The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre – Chapter 39 – Part 2

Zhang Wuji was beside himself with anxiety. This was the moment of vengeance his sworn uncle had dreamed of all his life, and he could not step in to help. Yet if the exchange went on for another dozen fists, Xie Xun would surely vomit blood and die.

Kongzhi spoke suddenly, his voice cold. “Yuanzhen, my shixiong taught you the Shaolin Nine Yang Skill¹ back then. Did he teach it so you could use it to harm others?”

Cheng Kun sneered. “My revered shifu met his end beneath the Seven Injury Fist.² Today I avenge my shifu and wipe away the shame.”

Zhao Min cried out without warning, “The Divine Monk Kongjian’s³ cultivation of the Nine Yang Skill far surpassed yours. Why could he not withstand the Seven Injury Fist? Great Master Kongjian died at the hands of a treacherous villain like you. You tricked him into stepping forward to settle the grudge. You tricked him into taking blows without striking back. Heh. Look, who is standing behind you? His face covered in blood, his angry eyes fixed on your back. Is that not the Divine Monk Kongjian?”

Cheng Kun knew perfectly well it was a trick. Yet after the deed he had done, his conscience stirred, and he could not help but shudder. At that moment Xie Xun launched another punch. Cheng Kun raised his palm to block, but his body swayed and, instead of retreating, he stumbled. Divided in mind, his zhenqi⁴ ran askew, and the fist caught him full in the chest, sending his qi and blood churning. He at once deployed his qinggong⁵, circling Xie Xun in swift, gliding steps, and only after a time did his breathing steady.

Zhao Min called out, “Divine Monk Kongjian, keep staring at him. Yes, just like that, breathe some cold wind on the back of his neck. You died at the hands of your own disciple, and he too will die at the hands of his. One reckoning repays another. Heaven has eyes, and its justice does not miss.” Her cries put such fear in Cheng Kun that suspicion bred phantoms within him. He fancied he could feel gusts of cold wind striking the nape of his neck, and in his fluster failed to consider that the mountaintop was swept by wind year-round, and that the two of them leaping and lunging through their fight would naturally raise a draught at his back.

Seeing him falter, Zhao Min called again, “Aiyo, Cheng Kun! Turn around and look behind you. You dare not turn, dare you? Look at the shadows on the ground: two men are fighting, so why are there three shadows?”

Cheng Kun could not resist glancing down. Sure enough, among the two figures a third, dark shadow had appeared. His heart lurched, and Xie Xun’s fist was already upon him. There was no time to deflect it. He met the blow fist for fist. A dull crack rang out as both men poured their full force into the exchange. Each swayed, and each stepped back one pace. Only then did Cheng Kun see clearly: the shadow was nothing more than the broken half of a pine tree, cast askew by the sun.

Cheng Kun had fought long without victory, and impatience had long since taken hold of him. He is my disciple, he thought. His eyes are blind besides, and still I cannot overcome him. My followers are watching, and they will not respect a master who fails. That day my Phantom Yin Finger⁶ was broken by Zhang Wuji’s pure yang neili,⁷ that wretched little thief, otherwise, why would I be tangled with him so long? The situation is perilous. I must subdue this traitor as swiftly as I can, so that I can hold the Ming Order to ransom and stir up those who bear him grudges. At the very least I can break free and save myself.

His resolve made, he shifted his footing and glided silently two steps back towards the broken pine.

Xie Xun threw three punches in succession and surged forward two paces. Cheng Kun retreated two paces in turn, hoping to trip him on the broken trunk. Xie Xun was pressing the attack when Zhang Wuji cried out, “Sworn uncle, watch your feet!” Xie Xun started and stepped aside. In that instant of hesitation Cheng Kun found his opening. His left palm shot forth without the slightest sound and struck Xie Xun square on the chest. The palm-force burst inward, and Xie Xun toppled backwards.

Cheng Kun lifted his foot to stamp down on Xie Xun’s skull. Xie Xun rolled aside and sprang up again, blood trickling ceaselessly from the corners of his mouth. Cheng Kun stood still, his right palm extending slowly forward. Xie Xun had been matching him by recognising the techniques and reading his movements through sound, but now Cheng Kun’s palm broke all convention, creeping towards Xie Xun’s face before snapping down onto his shoulder. Xie Xun staggered and braced himself by sheer force.

Many among the onlookers cried out in outrage, “A sighted man beating a blind one, such despicable tactics!”

Cheng Kun ignored them. Again he extended his palm in a slow, deliberate strike. Xie Xun concentrated, listening hard. The moment he sensed the palm approaching, he raised his arm to deflect it.

Zhang Wuji watched his sworn uncle’s yellow hair flying wild, his mouth smeared with blood. Anger and anguish seized him. He knew that if this went on, Xie Xun would die beneath Cheng Kun’s hands. Yet if he intervened now and killed Cheng Kun, his sworn uncle would regret it for the rest of his days. He clutched Zhao Min’s hand and said urgently, “Think of some plan, quickly!”

Zhao Min said, “Could you strike the old thief’s eyes with a hidden weapon?”

Zhang Wuji shook his head. “My sworn uncle would never forgive me for such a thing.”

Cheng Kun’s palm crept forth again in its slow, measured strike. Zhao Min called out, “The chest!” Xie Xun’s right fist drove straight down to his own chest, and Cheng Kun, his palm not yet spent, drew it back. Several more slow strikes he launched, and each time Zhao Min called out the target, forcing him to withdraw. Seeing the tactic had ceased to work, he turned it to his own advantage. His palm drifted slowly towards Xie Xun’s right shoulder.

Zhao Min called, “Right shoulder!”

Cheng Kun’s left shoulder stirred. Zhang Wuji understood at once and bellowed, “The back!”

Xie Xun, hearing Zhao Min’s cry, swung his right arm to block the palm aimed at his shoulder. But Cheng Kun’s earlier strike had been a feint all along, designed to draw Xie Xun’s arm aside with Zhao Min’s shout. His left palm slipped through the gap and struck Xie Xun’s back with a sharp crack, landing heavy. Though Zhang Wuji’s warning came in time, Cheng Kun’s blow was too swift. By the time Xie Xun heard the cry, it was already too late to change.

Amid a chorus of cries from the onlookers, Xie Xun spat a great mouthful of blood that splashed across Cheng Kun’s entire face. Cheng Kun gave a shout and raised his hand to wipe his eyes. Xie Xun collapsed to the ground. Then two screams rang out at once, and in an instant both men had vanished from sight.

Xie Xun, upon falling, had immediately seized Cheng Kun’s legs and dragged with all his might. Both men tumbled into the dungeon.⁸ The water inside stood waist-deep. The opening above was narrow, admitting only a sliver of light, and the interior was pitch-black. Cheng Kun, his face drenched in blood and his eyes blinded by it, was reduced to the condition of a blind man. He leapt backwards, desperate to put distance between himself and his foe, but the dungeon was cramped. His back slammed hard against the stone wall. He tried to spring upward, but a Seven Injury Fist caught him in the stomach, and searing pain lanced through him. He knew the blow had done grave damage. If he kept leaping, he would only take more fists. At once he switched tactics, deploying the Small Grappling Hand⁹ to defend.

The Small Grappling Hand was designed for close-quarters combat in darkness. It prized reflex beyond speed: though the eyes could not see, the moment any part of the fingers, palm, arm, or elbow touched the enemy’s body, the practitioner seized, struck, tore, stabbed, hooked, and rammed. Xie Xun roared and answered with the same art. Those above heard nothing but shouts and cries echoing from the dungeon, the rapid crack of fist and palm against flesh, fast as popping beans. Great sheets of muddy water splashed upward, telling them both men were attacking at full speed.

Zhang Wuji’s heart hammered. If his sworn uncle were in mortal peril now, he could not even leap down to save him. The situation forbade it. Cold sweat drenched his back.

Xie Xun had been blind for over twenty years. His art of reading sound and shaping form had long been drilled to perfection. He had long been accustomed to using his ears in place of his eyes. Cheng Kun, by contrast, had only just had his vision obscured by blood. Everything he saw was a blur, and he could do no more than flail blindly. The balance of the fight reversed at once. Fear gripped Cheng Kun’s heart. He could find no good strategy and could only drive both arms like a whirlwind, redoubling the vicious techniques of the Small Grappling Hand. I will take another palm-stroke if I must, he thought. But I have to get up there and fight.

The onlookers edged closer to the dungeon, their palms slick with sweat. From below, Cheng Kun’s and Xie Xun’s battle-cries rang up unceasing, neither man yet victorious. Then, without warning, Cheng Kun shrieked in agony. Two figures leapt from the dungeon one after the other.

In the daylight they saw Cheng Kun and Xie Xun facing one another, both men’s eyes streaming blood, neither moving.

In the heat of combat, Xie Xun’s palms had surged forward in a double strike aimed at Cheng Kun’s flanks. Cheng Kun, overjoyed, cried, “Got him!” His right hand’s index and middle fingers darted towards Xie Xun’s eyes. The move called Double Dragon Seizes the Pearl¹⁰ was ordinary enough in itself, but nested inside the Small Grappling Hand it carried deadly force: the opponent would instinctively turn his head to dodge, and then the left hand would sweep across and strike the temple’s vital acupoint.¹¹ But Xie Xun neither dodged nor blocked. Instead he too cried, “Got him!” and thrust his own index and middle fingers at Cheng Kun’s eyes with the very same move.

Cheng Kun’s two fingers pierced Xie Xun’s eyeballs. In his mind a thought flashed like lightning: Disaster! Then his own eyes blazed with pain. Xie Xun’s fingers had found them too. The technique Xie Xun had used was the very one Cheng Kun himself had taught him, and the wounds they suffered were identical. But Xie Xun’s eyes had been blind already. Though the flesh was torn, it did not further impair what little sight remained. Cheng Kun, however, had been made blind.

Cheng Kun fled from the dungeon. Xie Xun pursued at once.

Xie Xun laughed coldly. “How does it feel, being blind?” His fist lashed out. Cheng Kun, unable to see, could not dodge. A Seven Injury Fist struck him full in the chest. Xie Xun followed with a left-hand blow. Cheng Kun stumbled back several paces and collapsed upon the broken pine, blood pouring from his mouth. Two full strikes of the Seven Injury Fist had shattered his meridians.

Du’e’s voice spoke, “Cause and effect, retribution. How fitting, how fitting.”

Xie Xun froze. The third punch he had drawn back halted midway, its force held. He said, “I owed you thirteen fists of the Seven Injury Fist, to avenge the Divine Monk Kongjian. But your martial arts are destroyed, your eyes are blind. You are a cripple now, and can do no more evil in this world. The remaining eleven fists need not be struck.”

Zhang Wuji and the others, seeing him victorious, raised a great cheer. Then Xie Xun sat down abruptly on the ground. A terrible crackling ran through his body, every bone and joint popping in sequence. Zhang Wuji was alarmed. He recognised the signs: his sworn uncle was reversing his neili, preparing to scatter his own martial arts entirely. “Sworn uncle, you mustn’t!” he cried, and dashed forward, reaching for Xie Xun’s back to suppress the backlash with the Nine Yang Divine Skill.¹²

Xie Xun leapt up and struck himself a savage blow to the chest. His arms went limp. Zhang Wuji caught him, but felt his strength already drained to nothing. His neili was spent beyond recovery.

Xie Xun pointed at Cheng Kun. “Cheng Kun, you murdered my entire family. Today I have taken your eyes and destroyed your martial arts, and so repaid you. Shifu, every skill I possessed, you taught me. Today I have destroyed them all, every one, and returned them to you. From this day forward, there is no debt between us and no gratitude owed. You will never see me, and I will never see you.”

Footnotes

1. 少林九阳功 – Shàolín Jiǔyáng Gōng. Literally Shaolin Nine Yang Skill. An internal cultivation art of the Shaolin Order, a branch derivation of the Nine Yang Manual’s teachings. Kongjian, Kongzhi, and Kongxing all learned it. ↩

2. 七伤拳 – Qīshāng Quán. The Seven Injury Fist. A devastating fist technique of the Kongtong School that channels seven different types of force in a single strike, each damaging a different internal organ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 空见 – Kōngjiàn. One of the Four Divine Monks of Shaolin. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 真气 – zhēnqì. Refined qi cultivated through neigong. The body’s true vital energy, distinct from ordinary breath. ↩

5. 轻功 – qīnggōng. Lightness skill. The martial art of moving with extraordinary agility and reduced weight. ↩

6. 幻阴指 – Huànyīn Zhǐ. Literally phantom yin finger. A deadly finger technique that channels cold yin energy through the meridians. ↩

7. 内力 – nèilì. Internal force. The kinetic manifestation of qi, cultivated through neigong and the foundation of all martial prowess. ↩

8. 地牢 – dìláo. The dungeon beneath Bright Peak, a natural limestone cavern used as a prison by the Ming Order. ↩

9. 小擒拿手 – Xiǎo Qínná Shǒu. The Small Grappling Hand. A close-quarters combat art designed for fighting in darkness, relying on tactile reflex rather than sight. ↩

10. 双龙抢珠 – Shuāng Lóng Qiǎng Zhū. Literally “double dragon seizes the pearl.” A technique in which both hands’ index and middle fingers thrust simultaneously at the opponent’s eyes. ↩

11. 穴 – xué. Acupoints. Vital points along the meridians where a precise strike can disable or kill. ↩

12. 九阳神功 – Jiǔyáng Shéngōng. The Nine Yang Divine Skill. A legendary internal cultivation method emphasising pure yang energy, derived from the Nine Yang Manual. ↩