The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 14 – Part 6
Translation by Jenxi Seow
Zhan Chun returned to the main hall and led Zhang Wuji inside. The moment he set eyes on He Taichong, Zhang Wuji recognised him as one of the men who had hounded his parents to their deaths on Wudang Mountain years before, and a hot surge of hatred flared in his chest. But these four or five years had transformed him utterly in face and figure. He Taichong saw only a boy of fifteen or so, and took no notice of him at all. Seeing that the lad did not so much as kowtow, but stood regarding him with cold, sidelong eyes, He Taichong paid him no mind and asked Zhan Chun, “Where is this physician you spoke of?”
Zhan Chun said, “This young brother here is the one. His skill in medicine is surpassing fine. I dare say it exceeds that of many renowned doctors.”
How could He Taichong believe such a thing? He cried, “Nonsense! Nonsense!”
Zhan Chun said, “It was this young brother who cured me of the Blue Datura Flower poison.”
He Taichong started. He thought, The poison of the Blue Datura Flower cannot be cured save by my own secret antidote. Whoever is struck by it must die. Yet this boy claims to have healed it. There is something uncanny about this. He studied Zhang Wuji for a while, then asked, “Young sir, can you truly heal sickness?”
Zhang Wuji remembered the dreadful scene of his parents’ deaths, and the old hatred for He Taichong stirred within him. But his nature was not one that nursed grudges, else he would never have consented to treat Jian Jie and the rest, nor healed Zhan Chun of her venom. Hearing He Taichong’s blunt, discourteous question, he felt a pang of displeasure, but nodded all the same and said, “I know a little. I fear I am not skilled.”
He Taichong snorted and glared at him, then led him and Zhan Chun into the inner chamber.
The moment Zhang Wuji stepped inside, a strange odour met his nose. After a moment he perceived that the scent waxed and waned in turns, most peculiar. He went to Fifth Gu’s bedside and studied her complexion, then pressed his fingers to the pulse at both her wrists. Suddenly he drew out a golden needle and thrust it into her cheek, swollen grotesque as a pumpkin.
He Taichong was seized with alarm. “What are you doing?” He reached out to catch Zhang Wuji, but saw that the boy had already withdrawn the needle, and not a drop of blood or pus seeped from the puncture. He Taichong’s fingers were less than half a foot from Zhang Wuji’s back when he checked himself. He watched the boy hold the needle to his nose and sniff, then nod. A slender thread of hope stirred in He Taichong’s breast. “Young… young brother, is there hope for her?” For a man of his station to call a boy of fifteen “young brother” was courtesy itself.
Zhang Wuji did not answer. He crawled suddenly beneath Fifth Gu’s bed and peered about for a while, then threw open the window and examined the flower beds beyond. Next instant he leapt out through the window and drew near to admire the blooms. He Taichong doted on Fifth Gu. Every rare and precious flower in the garden beyond her window had been planted for her sake. Seeing the boy’s strange behaviour whilst his own heart was fried with anguish, longing for him to prescribe at once and cure Fifth Gu’s mysterious illness, yet here he was, amusing himself with flowers, how could He Taichong not blaze with rage? But where all remedies had failed, a single gleam of light had appeared. He swallowed his fury at last, though his face was dark as thunder and his breath came in great gasps.
Zhang Wuji studied the flowers and grasses for a while, nodded as though some thought had struck him, and returned to the chamber. “The illness can be cured. But I do not wish to cure it. Miss Zhan, I am going.”
Zhan Chun said, “Brother Zhang, if you cure Fifth Shimu’s strange illness, every soul in the Kunlun School will be in your debt. We must beg you to treat her.”
Zhang Wuji pointed at He Taichong. “Among those who drove my father and mother to their deaths, this Master of the Iron Zither had his share. Why should I save the life of his kin?”
He Taichong started. “Young brother, what is your honoured surname? Who are your father and mother?”
Zhang Wuji said, “My surname is Zhang. My late father was the fifth disciple of the Wudang Order.”
He Taichong went cold. So he is Zhang Cuishan’s son. The Wudang Order is formidable indeed. With such a family foundation behind him, he must have some real skill. He gave a long, tragic sigh. “Brother Zhang, whilst your honoured father lived, I was on very close terms with him. When he took his own life with a blade, I grieved for him without ceasing…” To save his beloved concubine, he lied without a qualm.
Zhan Chun joined her shifu in the deception. “After your father and mother passed away, our shifu wept for them many times. He often told us disciples that your father was the closest and truest friend of his lifetime. Brother Zhang, why did you not say so sooner? Had I known you were the son of Zhang the Fifth Xia, I would have shown you twice the reverence.”
Zhang Wuji half believed them and half did not. But his heart was soft by nature, and he said, “This lady is not afflicted by any strange illness. She has been poisoned by the venom of the Golden-Silver Blood Snake.”
He Taichong and Zhan Chun cried out together, “Golden-Silver Blood Snake?”
Zhang Wuji said, “Indeed. I have never seen such a serpent myself. But the lady’s cheeks are swollen, and when I probed with the golden needle, a scent of sandalwood clung to it. Master He, pray examine the lady’s feet. Are there not tiny tooth-marks on the tips of all ten toes?”
He Taichong hurried to throw back the quilt covering Fifth Gu. He fixed his gaze on her toes and saw, sure enough, that every toe-tip bore several purplish-black bite-marks, fine as grains of rice, such as no one would ever notice without searching for them.
The moment He Taichong saw them, his faith in Zhang Wuji increased tenfold. “Indeed, indeed! Every toe bears the marks. Young brother, your skill is surpassing, surpassing. Now that you know the source of the illness, you can surely cure it. When my concubine recovers, I shall reward you handsomely.” He turned on the seven physicians and bellowed, “Wind and cold invading the body! Yang deficiency, yin excess! All of it nonsense! There are bite-marks on her toes. How could the seven of you, great rice-buckets that you are, fail to see them?” Though he cursed them, his voice rang with joy.
Zhang Wuji said, “The lady’s illness is indeed most unusual. It is no wonder they could not trace its source. Release them and let them go.”
He Taichong laughed. “Very well, very well! With you honouring us with your presence, young brother, to keep these quacks about would only give offence. Chun’er, give each of them a hundred liang1 in silver and send them on their way.”
The seven physicians, escaped from the jaws of death, were every one overcome with relief and hurried away at once, fearful that Zhang Wuji’s cure might fail and He Taichong would chain this “young quack” along with them, and make all eight “quacks” die together with his beloved concubine.
Zhang Wuji said, “Pray have the serving women move the lady’s bed. There is a small hole beneath it, and that is the burrow the Golden-Silver Blood Snakes use to come and go.”
He Taichong would not wait for the serving women. He seized one corner of the bed with his right hand and, with a single arm, lifted bed and occupant together. Sure enough, a small hole gaped beneath. He was filled with both joy and fury. “Quick! Fetch sulphur and fire-smoke! Smoke out the serpents and hack them to pieces!”
Zhang Wuji waved his hand. “That will not do, that will not do! The lady’s snake-venom can only be cured by the two serpents themselves. Kill the snakes and her illness can never be cured.”
He Taichong said, “Is that so? Then I must beg you to explain the matter.” Those two words, beg you to explain, he had not spoken to any living soul since his shifu passed away, save to his wife Ban Shuxian.2
Zhang Wuji pointed at the flower bed beyond the window. “Master He, the lady’s illness arises entirely from those eight bushes of Spirit-Gall Orchid in the flower bed.”
He Taichong said, “So that is called Spirit-Gall Orchid? I did not know its name. A friend, knowing my love of flowers and plants, brought these eight pots of orchid from the Western Regions as a gift. When they bloom they give off a sandalwood scent, and the colour of the flowers is most exquisite. I never dreamed they were the source of disaster.”
Zhang Wuji said, “According to the books, the Spirit-Gall Orchid has a bulbous stem, red as fire, and the bulb contains deadly poison. Let us dig one up and see whether I am right or not.”
By now all the disciples had heard that a young physician was treating Fifth Shimu’s strange illness. The male disciples did not enter the chamber, but Zhan Chun and five other female disciples stood nearby. Hearing Zhang Wuji’s words, two of the girls took iron spades and dug up one of the Spirit-Gall Orchids. Sure enough, the bulb beneath the soil was red as fire. The two girls, hearing that the bulb contained deadly poison, dared not touch it with their bare hands.
Zhang Wuji said, “Pray dig up all eight bulbs and place them in an earthen bowl. Add eight eggs and a bowl of chicken blood, and pound them to a paste. It is a deadly poison, so be most careful when you pound the medicine. Let none of it splash upon your skin.”
Zhan Chun agreed and went with two shimei to see to it. Zhang Wuji cut off some of the Spirit-Gall Orchid’s leaves and ordered someone to dry them over a fire outside the door. He also fetched two bamboo tubes, each about a foot long, and a bamboo rod, and set them aside.
Before long the Spirit-Gall Orchid bulbs had been pounded to a paste. Zhang Wuji poured the medicine upon the ground and used the bamboo rod to work it into a circle, leaving a gap some two inches wide. “When you see anything strange, you must not make a sound, whatever you do, or the snakes will be startled and flee without a trace. Pray fetch some liquorice and cotton wool and stop your nostrils.” The others did as he said. Zhang Wuji stopped his own nostrils too, then took a tinder and set the dried Spirit-Gall Orchid leaves alight before the snakes’ hole.
In less time than it takes to drink a cup of tea, a tiny serpent-head poked from the small hole. Its body was blood-red, and upon its head sat a golden flesh-crest. The snake crawled slowly forth, and behold, it had four feet, its body some eight inches long. After it came a second snake, a little shorter, of the same shape, but the crest upon its head was silver.
He Taichong and the rest, seeing these two strange serpents, held their breath and dared not stir. A serpent of such singular aspect must be venomous beyond doubt. The onlookers were skilled in martial arts and not afraid, but if the snakes were startled away, the lady’s dread illness might lie beyond all cure.
The two strange snakes flicked out their tongues and licked one another’s back and shoulders, most affectionate, clinging and leaning together as they crept slowly through the gap in the circle of Spirit-Gall Orchid paste. Zhang Wuji swiftly placed one bamboo tube at the gap, its mouth pointing inward, and raised his bamboo rod. With a light touch he flicked the silver-crested blood snake’s tail. The snake moved swift as a flash of lightning. All present saw a gleam of silver, and the snake had already slithered into the bamboo tube. The golden-crested blood snake followed and would have entered too, but the tube was narrow and held room for one snake only. The golden-crested snake could not force its way in and cried out in frustration, hu-hu. Zhang Wuji used the bamboo rod to slide the second tube before the golden-crested snake, and it too slithered inside. Zhang Wuji hastened to take the wooden plugs and seal both tube-mouths.
From the moment the pair of golden-and-silver blood snakes emerged from their hole, all present had stood trembling, their hearts in their mouths. Only when Zhang Wuji had plugged the tubes did they breathe out, each without knowing it, a long sigh of relief. Zhang Wuji said, “Pray have several buckets of hot water brought in, and scrub the floor clean. No trace of the Spirit-Gall Orchid’s poison must remain.” The six female disciples hastened to the kitchen to boil water. They scraped away the paste of Spirit-Gall Orchid first, then washed the floor until not a grain of dust remained.