The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 38 – Part 2

Zhao Min leaned close to Fan Yao and whispered, "Great Master Ku,[^kutoutuo] I never expected the Emei Order still held such a deadly trick. Back in Wan'an Monastery, when Miejue Shitai[^shitai] would rather die than leave the pagoda to fight, I suspect it was precisely for this reason." Fan Yao shook his head, his mind working bitterly to unravel the method for countering that move. He sat lost in thought for a long while, then suddenly turned to Zhang Wuji and said, "Order Leader, this subordinate would like to learn a set of martial arts from you." He pressed both palms flat upon the table, extended one forefinger from each hand, one ahead and one behind, and moved them with extraordinary nimbleness through seven successive gestures. In a low voice he said, "If I attack in this manner with both arms, so long as I can entangle the lad's arm and channel my neili,[^neili] I can shatter the joints of his limb. However formidable his finger-force may be, he will find himself unable to deploy it." Zhang Wuji likewise extended both forefingers, hooking left and crossing right, and said, "Beware his finger-force thrusting at your arms." Fan Yao nodded in agreement and said, "I shall seize his wrist with qinna[^qinna] and strike his lower body with the eighteen routes of the Mandarin Duck Continuous Legs." Zhang Wuji said, "Press the attack with eighty-one moves and give him no room to breathe."

The four fingers of the two men advanced and withdrew in swift alternation, attacking and defending with unparalleled speed. Fan Yao suddenly smiled and said, “Order Leader, these moves of yours are too marvellous by half. The lad has nothing beyond his finger-force; his martial arts are limited. These few moves, I daresay, he cannot produce.” Zhang Wuji smiled in return and said, “If he cannot produce these three moves, then you, Right Envoy Fan, have already won.” His left forefinger traced two circles, and his right forefinger suddenly darted through the rings and hooked Fan Yao’s finger. He smiled and said nothing.

Fan Yao started, then cried with delight, “Many thanks, Order Leader, for the instruction. These four moves pass all understanding and have greatly enlightened this subordinate. I positively wish I could take you as my master.”

Zhang Wuji said, “This is the ‘Ring-Entangling Formula’ from the Taiji Fist¹ handed down by my Grand Shifu.² The essential principle lies in the several circles traced by the left hand. Though this fellow surnamed Song comes from the Wudang Order, I doubt he has fathomed these subtle depths.”

Fan Yao now had a plan fully formed in his mind and was confident he could defeat Song Qingshu. Only, Song Qingshu had won two bouts in succession and by the rules ought to retire and rest. He would have to wait until the young man entered the lists again before stepping forward to challenge him.

Zhao Min smiled faintly, her expression pleasant, and stepped aside. Zhang Wuji walked to her side and asked in a low voice, “Sister Min, what has made you so happy?” Zhao Min’s jade cheeks flushed and she lowered her head. “You taught Right Envoy Fan those moves only so he might shatter Song Qingshu’s arms, yet you did not tell him to take the fellow’s life. That makes me very happy indeed.” Zhang Wuji said, “Song Qingshu has done much that is unrighteous, yet he is still my Eldest Shibo’s only beloved son. It ought to be for my Eldest Shibo to deal with him himself. Were I to have Right Envoy Fan… take his life, I could not face my Eldest Shibo.” Zhao Min laughed, “If you killed him, Sister Zhou would become a widow, and you could gather up the spilled water once more. Would that not be splendid?” Zhang Wuji laughed, “Would you permit it or not?” Zhao Min smiled, “I would seek it and not find it wanting. Wait until you are of two minds again, and then she can use her fingers to poke five holes in your chest.”

While Zhang Wuji was sparring with Fan Yao and trading jests with Zhao Min, Song Qingshu had already retired to the thatched shelter under the guard of the eight Emei women. The heroes, having witnessed those two hair-raising, ruthless bouts in which he had killed with five fingers, could not help but feel chilled to the bone. None was willing to step forward and risk his life.

After a short while, Song Qingshu drifted back into the arena, clasped his fists, and said, “This one has finished resting. Which further hero would deign to instruct me?”

Fan Yao called out, “Let me test the Emei Order’s peerless arts.” He was about to leap forward when suddenly a grey shadow flickered and a man stood before Song Qingshu. Turning to Fan Yao, the newcomer said, “Great Master Fan, pray let me have this one.” The man’s bearing was grave and composed. He stood with his feet neither in the ding nor the ba stance, his spirit gathered and his will held fast. It was none other than Yu Lianzhou, the Second Xia of the Wudang Order.³ Fan Yao, seeing that he had already stepped out and knowing him to be the Order Leader’s shibo,⁴ naturally would not contend with him for the bout. He said, “Today Fan is fortunate indeed to witness the divine skill of Yu the Second Xia of the Wudang Order.” Yu Lianzhou replied, “I dare not deserve such praise.”

Song Qingshu had feared this shishu⁵ since childhood. Now, seeing him regulate his breath and marshal his neili, bracing himself grimly for battle, he knew that what lay ahead was no longer the giving and taking of practice on Mount Wudang, but a struggle between life and death. Though he had since learned extraordinary martial arts of a different school, fear could not be wholly banished.

Yu Lianzhou clasped his fists and said, “Young Xia Song, please begin!” This bow, and the form of address, made plain his meaning: he dared not show the slightest contempt for Song Qingshu, yet neither did he harbour the faintest trace of fellow-feeling. Song Qingshu said not a word but bent at the waist and returned the courtesy. Yu Lianzhou launched a palm-strike straight at his face with a gust of wind.

Yu Lianzhou had been famous for over thirty years, yet few in the wulin⁶ had ever seen him display his skill in person. Only now did they witness him deflect the devastating ferocity of the Thunderclap Firecracker Bomb⁷ with the soft force of his twin palms, his gongfu⁸ of such purity as the world rarely sees. The onlookers had always understood that the Wudang Order’s martial arts emphasised overcoming hardness with softness, and that Taiji Fist moved slowly with subtle and intricate changes. Who could have imagined that Yu Lianzhou’s palms moved swift as wind, his techniques astonishingly fast? In the space of a breath Song Qingshu had already taken a kick to the waist and a palm-strike to the leg.

Song Qingshu was aghast. “My Grand Shifu and my father both intended me to become the Wudang Order’s third-generation zhangmen.⁹ They would not have kept any martial art hidden from me. This set of swift fists and swift legs from Second Shibo Yu—I have learned every move. But how can he strike so fast? Does that not violate the cardinal prohibition of our school’s gongfu? Yet how can it be so devastating?” He tried to deploy the finger-skills Zhou Zhiruo had taught him, but Yu Lianzhou pressed him so hard he could scarce draw breath and was forced to retreat again and again, struggling to defend his gate.

The heroes watched the combat with rapt attention. Though Yu Lianzhou held the advantage, Song Qingshu’s earlier victories over the two elders of the Beggars’ Guild had both been comebacks—snatching a killing blow from the jaws of defeat. The same reversal might yet occur. But Yu Lianzhou fought ever faster, each move and stance nevertheless clear as crystal, like a master singer who, even at the swiftest passage, articulates every beat and syllable with crisp precision, never the slightest blur or drag. The onlookers rose to their feet one after another. Some at the back climbed onto chairs and tables for a better view. All cried out in admiration, “Yu the Second Xia of the Wudang lives up to his name! This relentless flurry of dozens of strikes, delivered in a single breath, and not one move repeated!”

Song Qingshu was a lineal disciple of the Wudang Order and had studied every subtle variation in Yu Lianzhou’s fistwork and kicks. Yet he had never once fought at such speed. Yellow dust swirled up across the arena, forming a thick cloud that enveloped the two combatants.

Suddenly came a sharp crack as their palms collided. Yu Lianzhou and Song Qingshu leapt backwards at the same instant, and the two clouds of yellow dust drifted apart. Yu Lianzhou had not yet steadied himself before he darted forward again.

Yin Liting, anxious for his shixiong’s safety, could not help but walk to the edge of the arena. His hand rested on his jian-hilt and his eyes never left the fray. Song Qingshu’s life now hung by a thread. He was fighting with every ounce of strength, heedless of factional distinctions, employing nothing but the Wudang Order gongfu he had practised since boyhood. Every technique between the two men was familiar to Yin Liting, and he knew each move was a lethal killing-strike. His anguish far exceeded that of any onlooker. Fortunately, Yu Lianzhou was gaining the upper hand with every passing moment. Had he not been guarding against Song Qingshu’s desperate lunge—the five-finger piercing strike that had killed the Beggars’ Guild’s Fulong Elder—he would have had every opportunity to despatch the young man beneath his palms.

Zhang Wuji was likewise concerned. He held two Holy Fire Tablets¹⁰ concealed in his hand. If Yu Lianzhou were truly in danger of losing his life, then the rules of the tournament be damned—he would have to intervene.

But the dust cloud climbed ever higher, and suddenly Song Qingshu spread the five fingers of his left hand like a claw and lunged for Yu Lianzhou’s right shoulder. Yu Lianzhou had been waiting for this very move for a hundred exchanges. He had watched Song Qingshu claw the two Beggars’ Guild elders to death with his own eyes and had long since worked out the counter. Song Qingshu had not practised this clawing method for long. Its variations were few, and when the claw darted out again, it was much the same as the two previous strikes. Yu Lianzhou slipped his right shoulder aside at an angle and traced several circles in the air with his left hand.

Zhao Min and Fan Yao could not help but cry out together, “Ah!”—for the two circles Yu Lianzhou traced were precisely the Taiji Fist’s Ring-Entangling Formula that Zhang Wuji had just demonstrated. The moment Zhao Min and Fan Yao saw them, they knew Song Qingshu was done for. Indeed, the exclamation had barely left their lips before Song Qingshu’s right hand, five fingers spread, clawed at Yu Lianzhou’s throat. Zhang Wuji flew into a rage and cursed under his breath, “Deserves to die! Deserves to die!” It was this very strike that had killed the Beggars’ Guild’s Fulong Elder, and Song Qingshu was actually attempting it against his own shishu.

Yu Lianzhou’s arms swept round in a circle and a turn, unleashing the “Boring-Overturning” and “Spiralling” aspects of the Six Harmonies Force.¹¹ He had already encircled Song Qingshu’s arms. Two cracking sounds rang out as every bone and joint in Song Qingshu’s forearms shattered inch by inch. Yu Lianzhou roared, “Today I avenge Seventh Brother!” His arms converged in a single motion—“Twin Winds Piercing the Ears”¹²—and both fists struck his left and right temples. This move stored soft force within its impact, and Song Qingshu’s skull fractured on the instant. As Yu Lianzhou’s twin fists flew out, he thought of Mo Shenggu’s¹³ pitiful death and his fury rose to its peak. But then he thought of his Eldest Shige Song Yuanqiao—this matter ought to be for his Eldest Shige to deal with himself. As his fists struck, he breathed a silent sigh and held back five parts of his strength.

Before Song Qingshu’s body had even hit the ground, Yu Lianzhou was drawing back his foot to kick and shatter his leg-bones, when suddenly a green shadow flashed and a long whip lashed towards him from the front. Yu Lianzhou leapt back just in time. The whip came at him in a relentless flurry of strikes, faster than words can tell. It was Zhou Zhiruo, zhangmen of the Emei Order, coming to avenge her husband.

Yu Lianzhou retreated three paces at speed. Zhou Zhiruo’s whipwork was phantasmagoric. Within three moves she had already trapped him. The soft whip was nearly fifty feet long—there existed no other weapon in the world of such serpentine, dragon-like reach. Its tail was studded with sharp barbs and hooks, and when fully deployed its strikes could reach seventy or eighty feet. Suddenly Zhou Zhiruo gave a light flick of her soft whip, drew it back into her hand, and seized the tip with her left hand. Coldly she said, “If I take your life now, I know you will not accept it. Fetch a weapon!”

Yin Liting drew his jian with a ring of steel and stepped forward. “I shall face the Emei zhangmen’s high skill.”

Zhou Zhiruo gave him a cold stare, then turned to examine Song Qingshu’s injuries. His eyes bulged from their sockets, blood seeped from all seven orifices of his head, and he lay crumpled on the ground, plainly beyond saving. Three male disciples of the Emei Order rushed forward and carried him away.

Zhou Zhiruo turned back and pointed at Yu Lianzhou. “I shall kill you first. The surnamed Yin can wait his turn.”

Yu Lianzhou had just expended his utmost effort and yet could not break free from her whip-circle. He was greatly shaken. His love for his shidi was such that he thought, “If I fight her to the end, even if I die beneath her whip, at least Sixth Brother may discern the essentials of her whipwork. Having escaped death once, he will have all the better chance of survival.” He reached back to take the jian from Yin Liting’s hand. Yin Liting too had perceived the peril of their situation. With the combined martial arts of the two shixiong, escaping a single strike of her long whip seemed well-nigh impossible. He shared his shixiong’s resolve: he would rather be the first to face her onslaught so that his shixiong might study the crux of her whipwork. He refused to hand over the jian and said, “Shige,¹⁴ let me go first.”

Yu Lianzhou glanced at him. Decades of training together in the same shimen,¹⁵ a bond as close as that of hand and foot, surged into his heart. His thoughts flashed like lightning: Yu Daiyan maimed, Zhang Cuishan taking his own life, Mo Shenggu murdered so cruelly—of the Seven Xias of Wudang only four remained, and today it seemed two more would perish here. Sixth Brother’s gongfu was strong, yet his disposition was gentle to a fault. Were Yu Lianzhou to die first, Yin Liting’s spirit would be so shaken that he could scarce continue to fight. He reasoned, “If I die first, Sixth Brother will in no circumstances be able to avenge me; nor would he ever consent to flee and save himself. The two of us shixiong would surely perish together in this place, to no purpose. But if he dies first, and I discern the key to this woman’s whipwork, perhaps I can fight her to a mutual end.” He nodded and said, “Sixth Brother, hold out for as long as you can. Every moment counts.”

Footnotes

1. 太极拳 – Tàijí Quán. The Taiji Fist. Wudang Order’s foundational unarmed art, embodying yin-yang balance through circular, continuous motion. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 张三丰 – Zhāng Sānfēng. The Wudang Order’s founder and Zhang Wuji’s Grand Shifu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 武当七侠 – Wǔdāng Qī Xiá. The Seven Xias of Wudang: Song Yuanqiao, Yu Lianzhou, Yu Daiyan, Zhang Songxi, Zhang Cuishan, Yin Liting and Mo Shenggu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 师伯 – shībó. Senior lineage uncle. The shixiong of one’s shifu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 师叔 – shīshū. Junior lineage uncle. The shidi of one’s shifu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 武林 – wǔlín. Lit. martial forest. The community of martial artists and their factions. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 霹雳雷火弹 – Pīlì Léihuǒ Dàn. Lit. Thunderclap Firecracker Bomb. An explosive projectile. ↩

8. 功夫 – gōngfu. Martial skill attained through long cultivation. ↩

9. 掌门 – zhǎngmén. The head of a martial school or order. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 圣火令 – Shènghuǒ Lìng. The Holy Fire Tablets. Twelve precious metal tablets inscribed with the Ming Order’s most sacred martial arts, brought from Persia. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 六合劲 – Liùhé Jìn. Lit. Six Harmonies Force. An internal-power technique coordinating body and intent in six directions. ↩

12. 双风贯耳 – Shuāng Fēng Guàn Ěr. Lit. Twin Winds Piercing the Ears. A Shaolin fist technique where both fists arc inward to strike at the opponent’s temples simultaneously. ↩

13. 莫声谷 – Mò Shēnggǔ. The Seventh Xia of Wudang. Murdered by his own nephew Song Qingshu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

14. 师哥 – shīgē. The colloquial form of shixiong. Same meaning: male senior fellow disciple, both apprenticed to the same shifu. Shī means teacher. Gē means older brother (spoken register, as opposed to the literary 兄 xiōng). ↩

15. 师门 – shīmén. The house of one’s shifu: the master, the fellow disciples, and the rules and obligations binding them. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩