The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 24 – Part 10

Zhang Wuji's left hand drew the sword seal sideways, the wooden jian sweeping across in a half-circle that landed flat against the spine of the Heavenly Jian.¹ Force transmitted through the contact, and the treasured blade dipped at once. Fang Dongbai² cried, “Good swordplay!” He shook his wrist and flipped the jian, its point thrusting at Zhang Wuji's left arm. Zhang Wuji circled his jian back. A crack sounded as the two blades met, and both men leapt into the air. The Heavenly Jian in Fang Dongbai's hand quivered from the impact, vibrating ceaselessly with a low hum that lingered long without fading.

Of the two weapons, one was a treasured jian, the other wood. Yet when their flat surfaces met, the treasured jian and the wooden one were no different. Zhang Wuji’s move was precisely to pit his own bluntness against the opponent’s edgelessness: he had truly grasped the essence of the Taiji Swordplay.³ What Zhang Sanfeng had transmitted to him was “sword intent,” not “sword moves.” He was to forget every move he had seen, without a trace remaining, and only then could he seize its spirit and marrow: in combat, guiding the jian with intent, a thousand changes, ten thousand transformations, inexhaustible. If even one or two moves remained un-forgotten, the mind would be confined, and the swordplay could not be pure. Yang Xiao, Yin Tianzheng and other masters had dimly understood this. Zhou Dian had fallen short after all, and so had worried in vain for half a day.

The hissing sounds in the hall grew fierce. Fang Dongbai’s sword moves were savage and relentless: extremely profound neili⁴ driving an extremely sharp jian through extremely exquisite technique. A cold blue light rippled and jianqi⁵ filled the air. The onlookers felt as though a great ball of snow were spinning before them, radiating a bone-piercing cold. Zhang Wuji’s wooden jian traced circle after circle within that frigid radiance, every thrust describing an arc, every withdrawal an arc. His mind was utterly clear, without a speck of dross. He guided the jian with intent. Each time the wooden blade struck, it was as if he had released a fine silk thread to wind around the Heavenly Jian. The threads multiplied, gathering into masses of floss that seemed to wrap the treasured blade entirely. After two hundred moves and more, Fang Dongbai’s swordplay grew sluggish. The jian in his hand seemed to gain weight without ceasing: five jin,⁶ six jin, ten jin, twenty jin. Occasionally he forced a thrust, but his true force falling slightly short, the wooden jian would drag his blade into several helpless circles.

The more Fang Dongbai fought, the more fear took hold. Three hundred fierce exchanges and neither side’s point had crossed, something he had never encountered in all his years of swordsmanship. His opponent was as one who had cast a great net, tightening it step by step towards the centre. Fang Dongbai cycled through six or seven sets of swordplay, their transformations wild and fantastic beyond measure. The onlookers’ eyes were dazzled. Zhang Wuji continued to trace circles, and no one present but Zhang Sanfeng could tell whether each move was attack or defence. This Taiji Swordplay was nothing but circles of every size, angle and direction. To speak of moves, one could say there was only a single one, yet that one move was endlessly varied. Suddenly Fang Dongbai let out a ringing whistle, brows and beard bristling. The Heavenly Jian surged towards the centre in a desperate all-or-nothing thrust, every ounce of his strength behind that one strike. Zhang Wuji saw the ferocity of the attack and swung his jian diagonally to meet it. Fang Dongbai’s wrist turned, the Heavenly Jian tilting sideways, and with a soft crack, nearly eight inches of the wooden jian’s tip were severed. The treasured blade, unimpeded, thrust straight for Zhang Wuji’s chest.

Zhang Wuji started. His left hand flipped open: the index and middle fingers that had held the sword seal spread apart and clamped onto the blade of the Heavenly Jian. His right hand brought the broken half of the wooden jian chopping towards Fang Dongbai’s right arm. The jian was wood, but driven by his Nine Yang Divine Skill⁷ it was no different from a steel blade. Fang Dongbai channelled force with his right hand to wrench the treasured jian back, but it was clamped between those two fingers as if cast in iron, refusing to move a hair’s breadth. In that moment he had no course but to let go and leap away.

Zhang Wuji shouted, “Let go!” Fang Dongbai gritted his teeth and would not release his grip. In that flash of a moment, a crack rang out. His right arm was struck down by the wooden jian, severed as cleanly as if cut by a sharpened blade. That Fang Dongbai would not let go was because he had already resolved to sacrifice his arm to protect the jian. His left hand shot out and, before the severed limb reached the ground, snatched it. Though the arm was severed, the five fingers still clutched the Heavenly Jian. Zhang Wuji saw such ferocious resolve and was at once startled and guilt-stricken. He did not press for the jian, but said, “I’m sorry!”

Fang Dongbai walked to where Zhao Min stood, bowed, and said, “Master, I have failed. I accept whatever punishment you see fit.”

Zhao Min nodded. “Wrap your arm wound!” Then in a clear voice she said, “Today, out of respect for Order Leader Zhang of the Ming Order, we let the Wudang Order go.” She waved her left hand. “Let us go.” Her subordinates lifted Fang Dongbai, the bald Aer, and Asan, and bore them towards the hall’s exit.

Zhang Wuji called out, “Wait! Leave the Black Jade Bone-Rejoining Paste⁸ or forget about walking off Mount Wudang.” He leapt forward, reaching for Zhao Min’s shoulder. His palm was still a foot from her when, without the slightest warning, two silent palm winds struck from left and right. Zhang Wuji started and flipped out both palms: his right hand met the strike from the right, his left hand met the strike from the left. The four palms collided at once. The incoming force was extraordinarily powerful, and the palm-qi carried a cold so bitter it chilled him to the bone, a cold all too familiar to him. It was precisely the Xuanming Divine Palm,⁹ the very force that had plagued him nearly to death in childhood.

Zhang Wuji started again. The Nine Yang Divine Skill arose at the thought, and in the same instant his left flank and right flank were struck by the two old men’s remaining palms. He gave a muffled groan and flew backwards. His attackers were two tall, thin old men. Each had exchanged one palm with Zhang Wuji’s pair, while the other palm had struck him without trace or shadow.

Yang Xiao and Wei Yixiao cried out in fury and rushed forward. The two old men struck out again. Two concussions rang out, and Yang Xiao and Wei Yixiao staggered back several steps, qi and blood surging in their chests, cold piercing them to the bone. The two old men swayed in turn, then turned and guarded Zhao Min as she departed.

Footnotes

1. 倚天剑 – Yǐtiān Jiàn. The Heavenly Jian. Lit. “Heaven-Reliant Sword.” One of the twin legendary weapons forged by Guo Jing and Huang Rong from Yang Guo’s Heavy Iron Sword. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 方东白 – Fāng Dōngbái. Fang Dongbai, known as the Eight-Armed Divine Sword. Once the foremost of the Beggars’ Guild’s four great elders, famed for his lightning-fast swordplay. ↩

3. 太极剑 – Tàijí Jiàn. Taiji Swordplay. Sword techniques channeling Taiji principles, where softness overcomes hardness and the spirit leads the blade. ↩

4. 内力 – nèilì. Internal force. The kinetic manifestation of qi cultivated through neigong. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 剑气 – jiànqì. Sword-projected qi. The qi emitted by a sword or swordsman in motion. ↩

6. 斤 – jīn. A unit of weight, approximately 590 grams in the Ming dynasty. ↩

7. 九阳神功 – Jiǔyáng Shéngōng. The Nine Yang Divine Skill. A legendary internal cultivation method emphasising pure yang energy, derived from the Nine Yang Manual. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 黑玉断续膏 – Hēi Yù Duànxù Gāo. Black Jade Bone-Rejoining Paste. A rare medicinal salve capable of mending shattered bones and severed limbs. The closest secret of the Western Regions Shaolin. ↩

9. 玄冥神掌 – Xuánmíng Shénzhǎng. The Xuanming Divine Palm. A devastating palm technique that inflicts an extreme cold qi, first experienced by Zhang Wuji in childhood. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩