The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 23 – Part 2

That day, as evening fell upon the party, Yan Yuan,[^yanyuan] Banner-Master of the Thick Earth Banner, suddenly said, "Something is odd here." He ran toward a row of low shrubs to the left and examined the ground, then took an iron shovel from one of his men and began to dig. Before long, a corpse was exposed. The body had already begun to rot, its features unrecognisable, but from the clothing it was plainly a Kunlun School disciple. The Thick Earth Banner cultists all joined in the digging and soon uncovered a great pit. In it lay sixteen corpses, all Kunlun disciples, piled higgledy-piggledy. Had their own School buried them, it would never have been done so carelessly. This was the work of enemies. Further examination showed every corpse bore wounds. Zhang Wuji ordered the Thick Earth Banner to separate the bodies carefully and give each one a proper burial.

The company exchanged glances, each harbouring the same question: who had done this? After a long pause, Peng Yingyu said, “If we do not get to the bottom of this, the blame will surely be pinned on our Order.” Yang Xiao said loudly, “Listen well! In open combat, under the Order Leader’s leadership, we dare not claim to be invincible, yet we would never lose to others. But hidden arrows are hard to guard against. Henceforth, in drinking water, in food, on the road, in lodging, everywhere we must watch for poison and ambush.” The cultists answered with one voice.

They continued on. The setting sun bled red, and the sky darkened in waves. Just as they were about to find a place to rest, they spotted four great vultures circling in the north-eastern sky. Suddenly one swooped down, then immediately shot back up, feathers scattering, crying piteously. It had clearly been struck by something below and suffered for it.

After Banner-Master Zhuang Zheng of the Sharp Metal Banner had died beneath the Heavenly Jian,¹ Wu Jingcao,² the deputy banner-master, had been promoted to full banner-master by Zhang Wuji’s order. Seeing the vultures’ strange behaviour, he said, “I will go and have a look.” Taking two men, he sprinted toward the spot. After a while, one cultist ran back ahead and reported to Zhang Wuji, “Reporting to the Order Leader, Wudang’s Yin the Sixth Xia has fallen into a sand valley!” Zhang Wuji was appalled. “Yin the Sixth Xia? Is he hurt?” The man said, “He seems gravely wounded. Banner-Master Wu saw it was Yin the Sixth Xia and ordered me to report to the Order Leader at once. Banner-Master Wu has already gone down into the valley to rescue him…”

Zhang Wuji’s heart burned with anxiety. Before the man had finished speaking, he was already sprinting at full speed. Yang Xiao, Yin Tianzheng, and the rest followed close behind. Reaching the site, they saw a great sand valley, well over a hundred feet deep. Wu Jingcao, clutching Yin Liting in his left arm, was struggling up the shifting sand, sinking with every step. Zhang Wuji scrambled down the sand wall, seized Wu Jingcao’s empty right sleeve with one hand, and with the other felt for Yin Liting’s breath. Detecting a faint pulse, he was somewhat reassured. He took Yin Liting’s body and with a few leaps bounded out of the valley, laying him on the ground. When he looked properly, his feelings were a mixture of shock, rage, and grief. Every joint in Yin Liting’s limbs, knees, elbows, ankles, wrists, toes, and fingers, had been shattered. His breath was barely there. He could not move. The cruelty of the attack was beyond anything one ever heard.

Yin Liting’s mind was still clear. Seeing Zhang Wuji, a faint smile of relief crossed his face. He spat out two pebbles from his mouth. It turned out that after he was injured and pushed into the sand valley, his pure neili³ had kept him alive. When the vultures came to feed on him, he had bitten pebbles from the ground and shot them from his mouth to drive the birds off. In this desperate manner he had held on for days. Yang Xiao, seeing the four vultures still circling overhead, as if waiting for the party to abandon Yin Liting before swooping down to feast, picked up four small pebbles and flicked them one after another with sharp twangs. The four vultures fell to the ground, each one’s skull smashed to pieces by the tiny stones.

Zhang Wuji first gave Yin Liting pills to ease pain and protect his heart, then examined him in detail. His limbs had some twenty fractures in all, every broken bone crushed by powerful finger force, impossible to reset. Yin Liting whispered, “Just like Third Brother… Shaolin… Vajra Finger⁴ power… It was Vajra Finger that did this.”

Zhang Wuji immediately recalled what his father had told him years ago about Third Uncle Yu Daiyan’s injury: he too had been crippled by Shaolin’s Vajra Finger power, his joints crushed, unable to move ever after. At that time, Zhang Wuji’s parents had not yet even met. He had not imagined that after so many years, another uncle would fall victim to Shaolin’s Vajra Finger. He steadied himself and said, “Sixth Uncle, do not trouble your heart. Leave this matter to me. I will see that the villain does not escape justice. Do you know who among the Shaolin Order did this?” Yin Liting shook his head. Days of desperate struggle for survival had drained him utterly. Now that his mind was at ease, he could hold on no longer and fainted.

Zhang Wuji reflected on his own story. His parents had taken their own lives entirely because of what they owed Third Uncle Yu. Now Sixth Uncle had suffered the same fate. If he did not force the Shaolin Order to hand over the culprit, how could he face Yu Daiyan and Yin Liting? How could he face his dead parents? Though Yin Liting had fainted, his life was not in danger, but his broken limbs could not be mended. He would most likely share Yu Daiyan’s fate.

His experience of the world was limited, and his understanding too slow for such matters. He needed quiet to think. Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked away to a small hillock and sat down. Two thoughts battled in his mind: should he go to Shaolin Monastery, find the culprit, and avenge his father, his mother, Third Uncle, and Sixth Uncle? If the Shaolin Order would frankly admit the deed and hand over the offender, all would be well. But if not, would the Ming Order and Wudang Order have to join forces against Shaolin? He had sworn an oath with his brothers never to seek revenge or provoke the various schools and guilds, but if the moment trouble came he cast that oath aside, how could he command respect? Once this cycle of vengeance began, blood would flow for generations to come. How many heroes and brave men’s lives would be maimed or lost?

By now the night was fully dark. The Ming Order followers lit fires and set pots to cook. Zhang Wuji sat on his hillock, watching the bright moon rise, until at last he decided, “I will go to Shaolin Monastery and see Abbot Kongwen.⁵ I will explain the whole matter and demand justice.” Then another thought struck him, But if the talks break down and fighting becomes unavoidable, then what? He sighed and stood. I am young, new to this great responsibility, and already faced with this most thorny problem. I want nothing more than to end all conflict, yet murder and blood-feud come pressing upon me one after another. I took on the burden of Order Leader of the Ming Order. I cannot push it away, cannot shake it off. From now on, trouble and difficulty will be endless. How wonderful it would be if I did not have to be Order Leader at all.

He returned to the firelight. Though the others were hungry, not one had touched a chopstick. They all rose respectfully and solemnly. Zhang Wuji felt deeply ashamed. “Please, eat freely from now on. Do not wait for me.” He went to check on Yin Liting and found Yang Buhui had washed his wounds with hot water and was feeding him broth.

Yin Liting’s mind was still hazy. Suddenly his eyes went straight, staring fixedly at Yang Buhui, and he cried loudly, “Xiaofu,⁶ I have missed you so terribly, do you know?” Yang Buhui’s face flushed crimson. Her expression was deeply awkward. Holding the spoon in her right hand, she whispered, “Drink a few more mouthfuls of broth.” Yin Liting said, “Promise me you will never leave me.” Yang Buhui said, “There, there! Drink the broth first, then we will talk.” Yin Liting was greatly pleased. His face lit up with joy, and he opened his mouth and drank.

The next day Zhang Wuji gave orders: no one was to scatter for now. All would go together to Songshan Shaolin Monastery to demand an explanation for Yin Liting’s injuries. Wei Yixiao, Zhou Dian, and the rest, seeing Yin Liting so grievously hurt, were all indignant. Hearing the Order Leader speak of going to Shaolin to demand justice, they cheered. Yang Xiao, because of the matter with Ji Xiaofu, had long felt deep remorse toward Yin Liting. Though he said nothing, he had made up his mind to devote every effort to avenging him, and he ordered his daughter to care for him attentively, to make up for his own past failings.

From then on, the journey was uneventful. Yin Liting drifted in and out of consciousness. When Zhang Wuji asked about his injuries, Yin Liting could speak only in vague terms: “Shaolin monks, five of them attacked me at once. It was Shaolin martial arts, of that I am certain.”

That day the party entered Jade Gate Pass,⁷ sold their camels, and changed to horses. Fearing attention, they bought merchants’ clothes and put them on. Some even drove mule carts loaded with furs and medicinal herbs.

One morning they set out early on the Ganliang highroad. The sun blazed like fire. The weather had turned hot. After more than two shichen⁸ of riding, they spotted a row of some twenty willow trees ahead. The sight cheered them, and they urged their mounts toward the shade.

As they drew near, they saw that nine people were already seated beneath the willows. Eight were strapping men dressed as hunters, with dao at their waists and bows on their backs. They also had five or six hunting falcons, dark-feathered and sharp-clawed, looking fierce and spirited. The ninth was a young lord in a sapphire-blue silk robe, gently waving a folding fan. He could not conceal an air of elegant nobility.

Zhang Wuji dismounted and glanced at the young lord. His features were extraordinarily handsome, his eyes bright, black and white sharply defined, vivid with intelligence. The fan in his hand had a handle of white jade, and the hand that held it was so fair that it seemed of one piece with the jade.

But then everyone’s gaze fell, as if by common accord, to the lord’s waist. A golden hook and jewelled belt held a long jian, and on the hilt were plainly carved two seal-script characters: “Heaven-Reliant.” By the shape and length of the blade, it was the very Heavenly Jian that Miejue Shitai had wielded to slaughter so many Ming Order followers, and that Zhou Zhiruo had used to pierce Zhang Wuji so grievously that he nearly died. The Ming Order company was dumbfounded. Zhou Dian could barely restrain himself from demanding an explanation. Just then, they heard the tumult of hooves on the eastern road, a disorderly group of riders galloping toward them.

Footnotes

1. 倚天剑 – Yǐtiān Jiàn. The Heavenly Jian, one of the twin legendary weapons forged from Yang Guo’s Heavy Iron Sword. When united with the Dragon-Slaying Dao, the bearer can claim supremacy over the wulin. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 吴劲草 – Wú Jìngcǎo. Deputy Banner-Master, later full Banner-Master of the Sharp Metal Banner of the Ming Order. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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. 金刚指 – Jīngāng Zhǐ. Literally Vajra Finger. A Shaolin finger technique of devastating power, capable of crushing bone and shattering joints. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 空闻 – Kōngwén. Abbot of Shaolin Monastery. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 纪晓芙 – Jǐ Xiǎofú. Former disciple of the Emei Order and once betrothed to Yin Liting. Mother of Yang Buhui by Yang Xiao. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 玉门关 – Yùmén Guān. Literally Jade Gate Pass. Western terminus of the Great Wall during the Han dynasty, traditionally marking the boundary between China proper and the Western Regions. ↩

8. 时辰 – shíchén. Traditional Chinese unit of time equal to two hours; the day was divided into twelve shichen. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩