Twin Blades of the Storm Dragon Chapter 1 – Part 3

Zhang San’s¹ heart gave a sudden stir at these words.

Chen Boyu² continued, still smiling, “But I pay such talk no mind. As I see it, all swords are instruments of violence—where is the good fortune in that? My brothers urged me not to carry this blade, claiming it would bring harm to its master. I merely laughed. Of the two swords, I have always preferred this one. It suits my hand perfectly, and I have worn it for over a decade without a single misfortune befalling me.”

Zhang San laughed. “That’s nothing but idle superstition, is there really so much to it? I see no truth in it whatsoever. If you ask me, an ill-omened sword is all the better for warding off evil.”

Chen Boyu beamed and said, “Younger Brother, you speak true sense. At home, I keep this sword by my pillow when I sleep. In for over a decade, not so much as a thief has troubled my household. Younger Brother, when you return to Beijing, you might pass through Xincai County³ and stay at my home for a few days. I’ll show you the Wind-Singing White Dragon⁴ as well. My daughter is only thirteen, yet she already wields that sword with consummate skill. In a few more years, she’ll be able to match me blow for blow. I am forty-eight this year—half a century old in two years. I’ve wandered the jianghu⁵ for half my life without amassing much silver. My wife passed away long ago, leaving me with only our daughter. My daughter and these two swords—these are my three treasures.⁶ So long as they remain with me, I shall be content.”

He gave a soft sigh. “We shall rest here tonight and set off early tomorrow. My daughter must be growing anxious waiting for me.”

Zhang San stood with his back to the lamp, his eyes fixed and unblinking. For a long while, he said nothing.

Before long, footsteps sounded outside the window, and a young man entered. Upon seeing Chen Boyu, he bowed deeply and called out, “Shishu!”⁷

Chen Boyu nodded and turned to make introductions. “This is my shizhi, Xu Fei.⁸ And this is a friend I made on the road—the renowned armed escort captain⁹ from Beijing, Zhang San the Precious Blade.”

At the mention of his old epithet, Zhang San winced inwardly with shame. Xu Fei cupped his fists¹⁰ toward Zhang San and said, “I have long admired your name.”

Zhang San returned the gesture. “I’ll leave you two to your conversation and retire to my room.”

Chen Boyu stopped him. “My shizhi is not an outsider, and there’s nothing between us that cannot be said in your presence. Stay. I’ll have the innkeeper prepare wine, and we three shall drink our fill tonight.”

Zhang San waved his hand. “I’ll forgo the wine tonight. I shall eat and then sleep I must. It’s quite not fatigue, but… a troubled heart.”

Chen Boyu said, “Come now, brother, you worry too much. What happened today was nothing. Banish it from your mind. After I snapped Lu Yinsong’s staff, he surely knows he was facing Chen Boyu. He would never dare trouble a friend of mine. Besides, it’s not as if the enmity between you and him cannot be resolved, right?”

Zhang San continued to wave him off. “Truly, I cannot. My head is spinning!”

Chen Boyu smiled and let him off.

Zhang San returned to his room, where the innkeeper had already lit the lamp for him. Yet his mind was in turmoil, and he threw himself upon the bed at once. From the adjacent room he could hear Chen Boyu speaking to his shizhi, “He’s an honest fellow, just somewhat rough around the edges.”

Zhang San was about to peer through the gap in the boards when the inn servant entered and asked what he wished to eat. Zhang San replied impatiently. “Whatever! Whatever! Anything will do!”

The servant withdrew. Zhang San sat upon the bed, deep in thought, his face dark as iron. Before long the servant returned with his meal. He ate while still brooding. His thoughts churned and churned until suddenly he clenched his teeth, rose to his feet, and abandoned his half-finished meal. He called for the servant to clear the dishes away.

From the adjoining room came the sound of Chen Boyu and his shizhi still in cheerful conversation. Zhang San took up his coins, extinguished the lamp with a soft puff, and slipped quietly out into the night.

The rain was still falling, seemingly heavier than during the day. Zhang San trudged through the muddy street. Most shops had already shuttered their doors. He searched for a long time before the ring of hammer upon iron reached his ears from within one establishment. The double doors stood ajar, lamplight flickering from within like the gleam of a precious blade. Zhang San pushed through the door and entered.

Two blacksmiths were working through the night, sickle, hoes, and cooking pots hanging upon the walls around them. Zhang San arranged his features into a smile and asked, “Have you any finished blades?”¹¹

The blacksmith paused his hammer and looked up saying, “What for?”

“For slaughtering pigs.”

“No knives for pigs, but I’ve one for oxen—a bit longer,” the blacksmith said

“That will serve. I’ve a pig at home that needs slaughtering for a feast tomorrow, but my own blade has grown too dull.”

The blacksmith produced the ox cleaver for his inspection. Zhang San saw it was over a foot in length, with a hooked tip, and rather keen-edged. When told the price was but two strings of cash,¹² he paid without haggling. Departing the smithy, he concealed the blade within his clothes and returned to the inn.

Chen Boyu was still deep in conversation with his shizhi Xu Fei. Zhang San lay down gently in the bed gently upon returning to his room, and tucked the knife beneath his blanket. His heart pounded with tension and impatience, wishing Xu Fei would leave soon and Chen Boyu would retire early to sleep. Yet he also hoped Chen Boyu would drink more wine.

He waited a long while. The third watch¹³ was struck upon the street, yet the lamp next door still burned, and Xu Fei had not departed, though their conversation had grown sparse. Near the fourth watch,¹⁴ the door in the neighbouring room finally closed, the lamp was extinguished, and snoring soon followed.

Zhang San realised Xu Fei was staying the night with his shishu, and vexation surged within him. He rose quickly, secured his own door with care, then lay back down with the ox cleaver clutched in his hand.

After long deliberation, his resolve suddenly faltered. He thought, This cannot be done! Chen Boyu severed my precious blade. He deliberately slowed his pace upon the road. And when Lu Yinsong¹⁵ caught up with me, he made a show of his skill with that sword. Yet he is a new friend, and his reputation far exceeds mine. That he would address me as a brother surely shows he holds me in some regard. I should not take his life merely to seize that sword.

Besides, he reasoned, he is no fool. He may well be on his guard even in sleep. If I fail to kill him and he kills me instead, that would be a wretched fate indeed. And even should I succeed in slaying him, his shizhi and daughter would never forgive me. Sooner or later they would come seeking vengeance. My livelihood in the armed escort line would be finished!

Not worth it! I must abandon this notion!

With that, his mind grew clear once more. He felt considerable regret for the wicked thoughts he had entertained, and breathed out a long sigh. He pushed the dao to the side of his pillow and began drifting toward sleep.

Just then, a heavy thud sounded from the neighbouring room. Zhang San’s eyes snapped open. He strained to listen, and heard Chen Boyu chuckling.

“Have you picked it up?” Chen Boyu asked after he had a good laugh.

“I have,” replied Xu Fei. “Shall I set it upon the table? Shishu, do you always keep the sword at your side even when you sleep?”

“For five or six years now. I do the same even at home.” Chen Boyu’s voice grew wistful. “Ever since your shishen[^shishen] passed away, this sword has been my constant companion. Day or night, it never leaves my side.”

He sighed as he spoke. Then they resumed their conversation.

Only then did Zhang San understand what he had heard. The legendary sword had fallen on the floor. He knew it now rested upon the table, and that table was separated from his own bed by nothing more than a thin wooden partition. Covetous thoughts stirred within him once more. He considered using his ox cleaver to gouge a hole through the boards and steal the sword through it, then slip away on horseback under cover of darkness.

But the occupants in the next room were no longer sleeping. They continued talking without pause. Zhang San’s nerves were wound too tight and sleep escaped him as well.

Before long, the windows grew pale with dawn. Though day had broken, the rain had not ceased.

Zhang San threw on his clothes and stepped out to inspect the weather. A fine drizzle continued to fall, though lighter than the day before. The other guests still slumbered in their chambers, but Chen Boyu’s door stood open. Zhang San hurried back inside and concealed the ox cleaver beneath his cotton quilt, rolling it into a tight bundle and securing it with cord.

After a while, Chen Boyu entered wearing a short padded jacket and asked, “Younger Brother, do you wish to set out today? The rain has not yet ceased. If you are in no great haste to return home, you might rest here another day. My shizhi will bring you a dao this afternoon, so depart on the morrow. You need not concern yourself with the inn charges, I have already had them added to my tab. I must hurry back, however. Last night I had a dream, and in it I saw my daughter. She must be dreaming of me back home even now.”

Zhang San said, “Let us travel together, Elder Brother. I too am eager to return home. The dao is of no import now. What have I to fear when I travel with you? Even should we encounter tigers in the mountains, I need not flee. We shall part ways at Xiping County. I have friends there from whom I can borrow a dao to carry on the way home.”

Chen Boyu smiled and said, “Very well, very well! Make ready, Younger Brother, and we shall be off. We can take our morning meal at Maju Town.”¹⁶

With that, he turned and left. Zhang San remained standing where he was, lost in thought for a time. A short while later, the innkeeper had both horses saddled and waiting. Zhang San stepped outside and secured his bedroll behind his saddle. Chen Boyu emerged with his sword in hand, and the inn servants led both mounts to the gate. Xu Fei came outside to bid a warm and respectful farewell to his shishu and Zhang San. Chen Boyu mounted and took the lead, while Zhang San followed on his yellow horse, his eyes fixed upon the legendary sword at Chen Boyu’s saddle.

Footnotes

1. 张三 – Zhāng Sān. His name meaning “Zhang Three” or “Third”. A common way to refer to someone’s by their surname followed by their position in the family or household. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 陈伯煜 – Chén Bóyù. His name meaning “Elder Radiance” or “Brilliant Elder.” See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 新蔡 – Xīncài. County in southeast of Henan Province, bordering Anhui to the northeast and east. See Wikipedia. ↩

4. 白龙吟风 – Báilóng yín fēng. Literally white dragon singing in wind. ↩

5. 江湖 – jiānghú. Literally rivers and lakes. The world of martial arts. A sub-society involving all who are related to the martial arts scene. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 三宝 – sānbǎo. Literally three treasures. A Buddhist term referring to the Buddha, the Dharma (teachings), and the Sangha (monastic community). Here used metaphorically for Chen Boyu’s three most precious possessions. ↩

7. 师叔 – shīshū. Martial uncle. Younger martial sibling of one’s shifu. Shī means teacher. Shū means father’s younger brother. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 徐飞 – Xǔ Fēi. His name meaning “Xu Flying”. ↩

9. 镖头 – Biāotóu. Literally head escort. Team leaders and middle management within armed escorts commanding teams. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 拱手 – gǒngshǒu. Cupping one’s fists. A traditional Chinese gesture of respect made by placing the right fist in the left palm and raising both hands in front of the chest. ↩

11. 刀 – dāo. Single-edged blade, one of the fundamental weapons in Chinese martial arts. Often confused with sabre. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 吊钱 – diào qián. Literally strings of money. Common currency denomination made up of coins threaded together worth one thousand copper coins. ↩

13. 三更 – sāngēng. The third of the five night watches, approximately 11pm to 1am. Night watchmen would strike a gong or wooden clapper to mark each watch. ↩

14. 四更 – sìgēng. The fourth watch, approximately 1am to 3am. ↩

15. 鲁荫松 – Lǔ Yìnsōng. His name meaning “Sheltering Pine”. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

16. 马驹镇 – Mǎjū zhèn. Literally Colt Town. Small market town south of Xuzhou. ↩