The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 27: Soaring Freely from a Hundred-Foot Tower

Zhao Min reveals her true identity to Zhang Wuji and demands he help her obtain the Dragon-Slaying Dao, while Fan Yao distributes the antidote atop the burning Wan'an Tower and the six factions' masters make a desperate leap to safety.

Fan Yao walked hand in hand with Zhao Min all the way out of the Wan’an Temple.¹ His heart was torn between anxiety and bewilderment, yet he could do nothing about it, for he had no idea where she meant to take him. Zhao Min pulled the hood of her cloak over her lustrous hair and whispered, “Bitter Master, let us go and see that fellow Zhang Wuji.”

Fan Yao started anew. He glanced sideways at her and saw her eyes sparkling, her pink cheeks flushed, seven parts shy embarrassment and three parts delight. This was certainly not the look of someone who had seen through his schemes. He felt his worries melt away at once. Recalling the way she had behaved when she met their Order Leader last night in the Wan’an Temple. How could those be the manners of two mortal enemies? The moment the thought “enemies” crossed his mind, something stirred: Enemies? Could it be that the Princess has secretly fallen for our Order Leader? He considered further: Why did she ask me to follow her, instead of the more trusted Xuanming Elders? Of course, because I am a mute. I cannot betray her secret. So he nodded and gave one of his characteristically odd, crooked smiles.

Zhao Min said crossly, “What are you grinning at?” Fan Yao thought it best not to joke about this. He gestured with his hands, signalling that Bitter Dhūta would naturally do his utmost to protect the Princess, and would follow her into dragon-pools and tiger-dens alike.²

Zhao Min said no more. She led the way, and before long they arrived outside the inn where Zhang Wuji was lodging. Fan Yao was privately astonished: The Princess is truly resourceful: she tracked down the Order Leader’s quarters with remarkable speed. He followed her inside.

Zhao Min said to the innkeeper, “We are here to see Zeng.” It turned out that Zhang Wuji, when registering at the inn, had used the alias “Zeng Aniu” once more.³ The serving boy went in to announce them. Zhang Wuji was sitting in meditation, gathering his spirit and waiting for the signal-fire to bloom above the Wan’an Temple before going to offer assistance. Hearing that he had visitors, he found it most peculiar. He came out to the reception hall and saw, to his shock, that the visitors were none other than Zhao Min and Fan Yao. He thought at once: This is bad. Zhao Min must have exposed Fan Youshi’s identity, and has come to confront me about it. He stepped forward with a formal bow and said, “I had no idea the honoured lady would grace this humble place. Forgive my failure to welcome you properly.”

Zhao Min said, “This is hardly the place for conversation. Shall we step across to that little wineshop for a few cups?”

Zhang Wuji had no choice but to say, “Very well.”

Zhao Min led the way as before, heading for a small wineshop five storefronts down from the inn. The inner hall held a few sparse plank tables, each with a bamboo tube of wooden chopsticks. It was late, and not a single other customer was in the shop.

Zhao Min and Zhang Wuji sat facing each other. Fan Yao gestured that he would drink in the outer hall. Zhao Min nodded, then ordered the serving boy to bring a hot-pot, three jin of raw mutton, and two jin of white wine.⁴ Zhang Wuji was filled with suspicion. Here she was, a princess by rank, coming to this filthy little wineshop with him to eat instant-boiled mutton. What scheme was she cooking up?

Zhao Min poured two cups of wine, then reached over and took Zhang Wuji’s cup, sipping from it before saying with a smile, “There is no poison in this wine. You may drink without fear.”

Zhang Wuji said, “You have summoned me here, lady. To what end?”

Zhao Min said, “Three cups first, then business. I drink first to show my sincerity.” With that, she raised her cup and drained it.

Zhang Wuji picked up his cup. In the charcoal-glow of the hot-pot he could see the faint trace of a rouge lip-print on the rim. A delicate, elusive fragrance drifted to his nose, whether it came from the lip-print on the cup or from her person, he could not tell. His heart stirred, and he drank the wine. Zhao Min said, “Two more cups. I know you never trust me. I will taste every cup first.”

Zhang Wuji knew her to be full of cunning tricks and was indeed on his guard at every turn. Yet since she was willing to sample the wine first, sparing him one layer of danger, he could hardly refuse. He drank three cups in succession of the wine she had sipped before him, and felt his composure growing strangely unsettled. He raised his head and saw her smiling softly, the wine-vapour steaming her pink cheeks into a beauty beyond description. He dared not look longer and quickly turned his head away.

Zhao Min said in a low voice, “Young Master Zhang, do you know who I am?”

Zhang Wuji shook his head.

Zhao Min said, “I will tell you today. My father is the Prince of Ruyang,⁵ who commands the imperial armies. I am a Mongol woman. My true name is Minmin Temur.⁶ The Emperor has granted me the title Princess Shaomin.⁷ The name ‘Zhao Min’ is a Han name I chose for myself.” Had Fan Yao not told him that morning, Zhang Wuji would surely have been thunderstruck. Even so, her frank revelation of her identity, holding nothing back, took him quite by surprise. But he was poor at pretence and did not bother to feign astonishment.

Zhao Min was puzzled. “What? You already knew?” Zhang Wuji considered that this matter involved Fan Yao and chose to deny it. “No, how could I know? But I observed that a young lady such as yourself could command so many martial arts masters. Your identity must be most extraordinary.”

Zhao Min toyed with her wine cup and was silent for a long while. She poured two more cups and said slowly, “Young Master Zhang, I have a question. Please answer me truthfully. If I were to kill your Miss Zhou, what would you do?”

Zhang Wuji was startled. “Miss Zhou has done nothing to offend you. Why on earth would you kill her?”

Zhao Min said, “If there are people I dislike, I kill them. Must they offend me first? Some people offend me ceaselessly, yet I do not kill them. You, for instance, haven’t you offended me enough?” As she spoke, her eyes brimmed with laughter.

Zhang Wuji sighed. “Lady Zhao, I offended you because I had no choice. But you gave medicine to save my Third Shibo⁸ and Sixth shishu.⁹ For that, I am truly grateful.”

Zhao Min laughed. “You really are rather foolish. Yu Daiyan and Yin Liting’s injuries were inflicted by my subordinates. You do not blame me. You thank me?”

Zhang Wuji smiled. “My Third Shibo was injured over twenty years ago. You were not even born then.”

Zhao Min said, “Those men are my father’s subordinates, which means they are mine. What difference does it make? Do not change the subject. I am asking you: if I killed your Miss Zhou, what would you do to me? Would you kill me to avenge her?”

Zhang Wuji was silent for a long time, then said, “I do not know.”

Zhao Min said, “How can you not know? You simply will not say, is that it?”

Zhang Wuji said, “My father and mother were driven to their deaths. Those who drove them to it were people from the Shaolin Order, the Huashan School, the Kongtong School. When I grew older and understood things better, I came to understand less and less: who truly killed my parents? It should not be blamed on Abbot Kongzhi or the Iron Zither Gentleman, nor should it be blamed on my maternal grandfather or my uncle, nor, indeed, on the likes of A’er, A’san, or the Xuanming Elders under your command. There were so many twists and turns, so many things I cannot fathom. Even if those people were truly the culprits, what good would it do to kill them one by one? My parents would still not come back to life. Lady Zhao, these days all I think about is this: if only everyone would stop killing, and live together in peace and friendship as friends, would that not be good? My parents are dead, and I am deeply grieved. I do not wish to take revenge or kill anyone. I only hope that others will stop killing and harming one another too.”

This speech had been turning in his mind for a long time. He had not spoken it to Yang Xiao, nor to Zhang Sanfeng, nor to Yin Liting. Now, suddenly, in this little wineshop, he found himself saying it all to Zhao Min. The moment the words left his mouth, even he was surprised.

Zhao Min heard the sincerity in his voice and considered for a moment before saying, “That is because you are kind-hearted. If it were me, I could never do it. If anyone killed my father and brother, I would not merely kill their entire household. I would kill every one of their relatives, friends, and acquaintances. I would wipe them all clean.”

Zhang Wuji said, “Then I would certainly stop you.”

Zhao Min said, “Why? Would you help my enemies?”

Zhang Wuji said, “Every person you kill adds a measure of sin to your own soul. The person you kill knows nothing of it after death, and that is perhaps the end of it. But their parents, their children, their brothers, their wives, how heartbroken and anguished would they be? And you yourself, when you think of it later, would your conscience not trouble you? My adopted father has killed many people. I know that although he says nothing, he regrets it deeply in his heart.”

Zhao Min was silent, turning his words over in her mind.

Zhang Wuji asked, “Have you ever killed anyone?”

Zhao Min smiled. “Not yet. But when I am older, I will kill many people. My ancestors were the great Khan Genghis, Tuolei, Batu, Xuliewu, and Kubilai, all great heroes.¹⁰ I only regret that I am a woman. If I were a man, heh, I would truly accomplish some great and glorious deeds.” She poured herself a cup of wine, drank it, and said, “You still have not answered my question.”

Zhang Wuji said, “If you kill Miss Zhou, or kill any of my close brothers, I will no longer consider you a friend. I will never see you again. And even if I do see you, I will never speak to you.”

Zhao Min smiled. “So you consider me a friend now?”

Zhang Wuji said, “If I hated you, I would not be sitting here drinking with you. Ai! I find it very hard truly to hate anyone. The person I hate most in this world is that wretch Hunyuan Pili Shou Cheng Kun.¹¹ But now he is dead, and I feel rather sorry for him. I seem to almost wish he were not dead.”

Footnotes

1. 万安寺 – Wàn’ān Sì. Buddhist temple in Dadu, the Yuan capital on the site of present-day Beijing, where the masters of the six great factions were held captive. ↩

2. 龙潭虎穴 – lóngtán hǔxué. Idiom meaning a deadly dangerous place, literally ‘dragon’s pool and tiger’s den’. ↩

3. 曾阿牛 – Zēng Āniú. Literally “Zeng the Little Ox”. Deliberately rustic alias Zhang Wuji uses when he travels and does not wish to be recognised. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 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. ↩

5. 汝阳王 – Rǔyáng Wáng. Literally prince of ruyang. Yuan title borne by Chahan Temur, commander of the imperial armies and Zhao Min’s father. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 敏敏特穆尔 – Mǐnmǐn Tèmù’ěr. Zhao Min’s Mongol given name; “Zhao Min” is the Han name she chose for herself. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 绍敏郡主 – Shàomǐn Jùnzhǔ. Literally princess shaomin. Imperial title granted to Minmin Temur by the Yuan Emperor; 郡主 is the rank borne by the daughter of a prince. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 师伯 – shībó. Senior lineage uncle. Shixiong or shijie of one’s shifu. Shī means teacher. Bó means father’s elder brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 师叔 – shīshū. Junior lineage uncle. Shidi¹² or shimei of one’s shifu. Shī means teacher. Shū means father’s younger brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 成吉思汗 – Chéngjísī Hán. Genghis Khan, founder of the Mongol Empire. Tuolei (Tolui) was his youngest son; Batu, Xuliewu (Hulagu) and Kubilai (Kublai) were his grandsons. See Wikipedia. ↩

11. 成昆 – Chéng Kūn. Mastermind behind much of the story’s suffering, who took monastic vows at Shaolin under the dharma name Yuanzhen (圆真). ↩

12. 师弟 – shīdì. Male junior. Both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Dì means younger brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩