The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre Chapter 7 Part 3

Chapter 7: Who sends the ice vessel to the immortal land? (3)

Having eaten nothing but raw food for so long, both were desperate for fire. They set to work at once, and over two full days they plaited a rope of bark more than a hundred zhang in length. After a day of drying in the sun, they set out toward the volcano on the fourth morning. The crater looked deceptively close, but in truth the walk stretched over forty li. With every step the heat intensified. First they shed their sealskin furs. Before long, even their thin undergarments felt unbearable. After another li, their mouths were parched and their bodies drenched in sweat. Not a single tree or blade of grass survived here—nothing but bare, scorched rock, yellow and blistered under the heat.

Zhang Cuishan bore the coiled rope across his shoulders. He glanced at Yin Susu and saw that the tips of her hair had begun to curl from the heat. Pity stirred in his heart. “Wait here for me,” he said. “Let me go on alone.” Yin Susu gave him a sharp look. “If you say such things again, I shall refuse to speak to you. At worst we go without fire and eat raw meat for the rest of our lives—is that really so terrible?” Zhang Cuishan smiled faintly.

After another li, they were both gasping like cattle. Zhang Cuishan’s neigong¹ was deep and refined, yet even he found his vision swimming with golden sparks and his skull buzzing like a hive. “Very well,” he said. “We shall throw the rope from here. If we fail to catch the fire, then… then…” Yin Susu laughed. “Then heaven means for us to be a pair of savages, tearing raw flesh with our teeth and drinking blood…” Even as she spoke, her body swayed and she nearly fainted. She clutched at Zhang Cuishan’s shoulder to steady herself. Zhang Cuishan snatched a stone from the ground, lashed it to one end of the rope, gathered his breath, sprinted forward several zhang, and with a shout of “Go!” hurled it with all his might.

The stone flew like an arrow, pulling the rope taut behind it, and fell far in the distance. Yet though the ground several dozen zhang ahead was far hotter than where they stood, it was still a great distance from the crater’s mouth, and there was no certainty the heat would ignite the rope’s end. They waited a long while, the air so fierce it felt as though their eyes might burst into flame, but not so much as a wisp of smoke rose from the rope. Zhang Cuishan sighed. “The ancients could kindle fire by drilling wood or striking stone. We shall go back and try those methods instead. This rope-throwing scheme is no use at all.”

Yin Susu said, “The scheme may have failed, but the rope has been baked bone-dry. Let us find some flint and try striking sparks with the sword.” Zhang Cuishan agreed. He hauled the rope back, untied the stone, and teased the end into fine threads. The slopes around the volcano were strewn with flint. He picked up a piece, struck the flat of the sword against it, and a shower of sparks leapt forth, landing upon the fibres. After a dozen attempts, the threads caught and a tiny flame bloomed to life. They whooped and threw their arms around each other. The baked rope made a ready-made torch. Each carrying a blazing brand, they strode back to the bear cave in high spirits. Yin Susu heaped brushwood and kindling, and a proper fire crackled to life.

With fire, everything changed. Ice could be melted into water, and meat could be roasted over the flames. From the day their ship had been destroyed, neither had tasted a single hot meal. Now, when they bit into the first mouthful of bear meat—rich, fragrant, the fat sizzling—they very nearly swallowed their own tongues along with it.

That evening, the scent of flowers drifted through the bear cave and firelight danced upon the stone walls. Since the day they had pledged themselves to one another, this was the first night that truly felt like a bridal chamber warmed by spring.

The next morning, Zhang Cuishan stepped from the cave and lifted his gaze to the distant horizon, his heart at peace. Then, all at once, he caught sight of a tall figure standing upon the rocks at the water’s edge.

It was none other than Xie Xun.

The shock that struck Zhang Cuishan was like nothing he had felt before. He had dared to hope that after all they had endured, he and Yin Susu might live out their days in quiet upon this island. Yet here, once again, was the demon. For a long moment he stood frozen, not daring to move. He watched as Xie Xun staggered inland, his steps unsteady, his body swaying. Blinded, he had been unable to catch fish or hunt seals, and had starved to this wretched state. After a few dozen paces, his legs buckled and he pitched forward, falling face-first upon the ground and lying perfectly still.

Zhang Cuishan ducked back into the cave. Yin Susu called softly, “Fifth Brother… you…” She saw the gravity in his face and swallowed whatever she had meant to say. Zhang Cuishan whispered, “The one surnamed Xie—he is here too.” Yin Susu started with fright and asked in a hushed voice, “Did he see you?” Then she remembered that Xie Xun was blind, and her alarm eased somewhat. “The two of us have our eyes,” she said. “Surely we can manage one blind man?” Zhang Cuishan nodded. “He has fainted from hunger.” Yin Susu said, “Let us go and see.” She tore four strips from her sleeves, stuffed two into Zhang Cuishan’s ears and two into her own, took her sword in her right hand and palmed several silver needles in her left. Together they ventured out.

They approached to within seven or eight zhang. Zhang Cuishan could see how pitiful Xie Xun looked, wasted by starvation, and could not harden his heart. He called out, “Senior Xie, would you care for something to eat?” Xie Xun flinched at the sound of a human voice, and for an instant his face shone with surprise and relief. But he recognised Zhang Cuishan’s voice, and a shadow fell across his features. After a long pause, he gave a slow nod. Zhang Cuishan went back to the cave and fetched a large piece of the roast bear meat left over from the previous evening. “Catch,” he said, and tossed it from a safe distance. Xie Xun propped himself up, listened to the sound of the approaching object, and snatched it from the air. He raised it to his mouth and chewed slowly.

Zhang Cuishan watched this man—once a living tiger, vital and terrible—reduced to such weakness by hunger, and he could not help the wave of compassion that rose within him. Yin Susu’s thoughts ran along a very different path: Fifth Brother is far too soft-hearted. If we let him starve to death, that would be the end of it. By saving him now, we invite endless trouble. Like as not, both our lives will end at his hands. Yet she had sworn a solemn oath to follow Zhang Cuishan’s righteous path, and though the thought of leaving Xie Xun to his fate crossed her mind, she held her tongue.

Xie Xun ate half the bear meat and fell asleep where he lay. Zhang Cuishan built a fire beside him.

He slept for more than a double-hour before waking. “Where is this place?” he asked. Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu had been keeping watch beside him. When he sat up and spoke, each removed the cloth from the right ear so as to hear him, though both kept their right hands no more than a few inches away, ready to plug the ear at the first sign of danger. The cloth in their left ears they did not touch. Zhang Cuishan said, “A deserted island in the far north, where no one has ever lived.” Xie Xun grunted. In that moment, a tide of thoughts crashed through his mind. He sat in a daze for a long while, then said, “So we can never go back.” Zhang Cuishan said, “That rests with heaven’s will.” Xie Xun burst out in a string of curses. “Heaven’s will! Dog heaven! Thief heaven! Bandit heaven!” He groped his way to a boulder and sat down, gnawing at the bear meat once more. “What do you mean to do with me?” he demanded.

Zhang Cuishan glanced at Yin Susu, waiting for her to speak. She gestured for him to decide.

Zhang Cuishan considered for a moment, then said clearly, “Senior Xie, my wife and I—” Xie Xun nodded. “Hm. Married, are you.” Yin Susu’s cheeks flushed, but there was a note of pride in her voice as she said, “You were the matchmaker, after all. We owe you our thanks.” Xie Xun snorted. “You and your wife—what of it?” Zhang Cuishan said, “We blinded you, and for that our remorse runs deep. Yet what is done cannot be undone, and ten thousand words of apology would change nothing. Since heaven has willed that we share this island—perhaps for the rest of our lives, never to return to the Central Plains—my wife and I shall provide for you and care for you until the end of your days.”

Xie Xun nodded and sighed. “I suppose there is nothing else to be done.” Zhang Cuishan said, “My wife and I are bound heart and soul. We share one fate. Should your madness seize you again, Senior, and either of us perish at your hand, the other will not live on alone.” Xie Xun said, “You mean to tell me that if you two die, I—blind as I am—could not survive on this island by myself.” Zhang Cuishan said, “Precisely.” Xie Xun said, “If that is how it stands, why bother keeping cloth stuffed in your left ears?”

Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu exchanged a look and laughed, pulling the strips from their left ears as well. Yet inwardly they were shaken: Though his eyes are gone, his hearing has grown so keen that he can very nearly see with his ears. And his mind is as sharp as ever. Were it not for the strangeness of this island at the edge of the world, he might not need our care at all.

Zhang Cuishan invited Xie Xun to name the island. Xie Xun said, “This place holds ice ten thousand years old and a pit of fire that has burned since the world began. Let it be called Ice Fire Island.”²

From that day forth, the three of them settled on Ice Fire Island, and a measure of peace prevailed among them. Half a li from the bear cave stood a smaller cavern, which Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu furnished as a dwelling for Xie Xun. When the couple were not hunting or fishing, they fired clay into bowls, heaped earth into an oven, and fashioned the various necessities of daily life one by one, each crude but serviceable.

Xie Xun, for his part, never troubled them. He simply sat with the Dragon Slaying Saber³ cradled in his hands, head bowed, lost in thought. From time to time the couple took pity on him and urged him to abandon his obsession with the saber’s secret. Xie Xun said, “Do you think I do not know that even if I unlocked its secret, it would serve no purpose on this desolate island? But if I have nothing to occupy my mind, how am I to endure the days?” They could find no fault with that logic and pressed him no further.

Several months slipped by. One day, husband and wife wandered hand in hand toward the north of the island. The place proved far vaster than they had imagined; it stretched northward without apparent end. After twenty-odd li, they came upon a dense forest of ancient trees, their canopy so thick and dark it blotted out the sky. Zhang Cuishan made to enter and explore, but Yin Susu hung back. “What if something strange lurks in there? Let us go home.” Zhang Cuishan found this odd. Susu has always been the bold one. Why has she become so timid of late, so listless about everything? A thought struck him and his heart leapt. “Are you unwell?” he asked. “Is something the matter?” Yin Susu’s face turned suddenly crimson. She murmured, “It is nothing.” Zhang Cuishan saw the peculiar look on her face and pressed her again and again. At last Yin Susu said, with an expression that was half-smile, half-secret, “Heaven thinks us too lonely. It is sending another person to liven things up.” Zhang Cuishan stared at her, then comprehension burst upon him like the sun. “You are with child!” he cried. Yin Susu shushed him at once. “Keep your voice down—someone might hear.” No sooner had the words left her lips than she burst out laughing. The forest stood silent around them. There was no one else for a hundred li.

The seasons turned. The days grew shorter and the nights stretched longer, until at last daylight endured for scarcely more than two double-hours, and the cold became savage. After the onset of her pregnancy, Yin Susu tired easily, yet she insisted on attending to every task of cooking and mending herself.

One evening, with her tenth month of pregnancy nearly full, the fire burned high in the bear cave and the couple sat close together, talking idly. Yin Susu said, “Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?” Zhang Cuishan said, “A girl who takes after you, a boy who takes after me—either would be wonderful.” Yin Susu said, “No. I want a boy. Choose a name for him now.”

Zhang Cuishan said, “Hm.” A long silence followed, but he did not speak. Yin Susu said, “Something has been weighing on you these past few days. You have seemed distracted.” Zhang Cuishan said, “It is nothing. I suppose the thought of becoming a father has left me giddy.” His words were light, but a shadow of worry lingered between his brows. Yin Susu said gently, “Fifth Brother, hiding things from me only makes me worry more. What have you noticed?”

Zhang Cuishan sighed. “I hope it is only my imagination. But Xie Xun’s manner these past few days has been… wrong.” Yin Susu drew a sharp breath. “I have seen it too. His face grows more savage by the day. He looks as though the madness is coming upon him again.” Zhang Cuishan nodded. “I think the saber’s secret has defeated him, and the frustration is eating him alive.” Tears welled in Yin Susu’s eyes. “Before, we could have fought him to the death and thought nothing of it. But now… but now…”

Zhang Cuishan drew her close, one arm around her shoulders. “You are right. With the child coming, we cannot risk our lives against him. If he proves peaceable, well and good. But if he turns violent, we shall have no choice but to kill him. He is blind, after all—he cannot be a match for both of us.”

Since conceiving, Yin Susu had undergone a quiet transformation. In her maiden days she could slaughter dozens without a qualm, but now she shrank from killing even a wild animal. Once, Zhang Cuishan had caught a doe, and when a fawn followed it all the way to the cave, Yin Susu had insisted he release the mother, choosing to subsist on wild berries for two days rather than see them parted. Now, hearing Zhang Cuishan speak of killing Xie Xun, she could not suppress a shiver.

She was nestled against his chest, and that faint tremor passed straight through to him. He looked down at her and smiled, warm and reassuring. “Let us hope he does not lose his mind. But while one must never harbour ill intent toward others, one must never be without guard against them.” Yin Susu said, “You are right. If he truly does go mad, how shall we restrain him? Perhaps we could tamper with his food—find some poison…” She caught herself. “No, no. He may not go mad at all. Perhaps we are worrying over nothing.”

Zhang Cuishan said, “I have a plan. Starting tomorrow, we shall move into the inner chamber of the cave. In the outer chamber, we dig a deep pit and cover it with hides and soft earth.” Yin Susu said, “The pit is a good idea, but you must go out to hunt every day. What if he attacks you in the open?” Zhang Cuishan said, “Alone, I can escape easily enough. The moment I see anything amiss, I shall make for the steepest cliff I can find. Blind as he is, he could never follow me up.”

Footnotes

1. 内功 – nèigōng. Literally internal skill. The practice of cultivating internal energy through breathing, meditation, and specific exercises. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 冰火岛 – Bīnghuǒ Dǎo. Literally ice fire island. The volcanic island near the Arctic where Zhang Cuishan, Yin Susu, and Xie Xun are stranded. ↩

3. 屠龙刀 – Túlóng Dāo. The Dragon-Slaying Sabre; literally dragon-slaying dao. A legendary blade and the supreme weapon of the jianghu. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩