The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 31 – Part 5

Zhang Wuji cried, “You Mongols mean to harm me. I have seen through your trickery. Confess at once, and speak true, or your life is forfeit.” As he spoke he raised his right palm and brought it down on the gunwale of the ship. Splinters flew and a great chunk of the hull tore away. The Mongol soldiers on board were aghast. Basutai said, “Young Master, I beg your clear judgement. I was ordered by my superiors to escort you home. There is no other design. I… I only hoped to win merit and earn promotion. Not a shred of ill intent, I swear.” Zhang Wuji judged his words sincere and released his wrist. He strode to the bow, seized an iron anchor and hurled it skyward with all his strength. The soldiers cried out in a single gasp of terror. As the great anchor fell back, Zhang Wuji pushed it away with his right hand and it flew up again. He sent it soaring several times in this fashion before catching it lightly as it came down. The Mongols had won their empire on horseback and honoured martial prowess above all else. Seeing his skill so surpassing, they prostrated themselves one and all, daring no further treachery.

The helmsman obeyed Zhang Wuji’s orders and steered the ship due east, out into the open ocean. For three days they saw nothing but waves meeting sky. Xie Xun calculated that the cannon-boats Zhao Min had dispatched must be patrolling the waters off Fujian and Guangdong. Their ship had now sailed far into the deep, and would not encounter any patrol vessel. Not until the fifth day did he order the helmsman to turn north. They sailed on for twenty days and more after that. Xie Xun reckoned that even if Zhao Min were ten times as clever as she was, she could never guess where they had gone. He then commanded the helmsman to bear west and make for the Central Plains. Throughout that month and more they lived on the provisions they had brought with them, or caught fresh fish from the sea. Neither Xie Xun nor Zhou Zhiruo would so much as sip the ship’s water.

One day at midday they saw land appear in the west. The Mongol soldiers, long at sea, cheered at the sight of home. By evening the great ship lay anchored off shore. The coast was rocky and the water deep enough to ride close in. Xie Xun said, “Wuji, go ashore and see what place this is.” Zhang Wuji assented and leapt onto the land.

He walked on through forests of lush green on every side. The snow on the ground had only begun to thaw and the path was thick with mud. After a while the trees grew deeper still, ancient pines towering overhead, so massive that several men could scarce have girded their trunks. He bounded up one of the tallest and saw forest stretching without limit in every direction. He had wandered into a sea of trees, with not a soul in sight. He judged that further exploration would yield no more and turned back towards the ship.

He had not yet reached the shore when a dreadful cry rang out, shrill and piteous, plainly from the vessel. Startled, he sprinted back and threw himself onto the bow. Every Mongol soldier on board, from Basutai down, lay dead upon the deck. Xie Xun and Zhou Zhiruo stood unharmed, but there was no sign of any foe.

Zhang Wuji cried in alarm, “Sworn father, Zhiruo, are you unharmed? Where have the enemies gone?” Xie Xun said, “What enemies? Did you see any trace of them?” Zhang Wuji said, “No! These Mongol soldiers…” Xie Xun said, “Zhiruo and I killed them.” Zhang Wuji was still more astonished. “I never imagined these Tartars would dare attempt treachery the moment they neared the Central Plains.” Xie Xun said, “They attempted no treachery. I silenced them. With these men dead, Zhao Min will not learn that we have returned to the Central Plains. From now on she is in the light and we are in the dark. It will be all the easier to find her and take our revenge.”

Zhang Wuji drew in a sharp breath and could not speak for a long while. Xie Xun said coolly, “What is it? Do you blame me for being too harsh? The Tartar soldiers are our enemies. Do they merit a bodhisattva’s mercy?”

Zhang Wuji made no reply. He thought how these men had served him with devoted care throughout the voyage, never once neglecting their duty. Enemies though they were, to slaughter them so utterly sat uneasily with him. Xie Xun said, “The saying goes, ‘A narrow mind befits no gentleman; no ruthless man can call himself a hero.’¹ If you do not strike at others, others will strike at you. That woman Zhao Min dealt with us thus, and so we must give her a dose of her own medicine.” Zhang Wuji said, “Sworn father is right.” Yet looking upon the bodies of Basutai and the rest, he could not hold back his tears.

Xie Xun said, “Set fire to the ship. Zhiruo, strip the corpses of their silver and gold, and choose three weapons for our defence.” Zhou Zhiruo did as he bade. The three set the ship alight and leapt ashore one after another. The vessel was so large that it burned until midnight before the flames died at last, taking the bodies with it, all reduced to ash and sunk beneath the sea. Zhang Wuji saw that not the least trace remained. He thought that though sworn father’s methods were fierce, he was a veteran of the jianghu² beyond his own match.

The three slept as best they could on the shore, and the following morning struck south through the forest. It was not until the second day that they met seven or eight ginseng-gatherers. Asking their way, they learned to their astonishment that they were in Liaodong, beyond the Great Wall, and not far from Changbai Mountain.³

When they had parted from the ginseng-gatherers, Zhou Zhiruo said, “Sworn father, should we silence them too?” Zhang Wuji cried, “Zhiruo, what are you saying? These ginseng-gatherers do not even know who we are. Are we to kill every person we meet upon the road?” Zhou Zhiruo flushed crimson. Since the day she had first known Zhang Wuji, he had never spoken to her in so sharp a tone.

Xie Xun said, “By my own reckoning, I too would have killed those ginseng-gatherers. Since the Order Leader does not wish to take more lives than need be, let us change our clothes with all speed, lest we leave a trail.” He added, “I have heard that in former days, when Genghis Khan⁴ led his armies on campaign, any travellers or herdsmen they met upon the road were put to the sword, so that their movements might not be betrayed. The Mongols won the empire for a reason.”

The three quickened their pace and walked for two days before they emerged from the forest. Another day’s journey brought them to a farmer’s homestead. Zhang Wuji took out silver and sought to buy clothes from the farmer, but the household was so poor they had no spare garments to sell. It was only after calling at seven or eight farms that they scraped together three sets of rags so filthy as to be barely wearable. Zhou Zhiruo had always been one who loved cleanliness, and the stale stench of years’ accumulation in the clothes nearly made her retch. Xie Xun, however, was well pleased. He ordered them both to smear their faces with mud. Zhang Wuji glanced at his reflection in the water and saw that he had become the very image of a Liaodong beggar. Had Zhao Min stood face to face with him, she would not have known him.

They journeyed south and passed through the Great Wall. That day they came to a large market town.

The three made for a great wineshop in the town. Zhang Wuji drew out a three-liang⁵ ingot of silver and set it on the counter, saying, “Settle the account when we have finished our meal.” He feared that their ragged clothes might cause the wineshop to refuse them service. To his surprise the shopkeeper rose with great deference and returned the silver with both hands, saying, “Your lordships honour this humble shop with your presence. A little wine and rough rice are no matter at all. Allow the shop to play the host.” Zhang Wuji was much puzzled. After they were seated he asked Zhou Zhiruo in a low voice, “Have we given ourselves away somehow? Why will the shopkeeper not take our silver?” Zhou Zhiruo studied the three of them carefully. They looked for all the world like three beggars. What mark of distinction could possibly be showing? Xie Xun said, “I heard fear in that shopkeeper’s voice. Let us be on our guard.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Seven people came up, and by chance they too were dressed as beggars. The seven seated themselves at a large table by the window with an air of ownership. The serving boy approached them with every mark of respect, addressing them as my lord this and my lord that, as though they were high officials. Zhang Wuji saw that some of these beggars carried five cloth bags on their backs and some six, marking them as disciples of considerable rank within the Beggars’ Guild.⁶ The serving boy had given the order for wine and dishes but had not yet brought them when six or seven more Guild members arrived. In a short while some thirty Guild brothers had filtered in, among them no fewer than three seven-bag disciples.

Zhang Wuji understood at last. The Beggars’ Guild was holding a gathering here today. The wineshop keeper had mistaken the three of them for Guild members. He said to Xie Xun in a low voice, “Sworn father, we had best avoid this place and stay clear of trouble. The Guild has turned out in strength.”

Just then the serving boy brought a great platter of beef, a roast chicken, and five jin⁷ of white wine. Xie Xun’s belly was empty, for he had not enjoyed a proper meal in all the months on the island. The savour of the roast chicken stirred his appetite mightily, and he said, “We shall eat our meat and drink our wine in silence and be on our way. What business is it of theirs?” He took up a bowl, gulped down half of it in long draughts, and thought to himself, Heaven has had mercy. Xie Xun has been cast upon a foreign shore for twenty years and more, and only today tastes wine again. The wine was fierce but unrefined, a common brew, yet to him it was as nectar and ambrosia.

He breathed out a long sigh of contentment, drained the bowl, and then said in a low voice, “Careful. Two mighty figures approach.” Zhang Wuji heard the footsteps on the stairs and confirmed that the two newcomers possessed formidable martial skill. The moment the pair reached the top of the stairs there came a great clatter and all the beggars in the wineshop rose to their feet as one. Xie Xun made a gesture and the three of them rose too. They sat in a corner at the back, out of notice, but while every other person in the room was standing, for the three of them to remain seated would have invited trouble on the spot.

Zhang Wuji saw that the first man was of medium height, with a refined face and a long, forked beard. But for his beggar’s garb he might have been a scholar who had failed his examinations. The man behind him had a brutal face covered in coarse whiskers that bristled like spears, and a fierce countenance. Had his skin been only three shades darker he would have been the very image of Zhou Cang, the general who stood at Guan Yu’s side bearing his great dao. Both men were in their fifties, their beards streaked with grey, and each carried nine small cloth bags upon his back. These nine bags declared their rank, but were too slight to hold anything of use.

Zhang Wuji thought to himself, The Beggars’ Guild is reckoned the greatest guild in the jianghu. My Grand Shifu told me that in former days the Guild Chief Hong Qigong⁸ was a righteous hero of surpassing martial skill, respected by every man on the white path and the black. Guild Chief Huang and Guild Chief Yelü were likewise men of outstanding talent. But for decades past the Guild has been ill-led, and its standing is not what it was. The present Guild Chief, Shi Huolong,⁹ rarely shows his face in the jianghu. I wonder what sort of man he is. These two bear nine bags, and in the Guild none but the Chief himself outranks them. That day on Spirit Snake Island, when Guild members came to seize sworn father’s Dragon-Slaying Dao,¹⁰ I wonder whether these two had any part in it?

On this voyage the Dragon-Slaying Dao and the Heavenly Sword had been stolen by Zhao Min, but the six Holy Fire Tablets¹¹ still lay hidden in Zhang Wuji’s robe. It seemed that Zhao Min had feared his martial skill too greatly, and dared not search him lest he possess some extraordinary resource even after the Ten-Fragrance Softening-Tendon Powder should have taken effect. Seeing how many Guild members were gathered here, Zhang Wuji dared not be careless. He reached into his robe and felt the six Holy Fire Tablets with his fingertips.

The two nine-bag elders took seats at the largest table in the centre. The beggars returned to theirs and fell to eating and drinking, tearing at the dishes with their hands and slurping from their bowls in a great mess. Zhang Wuji and Xie Xun listened attentively, hoping to catch what the two nine-bag elders might say of business. But the pair drank and ate their fill, saying nothing beyond “Have another bowl” and “This beef is fine.” When the two nine-bag elders finished their meal and descended the stairs, the rest of the beggars were already drunk and full, and they scattered in a crowd.

Footnotes

1. 量小非君子，无毒不丈夫 – liàng xiǎo fēi jūnzǐ, wú dú bù zhàngfū. A Chinese proverb: a narrow mind befits no gentleman; a man who will not be ruthless cannot call himself a hero. ↩

2. 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. ↩

3. 长白山 – Chángbái Shān. Lit. Long-Bright Mountain. A mountain range on the border between China and Korea, the legendary seat of many martial traditions. ↩

4. 成吉思汗 – Chéngjísī Hán. Genghis Khan (c. 1162–1227), founder of the Mongol Empire. ↩

5. 两 – liǎng. A unit of weight, one-sixteenth of a jin, and the unit in which silver was reckoned. Approximately 37 grams in the Ming era. ↩

6. 丐帮 – Gài Bāng. The Beggars’ Guild, the largest and most populous guild in the jianghu. Its members are ranked by the number of cloth bags they carry, from one to nine. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

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

8. 洪七公 – Hóng Qīgōng. The Seventh Master Hong, Guild Chief of the Beggars’ Guild during the events of The Legend of the Condor Heroes. Renowned for his Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms and his love of food. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 史火龙 – Shǐ Huǒlóng. Shi Huolong, the present Guild Chief of the Beggars’ Guild. He rarely appears in the jianghu. ↩

10. 屠龙刀 – Túlóng Dāo. The Dragon-Slaying Dao. One of the two legendary weapons forged from the Heavy Iron Sword, said to hold the secret of supreme martial power. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 圣火令 – Shènghuǒ Lìng. The Holy Fire Tablets, six sacred tokens of the Ming Order, wrought of an unknown metal harder than steel. Each is inscribed with fragments of the Order’s supreme martial arts. ↩