by Jin Yong
Seeing Hou Tonghai bound into the arena, weapon in hand, the spectators believed that he was going to help one of the fighters and, finding this unworthy, began to hoot. Mu Yi, who now knew that he was also part of the royal household, moved forward, ready to fight him if he tried something against Guo Jing. He remained conscious of the fact that the enemy was superior in numbers. However, Hou Tonghai was not angry at Guo Jing. He sped along to the other side and into the crowd where a puny young boy in rags jumped up after seeing him and turned tail. The ‘Three-Headed Dragon’ rushed after him, followed by four men.
Out of the corner of his eye, Guo Jing realized that it was Huang Rong, the new friend that he had gotten acquainted with in Kalgan. Hou Tonghai pursued him with his weapon in hand, followed by the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’. Very worried, he threw a kick and jumped backward. “A moment please!” he exclaimed. “I need to stop for one moment; we will continue our fight later.”
The Young Prince, tired of this fight, had lost all desire to continue. This request could not have come at a better time. “If you admit your defeat,” he sneered, “you can go...”
Preoccupied with his friend's safety, Guo Jing got ready to lend him assistance when he heard the sound of footsteps; it was Huang Rong who had come back dragging a worn-out old shoe and laughing. Hou Tonghai pursued and called him names and tried to hit him on the back with his trident. But Huang Rong was extraordinarily agile and the trident always missed its target by a small margin. The young boy adroitly slipped through the crowd and had already come out again on the other side. When Hou Tonghai came nearer, one could see the black marks of two palms on his cheeks; obviously, the fragile boy had managed to slap him twice. Hou Tonghai pushed aside everyone in his way and managed to find a path through the crowd, but Huang Rong was already far away. Hou Tonghai stopped and made gestures to show Huang Rong what he had in mind. “If I don't succeed in catching and slicing you up,” Hou Tonghai howled, insane with rage, “I don't want to be called a man any longer!”
Huang Rong waited until Hou Tonghai came nearer before fleeing again. Everyone burst out laughing. In the meantime, three breathless men arrived, they were three of the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’; the one missing was Qian Qingjian, known as ‘Axe Buries Family’.
Seeing such a spectacle, Guo Jing was surprised and pleased at the same time. He thought, “This friend of mine must have excellent kung fu. The other day, in the Black Pine Woods, it must have been him who lured Hou Tonghai away and hung the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’ from the trees!” The surprise was not less in the opposition camp.
‘Supreme Virtue Lingzhi’ asked: “Ginseng Immortal, that little beggar has remarkable agility, to which school does he belong? Apparently, Brother Hou has lost this skirmish...”
The white-haired Master of the Mountain of Eternal Whiteness was called Liang Ziwong. Since his youth he had consumed natural ginseng and other herbs which had protected him from the advance of old age. He didn't recognize the kung fu style of the little beggar and shook his head. Then, after a moment, he said, “When I am outside the Pass (the border crossing between China proper and the lands to the north), I’ve often heard claims that the ‘Dragon King of the Demonic Group’ was a frightening expert; who would have thought that his martial brother was such a pitiful figure, even to the point of not being able to handle a mere child?”
The small man was Peng Lianhu. He frowned without answering. He was a great friend of the ‘Dragon King of the Demonic Group’, with whom he often collaborated and assisted in robbing raids. He knew the kung fu of Hou Tonghai, which was not bad, but couldn't explain how he could be toyed with that easily.
The diversion with Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai had stopped the duel between Guo Jing and the young Prince. The latter clearly had the edge on Guo Jing, since he’d succeeded in making his adversary fall several times; but he himself had received a multitude of blows and felt tired out. He wiped off the sweat which ran down his face with the scarf he wore as a belt.
Mu Yi, who had stowed the brocade banner, held Guo Jing’s hand, thanking him warmly and urging him to leave this place. Suddenly, the pitter-patter of feet was heard as Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai returned, one chasing the other. The former held two pieces of fabric, two pieces which matched pieces missing from the tunic of the latter; the torn tunic exposed a hairy chest. A little later, Wu Qinglie and Ma Qingxiong appeared, weapons in hand, faithfully and breathless following. Missing was Shen Qinggang, whom Huang Rong apparently managed to dispose of in some mysterious way. The commotion provoked more laughter and jibes from the audience.
Shouts came from the west as several tens of soldiers, wicker rods in their hands, shouted and struck the onlookers to open the way for a large red and golden sedan chair carried by six well muscled men. “It is the Princess,” exclaimed the servants of the young Prince.
“Which idiot had the insolence to inform my mother?” the latter thundered, frowning. The servants, who did not dare to answer, hastened to approach the sedan chair which halted at an emptied spot.
“Why are you fighting?” a soft female voice was heard from inside. “It’s snowing and you don't have your coat on, you will certainly catch a cold ...”
Hearing that voice from a distance, Mu Yi seemed as if struck by lightning. “How is this possible?” he thought, dumbfounded. “That voice resembles hers so much! But that's impossible, she is a Jin princess ... Perhaps I've thought too much about my wife and I've become crazy ...” Despite everything, he could not stop himself from edging nearer to the sedan chair. He saw a dainty hand with a handkerchief appear from inside the sedan chair and tenderly wipe the sweat from the face of the young nobleman, who listened to the words pronounced in a low voice, undoubtedly of reproach and admonition ... “But mom,” the young Prince said, “I was just having fun, all is well ...”
“Put your coat on quickly,” the Princess said, “and let us go home ...”
“How could two voices be that similar?” Mu Yi, still astonished, saw the white hand disappearing behind a silk curtain on which peonies were embroidered in gold wire. He tried to peer in but couldn’t see through the bright curtain.
One of the servants collected the brocade coat of his Master and yelled at Guo Jing, “Animal! Look at the state this coat is in and you’re the cause!” One of the soldiers that came with the Princess raised his wicker rod and violently slashed down at Guo Jing's head. Guo Jing dodged, seized the wrist of his attacker, took the rod away, and tripped him. The man fell on the ground and Guo Jing whipped him with the rod. “You dare to strike wrongly and viciously?” he shouted. The crowd, some of whom had received blows from the rod, applauded in appreciation. The other soldiers shouted and hastened to the rescue of their companion, but Guo Jing took them by pairs and tossed them away.
Eagle Shooting Hero 213 “Still showing off?” the young Prince shouted. He leapt at Guo Jing and both exchanged blows again. The Princess shouted for him to stop, but the son did not seem to fear his mother, “Look at me, mom,” he exclaimed. “This bloody peasant is doing wicked things in the capital! If he is not taught a good lesson, he won't respect his old man!” He wanted to give his best performance and he doubled his efforts. Guo Jing, not being able to parry his nimble and fast palms, was struck by several blows and stumbled twice.
Mu Yi, for his part, was still hypnotized by the sedan chair. A corner of the curtain had been opened; he saw two caring eyes, some hair strands and part of the face of a mother, full of tenderness and worry for her son. Mu Yi remained frozen.
Guo Jing’s moves had changed for the better but he was confronted with an adversary with renewed vigour. The young Prince sought to deliver mortal blows, hoping to injure his adversary seriously, in order to put a definite end to the combat. But Guo Jing had a thick skin and a good neigong basis so he was able to endure many blows. Moreover, the techniques of the prince lacked sophistication; his power was limited because of his youth and lack of experience.
He tried on several occasions to grab Guo Jing with ten fingers forming claws, using the technique which had enabled him to injure Mu Yi, but the disciple of the Six Freaks defended himself using the technique ‘Disconnect the Muscles and Separate the Bones’. As the brawl reached its climax, one could again see Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai running after each other. This time, the latter had a long straw in his hair. Usually this is a sign indicating an item is on sale. A bit of straw on his head thus meant that the head was to be sold. It was obviously Huang Rong’s doing, of which Hou Tonghai was not yet aware because he was so occupied with the chase! The remaining two ‘Demons of the Yellow River’ had also disappeared, obviously disposed of in some way ...
Liang Ziwong and his companions racked their brains over the identity of Huang Rong. They watched Hou Tonghai running swiftly, but he never managed to catch up with the boy in rags. “Could this kid be a member of the Beggar Clan?” Peng Lianhu asked suddenly. The Beggar Clan was at this time the most powerful secret society in the realm of Jianghu (Rivers and Lakes region). Liang Ziwong twitched, but didn't answer.
The two young people attacked each other more swiftly and with increasing strength. Occasionally Guo Jing received a palm blow on his shoulder and sometimes the prince got a kick on his thigh. They fought body against body, raging and panting. Even an amateur could see that the fight was becoming increasingly dangerous; the least distraction could cause a fatal injury. Peng Lianhu and Liang Ziwong prepared their hidden projectiles covertly, in order to intervene when necessary. Although Guo Jing was a very obstinate person, his kung fu was not yet a match for the young prince. The two experts persuaded themselves that they would be able to take control of the situation in time to prevent a disaster.
Guo Jing's type of development was difficult to reproduce. Having grown up on the steppe, he had undergone all the rigors of life there and had experienced and was hardened by numerous battles. The Prince, on the other hand, had always lived in luxury; it was no wonder, that in this utterly brutal and merciless endurance battle, he began stumbling as he began to suffer from fatigue. Guo Jing suddenly uttered a great cry, seized his adversary by the collar, raised him high and violently threw him to the ground. It was neither the technique ‘Disconnect the Muscles and Separate the Bones’ nor qinna [the art of seize and control], but a unique Mongolian wrestling technique that Jebe, his archery teacher, had taught him.
The Prince reacted promptly by jumping up as soon as he touched the ground and seized Guo Jing’s legs so that they both fell. He got up quickly, tore a long lance from the hands of a soldier and thrust it towards Guo Jing's stomach. Guo Jing rolled to the side, while the other continued handling the long lance with dexterity. Guo Jing tried to grab the lance with the stance ‘To Seize the Blade’, but in vain!
“My son,” the Princess exclaimed, “do not injure him! Be satisfied with winning!” However, the Prince, who seemed really eager to pin Guo Jing down with the lance, turned a deaf ear.
Guo Jing, seeing the gleaming tip of the lance a few inches from his nose, parried with his arm, and something collapsed behind him. He seized Mu Yi’s brocade banner. Using the stance ‘Drawing Aside the Clouds to Peer at the Sun’, he used the pole like a long staff to counter the circling lance.
With both fighters armed now, Guo Jing employed the techniques of the ‘Exorcizing Staff taught by his First Shifu. In spite of the length of the pole, which obstructed him a little, he could deploy all subtleties of this art methodically developed by Ke Zhen' E to counter Mei Chaofeng. Each movement used variants, often unexpected, but always effective. Surprised by the ability of that weapon, the Prince was forced to defend. But his dexterity with the lance was still impressive.
As Mu Yi watched the Prince handling that weapon, he was astonished; all his stances corresponded with the spear style of the Yang family. This technique, which was only handed down from father to son, was rarely seen even in the South. He was really dumbfounded seeing it now in the capital of the Jin. In spite of his nimble movements, this version of the lance style did not seem completely orthodox; it appeared devoid of its essence as if it had been copied without the knowledge of its rightful owner. The watchers saw the crossing and swaying of the lance and the banner pole, scattering the snowflakes in all directions.
The Princess, seeing her son almost sweating blood, could not contain her anxiety any longer, “Stop!” she exclaimed. “Stop fighting both of you!”
Hearing these words, Peng Lianhu advanced with large steps into the arena and he struck the banner pole brutally. Guo Jing felt a sharp pain in his hands and released the pole, which flew away. The brocade banner spread in the wind and one could read, through the falling snowflakes, the golden letters: ‘Joust to Find a Spouse’. Very surprised, Guo Jing did not even have time to see the face or the silhouette of his adversary as he felt the coming blow. He leapt back, but was too slow; the palm of Peng Lianhu had already touched his arm and he lost balance and fell to the ground.
“Young Prince,” Peng Lianhu said, laughing, “I will get rid of this thoughtless young man, so that he can not intrude any longer ...” He raised his palm, inhaled deeply, and sent a brutal blow at Guo Jing’s head. Guo Jing, who was on the ground, knew that he did not stand a chance, but regardless, he raised his arms to parry the blow. ‘Supreme Virtue’ Lingzhi and the ‘Ginseng Immortal’ exchanged glances; the arms of the young man would be lost, the blow of the ‘Butcher of One Thousand Hands’ was violent and was obviously going to smash them.
At this critical moment, a shout came from the crowd, “Hold on!” A gray silhouette holding a strange weapon leapt forward and wrapped up the right wrist of Peng Lianhu. Peng Lianhu withdrew with force, cracking and breaking the weapon, then attacked with his left palm immediately. The man avoided the blow by lowering his head, while seizing Guo Jing by the waist and carrying him away. The spectators saw a middle-aged Taoist, dressed in gray, who had been holding a fly-whisk in his hand, of which only the handle remained. The torn-off strands of the fly-whisk were still around Peng Lianhu’s wrist. They looked at each other; although they had exchanged only one stance, they’d been able to fathom each others kung fu.
“You are undoubtedly the famed Master Peng?” the Taoist said. “It is a great honor to meet you here today.”
“You are overly courteous. May I ask the name of Master Taoist?”
The Taoist, on which all eyes were fixed, did not answer. He stepped forward with his left foot and then withdrew it. One could see on the ground, covered with a very fine layer of snow, a ten inch deep hole! The simple pressure of his foot had dug such a deep hole, revealing extraordinary kung fu.
Peng Lianhu was startled and said, “Are you the ‘Immortal with the Iron Foot’, Jade Sun Wang?”
“Now Master Peng is over praising,” the Taoist answered. “I am indeed Wang Chuyi, but I am not worthy of the title ‘Immortal’.”
Peng Lianhu, Liang Ziwong and ‘Supreme Virtue’ Lingzhi knew very well that Wang Chuyi was an eminent member of the Quanzhen [Absolute Perfection] Sect; his fame was only slightly less than that of ‘Eternal Spring’, Qiu Chuji. They had only heard of, but never seen him. They examined him attentively. He was a man with fine features and a little goatee on his chin. He wore immaculate white socks, gray shoes, and seemed to take much care to his clothing. If he had not demonstrated his kung fu, nobody there would believe that he was indeed the ‘Immortal with the Iron Foot’, who, by keeping one foot on a cliff’s edge and swaying like a "lotus leaf in the wind", had much impressed the brave men of Hebei and Shandong.
Wang Chuyi smiled and said, pointing at Guo Jing, “I don't know this young friend at all, but seeing him intervening with such bravery and courage, I was full of admiration. That is why I permit myself to beg Master Peng to let him live.”
“The request was made with such courtesy,” said Peng Lianhu, “and when an eminent Quanzhen master intervenes, who wouldn't grant him a request?”
“Very well,” Wang Chuyi answ
ered, cupping his hands, “thank you.....”
After thanking Peng, he asked Guo Jing his name. Then Wang Chuyi turned and his expression changed; his face darkened and he asked the young Prince sternly, “What is your name? Who is your Shifu?”
The young Prince, after having heard the name of Wang Chuyi, felt ill and would have liked to disappear unnoticed. However, the Taoist had kept an eye on him, “My name is Wanyan Kang,” he answered, “I cannot reveal the name of my Shifu.”
“Your Shifu has a red mole on his left cheek, hasn't he?” Wanyan Kang wanted to divert the question with a witty remark, but the terrible glance of the Taoist frightened him; he suppressed what he intended to say, and nodded. “I suspected it,” Wang Chuyi said, “You are the disciple of Brother Qiu. What did your Shifu tell you before teaching you martial arts?”
Wanyan Kang understood the situation had become very untenable for him. He thought, “If Shifu hears of what has happened today, it will be a catastrophe!”
“If Master Taoist knows my Shifu,” he said in a servile manner, “you deserve my complete respect. Why don't you come to my modest residence, so that I can benefit from your advice?” Before Wang Chuyi could answer, the prince turned to Guo Jing and said while bowing, “After exchanging blows, a friendship may grow,” he said smiling. “I admire the kung fu of Brother Guo very much. I invite you both to come to my house in order for us to get to know each other better.”
“And what will happen about the marriage?” Guo Jing asked, pointing at Mu Yi and his daughter.