A Heart Divided

by Jin Yong

  “We will defeat the Jin on this campaign,” Genghis Khan declared, taking three silk pouches from the inside pocket of his robe. “Take these and keep them safe on your person. After you’ve taken Daliang, the three of you are to meet at the Golden Chime Hall in the Jin Emperor’s palace and open the pouches together. Then you must act according to the plans you find inside.”

  Guo Jing took the silk pouch, noting that the wax seal bore the Great Khan’s insignia.

  “You must not open them before you enter Daliang, and you are to check each other’s pouches, to make sure the seal has not been tampered with, before you look at their contents.”

  The three young men bowed and said in one voice, “We shall obey the Great Khan’s orders.”

  Genghis Khan turned to Guo Jing again. “Now, tell me how you manage to be so adept at marshalling troops, when you’re so muddle-headed when it comes to everything else.”

  Guo Jing explained how he had studied every word of The Secret to Defeating the Jin on the long road to Samarkand. He then recounted Yue Fei’s story at Genghis Khan’s bidding, telling him how this patriotic General of the Song Empire had defeated the Jin forces in a decisive battle near the town of Zhuxian, and how his reputation on the battlefield had inspired such fear in the Jin soldiers that they referred to him as “Grand Lord Yue.” He also told the conqueror that the legend of Yue Fei’s military prowess was so rooted in the Chinese people’s imagination that the saying “It is easier to crush a mountain than the Yue Family Army” was still in use.

  Genghis Khan paced silently as he listened to Guo Jing, his hands clasped behind his back. “I wish I were born a hundred years earlier, so I could have met this hero on the field. Is there any adversary alive today that I can call an equal?” The conqueror heaved a lonely sigh.

  5

  Guo Jing left the golden ger and went to look for his mother Lily Li. He had been busy with the army and had not seen her of late, but, since he was due to set off for the South the next day, he wanted to spend at least a little time with her. He entered his mother’s ger, only to find it empty, her clothes and belongings nowhere to be seen. He asked the old soldier keeping watch, and learned that she had moved to a different tent at the Great Khan’s command.

  When he reached her new home, he found a ger several times larger than the one he had just left. He parted the flies and was dazzled by the gilded and bejeweled decorations, for the colorful interior was filled with treasures plundered from the recent campaign.

  Princess Khojin was sitting with Lily Li, who was sharing stories from Guo Jing’s childhood. When she saw Guo Jing enter the tent, she stood up and greeted him with a shy smile.

  “Ma, where do all these things come from?”

  “The Great Khan said you earned him a great victory and they are your reward. I don’t know what to do with them. We have always lived simply.”

  Guo Jing nodded at his mother’s words as he noticed eight new serving maids in the ger—they must be slaves captured during the conquest.

  Khojin stayed to chat for a short while before taking her leave. She imagined that Guo Jing must have many things to say to her before his departure and that he would soon come after her, but, though she waited and waited, he did not leave the ger.

  Lily Li also found it odd that her son did not follow Khojin. “The Princess is waiting for you. Go and talk to her.”

  He mumbled a reply, but made no move to leave.

  Sensing his indecision, she sighed. “I hope you will succeed in vanquishing the Jin. We’ve lived here in the north for twenty years, and, though the Great Khan has been very kind to us, I do miss my true home. When this campaign is over, we can return to Ox Village and live in your papa’s house. I know you don’t care for wealth or rank, so we don’t need to come back here. The only thing that troubles me is the Princess. I don’t know what would be best…”

  “I’ve told Khojin everything. Lotus is dead, and I can never marry.”

  “The Princess may be understanding, but I’m worried about the Great Khan.”

  “What about him?”

  “He has been exceptionally generous over the last few days, showering us with gold, silver and gems—more gifts than I can count. He says they’re a reward for your contribution on the battlefield, but, having lived in his camp all these years, I’d like to think I’m familiar with his disposition. I sense an ulterior motive.”

  “What do you mean, Ma?”

  “I’m a simple country woman and my world is very different from his … but he may be trying to coerce you into doing something.”

  “He wants to make me marry Khojin.”

  “I don’t think the Great Khan knows you are against the match, so why would he pressure you? I suspect it has something to do with the campaign against the Jin. I think he fears you may turn against him.”

  “Why would I do that?” Guo Jing shook his head, unable to follow his mother’s line of reasoning. “He knows I don’t desire riches or power.”

  “Tell him I’m homesick and I’d like to go south with you tomorrow. We may be able to gauge his intentions from his response.”

  “Why didn’t you say so earlier, Ma? I’d love to take you back to your home, and I’m sure the Great Khan will grant us permission.”

  Guo Jing rushed out of the ger, expecting to find Khojin waiting outside, but she was nowhere to be seen. Assuming that she had got bored of waiting, he headed for Genghis Khan’s tent, but he returned soon afterward, utterly crestfallen.

  “The Great Khan said no, didn’t he?”

  “I don’t understand. Why does he want you to stay here?” Guo Jing waited for his mother’s reply, but none came, so he went on. “First, he said, ‘Wouldn’t it be a fine thing to take your mother south in honor, after we’ve conquered the Jin?’ So I told him you miss home very much and want to go back as soon as possible. Suddenly, he grew angry and kept shaking his head, refusing to hear any more on the matter.”

  Lily Li pondered this for a moment. “Tell me everything he’s said to you today.”

  Guo Jing outlined the conversation in the golden ger earlier, telling her how they had discussed the invasion strategy and how Genghis Khan had given them the silk pouches.

  “How I wish your second shifu or Lotus were still with us. They would figure out what’s afoot. Something is making me uneasy, but I’m just a foolish old woman, I can’t put my finger on it.”

  Guo Jing took out the pouch and turned it over in his hand. “The Great Khan did have an odd look on his face when he handed me this, but I doubt it has anything to do with him refusing to let you go south with me.”

  Lily Li examined the fabric, then dismissed her maidservants. “Let’s see what’s inside.”

  “We can’t! It’s a capital crime to break the seal!”

  She looked at her son with a chuckle. “Have you forgotten that your ma is from Lin’an? Our city is known for producing the best silk brocade under the heavens. I can pick the fabric apart and darn it back together without leaving any trace—it’s a skill I learned as a child. We don’t have to break the seal.”

  Guo Jing watched as his mother separated each strand of silk with a fine needle to make an opening and removed the paper inside. She unfolded the note and showed it to him, her eyes locked on his. They had yet to read it, but they could already feel their blood growing cold.

  It was a command from Genghis Khan, instructing Ogedai, Tolui and Guo Jing to hasten south with their armies to capture their next target: Lin’an. With the fall of the Song capital, Mongolia would have conquered all the known kingdoms under the heavens. If Guo Jing were instrumental in this conquest, the note promised, he would be named the Prince of the Song under the Great Mongolian Empire, and he would rule the current Song territory from Lin’an. If Guo Jing were to turn traitor, by defying orders or deserting his troops, Ogedai and Tolui had the authority to have him beheaded and his mother would be sentenced to death by flaying. The message was written in the new Mongo
lian script, which Guo Jing had learned to read.

  Guo Jing relayed the note’s content and a heavy silence filled the ger.

  “Ma, if we hadn’t seen this…” His voice faltered. He dreaded to think what would have happened, but, when he spoke again, he sounded confident and certain. “I am a subject of the Great Song Empire. I cannot betray my country.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Head south. Tonight. It will be a tough journey, Ma.”

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Go and get ready. Be careful—don’t let anyone get wind of our plan.”

  Guo Jing returned to his ger, took off the rich robes of a Noyan commander and changed into an ordinary fur coat. He packed a few changes of clothes, leaving behind the valuables bestowed on him by Genghis Khan, including the golden dagger crowned with a tiger’s head, from which his title Prince of the Golden Blade was derived. He then selected eight horses, in addition to Ulaan, for the journey, so they could switch mounts at regular intervals to maintain a swift pace and shake off any pursuing forces. On his way back, he passed by his mother’s old ger and was struck by a pang of sorrow—he could never again set foot in the land of his childhood.

  It was almost dark when Guo Jing arrived at his mother’s new ger, and the scene he found inside made his heart leap into his throat. Clothes and personal belongings were strewn over the floor. His mother was nowhere to be seen and his calls went unanswered. A sense of dread rose in Guo Jing. He rushed out of the tent, only to be dazzled by countless torches.

  “The Great Khan summons the Prince of the Golden Blade!” Guo Jing recognized Tchila’un’s voice immediately.

  Now that his eyes had adjusted to the torchlight, he saw a battalion of soldiers lined up behind Genghis Khan’s most trusted general, each carrying a long spear. He appraised the situation with apprehension. His kung fu should allow him to break through, but how could he flee on his own when his mother had been taken by the Great Khan? And so he followed Tchila’un to the golden ger, which was protected by rows and rows of archers and guards armed with halberds.

  “The Great Khan insists that you be restrained,” Tchila’un added. “Please do not take offense, my Prince.”

  Guo Jing nodded and crossed his wrists behind his back. Once he was bound, he strode inside.

  Dozens of giant tallow candles burned brilliantly, making the interior as bright as day. The moment Genghis Khan saw Guo Jing, he smacked the desk before him and roared, “I raised you and gave you my daughter. How dare you betray me!”

  Guo Jing saw the open pouch and knew there was no denying his crime. Standing tall, he said, “I am a subject of the Great Song Empire. How could I follow your command and attack my own people?”

  Incensed by his defiant stance, the conqueror bellowed, “Take him out and cut off his head!”

  Guo Jing knew that, even with his martial knowledge, physical resistance was futile, since his hands were bound by thick ropes and he was watched over by eight executioners armed with sabers. “You made a pact with the Song to attack the Jin together, and now you’re planning to renege on your word and break faith with an ally. Is that the behavior of a hero?”

  Angered by Guo Jing’s words, Genghis Khan kicked over his golden desk. “The alliance is over as soon as we crush the Jin. We can then take the Song without breaking our promise. Off with his head!”

  Although the generals were on good terms with Guo Jing, they were too intimidated by the Great Khan to speak up for the young man. Guo Jing started to make his way outside, without waiting for the guards to manhandle him.

  “Stop!” Tolui was galloping over, dressed only in leather trousers, his naked torso exposed to the night air—he must have been in bed when the news reached him.

  “Father!” Tolui pleaded as he stormed into the golden ger. “My anda Guo Jing won a great victory for us. He has also saved your life and mine, over the years. He may have committed a capital crime, but we cannot behead him.”

  This reminder softened the conqueror’s resolve somewhat. “Bring him back!” he barked, and Guo Jing was escorted into the tent again.

  Genghis Khan eyed the defiant young man. “What good is holding the Song Empire close to your heart? You’ve told me the story of General Yue Fei. For all his loyalty, he ended up being executed by his own countrymen. If you subjugate the Song for me, I give you my word—with everyone here before us as witness—I shall name you the Prince of the Song and make you the ruler of all territory belonging to the kingdom. You are of the South, and, as the overlord of the South, you will treat your own people well. You won’t be betraying your country or your blood by serving me.”

  “I dare not defy the Great Khan’s orders, but, if you want me to attack my homeland, you can cut me with a thousand sabers and shoot me with ten thousand arrows, and still I will refuse.”

  “Bring his mother!”

  At Genghis Khan’s command, Lily Li was led from the rear of the tent by two guards.

  “Ma!” Guo Jing managed two steps toward his mother before his path was blocked by sabers. For the first time, he wondered how they were found out, for there had been no one else in the ger when they made their plans.

  “If you do as I say, you and your mother will enjoy prestige and honor. Otherwise, a saber will fall and she’ll be cut in two—because of your choice—and you, her son, will be the cause of her death.”

  Genghis Khan’s threat shook Guo Jing to the core. Staring at his feet, the young man tried to work out the right course of action. Then Tolui spoke again.

  “Anda, you were born and grew up here in Mongolia. You are just like every other Mongolian. Your father was murdered because corrupt Song officials conspired with the Jurchens. It was they who made your mother homeless. If Father hadn’t taken you in, would you be standing here today? You cannot be the cause of your mother’s death. I urge you to think again. Accept the Great Khan’s command, and you can make sure the people of the Song are treated well and have a chance to live in peace again.”

  The words of agreement were on the tip of Guo Jing’s tongue, but, as he looked into his mother’s eyes, the principles she had instilled in him flashed through his mind, followed by the scenes of carnage and destruction the Mongolians had left in their wake as they conquered the nations of the Western Regions. He did not know what choice he should make.

  Genghis Khan fixed Guo Jing with tiger-like eyes, waiting for him to speak. The hundred or so gathered in the golden ger were also watching the young man with bated breath.

  Guo Jing took a step forward and stammered, “I—I…” and then nothing else followed.

  “Great Khan.” It was Lily Li who spoke. “May I speak with my son? I think he is struggling to wrap his head around the matter.”

  “By all means!” Genghis Khan was delighted.

  Lily Li made her way over to Guo Jing, took him by the arm, and together they sat down in a quiet corner of the golden ger. She pressed him close to her and said softly, “Twenty years ago, there was a blizzard in Ox Village in Lin’an. You were in my belly then. That day, your father met Reverend Qiu Chuji, and he gave us two daggers—one for your father, and one for your uncle Yang.” She reached into the inside pocket of his robe, took out the blade and pointed at the two characters carved into its hilt. “Reverend Qiu named you Guo Jing, and Uncle Yang’s son Yang Kang. Do you know why?”

  “He wanted us to always remember the humiliation of the year Jingkang, when our capital Kaifeng was sacked by the Jurchens.”

  “That’s right. It’s a cruel shame Yang Kang grew up to call the Jin Prince his father. He brought ruin unto himself and tainted Uncle Yang’s reputation as a hero and a patriot.” She heaved a sigh. “Why do you think I put up with the bitter cold of these northern lands to bring you up? Do you think I endured disgrace and hardship to raise a traitor, so you can break your father’s heart in the Yellow Spring below?”

  “Ma!” Tears ran down Guo Jing’s face.

  Genghis Khan, Tolui a
nd the generals did not understand Chinese, so they had no idea what Lily Li had said, but, judging from Guo Jing’s reaction, they assumed, to their relief, that she had persuaded him to save her life.

  “A lifetime passes in the twinkling of an eye,” she went on. “It is a trifling matter how long we live or when we die. As long as we have no cause to rue our behavior or our deeds, then we have made a worthy journey through the world. If people disappoint us or let us down, dwell not on what they have done wrong. Remember what I have taught you.”

  Lily Li gazed tenderly into Guo Jing’s eyes. “Son, take good care of yourself.” She slipped the dagger behind Guo Jing’s back, cut the ropes around his wrists, and then twisted it round, plunging its point into her own breast. She performed this series of actions with such swift determination that, by the time Guo Jing could move to stop her, the keen blade was buried in her flesh, all the way to the hilt.

  “Seize him!” Genghis Khan shouted.

  The eight executioners guarding Guo Jing cast their weapons aside and pounced on the young man barehanded. They were afraid of accidentally hurting the Prince of the Golden Blade as they tried to restrain him.

  Overwhelmed with grief, Guo Jing clasped his mother to his bosom and swept his right foot at his assailants. Two were sent flying. He thrust his left elbow back, cracking it into another’s chest. With a roar, the generals in the ger joined the tussle, launching themselves at Guo Jing. He stepped aside, grabbed the fabric of the tent and yanked. Half the ger collapsed in an instant, trapping everyone inside. All except Guo Jing, who fled into the night with his mother’s body.

  * * *

  “MA!” GUO Jing cried again and again, but he received no answer. He held a finger under her nose and there was no movement of air.

  A bugle sounded the call to arms. Soon, the camp was a boiling mass of shouting men and snorting horses. Torches flickered into life like so many stars. Guo Jing ran without thinking where he was headed, and, before long, he found himself surrounded. Despite his extraordinary kung fu, he was one man against an army of more than a hundred thousand. If he had Ulaan with him, he might have had a chance of breaking free, but, on foot and laden with his mother’s lifeless form, he had no hope.