The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 32 – Part 5

Zhao Min lay in the snow, crying out loudly, “General Yalu Buhua, these Han barbarians think themselves so formidable. Today they shall taste the flavour of our Mongol wrestling arts.”

Zhang Songxi called out, “Use Taiji Fist! These Tartar moves are exceedingly strange.” The four men had found their swordplay of no avail, so they sheathed their long swords and adopted the Taiji Fist stance, guarding their positions with the utmost care.

Suddenly Zhang Wuji sat down in the snow and began hammering his fists violently against his own chest. Zhang Wuji’s Great Shift of Heaven and Earth¹ was already reckoned among the most extraordinary arts in the wulin. The four Xias of Wudang had in their lives encountered countless powerful foes and witnessed countless strange techniques, yet this Tartar sitting on the ground and pummelling his own chest was something they had not only never seen but never even heard of. The four had already sheathed their swords, but at this moment of astonishment Song Yuanqiao, Yu Lianzhou and Zhang Songxi drew their blades once more and thrust them towards Zhang Wuji. Yin Liting’s long sword had been snatched away and flung aside by Zhang Wuji, but he still carried Mo Shenggu’s sword at his side. He drew it at once and lunged forward in turn.

Zhang Wuji suddenly swept his leg out in a fierce arc, scooping up a great swath of snow from the ground and hurling it towards the four Xias. This move from the Holy Fire Tablets’ strange arts² had been created by the Mountain King Huo Shan³ for the purpose of murder and robbery. Before he founded his Order, he had been accustomed to waylaying merchants in the Persian desert. When he spotted a caravan approaching from afar, he would sit upon the ground, beat his breast and wail as though bereft of all his kin. The merchants would inevitably draw near to enquire, and at that moment he would kick up a cloud of sand to blind their eyes, then draw his long dao and strike with furious speed. In an instant dozens of merchants would lie bloodied upon the yellow sand, their corpses strewn across the desert. It was a technique of the most vicious cunning. Zhang Wuji now used it to kick up the snow, which served the selfsame purpose as the sand.

In the twinkling of an eye the four Xias of Wudang found themselves battered by flying snow, unable to see a thing before them. The four reacted with marvellous speed, leaping backwards at once. But Zhang Wuji’s movements were swifter still. He clutched Yu Lianzhou’s legs, rolled across the ground with him, and in the motion struck three major acupoints⁴. Following this, he somersaulted into the air, and as he descended, his right knee crashed down upon Yin Liting’s crown, striking precisely the two acupoints Wuchu and Chengguang at the top of his head. Yin Liting reeled in a spell of dizziness and toppled to the ground. Song Yuanqiao dashed forward to rescue him, but Zhang Wuji leaned backwards and crashed into his embrace. Song Yuanqiao had no time to bring his sword back round. He withdrew his sword-fingers with his left hand and struck out with his palm, but before the palm-force could issue forth, his chest went numb. Zhang Wuji’s elbows had struck his acupoints.

Zhang Songxi was filled with dread. Of the four brothers, only he remained, and he could be no match for this opponent. Yet the bond between fellow disciples was weighty, and he was resolved not to flee alone while his brothers lay stricken. He raised his long sword and thrust it thrice towards Zhang Wuji, the blade hissing through the air.

Zhang Wuji saw that, though his opponent faced mortal peril, his footwork remained steady and his sword-play not a whit disordered. The three thrusts came fierce and fast, yet each one still strictly observed the house rules of the Wudang Order. He could not help but praise silently, “Had I not learned this peculiar art, I would have found it no easy task to fend off the combined assault of my four shibo and shishu.” Suddenly he began to shake his head in wild, circling motions. Zhang Songxi remained unmoved, refusing to look at this feigned and absurd display. With a hiss his long sword pierced the air, thrusting straight for Zhang Wuji’s chest. Zhang Wuji ducked his head and thrust it towards the sword-point, then suddenly threw himself face-down and lurched forwards. Four acupoints at Zhang Songxi’s lower belly and left leg were struck, and he toppled to the ground.

The four acupoints Zhang Wuji had struck could only immobilise the lower limbs. He was about to add a finishing blow to the central acupoint in his opponent’s back when suddenly he heard Zhang Songxi cry out in a piteous wail. His eyes rolled back, his upper body convulsed, and he lay stiff and motionless, apparently dead. Zhang Wuji was so startled that his very soul seemed to leave him. He thought, The acupoints I struck just now were no heavy blow. Far from fatal, they should not even have caused a light wound. Could it be that Fourth Shibo harbours some hidden illness, which this sudden shock has triggered? Cold sweat broke out across his back in an instant. He reached out at once to feel Zhang Songxi’s breath.

Then, without warning, Zhang Songxi’s left hand shot forth and pulled away the fur wrap that covered Zhang Wuji’s face.

The two stared at one another, both frozen in astonishment. Only after a long while did Zhang Songxi speak. “Good Wuji, so it is you… you… it is truly you. No wonder we have treated you so well for nothing.” His voice was already thick with emotion. His face burned with anger, yet tears streamed down his cheeks, and it could not be told whether he felt rage or grief. On Bright Peak he had seen Zhang Wuji deploy the Nine Yang Divine Skill⁵ combined with the Great Shift of Heaven and Earth against the heroes of the six factions. The Holy Fire Tablets’ arts sprang in part from the Great Shift, and there were traces to be found. Zhang Songxi’s wit was surpassing keen. He had feigned death to lure Zhang Wuji into close concern, and the moment the young man drew near, he had torn away the concealment.

Zhang Wuji was honest by nature, and his anxiety for his shishu had robbed him of all caution. His heart was as good as dead. He could only stammer, “Fourth Shibo, it was not me… Seventh Shishu, it was not me… it was not me who did it…”

Zhang Songxi laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “Very well, very well! Kill us all at once, then. Eldest Brother, Second Brother, Sixth Brother, you have all seen clearly now. This Tartar dog is none other than our beloved Wuji.”

Song Yuanqiao, Yu Lianzhou and Yin Liting could not move, but all three stared at Zhang Wuji in fixed astonishment.

Zhang Wuji’s mind reeled in confusion. He reached to pick up a long sword from the ground and draw it across his own throat.

Suddenly Zhao Min called out, “Zhang Wuji! A true man endures a moment of injustice. What does it matter? There is nothing under heaven that cannot in time be laid bare. You must find the true murderer of Mo the Seventh Xia and avenge him, lest the Wudang Xias’ love for you be wasted in vain.”

Zhang Wuji started, for he knew her words were true. “What should we do now?” he asked, walking to where she lay. He pressed his palms against the acupoints of her back and waist, circulating blood and qi to release the points Zhao Min had been struck at. Zhao Min spoke in a soft, soothing voice, “Do not despair. Your Ming Order has many experts among its ranks, and I too have no lack of clever men at my command. We shall surely capture the true culprit.”

Zhang Songxi cried in fury, “Zhang Wuji, if you have so much as a shred of conscience left, kill the four of us at once. I cannot bear to watch you carrying on shamelessly with this demoness.”

Zhang Wuji’s face was ashen. He was truly at a loss. Zhao Min said, “We should go first to rescue Han Lin’er, then return to find your sworn father. Along the way we shall hunt for the true killer of your Seventh Shishu, and the murderer of your cousin as well.” Zhang Wuji stared. “Wh… what? What did you say?” Zhao Min’s voice was cold. “Did you kill Mo the Seventh Xia? Then why are your four shibo and shishu certain it was you? Did I kill Yin Li? Then why are you certain it was I? Is it that only you may wrong others, and others may not wrong you in turn?”

These words struck Zhang Wuji like thunder and lightning, piercing straight into his ears. Only now, living through it himself, did he understand how difficult the world was to fathom, and feel in full the bitterness of a wrong one could not wash away. His mind ran only with the thought, Could it be that Zhao Guniang she… she too has been wronged by someone, just as I have?

Zhao Min asked, “You struck the four shibo and shishu’s acupoints. Can they break free on their own?” Zhang Wuji shook his head. “This is a strange art from the Holy Fire Tablets. My shibo and shishu cannot free themselves, but after twelve shichen⁶ have passed, the points will open of their own accord.” Zhao Min said, “Then we shall carry the four of them back to the cave and depart at once. Until the true killer is found, you must not see them again.” Zhang Wuji said, “Beasts and deer pass in and out of that cave. Seventh Shishu’s body will be torn by the wild animals.” Zhao Min sighed. “You are so thrown into disarray that you cannot think of the plainest thing. So long as even one of them can move his upper body and hold a sword in his hand, what beast would dare approach them?”

Zhang Wuji could only say, “Yes, yes.” He lifted the four Xias of Wudang in his arms and laid them behind a great boulder to shelter them from the wind and snow. The four cursed him without ceasing. Zhang Wuji’s eyes were brimming with tears, but he gave no reply.

Zhao Min said, “You four are eminent figures in the wulin,⁷ yet you behave so unreasonably. If Mo the Seventh Xia were truly killed by Zhang Wuji, what difficulty would he have in waving his sword and silencing you all to seal the secret? He could bring himself to kill Seventh Xia. Could he not also bring himself to harm the four of you? If you speak another foul word, I, Zhao Min, shall give each of you a slap across the face. I am a cunning and venomous demoness. What I say, I do. At Wan’an Monastery, out of regard for Zhang Gongzi, I showed you all not a shred of disrespect. Yet the experts of Shaolin, Kunlun, Emei, Huashan and Kongtong, every one of them had a finger severed by my hand. But did I show the Xias of Wudang the slightest discourtesy?”

Song Yuanqiao and the others exchanged glances. They recalled that at Wan’an Monastery she had indeed treated the Wudang Order with considerable courtesy. Though they still believed Zhang Wuji had killed Mo Shenggu, they feared Zhao Min would truly strike. A true man may die but not be disgraced. To be slapped across the face by this young demoness would be a lifelong shame. They fell silent.

Zhao Min smiled faintly and said to Zhang Wuji, “Go and fetch our mounts. Carry the four to the cave.” Zhang Wuji hesitated. “Let me carry them myself.” Zhao Min’s thoughts turned, and she understood his meaning at once. She sneered. “However high your martial arts, can you carry four men at once? You fear that the moment you leave, I shall harm your four shibo and shishu. You have never trusted me. Very well. I shall fetch the mounts. You stay here and guard them.” Zhang Wuji’s face flushed, for she had read his heart exactly. But he truly dared not entrust the lives of his four elders to this girl of unpredictable temper. He said, “I trouble you to fetch the mounts. I shall stay here and guard my shibo and shishu. How are your wounds? Can you walk without difficulty?” Zhao Min scoffed. “However earnest and kind you are, others will not believe you for it. Your warm and loyal heart, they take for a wolf’s heart and a dog’s entrails.” With that she turned and went to fetch the horses.

Zhang Wuji pondered her words. She seemed to say that his shibo and shishu suspected him, but she was also saying that he suspected her. He watched her walk away, her steps slow and uneven, plainly struggling with her wounds. His heart ached with pity and guilt alike.

Zhao Min had not gone far when suddenly the urgent sound of hooves came along the road from the north. One horse in the lead, two behind, three riders in all.

At the sound of hooves Zhao Min ran back at once. “Someone is coming!” Zhang Wuji beckoned her over. Zhao Min dashed behind the great boulder and lay beside him. Seeing that half of Yu Lianzhou’s body lay exposed beyond the stone, she pulled him back behind it.

Yu Lianzhou glared at her and snarled, “Do not touch me!” Zhao Min sneered. “I shall touch you all the same. Let us see what you can do about it.” Zhang Wuji cried, “Zhao Guniang, do not be rude to my shibo.” Zhao Min stuck out her tongue and pulled a face at Yu Lianzhou.

At that moment the leading horse had drawn quite near, and the two behind were pressing close in pursuit, some two or three hundred feet apart. As the first horse drew nearer, Zhang Wuji whispered, “It is Song Qingshu, Big Brother Song.” Zhao Min said, “Stop him at once.” Zhang Wuji asked, “Why?” Zhao Min said, “Do not ask so many questions. Have you forgotten what was said at the Milet Temple?”

Zhang Wuji’s thoughts turned, and he picked up a lump of ice from the ground and flicked it forth. With a hiss the ice shattered the air and struck the foreleg of Song Qingshu’s mount. The horse cried out in pain and collapsed to its knees. Song Qingshu leapt from the saddle and tried to pull his mount to its feet, but the fall had broken its left leg. Seeing the pursuing riders drawing near, he ran towards where Zhang Wuji lay. Zhang Wuji flicked another lump of ice, which struck an acupoint in Song Qingshu’s right leg. At the same time Zhao Min stretched forth her fingers and swiftly struck the four Xias of Wudang’s speech-sealing acupoint, silencing their voices just as Song Yuanqiao was about to cry out. They heard Song Qingshu give a cry of “Ah!” and roll over in the snow.

Footnotes

1. 乾坤大挪移 – Qiánkūn Dà Nuóyí. The Great Shift of Heaven and Earth. The supreme secret art of the Ming Order, capable of redirecting force, reversing qi flow, and manipulating the trajectory of attacks. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 圣火令 – Shènghuǒ Lìng. The Holy Fire Tablets, twelve golden tablets of the Ming Order. Their inscribed techniques contain strange and unorthodox martial arts, said to derive in part from the Great Shift of Heaven and Earth. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 霍山 – Huò Shān. Huo Shan, known in the West as Hassan-i Sabbah, founder of the Persian Ming Order and the Mountain King. Before founding his Order he was said to have waylaid merchants in the desert. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 穴 – xué. Acupoints, the vital nodes along the body’s meridians through which qi flows. Striking them can immobilise, injure or kill, depending on technique and force. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 九阳神功 – Jiǔyáng Shéngōng. The Nine Yang Divine Skill. A legendary internal cultivation method emphasising pure yang energy, capable of granting extraordinary martial prowess. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 时辰 – shíchén. A unit of time equal to two hours; the traditional day was divided into twelve shichen. ↩

7. 武林 – wǔlín. The martial forest. The community of martial artists and their affairs. ↩