Heavenly Sword Dragon Slaying Saber Book 4

by Jin Yong

  As the nun blew the whistle, more than twenty people rushed in immediately from all directions. Their blades flickered under the moonlight. Zhang Wuji ignored their presence. He stood still with his hands behind his back.

  The nun disappeared into a small hut. She reappeared a moment later and said, "Our humble Sect’s Zhang Men Ren says: Men and women are not supposed to mingle, especially this late at night. Zhang Jiaozhu, please return.”

  "I have a rather acceptable medical skill,” Zhang Wuji said, "I only wish to treat Song Qingshu Shaoxia’s [young hero] injury; nothing more.”

  The nun was startled. She went back into the hut to convey the message. After a long time, she returned and said, "Zhang Men Ren invites you to come in.”

  Zhang Wuji patted his waist to show that he did not carry any weapon before walking behind the nun to enter the hut. He saw Zhou Zhiruo sitting by a table on the side; her cheek rested on her palm. She was lost in thought so that she did not turn her head although she heard him. The nun poured a cup of green tea and set it on the table then she retreated and gently closed the door. There were no other people in the room. A flickering white candle on the table illuminated Zhou Zhiruo’s plain dark green attire. The overall scene was sad and gloomy.

  Zhang Wuji’s heart ached. In a low voice he said, "How is Song Shige’s condition? Let me take a look at him.”

  Without turning her head, Zhou Zhiruo coldly said, "His skull is smashed, his injury is very heavy. Most likely he won’t survive. I don’t even know if he would survive the night.”

  "You know my medical skill is not too bad,” Zhang Wuji said, "I will do my best to save him.”

  "Why do you want to save him?” Zhou Zhiruo asked.

  Zhang Wuji was startled. "I did you wrong,” he said, "In my heart, I am very ashamed. Moreover, you have showed me mercy today by letting me live. Song Shige is injured; I want to make it up to you somehow.”

  "You showed me mercy first, do you think I did not know it?” Zhou Zhiruo replied, "If you can bring Song Dage back to life, how do you want me to repay?”

  "A life for a life,” Zhang Wuji replied, "I am asking you to show mercy on my Yifu.”

  Pointing toward the inner chamber Zhou Zhiruo indifferently said, "He is inside.”

  Zhang Wuji walked toward the inside chamber. But as he saw the room was pitch-black without

  any light, he took the candlestick and went in. Zhou Zhiruo did not move; she was still sitting motionless with her cheek on her palm.

  Zhang Wuji raised the dark green mosquito net up. Under the candlelight, he saw that Song Qingshu’s eyes were bulging, his facial features [orig. ‘wu3guan1’ - five sensory organs: nose, eyes, lips, tongue, ears] were distorted, making his countenance hideous. His breathing was very weak and he had lost consciousness long ago. Zhang Wuji held his wrist only to find his pulse was chaotic; sometimes fast, sometimes slow. His skin felt ice-cold. If he was not treated immediately, indeed he would not survive the night. Zhang Wuji lightly touched his skull and felt that four pieces of Song Qingshu’s skull, the forehead and the back of his head, were disintegrated. Zhang Wuji thought about the fierceness of his Yu Er Bo’s [second (older) uncle] pair of fists. This ‘shuang feng guan er’ stance was backed by a hundred percent internal energy. If Song Qingshu did not have a very strong foundation in internal energy cultivation, he would have died on the spot.

  Zhang Wuji let down the mosquito net. He put down the candlestick on the table, sat on a bamboo chair by the table, and was deep in thought, thinking how he was going to treat the injury. Song Qingshu’s injury was fatal; even with all his might, Zhang Wuji’s confidence only reached 30%.

  It took him about the time to cook rice to consider all options carefully; and then he stood up and went out the room. "Mrs. Song,” he said, "Whether or not Song Shige’s life would be saved, I find it very difficult to assert. Would you let me give it a try?”

  "If you can’t save him, nobody else in this world can,” Zhou Zhiruo answered.

  Zhang Wuji said, "Even if his life is spared, I am afraid his face, his martial art will not return to his former days. His brain was also shaken badly. I am afraid ... I am afraid even speaking will not be easy for him.”

  "You are not a deity,” Zhou Zhiruo said, "I know you will do your utmost to bring him back to life, so that you can be the imperial court’s consort with a clear conscience.”

  Zhang Wuji was stumped; he thought it was inappropriate for him to respond, so he simply went back to the inner chamber and uncovered the quilt covering Song Qingshu’s body. After sealing Song Qingshu’s eight major acupoints, with an extreme care and very light pressure, which was neither here nor there, his ten fingers started to mend Song Qingshu’s broken skull, piece by piece. And then he took out a golden case from his bosom. With his little finger he picked a bead of blackish paste, which he then rubbed evenly with both hands on Song Qingshu’s broken skull.

  This black paste was the ‘hei yu duan xu gao’ [black jade bone mending ointment], which was the supreme panacea of broken bones, developed by the Shaolin Pai of the Western Region. It was what remained from the ointment he begged from Zhao Min to treat Yu Daiyan and Yin Liting’s broken limbs. He also sent out his Jiu Yang Zhen Qi in steady stream through his palm to help the medicine penetrate Song Qingshu’s broken bones.

  About the time needed to burn an incense stick later, Zhang Wuji had finished applying his energy. Seeing Song Qingshu’s face did not worsen, he was delighted; knowing that his chance of saving Song Qingshu’s life had been increased by several points.

  He had just recovered from a heavy injury so that after exerting that much energy, his heart was beating faster and his breath was labored. After standing next to the bed while regulating his ‘chi’ for half a day, he walked back to the outer chamber and put the candlestick back on the table.

  Under the flickering candlelight, he saw Zhou Zhiruo’s face was unusually pale. Hearing light

  footsteps outside the room, he knew that the Emei disciples were still patrolling around their camp. "I think Song Shige will live. Set your heart at ease,” he said.

  "You don’t have the confidence of saving his life, I also don’t have the confidence of saving Xie Daxia’s life,” Zhou Zhiruo said.

  "She is going to attack the Jin Gang Fu Mo Quan tomorrow,” Zhang Wuji thought, "Even if there is one or two masters within the Emei Pai to give her a hand, nine out of ten it would be difficult for her to succeed. Perhaps she might deliver her life instead.” Thereupon he said, "Do you know the situation of the place where they hold Yifu captive?”

  "I don’t,” Zhou Zhiruo replied, "What kind of fierce ambush Shaolin Pai is preparing?”

  And thus Zhang Wuji explained briefly how Xie Xun was held prisoner in a dungeon on top of a small hill, and that he was guarded by Shaolin’s three old monks; how he himself had failed to break the Jin Gang Fu Mo Quan twice, resulted in the death of Yin Tianzheng.

  Zhou Zhiruo was listening quietly until he was finished, and then she said, "That being the case, if you failed to break their defense, what hope do I have?”

  Suddenly Zhang Wuji got an idea. "Zhiruo,” he happily said, "If the two of us join hands, we can accomplish greater merits. With my pure ‘yang’ and ‘hard’ power, I can entangle the three eminent monks’ long whips. With your ‘yin’ and ‘soft’ power, you seize the opportunity to enter. Once you are inside the Jin Gang Fu Mo Quan defense line, with converging attack from outside and inside, we could score a victory.”

  With a cold laugh Zhou Zhiruo said, "We were once engaged to each other. Right now, my husband is hovering between life and death. On top of that, I did not take your life today. Other people would say that I still have a feeling toward you. If I took your advice by asking you to help me, the heroes of the world would scold me as one without any sense of honor, indecisive and capricious.”

  Zhang Wuji anxiously said, "We only need to have clear conscience. Why would we give any regard to whatever o
ther people might say?”

  "And if I do have a guilty conscience?” Zhou Zhiruo asked.

  Zhang Wuji was taken aback; he could only say, "You ... You ...”

  "Zhang Jiaozhu,” Zhou Zhiruo said, "You are a single man and I am a widow. With us being together this late of night, it’s hard for us to avoid public criticism. Please leave immediately!”

  Zhang Wuji stood up and bowed deeply. "Mrs. Song,” he said, "You have been very good to me since we were very young. I wish you would bestow kindness to me one more time. For the rest of his life, Zhang Wuji will not dare to forget your kindness.”

  Zhou Zhiruo met his request with silence; she neither agreed nor disagreed. All along, she did not even turn her head so that Zhang Wuji was unable to see her expression. While he was just about to repeat his request, in a loud voice Zhou Zhiruo called, "Jinghui Shijie [martial (older) sister], see the visitor out!”

  With a creaking noise, the outer door opened. Jinghui stood outside with a sword in her hand. She

  stared at Zhang Wuji with an angry look.

  Zhang Wuji thought that at this moment, his Yifu’s life was at stake; his own reputation was of no importance. Thereupon, he knelt down in front of Zhou Zhiruo and kowtowed four times. "Mrs. Song,” he said, "I am asking for your mercy.”

  Zhou Zhiruo sat motionless like a statue.

  "Zhang Wuji,” Jinghui shouted, "Zhang Men Ren [sect leader] told you to get out. Why are you still pestering her? You are indeed a scum of the Wulin community. There is no one this shameless!” She thought that Song Qingshu had died and thus Zhang Wuji was begging Zhou Zhiruo to marry him.

  Zhang Wuji sighed and jumped out the door.

  Before even reaching the Ming Cult camp, Zhao Min had already met him. "Song Qingshu’s life is saved, isn’t it?” she said, "And you have used my ‘hei yu duan xu gao’ to be a good man.”

  "Ah!” Zhang Wuji exclaimed, "You truly have a deity’s foresight. At this time, it’s still hard to say whether he will be alive or not.”

  Zhao Min heaved a deep sigh and said, "You wanted to save Song Qingshu’s life as an exchange for Xie Daxia. Wuji Gege, you are growing more and more muddleheaded; you do not have the least bit of understanding of other people’s hearts.”

  "Why?” Zhang Wuji wondered, "I don’t understand what you were saying.”

  "You saved Song Qingshu with all your strength, your blood, your sweat. That means you did not care about Zhou Jiejie’s feeling to you the least bit,” Zhao Min said, "Tell me, do you think she is or she isn’t angry?”

  Zhang Wuji was startled; he was at a loss for words. He thought it would defy any logic if Zhou Zhiruo did not want her husband to be healed. However, she did say, ‘I know you will do your utmost to bring him back to life, so that you can be the imperial court’s consort with a clear conscience’. Clearly, this sentence carried the idea that Zhou Zhiruo resented him. Moreover, she also said, ‘what if I do have a guilty conscience?’

  "You have saved Song Qingshu’s life, and now you regret it, don’t you?” Zhao Min asked. Without waiting for Zhang Wuji’s answer, she smiled slightly and then flew back into the shed.

  Zhang Wuji sat on a large rock. He raised his head to look at the cold crescent moon, and was lost in thought. His mind wandered back to the events that followed the first time he met Zhou Ziruo, especially her tone of speaking and her body language just now. He lowered his head, while myriads of indiscernible thoughts raced back and forth in his mind.

  Early morning on the sixth day of the fifth month, the bells inside the Shaolin Temple rang, calling the crowd of heroes to gather again in the field. This time, the old monk of the Damo Hall did not even ask for Kong Zhi’s permission. He stood in the middle of the field and said in a loud and clear voice, "All heroes, greetings! In the martial art competition yesterday, the Emei Pai Sect Leader, Mrs. Song’s skill was proven to surpass everybody else’s. We invite Mrs. Song to the back of the mountain to break the guard and get Jin Mao Shi Wang Xie Xun out. Lao Seng [old monk -referring to self] will show the way.” Finished speaking, he proceeded walking toward the back of the mountain.

  Emei Pai’s eight senior female disciples promptly followed him, with Zhou Zhiruo and the rest of Emei disciples close on their heels. The rest of the heroes followed after them. Zhang Wuji noticed that Zhou Zhiruo wore similar clothes to the ones she wore the previous day, not mourning clothes, so he knew Song Qingshu had not died yet.

  "Critical moment has passed,” Zhang Wuji thought, "He will live.”

  As the crowd of heroes went up to the peak of the hill, they saw that the three eminent monks were still sitting cross-legged under the pine trees.

  The old monk of the Damo Hall said, "Jin Mao Shi Wang is held captive in the underground dungeon in between the three green pine trees. Guarding the dungeon are our Sect’s three elders. Mrs. Song’s martial art skill is unrivalled under the heavens. She only needs to defeat our Sect’s three elders then she can open the dungeon and take the prisoner away. The rest of us will have the opportunity to admire Mrs. Song’s skill once again.”

  Seeing Zhang Wuji’s indeterminate expression, Yang Xiao said quietly by his ear, "Jiaozhu, don’t worry. Wei Fu Wang and Shuo Bude are leading the Five-Element Banners to surround the peak.

  If Emei Pai is unwilling to hand Xie Shi Wang over, we will have to use force.”

  Frowning, Zhang Wuji said, "That means we are breaking the general assembly’s rules and breaking good faith.”

  "I am only afraid Mrs. Song would place a sword on Xie Shi Wang’s neck,” Yang Xiao said, "And then many innocent bystanders would be hurt. Breaking good faith or not, we simply can’t deal with this crowd alone.”

  Zhao Min quietly said, "Xie Shi Wang’s enemies are numerous. We must guard against sneak attacks, someone launching secret projectile from among the crowd.”

  Yang Xiao said, "Fan You Shi, Priest Tie Guan, Zhou Xiong [brother Zhou] Peng Dashi [reverend Peng], four people are taking their positions on the four corners, guarding against sneak attacks.”

  In a low voice Zhao Min said, "It would be better if someone launched a secret projectile. We may seize the opportunity amidst the chaos to snatch Xie Shi Wang. The world heroes could not blame us for breaking good faith. However, if all is quiet ... something has to happen ... Hmm, Yang Zuo Shi, have someone in disguise secretly launch an attack toward Xie Shi Wang to stir up the water, and then in the midst of trouble we snatch him away.”

  Yang Xiao laughed. "This is a wonderful idea,” he said, and then immediately left to find someone to execute the plan.

  Zhang Wuji realized they were not being straightforward and upright; but in order to save his Yifu, they were left with no other choice but to act decisively. In his heart, he could not stop feeling grateful toward Zhao Min. He thought, "In the face of critical situation, Min Mei and Yang Zuo Shi both have the ability to act decisive. It is very seldom that they had to stop and discuss matters at length, and lose a good opportunity. I don’t have that ability.”

  In the meantime, he heard that Zhou Zhiruo was saying, "Since the three eminent monks are Shaolin Pai’s elders, your martial art skill must be very profound. If I fought you with one against three, not only it will be unfair, it will also be disrespectful of me.”

  The Damo Hall’s old monk said, "If Mrs. Song must have one or two people to help, you may do

  so.”

  Zhou Zhiruo said, "Because all the heroes under the heavens yielded to me, I was fortunate to win the competition. I was using our Sect’s special skill, secretly passed on by Xian Shi [late/departed master], Miejue Shitai. Supposing we fought three against three, even if we scored a victory, I would fail to display the instructions my Xian Shi painstakingly taught me. But if I fought one against three, I would show disrespect toward the host. Therefore, let us do this: I am going to call someone who was injured under my hands yesterday, whose injury has not completely recovered, a kid to lend me a hand. This kid was once struck by my Xian Shi thre
e times that he spurted blood. Let all the heroes under the heavens know. That way, my Xian Shi’s prestige will not be damaged.”

  As Zhang Wuji heard this, he was utterly delighted. "Thanks the Heaven and thanks the Earth! She indeed allows me to come forward.”

  "Zhang Wuji,” he heard Zhou Zhiruo call out, "Come out.”

  Aside from Yang Xiao and a few other people, the Ming Cult warriors did not know the background story; but all of them were angry to hear Zhou Zhiruo saying ‘this kid this’ and ‘this kid that’ in total disrespect of their Cult Leader. To their surprise, however, they saw that Zhang Wuji looked so happy. He stepped forward, bowed with cupped fists and said, "Many thanks Mrs. Song, for showing mercy and sparing this kid’s life yesterday.”

  Zhang Wuji had already decided in his heart, "She is humiliating me publicly not only to gain face to the Emei Pai, but also to retaliate for the disgrace that day, when the groom fled in the middle of the wedding ceremony. For Yifu’s sake, I must set aside everything else.”

  Zhou Zhiruo said, "You were heavily injured that you vomited some blood yesterday. I don’t really need any help today, but we must show some manners.”

  "Yes,” Zhang Wuji replied, "I will follow your orders, I will not dare to disobey.”

  Zhou Zhiruo took out her whip. As she shook her right hand, the whip immediately created more than a dozen big and small circles in the air. It was a very beautiful sight. Her left hand flipped over. A blue ray flashed. A short blade appeared in her hand. The crowd of heroes had seen the formidable power of her flexible whip yesterday; they did not expect that she was able to use a blade at the same time. One long, the other short, one flexible, the other stiff; these two weapons were exact opposite of each other. The crowd of heroes gasped in admiration; their spirits were aroused.

  Zhang Wuji fetched a couple of Sheng Huo Ling tablets from his pocket. He took two steps forward. Suddenly he staggered and deliberately let out several coughs, as if he had not fully recovered and was having difficulty even to protect himself, so that if they defeat the three Shaolin monks, the crowd of heroes would think that all credits belong to Zhou Zhiruo.