by Jin Yong
“Shifu, you can reconnect the meridians by yourself, without anyone’s help,” Guo Jing said.
“Really?”
“Remember the gibberish at the end of the Nine Yin Manual? Reverend Sole Light has translated it for us,” Lotus explained. “He bade us tell you that you can use the method to heal yourself.” She then recited a portion of the translation, followed by the explanation the monk had shared with them.
Count Seven sat pondering her words for a long time. “Yes!” he cried, jumping to his feet. “It’ll work, but it’ll take a year or so.”
“I suppose Tiger Peng will get Viper Ouyang to help them at the contest on Moon Festival,” Lotus said, changing the subject. “The Urchin’s kung fu is every inch the Venom’s equal, but we can’t guarantee he won’t have one of his episodes. We should get Papa to come, so victory is assured.”
“You’re right. I’ll go to Jiaxing. You head to Peach Blossom Island to fetch your father.”
Guo Jing wanted to escort Count Seven to Jiaxing, but the Beggar brushed aside his concerns. “Time is of the essence. I’ll take Ulaan. I couldn’t possibly run into any trouble with him. One little tap on his rump and no living creature can keep up with us.”
4
The next day at dawn, Count Seven Gobbled a big bowl of noodles and guzzled an equally sizeable bowl of wine to fuel him for the road. He mounted Ulaan and tensed his legs ever so slightly. Sensing the subtle change in pressure, the colt neighed at Guo Jing and Lotus, as if to bid them farewell, and sped north.
Guo Jing stood in silence, long after the Beggar had disappeared over the horizon. Everything that had happened the night before was gnawing at him. Why did First Shifu want to kill…?
Lotus left him to his thoughts and went to the waterfront to arrange their passage to Peach Blossom Island.
The voyage did not take long. This time, she sent the boatman back to the mainland once they had disembarked.
“Guo Jing,” she asked, when they were alone. “Will you grant me one thing?”
“Do you mind telling me what it is first? I don’t want to make a promise I can’t fulfill.”
“I’m not asking you to bring me the heads of your six shifus.”
“Why do you have to bring that up?”
“Why can’t I? You can push it to the back of your mind, but I can’t. I like you, but not enough to let you cut my head off.”
Guo Jing heaved a sigh. “I don’t understand why First Shifu was so angry. He knows I love you more than anyone. He knows I’d rather die a thousand, ten thousand times—or let you cut my head off again and again—than do anything to harm even a hair on your head.”
Moved by this earnest admission, Lotus took his hand and leaned into him.
“Do you think it’s pretty here?” She pointed at a line of weeping willows by the water.
“If I were to picture the home of celestial immortals, it would look like this.”
“I want to live, and I want to live here. I don’t want you to kill me…”
He stroked her hair to reassure her. “Why would I ever do that?”
“What if your shifus, your mother and all your good friends wanted me dead? Would you listen to them?”
“The whole world could want you dead, but I’ll always be on your side. I will always protect you.”
“So, you’re willing to give up everyone—for me?” She gripped his hand tighter.
Hesitation. Silence.
She looked up, into his eyes. Yearning for an answer. Frightened of what it would be.
“Lotus, I told you I want to spend my life with you. Here, on Peach Blossom Island. I meant it when I said it. They weren’t just empty words.”
“Good. Then, from now on, from today, you will stay on the island.”
“Today?”
“Yes. Today. I’ll ask Papa’s help with the contest in Jiaxing. I’ll get Papa to kill Wanyan Honglie with me, so we can avenge your father. I’ll go to Mongolia with Papa to bring your mother here. I’ll implore Papa, I’ll persuade him to apologize to your shifus. I’ll make sure nothing’s left undone—you’ll never be bothered by any unfinished business. There’ll be nothing to disturb your peace of mind.”
Recognizing the note of peculiar desperation in her tone, Guo Jing tried to dispel her fears. “Lotus, you know I’d never break any of my promises to you. You don’t have to be like this. You can set your mind at ease.”
She sighed.
Silence.
At length, she said, “It’s hard to speak with certainty about anything that happens in this world. When you accepted your troth-plight to the Mongolian Princess, you didn’t imagine that you would break it one day. All my life, I’ve always done what I want, whenever I want, but now I realize…” She trailed off and lowered her head as her eyes welled up. “You think you’ve got it all planned out, but the heavens will always trip you up.”
Guo Jing had no answer. His heart was going through the same upheaval. On the one hand, he wanted to spend his life with her on the island, as he had pledged, to honor her love; on the other, he could not simply cast aside every association with the outside world, every human connection in his life, though he could not explain to himself why it would not be possible for him to meet that demand.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” Lotus’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s not that I’m forcing you to stay, it—it’s just—I’m … terrified.” She buried her face in his chest, and her body quivered as she sobbed.
Guo Jing had not realized how much she was troubled by the uncertainties ahead. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “What’s disturbing you?”
Her tears just fell faster.
He thought of their time together, the dangers and difficulties they had lived through by each other’s side. Never once was she afraid. She had taken every situation in her stride, with a giggle and a rejoinder. Yet, right now, on her beloved island, about to see her father, she was in floods of tears. Why?
“Are you worried something bad might have happened to your papa?”
A shake of the head.
“Are you scared that, if I leave this island, I’ll never come back?”
The same response.
Four or five questions later, he was still nowhere near the answer.
At last, she turned to face him. “I can’t put into words what terrifies me. It’s just, whenever I think of your first shifu—when he was attacking me—something in his eyes makes me flinch, even now Something makes me think that, one day, you’ll heed his words, and take my life. That’s why I beg you to stay on the island. Do it for me, please!”
“Is that it? I thought it was something really bad.” He gave her a smile. “Remember when we were in Zhongdu? My shifus called you ‘she-demon’ at first, but they relented afterward. They may seem stern on the outside, but they’re really very gentle and kind. Once you get to spend more time with them, you’ll see, and I know they’ll like you very much. You’ve seen Second Shifu’s sleight of hand; I’m sure he’d be thrilled to teach you a trick or two. And Seventh Shifu has the sweetest temper—”
“So you’re determined to leave?”
“No, we’ll leave together, and we’ll kill Wanyan Honglie together. After that, we’ll go to Mongolia together for my mother, and we’ll all come back together. Wouldn’t you like that?”
“That means we’ll never come back together. We’ll never spend our lives together.” Her enunciation was slow and dispassionate.
“Why?”
“I can’t explain it.” She shook her head. “It’s something I saw in your first shifu’s face. And I knew then. Killing me isn’t enough for him. He loathes me from the core of his being. It comes from the marrow of his bones.”
Guo Jing could feel her heart cracking a little more with each word she uttered. Even though her features were unchanged, the twinkle of carefree mischief had been dulled by a shroud of brooding anxiety, as if she could already see with her own eyes th
e horror that was to come.
Her intuition has never failed us. If I don’t listen to her now, and something bad happens later, what will I do then?
Guo Jing’s heart tightened at that thought and the words rolled off his tongue before he realized what he was saying.
“Come what may! I won’t leave.”
Lotus gazed at him, her cheeks marked by two bright rivulets of tears.
CHAPTER SIX
UPHEAVAL ON THE ISLAND
1
“Is there anything else—?”
“No, nothing,” Lotus whispered, then her voice grew strong with certainty. “If I ask for anything more, I know the heavens will not grant it.”
She flicked her sleeves skyward and began to dance. The golden band over her hair gleamed in the sun. Her dress fluttered in a breeze of her own making. She twirled with more urgency, unfurling her sleeves at the trees around her, sending a flurry of petals into the air. Red, white, yellow, purple, they flittered around her like so many butterflies. She sprang up, leaping from tree to tree, capering in the footwork and postures of Wayfaring Fist and Cascading Peach Blossom Palm. She was euphoric.
This scene reminded Guo Jing of a story his mother used to tell him when he was small, about a celestial mountain in the Eastern Sea.
Peach Blossom Island is more wonderful than that fabled place, he said to himself. And Lotus more beautiful than any heavenly creature.
“Yi?” Lotus let out a quiet note of apprehension and put an end to her frenzied dance. She jumped down, beckoned Guo Jing to follow her and sprinted into the woods.
Guo Jing made sure he was never more than a step behind. The last thing he wanted was to get lost on this island again.
Lotus zigzagged through clumps of vegetation at top speed, then came to a halt without any warning.
“What is that?” She was pointing at a sandy brown lump ahead, her tone ominous.
Guo Jing ventured closer.
A horse.
One he knew very well. Wind Chaser, his third shifu Ryder Han’s beloved companion. She had traveled to Mongolia with her master almost twenty years ago, and Guo Jing had known her since he was a little boy.
He reached out to touch her belly. The warmth of life had long deserted her. Finding his old friend’s lifeless body in this unlikely location hit Guo Jing hard.
She might be in her twilight years, but the last time he had seen her she had been as robust and as fleet of foot as ever. How come she lay dead, here, of all places? Third Shifu must be devastated.
Then it occurred to Guo Jing that she had not collapsed sideways, as he would expect from a horse that had died from natural causes. Her great form was crumpled over her buckled legs. He had seen this pose once before … Khojin’s steed, when it was struck dead by Apothecary Huang.
Gathering his inner energy, he cradled the mare’s neck and heaved, so he could reach under to feel her forelegs. The bones were shattered. Gently, he set her down and felt her back and loin. Her vertebrae, crushed. He examined her golden coat, turning her over, as a sickening dread took hold of his stomach. He could not find a single scratch on her body.
Who killed Wind Chaser? Where is Third Shifu? The questions haunted Guo Jing as he sat heavily on the ground. Then he remembered where they were.
Only one person on this island had the ability to strike dead a horse this way. And this person was known to be cruel and cold-hearted enough to do such a thing to a harmless creature.
Apothecary Huang.
* * *
LOTUS HAD been observing Guo Jing, keeping her thoughts to herself.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” she said, after giving him a moment to work through his thoughts. “We’ll search the area carefully and find out what actually happened.”
With those muted words, she flicked away stray branches and leaves to inspect the marks left on the trail, moving forward slowly.
When Guo Jing realized Lotus had found footprints in the sodden earth, he pushed past her to follow them. He blundered onward without a care, as if he had forgotten that he could end up hopelessly enmeshed in this labyrinth of an island.
The footprints came and went, just like the paths Guo Jing had been speeding along. Each time, it was Lotus who rediscovered the trail by backtracking, probing between rocks and through the undergrowth. Sometimes, no impressions were left on the ground, but she would spy faint lines scored by weapons on tree trunks, or other signs of human activity among the vegetation.
Several li later, they came upon a sea of flowering shrubs, with a mound bulging from its center.
This time, it was Lotus who darted ahead.
Guo Jing had stumbled across this site on his first visit. Lotus’s mother was interred among the blossoms. He recalled bowing at her perfectly tended memorial, but the scene before his eyes now diverged from the image in his memory.
Here lies Madam Feng,
Mistress of Peach Blossom Island
The same characters were now lying sideways. The headstone had been knocked to the ground.
He lifted it the right way round.
Lotus, meanwhile, was staring at the exposed tomb entrance. She knew in her gut that something monstrous had happened. She battled the urge to rush inside, and forced herself to take in the surroundings first.
The lawn to the left of the entrance was badly trampled. The stone portal bore marks from a clash of weapons.
She stepped inside the tomb passage and listened. Deathly silence. Unable to make out any sound from within, she began to venture forward.
Guo Jing hurried after her, feeling nervous about the hidden threats they might find lurking underground.
Lotus proceeded with caution, her mind reeling at the cracks and chips on the masonry lining the walls. Testament to the fierce tussle that had taken place in the narrow passage.
Several zhang into the tunnel, a cudgel lay in her way. She picked it up and held it to the last of the light reaching in through the unguarded entry.
One half of a steelyard. Gilden Quan’s weapon. The balance beam, wrought from refined iron, was as thick as a child’s arm. It had been snapped at the midpoint.
Lotus caught Guo Jing’s eye and saw what was on his mind. A possibility she dared not voice.
Only a handful of martial Masters in this world had the strength to snap the sturdy instrument in two with their bare bands. Considering where they were now, this list narrowed down to one candidate.
Her own father.
Guo Jing seized the broken weapon from Lotus’s shaking hands and stuffed it into his belt. He then crouched low and felt his way along the progressively gloomy passageway. His heart was a string of buckets dancing up and down the shaft of a well, as he searched for the rest of the weapon, at the same time desperately hoping that he would find nothing. The sounds of his robes dragging on the paving stones masked neither the sniffles from his nose nor the whines from his throat.
He crawled. He groped. He stopped. He had come into contact with something hard and round. The counterweight. The flying bludgeon his sixth shifu used to devastating effect in combat.
He scooped it up and placed it in his pocket. It was too dark to see, so he let his sense of touch guide him. His fingertips brushed against something less hard than iron or stone, but as cold as both. The undulating surface was almost waxy …
A face?
He jerked back—pang!—and smacked his head into the marble-lined vault of the passageway. He was too busy fumbling in his shirt for his tinderbox to feel any pain. As the small flame burst into life, he felt the last vestige of air being punched out of his lungs. Inside, his head was being pounded into pulp. Outside, the corridor spun before his eyes.
Blackness was all that remained.
Guo Jing had fainted, but the match was still burning in his hand. Lotus was now confronted with the sight that had knocked him out cold.
Gilden Quan’s glassy eyes stared into hers. The missing half of his weapon protruded from his chest.
The truth, right there, in her path. A reality she had no choice but to face head-on. She tried to keep calm, mustering what courage she could find within and taking a step closer to Guo Jing. She pulled the tinder from his hand and held it under his nose.
She watched the coil of smoke worm its way into his nostrils, making him sneeze. She watched his heavy eyelids part with reluctance, his unfocused eyes taking in her face before flitting away to anywhere else but her. She watched him clamber to his feet and step mechanically around his sixth shifu’s remains, heading further into the sepulcher.
She staggered on behind him.
Her mother’s burial chamber.
Chaos.
A chunk of stone was missing from the offering table. Hacked away in battle.
In the corner to their left, someone lay on his side, his back toward them. He wore a headscarf. He was in the shadows, but it was clear who he was. Zhu Cong the Intelligent, the second of the Freaks.
Guo Jing crossed the room and reached out to his Master, helping him onto his back. His body was as cold and lifeless as the stone chamber it lay in. His shoes had slipped off his feet. Yet, a phantom smile lingered on his face, a harrowing expression under the flickering flame.
“Second Shifu, I’m here,” Guo Jing said as he cradled his teacher, shifting him into a sitting position. A series of soft clinks. Gems and precious trinkets were tumbling from inside the dead man’s robes.
Lotus picked up a piece of jewelry that had rolled close to her and let it slip between her fingers after a quick glance.
Sighing, she said, “That’s Mama’s—”
“You—you think my shifu came here to steal? How—how dare you!”
She felt Guo Jing’s glare and turned to him. She would not be cowed. Not by that hate-filled look. Not by the menace in his growl. She held his gaze, looking deep into his wild, bloodshot eyes.
“My second shifu is a hero. A man of virtue! He’d never steal from your father. A-a-above all else, he’d never steal from your mother’s tomb!”
Despite this outburst, Guo Jing could see that there was no hint of an accusation in the eyes looking back at him. Just woe, he said to himself, and his rage fizzled out. He took in the jewels on the floor. These glittering objects had spilled from his mentor’s clothes. That was something he could not deny.