The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre Chapter 8 Part 2

Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu listened as the tale grew ever more astonishing. Though they had both seen much of the jianghu’s treacherous currents and shifting clouds, and had heard of every manner of strange affair, what Xie Xun now recounted was utterly beyond their reckoning. Both felt a quiet certainty forming within them: Xie Xun was himself a figure of extraordinary stature, yet his shifu, the Unified Innate Thunderhand Chengkun, appeared to surpass him in both cunning and martial prowess. Yin Susu said, “Elder Brother, those two Kongtong Elders—were they truly wounded by your shifu in secret?”

Xie Xun said, “That was exactly what I blurted out. Master Kongjian replied, ‘The injuries the two Kongtong Elders sustained—did you see them with your own eyes, Layman Xie? What did their complexions look like?’ I fell silent. After a long pause, I said, ‘If what you say is true, then those two Elders were indeed wounded by my shifu.’ For at the time, I had seen the two Elders lying upon the ground, their faces covered in crimson blotches. It was plain that they had used sinister force¹ against someone, only to have a master of the Unified Innate Skill² drive their own neili back upon them. To my knowledge, apart from my shifu and myself, no third person in the world had ever cultivated the Unified Innate Skill. The only other explanation for such crimson blotching would be a sudden onset of some virulent fever, but when I had first encountered the Five Elders, all five had been in perfect health—sudden illness was out of the question.

“Master Kongjian nodded and sighed. ‘Your shifu was drunk and lost all restraint, and so he harmed your family. When the wine wore off, he was stricken with such shame and remorse that he could find no refuge from it. That is why, when you sought him out twice for vengeance, he spared your life both times. He would not even wound you, but you threw yourself at him both times in a frenzy of madness, and without wounding you, he had no way to break free. Since then, he has followed in your shadow, and three times when you faced mortal peril, it was he who secretly delivered you from danger.’ I turned this over in my mind, and indeed, beyond the clash with the Kongtong Five Elders, there had been two other desperate encounters where, at the very brink of catastrophe, my opponents’ assault had suddenly slackened. The fight against the masters of the Qinghai School³ had been the most perilous of all. Master Kongjian went on, ‘He knows his offence is too grave to ask your forgiveness. He only hoped that with time, you would gradually let the matter fade. But instead, your rampages have only grown, and the dead have only multiplied. If today you go and murder Song Yuanqiao, the disaster that follows will be beyond all mending.’

“I said, ‘If that is so, then I ask you, Master, to summon my shifu before me. Let us settle our own accounts. It has nothing to do with anyone else.’ Master Kongjian said, ‘Your shifu cannot bear to face you. And besides, Layman Xie—I do not say this to belittle you—even if you found him, it would avail you nothing.’ I said, ‘You are a monk of the highest virtue, Master. Right and wrong must be clear to you. Can it be that the blood debt of my entire household is simply to be forgiven?’ He said, ‘What befell you was a tragedy that grieves even me. But your shifu lost himself to drink; it was never his true intent. He has repented deeply. I would ask you, Layman Xie, for the sake of the bond you once shared as shifu and disciple, to show mercy.’ My fury blazed beyond all restraint. I said, ‘If I cannot beat him, let him strike me dead and have done with it. If this blood debt goes unavenged, I have no wish to go on living.’

“Master Kongjian deliberated for a long while, then said, ‘Layman Xie, your shifu’s martial arts are no longer what they were. Even with the Seven Injuries Fist, you cannot harm him. If you doubt me, then strike me a few times and see for yourself.’ I said, ‘I bear no grudge against you, Master. I would not dare cause you harm. My martial arts may be meagre, but the Seven Injuries Fist is not easily withstood.’ He said, ‘Layman Xie, let us make a wager. Your shifu slew thirteen members of your family. You shall strike me thirteen times. If you wound me, I shall wash my hands of this affair, and your shifu will come forth to face you of his own accord. If you cannot, then this feud ends here. What say you?’ I hesitated, knowing that this eminent monk’s martial arts were unfathomably deep. The Seven Injuries Fist was formidable, to be sure, but if it truly could not wound him, was I to abandon my vengeance?

“Master Kongjian added, ‘I will speak plainly. Having intervened in this matter, I will not stand by and allow you to continue slaughtering innocent men and women of the wulin. If you turn your heart toward the good and cease this bloodshed, all that has passed shall be wiped clean. But if you insist on pursuing vengeance, consider this: do the disciples and kinsmen of those you have killed not also wish to avenge their dead?’ His tone had grown stern. The madness surged within me and I roared, ‘Very well! I shall strike you thirteen times! When you can endure no more, call a halt at any time. A true man’s word is as steadfast as a mountain—but you must bring my shifu forth to face me.’ Master Kongjian smiled faintly. ‘Strike at will.’ I looked upon him—slight of frame, white-browed and white-bearded, his countenance both gentle and solemn—and I could not bring myself to wound him straightaway. The first punch I threw with only three-tenths of my strength, and it struck him square in the chest.”

Wuji cried, “Godfather! Was that the same Seven Injuries Fist that shattered the tree’s vessels?”

Xie Xun said, “No. That first punch was the Thunderbolt Fist⁴ that my shifu Chengkun himself had taught me. The blow landed and his body swayed; he retreated a step. I thought: I used only three-tenths of my strength, and already he retreats a step. If I unleash the Seven Injuries Fist at full force, three punches—no more—would be enough to end his life. My second punch I threw with slightly greater force. Again he swayed and stepped back. The third I struck with seven-tenths of my strength, and still the same: a sway, a step. I began to find it strange. I had more than doubled the force of my blows, yet the effect upon his body was identical. Given his frail, gaunt frame, a single punch should have been enough to shatter his ribs. And yet his body generated no rebounding force whatsoever; he simply absorbed all three blows as though they were nothing. I realised that to fell him, I would have to strike with everything I had—but if I did, he would either die or be gravely hurt. Though I had walked the path of evil for many years, I could not help but stand in reverent awe of his selfless compassion. I said, ‘Master, you receive my blows without striking back. I have not the heart to continue. You have taken three of my punches; in return, I give my word that I shall not go after Song Yuanqiao.’ He said, ‘And what of your feud with Chengkun?’ I said, ‘That is a debt sealed in blood. It ends only when one of us is dead.’ I paused, then added, ‘But since you have intervened, Master, I respect you. From this day forth, I shall seek only Chengkun himself and his kin. I will no longer bring harm upon innocent men and women of the wulin.’

“Master Kongjian pressed his palms together. ‘Excellent. Excellent. That you harbour such a thought, Layman Xie—allow me to offer thanks on behalf of all the wulin.’ He continued, ‘But I have set my heart on resolving this enmity in full. The remaining ten punches—please, deliver them.’ I calculated silently. Only by wounding him with the Seven Injuries Fist would my shifu consent to show himself. The Seven Injuries Fist could be unleashed and withdrawn at will; I would measure my force with precision. And so I said, ‘Then I must give offence.’ The fourth punch followed, and this time I used the force of the Seven Injuries Fist. It struck his chest, and his sternum gave a shallow dip inward—then he stepped forward.”

Wuji said, “How strange! This time the old monk did not retreat. He stepped forward instead.”

Zhang Cuishan said, “That must have been Shaolin’s Vajra Indestructible Body.⁵”

Xie Xun nodded. “Fifth Brother’s knowledge is broad indeed. You are quite right. This punch was entirely different from the first three. His body generated a rebounding force that churned through my chest and belly as though my five organs had all been turned inside out at once. I knew he had been left no choice—had he not employed this divine skill, he could not have withstood my Seven Injuries Fist. I had long heard that Shaolin’s Vajra Indestructible Body was reckoned among the five supreme divine skills of all time, and now, tasting it upon my own flesh, I found its reputation well deserved. My fifth punch I weighted toward yin, toward suppleness. Again he stepped forward, and the dark, supple force rebounded upon me. I barely managed to disperse it.” He paused.

Wuji said, “Godfather, the old monk promised not to fight back! How could he rebound your fist force upon you?”

Xie Xun stroked the boy’s hair. “After my fifth punch, Master Kongjian said, ‘Layman Xie, I had not anticipated that the Seven Injuries Fist would be so terrifyingly powerful. If I do not rebound the force through my neigong, I cannot withstand it.’ I said, ‘You have not struck back with your own hand. I am deeply grateful for your forbearance.’ Thereupon my fists flew like the wind, and the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth punches were delivered in a single rush. Master Kongjian was truly formidable. All four blows struck home, and he rebounded each one—hard and soft distinctly separated, every layer orderly and precise.

“I was staggered. I cried, ‘Guard yourself!’ and the tenth punch floated out, light as a feather. He gave a slight nod, and before my force had even reached his body, he stepped forward twice, seizing the initiative in that split second.”

Wuji naturally could not understand what was so remarkable about taking two steps forward. Zhang Cuishan, however, knew well that when masters contended, to anticipate an opponent’s move before it was launched was an extraordinarily difficult feat. Ordinarily, reading a single move ahead was sufficient to secure victory. He nodded. “Remarkable. Truly remarkable.”

Xie Xun went on. “This tenth punch I had thrown with all my strength. By seizing the initiative with his rebound, he sent me stumbling back two paces. I could not see my own face, but I imagine I must have been white as a sheet, utterly drained of colour. Master Kongjian exhaled slowly and said, ‘There is no rush to throw the eleventh. Steady yourself before you strike.’ Proud as I was, my neili was in upheaval, and for the moment, the eleventh punch simply would not come.”

Zhang Cuishan and the others, listening to this point, were all deeply anxious. Wuji suddenly said, “Godfather, you still had three punches to go. You should have stopped right there.” Xie Xun said, “Why?” Wuji said, “This old monk was a good man. If you wounded him, you would feel terrible about it. And if you hurt yourself instead, that would be no good either.” Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu exchanged a glance, thinking that for a child of such tender years to possess this kind of discernment was no small thing. Zhang Cuishan felt an even deeper swell of gratification, sensing that his son was kind-hearted by nature and could tell right from wrong.

Xie Xun heaved a sigh. “I had lived for decades, yet in that moment my judgement fell short of a child’s. My mind was consumed with vengeance; without finding my shifu, I would never rest. I knew that if we continued, one of us would surely be killed or crippled, yet I could not bring myself to care. I gathered all my strength and hurled the eleventh punch. This time, his body shot suddenly upward. My punch had been aimed at his chest, but when he raised himself, the force struck his lower belly instead. His brows creased, and pain was plain upon his face. I understood his intent: had he taken the blow upon his chest, the rebounding force would have been too great—he feared I could not endure it. But by absorbing it through his lower belly, where the rebound was weaker, the suffering he bore himself was far, far worse.

“I stood dumbfounded. I said, ‘My shifu’s crimes are beyond redemption—he deserves death ten thousand times over. Why should you, Master, sacrifice your own precious self to shield him from retribution?’ Master Kongjian steadied his breathing and gave a pained smile. ‘I can only hope… that after two more punches… this calamity will be resolved.’ I heard how his voice came in broken gasps. A thought flashed through my mind: It seems he cannot speak whilst employing the Vajra Indestructible Body. If I draw him into speech and then strike without warning, I can catch him before his divine skill takes hold. And so I said, ‘If I do wound you within these thirteen punches, can you guarantee that my shifu will truly come to face me?’ He said, ‘He gave me his word that—’ Before he could finish the sentence, my fist was already driving toward his lower belly. The blow came fast, and I aimed low, meaning to strike before his protective divine skill could engage. But the divine skills of the Buddhist tradition rise with the mind’s intent.⁶ The instant my fist force touched his belly, his divine skill was already suffusing his entire body. I felt the heavens spin and the earth lurch beneath me, felt my heart and lungs near to bursting. I staggered backward seven or eight paces, and my back slammed against a great tree. Only then did I keep my feet.

“In my despair, a vicious notion seized me. I said, ‘Enough! This vengeance cannot be had. What reason has Xie Xun to go on living between heaven and earth?’ I raised my hand and brought my palm crashing down upon my own crown.”⁷

Yin Susu cried, “A brilliant stratagem!”

Zhang Cuishan said, “Why?” But almost at once he grasped it. “Ah—but to use such a device against a monk of such virtue is rather too ruthless.” For he, too, had realised that if Xie Xun struck his own crown, Kongjian would inevitably cry out to stop him and rush to intervene—and Xie Xun, catching him unawares, could then strike. Zhang Cuishan’s wits were no less keen than his wife’s; he simply never entertained such treacherous designs, and so his mind arrived at the answer a beat behind hers.

Footnotes

1. 阴劲 – yīnjìn. Literally yin force. A sinister, dark form of martial force, as opposed to the orthodox yang-aligned forms. ↩

2. 混元功 – húnyuán gōng. Literally unified innate skill. An internal cultivation method practised by Chengkun and transmitted to Xie Xun, characterised by the ability to merge and redirect opposing forces. ↩

3. 青海派 – Qīnghǎi Pài. The Qinghai School, a martial arts faction based in the Qinghai region of western China. ↩

4. 霹雳拳 – pīlì quán. Literally thunderbolt fist. The signature fist technique taught by Chengkun to his disciples, carrying explosive concussive force. ↩

5. 金刚不坏体神功 – Jīngāng Bùhuài Tǐ Shéngōng. Literally vajra indestructible body divine skill. One of the five supreme divine skills of the ancient martial world, exclusive to Shaolin. The technique renders the practitioner’s body impervious to external force by generating a rebounding counterforce through neigong cultivation. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. Translator’s note: In Buddhist martial arts theory, the highest neigong techniques are activated by mental intent (心念 – xīnniàn) rather than deliberate physical preparation, making them virtually instantaneous. ↩

7. 天灵盖 – tiānlínggài. The crown of the skull, corresponding to the fontanelle. A lethal acupoint in martial arts; a sufficiently powerful strike to this spot results in instant death. ↩