank a few more bowls, then rose. Mongol warriors led the horses up, and Yang Guo, Xiaolongnü, State Preceptor Jinlun and the rest mounted and followed behind Kublai, riding hard south towards Xiangyang.

All along the way they saw houses standing empty, nine in every ten, and bones and corpses everywhere. Whenever Mongol soldiers came upon Han people, they would often torture and kill them at will. Yang Guo grew angrier and angrier as he watched, and he wanted to step in, but he held back for the sake of Kublai’s face. The Mongol soldiers are this savage, he thought, and they treat us Han as worse than pigs and dogs. Once I’ve assassinated Guo Jing and Huang Rong, I’ll kill a few of the most vicious Mongol troopers to vent my anger.

In a few days they reached the outskirts of Xiangyang. By then the two armies had been locked in attack and defence for more than a month. Broken spears and snapped lances covered every hill and field, with clotted blood and heaps of bones. One could picture how savage the fighting had been.

Word came to the Mongol army that the Fourth Prince, Kublai, had come to the front in person, and the commander-in-chief and all his generals rode out thirty li to meet him. Their guards rode spirited, prancing horses, iron armour clanking, a truly magnificent show of arms. When the commanders saw Kublai’s great standard in the distance, they all dismounted as one and prostrated themselves by the roadside.

Kublai rode up close, reined in, and looked about him. For a long time he said nothing. Then he gave a snort. “Xiangyang has held out against our attacks all this time. The army has grown stale and achieved nothing. Is this not a stain on the might of our Great Mongolia?” The commanders answered with one voice, “We deserve death. We beg the Fourth Prince to punish us.” Kublai cracked his whip, and his horse shot forward. The generals stayed on their faces a long while, not daring to rise, every one of them trembling.

Yang Guo saw how easy and affable Kublai was with himself, the State Preceptor and the others, yet how sternly he commanded his generals. The Mongol army has strong soldiers and sturdy horses, and its discipline is strict, he thought. How can the Great Song ever stand against it? He could not help knitting his brows.

At first light the next morning the Mongol army launched a great assault on the city. Arrows fell like rain and stones like hail, battering into the city. Then the troops raised scaling ladders and swarmed up towards the battlements from every side. The city was tightly defended, and teams of eight soldiers apiece, each team holding a great wooden beam, pushed the ladders clear of the walls. Attack and defence went on a long while, until at last several hundred Mongol soldiers fought their way up onto the wall. A roar went up from the Mongol army that shook the sky, and company after company of a hundred men swarmed up the walls like ants.

Then the watchmen’s clappers sounded urgently inside the city, and a company of archers sprang out from behind the parapet. Their arrows flew hard and fast, and the Mongol reinforcements could not get forward. Next a company of Song soldiers dashed out with torches and set fire to the scaling ladders, and the Mongol soldiers on them tumbled off in droves.

Amid the shouting above and below the wall, a band of brawny, bold men burst out on the battlements and, with long spears and keen blades, set upon the Mongols who had climbed the wall. These men did not wear Song army dress: some were in short black jackets, some in long blue cotton robes, and they kept no formation as they fought, but they were quick and agile and plainly men of martial skill. The Mongol soldiers and officers who had taken the wall were the bravest men in their army, men who had never yet met their match, but against this band they were beaten after a few bouts, one after another, some to lie dead on the battlements, some to be smashed to pieces at the foot of the wall.

One middle-aged man on the Song side was especially formidable. Dressed in grey and bare-handed, he ranged back and forth along the wall, and whenever he saw a Song soldier in trouble, he leapt across at once to the rescue. Wherever the wind of his palms reached, the Mongol soldiers and officers went down before him, for all the world like a tiger among sheep.

Kublai was directing the battle in person below the wall. Seeing the man’s prowess, he stared at him, dumbstruck, for a long moment, then sighed. “Of all the warriors under heaven, who could match this man?” Yang Guo, standing at his side, asked, “Does Your Highness know who he is?” Kublai started. “Can it be Guo Jing?” “It is!” said Yang Guo.

Footnotes

1. 忽必烈 – Hūbìliè. Grandson of Genghis Khan and founder of the Yuan dynasty; in the novel a prince leading Mongol campaigns against the Southern Song. ↩

2. 吕文焕 – Lǚ Wénhuàn. Historical Song commander who defended Xiangyang for six years before finally surrendering to the Mongols in 1273. In the novel, he is portrayed as a mediocre official whose defence is propped up entirely by Guo Jing and the martial artists. ↩

3. 拖雷 – Tuōléi. Genghis Khan’s youngest son; sworn brother of the young Guo Jing. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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