The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 10 – Part 3

Zhang Songxi observed the demeanour of the assembled crowd and thought to himself, *What reinforcements are they still waiting for? It is a pity that our shifu dislikes crowds. The Wudang Order's close friends were not invited beforehand, not a single one. Otherwise, we would not find ourselves so outnumbered and isolated.* He considered that their shifu's acquaintances spanned the realm, and the seven brothers had walked the jianghu¹ upholding righteousness and forging good connections. Had they prepared in advance, they could have invited dozens of skilled fighters to join the birthday celebrations.

Yu Lianzhou whispered beside Zhang Songxi, “We had planned to issue heroes’ invitations after our shifu’s birthday and host a grand heroes’ banquet at Yellow Crane Tower in Wuchang. Unexpectedly, one misstep has left us entirely constrained.” He had long since worked out the plan: during the heroes’ banquet, Zhang Cuishan would explain the predicament that prevented him from betraying a friend. All who walked the jianghu prized the character yi—righteousness—above all else. If Zhang Cuishan spoke frankly, no one could force him to become an unrighteous man. Even if some refused to let the matter rest, among the heroes at the banquet would be many skilled fighters friendly with the Wudang Order. Should it truly come to a contest of martial arts, they would not be at a disadvantage. He had not anticipated that their opponents had foreseen this very move and, under the pretext of celebrating the birthday, had gathered their forces and surged up the mountain, catching the Wudang Order off guard.

Zhang Songxi whispered, “Things have come to this pass. We can only fight to the death.” Of the Seven Xias of Wudang,² Zhang Songxi was the most resourceful. When confronted with a problem, he would often produce an unexpected stratagem and turn peril into safety. Yu Lianzhou’s heart sank. Even Fourth Brother is at his wits’ end. It seems the six disciples of Wudang must stain this mountainside with blood today. Had it been one against one, perhaps none of their visitors could match any single one of the Six Xias of Wudang. But the situation on the mountain was not merely twenty against one—it was thirty or forty to one.

Zhang Songxi tugged at the corner of Yu Lianzhou’s sleeve, and the two walked to the back of the hall. Zhang Songxi said, “Once the talks break down, if we can pin them with words and force single combat—six bouts to decide the outcome—we would stand on unassailable ground. But they came prepared. They will certainly have considered this and will never agree to settle for six bouts alone. It will inevitably become a melee.” Yu Lianzhou nodded. “Our first priority is rescuing Third Brother. We must not let him fall into their hands again and suffer further humiliation. That task falls to you. Fifth Brother’s wife has likely not yet recovered. Tell Fifth Brother to devote himself to protecting her. The four of us will shoulder more of the fighting.”

Zhang Songxi nodded. “Very well, so it shall be.” He paused briefly, then said, “There is one stratagem. It is a desperate gamble.” Yu Lianzhou’s spirits lifted. “A desperate gamble—we have no choice but that. What plan does Fourth Brother propose?” Zhang Songxi said, “Each of us picks one opponent. The moment they make a move, we each attend to one, and within a single strike, seize them. That will give them pause—they will not dare to press us.”

Yu Lianzhou hesitated. “If we cannot seize them in one move, the others will surely come to their aid. To succeed in a single strike, I fear…” Zhang Songxi said, “With disaster upon us, we cannot afford to hold back. Use the Tiger Claw Line-Extinguishing Hand!”³ Yu Lianzhou started. “The Tiger Claw Line-Extinguishing Hand? Today is our shifu’s joyous day. To use such a vicious technique—is that not too cruel?”

The Wudang Order possessed an extremely formidable grappling technique called the Tiger Claw Hand. After mastering it, Yu Lianzhou had always felt that a single grip, if the opponent’s martial arts were profound, could still be broken through sheer internal force, inevitably devolving into a contest of neili.⁴ He had therefore added his own modifications, deriving twelve new moves from the Tiger Claw Hand.

Zhang Sanfeng, before accepting disciples, had thoroughly investigated each candidate’s character, conduct, aptitude, and comprehension. As a result, once the seven disciples entered the shimen,⁵ not one failed to become a person of consequence. They not only each transmitted their shifu’s teachings but, according to their innate talents, devised new techniques of their own. Yu Lianzhou’s modification of the Tiger Claw Hand was in itself no strange occurrence. Yet when Zhang Sanfeng watched him demonstrate it, he merely nodded, offering neither approval nor criticism. Yu Lianzhou, seeing that his shifu did not utter a word, knew there must be a grave flaw in the moves. He withdrew into deep thought, striving for further refinement. Several months later, he demonstrated them again for his shifu. Zhang Sanfeng sighed. “Lianzhou, these twelve Tiger Claw moves are far more lethal than what I taught you. Yet every move targets the small of the back. Whoever is struck risks damaging his generative power and cutting off his line of descendants. Is the upright and open martial art I taught you not sufficient? Must you, at the very first move, render a man childless?” Yu Lianzhou, hearing his shifu’s rebuke, found himself drenched in sweat though it was the depths of winter. His heart trembled. He immediately acknowledged his fault and begged forgiveness.

Some days later, Zhang Sanfeng summoned all seven disciples and explained the matter to each of them. He concluded, “The twelve moves Lianzhou devised, born of bitter dedication, may rightly be counted a supreme art. To discard them on my word alone would indeed be wasteful. You shall all learn them from Lianzhou. But unless one faces a life-or-death crisis, they must never be lightly employed. Beneath the two characters Tiger Claw I have added the two characters Line-Extinguishing, so that you will remember: this art severs the line of descendants and destroys the family house. It is a killing technique.” The seven disciples bowed and received his instruction. Yu Lianzhou then taught this art to his six fellow disciples. Since learning it, they had strictly obeyed their shifu’s command and never once used it. Now, at this critical juncture, Zhang Songxi proposed it, and Yu Lianzhou still hesitated.

Zhang Songxi said, “This Tiger Claw Line-Extinguishing Hand, once it seizes the loins, will in all likelihood render the victim forever unable to bear children. But I have a notion—we select only monks and Daoists as opponents. Or else old men of seventy or eighty.” Yu Lianzhou permitted himself a faint smile. “Fourth Brother, your thinking is nimble indeed. Monks and Daoists cannot father sons, so it matters not. And old men of seventy or eighty are perfect—the heads of most factions are already in their seventies or eighties!”

The two settled their plan and went separately to inform Song Yuanqiao and their three junior brothers. Each would designate one opponent. They awaited only Zhang Songxi’s cry of “Ah!” as the signal for all six to unleash the Tiger Claw Line-Extinguishing Hand upon their targets. Yu Lianzhou chose Guan Neng, the eldest of the Kongtong Five Elders. He Taichong, zhangmen,⁶ of the Kunlun School, was not yet old, so Zhang Cuishan chose the Kunlun Daoist Xihuazi. Song Yuanqiao, Zhang Songxi, and Yin Liting selected the leaders of the Shenquan School, Jujing Guild, and other such organisations.

The assembled guests in the main hall had finished their meal, and the fire-tending Daoist servants were clearing away the bowls and chopsticks. Zhang Songxi spoke in a clear voice, “Seniors, friends, today is my shifu’s hundredth birthday. We are honoured by your presence, though our hospitality has been most inadequate. Please forgive us. My shifu had intended to invite you all to Yellow Crane Tower in Wuchang to share a drink. Any discourtesy today, he will make up for then. My junior brother Zhang Cuishan has been away from the mountain for ten years and has only now returned. His experiences over these ten years have not yet been fully reported to our masters and elders. Moreover, today is my shifu’s joyous day. To speak of grudges and bloodshed in the wulin⁷ would be inauspicious, and your kind intention in travelling far to celebrate would be transformed into a deliberate provocation. Since you have rarely had the chance to visit Wudang, allow me to escort you to enjoy the scenery before and behind the mountain.” This speech stopped their mouths in advance, declaring that today was a birthday celebration. Should anyone raise the matter of Xie Xun or the Longmen Armed Escort, they would be declaring themselves enemies of the Wudang Order.

These men had ascended the mountain together, and except for the Emei Order, all were prepared to fight in order to force out the whereabouts of Golden-Maned Lion King Xie Xun. But the Wudang Order’s prestige was formidable, and no one wished to be the first to incur their enmity. Had the several hundred surged forward together, there would have been no cause for hesitation. But to demand that someone step forward and strike first—no one wished to be that fool.

Everyone looked at one another. The standoff stretched on for a time. Xihuazi of the Kunlun School rose to his feet and declared loudly, “Zhang the Fourth Xia, spare us the preambles. We honest men do no sneaky work. Let us open the shutters and speak in broad daylight. This ascent of the mountain serves two purposes: first, to celebrate Zhang Sanfeng the Perfected One’s⁸ birthday; second, to ask after the whereabouts of that villain Xie Xun.”

Mo Shenggu had been choking back his anger for half a day. At this moment, he could contain himself no longer and sneered, “Oh, so that is the truth. No wonder, no wonder!” Xihuazi’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘no wonder’?” Mo Shenggu replied, “Earlier, when I heard you had all come to Wudang to celebrate my shifu’s birthday, yet saw weapons concealed beneath your robes, I found it most peculiar. Had you all brought treasured dao and treasured jian as birthday gifts for my shifu? Only now do I understand what sort of birthday present you bring.”

Xihuazi slapped his own body, then untied his Daoist robe, saying loudly, “Mo the Seventh Xia, look carefully. You are young—do not spit blood and spray it upon people.⁹ Which of us has weapons concealed about our persons?” Mo Shenggu sneered, “Very good. Indeed, none.” He extended two fingers and lightly tugged at the waist belts of two men beside him. The move was so fast that with a single pull he had already snapped their sashes. Clang, clang—two short dao fell to the ground with successive rings, their blue gleam dazzling to the eye.

At this, the colour drained from every face. Xihuazi said loudly, “Fine. If Zhang the Fifth Xia will not reveal Xie Xun’s whereabouts, then there is nothing to be done but take up dao and jian.”

Zhang Songxi was about to cry out “Ah!” as the signal to strike first, when suddenly a voice came from beyond the door, “Amitabha!” The name of the Buddha entered everyone’s ears with perfect clarity—pure and bright, seeming to come from a great distance, yet also seeming to sound from right beside them.

Zhang Sanfeng smiled. “So it is Chan Master¹⁰ Kongwen of the Shaolin Order. Welcome him at once!” The voice from beyond the door replied, “Kongwen, abbot of Shaolin Monastery,¹¹ together with my junior brothers Kongzhi and Kongxing, and our disciples, respectfully wishes Zhang Sanfeng the Perfected One longevity through a thousand autumns.”

Kongwen, Kongzhi, and Kongxing were three of the Four Divine Monks of Shaolin. The Great Master Kongjian had already passed into nirvana. That the remaining three divine monks had all come in person startled Zhang Songxi so that the cry of “Ah!” he had been about to utter died in his throat. He knew that with Shaolin’s high-level masters arriving at Wudang in such force, even if the six of them used the Tiger Claw Line-Extinguishing Hand to seize figures from the Kunlun and Kongtong schools, it would avail them nothing.

Kunlun’s zhangmen He Taichong said, “I have long admired the pure reputation of Shaolin’s divine monks. Today I am fortunate to meet you in person—truly, this journey has not been in vain.” Another voice, somewhat deeper, came from beyond the door. “This must be Kunlun’s zhangmen, He xiansheng. A pleasure, a pleasure! Zhang Sanfeng the Perfected One, we old monks have come late to offer birthday congratulations. Truly, we are discourteous.” Zhang Sanfeng replied, “Today Wudang Mountain is crowded with distinguished guests. This old Daoist has merely drawn breath for a hundred years in vain. How dare I trouble three divine monks to grace me with their presence?” The four of them, separated by several layers of doors and halls, each channelled neili to carry on the exchange, as though conversing face to face. Emei’s Jingxuan Shitai,¹² Jingxu Shitai, Kongtong’s Guan Neng, Zong Weixia, Tang Wenliang, Chang Jingzhi, and others, whose neili was not so deep, could not insert a word. The figures from the other factions and guilds felt their inferiority all the more acutely.

Zhang Sanfeng led his disciples out to welcome them. The three divine monks, at the head of nine monks, walked slowly to the front of Zixiao Palace.¹³

Though Zhang Sanfeng and Kongwen and the others were all great masters in the wulin, they had never met in person. By years, Zhang Sanfeng was thirty or forty years their senior. He had his origins at Shaolin. If one reckoned generation by his shifu the Great Master Jueyuan’s seniority, then he stood two generations above Kongwen and the others. But he had neither taken monastic vows at Shaolin Monastery nor formally studied martial arts with Shaolin’s monks, so they now met as equals. Song Yuanqiao and the others were in fact a generation lower.

Chan Master Kongwen’s white eyebrows hung down so far they covered his eyes, like the Long-Browed Arhat. Chan Master Kongxing’s frame was massive, his bearing martial. Chan Master Kongzhi, by contrast, wore a face of perpetual bitterness, the corners of his mouth turned down. Song Yuanqiao privately marvelled. He was quite skilled in the art of physiognomy, and thought to himself, Were an ordinary man born with Chan Master Kongzhi’s countenance, he would either die young or meet disaster early. How is it that he not only enjoys great longevity but has become a master revered throughout the wulin? It seems my knowledge of face-reading is indeed limited.

Zhang Sanfeng welcomed Kongwen and the others into the main hall. He Taichong, Jingxuan Shitai, Guan Neng, and the rest came forward to meet them, expressing mutual admiration. Another round of courtesies ensued. Yet Chan Master Kongwen was exceedingly modest. To every faction and guild’s junior disciples he offered palms joined and a few kind words, causing no small confusion before all several hundred had been properly introduced.

Once the three high monks—Kongwen, Kongzhi, and Kongxing—were seated and had drunk a cup of clear tea, Kongwen spoke. “Zhang Sanfeng the Perfected One, by age and generation, we are your juniors. Today, apart from offering birthday congratulations, we ought not to raise other matters. But I, Kongwen, as the unworthy head of the Shaolin Order, have a few words to speak frankly before you, senior. Pray do not take offence.”

Zhang Sanfeng, who had always been forthright, said without preamble, “Three high monks—have you come on account of my fifth disciple, Zhang Cuishan?” Zhang Cuishan, hearing his shifu speak his name, rose to his feet.

Kongwen said, “Indeed. We have two matters to put to Zhang the Fifth Xia. First: Zhang the Fifth Xia slew all seventy-one souls of the Longmen Armed Escort, which belonged to my Shaolin Order, and also struck dead three monks of Shaolin. These seventy-four lives—how are they to be answered for? Second: our senior brother, the Great Master Kongjian, was compassionate and virtuous all his life, contending with no one, yet was cruelly murdered by Golden-Maned Lion King Xie Xun. We are told that Zhang the Fifth Xia knows that surnamed Xie’s whereabouts. Zhang the Fifth Xia, we beg you to grant us this knowledge.”

Footnotes

1. 江湖 – jiānghú. Lit. rivers and lakes. The itinerant world beyond settled society and official reach, holding not only martial artists but the trades that travel with them. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 武当七侠 – Wǔdāng Qī Xiá. The Seven Xias of Wudang: Song Yuanqiao, Yu Lianzhou, Yu Daiyan, Zhang Songxi, Zhang Cuishan, Yin Liting, and Mo Shenggu, all disciples of Zhang Sanfeng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 虎爪绝户手 – Hǔzhuǎ Juéhù Shǒu. Lit. Tiger Claw Line-Extinguishing Hand. A lethal grappling technique of the Wudang Order, derived from the Tiger Claw Hand but targeting the loins, capable of rendering the victim permanently unable to bear children. Devised by Yu Lianzhou and forbidden by Zhang Sanfeng save in life-or-death extremity. ↩

4. 内力 – nèilì. Internal force. The kinetic manifestation of qi cultivated through neigong. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 师门 – shīmén. Lit. teacher’s gate. The house of one’s shifu: the master, the fellow disciples, and the rules and obligations binding them. ↩

6. 掌门 – zhǎngmén. The head of a martial faction. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 武林 – wǔlín. Lit. martial forest. The community of martial artists and their organisations. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 真人 – zhēnrén. Lit. true person. An honorific title for a Daoist master of the highest accomplishment. ↩

9. 含血喷人 – hán xuè pēn rén. Lit. to spit blood and spray it upon others. A Chinese idiom meaning to slander or fabricate accusations against another. ↩

10. 禅师 – chánshī. Chan Master. An honorific title for a senior Buddhist monk of distinguished meditation practice. ↩

11. 少林寺 – Shàolín Sì. The Shaolin Monastery, the foremost Buddhist martial monastery in the wulin, renowned for its neigong and seventy-two supreme skills. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 师太 – shītài. Shītai. Honorific for a senior Buddhist nun. Shī means teacher. Tài means supreme. ↩

13. 紫霄宫 – Zǐxiāo Gōng. The Purple Firmament Palace. The principal hall of the Wudang Order’s mountain compound. ↩