The Ming Storm

by Yan LeiSheng

Chapter 10

  A cool night breeze, perfumed with the spiced scent of lotus blossoms, rose from the lake and revived Shao Jun.

  Against all odds, she felt for the young lord on seeing his frustration at being unable to correctly execute his baton technique, having herself had a similar experience with Master Yangming. Despite the murderous gleam that had been in his eyes since the beginning of the fight, she had greater and greater difficulty believing that he could be affiliated with the Eight Tigers. His only objective really did seem to be to become a better fighter.

  To encourage him and avoid increasing his embarrassment, she gripped her cane in both hands, raised it in front of her face and bowed.

  “Lord, I am honored to have witnessed such a demonstration of your art.”

  She had never heard of these Three Revelations. There were thousands of baton techniques, but they were all based on the same six movements – lowering, raising, pushing, thrusting, rotating and covering – and knowing these alone was enough to counter all their variants. The young lord admired Shao Jun’s calm serenity. “She is extraordinary. Now I understand why she causes Zhang Yong so much trouble,” he thought.

  He’d had the audacity to not even consider defeat, but how could he possibly have overcome the person who had triumphed over Wei Bin? From their very first exchange he had quickly understood that stubbornly refusing to use his left arm condemned him to failure. However, he had persisted rather than lose face. Perhaps the Three Revelations passed down to him by his master would allow him to regain the upper hand. He gripped the bottom third of his baton so that most of its length was behind him, took a deep breath and called to the pipa player.

  “Play us Man Jian Hong written by General Yue Fei.”

  She began to play, plucking the strings which resonated with a jade-like purity to produce a soft yet powerful melody, gradually increasing in intensity. It was as elegant as the previous melodies but had an undeniably warlike rhythm. Shao Jun had never seen anyone hold a baton the way her opponent did, but the wizened old man sat to the side recognized the pose. “Oh dear…” he lamented internally. While the air was still warm from the heat of the day, an icy blast of air seemed to envelope the two combatants.

  The “three revelations” which gave the technique its name were law, steadfastness, and wisdom, according to Buddhist texts, linked in a virtuous circle: the second results from the first, the third from the second, and the first from the third. Applying these in the field of martial arts required unshakeable foundations and impeccable purity of spirit, a far cry from this young man who had begun his Buddhist training so late – at the age of sixteen – and whose skill had yet to mature. Nonetheless, faced with the failure of his usual techniques, he felt he no longer had any choice if he wanted to win the duel. He risked injuring himself or Shao Jun if he made any mistakes, but his obstinacy made him blind to the dangers. Nothing could stop him once he had begun.

  He began to weave like a dragon of legend, swimming through the air within the confined space of the stage. The two fighters had already circled seven or eight times within five bars of the pipa’s song, at such a speed that they were reduced to blurred silhouettes for the onlookers. As the tension reached its height, the young lord let out a shout then leapt four or five feet into the air to perform a somersault as he twirled his baton, striking Shao Jun with the full force of his momentum.

  This strike, known as the Ship of samadhi, took its name from a Sanskrit allegory in which the manifestation of the Buddha is compared to the appearance of a sail on the horizon. It was part of the Three revelations of the baton, which are a meditation tool; even in their martial form, logically, these techniques required the complete inner peace and detachment from passion specific to spiritual fulfillment. Noticing that the lord was far from being in this state of mind, the old man grew furious and almost got up to prevent him from making a mistake which he would regret. The attack would certainly hurt Shao Jun if it succeeded, but it was just as likely to turn against its user if used incorrectly. However, the insufficiently prepared young man was unable to wield his baton at the same time as he jumped, seeming almost to flounder, driven by his frenzy and the rhythm of the pipa.

  Bam! The ash baton crashed down onto the bamboo cane, sending it flying into the air. The pipa stopped, the two silhouettes remained frozen in place, then plop! as the cane fell into the lake. “Phew! The master was the more skilled of the two!” the old man thought, finally relieved of his anxiety.

  “I admit defeat,” the lord declared disappointedly.

  When he had performed the Ship of samadhi, he had lost control of his ash baton. Shao Jun had quickly realized that the attack would not hit and had thus immediately sent her cane towards her opponent’s face. But she had slowed her strike as much as possible to avoid putting out his eye, which had allowed the young man to protect himself at the last second. He was aware however that he owed his safety to the merciful restraint of the one who should truly be recognized as the winner of the duel.

  She was nonetheless pleasantly surprised by the grace with which he conceded his defeat.

  “Will the young lord answer my questions now?” she asked.

  The current had carried the bamboo cane toward the Greenfinch, so he bent down and caught it with his baton.

  “Of course,” he replied as he wiped it. “I would never break my word!”

  He returned the two weapons to the rack and turned towards the pipa player.

  “I’m sorry, Jouyi, I’ve made a fool of myself before you this evening.”

  The latter delicately hid her mouth behind her hand before she spoke, as all well-bred girls did.

  “Lord, it’s my fault, my interpretation of the Man Jian Hong was not very good.”

  “So, play it for me again another time,” he gently offered before turned to the old man. “Mr Mu, please accompany Jouyi to the house so she can rest. I will join you very soon.”

  “But… Master… isn’t it risky?”

  “Mr Mu, you need not worry, this young lady is worthy of General Yang.”

  According to legend, under the Jin dynasty General Yang Hu – opposing General Lu Kang in a war against the Wu kingdom – had personally brought medicine to his adversary after learning he had fallen ill. Many had feared that it was a ruse, but it was not: General Yang was a man of who wanted to vanquish his rival – the two strategists were on an equal level – with honor. Ever since, his name had become synonymous with uprightness and respectability. Old Mu did not know the details of the story, but he was familiar with the expression, so bowed respectfully to Shao Jun before leaving the platform and leaving, followed by the four large guards with their pathetic broken batons. When they had all left the stone boat, the young lord parted the curtain of beads that separated a small room from the rest of the terrace.

  “The crew of the Greenfinch is pleased to welcome you aboard this evening!” he smiled.

  His joviality amused the young woman. The defeated duelist had forgotten his discomfort and now shone at the opportunity to display his charm. When Shao Jun entered the small area covered by an arbor, her host was lighting candles. The room, which could accommodate several dozen people, was more spacious than it appeared from the outside. It was probably suffocating during the day, but its proximity to the lake made it a very pleasant place at night. It was tastefully decorated with wooden Jiangsu seats surrounding a carved table encrusted with polished ivory, with a lovely blue-green celadon teapot sitting on the surface alongside a copper tureen on which pearled drops of icy water. Shao Jun had seen this type of thing at the palace. They usually contained crushed ice that had been stored in a cave since winter – a luxury that only the wealthiest houses could afford – on which were placed fruits and drinks that benefited from being served cool.

  “If the young imperial favorite would oblige…” said the young lord, pointing at a seat.

  She
suspected he knew her identity, but the mention of her former rank nonetheless caused her to jump.

  He drew a bottle from the tureen and filled two porcelain cups.

  “When you lived in the palace, you must have drunk this type of grape alcohol, isn’t that right?” he asked, handing one to his guest before emptying his in a single gulp.

  Yes, of course she had drunk wine, but this golden-yellow liquid was nothing like those she had ever tasted or even seen.

  “Lord, please tell me at last… Who do I have the honor of speaking to?”

  “Wang Yangming didn’t mention me when he gave you the jade pendant?”

  Those words struck her like an avalanche. Momentarily forgetting that she was disarmed, Shao Jun instinctively reached to her waist to unsheathe her sword. The lord let out a small laugh and pulled out a long cardboard box from a niche behind him.

  “Please, open it,” he said.

  It contained the young woman’s sword and rope dart, as well as the jade pendant, which immediately relieved the worry that had weighed on her since Chen Xijian had taken it from her. The stone and its cord had even been cleaned of the blood that had soaked them. Now she could be sure that this unknown person was not ill-intentioned.

  “Excuse my impoliteness,” Shao Jun persisted, “but what is your name?”

  He poured a new cup of wine and said in a firm voice, “The humble lord before you is named Xu Pengju.”

  The young woman noted that he must therefore be a relative of General Yue Fei13, which explained why he had such devotion to the man. But this name contained no useful information on its own…

  13 Pengju was the courtesy name of Yue Fei.

  “Pleased to meet you, Lord Xu,” she responded.

  He appeared to be disappointed. He had clearly expected to be recognized.

  “My name means nothing to you?” he asked, pouring a new cup of wine to cover his embarrassment.

  What kind of person, especially at that age, could expect that everyone would know his name? An unlikely idea suddenly entered Shao Jun’s mind.

  “Are you… the prince of Wei?” she guessed.

  “Miss,” responded her host with a satisfied smile, “you have before you the commander in chief of the troops of the prefecture of Nanjing, imperial guardian of the principality of Wei.”

  “So, you’re a descendent of the king of Zhongshan… Which explains your high level of kung-fu.”

  The history of this seven-generation noble title was rich and complex. It began with General Xu Da, king of Zhongshan and the first prince of Wei, whose two sons had been officers in the service of Jianwen, the second Ming emperor, and whose daughter had married the prince of Yan. When the latter, who would later be known to the world as Ming Yongle, had entered the war of succession which would see him become emperor in 1402, the fates of the two brothers were rather different… The younger, Xu Zengshou, had caused the defeat at the battle of Nanjing by failing to prevent the leak of key information – and had been beheaded for this mistake – while his elder brother, Xu Huizu, had always remained loyal to Jianwen even after his fall.

  He thus refused to submit to the victorious Yongle, but rather than kill his brother-in-law – whose father was a close friend of Hongwu, the founder of the Ming dynasty – Yongle chose to strip him of his titles and pass them on to the son of Xu Zengshou. He could not however remove his status as the prince of Wei, which resulted in the division of the Xu family into two noble branches, that of Beijing and that of Nanjing, from which Pengju descended. He had himself become prince of Wei ten years earlier, during the thirteenth year of Zhengde’s reign. This title, in which he took great pride, and which drove him to study martial arts, made him the official supreme guardian of the peace in Nanjing. Nonetheless, there were many in the nobility and administration who secretly saw him as nothing more than a meritless upstart who liked to see himself as a hero. Shao Jun’s compliment on the quality of his kung-fu delighted him. He felt the beginnings of a certain bond between them.

  “Miss, you flatter me.” He emptied his cup. “You must be eager to know what happened to the old eunuch… Do not fear, he now enjoys the supreme happiness of the other world, where he will be forever silent!”

  How could such a young and well-raised young nobleman speak with the coolness of a professional assassin?

  “Lord Pengju, why are you helping me?”

  “If I am not mistaken, Wang Yangming entrusted you with his pendant with the recommendation that in the event of great difficulty, you find the master of the Temple of the Jade of the Five Virtues.”

  So, he did know everything! And he couldn’t have got these details from Chen Xijian, because Shao Jun hadn’t told him the name of the place where she had planned to take him, nor had she mentioned her master.

  “It is a little-known fact,” explained the young man, “but the Temple of the Jade of the Five Virtues was founded by my family. Moreover, please forgive me for striking you… I had no idea who I was attacking until the old eunuch said too much!”

  Everything was suddenly clearer. This was exactly where Master Yangming had sent her! Historically, the prince of Wei was the guardian of Nanjing, the commander of the city troops, and thus the most influential man in the region. Zhang Yong would never dream of finding the former imperial favorite in his home.

  “I thank you again for taking me into your protection,” she said respectfully. “But may I ask what connects you to Master Yangming?”

  “Wang Yangming is a close friend of my instructor. Both of these mutton fat jade pendants were made from a single piece of flawless jade which was accidentally shattered when it was brought back from a campaign against the invading Mongols. The great sculptor Gu Sunian carved three identical pendants from its remnants at the request of my master, who kept one and gave the other two to his closest friends. Each bears a different inscription, which is why I immediately knew that yours, on which is written the word Education, belonged to Wang Yangming. My master’s is engraved with the word Nature, and the third with the word Dao. The old eunuch was clearly ignorant of the details of this story, or had no idea that I was connected to it, because he bragged with such audacity as he showed off the item he stole from you, even promising to denounce the protector you came to find… The first time he told me of these pendants, my master told me to treat anyone who presented me with one as I would treat him. Ha ha!”

  The three ideas represented by these jade pendants originated directly from the opening of the Zhongyong: “What Heaven confers is called ‘nature’. Accordance with this nature is called the Dao. Cultivating the Dao is called ‘education’.”14 Xu Pengju said that while these three pendants symbolized the friendship that united the three men, the fact that they were engraved with different characters also represented their divergence as well as the nebulous nature of philosophy. They had conceived the idea after spending an entire night debating their respective interpretations of these basic notions without agreeing on the subject. “Now I better understand why Master Yangming was so sure that I would be safe here,” Shao Jun thought to herself. She thanked her host once again, who burst out laughing.

  14 The Zhongyong or Doctrine of the Mean is one of the four classics of Chinese philosophy.

  “If Heaven falls on our heads, my home will still be left standing. Please, rest here until your wounds are completely healed. And when you’re better, I will seek your teaching in martial arts again.”

  “Lord Pengju, what is your instructor’s name?”

  “Yang Yiqing. Did Master Yangming tell you about him?”

  “Oh… It’s Master Yang!”

  The first time Shao Jun heard of this person, Emperor Zhengde had just received a note from him exhorting him to be less idle and dedicate himself more seriously to governing the empire, which had made him furious. “Silence this insolent!” he had shouted, throwing t
he missive across the room. But after he had calmed down, he had picked it up before murmuring, “The barbarians would have invaded us long ago without this man.” Yang Yiqing’s outspoken and inflexible nature had put him at odds with his superiors on several occasions, and his animosity towards Liu Jin, founder of the Eight Tigers, was notable, but none could contest his value and skills as a military strategist, as recognized as those of Master Yangming in the area of negotiation. His attributes were numerous and had continued to grow over his career, but he was especially known for directing the armies at the borders, a key task for maintaining the empire’s stability. Shao Jun had always heard Wang Yangming, eighteen years his junior, mention his name with the respect and deference due to elders, but she didn’t know they were so close.

  “I also had some lessons from Master Yangming,” Pengju added, “which makes us sort of co-disciples! You have absolutely nothing to fear from me.”

  The young woman drank a mouthful of wine. Every day since her rushed departure from the palace, she had felt like she was constantly running for her life, staying one step ahead of one threat or another. How long had it been since she had been able to relax like this evening? Years, perhaps.

  “Yes, and I’m so grateful to you…” she whispered.

  She was unused to drinking alcohol, and the wine, sweet and fragrant, sent a pleasant wave of heat through her body. After sheathing her sword and attaching her rope dart to her belt, she leaned back.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Pengju. I will rest, for now.”

  “I will return as well, it grows late. Please stay at the house, as I fear they will be looking for you in the city, and it would be imprudent for you to go there… I will accompany you myself when you are completely healed.”

  “They’re looking for me?”

  “Of course! Uncle Yu arrived in the city yesterday, convinced that you were responsible for the old eunuch’s disappearance, and told me to order the garrison to search Nanjing for you. To show my cooperation and goodwill, I increase the patrols and guards. Prudence is required, he has informers everywhere…”