The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 21: Resolving Disputes, Facing Six Powers

Zhang Wuji exposes the hypocrisy of the six factions' leaders and faces their greatest masters one by one, using their own techniques to humble them before the assembled jianghu.

Zong Weixia watched Zhang Wuji seize and release Yuanyin with effortless ease, and could not suppress a surge of astonishment. But having already stepped into the arena, how could he show weakness and withdraw? He shouted, “Surnamed Zeng, you force your way into other people’s business. Who sent you?”

Zhang Wuji said, “I only hope the six factions and the Ming Order will make peace. No one sent me.”

Zong Weixia said, “Hmph. You want us to make peace with the demonic cult? Not a chance. That old thief Yin owes me three Seven Injuries fists. Let me land them first, then we’ll talk.” With that, he rolled up his sleeves.

Zhang Wuji said, “Senior Zong speaks of nothing but the Seven Injuries fist. In my humble opinion, Senior’s Seven Injuries fist has not yet reached mastery. Of the five elements within the human body, the heart corresponds to fire, the lungs to metal, the kidneys to water, the spleen to earth, and the liver to wood. These, combined with the yin and yang qi, make seven. Practise the Seven Injuries fist, and all seven are damaged. With each layer of mastery in this fist technique, the practitioner’s internal organs suffer one further layer of harm. In truth, it damages oneself first, and the enemy second. Fortunately, Senior has not been practising this technique for too long. There is still a cure.”

Zong Weixia listened to these words and recognised them as the exact preamble to the Seven Injuries Fist Manual. The manual contained repeated warnings: unless one’s neili had reached the stage where qi flowed through all acupoints freely and one could control its release at will, one must absolutely not attempt this fist technique. But this fist was the Kongtong School’s mountain-guarding supreme art, and the moment Zong Weixia’s neili had shown promise, he had begun training. Once he started, he immediately felt the technique’s boundless power. Having sunk so deep, he could not stop, and had long since cast the manual’s warnings to the wind. Moreover, every Kongtong master practised it. How could he, ranked among the Five Elders, fall behind? Only now, hearing Zhang Wuji’s words, did a cold shock run through him. “How… how do you know this?”

Zhang Wuji did not answer his question directly. Instead he said, “Senior, please press your shoulder at the Yunmen acupoint. Do you feel a faint, lingering pain there? The Yunmen point belongs to the lungs. That is your lung meridian damaged. Does your upper arm tingle and itch at the Qingling point? The Qingling point belongs to the heart. That is your heart meridian damaged. Does your leg ache at the Wuli point whenever the weather turns damp? The Wuli point belongs to the liver. That is your liver meridian damaged. The further you practise, the worse these symptoms become. In eight or nine more years, you will be paralysed from head to foot.”

Zong Weixia listened with his whole attention, and beads of sweat seeped from his forehead one by one. For Zhang Wuji, having been taught the Seven Injuries fist’s principles by Xie Xun, understood its theory thoroughly, and combined with his deep study of medicine, he could describe the symptoms of meridian damage with unerring precision. Zong Weixia had indeed suffered these ailments in recent years, but because they were not yet severe and he secretly dreaded them, he had buried his head in the sand, refusing to acknowledge them. Now hearing each one named aloud, his face went ashen. After a long silence he asked, “You… how do you know this?”

Zhang Wuji gave a faint smile. “I have some knowledge of medicine. If Senior trusts me, once this matter is settled, I can try to dispel these pains for you. But the Seven Injuries fist does more harm than good. You must not practise it any further.”

Zong Weixia forced a retort: “The Seven Injuries fist is my Kongtong School’s supreme art. How can you say it does more harm than good? In years past, my grandmaster Mu Lingzi used the Seven Injuries fist to awe the world, his name known across the four seas, and he lived to ninety-one. How do you explain that?”

Zhang Wuji said, “Grandmaster Mu must have possessed extraordinarily profound neili, which allowed him to practise safely, not only without harm, but actually strengthening his internal organs. In my opinion, unless Senior’s neili has reached Grandmaster Mu’s level, forcing the technique will ultimately prove futile.”

Zong Weixia was a renowned elder of the Kongtong School, and he knew the young man’s words were not without reason. He also knew his own neili fell far short of his grandmaster’s. But here, before the assembled masters of every school, this youth was declaring his school’s supreme art useless, how could he not burn with anger? He roared, “Who are you to judge whether my Kongtong School’s supreme art is useful or not? You say it’s useless, then let’s see you try it!”

Zhang Wuji gave a faint smile. “The Seven Injuries fist is indeed a marvellous and profound art. Its power blends hardness within softness and softness within hardness, seven different fist forces, each distinct, expanding and contracting, flashing and shifting, its transformations beyond count, impossible for the opponent to guard against or deflect…”

Zong Weixia heard him praising the Seven Injuries fist, each phrase precisely on point, and could not help a smile, nodding his head, until Zhang Wuji continued, “…I merely say that unless one’s neili cultivation has reached the necessary level, practising it does no good.”

Zhou Zhiruo hid behind her shijie,¹ turning sideways to watch Zhang Wuji. His face still carried the childish softness of youth, yet he was doing his best to affect the seasoned bearing of a man of wide experience, discoursing so confidently and lecturing the second elder of the Kongtong Five Elders. It was somewhat ridiculous, and she could not help but find it so, but she also feared he would end up having to fight, and her heart ached with worry for him.

Among the Kongtong School’s younger, hot-tempered disciples, several could not bear Zhang Wuji’s increasingly disrespectful words and opened their mouths to shout him down. But seeing Zong Weixia’s grave expression as he listened intently to the young man’s speech, they swallowed their retorts.

Zong Weixia said, “So you’re saying my neili has not yet reached mastery?”

Zhang Wuji said, “Whether Senior’s neili has reached mastery, I would not presume to say. But since practising this Seven Injuries fist has harmed you, might I suggest you stop for now…”

He had barely finished speaking when a voice erupted from behind, “Second Brother, what’s all this chatter with the boy? He looks down on our Seven Injuries fist. Let him taste one!” The voice arrived with the fist, swift and vicious, a howling wind of qi, the great fist aimed straight at the Lingtai acupoint on Zhang Wuji’s back.

Zhang Wuji had been aware of the attack behind him all along, but paid it no heed, continuing to Zong Weixia: “Senior Zong…” A sharp clatter of iron chains rang out, and someone darted forward with a girlish shout, “You’re attacking by stealth!” The chain flew toward the attacker’s head. It was Xiao Zhao. The man’s left hand flipped up, deflecting the chain, and bang, his fist landed solidly on Zhang Wuji’s back. The blow struck the Lingtai acupoint full on, yet Zhang Wuji seemed entirely unaffected. He turned to Xiao Zhao with a smile: “Xiao Zhao, don’t worry. A Seven Injuries fist like that won’t do much damage.”

Xiao Zhao exhaled, her pale face flushing pink. “I forgot you’ve already practised…” She stopped short, dragging her chains back and retreating.

Zhang Wuji turned to face his attacker, a thin, big-headed old man. This was Chang Jingzhi, fourth of the Kongtong Five Elders. His fist had struck a vital acupoint, yet the young man showed no reaction at all. Chang Jingzhi was dumbfounded. “You… you’ve mastered the Indestructible Diamond Body technique, then you’re from Shaolin!”

Zhang Wuji said, “I am not a Shaolin disciple…”

Chang Jingzhi knew that all protective divine arts relied on a single concentration of zhenqi. The moment one opened one’s mouth to speak, the qi dispersed. Before Zhang Wuji could finish his sentence, Chang Jingzhi launched another punch, bang, this time into his chest.

Zhang Wuji laughed, “I was just saying that without neili as a foundation, the Seven Injuries fist isn’t much use. If you don’t believe me, try another punch.”

Chang Jingzhi’s fists flew like wind, bang, bang, two more in rapid succession. Four devastating punches in total, each clearly connecting, yet Zhang Wuji accepted them all with a cheerful grin, as though they caused no more sensation than a breeze across the skin or a silk thread brushing his body.

Chang Jingzhi’s nickname was “One Punch Shatters the Mountain”, an exaggeration, certainly, but his fist power was well known among the older generation of martial artists. Seeing him throw four consecutive punches that amounted to nothing but wasted effort, everyone was shocked. Someone from the Kunlun School, which had never been on good terms with the Kongtong School, called out coldly, “Fine display of ‘One Punch Shatters the Mountain’!” Another added, “So what does four punches shatter?” Fortunately, Chang Jingzhi’s face was naturally dark, so even when it flushed crimson, it wasn’t too obvious.

Zong Weixia clasped his fist. “Young xia Zeng’s divine skill, impressive, truly impressive. May this old man have the honour of three moves?” He knew his own Seven Injuries fist ran far deeper than Chang Jingzhi’s. If the fourth elder couldn’t budge the boy, perhaps he himself could.

Zhang Wuji said, “The Kongtong School’s supreme art, the Seven Injuries fist, if truly mastered, it can indeed overcome anything. Shaolin’s Divine Monk Kongjian possessed the Indestructible Diamond Body technique, yet still fell to your school’s Seven Injuries fist. My martial arts are nowhere near Divine Monk Kongjian’s. How could I hope to withstand it? But I will do my best to accept your three punches.” His meaning was clear: the Seven Injuries fist is indeed excellent. It’s just that you haven’t come close to mastering it.

Zong Weixia had no time to parse his double meaning. He gathered his zhenqi, stepped forward, his arm bones cracking, and, bang, drove his fist into Zhang Wuji’s chest. The moment his knuckles met Zhang Wuji’s body, he felt an extraordinarily powerful adhesive force grip his fist, as though he could not pull it back. Alarmed, he then felt a warm, gentle force transmit from his knuckles straight into his dantian, filling his chest and belly with an unspeakable comfort. He froze, drew back his arm, and struck again, this time into Zhang Wuji’s lower abdomen. The rebounding force was immense. He stumbled back a step before regaining his footing. He circulated his qi several times, then charged forward once more and threw a full-power punch.

Chang Jingzhi stood at Zhang Wuji’s side. Seeing Zong Weixia’s face alternate between red and white as though he had suffered internal injury, he launched his own punch the moment Zong Weixia threw his third: Zong Weixia striking the chest, Chang Jingzhi the back, a pincer attack of devastating force. But the instant both fists met Zhang Wuji’s body, it was as though they had struck empty air. Their combined, tremendous power dissolved without trace.

Chang Jingzhi knew that, given his standing and reputation, the first sneak attack was barely defensible: one could claim righteous indignation at the young man’s insults to the Kongtong School’s supreme art. But this second attack was plainly despicable. He had calculated that their combined Seven Injuries fist power should easily kill the boy, and once dead, whatever people said afterward, at least he would have removed an obstacle for the six factions and earned a great merit. But the moment his fist power touched the boy, it vanished. Why? He hadn’t the faintest idea. His right hand went up to scratch his head.

Footnotes

1. 师姊 – shījiě. Female senior. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Jiě means older sister. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩