by Jin Yong
The Martial Great’s kung fu was formidable, but not to the extent that he could keep skilled fighters of Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji and Wang Chuyi’s level at a distance, barehanded, under normal circumstances. However, the Heavenly Northern Dipper’s power came from the relationship between the seven positions, and, if one fighter were pushed back, the rest would have to retreat alongside them.
Right now, Hao Datong, Sun Bu’er, Ke Zhen’e and Harmony Yin were the weak links. Each step they gained, they were sent back by two.
The Quanzhen monks were preserving the outline of the formation, but Apothecary Huang was able to slip between their well-honed blades at will nonetheless.
“A-ha! I see what he’s doing,” Count Seven said aloud to himself.
“Tell me, please!”
“Our Heretic is a sly old fox. He’s pushed them back so he can tease them into showing him the inner workings of the formation. Within ten moves, he’ll bring them close again.”
Count Seven Hong’s martial abilities might have been diminished by the injuries he had suffered at Viper Ouyang’s hands, but the Venom could not destroy the martial acumen he had acquired through a lifetime’s practice.
Apothecary Huang did exactly as the Beggar had predicted. Each thrust of his palm grew weaker than the last as he drew the Quanzhen Taoists and Ke Zhen’e closer and closer in, until the eight of them were clustered around him.
Four swords speared as one.
To fail to draw blood at such close quarters was unthinkable, and yet, somehow, the blades all glided past, missing the Heretic by a hair’s breadth.
If Liu Chuxuan, Qiu Chuji, Wang Chuyi and Hao Datong were any less agile, they would have each received a gaping wound by a brother’s hand.
Guo Jing could see that Apothecary Huang had grasped the underlying principle behind the formation, and that he would not hesitate to strike at its weakest point—Ke Zhen’e and Harmony Yin.
I can’t do any good from up here … With that thought, he flew down the steps, calling out, “I’m going to help them,” over his shoulder.
5
The contest had taken a different turn by the time Guo Jing reached the courtyard. Having allowed the Taoists to close in on him, Apothecary Huang was now trying to get to the left of Ma Yu.
Clutching the golden dagger, Guo Jing readied himself to pounce the second the Heretic broke through.
Wang Chuyi whistled, then rushed forward, bringing Hao Datong and Sun Bu’er with him. Together, they curled to the left, making up the Dipper’s handle, and wrapped Apothecary Huang back into the Taoists’ midst.
He shifted his footing again and again, and, each time, he was brought back into the fold by Wang Chuyi, or by Qiu Chuji, who led the four positions that formed the scoop of the constellation. But the stubborn Heretic would not give up, aiming once more to get to the left of Ma Yu.
On the fourth attempt, Guo Jing finally realized what the Martial Great was striving for.
The position of the North Star.
* * *
GUO JING had first seen the Heavenly Northern Dipper in action in Ox Village, when the Quanzhen Masters were pitted against Cyclone Mei and Apothecary Huang. With no knowledge of astronomy, he had barely been able to keep up with what was going on, but, since then, as they observed the night skies together, Lotus had told him more about the seven stars that made up the constellation.
Now he knew how to find the North Star, by linking the Heavenly Jade and the Heavenly Pivot in the scoop of the Dipper and extending that line northward. He had also learned that the North Star’s position was fixed—it was always in the same place, and the constellation rotated around it each night.
When he was held by the Beggar Clan on the Jun Hill islet in Dongting Lake, he had compared the stars shimmering in the sky to his memory of the Ox Village fight, and gained an insight into how the formation utilized the connection between the astral positions to amplify the power of an offensive or defensive move. He tested out his new understanding with success that night, when he was beset by swarms of angry beggars.
It went without saying that Apothecary Huang was not only a hundred times smarter than Guo Jing, he was also learned in astromancy and reckoning, as well as Yin Yang and the Five Elements—all of which informed the principles behind the Heavenly Northern Dipper. In Ox Village, he was not able to overcome the formation there and then, but since then he had replayed the confrontation in his head many times over, to look for fatal flaws.
While Guo Jing was eager to learn from Wang Chongyang’s invention, the Heretic was only interested in defeating it. He had come to the conclusion that, if he could take the place of the North Star, the formation would disintegrate on its own. If the Taoists insisted on prolonging the fight, he could manipulate them from his position of power, and never be ousted, according to the eternal forces guiding the stars in the heavens.
* * *
THE TAOISTS too understood the implications of Apothecary Huang’s bid to shoot past Ma Yu at the Heavenly Pivot position. They knew he had discovered the key to neutralizing the formation.
If Tan Chuduan were still alive, they would have been able to charge as one. They may not have been able to subdue the Lord of Peach Blossom Island, but they could have ensured he could never occupy the North Star. But instead the Heavenly Jade position was guarded by Ke Zhen’e and Harmony Yin. Not only were their martial skills inferior to Tan’s, their understanding of the formation was also limited.
Ma Yu was conscious that this fight would not end well if they continued in this way, especially with Guo Jing standing by, poised to enter the fray. If they put Apothecary Huang in real danger, the young man would surely come to his father-in-law’s aid. But how could they shirk the grave responsibility of avenging Zhou Botong and Tan Chuduan’s deaths? Moreover, their late teacher Wang Chongyang was the Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens. If six of his disciples could not overpower Apothecary Huang, they would be shredding, with their own hands, the hard-earned reputation of the Quanzhen Sect as the orthodox school of kung fu.
* * *
“I THOUGHT the students of Wang Chongyang would put up more of a fight,” Apothecary Huang jeered as he charged at Sun Bu’er.
Woo-ooo-oosh! Three blistering cuts from his palm.
Ma Yu and Hao Datong thrust their swords at him in response. Huang swiveled away from the steel points with a slight twist of his torso.
He arced his palm at Sun Bu’er again.
Woo-ooo-oosh! Another three strikes at breakneck speed.
The Lord of Peach Blossom Island had found fame with the torrential way he rained down brisk attacks, relentless in their intricacy. Right this instant, Wang Chongyang could come back to life and Count Seven Hong could recover all his kung fu, and yet, were they in Sun Bu’er’s shoes, both would struggle to evade the knife-edged fury of Apothecary Huang’s palms.
The Taoist nun, needless to say, had no hope against this succession of quick-fire blows from such a formidable opponent. She raised her sword to protect her face, but the Heretic had already changed tactics. He swiped his foot left and right, one sniping strike after another, six times in total.
The Supreme East Wind. An unstoppable amalgamation of two of Peach Blossom Island most famed martial secrets: Cascading Peach Blossom Palm and Swirling Leaf Kick.
Six moves from one kung fu, then six from the other, whipping up a whirlwind onslaught that swirled ever faster as the sequence wore on. By the sixth set—after thirty-six moves altogether—even a first-rate martial artist would have inevitably taken a hit.
The Quanzhen monks closed ranks to come to their martial sister’s aid, but, at high-pressured moments such as this, one small slip can jeopardize the whole enterprise.
Ke Zhen’e was half a beat too slow when his side of the Dipper closed in.
Snickering in triumph, Apothecary Huang slipped past the blind man. Immediately, there came a cry of aiyooo! that instantly began to fade away, as though the soul that uttered it ha
d been snatched by a gust of wind.
The Heretic had grabbed Harmony Yin by the back of his robes and flung him high onto the roof of the Tower of Mist and Rain. And, now that he had at last forced a breach in the formation, he was not going to allow his opponents any respite or a chance to regroup.
Squaring his shoulders, he charged headlong into Ma Yu, expecting the Taoist to skip aside. But the most senior Master among the Quanzhen Seven stood his ground.
Holding his blade in a high guard, Ma extended the index and middle fingers of his left hand in the Sword Sign and speared them at Apothecary Huang, aiming for between his eyebrows, steady and firm with the strength of neigong.
The Heretic veered a little to the side.
“Impressive! You live up to your reputation as the foremost disciple of Immortal Wang.”
Huang twisted around as he spoke, sweeping his foot at Hao Datong and sending the man flying backward in a somersault as his sword clattered to the ground. The Heretic snatched it up and plunged it toward the Taoist’s heart.
Liu Chuxuan dived forward to intercept.
Steel clashed with steel.
“He may yet live.” A burst of laughter exploded from Apothecary Huang, accompanied by a savage pulse of his wrist.
Pak! Both swords snapped at the foible.
A swirl of green. The Lord of Peach Blossom Island was making for the North Star.
* * *
THE TAOISTS knew there was no way to keep the formation intact. This day would mark the end of the Quanzhen Sect.
With a sigh, Ma Yu steeled himself to throw his sword down and yield, but, for some strange reason, the green whirl was heading his way again.
Someone else was standing in the North Star position.
Guo Jing!
Qiu Chuji was thrilled. He had seen how the young man had lunged at Apothecary Huang earlier, at the tavern, with no regard for his own life.
Ma Yu and Wang Chuyi, although unsettled by Guo Jing’s intervention, had faith in the young man’s pure heart. He would never do harm to anyone on the same side as his first shifu—even if he had a duty to help his father-in-law.
But panic mounted in the remaining Taoists. It was only natural that the son-in-law should side with his father. They resigned themselves to a brutal end.
Apothecary Huang, meanwhile, was at a loss. He had assumed that, if he broke the formation and took the North Star, the Quanzhen Masters would be forced to surrender and beg for mercy. It had never occurred to him that the North Star would be taken already.
The Taoists were still bearing down on him with their full force, so, without turning to look, he flung a backhand from Splitting Sky Palm at whoever it was who had secured the position he needed.
It was blocked.
Huang was startled. Who can this be? Only a handful of fighters can withstand such a blow. He fended me off with one hand and held his footing.
He glanced back. Guo Jing?
The Heretic reassessed the situation. He would need to deal with the boy at once, or the Quanzhen monks would steal up from behind and trap him in the formation again.
He chopped, hacked and thrust, each move more brutal and rapid than the last, but Guo Jing dispelled them with his neigong.
Next came a fierce strike lurking within a feint. He tried to draw Guo Jing into attacking him by showing a momentary weakness, but the boy maintained his defensive posture.
Guo Jing held the dagger sideways to guard his chest and drew his other hand slowly across his lower abdomen, deflecting the Heretic’s two-pronged attack.
This considered response alarmed Apothecary Huang further. The busybodies from the Quanzhen Sect must have shared the secret to their formation with the lad, he concluded. That’s the only way this blockhead would know about holding the North Star position. Yes, that must be it—he’s joined forces with them to subdue me!
Not in his wildest dreams would the Heretic have guessed that the youth had worked out the essence of the Heavenly Northern Dipper formation all by himself, thanks to the Nine Yin Manual.
Guo Jing knew that, if he was to avenge his shifus, he would have to resolutely hold the North Star and resist the temptation to chase after the weaknesses Apothecary Huang might feign to lure him out of position. He steeled himself and focused his all his energy on keeping his feet firmly planted, as if nailed to the ground.
You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you? To oppose me! Huh! the Heretic grumbled silently as he appraised the situation. Just know this—you’re forcing me to incapacitate you. Well, as you wish, boy! I’m going to break free and I’ll just have to brave Lotus’s wrath.
Huang raised his left arm, tracing a neat arc. When he reached a spot seven inches in front of his chest, his right palm smacked against the back of his outstretched hand. Together, they flew toward Guo Jing’s face—at double the strength.
If he refuses to move … Lotus will be miserable for life, the Heretic thought, wavering.
Guo Jing knew he could swerve to avoid this powerful blow, but it would mean giving up the North Star, and, if the Heretic got into position, nothing would compel him to give up his place. The young man tried to shut out the voice telling him that his neigong was not up to the task and that fighting in this bull-headed manner would cause nothing but harm to both parties. If he wanted revenge, he had no option, he could not budge, even if it meant serious injury or worse.
Tightening his jaw, he launched a Dragon in the Field and braced himself for impact.
“Move, foolish boy. Why do you stand against me?”
It was Apothecary Huang’s voice, instead of his palms, that struck Guo Jing in the face. He’s holding back from hurting me … The youth shook away the thought and kept his eyes locked on his mentors’ murderer, the golden dagger raised.
The Quanzhen Taoists and Ke Zhen’e had resumed their formation. They were now closing in on Apothecary Huang from behind, biding their time, waiting for an opportunity to strike back.
“Lotus—where is she?”
The longer Apothecary Huang observed Guo Jing, the more unsettled he grew. Why did he have this dark cloud over him? Why such anger in his eyes? Could something have happened to …
“What did you do to her? Tell me!”
He was now looking out for every tiny change in the young man’s bearing, noting how his jaw twitched and his knife hand was beginning to tremble.
“Why is your hand quivering? Why won’t you speak?”
Images of his shifus’ horrific deaths rose up to haunt Guo Jing once more. Grief and anger caused his body to shake and the rims of his eyes to redden.
Apothecary Huang understood from the boy’s silent agitation that something was terribly wrong. He remembered how heartbroken Lotus had been when they had discovered Guo Jing’s betrothal to the Mongolian Princess. Why was she not here with him, right now? Could she have offered up her life to lost love …
The Heretic flexed his toes and pounced.
Qiu Chuji charged, his sword whirling, as Wang Chuyi too swung his blade and Hao Datong thrust his palms, their combined efforts trapping Apothecary Huang between them. The full force of the Heavenly Northern Dipper was once more unleashed.
With a swipe of his palm, Guo Jing parried the brunt of the Heretic’s lunge, and followed up with a stab of his dagger, swift and shrill, like a flash of lightning.
But Huang was undeterred. He redoubled his offensive, clawing at Guo Jing with a backhand slash, his aim precise and vicious.
Just as he was about to trap the young man’s wrist, he sensed the sting of a sword buzzing over his back. He sheered away with a twist of his waist, turning to find that it was Wang Chuyi who had thwarted him, for his minute adjustment had robbed him of the chance to disarm Guo Jing by a mere two inches.
Guo Jing twirled the knife around, hacking, slicing.
The battle was now reaching boiling point. The Quanzhen Masters had joined the conflict intent on avenging the deaths of Zhou Botong and Tan Chuduan, but as it
dragged on, and the Heretic time and again held back from hurting them, the Taoists felt their animosity draining away.
Apothecary Huang was also aware that a feud born of misapprehension had been brewing between him and the Six Freaks of the South since they had first set eyes on each other. The haughty man had considered it beneath his status as their martial senior to explain his position. Instead, he had planned to give the upstarts a good thrashing to instil some manners. Once they had been thoroughly trounced—and had admitted as much to themselves—he would clear the air once and for all.
Sun Bu’er and Harmony Yin would not be standing and breathing right now if he were not inclined to mercy. Yet, he had not factored Guo Jing’s unforeseen appearance into his calculations, nor imagined that he would fight tooth and nail against him. The only possible reason for Guo Jing to act this way was that the young man had done Lotus wrong, that his insistence on honoring his word had shattered her heart, destroyed her will to live and caused her to …
Yes, that would explain everything. He would take the little rat alive and wring the truth out of him.
Meanwhile, with Harmony Yin still clambering down from the roof of the Tower of Mist and Rain, Ke Zhen’e was left to fend for himself. Neverthless, the Heavenly Northern Dipper was rolling staunchly forward, exerting more and more pressure on Apothecary Huang as Guo Jing kept him busy from the North Star.
The Heretic had tried several ways to shift Guo Jing—from outflanking him using his superior qinggong to shoving him aside with brute force—but the Taoists always came to the young man’s assistance at the right moment. By the time Huang had dealt with the monks, Guo Jing was firmly in position once more.
As the fight wore on, Apothecary Huang started to feel increasingly cramped—he knew that, if he was not careful, he could find himself hemmed in before long.
He also had to admit that he felt a certain relief when Ma Yu shouted “Stop!” and pointed his sword to the heavens.