The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 4 – Part 6

They listened a little longer, and suddenly there seemed to be a faint note of slaughter in the horn, as though it were a challenge. Anger showed in Qiu Chuji’s face. “Wretches, wretches!” he cursed. He gazed at the forest to the west. “Jing’er, that villain made a ten-year pact with you in the hope of running riot as he pleases for those ten years with you in no position to interfere. Does he think anything under heaven goes so neatly to plan? Let’s go over there!” Guo Jing said, “Is it Prince Huo Du?” “Who else?” said Qiu Chuji. “He is challenging Xiaolongnü.” As he spoke he was already racing down the mountain, with Guo Jing close behind.

When they had gone a li or so, the horn grew more urgent still, and amid its wailing came the ringing clang of metal on metal, time after time. Plainly Da’erba had joined in too. Qiu Chuji said angrily, “Two famous masters of the martial arts joining forces to bully a young girl. Have they no shame at all?” He quickened his pace. In moments the two of them had reached the mountainside and rounded a line of rock face. Before Guo Jing lay a great forest, dark and dense. Outside it stood more than a hundred men, tall and short, the very fiends who had just besieged Chongyang Palace. The two of them hid behind the rock face and watched.

Prince Huo Du and Da’erba stood shoulder to shoulder. Huo Du raised the horn and blew. In his left hand Da’erba held aloft a great golden pestle, and again and again he struck the gold bracelet on his right wrist against it, clang, clang, the metal answering the horn, to draw Xiaolongnü out. The pair kept up their din for some time, but from the forest came not the faintest sound.

Huo Du lowered the horn and called out in a ringing voice, “I, Huo Du of Mongolia, humbly offer Xiaolongnü my congratulations on her birthday.” The words were hardly out when three notes of a zither rang from the forest, as if Xiaolongnü were answering on her instrument. Huo Du was delighted. “I hear Miss Long has proclaimed to all under heaven that today she will hold a martial contest to choose a husband. Unworthy as I am, I have come to ask for her instruction. I beg Miss Long not to grudge me a few moves.” All at once the zither rang out sharp and high, full of anger. The fiends knew nothing of music, but even they could tell that the player was far from calm and was telling them to leave.

Huo Du laughed. “My family is noble and of pure blood, and my looks are not unpleasing. I wish to win a fine match, and I trust I would not disgrace you. You are a xianü of our age. There is no need to be shy.” Before he had finished, the zither rose higher still, with a faint note of rebuke in it.

Huo Du glanced at Da’erba, and the monk nodded. Huo Du said, “Since the lady will not show herself, I shall have to invite her by force.” He put away the horn, waved his right hand and strode into the forest. The crowd of fighters surged after him, every man of them thinking, Even the famous Quanzhen Order couldn’t stop us. What can one little girl like this Xiaolongnü do on her own? But each was afraid someone else would get in first and carry off the treasure in the tomb, so they jostled to be first and poured into the forest.

Qiu Chuji shouted, “This is where Chongyang the Perfected One, Patriarch of the Quanzhen Order, once lived. Get out of there.” The crowd heard him and checked for an instant, but their feet never stopped. Qiu Chuji said angrily, “Jing’er, let’s act!” The two of them came out from behind the rock face and were about to charge into the forest when suddenly the crowd was yelling and racing back out of it.

Qiu Chuji and Guo Jing stood stunned. Dozens of men were running for their lives, and then Huo Du and Da’erba came hurrying out too, in a state many times sorrier than when they had retreated from Chongyang Palace. Both men were astonished, and thought, What marvellous means has Xiaolongnü used to drive off this evil crew? The thought had barely flashed through their minds when a buzzing came towards them from far off. In the moonlight a hazy mass, white and grey, came flying fast out of the forest and swooped down on the heads of the evil crew. “What’s that?” Guo Jing asked in wonder. Qiu Chuji shook his head without answering and stared hard. A few of the jianghu fighters who were slower on their feet had the swarm swoop on their heads, and dropped at once, clutching their heads and howling.

“A swarm of bees,” Guo Jing said in alarm. “But why are they white?” Even as he spoke, the jade-coloured bees had stung down five or six more men. A dozen or more were rolling about in front of the forest, their screams so dreadful they shook the heart. Guo Jing thought, Even if bee stings do hurt, there’s no need to squeal like pigs at the slaughter. Can these jade bees be unusually poisonous? Then he saw grey shadows flicker, and the swarm of jade bees came rushing at him and Qiu Chuji like a plume of thick smoke.

Seeing the swarm come at them so fiercely, more than they could withstand, Guo Jing was about to turn and run when Qiu Chuji drew the qi up from his dantian¹ and blew a great breath at the bees. The swarm was flying hard when it suddenly met a strong gust of wind, and its momentum broke. As soon as Qiu Chuji’s first breath was spent, he blew a second. Guo Jing caught the knack at once and joined in, putting his strength into his breath so that it ran into Qiu Chuji’s in a single wind. Both men were using the highest arts of the orthodox Xuanmen, and the swarm could not stand against them. The leading few hundred bees veered off course, shot past the two of them and went chasing after Huo Du, Da’erba and the rest.

By now the dozen or so men rolling on the ground were screaming more piteously than ever, crying for their fathers and mothers and wailing in their misery. Some even cried, “I know I did wrong. Immortal Lady Xiaolongnü, save my life!” Guo Jing was secretly appalled, These men are all desperadoes of the jianghu. Hack off an arm or a leg and they might not beg or cry out. How can the sting of one little bee be so terrible?

Then the notes of a zither rang out from the forest, and a faint white smoke rose above the treetops. Qiu Chuji and Guo Jing caught a scent of flowers, intensely sweet. Before long the buzzing came closer again, and the jade bees, smelling the flowers, flew back into the forest. Xiaolongnü had burned incense to call them home.

Qiu Chuji had lived eighteen years as Xiaolongnü’s neighbour and had never known she had such powers. He was full of admiration and found it amusing as well. “Had I known our fair neighbour had such magic at her command, the Quanzhen Order could have spared itself a lot of bother.” He said this to Guo Jing, but he sent it out on his qi, meaning Xiaolongnü to hear it too. Sure enough, the zither in the forest slowed and grew soft and calm, plainly thanking him for his kindness. Qiu Chuji laughed and called out in a ringing voice, “No need to stand on ceremony, miss. I, Qiu Chuji, with my disciple Guo Jing, respectfully wish you joy of your birthday.” The zither rang twice, as though in reply, and then fell silent.

Hearing the pitiful cries of those men, Guo Jing said, “Daoist Elder, how can we save these people?” Qiu Chuji said, “Miss Long will deal with them as she sees fit. Let us go.”

So the two of them turned and went back east. On the way Guo Jing asked Qiu Chuji again to take Yang Guo into the Order. Qiu Chuji sighed. “Your Uncle Yang Tiexin² was a man of valour. How can he be left without heirs? Yang Kang came to such an end, and I was much to blame for it myself. Rest easy. I will do everything in my power to bring the boy up.” Guo Jing was overjoyed and knelt on the mountain path then and there to thank him.

Talking as they went, the two of them came back to the front of Chongyang Palace. By now it was daylight. The Daoists were clearing up what was left of the rear courtyard after the fire and carting away the rubble.

Qiu Chuji called the Daoists together and introduced Guo Jing. Then he pointed to the long-bearded Daoist who had commanded the Great Big Dipper Formation. “This is Wang shidi’s eldest disciple, Zhao Zhijing.³ Of all the third generation, his martial arts are the purest. Let him guide Guoer’s training.”

Guo Jing had crossed hands with this man and knew his martial skill was very good indeed, and he was delighted. He had Yang Guo make the formal bows to take Zhao Zhijing as his shifu, and solemnly thanked Zhao Zhijing himself.

He stayed a few days on Mount Zhongnan, admonishing Yang Guo earnestly over and over. He explained to him at length that Quanzhen martial arts were the true orthodox line, that Wang Chongyang’s martial skill had once been the first under heaven, and that not one master of any school could stand against him. If he himself had beaten the Daoists, it was only because they had not trained to the highest level, not because Quanzhen martial arts were lacking. But Yang Guo was convinced that Guo Jing and his wife did not want to teach him their skills and were shrugging him off on whoever would take him. Besides, he had seen with his own eyes the Daoists with their jians broken, knocked to the ground in disarray. However many times Guo Jing explained, Yang Guo said yes, yes, with his mouth and never believed a word of it in his heart. Guo Jing saw Yang Guo settled, took leave of everyone and went home to Peach Blossom Island.

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Qiu Chuji thought back to the days when he had taught Yang Kang martial arts while letting him live in ease and luxury in the prince’s palace, until the young man went disastrously wrong. He thought, Strict teachers have always made fine disciples, and the rod makes dutiful sons. This time I must keep Guoer under strict discipline, so that he does not go down the road his father took. He sent for Yang Guo and gave him a stern dressing-down, telling him to work hard and bear hardship, obey his shifu in everything and never slack in the least.

Yang Guo had never wanted to stay on Mount Zhongnan in the first place, and now that he had been scolded for nothing at all, he was too bitter for words. He held back his tears and said yes at the time, but as soon as Qiu Chuji had gone he burst out sobbing. Suddenly a cold voice spoke behind him. “What’s this? Did the Patriarch scold you unfairly?”

Yang Guo started, stopped crying and turned round. Standing behind him was his shifu, Zhao Zhijing. He quickly dropped his hands to his sides. “No.” Zhao Zhijing said, “Then why are you crying?” Yang Guo said, “I was thinking of Uncle Guo and feeling sad.” Zhao Zhijing had plainly heard Qiu shibo give the boy a stern lecture, yet here he was claiming to be crying over Guo Jing. Zhao Zhijing was most displeased, and thought, So young, and already this cunning. If I don’t beat him hard now, how will he ever mend his ways when he’s grown? He set his face and barked, “You dare lie to your shifu?”

Footnotes

1. 丹田 – dāntián. Literally dantian. Primary energy centre below the navel, where qi is stored and cultivated. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 杨铁心 – Yáng Tiěxīn. His name meaning “iron heart”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 赵志敬 – Zhào Zhìjìng. His name meaning “aspiring to reverence”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩