The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 14 – Part 9

Yang Xiao, however, seemed not to have noticed a thing. Only when he heard the joy brimming in Zhang Wuji's cry did a flicker of curiosity cross him, and he cast a glance at the boy's face. Zhang Wuji's face was covered in blood, his nose swollen and his eyes blackened, beaten beyond recognition by He Taichong. Yet even across that ruined visage, plain delight shone through. Zhang Wuji cried, “You, you are the Bright Left Messenger of the Ming Order,¹ Yang Xiao, Uncle Yang?” Yang Xiao nodded. “How do you know my name, child?”

Zhang Wuji pointed at Yang Buhui. “She is your daughter.” He pulled her forward. “Buhui shimei,² quickly, call out to Papa! Quickly! We have found him at last.” Yang Buhui opened her eyes wide and stared at Yang Xiao with bright, round pupils, nine parts disbelief. Whether or not he was her father mattered nothing to her. She asked only, “Where is my Mama? Why has she not flown down from the sky yet?”

A shock went through Yang Xiao. He seized Zhang Wuji by the shoulder. “Child, speak clearly. She… whose daughter is she? Who is her mother?” He gripped so hard that Zhang Wuji’s shoulder bones cracked and ground together, the pain stabbing to his very core. Zhang Wuji would not show weakness, would not cry out, but even so an involuntary Ah! escaped him. “She is your daughter. Her mother was Ji Xiaofu,³ the nüxia⁴ of the Emei Order.⁵”

Yang Xiao’s face had been pale before. Now it drained of every last trace of colour. His voice trembled. “She… she had a daughter? She… where is she?” He bent and gathered Yang Buhui into his arms. Ban Shuxian’s two slaps had left the girl’s cheeks swollen high, yet between her brows and eyes there lingered something of Ji Xiaofu’s prettiness. He was about to question her further when he caught sight of a black silk cord about her neck. He gave it a gentle pull, and there, at the cord’s end, hung a plate of iron, its surface chased in gold wire with the shape of flames. It was the Iron Flame Token⁶ of the Ming Order, the very token he had given Ji Xiaofu. All doubt vanished. He clutched Yang Buhui to him and asked again and again, “Where is your Mama? Where is your Mama?”

Yang Buhui said, “Mama has gone up to the sky. I am looking for her. Have you seen her?” Yang Xiao saw she was far too young to speak to any purpose, and turned his gaze to Zhang Wuji instead, his look one plain enquiry. Zhang Wuji sighed. “Uncle Yang, do not be grieved when I tell you. Aunt Ji⁷ was struck dead by her own shifu.⁸ At the moment of her death…”

Yang Xiao bellowed, “You lie! You lie!” A sharp ka rang out. The bones of Zhang Wuji’s left upper arm had snapped beneath his grip. Thump, thump. Yang Xiao and Zhang Wuji toppled to the ground together. Even as he fell, Yang Xiao’s right arm held his daughter close.

He Taichong and Ban Shuxian exchanged a glance. Both drew their jian⁹ at once, one point at Yang Xiao’s throat, the other at his brow.

Yang Xiao was a great master of the Ming Order, his name long feared across the jianghu.¹⁰ Ban Shuxian and He Taichong’s own shifu, the White Deer Master,¹¹ had died at the hands of a man from the Ming Order. The true culprit was never known for certain, but all of the Kunlun School had long suspected it was Yang Xiao himself. When the He couple had stumbled upon him by chance, their hearts had been like fifteen buckets drawn from a well, seven up and eight down.¹² What they had not expected was that he would suddenly swoon. A gift from heaven. They had struck at once and seized his vital points. Ban Shuxian said, “Sever both his arms first, then speak.” He Taichong answered, “Yes!”

Yang Xiao had not yet regained consciousness. The broken bone in Zhang Wuji’s arm was agony. Sweat drenched his forehead, but his mind remained clear throughout. Hearing the couple’s words, he understood the peril was grave. He stretched out the tip of his foot and tapped lightly at the Baihui acupoint¹³ atop Yang Xiao’s head.

The Baihui acupoint governs the brain’s seat. A tap there, and Yang Xiao woke at once. He opened his eyes to feel a biting chill. The point of a jian pressed against his brow. Then a flash of blue steel, and a second jian came slashing at his left arm. He tried to raise a guard, but it was too late. Ban Shuxian’s blade held his brow fast, and he could not so much as stir. All he could do was channel a thread of zhenqi¹⁴ into his left arm. He Taichong’s jian fell upon it, and at once the point skidded sideways, as though the blade had struck something slick and tough. Yet blood welled from the white sleeve. The arm was cut after all.

At that very instant, Yang Xiao’s body slid backwards along the ground for more than ten feet,¹⁵ as though a cord were tied about his neck and someone pulled with all their strength. Ban Shuxian’s point, which had rested against his brow, now passed across his brow, his nose, his mouth, his chest, carving a long line of blood that sank several fen¹⁶ deep. The manoeuvre was perilous to the last degree. Had the point gone half an inch deeper, Yang Xiao’s belly would have been laid open there and then. The instant his body came to rest, he sprang upright, stiff and straight. The two movements should have been impossible, yet his knees did not bend, his waist did not bow. He slid to a halt and stood rigid, as though his body were strung upon springs and levers, as stiff and uncanny as a corpse risen from its grave.

Yang Xiao had barely risen when his feet shot out in two swift stamps. Ka-ka, and the jian of He Taichong and Ban Shuxian snapped in two. His strikes came one after the other, yet so swift they seemed to fall as one. For all the skill He Taichong and Ban Shuxian had wrought in the sword, no feat of martial prowess could shatter both their blades in a single move. Yet his technique was so strange, his counter so sudden from a state of grave injury, that the He couple, startled beyond measure, had no time to draw back.

Yang Xiao’s feet kicked out again. The broken tips of the two jian flew up from the stumps and shot towards the couple, each aimed at its owner. He Taichong and Ban Shuxian raised their half-blades to parry. A jolt tore through the tiger’s mouth of each hand, and heat flooded half their bodies. They deflected the shards, but the shock of it left them rattled. They sprang back at once, one taking station to the north-west, the other to the south-east. Though each held only half a jian, the yang blade pointed skyward and the yin blade towards the earth, and together they wove the Kunlun School’s Two Instruments Swordplay.¹⁷ Their hearts were in turmoil, yet their bearing was calm and composed, still as mountains.

The Kunlun School’s Two Instruments Swordplay had been famed for close on several hundred years, ranked among the most celebrated sword-arts under heaven. He Taichong and Ban Shuxian had trained together under the same shifu, drilling from childhood to middle age, until the forms were second nature. Yang Xiao had fought the Kunlun School more than once and knew well the terror of this art. He was not afraid, but he knew that to best the couple would take several hundred moves at the least. At present his thoughts were fixed on Ji Xiaofu and her fate. What mood had he for fighting? Besides, the wound in his arm and the gash across his face were both serious. Were the bleeding not to stop, the danger would be real enough. He said coldly, “The Kunlun School sinks lower by the day. I shall spare you this once. Another time I shall settle accounts with the pair of you.” His right arm still held Yang Buhui. His left hand caught up Zhang Wuji, and without any visible stir of foot or leg, he retreated more than ten feet in a single step. He turned, and was already several dozen feet away.

The He couple stared at one another in dismay. This great demon had departed of his own will. How could they dare to pursue?

Yang Xiao bore the two children at full speed for several li,¹⁸ then halted abruptly. “Tell me, what became of Ji Xiaofu?” He had been running at a dead sprint. Yet the moment he stopped, his body stood rooted to the ground, as though nailed there, and did not stir so much as half an inch.

Zhang Wuji could not check his own momentum. He pitched forward, and had Yang Xiao not caught him, would have tumbled face-first into the dirt. Hearing the question, he drew breath in ragged gasps. “Aunt Ji is dead. Believe it or not, it makes no difference. There was no need to snap my arm.”

A flash of remorse crossed Yang Xiao’s face. Then he asked again, “How… how did she die?” His voice carried the first tremor of weeping.

Zhang Wuji had swallowed Ban Shuxian’s poisoned wine. He had vomited most of it, and taken an antidote pill on the road besides, but the poison had not been wholly purged. Now his belly twisted anew with pain. He took out the Golden Crown Blood Snake¹⁹ and let it bite his left forefinger and draw the venom. While it fed, he told Yang Xiao everything: how he had come to know Ji Xiaofu, how he had treated her illness, how he had seen her struck down by Miejue Shitai.²⁰ By the time he finished, the snake had drained the last of the poison from his body.

Yang Xiao asked him to recount Ji Xiaofu’s dying words in full. Then, tears streaming, he said, “That wicked nun Miejue wished to force her to harm me. Had she consented, she would have won great merit for the Emei Order, and succeeded to the zhangmen’s²¹ seat. Ah, Xiaofu, Xiaofu, you chose death rather than consent. Yet had you merely pretended to consent, we might have met again, and you would not have perished beneath that wicked nun’s hand.”

Zhang Wuji said, “Aunt Ji was an upright woman. She would not strike you down in secret, and so she would not deceive her shifu with a lie either.” Yang Xiao gave a bitter, broken smile. “You are Xiaofu’s truest friend after all… And yet her own shifu could bring herself to take her life.”

Zhang Wuji said, “I promised Aunt Ji I would deliver Buhui shimei into your hands…”

Yang Xiao’s body shuddered. His voice trembled. “Buhui shimei?” He turned to Yang Buhui. “Child, my precious treasure, what is your surname? What is your name?” Yang Buhui said, “My surname is Yang. My name is Buhui.”

Yang Xiao raised his face to the sky and gave a long, long cry. The sound shook the trees about them, and leaves fell rustling on every side. Only after a long while did it fade. Then the tears came, until his face was wet. “So she truly bore your surname. Buhui, not regretting. Good. Xiaofu, though I forced myself upon you, you did not come to regret it.”

Zhang Wuji had heard Ji Xiaofu speak of the tragic bond between herself and Yang Xiao. Now, seeing the man’s handsome features and easy bearing, though his years were rather more, he was still a fine and elegant figure of a man, one who might well surpass the boyish Yin Liting,²² Sixth Uncle Yin, in the power to cast a woman’s heart into turmoil. Ji Xiaofu, forced and violated, had at last given him her heart. One could hardly blame her for it. At his present age, Zhang Wuji could not altogether comprehend such things, yet he sensed something of their shape already.

Zhang Wuji’s left arm was broken. The pain was beyond enduring. No herb presented itself for mending bone or easing the ache. He could only set the fracture first. He gathered such herbs as eased swelling and bound them to the wound, broke two twigs and lashed them to his arm with strips of bark. Yang Xiao watched the child set his own bone and dress his own wound with a single hand, his motions deft and sure, and could not help but marvel.

When the binding was done, Zhang Wuji said, “Uncle Yang, I have not failed Aunt Ji’s trust. Buhui shimei has found her father. Let us part here.” Yang Xiao said, “You have carried my daughter across a thousand li to bring her to me. How could I offer no reward in return? Name whatever you wish. There is little in this world that Yang Xiao cannot do or cannot obtain.”

Zhang Wuji laughed. “Uncle Yang, you think too lowly of Aunt Ji, to have let her give her life for you in vain.” Yang Xiao’s face changed. “What do you mean?”

Zhang Wuji said, “Aunt Ji did not think lowly of me, and so she entrusted me to bring her daughter to you. Had I come with requests of my own, would I be worthy of her trust?” In his heart he thought, All along the way, Buhui shimei met with danger upon danger, and I stood in her place more times than I can count. Had I been a greedy and faithless wretch, how would you and your daughter be reunited today? But he did not care to boast of his own merits. He said not a word of the trials they had suffered on the road, and having spoken those few sentences, he bowed and offered a salute, then turned to go.

Yang Xiao said, “Wait. You have done me the greatest of favours, and Yang Xiao has always repaid kindness as surely as he has avenged injury. Come back with me. Within a year, I shall teach you several arts that have few rivals under heaven.”

Zhang Wuji had seen with his own eyes how he had trampled the jian from the He couple’s hands. His martial art was among the highest the jianghu had seen in years. To learn even a single move or half a form from him would be of immense benefit. But he remembered his Grand Shifu’s²³ earnest warning: never to have dealings with the men of the Ming Order. And even were Yang Xiao’s skill beyond compare, how could it match his Grand Shifu’s? Besides, he had no more than half a year to live. What use to him was the matchless martial art of the world? He said, “I am grateful for your kindness, Uncle Yang. But I am a disciple of the Wudang Order, and dare not study the arts of another school.” Yang Xiao gave a soft “Oh.” “So you are of the Wudang Order! Then Yin Liting… Yin the Sixth Xia…”

Zhang Wuji said, “Yin the Sixth Xia is my shishu.²⁴ Since my father’s death, Sixth Uncle Yin has treated me no differently from his own flesh and blood. I accepted Aunt Ji’s charge to bring Buhui shimei to the Kunlun Mountains. For Sixth Uncle Yin, I cannot but… I cannot but feel shame.”

Yang Xiao met his gaze, and the shame within him deepened. He waved his right hand lightly. “I am in your debt beyond measure, and I know not how to repay it. Since it is so, we shall meet again.” His form blurred, and he was already several dozen feet away.

Yang Buhui cried out, “Wuji gege,²⁵ Wuji gege!” But Yang Xiao had unfolded his qinggong²⁶ and in moments was far away. The cry of “Wuji gege” grew fainter and fainter, until at last neither the voice nor the figure could be found.

Footnotes

1. 明教 – Míng Jiào. The Ming Order, a revolutionary cult opposing Yuan rule, centred at Bright Peak in the Kunlun Mountains. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 师妹 – shīmèi. Female junior fellow disciple. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Mèi means younger sister. Here used by Zhang Wuji as an affectionate form of address for Yang Buhui. ↩

3. 纪晓芙 – Jǐ Xiǎofú. Her name meaning “Dawn Lotus.” See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 女侠 – nǚxiá. A title of respect for a woman skilled in martial arts and upright in conduct. ↩

5. 峨嵋派 – Éméi Pài. The Emei Order, a martial faction founded on Mount Emei by Guo Xiang. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 铁焰令 – Tiě Yàn Lìng. A token of the Ming Order, forged of iron and chased with flame patterns in gold wire. ↩

7. 姑姑 – gūgu. Father’s sister; here used as a respectful form of address for Ji Xiaofu. ↩

8. 师父 – shīfù. Teacher responsible for technical instruction and moral guidance. Shī means teacher. Fù means father. ↩

9. 剑 – jiàn. A straight, double-edged sword. ↩

10. 江湖 – jiānghú. The martial world; the circuit of martial artists and their affairs. ↩

11. 白鹿子 – Bái Lùzǐ. Literally White Deer. ↩

12. A Chinese idiom: 十五个吊桶打水，七上八下. Fifteen buckets drawn from a well — seven up and eight down. Meaning: one’s heart in a turmoil of anxiety. ↩

13. 百会穴 – Bǎihuì Xué. The Baihui acupoint, at the crown of the head. Governs the brain and the consciousness. A strike here can rouse the unconscious or stupefy the aware. ↩

14. 真气 – zhēnqì. True qi. Refined qi cultivated through neigong, the active force wielded in martial arts. ↩

15. 丈 – zhàng. A Chinese unit of length, equal to ten chi. Here: approximately ten feet. ↩

16. 分 – fēn. A Chinese unit of length, one-tenth of a cun, or roughly one-eighth of an inch. ↩

17. 两仪剑法 – Liǎngyí Jiànfǎ. The Two Instruments Swordplay of the Kunlun School, a paired form executed by husband and wife in concert, the yang blade and the yin blade weaving together. ↩

18. 里 – lǐ. A Chinese unit of distance, approximately 500 metres or one-third of a mile. ↩

19. 金冠血蛇 – Jīn Guàn Xuè Shé. The Golden Crown Blood Snake, a venomous serpent Zhang Wuji carries for its ability to draw poison from the blood through a bite. ↩

20. 灭绝师太 – Mièjué Shītài. Dharma name Miejue means Extinction. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

21. 掌门 – zhǎngmén. The head of a martial school or Order. ↩

22. 殷梨亭 – Yīn Lítíng. His name meaning “Pear Pavilion.” See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

23. 太师父 – tài shīfù. One’s shifu’s shifu; two generations above. Here, Zhang Sanfeng. ↩

24. 师叔 – shīshū. Junior lineage uncle. The shidi of one’s shifu. Shī means teacher. Shū means father’s younger brother. ↩

25. 哥哥 – gēge. Elder brother; an affectionate form of address. ↩

26. 轻功 – qīnggōng. Lightness skill. Martial art of agility and levitation. ↩