The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 4 – Part 7

Yang Guo had watched Guo Jing scatter the Quanzhen Daoists like fallen petals on running water, and had seen Qiu Chuji and the others thrown into a frantic scramble by Huo Du’s band of fiends and saved only by Guo Jing. He was convinced that the skills of these Daoists were all thoroughly ordinary. He had no respect even for Qiu Chuji, let alone Zhao Zhijing. Seeing the ugly look on his shifu’s face, he thought, I only took you as my shifu because I had no choice. Even if I learned martial arts exactly like yours, what bloody use would it be? I’d still be a great useless bag of pus. What are you being such a bully for? He turned his head away and did not answer.

Zhao Zhijing flew into a rage and raised his voice higher still. “I asked you a question. You dare not answer?” Yang Guo said, “What does Shifu want me to answer?” Hearing him talk back, Zhao Zhijing could hold his temper no longer. He swung his hand back, and with a smack the boy’s cheek was red and swollen. Yang Guo let out a wail, burst into tears and took to his heels. Zhao Zhijing went after him and grabbed him. “Where do you think you’re going?” Yang Guo said, “Let go. I’m not learning martial arts from you any more.”

Zhao Zhijing grew angrier still. “You little bastard, what did you say?” By now Yang Guo had set his heart hard. “Stinking Daoist, dog of a Daoist,” he swore, “go on, beat me to death!” In those days the bond between shifu and disciple was held most sacred of all. In the wulin a shifu and his disciple were like father and son, and even if a shifu meant to put a disciple to death, the disciple would often not dare resist. For Yang Guo actually to dare curse his shifu was gross rebellion, something hardly ever seen or heard of. Zhao Zhijing went sallow with rage and swung his palm at Yang Guo’s face again. Suddenly Yang Guo leapt up, threw his arms round Zhao Zhijing’s arm, opened his mouth and clamped his teeth on his right forefinger. He bit down with all his strength, and his teeth sank deep into the flesh.

Ever since Ouyang Feng¹ had given Yang Guo the secret of his neigong, the boy had practised it often and already had some foundation. In his towering rage, and thinking him only a little child, Zhao Zhijing had not been on his guard at all, and now, with Yang Guo clinging tight and biting hard, he could not shake him off. The ten fingers are joined to the heart, and pain in a finger is the hardest of all to bear. Zhao Zhijing struck Yang Guo hard on the shoulder with his left fist. “Do you want to die? Let go!” But Yang Guo’s heart was in a mad fury, and he was set on not letting go even if blade and spear came down on him together. He felt a searing pain in his shoulder and bit down all the harder, and with a crack his teeth went right through to the bone. Zhao Zhijing yelled, “Ow!” and hammered his left fist down on the crown of Yang Guo’s head, knocking him senseless. Only then could he pinch the boy’s jaw open and pull his right forefinger free. His whole hand was running with blood and the bone of the finger was broken. The bone could be set and the finger mended, but it would never be as strong again, and his martial skill was bound to suffer. In his fury he gave Yang Guo several more kicks.

He tore off one of Yang Guo’s sleeves and bound up the wound on his finger, then looked around. Luckily no one was nearby. If this got out and the story went round the jianghu that Zhao Zhijing of the Quanzhen Order had had his finger bone bitten through by his own little disciple, he would never live it down. He fetched a basin of cold water and dashed it over Yang Guo to bring him round.

The moment Yang Guo came to, he flew at him again like a madman. Zhao Zhijing grabbed him by the front of his clothes. “You animal, do you really want to die?” Yang Guo swore at him, “Dog thief, stinking Daoist, long-bearded goat, you useless thing that my Uncle Guo beat till you were crawling on the ground eating shit and begging for mercy, you’re the animal!”

Zhao Zhijing struck him again with his right palm. This time he was on his guard, and when Yang Guo tried to hit back, he could not even get near. In a flash Zhao Zhijing had kicked him head over heels several times. Had Zhao Zhijing wanted to hurt him, it would have been easy enough, but he thought that the boy was, after all, his own disciple, and if he struck too hard, what would he say when his shifu and shibos asked? But Yang Guo kept flailing at him blindly, fighting as though his life depended on it, as if the two of them were sworn enemies who could not live under the same sky. He took blow after blow and kick after kick, and though the pain was unbearable, he did not give an inch.

Zhao Zhijing pounded him with fists and feet, but in his heart he bitterly regretted it. He could see that though the boy was hurt all over, the longer he fought the fiercer he became. At last, with no other way out, he jabbed a finger of his left hand into Yang Guo’s side and sealed his acupoint. Yang Guo lay on the ground unable to move, his eyes full of fury. “You rebellious disciple,” said Zhao Zhijing, “do you submit or not?” Yang Guo only glared at him, with no sign of giving in. Zhao Zhijing sat down on a large rock, panting hard. Had he been fighting a real master, a bout this short would never have left him short of breath. His arms and legs were not tired at all. It was only that he was so angry he could not calm down.

Shifu and disciple glared at each other. Zhao Zhijing could think of no good way to deal with this unruly child. He was still fretting when a bell began to clang: the Head of the Order was summoning every disciple of the Order. Zhao Zhijing started. “If you stop defying me, I’ll let you go,” he said to Yang Guo, and reached out and freed his acupoint.

But Yang Guo sprang up and hurled himself at him again. Zhao Zhijing stepped back two paces. “I’m not hitting you,” he said angrily. “What more do you want?” Yang Guo said, “Are you going to hit me again after this?” Zhao Zhijing could hear the bell ringing urgently and dared not delay. All he could say was, “If you behave yourself, why would I hit you?” Yang Guo said, “All right, then. Shifu, if you don’t hit me, I’ll call you Shifu. But hit me just once more and I’ll never own you again.” Zhao Zhijing was so angry he could only smile bitterly. He nodded. “The Head of the Order is calling the disciples together. Come with me, quick.” He saw that Yang Guo’s clothes were torn and his face black and blue and swollen, and afraid that people would ask questions, he tidied him up a little, then took his hand and ran with him to the gathering in front of the palace.

When Zhao Zhijing and Yang Guo arrived, the Daoists were already standing in their ranks. Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji and Wang Chuyi sat facing outwards. Ma Yu clapped his hands three times and announced in a ringing voice, “Changsheng the Perfected One and Qingjing the Unbound Adept have sent word from Shanxi that matters there are extremely difficult. I have consulted with my two shidis, and we have decided that Changchun the Perfected One and Yuyang the Perfected One will take ten disciples and go at once to their aid.” The Daoists looked at one another, some shocked, some indignant. Qiu Chuji then called out the names of ten disciples. “Each of you, get your things together at once. Tomorrow at first light you go with Yuyang the Perfected One and me to Shanxi. The rest of you are dismissed.”

Only when the Daoists had broken ranks did they start whispering among themselves. “That Li Mochou is only a woman. How can she be so formidable? Even Liu shishu, Changshengzi, can’t get the better of her?” Some said, “And isn’t Sun shishu, Qingjing the Unbound Adept, a woman too? That just shows there are capable people among women. They’re not to be taken lightly.” Some said, “Now that Qiu shibo and Wang shishu are going, Li Mochou will hold out her hands for the ropes.”

Qiu Chuji came over to Zhao Zhijing. “I meant to take you along, but I was afraid it would hold up Guoer’s training, so you needn’t come this time.” Then he caught sight of the cuts and bruises all over Yang Guo’s face and stopped short. “What’s this? Who have you been fighting?” Zhao Zhijing was frantic, and thought, If Qiu shibo learns the truth, he’ll come down on me hard. He kept signalling to Yang Guo with his eyes. But Yang Guo had already made up his mind. Seeing how anxious Zhao Zhijing was, he pretended not to notice, and hummed and hawed without giving an answer. Qiu Chuji said angrily, “Who beat you like this? Whose fault was it? Out with it.” At Qiu shibo’s stern tone, Zhao Zhijing grew more frightened than ever.

Yang Guo said, “It wasn’t a fight. I had a fall and tumbled into a pit on the mountain.” Qiu Chuji did not believe him. “You’re lying,” he said angrily. “Why would you fall over for no reason? And those marks on your face don’t come from a fall.” Yang Guo said, “Just now, Grand Shifu, you told me to learn my martial arts like a good boy…” Qiu Chuji said, “Yes, and then what?” Yang Guo said, “After you’d gone, Grand Shifu, I thought that what you’d taught me was right, and that from now on I must strive to improve, so as not to let down your hopes for me, Grand Shifu.” At this honeyed little speech Qiu Chuji’s face gradually softened, and he gave a grunt. Yang Guo went on, “Then all of a sudden a mad dog came and jumped at me and started biting, for no reason at all. I kicked it and tried to drive it off, but the mad dog only got fiercer and fiercer. I had no choice but to turn and run, and I wasn’t careful and fell into a pit. Luckily my shifu came along and pulled me out.”

Qiu Chuji half believed it and half doubted. He looked at Zhao Zhijing, asking with his eyes whether it was true. Zhao Zhijing was furious, and thought, Well, well, you stinking little brat, you dare call me a mad dog? But he was boxed in by circumstance and had to help cover the lie, so he could only nod. “It was I who pulled him out.”

Only then did Qiu Chuji believe it. “While I’m away, teach him our school’s profound arts properly. Every ten days your shibo, the Head of the Order, will examine him and show him the key points.” Zhao Zhijing was thoroughly unwilling, but how could he defy his shibo’s word? He could only bow and agree. Yang Guo, at that moment, was thinking only of the fun of having made his shifu own himself a mad dog, and did not hear a word Grand Shifu Qiu said. When Qiu Chuji had gone a dozen or so paces, Zhao Zhijing’s anger boiled over, and he could not stop himself raising his hand to strike Yang Guo on the top of the head again. Yang Guo shouted, “Grand Shifu Qiu!” Qiu Chuji turned round in surprise. “What is it?” Zhao Zhijing’s hand hung in mid-air. He did not dare bring it down, and it was most awkward. He forced his arm round and scratched at the hair by his temple. Yang Guo ran to Qiu Chuji. “Grand Shifu, when you’ve gone there’ll be no one to look after me. Lots of the shibos and shishus here all want to beat me.” Qiu Chuji’s face hardened. “Nonsense! How could such a thing be?” But for all his stern face he was kind at heart, and thinking how pitiful the orphan was, he said in a ringing voice, “Zhijing, take good care of this child. If anything goes wrong, I’ll hold you to account when I get back.” Zhao Zhijing had no choice but to agree once more.

After supper that evening, Yang Guo dawdled into the meditation chamber where his shifu lived, dropped his hands to his sides and said, “Shifu!” This was the hour for teaching martial arts. Zhao Zhijing sat cross-legged on his couch. He had been turning things over for a long time already, and thought, The child is so unruly that he’s already wilful and defiant. Once his martial skill is better, who will be able to control him? But Qiu shibo and my shifu have ordered me to teach him, and not teaching him won’t do either. He weighed it this way and that and could not decide. Seeing the boy come slowly in, eyes darting, wearing a look that was half a smile and half a smirk, he grew angrier than ever. Suddenly an idea came to him, I have it. He knows nothing whatever of our school’s arts. I’ll teach him only the formulas of our profound arts and not one bit of how to practise them. What use will it be to him to know a few hundred lines of verse by heart? When my shifu and the shibos ask, I can always say he wouldn’t work.

Footnotes

1. 欧阳锋 – Ōuyáng Fēng. His name meaning “blade” or “cutting edge”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩