The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 28 – Part 7

The four of them reached the hilltop in moments. Xie Xun's hands moved in short, guarded strokes, defending but not attacking. Only when an enemy's fist or palm drew near did he unravel the technique with his Small Capturing Hand.¹ Such fighting might keep him safe for a time, but striking down his foes was another matter altogether. Zhang Wuji stood beneath a great pine and watched his sworn father's face. The wrinkles ran deep. His hair had gone more white than yellow. Compared with the day they had parted, he had aged ten years. Ten years alone on a barren island, Zhang Wuji thought. The life must have been bitter beyond telling. His chest tightened, and the impulse to rush forward and drive off the attackers for him rose in him like a tide. Zhao Min read his heart. She squeezed his palm and shook her head.

Jinhua Popo’s voice carried across the hill. “Elder Ji,² your Yin Mountain Palm Great Nine Forms³ is renowned throughout the jianghu.⁴ Why skulk about in the shadows of a Cotton Palm? And Elder Zheng⁵ is worse still. You have tucked your Whirlwind Brushing Willow Fist⁶ away inside an Eight Trigrams Fist,⁷ as though the Golden Haired Lion King, Xie daxia, would never notice.” She broke off with a dry cough.

Xie Xun could not see his opponents’ moves, and so fought at a grievous disadvantage. The two elders, Ji and Zheng, were cunning besides. They changed the shape of their strikes mid-attack, so that he could not fix their patterns. But once Jinhua Popo had named the techniques, the fog lifted from his mind. Waiting for the moment when Elder Zheng’s fist-work faltered between one form and the next, he drove a punch straight out. It met Elder Zheng’s own blow blow for blow. The elder staggered back two steps before he could steady himself. Elder Ji swung in from the flank to cover the retreat with a palm-stroke, and Xie Xun had no chance to pursue.

Zhang Wuji studied the two Beggars’ Guild elders. Elder Ji was short and stout, his face flushed a healthy red. He looked more like a butcher at a meat-market than a martial artist. Elder Zheng, by contrast, was haggard and thin, his skin the sallow green of one long malnourished. He looked every inch a Beggars’ Guild man. Each carried eight cloth bags upon his back. Some distance away stood a young man of thirty or so, likewise dressed in the Guild’s colours. But his clothes were washed and pressed clean, and upon his back, too, hung eight bags. At his age, to have risen to eight-bag elder was rare in the extreme. The young man spoke suddenly. “Jinhua Popo, you do not aid Xie Xun openly. But aid by word of mouth counts for something, does it not?”

Jinhua Popo answered coldly, “And you, sir, are also an elder of the Beggars’ Guild? This old woman’s eyes are poor. I do not believe we have met.”

The man said, “I have only lately joined the Guild. Small wonder the Popo does not know me. My surname is Chen, and my courtesy name is Youliang.”

Jinhua Popo murmured to herself, “Chen Youliang? Chen Youliang? The name is new to me.”

A great shout went up. Elder Zheng had taken another punch from Xie Xun on his left arm. Three Beggars’ Guild disciples, who had been watching from the sidelines, now drew weapons and rushed in to surround him. Their skill was inferior to the two elders’, and in ordinary circumstances would have been more hindrance than help. But Xie Xun had not fought another living soul since losing his sight. He had no battle-craft left to call upon. Now, for the first time, he faced foes who wove blades in among their fists. The clamour of steel confused his ears. He could not tell the directions. In an instant a punch landed on his shoulder.

Zhang Wuji saw the danger and was about to move. Zhao Min whispered, “Will Jinhua Popo sit by and watch?” He hesitated. Jinhua Popo still leaned on her staff, a faint smile on her lips. She made no move to help. At that moment Elder Zheng’s foot drove hard into Xie Xun’s left leg. Xie Xun lurched. He nearly fell.

Zhang Wuji had seven small stones already nestled in his hand. He could hold back no longer. His right hand quivered once. The seven stones shot forth and split to strike all five opponents. Before they landed, a black gleam flashed across the hilltop. A sound like silk tearing. Three blades snapped clean through. Four of the five men were cut from chest to waist and fell in eight pieces, tumbling down the hill in every direction. Only Elder Zheng survived, his right arm severed at the shoulder. He collapsed on the ground. Two of Zhang Wuji’s stones were embedded in his back. The four who had been cut down also each bore a stone-wound, but the blade had found them first, and the stones after. Zhang Wuji’s last two throws had been for nothing.

The change came so swiftly that every onlooker’s heart skipped a beat. Xie Xun stood upon the hilltop with a black, heavy dao in his hand. It was the Dragon-Slaying Dao,⁸ the weapon they called the supremacy of the wulin.⁹ He held it across his body, and the wind tugged at his robes. He might have been a god of war.

Zhang Wuji had seen that dao when he was a child. But he had never imagined its edge so keen, its menace so absolute.

Jinhua Popo murmured, half to herself, “Supremacy of the wulin, the Dragon-Slaying Dao. Supremacy of the wulin, the Dragon-Slaying Dao.”

Elder Zheng’s arm lay severed at his feet, and the stones in his back burned like fire. He screamed like a slaughtered pig. Chen Youliang’s face had gone white as paper. He spoke loud and clear. “Xie daxia’s martial arts are beyond all mortal reckoning. I stand in awe. I stand in awe. Release this Elder Zheng to us, and I will offer my own life in his place. I ask only that Xie daxia strike the blow himself.”

The words stunned the onlookers. No one had expected such devotion from so young a man. Zhang Wuji felt a surge of respect.

Xie Xun said, “Chen Youliang. You are a true man. Take the fellow away. I will not trouble him further.”

Chen Youliang said, “I give thanks for Xie daxia’s mercy. But five men of the Beggars’ Guild have died at Xie daxia’s hands this day. If within ten years my martial arts are ripe, I shall return to settle the debt of this day.”

Xie Xun thought, One step from me, one sweep of this dao, and you are dead. At the very brink of destruction, the fellow still found the boldness to speak of future vengeance. There was courage in that. “If I live another ten years,” Xie Xun said, “I shall look forward to it.”

Chen Youliang clasped his fists and bowed to Jinhua Popo. “The Beggars’ Guild has trespassed upon your island. I offer our apologies.” He lifted Elder Zheng in his arms and strode down the hill.

Jinhua Popo fixed Zhang Wuji with a stare. “Your acupoint-strikes are precise, old sir. And powerful. But why seven stones in all? One for Chen Youliang, and one for me, perhaps?”

Zhang Wuji saw she had read his intention in laying seven stones but had not seen through his disguise. He said nothing and smiled.

Jinhua Popo’s voice sharpened. “Old sir, what is your name and surname? You dressed yourself as a sailor and trailed this old woman all the way here. For what end? You play tricks before Jinhua Popo. Do you wish to keep your head?”

Zhang Wuji was no liar. The question caught him short. He could not find an answer.

Zhao Min dropped her voice to a hoarse rasp. “We of the Jujing Guild¹⁰ live by the sea. We follow no trade but the one without capital. The old woman’s gold was generous, so we sailed her a leg of the journey. What harm in that? This brother of mine saw the Beggars’ Guild ganging upon one man and could not stomach it. He lent a hand out of good will. He did not expect Xie daxia’s martial arts to be so formidable. We have made ourselves busybodies, it seems.” Her imitation of a man’s voice was clever, but the pitch still ran thin and piercing now and then, and grating on the ear. Her disguise, however, was so finely wrought that Jinhua Popo saw nothing amiss.

Xie Xun waved his left hand. “I thank you. Alas, the Golden Haired Lion King is a tiger stranded on flat ground, and today it falls to the Jujing Guild to lend him aid. Twenty years away from the jianghu, and the jianghu breeds new champions every day. Why did I ever come back?” The last words were heavy with a quiet, spent despair. Zhang Wuji’s seven stones had carried a force seldom matched in the jianghu. Xie Xun had heard them plainly. He was shaken both by the presence of such a master and by the thought that he owed his escape not to his own skill but to the Dragon-Slaying Dao. Twenty years ago on Wupan Ridge¹¹ he had overawed the gathered heroes with his bare presence. The memory felt like another life.

Jinhua Popo said, “Third Brother, I knew you would not welcome my help, which is why I held back. You are not offended?”

Zhang Wuji heard her call his sworn father “Third Brother” and felt a flicker of surprise. He did not know that Xie Xun ranked third among the four Guardian Kings, and Jinhua Popo looked plainly the elder of the two.

Xie Xun said, “Offended or not, what does it matter? You have returned to the Central Plains. Have you heard any news of my boy Wuji?”

Zhang Wuji’s heart gave a great lurch. A soft hand slipped into his and gripped tight. Zhao Min was warning him not to reveal himself now. He had not heeded her before, and let fly the stones in haste. That had been rash. But he had acted out of love, and could not bear to see Xie Xun bullied. A little more patience now would cost nothing.

Jinhua Popo said, “Nothing.”

Xie Xun sighed. After a long silence he said, “Madam Han, we have been brother and sister. You will not lie to a blind man. Is my boy Wuji truly still alive?”

Jinhua Popo did not answer.

Zhu’er spoke suddenly. “Xie daxia.”

Jinhua Popo’s left hand shot out and clamped around Zhu’er’s wrist. She stared at her. Zhu’er fell silent.

Xie Xun said, “Miss Yin, speak. Speak. Your popo is lying to me, is she not?”

Two lines of tears ran down Zhu’er’s cheeks. Jinhua Popo raised her right palm above the girl’s head. A single word out of place, and a burst of neili¹² would end her life on the spot.

Zhu’er said, “Xie daxia, my popo has not lied to you. This journey to the Central Plains, we have not heard news of Zhang Wuji.”

Jinhua Popo heard the words and lifted her palm from the girl’s skull, though her left hand still held the wrist fast.

Xie Xun said, “Then what news have you found? How fares the Ming Order? What of our old friends?”

Jinhua Popo said, “I do not know. I did not trouble to ask after affairs of the jianghu. I only wished to find the foreign monk who killed my husband and take my reckoning. And to find Miejue, that old nun of the Emei Order, and repay her for the stroke of her jian. Beyond that, this old woman has no concern.”

Xie Xun flared with anger. “So, Madam Han. What did you tell me that day on Ice Fire Island?¹³ You said my Fifth Brother Zhang and his wife would not reveal my hiding-place, and so were driven to kill themselves upon Mount Wudang.¹⁴ You said my boy Wuji was left an orphan, alone in the jianghu, bullied and battered from pillar to post, past all telling. Was that not your tale?”

“It was,” Jinhua Popo said.

“You said a Xuanming Divine Palm¹⁵ had struck him, and he suffered day and night. You said you saw him yourself in Butterfly Valley, and bade him come to Spirit Snake Island, but he would not. Was that not so?”

“It was. If I lie to you, may Heaven strike me down and Earth destroy me. May Jinhua Popo be less than the lowliest cut-throat in the jianghu, and may my dead husband find no rest beneath the ground.”

Xie Xun nodded slowly. “Miss Yin, you truly saw Wuji?”

Zhu’er said, “I did. That day I begged him to come to Spirit Snake Island. He not only refused, but bit me. The teeth-marks on the back of my hand are still there. See, they are real. I… I think of him often.”

Footnotes

1. 小擒拿手 – Xiǎo Qínná Shǒu. Literally Small Capturing Hand. A grappling technique for seizing and redirecting an opponent’s strikes at close range. ↩

2. 季长老 – Jì Zhǎnglǎo. An eight-bag elder of the Beggars’ Guild, known for the Yin Mountain Palm Great Nine Forms. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 阴山掌大九式 – Yīnshān Zhǎng Dà Jiǔ Shì. Literally Yin Mountain Palm Great Nine Forms. A palm technique of the Beggars’ Guild renowned in the jianghu. ↩

4. 江湖 – jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. The itinerant world beyond settled society and official reach, holding not only martial artists but the trades that travel with them. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 郑长老 – Zhèng Zhǎnglǎo. An eight-bag elder of the Beggars’ Guild, known for the Whirlwind Brushing Willow Fist. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 回风拂柳拳 – Huífēng Fúliǔ Quán. Literally Whirlwind Brushing Willow Fist. A fist technique whose movements mimic wind bending through willow branches. ↩

7. 八卦拳 – Bāguà Quán. Eight Trigrams Fist. A fist technique based upon the eight trigrams of the Yijing. ↩

8. 屠龙刀 – Túlóng Dāo. The Dragon-Slaying Dao. One of the two legendary weapons forged by Guo Jing and Huang Rong from Yang Guo’s Heavy Iron Sword. When united with the Heavenly Jian, its bearer may claim supremacy over the wulin. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 武林 – wǔlín. The martial forest. The community of martial artists and their schools, distinct from the broader jianghu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 巨鲸帮 – Jùjīng Bāng. The Jujing Guild. A martial guild whose members make their living upon the sea. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 王盘山 – Wángpán Shān. Wupan Ridge. The site where, twenty years before, Xie Xun seized the Dragon-Slaying Dao and overawed the gathered heroes of the jianghu. ↩

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

13. 冰火岛 – Bīnghuǒ Dǎo. Ice Fire Island. The barren volcanic island where Xie Xun, Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu lived in exile, and where Zhang Wuji was born. ↩

14. 武当山 – Wǔdāng Shān. Mount Wudang. The sacred mountain of the Wudang Order, where Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu were driven to their deaths. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

15. 玄冥神掌 – Xuánmíng Shénzhǎng. The Xuanming Divine Palm. A palm technique of terrible cold, wielded by the Xuanming Elders. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩