by Jin Yong
“How?”
“My belly pushes out when I breathe in and then is sucked into my back when I breathe out.”
We did the opposite, she said to herself. Perhaps this is the Taoist secret.
EACH TIME my burly rogue reached a plateau in his training, he would talk about stealing the first volume. I told him I would not mind going back to Peach Blossom Island, but, whatever we decided to do, we must first return this second volume to Shifu and Shimu.
“But we haven’t mastered the rest of the kung fu yet! We can skip those marked ‘Attainment Five Years’, ‘Attainment Seven Years’ and ‘Basics Grasped in Ten Years’. But we must first learn the martial techniques we can assimilate quickly before we go back to the island. The Nine Yin Skeleton Claw, Heartbreaker Palm and White Python Whip are said to be achievable in a short time without neigong. How’s your White Python Whip?”
“It will be another year before I can use it in combat.”
WE RUFFLED a lot of feathers learning this kung fu. It became difficult to stay in one place for long because those self-righteous dogs of the martial world would not leave us alone. They kept coming after us in groups and gangs, but that only pushed us to train harder, killing more in the process.
They called our kung fu “infernal” and gave us the name Twice Foul Dark Wind. It made us sound so horrible! We should have been called something graceful, like Peach Blossom Duet.
They claimed they had to stop us from murdering innocent people, but I knew they just wanted to lay their greedy paws on the Manual.
What we had learned from Shifu was more than enough to send these yelping dogs fleeing with their tails between their legs. But such pests just kept coming out of the woodwork, and they were growing stronger. We were finding it harder and harder to escape. We were not allowed a moment of peace for two whole years.
If I had known it would turn out like this, I would not have had anything to do with that dreadful Manual. I thought about it often, how I could have lived in peace on Peach Blossom Island. But Shifu knew about Hurricane and me. My shame would have chased us off the island eventually, and we were also worried about Tempest’s return.
It was around this time that news of Shifu’s fit of fury after we ran away with the Nine Yin Manual reached us. Zephyr and Galeforce had tried to calm him, but their words only angered him further and he broke their legs in a rage. Doldrum later suffered the same fate. Apparently, he had tried to reason with Shifu: “The two ingrates are Hurricane Chen and Cyclone Mei. They alone betrayed you, Shifu. We are loyal and devoted. There was no cause to turn your wrath on Brother Qu, Brother Lu and Brother Wu.”
“You shall be next! I spent years teaching the six of you, and all I got in return was betrayal and ingratitude. I might as well not have lived!” A swing of the wooden staff and Brother Feng’s legs were shattered too.
After our three little brothers were cast off the island, the jianghu was sizzling with cruel gossip about Shifu. They said Old Heretic Huang had truly lived up to his pernicious reputation. Such words were daggers to my heart. How I wanted to kneel before Shifu and Shimu and confess my crimes. How I wished Shifu would absolve my sins by granting me the punishment of death.
I desired nothing more than to catch a glimpse of Shifu again.
So, when Hurricane told me he wanted to go back to Peach Blossom Island, I voiced no objection. His reasoning was that the curs of the wulin would lead Shifu onto our tracks before long and our fate would be sealed. But, if we had the first volume of the Manual, we could move to Mongolia, to Tangut, somewhere tens of thousands of li west of our troubles. Somewhere so far away that no-one could find us.
I succumbed to his logic. Sooner or later, this life would no longer be mine. The thought that Shifu might be the one to take it actually gave me some comfort.
ONE DARK night, we found ourselves back on Peach Blossom Island. As we approached the main hall, Shifu’s voice reached us: “Brother Bottom, I never took your Manual. There is nothing to return!”
I had never heard Shifu stoop to personal insults!
We peered through a gap in the window. The man Shifu was shouting at wore a long beard and seemed some years older. He did not seem at all offended. In fact, he answered with a laugh. “I don’t believe you, Old Heretic. Your actions live up to your name.”
“I am called a heretic because I refuse to submit to Confucian teachings, because I don’t blindly obey the Emperor or my elders. But I live by the four social bonds of propriety, justice, integrity and honour. I said I did not take your Manual, and that is the truth. Even if I did take it, with what I already know, I have no need to stoop to learning from someone else’s martial dog farts.”
“Well, I can smell something, that’s for sure. Come, let’s spar a little. Let me see if you took a naughty sniff or not.” Chuckling, the man sprang from his seat and waited for Shifu to stand up before throwing a punch with his left hand. Shifu responded with a move from the Cascading Peach Blossom Palm.
As the blows rained down, the candles flickered. I looked over at Hurricane. He glanced back at me. We had never seen such advanced kung fu before.
The heavens were granting us the chance of a lifetime to take the Manual. This longbeard was holding Shifu back for us – we would have free access to his study! If we saw Shimu, we would not hurt or frighten her; I would kowtow to her three times to thank her, and then snatch the precious book.
I tugged Hurricane’s sleeve, but he would not move an inch. He told me later that he had been convinced one of them would use techniques from the Nine Yin Manual. Seeing the moves in action would be so much more instructive than reading about them. He was too entranced to leave and I was too scared to go alone.
The bearded man’s kung fu was like nothing we had seen. But Shifu would not attack, he just glided around as if he were on water, evading his opponent. They were now coming towards our window. The man swiped at Shifu with his left hand.
Shifu ducked.
The window flew open.
I swerved to the side, but he must have seen my hair flying.
“Cyclone!”
Pang! The man followed up with his right palm and struck Shifu on the shoulder.
Shifu’s right knee buckled. As he stumbled back, he flicked a finger against his thumb twice. The air whistled and the longbeard’s legs gave way. He rolled on the ground and could not stand up again.
“Shifu has no need of the Nine Yin Manual, Cyclone. I subdued him with the Divine Flick. What brings you here?”
I leapt up and fell on my knees in front of Shifu, tears streaming down my face. “Your disciple has done you and Shimu grievous wrong.”
“She is no longer with us. Her mourning hall . . . over there.”
I ran across the courtyard in the direction he pointed. There it was, her spirit tablet:
Here lies the spirit of my late wife, of the Feng clan.
My head spun. I could hear myself wailing. Shifu stood behind me. Then I noticed a small child of no more than two, perched on a chair. She smiled at me. She looked just like Shimu. Had she died in childbirth?
“Papa, cuddle.”
A smile bloomed like a flower on the little girl’s face. She stretched out her arms and threw herself at Shifu. He scooped her up protectively just before she toppled from the seat.
I felt Hurricane grabbing my hand and my body hurtling across the island. In no time, I sensed the spray of brine upon my face.
My heart was pounding. I was convinced that it would jump out of my mouth.
Then, Shifu’s voice, borne to our boat by the wind: “Make your own way. Meddle no more with the Nine Yin Manual! Preserve yourselves. Stay alive.”
Having witnessed Shifu’s battle with the longbeard, we were dejected. Eventually, Hurricane spoke: “Shifu’s kung fu is at least ten times more powerful than ours. That man is also far more accomplished than us.”
“Do you regret what we did?” Then I added, under my breath, “If we had stayed with Shifu, we would have
learned all that.”
“I have no regrets. And neither have you.”
After that, he worked even harder to figure out a way to train our internal strength. He kept saying that, though it was not the orthodox way, it would still get us results.
“Shifu said we mustn’t practise the kung fu from the Manual,” I reminded him.
“With his skills, obviously he has no need of it. But can we survive without it?”
So we trained and trained. We managed to master two-thirds of the Golden Bell and Iron Shirt techniques, which toughened our bodies against weapons and blows.
We were now unstoppable. Fear raged wherever Twice Foul Dark Wind blew.
WE WERE practising the Heartbreaker Palm in an abandoned temple when, suddenly, we were surrounded by kung fu masters in every direction. Zephyr Lu, our own martial brother, organised and led the attack. He blamed us for the loss of the use of his legs and he thought that, by capturing us and presenting us to Shifu, he would be allowed to return to Peach Blossom Island.
Ha! Twice Foul Dark Wind would not be caught so easily!
My loving bastard dispatched the Flying Divine Dragon, Ke Bixie the Talisman, that day. Or maybe it was I. I cannot remember. It does not matter. We slew half a dozen of Zephyr’s martial friends and got away, but I was also badly hurt.
A few months later, even the Taoist monks of the Quanzhen Sect were after us. We had far too many enemies now, we could not beat them all. The only option that remained was to leave the Central Plains. We went far, far away into the west and settled on the Mongolian steppe.
We kept practising the Nine Yin Skeleton Claw and Heartbreaker Palm, and I continued to work on the White Python Whip. Hurricane constantly reminded me that these were legendary techniques we could master in a reasonably short time, it mattered not that we did not have a foundation in neigong inner strength.
Then, out of the blue, I was ambushed on a barren hill in Mongolia.
“My eyes!”
The pain. The itching. The horrible darkness.
I gathered my qi to contain the poison. I crawled away. But I lost my sight. And my burly rogue.
Retribution. We killed Ke Bixie. We killed blind bat Ke Zhen’e’s brother. And he had brought his brethren all the way out to Mongolia to seek revenge. The Seven Freaks of the South.
CYCLONE MEI’S jaw clenched at the painful memory, her teeth cracked and her grip tensed.
Guo Jing was convinced that his wrist was about to snap. This is it, he said to himself. She’s going to kill me, now, in the most brutal way. But I’ve still got the herbs Elder Wang needs to cleanse the poison from his injury last night!
“Could you please do one thing for me,” Guo Jing began timidly, “after you have had your revenge?”
“You want my help?”
“Yes. I appeal to your kindness. Please take the herbs on my person to Elder Wang. His life depends on them. He is staying at the Peaceful Stay Inn, west of the city.”
Cyclone Mei did not answer, but she did not shake her head either.
“You will do it? Thank you – you are so kind!”
“I am not kind and I don’t want your thanks.”
CYCLONE MEI could not remember all the hardships she had already lived through in her short life. She could not recall how many people she had killed. But she could not forget that night. It was carved into her being.
EVERYTHING WAS cloaked in darkness. The stars had lost their glow.
“Little sister, I can’t look after you anymore. You must take care . . .”
These were his last words.
“What’s the point of taking care without you?” I asked as he pressed the Manual into my hand. “I’ve lost my sight. I can never read again.”
I put it inside my robe, close to my chest. It was of no use to me, but I would make sure it never fell into enemy hands. One day, I would return it to Shifu.
The heavens opened. A torrential downpour. The Freaks slashed and struck. I was hit on the back. A powerful blow. It rocked my bones.
The sky wept. The world had lost its light. Darkness became my cloak.
So I scooped up my storm and ran.
I hurtled through the rain.
My Hurricane was still warm! But, little by little, a chill took over. Like my heart, he turned to ice.
I had never felt so cold.
“Are you really gone? You were supposed to be unassailable. How did it happen? Who was it?”
Shivering, I found the dagger in his navel and pulled it out. I felt his blood gush from his wound. I know how much there must have been. I have killed many times.
“Who will call you ‘dearest filthy dog’ down there?” I asked out loud. “You won’t be alone in the underworld. I won’t allow it!”
I slipped the tip of the dagger under my tongue – my most vulnerable point – then I felt it. Words, carved into the hilt. The surname, Yang. The character meaning “vitality”. Yang Kang. His murderer. Yang Kang.
How could I die before I had taken my revenge?
My sweet bastard will be avenged!
CAN YOU hear my sigh, burly rogue?
It’s all over now.
Have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you? If you’ve found yourself some waif as wife down there, I promise you, I will haunt you for eternity . . .
I DUG a hole in the desert and buried him. Without my sight, I could not even find food to feed myself, let alone seek my revenge. Luckily, the Mongolians took pity on a poor blind woman, sharing with me their milk, meat and bread. For several years, their kindness was all that kept me from starvation.
One day, a column of men and horses passed by my cave, speaking in the Jurchen tongue. I asked them for food, and their leader took me in and brought me all the way to their capital, Zhongdu. I only realised later that I had been taken in by the Sixth Prince of the Jin Empire. He let me live in the palace and gave me a job. I became a sweeper in the inner garden, where I made an abandoned underground chamber my den. At night, I practised my martial arts in secret.
Another few years passed, the royal household still looked on me as a poor blind woman. But, one night, the naughty young Prince sneaked into my garden. He was fond of raiding birds’ nests for eggs. He saw me practising with the whip and pestered me to teach him. I showed him three moves and he mastered them immediately. He was such a joy to teach, so before long I showed him the Nine Yin Skeleton Claw, and Heartbreaker Palm too. I made him swear to secrecy: he must never speak about it. Not to the Prince, not to the Consort. If he made one squeak, I would put five holes in his skull with my own hand.
The little Prince had already studied some kung fu, so he was not a complete novice.
“Shifu, my other teacher is a bad man. I don’t like him. I like you!” The boy had a sweet tongue and he knew how to use it to get his way. “I’d never show him the kung fu you teach me. His skills are nothing compared to yours! The things he makes me learn are useless.”
But, from what the little Prince could do, I could tell this man was a master. And yet, I was in no place to ask questions, since I had made him promise never to reveal me.
Time stands still for no-one. A few more years had gone by and the young Prince told me his father was going back to Mongolia. I told the boy to ask if I could travel with them to visit my husband’s grave. Of course, the Prince agreed – he would never say no to his beloved son.
This was my chance to find the Seven Freaks of the South, to make them pay for what they did to me. Yet, fortune did not smile on me – the Seven Immortals of the Quanzhen Sect were in Mongolia too! One blind woman could not fight seven masters on her own.
Their internal kung fu was as formidable as their reputation. Scarlet Sun Ma Yu sent his voice across great distances with so little effort.
And yet, it was not a wasted trip. I tricked the Taoist into explaining a secret of their neigong training. And I worked hard when I got back . . .
But, without guidance, it was impossible to culti
vate my internal energy. Two days ago, as I willed my qi around my body, my internal life force passed the Long Strong pressure point at the bottom of my spine and got trapped. Nothing I have tried since could make it circulate back, and I have lost all movement in the lower half of my body.
IF THIS boy had not stumbled in, I would have starved to death because I have never allowed the young Prince to visit me. My Hurricane led him here. To rescue me and to avenge him!
Cyclone Mei cackled wildly at the thought, causing her whole person to convulse and release a mighty burst of internal strength through the fingertips still clutching Guo Jing’s windpipe.
Guo Jing forced his hands under her wrist and pushed back with every last drop of energy inside him. Having practised orthodox neigong for some years under Ma Yu’s instruction, his internal strength was not inconsiderable.
Such impressive kung fu!
Cyclone Mei had to give the young man credit. Not many could have made her grip slip. She made three quick strikes and he managed to divert her talons each time with the force of his palm.
She drew her arm upwards, shrieked, and slapped it down onto the top of Guo Jing’s head. The most lethal move of the Heartbreaker Palm repertoire.
Guo Jing’s left hand was still trapped between Mei’s claws, so he channelled all his power to his right arm and blocked. He knew it was hopeless, but he had to try. Pain shot down his arm at contact. Then, to his surprise, nothing happened. Had she changed her mind?
Cyclone Mei had remembered at the last moment that Guo Jing was taught by the Taoist Ma Yu, and pulled back.
I am unable to walk now because I have no-one to guide me in my neigong training. But he learned it from the source – he can help me. I must avenge my sweet bastard, I must not forget! Luckily, I have not killed him yet.
Annoyed with herself, she grabbed Guo Jing by the throat once more.
“You killed my husband and I’ll kill you with this hand. But, if you behave, I’ll grant you a quick death. If you play games, I’ll make sure you suffer every conceivable pain this world has to offer. I’ll start by chewing your fingers off, one by one – and I will do so slowly.”