by Jin Yong
“Your Guo Jing isn’t the only good man in this world.”
“But why wouldn’t you want to marry Guo Jing? Is it because he’s too thick?”
“Not at all! I admire him very much. So pure-hearted, so righteous. He was kind to Papa and me. He stood up for us, with no regard for his own safety. I am forever indebted to him. He is a rare breed.”
“Then why?”
Mercy took Lotus by the hand. “Brother Guo is in your heart and you will never look at another man. Isn’t that so, sister? Even if they are more wonderful than him in every way.”
“Of course, but there can’t be anyone better than him.”
“So you understand . . . The Duel . . . I lost . . .”
“The Jin Prince Wanyan Kang!”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s a prince or a beggar, kind or cruel, my heart and my being will always be his.” Mercy’s voice was still barely audible, but she spoke with absolute certainty.
Lotus took Mercy’s hand and they sat, side by side, under one of the trees. She felt a profound connection to Mercy. Somehow, this young woman was able to put into words what she had been feeling all these weeks.
“This is yours.” Lotus offered Mercy the dagger.
“You should keep it. It has his name on it. It is . . . inappropriate for me to carry it on my person.”
“Thank you, sister,” Lotus said, putting the dagger back inside her shirt. She wondered how she could return this gesture of kindness. “What brought you to the south? Is there something I can help you with?”
“Nothing in particular.” The blush returned to her cheeks.
“I will take you to Count Seven.”
“He is here?”
Lotus heard a creak overhead, then saw a faint shape hopping from branch to branch, retreating through the treetops. She stood up, just as a piece of bark fell from above. On it was carved a short message, inscribed with a needle: Should Lotus misbehave again, she will be boxed on her ears. There was no signature, just the outline of a gourd.
Count Seven heard everything! It was Lotus’s turn to blush. She showed Mercy the note.
The young women could not find any sign of Count Seven Hong nearby. They headed back to the inn, arm in arm, but found only Guo Jing.
“Sister Mu, when did you last see my shifus?” he asked.
“We travelled south together, but parted ways in Shandong. I haven’t seen them since.”
“Did they seem well?”
“Don’t worry, they coped after your departure.”
The answer did not set Guo Jing’s mind at ease at all. All he could think about was how angry his martial teachers must be.
Noticing the effect of her words on Guo Jing, Mercy chose to change the subject. “Sister, you are so blessed to have spent all this time with Master Hong. I’ve longed to see him again, but he hasn’t even let me catch so much as a glimpse of him!”
“He was watching over you, though,” Lotus said. “If I’d tried to hurt you, he would have intervened.”
“Lotus, you tried to hurt Sister Mu?”
“Of course not!”
“She was afraid that I . . .” Mercy paused, feeling slightly awkward.
A flustered Lotus resorted to tickling Mercy’s armpits. “Are you sure you want to continue?”
“No, of course not! Would you like me to swear?” Mercy stuck out her tongue.
Lotus turned a deeper shade of red as she recalled how she had threatened Mercy earlier.
Never one to read into any exchange, Guo Jing was just happy to see how close the young women seemed.
After dinner, the three took a stroll in the woods. Mercy told her friends about her encounter with Count Seven Hong.
“I was very young then. Papa and I were in Bianliang. I was playing by the entrance of the inn where we were staying. I saw two beggars collapse, all bloodied and covered in stab wounds. No-one helped them because they were so filthy. I felt sorry for them, so I helped them into the room I shared with Papa. I didn’t really have any medical knowledge. I could only help them clean and bind their wounds. When Papa returned, he was pleased with what I had done. He said I was kind-hearted, just like his wife. He gave them a few taels of silver and they left full of thanks. A few months later, we came across those same beggars in Xinyangzhou. They had made a full recovery. They brought me to an abandoned temple to meet Master Hong. He was pleased with my actions and taught me moves from the Wayfaring Fist, for three days. When I returned on the fourth day, he was gone, and I never saw him again.”
“Count Seven forbade us to share his kung fu,” Lotus said. “But, if you are interested, we can spend a fortnight or so together and I can teach you some of the moves I learned from Papa.” Relieved that Mercy had so resolutely refused to marry Guo Jing, and grateful for her generous gift of the dagger, Lotus wanted to do something to repay the kindness of her new bosom friend.
“Thank you, sister. That’s very sweet of you, but I’m afraid I can’t stay. There’s something I have to attend to first. Once that’s done with, I’ll come back begging to learn!”
Lotus was curious. What did Mercy have to do that was so urgent? But she could tell from Mercy’s expression that she did not wish to speak about it. Over the past few hours, Lotus had come to realise that, although Mercy looked meek and bashful, she was headstrong and firm. Once she had made up her mind, she would not waver. Since Lotus would not be able to prise anything out of Mercy that she did not wish to divulge, she would have to find out her friend’s secret another way.
6
MERCY MU RUSHED OUT AFTER LUNCH AND DID NOT COME back until dusk. Lotus wondered what could occupy her friend for a whole afternoon in this small town, and she was even more intrigued when Mercy returned, visibly excited. Lotus was determined to uncover the mysterious business that had caused their paths to cross.
That night, the young women shared a room. Lotus took the kang bed-stove that was situated so as to allow her to observe her friend from behind. Mercy seemed more distant than ever, since retiring to their room, resting her head in her hands, staring at the lamp in a daze.
Lotus tucked herself into bed and kept very still to feign sleep. Before long, Mercy pulled a piece of material out of her bag. Tenderly, she brought it to her lips, a soft kiss. She gazed at it, lost in her own world.
Without moving, Lotus craned to get a better look. What was it? Silk? An embroidered handkerchief, perhaps? She couldn’t quite make out the pattern.
At that very moment, Mercy turned to face Lotus. She held the cloth high and performed a graceful flourish. Lotus squeezed her eyes shut, her heart thumping. She had come very close to being discovered.
Lotus felt a gentle rush in the air and let her eyelids part a little. The silhouette of Mercy weaved in and out of her vision, acting out what seemed to be different martial moves. The fabric was now draped around her arm.
Now Lotus remembered: Mercy had torn the sleeve of the Jin Prince when they duelled.
A smile hovered on Mercy’s lips. A light kick here, a soft punch there. She lifted her eyebrows and flicked her sleeve. Haughty and nonchalant.
A perfect impersonation of Wanyan Kang, Lotus thought.
Mercy indulged herself in this way for quite some time before turning to Lotus once more. Lotus shut her eyes quickly, but she could feel Mercy’s eyes on her, gazing intently through the half-light.
A sigh, then a whisper. “You really are beautiful.”
After that, Lotus heard the door being opened and closed, followed by a moment of silence. The last thing she could pick up from outside was the sound of nimble feet landing lightly on the ground.
Did she just jump over the inn’s wall? Lotus leapt out of bed and ran after Mercy, her curiosity reaching boiling point.
As she vaulted the inn wall, she caught a glimpse of Mercy sprinting westwards and followed silently with lightness kung fu. Catching up with Mercy took only a matter of moments, though she was careful to keep a safe distance of a
dozen paces.
When Mercy reached the town centre, she leapt onto a roof and looked around. Once she saw a tall structure in the south side of the town, she began to run towards it, bounding from roof to roof.
The Dai Mansion? Why is she going there? Lotus knew every house in the town, from her daily trips to the market. Has she run out of silver? Is that why she is heading for the wealthiest family, this late at night?
The gates of the mansion were brilliantly lit. Two large red silk lanterns hung high on either side of the doorway, the characters Imperial Envoy of the Great Jin Empire emblazoned in gold on the fabric, in an elegant flattened script. Four Jin soldiers stood guard under the lanterns, with their sabres raised. Lotus had walked past the household many times, but she had never seen it so heavily protected.
Maybe she’s here to steal from the Jin envoy? I’ll tag along and see what trinkets I can find for myself.
Shadowing Mercy, Lotus circled to the back of the estate and saw her friend pausing at the perimeter wall, before scaling it. Lotus followed suit and found herself in the Dai Mansion’s walled garden. She trailed after Mercy, scurrying between scholar’s rocks and miniature artificial mountains, winding between flowers and trees, until they reached a courtyard.
Flickering candlelight illuminated a chamber on the eastern side, and Lotus could make out, cast on the window paper, the ever-shifting silhouette of a man pacing back and forth.
Lotus watched Mercy approach the room slowly, her eyes fixed on the moving shadow.
And then she stopped.
Lotus was confounded by Mercy’s curious inertia. What’s she doing? She could easily barge in now and immobilise him through his vital points!
I know what I’ll do. I’ll surprise her and lock his pressure points. With that thought, Lotus repositioned herself on the other side of the building and found a window that was unlatched.
She was about to climb through the window when she heard the sound of the chamber door creaking open, followed by a man speaking in a most deferential tone.
“Your Excellency, a messenger has just arrived from the relay station. The Song escort for our Imperial Envoy, Commander Duan, shall arrive in the next two days.”
The message was received with a grunt. His Excellency, left to his devices, resumed his pacing of the room.
He must be the Jin envoy, Lotus said to herself. But maybe Mercy isn’t here to steal from him, after all. I’d better stay put, for now. I don’t want to ruin her plan.
She licked a finger. With the moistened nail, she cut a slit in the lowest pane of paper. She pressed her eye to the gap and saw a man draped in a silk robe that was fastened with an embroidered belt. She knew this man!
Wanyan Kang, the son of the Sixth Prince of the Jin Empire.
He was holding something, stroking it as he paced about. But she could not make out what it was. His eyes were fixed on a point beyond the rafters, his mind clearly preoccupied. When he came close to the candle, Lotus finally got a glimpse of the object in his hand: a rusty spearhead, still attached to about a foot of the shaft.
Lotus did not know that the spear had once belonged to Ironheart Yang, the young man’s father by birth and Mercy’s godfather, nor that it had been his late mother Charity Bao’s most treasured possession, but something in the way he caressed it reminded her of Mercy and the torn sleeve. She guessed his odd behaviour had to be in some way connected to her friend, and the thought made her giggle out loud.
“Who’s there?” Wanyan Kang snarled, extinguishing the candle with a wave of his hand.
Lotus darted behind Mercy. With the lightest of touches, she pressed both hands onto Mercy’s torso in a Reverse Lock, one of the seventy-two techniques of Grapple and Lock kung fu. By the time Mercy felt anything was amiss, her movement was already disabled.
“Don’t be scared, sister.” Lotus chuckled. “I’m sending you to your beloved.”
Wanyan Kang pulled the door open and was greeted with a girlish titter. “Your sweetheart’s here. Catch!”
A warm, fragrant body fell into his arms.
“How will you thank me?” A peal of giggles rang out from a nearby roof.
Wanyan Kang retreated further into his room, a little fearful.
“Who are you?” he growled.
“Don’t you remember me?” Mercy murmured.
She sounded familiar. Could it be . . .? Wanyan Kang had not expected to encounter her again. “Is it . . . Miss Mu?”
“It is I.”
“Who else came with you?” There was still suspicion in his tone.
“My mischievous friend. I had no idea she was following me.”
Wanyan Kang took a moment to collect himself, then relit the candle he had extinguished.
“Please take a seat.”
Mercy Mu perched on a nearby chair, her head bowed. She could hear her heart pounding.
Wanyan Kang observed the young woman in the candlelight. A hint of pink was blossoming on her pallid cheeks, accentuating her maidenly demeanour. He could feel something stirring inside – a heady mixture of surprise and excitement.
“What brings you here at this late hour?” His tone was softer now, almost gentle. His mind returned to what he had been dwelling on before the intrusion: his mother, his birth father – her godfather – and their untimely death. He felt tenderness take root in his heart.
“Your father has sadly passed away, but I will look after you like my own sister. You should come and live with us.”
“I wasn’t born to him . . .” Mercy stared into the floor as she spoke. “I am his god-daughter only.”
Wanyan Kang was struck by the significance of her answer. She is telling me we are not related by blood.
He smiled and took her right hand. She blushed a shade darker. She waved his advances away, half-heartedly, but his grip remained firm. She relented. Her head sank even lower.
Emboldened, he put his arm around her shoulders.
“This is the third time I’ve held you,” he said softly into her ear. “The first was at our duel. The second at the door just now. And, this time, we are alone. There is no-one else.” He was intoxicated – by her proximity, her fragrance and the slight tremble of her body.
Mercy had never felt like this before. A sweet tingle rushed through her, taking over her senses.
They stayed like this for some time without speaking. Eventually, Wanyan Kang asked, “How did you find me?”
“I followed you from the capital. I keep watch every night. But I never . . .”
He brushed his lips against her cheek at this confirmation of her feelings for him. Her skin seared like fire, swelling his passion further. He pulled her closer and kissed her. It was a long time before he allowed his arms to slacken.
“I have no father, no mother. Please don’t . . . cast me aside.”
Pulling her against his chest, Wanyan Kang caressed her hair. “Don’t you worry. I’ll always be yours. And you’ll always be mine. Yes?”
For the first time, Mercy raised her head, looked straight into Wanyan Kang’s eyes and nodded. She feared her heart might burst from this onslaught of emotions.
Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes glittered with expectation. Wanyan Kang could no longer contain himself. He blew the candle out and carried her to his bed. He held her close with one arm while the other hand worked at the knots that held her clothes together.
Feeling his hand on her skin, Mercy was jolted back to reality. “No! We can’t.” She struggled out of his embrace and rolled further into the bed.
But Wanyan Kang caught her in his arms again. “Should I ever be unfaithful, let me be cut into pieces.”
She put a finger to his lips to silence him. “I believe you.”
“Then let me . . .” He pressed his weight on her and tugged harder at the ties on her shirt.
“No . . . Please . . .”
He was deaf to her objections. His hands kept tugging at her clothes.
Mercy squirmed. Summoning her s
trength, she shoved him with both arms, driving him away with ease. He had not expected her to resist him with her kung fu. She jumped off the bed and grabbed the iron spearhead on the table.
“If you force me, I will kill myself, right here.” She pointed it at her heart as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Let’s talk. There is no need for that.” Wanyan Kang could feel his passion turn to ice.
“I may be poor, I may be wandering the rivers and lakes alone. But I am not base. I am not a loose woman. If you truly love me, you must respect me, respect my honour. You already know my future is tied to yours, no matter what. One day . . . if . . . on our nuptials . . . we shall . . .” she faltered. When she spoke again, her soft voice had gained an edge that could cut through steel. “If you dishonour me today, then death is my only way out.”
“I see that the fault is mine.” He was beginning to feel a quiet respect for this young woman. He got out of bed and lit the candle.
“I will wait for you at my godfather’s home in Ox Village, in Lin’an. It doesn’t matter when you come . . . with the matchmaker . . .” His apologetic response had softened her resolve. “Even if you don’t come, I will still be waiting.”
“Please be assured that, when I have finished my duty here, I shall personally lead the entourage to welcome my lady. Always faithful, always constant – this I vow, for life.”
Mercy smiled at his promise and left.
“Please stay,” Wanyan Kang implored. “So we can talk.”
She turned and waved, but her feet did not stop.
Wanyan Kang watched her disappear over the roof and stared at the void she left behind. When he realised the dark sky, the night breeze, the rustling trees and the twinkling stars were his only companions, he went inside.
The encounter had been as unreal as a dream, but her scent lingered in his room, the spearhead still glistened with her tears and a few stray strands of her hair clung to his bedding. He picked up the precious threads and put them in a pouch for safekeeping.
When Wanyan Kang had taken part in the Duel for a Maiden, he had done it for fun, without any intention of marrying Mercy Mu. But now, having held her in his arms again, heard her speak about her silent nightly visits and watched her protect her virtue, something seeded in his heart. He turned the encounter over and over in his mind as smiles alternated with sighs.