by Jin Yong
For Zhou Botong, his mission to kill Qiu Qianren had turned into an elaborate game of wits and strength, and the chase had become so diverting that, although he had his quarry cornered several times, he could not bring himself to take the man’s life, for he knew how rare it was to encounter such an accomplished opponent. And that was how, by sheer coincidence, the pair found themselves in the stone hut where Guo Jing and Viper Ouyang had taken residence.
* * *
CORRALLED TOGETHER in a pitch-black room no more than two zhang square, the four men were not just robbed of their sight, for the battle raging outside now overwhelmed their hearing. Although Guo Jing, Zhou Botong and Qiu Qianren had cried out each others’ names when they recognized each others’ kung fu, they were unable to make out what was being said. All Viper Ouyang knew for sure was that the man who had come in first was Zhou Botong’s foe, whereas Qiu Qianren was under the impression that the two Masters they had barged in on were in league.
When Guo Jing identified the fourth man in the room as Qiu Qianren, he paused, considering his next move, aware that his martial abilities still lagged behind those of the other three. Now that Zhou Botong was here, Guo Jing knew that together they would have a good chance of dispatching Viper Ouyang once and for all, and decided that he would keep the Venom occupied so his sworn brother could deal with Qiu Qianren first.
With this plan in mind, Guo Jing sent both palms slicing into the darkness, masking firm strikes as feints. His right struck empty air, but his left was met by an opposing hand. He instantly knew it belonged to Zhou Botong—after all, they had sparred countless times on Peach Blossom Island. Guo Jing was about to clasp his sworn brother’s arm to make himself known, when the hand that had blocked his attack jerked back. In that same moment, a right-handed jab stabbed at his shoulder. The blow contained no inner strength, but still, a dull ache throbbed at the point of impact.
Of course, Zhou Botong knew full well that he had just struck Guo Jing, but he could not resist the call of his impish nature, following up with a thrust of his left palm.
“Brother Guo, are you testing my kung fu? Here comes the next move!” His words failed to reach his sworn brother’s ears, drowned out by the warring armies outside.
Having been caught unawares once, Guo Jing was on his guard this time, and warded off Zhou Botong’s hand with a flourish of his arm. Within moments, a dozen moves had been exchanged. Much impressed by the advancement of his little brother’s martial skills over the past year, Zhou Botong chuckled in admiration. “Where did you learn this amazing kung fu?”
But how could Guo Jing hear him over the fierce battle outside?
“Fine! Keep your secret! What do I care?” Just as he was throwing this little tantrum, Zhou Botong sensed a rush of air at his back. “You can deal with those two on your own!” he said, and he hopped up onto the rafters with a tap of his foot.
While the two sworn brothers were brawling, Viper Ouyang and Qiu Qianren had traded enough moves to be able to identify each other by them. The two men had no quarrel, but they knew they would be competing for the title of Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens at the upcoming Contest of Mount Hua, and the same thought flashed through their minds: If I can injure him now, I’ll have one opponent less to contend with.
Spurred on by that conclusion, the two martial Masters threw themselves at each other without holding back, but they were soon distracted by tussling blasts of neigong power. They were both familiar with the Hoary Urchin’s whimsical ways, so neither was at all surprised when he turned on Guo Jing. Indeed, they were secretly pleased to be gifted a chance to ambush Zhou Botong while he was otherwise occupied.
Just as the two men turned their attention to their new target, they sensed a soft, momentary flurry overhead and deduced that it was the wake left by Zhou Botong’s flowing sleeves as he leaped up onto the roof beams, leaving his sworn brother to deal with two martial Masters alone.
Extricating himself from Zhou Botong’s nonsense had been a trying task for Guo Jing; he had switched between four or five martial repertoires without any luck. Just as he thought he was finally free of the Urchin’s attentions and could catch his breath, he realized with a groan that he now had to face two supreme Masters at the peak of their martial learning, when just one of them was more than he could handle. He pulled himself together and made a stand using the Competing Hands technique, holding the Venom back with this left arm and fending off the leader of the Iron Palm Gang with his right.
Zhou Botong was letting his imagination run away with him, following the commotion below through movements of the air, when it suddenly occurred to him that Guo Jing could get hurt. He scurried along the rafters to the far end of the hut, slid down the wall, and groped wildly at the darkness with both hands. His fingertips made contact with someone’s back.
“Hmm … He’s crouching…” Zhou Botong muttered to himself. Must be the Venom!
Viper Ouyang had expected Guo Jing to quickly crumble under the joint assault, but the boy had somehow managed to hold his own, which forced the Martial Great to resort once more to his Exploding Toad kung fu. Just as he was gathering his inner strength for the attack, Viper sensed someone behind him and swept his arm back to defend himself.
Guo Jing felt the pressure ease on one side and seized the chance to put Qiu Qianren on the defensive. Carving out some breathing space with a few swift palm strikes, he then retreated into a corner of the room, thankful for Zhou Botong’s timely intervention. He would not have been able to deflect Viper’s signature kung fu.
The melee grew ever more intense in the deafening darkness. One moment, Qiu Qianren would find himself staving off Zhou Botong; the next, he would be up against Guo Jing or Viper Ouyang.
The Hoary Urchin scrimmaged around in high spirits, throwing punches and palm strikes indiscriminately at anyone within reach. The brawl was more exhilarating than any fight he had experienced in his life.
Keen to add to the fun, he decided to hound Guo Jing again. “Let’s play a new game, Brother. You against the four of us! So, now your opponents are my two hands, the smelly Old Toad and the Iron Palm stinker!”
It goes without saying that Guo Jing did not catch a word of what Zhou Botong was saying above the noise of the battle surrounding them. All he knew was that three martial Masters were attacking him at the same time, and there was nothing he could do but dodge the onslaught as best he could.
“Fret not, fret not! I’ll come to your aid when you’re in danger,” Zhou Botong cried cheerfully to encouraged his little brother. But, in a scuffle this volatile, involving such skilled martial artists who could only discern each other’s movements through changes in the air, a stray foot or fist was liable to be lethal, and no help could come fast enough.
Guo Jing was exhausted. He had beaten back another few dozen moves, but now Viper Ouyang and Qiu Qianren were starting to channel more and more of their deep reserves of neigong power into their strikes. The young man scampered to and fro as he repelled the incessant barrage, hoping to find an opportunity to hop up onto the rafters for a brief respite, and yet Zhou Botong had him trapped within a force field of palm thrusts.
“Brother Zhou! What’s wrong with you? Why do you keep attacking me?” Guo Jing hissed, but his voice could not compete with the racket of the warring soldiers outside.
He scuttled back a few steps and tripped over the rock, which was lying in the wreckage of the table. Crashing to the floor, he managed to vault back onto his feet, but, before he could straighten up, he sensed a rush of air coming his way. Qiu Qianren’s Iron Palm kung fu. The young man twisted round and grabbed the rock, lifting it over his chest. The instant Qiu Qianren’s hand struck its surface, Guo Jing channeled all the inner strength pooled in his arms and thrust outward, meeting Qiu’s power head-on through the stone.
But now Guo Jing could sense the air parting to his left. He let out a roar, directed yet more energy to his arms, and hurled the stone upward. Then he swerved to the s
ide, only just evading Viper Ouyang’s vicious palm strike.
The rock smashed through the roof, bringing down a torrent of tiles and rubble. The faint glow of starlight entered the small hut.
Zhou Botong scowled. “Ugh! What fun is it now we can see?”
4
Bone-weary, Guo Jing stamped his feet, sprung up with what little strength he still possessed, and left the hut through the hole in the roof. Viper Ouyang immediately prepared to leap after him in pursuit, but a hand closed around his left shin just as he took off.
“Don’t go! Stay and play with me!” Zhou Botong wailed.
Viper kicked out with his right foot and the grip loosened, but he had lost his momentum and could not prevent himself from being drawn back down to the floor.
Seizing a chance to attack Viper at his most vulnerable, Qiu Qianren aimed a kick at the Martial Great’s heart. Viper hunched his back and tucked in his chest, jabbing his index finger at his attacker’s ankle as he did so.
A three-way scrap broke out. There was now enough light to discern shapes in the dark, and the fighting in the village was no longer as fierce as before. For the Hoary Urchin, deprived of the thrills of fighting deaf and blind, the melee had lost all its appeal. He adopted a more ferocious kung fu style and took out his disappointment on Viper Ouyang and Qiu Qianren, lashing out in a series of lethal assaults.
Guo Jing sprinted through battling soldiers and cavalrymen charging around on their steeds, desperate to leave behind the ringing of clashing steel and the blood-curdling screams as metal ripped through flesh, not stopping until he found himself in a grove some distance from the village. His body was gripped by muscle-splitting pains after the exertions of the night. He lay on the ground, hoping that his sworn brother had the skills to get himself out of trouble, and soon drifted into a deep sleep.
* * *
GUO JING was woken by a strange sensation. Something soft, warm and a little moist had settled on his cheek. Was he being licked? A joyous whinnying greeted him as he opened his eyes. He jumped to his feet and threw his arms around Ulaan, who nuzzled him affectionately. Both man and horse were thrilled to be reunited after their long separation. Ulaan had been grazing in the grasslands surrounding the village while Guo Jing was being held hostage by Viper Ouyang, and had only wandered further afield to avoid the clash between the two armies.
The deserted settlement was now full of broken bows and snapped arrows, dying soldiers groaning in agony, and the corpses of horses and men who were past all suffering. Guo Jing had seen his share of gory deaths on the battlefield, but, as he led Ulaan through the carnage, he thought of Lotus, lost forever to this wilderness, and his heart filled with pain. He picked his way back to the stone hut, careful not to make a sound. He could hear no voices coming from inside, so he peered in through the gap between the door and the jamb. The hut was empty. He searched the small structure inside and out, but Zhou Botong, Viper Ouyang and Qiu Qianren were long gone, and there was nothing to indicate which direction they had taken.
Guo Jing stood in a daze for a time, then mounted Ulaan and galloped east to catch up with Genghis Khan’s army.
* * *
BY NOW, the great cities of Khwarazm had either surrendered or been taken by the Mongolians, and the country’s army of several hundred thousand had been routed. The majority of Shah Muhammad’s followers had abandoned the haughty and brutal monarch, and only a small and pitiful band remained to escort him as he fled west. Genghis Khan ordered Subotai and Jebe to lead two divisions of ten thousand men to pursue the unseated ruler, while he brought the main army home in triumph.
Subotai and Jebe hunted the Shah beyond Moscow, as far as Kiev, on the River Dnieper, where they annihilated the allied forces of the Rus and the Cumans. The captured Grand Prince of Kiev was crushed to death along with eleven Russian princes. After this decisive defeat, known to history as the Battle of the Kalka River, a significant portion of the grasslands of the Rus groaned for years under the iron hooves of the Mongolian cavalry. Shah Muhammad lived out his days in flight, until he succumbed to illness on an island in the Caspian Sea.
* * *
GENGHIS KHAN had feared the worst when he heard Guo Jing had gone missing the day after they took Samarkand—for a lone man had little chance against an army, however broken and demoralized it may be. The young man’s safe return was a great relief, and, needless to say, Khojin was ecstatic too.
Qiu Chuji traveled by Genghis Khan’s side throughout the army’s return journey, urging the conqueror again and again to show mercy. This line of conversation did not please the Great Khan, but he respected Qiu Chuji as a wise and enlightened man, and tried to abide by the Taoist’s advice. As a result, countless lives were saved.
The march home was long, and when at last the army arrived on the banks of the Onon River, having traveled the tens of thousands of li that lay between Khwarazm and Mongolia, a great feast was held to celebrate the victory. And, the following day, Qiu Chuji, Surefoot Lu and the Beggar Clan members said their goodbyes and went south, back to the Central Plains.
Guo Jing had been inconsolable since Lotus’s disappearance. He often went on long solitary rides with Ulaan and the condors, wandering the grasslands in a stupor, not speaking to anybody for days at a time. Khojin tried to offer him words of comfort, but he did not seem to hear them at all.
Months passed. The harsh autumn wind blew across the steppes again. The army had rested well over the summer, and Genghis Khan turned his mind once more to the South, summoning his generals to the golden ger to discuss strategy. The conqueror was too preoccupied by the conquest of the Jin Empire to notice Guo Jing’s mood. Even when every other general offered their thoughts on how to bring down the Jurchens, the young man’s silence did not strike him as out of the ordinary.
After the meeting, Genghis Khan rode alone to a small hillock near the camp to contemplate his next move. The following day, he gave his generals their orders: they would lead his troops along three different routes to attack the Jin. His two eldest sons, Jochi and Chagatai, were still in the west, bringing order to the newly annexed territories, so responsibility for the conquest fell on his younger sons. His heir and third son Ogedai was to lead the main army, while his fourth son Tolui and Guo Jing were to command the left and right flanks respectively.
Genghis Khan dismissed the other generals and his personal guards, so he could speak with the three commanders alone. “The Jin’s elite troops are garrisoned in Tong Pass, protected by the Qin Mountains to the south and the Yellow River to the north. It’s not a stronghold we can seize quickly or easily. You’ve heard the different strategies presented. They all show promise, but, if we attack the pass head-on, we’ll trap ourselves in a protracted siege. Seeing that we have formed an alliance with the Song Empire and seized the Jin’s main capital, Zhongdu, I believe the best approach would be to enter the Jin’s territory across the Song border at Tangzhou and Dengzhou, then make straight for their southern capital, Daliang.”
Ogedai, Tolui and Guo Jing nodded in agreement at this shrewd plan.
Genghis Khan then turned to Guo Jing with a smile. “I’ve been very impressed with the way you drill and deploy your troops. What do you think we should do after we capture Daliang?”
Guo Jing gave the matter thought. After a long silence, he shook his head. “We don’t attack the city.”
Puzzled, Ogedai and Tolui stared at Guo Jing, waiting for further explanation, but it was Genghis Khan who spoke first. “Then what do we do?” A kindly smile hovered on the conqueror’s lips.
“We attack by not attacking.”
His answer left Ogedai and Tolui even more confused.
“We attack by not attacking,” Genghis Khan repeated with a chuckle. “Very well put! Now tell your brothers what you mean.”
“I believe the Great Khan’s plan is to feign an attack on the capital to draw the Jin armies out of their strongholds, then crush them in one battle outside the city walls. The Jin Emperor
lives in Daliang, but they don’t have many soldiers stationed there. The moment they see our approach, they’ll recall the elite forces at Tong Pass to relieve them.
“In Chinese military tactics, there is a saying: ‘If an army marches day and night nonstop at double pace, journeying a hundred li to seize an advantage, it will merely result in the capture of the generals of the three main divisions. For the robust will arrive first, the weak will lag behind, and only one-tenth of the troops will reach their destination as planned.’
“Now, the distance between Tong Pass and Daliang is at least a thousand li. The relief force will be in a hurry, and they will be reluctant to stop for rest, so, by the time their men and horses get to the capital, they’ll be worn out, whereas we would have been waiting in our camp outside the city walls. This one battle will destroy the Jin’s best troops, and, with no one to defend the city, Daliang will open its gates. If we are impatient and try to place it under siege, then it is likely that we will end up trapped between the city’s own garrison and the reinforcements from Tong Pass.”
“Exactly!” Laughing, Genghis Khan applauded the young man’s insight, then unfurled a map on his desk.
It was a survey of the area surrounding Daliang, with the anticipated movements of the two armies clearly marked out. It detailed how the Mongolian cavalry could attack from behind in order to strike at the core of the Jin forces, and how they could lure the troops out of Tong Pass, round up the weary reinforcements and annihilate them under the city walls—just as Guo Jing had described.
Ogedai and Tolui looked between their father and Guo Jing in amazement, while Guo Jing himself regarded the conqueror with admiration.
I wouldn’t have come up with the strategy without The Secret to Defeating the Jin, which distills the wisdom of Chinese generals spanning several thousand years, he reflected. But, with the Great Khan, it’s his innate brilliance as a commander that leads him to the same conclusion—he doesn’t even know how to read or write.