The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre Chapter 2 Part 2

The two walked slowly up the mountain, and when they reached the monastery gates, not a soul was to be seen. He Zudao said, “I shall not enter. Pray ask that monk to come out and say a word.” Then in a clear voice he announced, “He Zudao of Mount Kunlun calls upon Shaolin Monastery. I have a single message to deliver.”

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Jueyuan,¹ hearing Tianming’s² words, examined the great weiqi board etched into the flagstones. Only then did he understand that this man had come to the monastery to demonstrate his skill. He drew a breath, channelled all the neili³ he had cultivated throughout his life down into his legs, planted his feet upon the iron chains, and began dragging them across the board’s grid lines, one pace at a time.

Wherever the chain beneath his feet scraped, a groove half a foot wide appeared in the stone, erasing the lines He Zudao⁴ had carved. The assembled monks roared their approval. Tianming, Wuse,⁵ Wuxiang,⁶ and the others were overjoyed and astonished in equal measure. Who would have thought this dull, simple old monk possessed such profound neili? They had dwelt with him in the same monastery for decades and never glimpsed even a hint of it.

Tianming and the others knew their own neili, however powerful, could never tread a visible impression into flagstone. Jueyuan managed it only because his two great iron buckets, filled with water, weighed well over four hundred jin.⁷ This enormous weight pressed down through his shoulders to the chains beneath his feet, and dragging them forward was like a great chisel biting into the flagstones. Thus he could erase the lines He Zudao had carved. Had Jueyuan walked unburdened, he could never have done so. Still, even with such leverage, this remained a rare and remarkable feat.

Before Jueyuan could erase all thirty-eight lines, the nineteen vertical and nineteen horizontal, He Zudao called out, “Great Monk, your neili is truly profound! I am no match for you!”

By this point, Jueyuan’s zhenqi⁸ swelled ever stronger in his dantian,⁹ yet his legs, being flesh and blood, had grown painfully weary. Hearing He Zudao’s words, he halted at once, smiled, and chanted, “With a single toss of the sleeve I shall set it aside. Why bother distinguishing between black and white?”¹⁰

He Zudao replied, “Indeed! This game need not be played. I have already lost. Let me test your swordsmanship.”

As he spoke, there came a rasp of steel, and from beneath the yaoqin¹¹ strapped to his back, he drew a long jian. He pointed the jian at his own chest, the hilt angled outward. This opening stance was exceedingly strange, as though he meant to turn the jian upon himself. No school of swordsmanship had ever taught such a move.

Jueyuan said, “This old monk knows only how to chant sutras and meditate, how to dry scriptures and sweep floors. Of martial arts, I understand nothing whatsoever.”

Yet how could He Zudao believe him? He scoffed, sprang forward, and his long jian suddenly curved and shot out, the point driving straight toward Jueyuan’s chest. The speed of this thrust surpassed that of any swordsmanship in the world, for it was not a direct stab but rather a stroke that first gathered neili before releasing it in a spring-loaded strike.

But Jueyuan’s neigong had reached the pitch where it answered his every wish, gathered and released at will. Quick as He Zudao’s jian was, Jueyuan’s thought moved quicker still. Intent arrived and the hand arrived with it, body and will as one. He drew his right hand back, and the great iron bucket on the pole swung round at once to shield him. With a clang, the jian tip struck the bucket. The jian, supple and resilient, bent into an arc. He Zudao hastily withdrew his jian and slashed again, only for the iron bucket on Jueyuan’s left to sweep across and deflect the blow.

He Zudao thought, Your martial arts may be formidable, but those iron buckets are clumsy and heavy. How can they possibly ward off my rapid attacks? Were you to meet me bare-handed, I should be the warier of you.

He flicked a finger against the jian, which hummed and thrummed as though a dragon sang.

“Great Monk, watch out!” he called.

In the trembling of the jian, he launched sixteen strokes to the front, back, left, and right, all within the space of a single breath.

Sixteen times the steel rang out. All sixteen strokes of his Thunderbolt swordplay¹² had struck the iron buckets. The onlookers watched Jueyuan flail about in a panic, lurching left and propping right, looking utterly wretched. He clearly knew no martial arts at all. Yet somehow, in the most clumsy and laughable manner imaginable, he had blocked every one of He Zudao’s wonderfully subtle jian strokes.

Wuse, Wuxiang, and the others could not help but cry out, “Recluse He, spare your jian!”

Guo Xiang echoed, “Do not use killing strokes!”

They all saw that Jueyuan knew nothing of martial arts. He Zudao, in the thick of the fight and exerting his full strength, could not overcome his opponent. How could he imagine Jueyuan had never studied combat? His ability to parry the jian lay entirely in the supreme neili he had unknowingly cultivated.

Though his rapid attacks had failed, He Zudao abruptly bellowed, leapt forward, and thrust his jian straight at Jueyuan’s belly. Jueyuan yelped and, in his desperation, brought both hands together. With a tremendous crash, the two iron buckets clamped the long jian between them. He Zudao tried to wrench it free, but it would not budge even a fraction.

His reflexes were lightning-quick. Releasing the hilt, he pushed out with both palms, sending a force like mountains toppling and seas overturning toward Jueyuan’s face.

At that moment, Jueyuan had no hands free to parry.

Then master and disciple’s bond proved true. Zhang Junbao¹³ saw the dire peril and sprang forward without hesitation, striking at He Zudao’s shoulder with the move Four Passages, Eight Avenues,¹⁴ the very technique Yang Guo¹⁵ had taught him long ago.

At that very instant, Jueyuan’s energy had already flowed into the iron buckets. Two columns of water shot from within, striking He Zudao full in the face. His palm force collided with the jets, scattering water in all directions and drenching both men.

He Zudao had been wholly focused on his contest with Jueyuan, leaving no attention to spare for Zhang Junbao’s palm strike. The blow landed squarely on his shoulder. To his astonishment, this mere youth possessed both extraordinary technique and formidable neili. He staggered three steps to the left, unable to steady himself.

Jueyuan cried, “Amitābha!¹⁶ Amitābha! Please spare this old monk, Recluse He! Those jian thrusts set my heart pounding and my flesh crawling!”

He wiped the water from his face with his sleeve and hastily retreated to one side.

He Zudao’s fury blazed. “Shaolin Monastery¹⁷ is truly a place where tigers crouch and dragons hide! Even a mere youth possesses such skill. Fine lad, let us spar! If you can withstand ten of my moves, He Zudao shall never set foot in the Central Plains¹⁸ again.”

Wuse, Wuxiang, and the others knew Zhang Junbao was merely a menial servant who brewed tea and ran errands in the Scripture Pavilion.¹⁹ He had never trained. Moments ago, through some stroke of fortune, he had landed a palm on He Zudao, but in a true fight, let alone ten moves, a single exchange would see him dead beneath that man’s palm.

Wuxiang declared, “Recluse He speaks amiss! You call yourself the Three Kunlun Sages, your martial arts shaking heaven and illuminating the past. How can you deign to fight this tea-brewing, floor-sweeping servant? If you do not disdain it, this old monk shall receive your ten moves.”

He Zudao shook his head. “The insult of that palm strike, how can I let it rest?”

He turned to Zhang Junbao. “Boy, on your guard!”

With a whoosh, his fist shot toward Zhang Junbao’s chest. The blow was extraordinarily swift. He stood so close to Zhang Junbao that Wuse, Wuxiang, and the others, even had they wished to intervene, could never have reached them in time.

The monks groaned inwardly, but Zhang Junbao’s heels remained planted while his toes pivoted left, his body turning right into a Right-Leading, Left-Arrow Stance.²⁰ Light and easy, he deflected the punch. His left palm curled into a fist and guarded his waist. His right palm sliced outward. This was Right Weaving-Flower Hand,²¹ a fundamental move from Shaolin fist technique.

The technique was stable as a mountain, the palm’s release flowing like the great Yangtze River, truly the bearing of a renowned elder master, not the manner of a youth at all.

He Zudao had felt the young man’s neili when that palm struck his shoulder, far greater than Pan Tiangeng²² and the other two. Yet he was certain ten moves would suffice to defeat him. Seeing that Right Weaving-Flower Hand, a beginner’s form yet executed with surging power and rock-solid stance, utterly without flaw, he could not help but cry out in admiration, “Excellent technique!”

Wuxiang’s thoughts stirred, and he smiled at Wuse. “Congratulations, Shixiong,²³ on secretly taking a talented disciple!”

Wuse shook his head. “He is not… “

But Zhang Junbao had already flowed into Twisting Step, Drawing Bow, then Single Phoenix Facing the Sun, then Second Son Shouldering the Mountain,²⁴ three consecutive moves. His precision was extraordinary, his power immense, his technique rivalling any first-rate Shaolin master.

Ten days earlier, Guo Xiang had given Zhang Junbao a pair of iron-cast Arhats that could perform Shaolin fist technique. Zhang Junbao had activated their mechanisms and studied the movements they demonstrated, learning each form by heart. When a Shaolin master teaches fist technique, no matter how skilled, the instructor’s fists and feet will vary slightly with each repetition. The student copies the forms, and small discrepancies inevitably creep in. The master corrects them, and the student often grows confused.

But these iron Arhats had been crafted with exacting precision. Their mechanism-driven movements never deviated by a hair’s breadth. Over ten days, the moves being few in number, Zhang Junbao had practised until every technique was perfectly fixed, as though cast from a mould. Though the forms lacked fluid spontaneity, not the hallmark of supreme martial arts, the exactness of his execution was beyond human capability.

Ordinarily, such rigid fist technique would prove stiff and slow, hardly first-rate. Yet Zhang Junbao had received instruction from Jueyuan in the Nine Yang Divine Skill,²⁵ and his neili ran deep and abundant. Combined with flawless technique, even Tianming, Wuse, Wuxiang, and the Seven Elders of the Heart-Meditation Hall²⁶ could not help but marvel silently: His forms are remarkably precise, that may be, but such neili…

By now, He Zudao had launched his sixth move. He thought, I cannot even defeat this yellow-mouthed boy. If I dare issue challenges to Shaolin Monastery, won’t the heroes of the realm laugh their teeth loose?

He spun abruptly, whirling like a top, and with the move Tianshan Snow Swirling,²⁷ his palm shadows danced and fluttered, enveloping Zhang Junbao from every direction in the blink of an eye.

Footnotes

1. 觉远 – Juéyuǎn. His name meaning “Awakened Distance” or “Far-reaching Enlightenment”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 天鸣 – Tiānmíng. His name meaning “Heavenly Sound” or “Sky’s Cry.” ↩

3. 内力 – nèilì. Literally internal force. Kinetic manifestation of cultivated qi; generates tangible effects such as deflecting weapons or scaling walls. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 何足道 – Hé Zúdào. His name meaning “What Is There to Speak of?” or “Not Worth Mentioning.” See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 无色禅师 – Wúsè Chánshī. His name meaning “Formless” or “Colourless.” ↩

6. 无相 – Wúxiàng. His name meaning “Without Appearance” or “Without Form.” ↩

7. 斤 – jīn. Traditional Chinese unit of weight, approximately 500 grams or 1.1 pounds. Four hundred jin would be roughly 440 pounds or 200 kilograms. ↩

8. 真气 – zhēnqì. Literally zhenqi. Qi refined through neigong. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 丹田 – dāntián. Literally dantian. Energy centre located three finger-widths below the navel, where qi is cultivated and stored. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 围棋 – wéiqí. Literally encircling chess. Ancient Chinese strategy board game known in the West as Go, played on a 19×19 grid. See Wikipedia. ↩

11. 瑶琴 – yáoqín. Literally jade qin. Seven-stringed classical Chinese zither, prized for its refined and meditative tone. See Wikipedia. ↩

12. 迅雷剑 – xùnléi jiàn. Literally Thunderbolt Swordplay. Swift attacking technique emphasising rapid consecutive strikes. ↩

13. 张君宝 – Zhāng Jūnbǎo. His name meaning “Zhang Sovereign Treasure”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

14. 四通八达 – Sìtōng Bādá. Literally thoroughfares in all directions. Palm technique consisting of four jian strokes and eight forms that attack from multiple angles simultaneously. ↩

15. 杨过 – Yáng Guò. His name meaning “Yang Surpassing” or “Yang Repentance”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

16. 阿弥陀佛 – Āmítuófó. Buddhist invocation meaning “Homage to Amitabha Buddha,” commonly used as a greeting or expression of piety. See Wikipedia. ↩

17. 少林寺 – Shàolín Sì. Shaolin Monastery, the ancient Buddhist monastery on Mount Song, cradle of the Shaolin martial arts. See Wikipedia. ↩

18. 中原 – Zhōngyuán. Literally “Central Plains,” the heartland of Chinese civilisation along the Yellow River valley. Historically refers to the cultural and political centre of China. See Wikipedia. ↩

19. 藏经阁 – Cángjīng Gé. Literally scripture repository. Hall at Shaolin Monastery where Buddhist sutras were stored and monks studied scriptures. ↩

20. 右引左箭步 – yòu yǐn zuǒ jiàn bù. Literally right-leading left-arrow stance. Fundamental stance in Chinese martial arts where the weight shifts to create a stable base for both defence and counterattack. ↩

21. 右穿花手 – yòu chuānhuā shǒu. Literally right weaving-flower hand. Basic Shaolin fist technique taught to beginning disciples. ↩

22. 潘天耕 – Pān Tiāngēng. His name meaning “Heaven’s Tiller” or “Cultivating the Heavens.” See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

23. 师兄 – shīxiōng. Male senior. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Xiōng means older brother. Used here by Wang Nangu as an affectionate address to her husband. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

24. 拗步拉弓 / 单凤朝阳 / 二郎担山 – ào bù lā gōng / dān fèng cháo yáng / èr láng dān shān. Fundamental Shaolin fist forms, here executed with exceptional skill. ↩

25. 九阳神功 – Jiǔyáng Shéngōng. Literally Nine Yang Divine Skill. Legendary internal cultivation method emphasising pure yang energy, capable of granting extraordinary martial prowess. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

26. 心禅堂 – Xīnchán Táng. Literally Heart-Meditation Hall. Most senior council of Shaolin Monastery, consisting of venerable elders who had achieved the highest levels of Buddhist cultivation and martial attainment. ↩

27. 天山雪飘 – Tiānshān xuě piāo. Literally Tianshan Snow Swirling. Advanced technique creating multiple palm shadows to confuse and overwhelm an opponent. ↩