by Jin Yong
“Watch closely!” the Taoist shouted.
He jumped as if it was nothing special, made six or seven turns with the sword, before softly landing again on his feet. Guo Jing was awestruck.
The man threw the sword on the ground and said while laughing, “The white eagle was quite admirable, it is necessary to save its offspring!”
He sprang toward the cliff and began climbing at full speed using his feet and hands, as agile as a monkey and as light as a bird. The slope rose very steeply and was, in part, as straight as a wall. But the slightest bump was sufficient for him to climb up higher. Even when the rock appeared smooth as a mirror, he climbed like a lizard.
Guo Jing and Hua Zheng were very anxious; if he slipped, the fall would definitely kill him. The silhouette became smaller and smaller and gave the impression he was about to enter the clouds. The girl closed her eyes, afraid of seeing what could happen: “Where is he now?” she asked.
“He’s nearly at the summit,” Guo Jing answered. “There, he made it!”
Opening her eyes, she saw the Taoist fly off as if he was going to fall and let out a scream of fright. In fact, when he reached the summit, the large sleeves of his robe floated in the violent wind that blew there. One had the impression, seen from below, that he was a huge bird.
The man slipped his hand into the nest, caught the two eaglets and put them against his chest. Then, back to the slope he went, where he let himself slip, grabbing a hand on a bump here or giving a kick from time to time, to slow his fall, and reached the ground very quickly.
Guo Jing and Hua Zheng ran towards him. He took the eaglets and said to the girl, in Mongolian, “Will you take good care of them?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she answered quickly. Hua Zheng, surprised and delighted, stretched out her hands.
“Be careful of their beaks,” warned the Taoist, “they are small, but their bite is dangerous...”
Hua Zheng undid her belt and attached it to the legs of the fledglings. Then she held them against herself, delighted, “I am going to look for meat to feed them.”
“Wait,” the Taoist said. “If you want the eaglets, you must promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“You must not tell anyone that I climbed the cliff to catch the birds.”
“Okay,” Hua Zheng said joyfully. “That’s easy. I won't tell anyone.”
“While they are growing,” warned the Taoist while smiling, “these two white eagles will become aggressive. Be very careful while feeding them!”
Happy, she told Guo Jing, “Each of us will have one, and it will be me who keeps them in the meantime, okay?”
Guo Jing nodded his head. Hua Zheng got on her horse and happily rode off.
The young man stayed immobile, as if hypnotized, reviewing in his head the ease of the movements of the Taoist executing ‘The Branch Hits the White Gorilla’. The man grabbed the sword and kindly offered it to him and turned on his heels. Seeing that he was leaving, Guo Jing said, in panic: “You... please... Don't leave...”
“Why not?” asked the Taoist.
Guo Jing scratched his head, not knowing what to say. Suddenly, he kowtowed, knocking the ground with his forehead, without stopping.
“Why do you prostrate yourself before me?” the Taoist asked.
There was a deep ache in Guo Jing’s heart. Seeing the kind face of the Taoist, he felt as if he had met a relative with whom he was able to confide. Suddenly, two big tears rolled down his cheeks and he said while choking back sobs. “Me... Me... I am very dumb, I can't manage to learn martial arts, and I am a disappointment to my six Shifus, to whom I owe everything...” “What are you going to do?” the Taoist asked.
“I give all of myself, day and night, and still I don't manage to do it properly... I really can’t manage to learn it... ”
“Do you want me to show you a way?” he asked.
“Yes, please!” replied Guo Jing, kowtowing again.
The Taoist smiled, “It seems to me that you are full of sincerity. Very well, let's meet each other again in three days; we will meet on the fifteenth day of the month. When the moon is full, I will wait for you at the summit of the cliff. But you must not tell anyone!” Then he left.
“But I won't be able to climb up there,” Guo Jing protested in a rush.
The Taoist didn't answer and it appeared, as he departed, that his feet didn't touch the ground at all, and he was already far away.
"He made that promise on purpose to embarrass me; he doesn't want to teach me.” Then he said himself, "I am not yet without a Shifu and my six Shifus have caused themselves much pain trying to teach me; it’s me that is stupid, what choices do I have ? This Senior is probably very strong, but I won't be able to learn any of what he knows from him anyway; why should I even try?” He contemplated the top of the cliff, and then he tried to not think more about it. He took his sword, and repeated the moves again and again of ‘The Branch Hits the White Gorilla’, until sunset, when hunger urged him to go back home.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye. That afternoon, Han Baoju taught him the ‘Whip of the Golden Dragon’. This kind of flexible weapon required particularly close attention; if one didn't master all the refinements of it, not only would you not reach the enemy, but you risked getting injured by it yourself. Guo Jing, of course, made a false move, and "slash", the whip turned against him, striking him on the head causing a big bump. Han Baoju, who had a legendary harsh character, immediately gave him a slap. Guo Jing didn't dare to shy away and continued to practice. Seeing him putting in a lot of effort, Han Baoju regretted having lost his temper. Even though his pupil made mistakes several more times, the master didn't scold him again. He showed him five more movements, encouraged him, and recommended that he train by himself. Then he left on his horse.
To practice the ‘Whip of the Golden Dragon’ wasn’t an easy task. After having executed the set of the sequences about ten times, Guo Jing’s forehead, arms, and thighs were covered with blue welts. Tired and aching all over, he fell asleep on the grass. When he woke up, the moon had appeared from behind the mountains. He felt burning pains on his whole body and notably on the cheek, where Han Baoju had slapped him.
Contemplating the top of the cliff, he had suddenly a burst of self-esteem, “If the Taoist can climb up there, why not me?” he thought. Clenching his teeth, he ran to the cliff and began to climb it, clinging onto the plants that grew there, slowly going up. At the end of six or seven zhangs, [1 zhang = 3.3 meters / approx. 11ft] the cliff became completely smooth without any vegetation or bumps to grasp. How could he advance further in these conditions? He gritted his teeth, tried two times, but his foot always slipped, and he almost fell. Understanding that any new attempt would be in vain, he wanted to go back down again. When he glanced behind him, he was terrified! He had forced himself to follow this path of ascent, and now found his feet were unable to use the same support points on the way down. If he jumped, he would certainly smash himself below!
Caught in a desperate situation, the words of his Fourth Shifu came to mind, “In this world, there’s nothing impossible to the men of good will.” Since death stared at him from all sides, rather than remain in an untenable position, it was better to continue. He drew his dagger and dug two small holes, in which he slowly placed one foot and steadied himself, and then the other. He rose thus a few more inches. Then he continued to dig in the wall, making more hand and footholds, rising laboriously a few zhangs. Because of the difficulty of the task, his head started to spin and his limbs burned with exhaustion.
He stopped to clear his mind, holding closely to the wall, controlling his breathing. Then he wondered how many holes it would take before arriving at the summit. As strong as his dagger was, it would probably be able to dig ten more holes, and then it would break. Since he had made it this far, he could no longer go back. After a brief rest, he got ready to dig again; then he heard a burst of laughter coming from the summit of the cliff.
&nb
sp; Not daring to lean backward to look, he remained, nose against the smooth wall of the cliff, wondering who this laugh came from. Then he saw a thick rope slip down and stop next to him. He heard the voice of the Taoist saying, “Tie the rope around your waist, I will pull you up.”
Delighted, Guo Jing sheathed his dagger. Holding tightly with his left hand, he took the rope with his right hand and wrapped it around his waist two times and made two knots.
“Did you tie it firmly?” the Taoist shouted.
“It’s done,” Guo Jing said.
The Taoist seemed to not have heard. “Did you tie it?” He asked again.
“It’s done,” Guo Jing repeated, with out any response.
Some instants later, the Taoist laughed again and said. “Ah, I forgot...your breathing is not yet sufficiently powerful, your voice cannot carry as far as mine. If you tied it well, pull three times on the rope!”
Guo Jing obeyed and pulled three times. Suddenly, the rope grew taught; his body flew up toward the summit of the cliff. He knew that the Taoist was going to pull it, but not with such speed. In the blink of an eye, he landed again on his feet, right in front of the old man.
He knelt and got ready to kowtow, but the Taoist held his arm. “Three days ago, you kowtowed more than a hundred times, it is more than enough! You are a child with good character!”
On the summit of the cliff was flat ground covered with snow. The Taoist showed him two big round rocks that looked vaguely like stools, “Sit there.”
“I will remain standing to serve you, Shifu,” Guo Jing said.
“You don't belong to my school,” the Taoist said, still smiling. “I am not your Master, and you are not my disciple. You may sit.”
Guo Jing, perplexed, obeyed and sat down.
“Your six Shifus,” the old man continued, “are well known in the martial arts realm. I don't know them personally, but I’ve always felt a lot of admiration for them. It would be more than enough for you to acquire the techniques of one of them to make yourself a name in the Jianghu. It is not due to a lack of effort on your part, yet, during the past ten years, you haven't progressed that much. Do you know why?”
“It is because I am too dumb. My Shifus have tried very hard to teach me the best they could, but it didn’t help.”
“It’s not really because of you,” the Taoist said. “It’s, as the popular saying goes, ‘If those that teach don't know how to teach, then those that try to learn won’t learn anything’!"
“Shif... uh, I don't understand what you’re saying.”
“If we look only to the core martial arts, the level to which you’ve arrived is not negligible. At the time of your first real fight since the beginning of your training, when you were beaten by the Taoist youth, you questioned yourself and thought it was impossible for you to beat him. On this point, however, you are completely mistaken!”
“How does he know of this matter?” Guo Jing wondered.
“This Taoist youth made you do a somersault, but he did it with a trick. Comparing basic techniques, it’s not at all certain that he surpasses you. Besides, your six Shifus are probably as strong as I am, that’s why I cannot teach you martial arts.”
“He’s right,” Guo Jing thought. “My six Shifus are very strong, it’s me that’s too dumb.”
“Your seven Shifus made a bet,” continued the Taoist. “If I teach you some martial arts, your masters will be sad when they learn of it. They are brave, and place a lot of importance on loyalty and honor. They would refuse to accept any sort of unfair advantage in a bet.”
“What bet?” Guo Jing wondered.
“So you don’t know about it then? Well, if your masters didn't tell you anything about it yet, it’s because you don't have to know about it at the present time. During the next two years, they will certainly explain it to you in detail. Let's look at it this way: you are full of sincerity, and it seems that our meeting was written in destiny. I am going to teach you some methods of breathing, of sitting down, of walking and sleeping.”
The astonishment Guo Jing felt knew no boundaries. “To ‘breathe, to sit down, to walk, to sleep’,” he thought to himself, “I know how to do that already, why would I have to learn it again?” He thought of a lot of questions, but didn't say anything.
“Clear the snow from this big rock,” the Taoist ordered, “you will be able to sleep there.”
Guo Jing thought it strange, but obeyed. He swept off the layer of snow and lay down on the rock.
“Not like that,” the Taoist said. “If it was just sleeping like that, I wouldn’t need to teach it to you. Here are four formulae, remember them well: ‘When the thought fades, the feelings will be forgotten’; ‘When the body empties, the breath will circulate’; ‘When the heart dies, the mind will live’; ‘When the sun rises, the darkness will vanish’."
Guo Jing repeated the formulae several times to learn them by heart, but he didn't understand the meaning of them.
“Before sleeping,” the Taoist continued, “it’s necessary to clear the mind, letting no thoughts or preoccupations remain there. Then, it is necessary to compose the body, while lying on your side, and to breathe in a continuous way through the nose, so that the soul doesn't wander inside and the mind doesn't go outside.”
And so he taught Guo Jing breathing and the mastery of the breath, the technique of meditating and of eliminating worries.
Guo Jing did what the Taoist explained to him. In the beginning, his thoughts stayed chaotic and difficult to control. But after applying the breathing method, exhaling and inhaling deeply, after a certain time, he slowly felt his heart calm down, and a slow breath brought slowly into his ‘dan tian’ (the area between the groin and the navel) brought a warm feeling. An icy wind blew on the summit of the cliff, but he didn't feel any need to resist it. He remained immobile, stretched out on his side, for close to an hour, before feeling some “ants” in his limbs. The Taoist, who was sitting cross legged in front of him, practicing meditation, opened his eyes, “Now,” said the Taoist, “you can fall asleep.”
Guo Jing obeyed and fell asleep. When he woke up, the rays of the sun had begun to radiate from the east. The Taoist let him down the cliff attached to the rope, telling him to come back this evening. He reminded him not to speak of it with anyone.
Guo Jing returned that evening and the Taoist brought him up with the same rope. During his practice with the six Shifus, he often did not go back home at night, but his mother didn't worry about him.
And so he went in the evening and left at dawn, practicing meditation and the mastery of breathing all night on the summit of the cliff. It was strange; the Taoist hadn't taught him any movements at all, not even the smallest sequence, and yet, in his daily practices, he became lighter and faster. Six months later, the movements that he hadn't managed to do before, now were executed perfectly. The sequences that he had never completed some months ago were executed with speed and precision. The ‘Six Freaks of Jiangnan’ believed that, with age and the regular practice, he was finally open to learning martial arts. They no longer felt the frustration they had at the beginning of his training.
Every evening, when he arrived at the cliff, the Taoist climbed with him, showing him how to use his breathing and his strength. They went up together until he was incapable of continuing, then the Taoist rushed to the summit and raised him with the rope. With the passing of the months, the young man climbed more and more quickly, and higher and higher. The steps once so difficult were cleared with only one jump! Only some particularly difficult places still required the help of the rope.
Another year passed, and only a few months remained before the competition. The ‘Six Freaks of the Jiangnan’ spoke of this event as though it was going to change the world of martial arts and
150 Eagle Shooting Hero attract the attention of all the brave heroes in the country. Observing Guo Jing’s lightning progress, the Six felt sure to win, and the idea of returning to their home in Jiangnan filled them
with joy. However, they still hadn’t explained to Guo Jing the reasons for this competition.
One morning, Nan Xiren said to Guo Jing, “Jing’er, in these last few months, you’ve mastered the weapons. It may be that you still lack enough practice fighting with bare hands. Today, we are going to work the palms more.
Guo Jing nodded his head.
They arrived at the place where they usually trained. Nan Xiren got ready to begin the lesson when they suddenly saw clouds of dust rising not far away, accompanied by screams and neighs. A herd of horses approached at a fast gallop and the beasts were agitated; the Mongol who herded them had problems retaining control of them with his whip.
Just when they’d barely settled down, one could suddenly see, coming from the west, a small red horse, with the hair the color of fire. It was speeding along in the herd, harassing it with hoofs and bites, before disappearing northward at the speed of the wind. Then, the red tornado came back in the blink of an eye, provoking a considerable tumult in the herd again. Furious, the herders tried to capture this spoilsport, but the horse was so fast that it was impossible to catch it. In an instant, the horse had moved off and stood several zhangs away, neighing proudly, as if he was very happy with the shambles he’d caused. The Mongols didn't know whether to laugh or be angry. When the small horse charged in for the third time, several guards sent arrows in its direction, but he was so astute and fast that he departed before the projectiles reached it. An expert in martial arts couldn’t have done it any better!
The ‘Six Freaks’, along with Guo Jing, were fascinated. Even Han Baoju, who loved horses above all else, had never seen such a magnificent and fast animal. His own horse, ‘Wind Chaser’, had rare
speed, unequaled even in Mongolia. However, the small red horse surpassed them all. Han asked