The Return of the Condor Heroes Chapter 9 – Part 4

One old beggar suddenly understood. “Ah, yes, she carries a horsetail whisk, and her painted donkey wears golden bells. That one in the yellow robe, that’s her?”

Yang Guo laughed. “Correct, correct. The young lady who wounded your guild brothers with the Silver Arc Flying Blade¹, she is Li Mochou’s disciple…” He paused, then added, “Only I’m afraid… no, it won’t work, it won’t work…”

The beggar with the booming voice was impatient by nature. “What won’t work?” he demanded.

Yang Guo said, “Think about it. Li Mochou has rampaged across the jianghu, and everyone who hears her name trembles. Your noble guild is formidable, but not one among you is her match. Since it was her disciple who wounded your guild brother, you may as well let it go.”

The beggar, provoked to fury, bellowed and grabbed his iron staff, ready to charge back the way they had come. But the other beggar was more cautious by nature. He thought, The two of us together couldn’t even handle this little Daoist, and now we’re going to provoke the Scarlet Serpent Immortal? That would be walking straight to our deaths. He seized his companion’s arm. “There’s no need to rush. Let’s go back and plan this properly.” He clasped his hands toward Yang Guo. “May I ask the Daoist brother’s honoured name?”

Yang Guo laughed. “This humble Daoist’s surname is Sa, given name Huazi. We shall meet again.” He made a Daoist salute and turned to leave.

The two beggars muttered to themselves: “Sa Huazi, Sa Huazi? Never heard of him. Such a young man, yet his martial arts are so formidable…” One beggar suddenly leapt up, cursing. “That son of a bitch! That dog-fucking bastard!”

“What is it?” asked the other.

“His name is Sa Huazi, that’s ‘Kill Beggars’!² We got cursed by that thieving little Daoist and didn’t even know it.”

The two beggars rained down curses, but they did not dare go back to settle the score.

---

Yang Guo laughed to himself as he hurried back, worried that something might have happened to Lu Wushuang. He saw her turning her head this way and that, watching anxiously, clearly afraid to face her shifu directly. The moment she spotted Yang Guo, her face lit up. She urged her horse forward to meet him. “Fool,” she said softly, “that’s good. You abandoned me.”

Yang Guo smiled. Holding the sword horizontally in both hands, he presented the hilt to Hong Lingbo, bowing as he did so. “Many thanks for the loan of the sword.” Hong Lingbo reached out to take it. Yang Guo was about to turn away when Li Mochou said, “Wait.”

She had seen that this little Daoist’s martial arts were impressive and thought, If I let this man live, he will surely become a threat in the future. I might as well eliminate him now, while his skill is still below mine. The moment Yang Guo heard the word “wait,” he knew trouble was coming. He immediately pushed the sword forward a few more inches, placing it in Hong Lingbo’s hand, then released his grip and stepped back from the weapon. Hong Lingbo was forced to grasp the hilt. “Little Daoist,” she said with a laugh, “your martial arts are excellent.”

“You flatter me,” said Yang Guo.

Li Mochou had intended to provoke him into attacking, then finish him with a single sweep of her whisk. But now he held no weapon. Given her status, she could not use a weapon against an unarmed opponent. She slipped her whisk into the back of her collar and asked, “Which of the Seven Masters of Quanzhen³ is your teacher?”

Yang Guo laughed. “I am a disciple of Wang Chongyang.”⁴

He bore no goodwill toward any of the Quanzhen Daoists and held not the slightest respect for them. Qiu Chuji⁵ had treated him decently enough, but they had spent so little time together, and at their parting Qiu Chuji had given him a harsh dressing-down. As for Hao Datong⁶ and Zhao Zhijing, the mere thought of them set his teeth on edge. In the ancient tomb, he had studied the essential formulae of the Nine Yin Manual⁷ that Wang Chongyang himself had carved into the stone. To claim Wang Chongyang as his teacher was, if one stretched the point, not entirely untrue. But given his age, he could only be a disciple of Zhao Zhijing or Zhen Zhibing’s⁸ generation. Li Mochou, seeing that his martial arts were not weak, had asked which of Wang Chongyang’s seven disciples was his shifu, in doing so, she was already elevating him. If Yang Guo had casually named Qiu Chuji or Wang Chuyi,⁹ Li Mochou would have believed him. But he refused to place himself a generation below Hao Datong, who had killed Grandma Sun,¹⁰ so he raised the name of Wang Chongyang instead. The Chongyang Realised One¹¹ was the founding patriarch of the Quanzhen Order and had accepted only seven disciples in his lifetime, a fact known to everyone in the jianghu. This little Daoist had not even been born when the Chongyang Realised One departed the mortal realm.

You ugly little wretch, you don’t know the height of heaven or the thickness of earth, Li Mochou thought. You don’t even know who I am, and you dare play tricks in front of me. But then she reconsidered: What Quanzhen Daoist would dare jest about their founding patriarch? Or use the name “Wang Chongyang” so casually? Yet if he is not a Quanzhen disciple, why do his martial moves clearly belong to the Quanzhen Order?

Yang Guo saw that though she still wore a faint smile, her brows were faintly knit in deliberation. He recalled how he had disguised himself as a farm boy and toyed with Hong Lingbo that day, and how he had crossed hands with shifu and disciple several times in the ancient tomb. I mustn’t let them recognise my voice or mannerisms. The sooner I leave, the better. He raised a hand in salute, swung onto his horse, and was about to gallop away.

Li Mochou drifted forward lightly and blocked his path. “Get down,” she said. “I have questions for you.”

Yang Guo said, “I know what you want to ask. You want to ask whether I’ve seen a beautiful young woman with a slightly disabled left leg, and whether I know where the book she carries is hidden.”

Li Mochou’s heart jolted. “Yes,” she said mildly. “You are clever. Where is that book?”

Yang Guo said, “A while ago, this shidi of mine and I were resting by the roadside when we saw that young lady fighting three beggars. One beggar was wounded by her blade, but then two more beggars arrived. The young lady could not hold them off, and in the end they captured her…”

Li Mochou had always been composed and unflappable, even when heaven itself was falling, her expression would not change. But the thought that Lu Wushuang had fallen into the Beggars’ Guild’s hands, and that the Secret Manual of the Five Venoms must have fallen into their hands as well, stirred a flicker of anxiety in her.

Yang Guo, seeing his lie take effect, embellished further. “One beggar pulled a book of some kind from the girl’s bosom. She refused to give it up, and the beggar gave her a mighty slap across the face.” Lu Wushuang shot him a sidelong glare. Fine, you fool, you’re making up stories to mock me. Just wait till I get my hands on you. Yang Guo, knowing full well Lu Wushuang was terrified, deliberately asked her, “Shidi, wouldn’t you say that’s infuriating? Those beggars were feeling her up, touching her hands and feet, she suffered quite the indignity, didn’t she?” Lu Wushuang lowered her head and could only answer with a muffled “Mm.”

Just then, the sound of hoofbeats came from behind the mountain bend. A column of troops surged forth, with ceremonial guards and soldiers, a formidable procession. It was a unit of Mongol soldiers. By this time, the Jin dynasty had been destroyed, and all the lands north of the Huai River¹² belonged to the Mongols. Li Mochou naturally did not regard these soldiers as worth her attention, but she was anxious to learn Lu Wushuang’s whereabouts and did not wish to invite trouble. She stepped aside. Iron-shod hooves raised clouds of dust as over a hundred Mongol cavalry escorting an official thundered past. The Mongol official wore a brocade robe, a bow and quiver at his waist, and rode with great skill. His features could not be seen clearly, but his bearing as he galloped was fierce and dashing.

Once the cavalry had passed, Li Mochou raised her whisk and brushed away the dust the galloping horses had kicked onto her robes. Every time the whisk moved, Lu Wushuang’s heart gave a violent lurch, knowing that if that sweep, instead of brushing away dust, were to land on her head, her brains would inevitably splatter on the spot.

Having dusted herself off, Li Mochou asked, “What happened next?”

Yang Guo said, “The beggars seized the young lady and headed north. This humble Daoist, seeing injustice on the road, wanted to intervene, so those two old beggars stayed behind to fight me.”

Li Mochou nodded and gave a faint smile. “Very well. Thank you. My surname is Li, and my name is Mochou. In the jianghu they call me the Scarlet Serpent Immortal, though some call me the Scarlet Serpent Demon. Have you heard of me?”

Yang Guo shook his head. “I have not. Young lady, you are so young and beautiful, as lovely as a celestial maiden descended to the mortal world, how could anyone call you a demon?”

By now Li Mochou was past thirty, but her neigong was profound, her skin snow-white and tender, without a single wrinkle, she still looked like a woman of twenty. All her life she had been proud of her beauty, and hearing Yang Guo praise her to her face naturally pleased her. She flicked her whisk. “You jest with me, claiming to be a disciple of Wang Chongyang. I should make you suffer a little before you die. But since you know how to speak pleasantly, I’ll merely use this whisk to teach you a small lesson.”

Yang Guo shook his head. “That won’t do. This humble Daoist cannot casually cross hands with a junior.”

Li Mochou spat. “At death’s door and still joking. How am I your junior?”

Yang Guo said, “My teacher, the Chongyang Realised One, was of the same generation as your grand shifu. Wouldn’t that make me a generation above you? You are such a young, pretty little girl, innocent, fair-skinned and adorable. I, your elder, cannot bully you.”

Li Mochou smiled faintly. “Lingbo,” she said to Hong Lingbo, “lend him the sword again.” Yang Guo waved his hand. “No, I…”

Footnotes

1. 银弧刀 – Yín Hú Dāo. Literally silver arc blade. Curved dao that could be thrown or wielded at close range. ↩

2. 萨华滋 – Sà Huázī. Pun in Chinese: “Sa Huázī” (萨华滋) is a pun of “Shā Huàzi” (杀化子), which means “Kill Beggars”. Yang Guo deliberately chose this name to insult the two Beggars’ Guild members, knowing they would not catch on immediately. ↩

3. 全真七子 – Quánzhēn Qī Zǐ. Seven Masters of Quanzhen, the seven personal disciples of Wang Chongyang: Ma Yu, Tan Chuduan, Liu Chuxuan, Qiu Chuji, Wang Chuyi, Hao Datong, and Sun Bu’er. ↩

4. 王重阳 – Wáng Chóngyáng. His name meaning “double yang”, the ninth day of the ninth lunar month. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 丘处机 – Qiū Chǔjī. His name meaning “dwelling in opportunity”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 郝大通 – Hǎo Dàtōng. His name meaning “great penetration”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 九阴真经 – Jiǔyīn Zhēnjīng. Legendary martial arts compendium compiled by Huang Shang during the Northern Song dynasty. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 甄志丙 – Zhēn Zhìbǐng. His name meaning “aspiring to the third stem”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 王处一 – Wáng Chùyī. His name meaning “dwelling in oneness”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. Grandma Sun (孙婆婆). Elderly caretaker of the Ancient Tomb who rescued Yang Guo when he fled the Quanzhen Order. She was killed by Hao Datong while protecting Yang Guo, and with her dying breath she entrusted him to Xiaolongnü’s care. ↩

11. Chongyang Zhenren (重阳真人). “Chongyang the Realised One,” the Daoist honorific title of Wang Chongyang. Zhenren is a title for an enlightened Daoist master. ↩

12. 淮河 – Huái Hé. Major river in central China, traditionally marking the boundary between north and south. ↩