by Jin Yong
“That’s enough for today,” the Venom said. “We’ll resume tomorrow, after you’ve practiced a few moves from the Nine Yin Manual.”
“Pah!” Guo Jing spat, righted a stool that had been flipped over during the fight and settled down to eat. He tore off a large mouthful of meat and pondered the Venom’s words as he chewed.
You want me to show you moves from the Manual. Do you realize that will make me your shifu? Ha! He was amused by the thought. I won’t fall for your tricks. You can kill me. I don’t care! Because you’ll never find out the Manual’s secrets from me … Now, what can I do to fend off that move of yours, just now?
Guo Jing considered all the different palm- and fist-fighting systems he had learned, but none seemed capable of countering the move that had undone him. Then he recalled a technique called Willow Catkins, from the Nine Yin Manual, which was a method for ratcheting up one’s strength. Maybe it could help neutralize the force contained within the Venom’s vicious swipe?
But I’ll practice it in my head, Guo Jing thought, aiming a silent jibe at his captor. You can try reading my mind, if you want to learn it! Once he had picked the mutton leg clean, he sat cross-legged on the floor and tried to visualize the relevant passage from the Manual, picturing the flow of energy in action. His familiarity with the Transforming Muscles, Forging Bones chapter in the martial tract had provided him with a solid foundation in advanced methods for controlling his body, and that understanding had been further augmented by the key tenets interpreted by Reverend Sole Light. In less than four hours, he was able to master the theory of Willow Catkins.
Guo Jing stole a sideway glance at Viper Ouyang, who was seated in a similar posture and appeared to be working on his neigong.
“Let’s fight again!” the young man cried, leaping to his feet, the edge of his hand already slicing down at the Venom.
Viper Ouyang twirled his palm to parry the strike. After several minutes’ back and forth, he repeated the same jab at Guo Jing’s midriff. This time, his hand slipped as he made contact, and as a result, he was drawn forward. Sensing a palm chopping down at his neck, Viper let himself be carried by the momentum of his aborted attack, gliding out of reach.
“Excellent move! Is it from the Nine Yin Manual? What’s it called?” The Martial Great was impressed by the effectiveness of Guo Jing’s maneuver.
“Sacayotu amukta.”
Unable to make head nor tail of Guo Jing’s reply, the Venom assumed that the young man must be quoting the strange passage at the end of the Manual. This bull-headed boy won’t bend to my will, he said to himself, suppressing a cackle of triumph, but I can trick him into revealing the Manual’s secrets.
Spurred on by that thought, Viper altered the flow of energy to his palms and the contest resumed. Each time Guo Jing sensed that he was about to be overpowered, he halted their duel and sat down to practice a new skill. That night, he lay on his back and slept soundly, without a care, while the Venom tossed and turned, apprehensive that the boy might use the cover of darkness either to ambush him or to escape.
* * *
A MONTH flew by. Half the livestock in the village had ended up in the stomachs of Viper Ouyang and Guo Jing, as the pair continued to coexist in a delicate balance, sparring every day. Guo Jing had to admit that such close proximity to his arch enemy had forced him to practice kung fu as never before and learn new techniques.
As one of the greatest Masters of the age, Viper was able to glean much insight into the Nine Yin Manual by monitoring the young man’s advancements, though when he compared his observations with the text in his possession, they never aligned. This greatly perplexed him. Indeed, the more he thought about it, the less it made sense, so he pressed Guo Jing harder. As a result, the young man improved by leaps and bounds in a matter of weeks.
At this rate, the boy’s going to get the better of me before I’ve fathomed the secrets of the Manual, Viper realized with alarm.
In the beginning, Guo Jing had fought back full of resentment, but, as time went by, he was gripped by the desire to win and a determination to see their contest through to the bitter end. The young man wanted to dispatch the Venom using his martial knowledge, even if that seemed nigh on impossible. The challenge spurred him on, inspiring him to keep his anger in check and focus all his energies on his training. Nevertheless, the power of Viper Ouyang’s signature Exploding Toad kung fu was founded upon a deep well of neigong, and such internal strength could only be built up little by little over a long period of time. Guo Jing knew that, for all the great progress he was making, he could not match Viper in that respect.
Their duel intensified when Guo Jing found an iron sword beside one of the dead bodies in the village and began practicing with the blade. Viper Ouyang’s weapon of choice was his Serpent Staff, which housed two extremely venomous snakes in a secret compartment, but the original had been claimed by the waves during the duel at sea against Count Seven Hong, as they sailed from Peach Blossom Island, more than a year before. He had had a new one cast, sending his most trustworthy retainers to the Western Regions to seek out similar adders, but this replacement had been confiscated and later destroyed by Surefoot Lu some months ago. Now Viper was armed only with an ordinary iron staff, but, nonetheless, he was able to send the young man’s sword flying again and again, thanks to his rich repertoire of moves. Had he still possessed the snakes, Guo Jing would have been undone in no time at all.
For the past few days, the peace of the deserted village had been disturbed by whinnying horses and boisterous soldiers, as the Great Khan’s army marched home, eastward, but Guo Jing and Viper Ouyang were so engaged in their duel that they paid them no heed. At last, as dusk gave way to a crisp, clear night, the last troops passed through and tranquility returned.
Standing in a corner of the stone hut, Guo Jing tightened his grip on the sword’s hilt as he watched the Venom. Nothing you do with your staff tonight will prise this blade from my hands, the young man silently promised his opponent. Though he knew he did not yet have the ability to get the better of the martial Master, he was eager to try out his newly acquired techniques.
“Scoundrel, where do you think you’re going?”
Viper Ouyang and Guo Jing regarded each other in shock at the sound of a familiar voice. The same thought crossed their minds: What’s Zhou Botong the Hoary Urchin doing this far west?
Guo Jing was about to rush out to greet his sworn brother when he heard hurried footsteps approaching the hut … Two people … One running ahead, the other stalking close behind.
With a wave of his hand, Viper whipped up a gust and extinguished the candle, plunging the room into total darkness. Presently, the door opened with a creak. A man charged inside, followed a moment later by Zhou Botong.
Viper noted with alarm that the first man, fleet and light on his feet, seemed to have outrun the Hoary Urchin, which meant his kung fu was comparable to that overgrown child’s. Only a handful of martial masters were at the Urchin’s level, and, if the man turned out to be Apothecary Huang or Count Seven Hong, then the Venom would need to formulate a plan of escape that very instant. The quietest ruffle followed by a barely audible tap interrupted Viper’s thoughts. The man must have jumped up onto the rafters.
“I love hide-and-seek! Nothing makes the Hoary Urchin happier. You’re not slipping away again.”
The wooden door slammed shut, then a scuffle and a thump were heard. Viper Ouyang had been keeping a large rock by the doorway, which he used to secure the hut every night, for, if Guo Jing tried to move it out of the way, he was bound to make enough noise to wake the Venom from his dreams. It sounded like Zhou Botong had shifted the rock and propped it against the closed door.
“Oi, stinker, where are you?” Zhou Botong called, groping around in the pitch-dark room.
Guo Jing was about to point out where the man was hiding when a merry chortle rang out, then the scrambling of feet was followed by a whoosh, as grabbing hands parted the air. Zhou Botong had kn
own all along that his playmate had leaped onto the roof beams; he had merely put on an act of fumbling around to lower the fellow’s guard so he could mount a surprise assault.
The man on the rafters was truly agile. He flipped down in a somersault and crouched low in the north side of the room before Zhou Botong’s fingers could reach him.
Muttering silly nothings to himself, the Hoary Urchin did not seem at all bothered that he had missed, though his movements were more cautious and considered than before. He listened intently, trying to determine the location of his prey. To his surprise, he heard three pairs of lungs at work, and recalled the light being put out as they approached the hut. Perhaps the people living here were too scared to reveal themselves? To reassure them, he yelled:
“Fret not, good folk. I’m here to catch a vagabond. I’ll be out of your way as soon as I’m done.”
Despite his jovial tone, Zhou Botong was paying close attention to the quiet murmur of the others’ breathing. When it came to a martial man with advanced neigong skills, each breath was gentle but controlled, and, though each draw of air was effortless, it reached deep into the body. In comparison, an ordinary person’s respiration sounded almost like a gasp—short, shallow and hoarse.
Zhou Botong noted the low, steady, measured exchange of air, coming from the east, the west and the north. Could there be two other kung fu masters in this tiny hut?
“You little cheat! You’ve placed your henchmen here!”
Guo Jing wanted to make himself known, but, when he considered how skilled the man being hunted was, he decided against it, mindful that the Venom was also skulking around. I’ll keep quiet, for now, and offer help when Brother Zhou needs me, he said to himself.
The instant Zhou Botong detected the presence of other martial masters in the hut, he knew the situation was not to his advantage and started to tiptoe toward the door. “The hunter is now the hunted,” he sighed.
Just then, war whoops and the thumping of hooves filled the air, like the surging high tide on mid-autumn night. Tens of thousands of soldiers, charging in the direction of the village.
“More of your lackeys? Pardon the Urchin for quitting our game—for now.”
Zhou Botong picked up the rock that was blocking the door. But when everybody was expecting him to toss it aside and escape outside, the unpredictable man swirled around, lifting the stone higher with both hands, and hurled it toward the northern end of the hut.
By noting the path of the bluster whipped up by the flying rock, Viper Ouyang was able to determine the Hoary Urchin’s precise position and deduce that he had left his right flank vulnerable. If he eliminated Zhou Botong now, he would not have to worry about the capricious Master joining forces with Guo Jing, and he could also rid himself a formidable rival before the Contest of Mount Hua. With that thought, Viper crouched low and thrust out both hands, sending a violent burst of Exploding Toad energy into Zhou Botong.
Though it was pitch black, Guo Jing recognized the whoosh of the wind accompanying the Venom’s signature kung fu and knew that it was whipping into his sworn brother. Without a moment’s hesitation, he lunged, letting fly with a Haughty Dragon Repents.
The man pursued by Zhou Botong had assumed the horse-riding stance the instant he sensed the rock hurtling toward him. Feet apart and knees bent, he flipped his palms out and thrust, and a potent stream of energy sent the heavy projectile flying back at his foe.
Although the four martial men had all launched their moves at slightly different times, their inner strength was more or less equal. Struck by these opposing forces, the rock crashed down onto a table in the middle of the room, smashing it into pieces.
The deafening boom amused Zhou Botong, and he squealed in laughter, only to find that he was unable to hear his own voice. A storm of screeching horses, clanging weapons and yelling soldiers had descended on the village. Guo Jing could make out from the clamor that a Khwarazmian unit in retreat was trying to use the settlement to make a last stand, but the Mongolian cavalry had caught up with them before they could position themselves. Iron-shod hooves made the earth tremble. Banners flapped audibly in the wind. Rallying calls and battle cries rang out against the thick hum of arrows in flight. The clash of metal on metal and the sound of sharp spearheads tearing flesh. But it was impossible to tell from the din just how many men were fighting around the stone hut.
3
The door flew open and a soldier burst in. Zhou Botong grabbed the man, flung him out, slammed the door shut and blocked it with the rock again, in one fluid movement.
Viper Ouyang decided there was no point remaining silent now that his failed attack had revealed his presence. “Hoary Urchin!”
Zhou Botong caught the muffled voice, but could not tell what was being said above the chaos outside, so he held his left palm close in a protective stance and groped for whoever had spoken with his other hand. Sensing the shift in the air, Viper shot his right arm out, hooked his fingers around Zhou Botong’s wrist, and swung his knuckles in a backhanded slap with his left.
“Old Venom! You’re here too!” Zhou Botong blocked the blow, swaying a little from the impact. He then swerved left to better position himself against his opponent, but this movement opened his back to the martial Master he had been stalking, who took his chance to launch a palm thrust from his hiding place. Zhou Botong threw his left fist backward in retaliation as he fended off Viper Ouyang with his right hand. He was in a buoyant mood. This was the first time since he had dreamed up the Competing Hands technique on Peach Blossom Island that he had found himself pitted against two top martial Masters at the same time. At last, he could test his creation’s potency.
Just as his fist connected with his attacker’s hand, Zhou Botong sensed someone rushing toward him from the east, someone who pushed his opponent’s follow-up aside, absorbing the force of the strike.
“Brother Guo!”
“Guo Jing!”
“Qiu Qianren!”
The names were called out at the same time.
* * *
DURING THE battle at the Tower of Mist and Rain, when Viper Ouyang set his serpents on Guo Jing, the Quanzhen Immortals and their allies, Zhou Botong, who was petrified of snakes, clambered up onto the Tower’s roof to avoid the creatures, refusing to come down even when he came under fire from hundreds of Song and Jin archers. Tired of warding off the downpour of arrows by hand, he lay down flat and covered himself with roof tiles. He made it through the night without getting shot or bitten, but, by the time the sun had risen and the fog had dispelled, he was alone—snakes, soldiers and his martial nephews, all gone.
Bored and with nothing in particular to do, Zhou Botong wandered aimlessly for several months, until he was accosted by a member of the Beggar Clan, who handed him a letter. Lotus had written to remind him that he had promised to do anything she asked of him, and she would like him to take the life of Qiu Qianren, leader of the Iron Palm Gang. She explained that there was a deep enmity between this man and Consort Liu of King Duan’s court. If he succeeded in his mission, Lotus promised that he would no longer be hunted by that woman. If he failed, Consort Liu would seek him out to claim his hand in marriage, even if he fled to the sky’s edge and the sea’s end. Lotus concluded the letter with detailed directions to Iron Palm Mountain.
Zhou Botong had a vague recollection of running and yelling the words, “I’ll do anything you ask of me…” the last time he had seen Lotus. Besides, Qiu Qianren had been colluding with the Jin Empire, and was a therefore a traitor to his country, so he saw no harm in doing away with him. He thought of his ill-fated dalliance with Consort Liu and how it had haunted him all these years. He knew he owed her a great debt and he felt he ought to do something for her. If he could resolve her feud with Qiu Qianren, and if she could free him of any further obligation, that would indeed be a most happy outcome. So, with the letter to guide him, the Urchin went straight to the home of the Iron Palm Gang.
At first, Qiu Qianren managed to hold h
is own, but, from the moment Zhou Botong brought out the Competing Hands technique, retreat was Qiu’s only option. A duel between martial masters usually concluded when one side admitted defeat, but the Hoary Urchin ignored established practice and continued to harass his opponent. When Qiu Qianren asked him to explain his relentless pursuit, the normally verbose man could only stare at him, tongue-tied, spluttering nonsense. Of course, Qiu had no way of knowing that Zhou Botong would rather lose his head than say Consort Liu’s name out loud.
And so, the contest continued. One dodged and parried, while the other doggedly gave chase, in a prolonged duel that took them farther and farther away from where they had begun. Zhou Botong’s kung fu was more accomplished than Qiu’s, but, even so, it was no mean feat to injure the leader of the Iron Palm Gang, let alone take his life.
Qiu Qianren had tried thousands of ways to give the implacable Urchin the slip, when a desperate idea came to him. Perhaps he could run to the cold and barren wilderness of the west.
Needless to say, he had misjudged Zhou Botong’s character. The instant the Urchin caught on to Qiu’s plan, he was giddy with anticipation, curious to see just how far the Iron Palm Water Glider would travel to evade him.
Before long, the two men had passed the last stronghold of the Central Plains and entered the vast desert to the west. The flat terrain offered little shelter, allowing Zhou Botong to track Qiu Qianren with ease. By now, they had come to an agreement: they would not be so unsporting as to attack while the other was sleeping, eating or relieving himself. Nonetheless, no matter what trickery Qiu Qianren attempted, the Hoary Urchin was a lingering specter, incessantly haunting his every step.