A Bond Undone

by Jin Yong

  “This is my first trip to the Central Plains; I picked them up along the way to keep me entertained—”

  “Enough of your lies,” Lotus cut in. “Surely the women you brought provide entertainment enough.”

  Gallant Ouyang unfolded his fan and tapped it against his chest.

  “My heart quivers for you alone,

  You are the reason for these heavy sighs.”

  Unimpressed by his quoting from the Book of Songs, Lotus pulled a face. “I’d rather you didn’t think of me at all.”

  Gallant Ouyang was pleased just to have elicited a reaction. For a moment, his soul faltered and his voice disappeared.

  “You and your uncle may tyrannise the Western Regions, but if you think your philanderings will be tolerated on the Central Plains, you are wrong! But, as a courtesy to your uncle, I shall let you pass in peace today. Be off with you!” Count Seven said.

  Gallant Ouyang knew he should bite his tongue and walk away, but he was not in the habit of letting slights pass. “Allow me to take my leave of the Master. Should you not fall prey to ill health or calamity in the next few years, it would be my honour to receive you at White Camel Mount.”

  “A stripling like you dares to challenge me?” Count Seven chuckled. “This old beggar never makes dates with anyone. There is no enmity between your uncle and I, nor do we fear each other – we had a good fight twenty years ago. He couldn’t overpower me, but neither could I defeat him. We don’t need to meet again.” Suddenly, the good humour disappeared from the beggar’s face. “Get out of my sight!”

  Gallant Ouyang was taken aback. I haven’t mastered a third of Uncle’s kung fu. If this man’s claim is true, then I’d better keep my distance. A wise man does not walk knowingly into a swamp.

  So, with gritted teeth, he reset the jaws of his men and stole one last look at Lotus Huang before retreating into the woods.

  Shrill whistles were once more heard echoing between the trees, but now they were muffled with many a Yi! and Ah! as the three men in white cradled their bruised faces. The snakes heeded the call, and the wave of green ebbed into the forest.

  “Can he really keep so many snakes?” Lotus could hardly believe her eyes.

  Count Seven Hong took a large swig from his canteen and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “We had a lucky escape . . . They could have swarmed over us like a tide, and there is nothing I could have done. It was fortunate that they weren’t experienced enough to see through my tricks. If the Venom had been here . . .”

  “We could have run,” Guo Jing suggested.

  “You think you young ’uns can outrun the Venom of the West?” Count Seven laughed.

  “Is he really that dangerous?” Lotus asked.

  “There are Five Greats, as you know. Your own father, the Eastern Heretic. And me, the Northern Beggar. Then we have the Southern King and the Western Venom – that’s the boy’s uncle. Now that the greatest amongst us, Immortal Wang, has passed, we four that remain are of roughly equal prowess. Think about my kung fu, or your papa’s. Then you’ll have an idea of what Viper Ouyang can do.”

  With a harrumph, Lotus fell silent. Eventually, she said, “I don’t like people calling Papa the Heretic.”

  “Your father likes the name very much. He’s an eccentric, unorthodox. He cares not for conventions. He disagrees with Confucianism, the court, the state, and all the traditions they uphold. What does that make him, if not a heretic? He stands firm and acts alone, he doesn’t fawn over wealth or power, and I have always respected him for that. But, when it comes to the martial arts, the Quanzhen Sect is the orthodox school, and I admire them unreservedly.” Count Seven turned to Guo Jing. “You’ve trained with them, haven’t you?”

  “Elder Ma Yu taught me for two years.”

  “That’s why you can attain this level of prowess with the Dragon-Subduing Palm in just a month.”

  “Who is the Southern King?” Lotus asked.

  “His Majesty, of course.”

  “The Song Emperor in Lin’an?”

  “Him?” Count Seven laughed. “He barely has enough strength to lift a golden rice bowl. Southern Fire overcomes Western Gold – the Venom’s nemesis.”

  Count Seven looked at the sky. He seemed troubled. His face bore no trace of his usual joviality. Guo Jing and Lotus wanted to hear more about the Southern King, but they did not feel they should press him further.

  Eventually, the beggar made to move inside. As he passed through the doorway, his sleeve caught on a nail, but he was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice the material rip.

  “Let me mend it.” Lotus approached him with a needle and thread she had borrowed from the innkeeper’s wife.

  Count Seven snatched the needle and rushed outside. With a flick of his right hand, he sent a silver thread through the air.

  The needle skewered a grasshopper and pinned it to the ground. Lotus clapped in delight at the display.

  “Yes, this could work,” Count Seven muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Viper Ouyang has always loved to keep snakes and poisonous insects. It is most impressive how he controls so many with such ease. He must use some powerful drugs . . . That nephew of his is no doubt as crafty as the old man. He will speak ill of me, for sure. I need a plan to hold back the Venom’s creatures the next time we meet.”

  “Pin them down with needles!” Lotus had reached the same conclusion.

  Count Seven rolled his eyes. “You little imp! You always know what I’m thinking.”

  “And you’ve got the herbs, too. They stopped when you sprayed them with it.”

  “That will only hold them back for a moment.” Count Seven was still mostly talking to himself. “I could try the Skyful of Petals technique with needles, but if there are as many snakes as today, it would take a week or two to skewer the lot, and by then I’d have died of hunger . . .”

  “You could cook the snakes in chicken broth, then scatter some chrysanthemum petals and finely-shredded lemon leaves over it. Delicious!”

  Count Seven’s left index finger pulsed at the thought of snake soup, a welcome – if momentary – distraction from the prospect of an encounter with Viper Ouyang.

  “Right, I’ll find you your needles!” Lotus dashed out of the inn.

  Count Seven sighed. “You really should get her to give you a little of her wit.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible.” Guo Jing grinned sheepishly.

  In no time at all, Lotus returned with two large packets. “I’ve bought every single needle in the town. The local men will know all about it tomorrow when they don’t manage to buy any for their wives!” Lotus giggled.

  Count Seven bellowed with laughter. “Thank the heavens this old beggar was smart enough to avoid the trap of marriage! Come, come, let’s start. I know you kids are desperate to learn this little trick.”

  Lotus jumped to her feet immediately, but Guo Jing stayed seated.

  “I don’t think I’ll join you.”

  That was not the response Count Seven was expecting. “Why?”

  “I’ve learned more than I can remember already today.”

  Count Seven Hong was impressed by Guo Jing’s sense of honour. Though the beggar had insisted that he would not teach the young man again, he was prepared to go back on his word to ready him for their next encounter with Gallant Ouyang’s snakes. Yet Guo Jing had no interest in taking advantage of his great idea.

  So, while Count Seven taught Lotus the basics of the Skyful of Petals technique, Guo Jing practised the first fifteen moves of Dragon-Subduing Palm. He now felt as if he had glimpses of its subtle intricacies, but still suspected he would never be able to master the true depth and breadth of the moves.

  A fortnight later, Lotus had grown quite competent at the Skyful of Petals needle throw. She could send more than a dozen sewing needles flying at a target’s fatal points with a flick of her hand. However, she had yet to master the art of hitting several attackers at once with just one handful of
needles.

  When not practising, Lotus also made use of the snakes, preparing them in a myriad different ways – stir-fried, stewed, boiled into soups . . . She braised one coiled up, tucking its head under its tail.

  “I name this Haughty Dragon Repents, for this snake is as flexible and adaptable as a true hero!” Lotus declared, making Count Seven Hong and Guo Jing howl with laughter.

  That morning, Count Seven Hong had succeeded in casting several dozens of needles over an area of two zhang in one throw. He laughed heartily, but his delight was short-lived. “What is the Venom planning with those snakes?” he asked himself for the hundredth time.

  “If there are only three masters of the wulin who can match Viper Ouyang’s kung fu, why does he need to use the snakes at all?” Lotus said.

  “You’re right, he must be planning to use them on us – the other three Greats. The Beggar Clan and the Quanzhen Sect have many followers and allies. The Southern King obviously has his guards and soldiers. Your father is most skilled in divination and strategy – he can defeat an entire army on his own. If the three of us take on the Venom together, he won’t stand a chance . . .”

  “That’s why he needs his creatures!”

  “Catching and keeping snakes is a trick of the beggar’s trade. A handy way to swindle a few coins out of rich young ladies. It’s a feat to capture even a dozen snakes, but the Venom is herding thousands at a time. He must have spent a lot of time and energy on honing this skill. This is not a game to him.”

  “He must be planning something nasty, but we’re lucky that his nephew exposed their scheme. He couldn’t help showing off!”

  “I’m not so sure. Those snakes couldn’t have travelled thousands of miles from the west. He must have collected them in the mountains around here. He’s flippant, to be sure, a most slippery young man, but I doubt he would have done it just to show off. There’s something else at play here.”

  The Beggar Chief began to pace up and down. “What if the Venom keeps me so busy that I can’t spare a hand? What if his minions herd all the snakes towards me, all at once? What should I do?” he wondered aloud.

  Lotus laughed. “Well . . . there’s one strategy that never fails – run!”

  “Fie! What kind of a man would do that?”

  “I’ve got an excellent idea,” Lotus said, after a moment.

  “What is it?”

  “You can keep us with you. You fight the Venom, Guo Jing keeps his nephew busy, while I throw needles to skewer the snakes. The only problem is, Guo Jing hasn’t even learned the whole of Dragon-Subduing Palm. He’d probably struggle to beat that smarmy rogue.”

  Count Seven glared at Lotus. “You’re the rogue, here! All you ever think about is how to trick those last three moves out of me. Guo Jing is a good soul. I wouldn’t mind teaching him the rest of the moves. But that would make him my disciple and I’d be a laughing stock for taking on such a doltish protégé. And that won’t do.”

  Lotus knew nothing she could say or do would change Count Seven Hong’s mind, so she headed to the market to provision a spectacular meal to thank him. As she sauntered back to the inn with a basket full of fresh produce, she made little flourishes with her right hand, practising Skyful of Petals kung fu.

  5

  A PINTO HORSE CANTERED PAST LOTUS HUANG IN A TINGLE OF bells and stopped at the inn. She recognised the dismounting rider immediately. A resentment she had not felt for weeks resurfaced.

  Why do they want Guo Jing to marry her? What’s so special about her? Lotus decided to make her feelings known. She set down her basket and followed Mercy Mu inside.

  Lotus watched Ironheart Yang’s god-daughter sit at a square table, and noted how her whole being seemed weighed down by melancholy.

  When the waiter came for Mercy’s order, she responded without lifting her eyes from the table. “A bowl of noodles and four taels of boiled beef.”

  “Boiled beef! How boring.”

  Mercy looked up and was surprised to see the girl who had ridden away with Guo Jing standing by her table.

  “Please join me, sister,” she said as she got out of her seat.

  “Are you travelling with the short, fat man and the filthy scholar? What about those meddling Taoists?”

  “I am alone.”

  Her answer brought a grin to Lotus’s face. She did not have to worry about Qiu Chuji or Guo Jing’s shifus, then.

  Mercy seemed scrawnier than when Lotus had last seen her, a couple of months ago, yet her despondent air somehow enhanced her beauty. Her travelling boots stood out from her white mourning clothes, as did the mourning flower in her hair.

  Lotus noticed the dagger tucked into Mercy’s belt – the marriage token – and asked sweetly, “Sister, would you let me look at your dagger?”

  Mercy glanced at the outstretched hand, unsure what to do. She found the glint in the young woman’s eyes unsettling, but common courtesy compelled her to oblige. She removed it from her belt and handed it over.

  Lotus examined the carving on the hilt. Two characters: the surname Guo, and Jing, meaning “serenity”.

  I can’t let her carry a dagger with Guo Jing’s name, Lotus told herself. She drew the blade. The chill of the metal instantly cooled the air. What a weapon!

  “I’ll return it to Guo Jing.” Lotus resheathed the knife and put it inside her shirt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “His name is carved on the hilt. It clearly belongs to him.”

  “This is the only memento I have of my parents.” Mercy sprang to her feet. “Give it back!”

  “Catch me if you can!” Lotus darted out of the inn and turned left, heading away from the pine forest where Count Seven Hong was napping and the clearing where Guo Jing was practising the Dragon-Subduing Palm.

  Mercy followed as fast as she could, calling out after Lotus. I’ll never be able to catch her if she gets on her red horse, she thought.

  Lotus took a few sharp turns before stopping near a row of scholar trees. “If you can beat me, I’ll give it back to you. Duel for a Sword, this time, instead of Duel for a Maiden.”

  “Sister, please don’t make fun of me,” Mercy begged, her face flushed with embarrassment. “It’s the only connection I have left to my godfather.”

  “Who are you calling ‘sister’?” Quick as the wind, Lotus swerved close to Mercy and struck out with her palm.

  Mercy twirled aside. But Lotus’s Cascading Peach Blossom Palm was much faster.

  Smack, smack!

  Pain rattled Mercy’s ribcage. She skittered to the left and turned to face Lotus. Her palms flew hard and fast.

  “Wayfaring Fist – how awfully common!”

  How does she know? It’s Count Seven Hong’s unique kung fu! Mercy was taken aback.

  Lotus cut a backhanded slice with her left palm and thrust her right fist forwards.

  She knows it too! Mercy scuttled back, surprised. “Who taught you Wayfaring Fist?”

  “I invented it.” Lotus fired off two moves from that very same repertoire: Alms at the Gates and Hands Extended for Charity.

  Mercy blocked with a Roam the Four Seas. “You know Count Seven Hong?”

  “He’s an old friend,” Lotus said with a dazzling smile. “You fight with the kung fu he taught you and I’ll use mine. Let’s see who wins!”

  Mercy could not recognise a single move of Lotus’s rapid-fire onslaught and she did not stand a chance against a girl who had been taught by two of the greatest martial artists of the age.

  Lotus’s left palm shot up and hewed to the side, like a longsword. Mercy swerved away from the sharp edge of the strike. All at once, she felt the back of her neck growing numb. Lotus had flicked her Great Hammer pressure point with the Orchid Touch.

  This was an important intersection of the Governing Vessel Meridian along the spine and the Triple Heater Channel that extended down the arm. A touch on this spot drained all energy from the limbs.

  Mercy watched helplessly as Lotus to
ok a step closer and jabbed at the Will Chamber point on her right flank. She felt herself tipping backwards.

  She had lost all control of her body.

  She looked on as Lotus unsheathed the dagger and brought it sweeping down towards her face.

  This is it, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut.

  The swish of the sword, the chill of the blade . . . a dozen times over, but she felt no pain. She opened her eyes to the flash of the dagger. Its point glided past her cheek and ear. No more than an inch away.

  “Just kill me. Don’t play games!” Anger swelled through Mercy’s veins.

  “Why would I want to kill you? I have no quarrel with you.” Lotus paused, then added, “I’ll let you go if you do as I say. If you make this promise.”

  “No! Kill me, if you dare. I never beg!” Mercy closed her eyes and prepared to die.

  “It would be a shame to perish at such a tender age.” Lotus fell silent. When she spoke again, her tone had softened. “We are true to each other. Even if you marry him, he won’t like you.”

  “What do you mean?” Mercy’s eyes flew open and she stared at Lotus.

  “It’s fine if you don’t want to promise. I know he won’t marry you.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “Guo Jing.”

  “Guo Jing? What do you want me to promise?”

  “Swear you’ll never marry him. Swear on your life.”

  Mercy smiled. “I would not marry him, even if you forced me at knifepoint.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “It might have been my godfather’s dying wish, but . . . he wasn’t in his right mind then . . . He had forgotten . . . he betrothed me to another . . .” Mercy’s voice had suddenly gone very quiet.

  “I’m so sorry. I got it all wrong . . .” Lotus quickly released the lock on Mercy’s pressure points and massaged her limbs to ease the discomfort. “Sister, who is your betrothed?”

  A blush spread across Mercy’s cheeks. “You’ve met him,” was all she was able to whisper.

  “Have I?” Lotus tried to recall all the men she had encountered in the past few months, but no suitable candidate came to mind. “I can’t think of anyone good enough for my peerless sister, here.”