by Jin Yong
“Of course, Shifu! Just tell me.”
He sighed, then said, “We’ve not had long together as Master and student; I didn’t get to teach you much. But your opponent is skilled, so I must burden you with something of great weight, or I will never find peace.”
Count Seven was usually so jovial and lighthearted, so, from the way he hesitated, Lotus knew that, whatever it was he was about to ask of her, it was important.
“Shifu, please tell me. You came to Peach Blossom Island for my sake and now you are gravely injured. I will never be able to repay you. I only hope that I am not too young to carry out your request.”
“So, you accept?” A glimmer of joy passed across Count Seven Hong’s face.
“Yes. Please tell me.”
Shakily, Count Seven Hong rose to his feet, cupped his hands and bowed toward the north. “My beggar ancestors,” he began, “the clan that you founded has passed into my hands. Unfortunately, I lack the virtue and the talent necessary for the task. Today, great misfortune has befallen me and I have no choice but to pass on my burden. Spirits in the heavens, bless this child so that she might turn calamity into fortuity. This I do for the good of all the Clan.” At this, he bowed once more, while Lotus listened in shock.
“Now kneel, child.”
Lotus did as she was told and Count Seven raised his bamboo stick, before lowering it into her hands.
“Shifu,” Lotus began to stutter, “you want me to be the … the … Chief of the Beggar Clan?”
“Precisely. I am the eighteenth Chief of the Clan, and you shall be the nineteenth. Now, let us thank the ancestors.”
Lotus did not dare disobey. Imitating her shifu’s movements, she cupped her hands and bowed. At that moment, Count Seven spluttered and coughed a globule of phlegm, which landed on Lotus’s skirt. Shifu’s injuries are serious indeed, she said to herself sadly. He is too exhausted even to spit properly. She pretended not to have seen it.
“When it becomes official to the Clan, there will be a disgusting ritual, I am afraid. It will be hard on you.”
Lotus smiled. Beggars were all rough and filthy; how could it be avoided?
Count Seven exhaled slowly. His cheeks were white, but it was clear that his heart had been relieved of a heavy rock that had been pressing down upon it. A smile came to his lips. Lotus helped him to lie down.
“Now that you are the chief,” he began, “I am nothing but an elder of the Clan. While you must show me respect, you give the orders now. This was the way our ancestors decreed it, so you must obey. And, when you give your instructions, the Clan must obey.”
Lotus at once felt anxious. She was stuck on a deserted island, with no way to get back to the mainland. Guo Jing was dead, and she had no desire to live without him, but now her shifu had made her chief of all the beggars in the world … How was she going to fulfill his wishes? She looked down at Count Seven. Given his condition, she could not reveal these thoughts to him, so she merely nodded.
“On the fifteenth day of the seventh month of this year, the Four Elders of our Clan will gather by the shores of Dongting Lake, in Yuezhou, where they will hear the new chief announced. You need only bring my bamboo cane and they shall understand my intentions. All matters within the Clan are dealt with by the Four Elders. It does pain me, however, to send such a pure and chaste maiden into the arms of a rabble of squalid beggars. Yet, for all their filthy clothes and manners, the beggars are at least pure of heart.” He began to laugh, but was soon overcome by a hacking cough. Lotus massaged his back until he stopped.
“I am of no use to anyone now,” Count Seven Hong sighed. “Who knows when I will be called on to make my final journey? I’d better start teaching you Dog-Beating Cane, before it’s too late.”
It was an awful name for a martial-arts technique, Lotus could not help but think. And, besides, she could kill any dog with one punch, so why should she waste her time learning a whole repertoire to achieve the same end? But her Master was very ill indeed, and it was his wish, so she could only comply.
“Becoming the Chief of the Beggar Clan does not require you to change who you are,” Count Seven said. “If you like being mischievous, then it is mischievous you must be. This is why we live as beggars, so that we might be free to be ourselves, without restriction. Otherwise, why not become an official or a rich landowner? Or why not Emperor! If you think fighting with the Dog-Beating Cane is beneath you, then just say so!”
Lotus began to laugh. “I am merely wondering what dog could possibly be so fierce that it requires a special weapon and an entire fighting technique to overcome it.”
“You are now chief of all the beggars and you must act accordingly. Dressed in your finery and with the airs of a nobleman’s daughter, why, of course any dog will happily heel to you. Why would you need to hit it? But that is not the case for us beggars. As the old saying goes, ‘A poor man without a staff will be beaten by dogs.’ You’ve never been poor. You don’t understand our struggles.”
“Aha! Shifu, in this, you are mistaken!” Lotus said in delight.
Count Seven Hong looked puzzled.
“Just after Spring Festival this year, I escaped Peach Blossom Island and wandered the country, dressed as a beggar. There were many fierce dogs, but all I had to do was give them a kick and they instantly skulked away.”
“And when a dog is particularly fierce, you have to beat it with a staff.”
Do such dogs exist? Lotus asked herself. “Oh! I see!” she cried suddenly. “You mean other kinds of villains too!”
“You are clever,” Count Seven Hong chuckled. “Unlike…” He was about to say Guo Jing, but he stopped himself as a pang of sadness filled his chest.
Lotus understood immediately what he had been about to say, and a well of pain and bitterness flooded her heart. She wanted to wail out loud, but her Master needed her. In many ways, she was the adult in their relationship, and the responsibility of the Clan now lay on her shoulders, so she merely turned her head so that he could not see the wet beads of salt tears falling down her cheeks.
Count Seven knew there was no use in trying to console her—he felt the same sadness, after all—so he drew the conversation back to the history of the technique. “Our ancestors invented the thirty-six moves that make up the repertoire. It is passed only between chiefs of the Clan—no one else is allowed to know. Our third chief greatly surpassed the Clan’s founders and expanded its scope. For hundreds of years, now, the chiefs have used these techniques to defeat our toughest enemies.”
Lotus’s interest was now piqued. “Master,” she almost breathed, “why didn’t you use it against the Venom of the West when you were fighting him on the ship?”
“This is a most important and sacred repertoire for our Clan, and I had every chance of winning without having to resort to it. Who was to know that Viper Ouyang would be so underhand as to use venom against me, even after I had twice saved his life? He betrayed me.”
Lotus could see his mood was sinking. “Master,” she said, trying to distract him, “please teach me this great skill so that I might avenge you by killing him.”
Count Seven smiled, then reached for a piece of firewood and leaned against the stone wall. He began to recite the instructions, executing each of the thirty-six moves with the stick as he did so. Lotus was of exceptional intelligence, this he knew, and he feared he was not long for this world. The name of the technique may have been coarse, but the movements and transitions were subtle, and, as a whole, it was deserving of its reputation as one of the finest of all the martial systems ever invented. Why else would it have been so jealously guarded by generations of Clan leaders?
And yet, for all her quickness of mind, Lotus was able to remember only the overall structure, but none of the finer details. How could she master such a complex technique in such a short time?
Count Seven paused to catch his breath as the sweat dampened his clothes. “I have not taught you well,” he panted. “But that is all I can mana
ge, for now…” He groaned, then fell to the ground.
“Shifu!” Lotus cried and rushed to prop him up, but his body was cold, his cheeks white and his breath was shallow. It was too late.
These last few days had been full of trials and misfortunes, but, as she lay against her Master’s chest, the tears refused to come. She listened to his faint heartbeat and tried to massage his heart to aid his breathing.
Just then, she heard noises from behind. A hand reached out toward her.
She had been too consumed with tending to her Master to notice that Gallant Ouyang had entered the cave, and, when she did, she momentarily forgot that the man behind her was a wolf. “My Master is dying,” she said, turning around. “We must save him.”
The tears in her eyes and the depth of her despair sent a quiver through Gallant’s heart. He bent down to examine the Old Beggar, and the sight of his pale cheeks and rolled-back eyes restored his good mood. He was so close to Lotus that he could feel her breathing and smell her sweet, floral fragrance. A few strands of her hair fluttered, caressing her cheek, and his chest began thumping so hard he could barely contain himself. He reached out and put his arm around her waist.
Taken aback, Lotus struck him and jumped away. Gallant Ouyang had been fearful of Count Seven Hong and thus had not dared to move to claim the young object of his desires, but, now her protector was dying, he was no longer deterred. “I had decided to restrain myself, but you are just too beautiful. Come, kiss me.”
He approached her again. Lotus was terrified. She was in greater danger now than she had been in the Prince of Zhao’s residence. I have to kill him, or I will never forgive myself. She reached into her robe and took out Guo Jing’s dagger.
Smiling, Gallant Ouyang removed his long robe and came two steps closer. Lotus waited for him to take another step. Before his foot could touch the ground, she had thrown herself left.
Gallant followed. Lotus raised her arm. He whipped his robe and flicked the dagger aside. Lotus shot toward the mouth of the cave like an arrow.
But Gallant was faster. Lotus heard the rush of air behind her—his fist was coming for her back. She was wearing her Hedgehog Chainmail and she was not scared to die. In order to attack, she would have to leave herself vulnerable. She turned and jabbed her dagger at his chest.
Gallant had no intention of hurting her—his punch had a feint, nothing but a ruse designed to tire her out. But, with the flash of the blade, he grabbed at her wrist, pivoted and rushed past her, trapping Lotus inside the cave.
Lotus launched a fresh onslaught, fierce and fast, with no thought to her own defense. Gallant was far more accomplished in kung fu than Lotus, but, given his reluctance to cause her any real harm, he found it difficult, at first, to ward off her attack.
Yet, before long, they had exchanged over fifty moves, and Lotus was in trouble. She had learned her kung fu from her father, Gallant from his uncle. Apothecary Huang and Viper Ouyang were peers in the wulin, but Lotus was only fifteen and Gallant was in his fourth decade. This amounted to a twenty-year gap between them in training and practice, and that was without taking into consideration the difference in their strength, as governed purely by biology. Lotus was a less diligent student than her opponent. She had learned a few moves from Count Seven, to be sure, but she had not taken the time to truly master them. This all meant that, despite his injury, Gallant had the upper hand.
Suddenly, Lotus pounced forward and threw a handful of needles. Gallant blocked them with a flap of his robe. Lotus followed with a stab at his right shoulder. He tried to strike with his good palm, but the dagger in Lotus’s hand twirled, changed directions, and with a huh! plunged toward his broken arm.
Lotus grinned, despite the numbing pain pulsing through her wrist. The dagger clattered to the ground.
Gallant had reached out and pressed on her Suspended Bell pressure point, three inches above her left ankle, then the Central Metropolis, seven inches above her right ankle, on the inside of her leg.
Lotus managed two more steps before stumbling and falling. Gallant rushed forward to place his robe beneath her.
“Aiya—careful!”
As soon as she hit the ground, Lotus threw more needles at Gallant and tried to propel herself back onto her feet, but, with no feeling in her legs, she fell again.
Gallant reached out to help her up, but Lotus returned the gesture with a punch from her remaining good hand. Her move lacked any strength, however, and Gallant merely laughed as he pressed the pressure point on her wrist.
Lotus coiled into a heap, as if she were a piece of rope. I should have turned the weapon on myself, she lamented. Now, I can’t even beg for death.
A darkness descended over her eyes and she fainted.
“Don’t be scared,” Gallant said in a soothing voice. Just as he reached out a hand to touch her, a cold voice came from behind.
“Do you wish to live? Or die?”
Gallant twisted round and saw Count Seven Hong standing at the entrance to the cave, giving him a cold sideways look. Instantly, he recalled the story his uncle had told him about how Wang Chongyang had jumped out of his coffin and nearly killed him. The Old Beggar was only pretending to be dead; I’m done for. He knew he was no match for the old Master in a fight, so he knelt before him.
“Lotus and I were just playing. Don’t be angry, Uncle Hong.”
“Scoundrel!” Count Seven spat the word. “Are you going to release her, or shall I?”
Gallant nodded and rushed to press Lotus’s pressure points.
“Come back and I will not show the same mercy. Now, go!” With that, Count Seven turned away.
Gallant ran off, disappearing like a puff of vapor.
Lotus came to slowly, as if waking from a dream. Count Seven Hong could bare the pain no more and collapsed to the ground. Lotus leaped up and rushed to support him. His mouth was full of blood and three of his teeth tumbled from his gums.
A master of his level, Lotus said to herself, and he is reduced to this, losing his teeth in a fall.
Count Seven spat the teeth into his hand. “My poor little choppers, you and I shall never again savor gourmet delights together. I never expected you to be the ones to say goodbye first.”
The old man was gravely injured. The venom was still wreaking its havoc and Viper’s blow to his back had damaged the vital meridians through which his qi flowed. That he was still alive was largely due to the years of kung fu training, but he was so weakened that a stranger would not have guessed he was a martial man at all. He would not even have had the strength to unlock Lotus’s pressure points by himself. He looked at her concerned face.
“Don’t worry. I may be weak, but I still have my reputation. That foul imp won’t be back any time soon.”
“True. But where will we get our food?” She was usually sharp-witted, but the shock of events had flustered her, and she could not think straight.
“You’re thinking of ways to get food?”
Lotus nodded.
“Help me to the beach and we can sit in the sun.”
Count Seven leaned on her shoulder and together they slowly walked toward the sea.
The weather was fine, and the sea stretched without limit, like a sheet of blue satin quivering in a breeze.
If only it were actually made of satin, Lotus thought to herself. So soft, so shiny. So nice to the touch.
The sun warmed their bodies and their spirits.
5
Gallant Ouyang was standing some distance away, beside a large rock. He saw them approach and quickly retreated, but they did not follow. So, he stopped to watch.
Gallant was cunning, both Count Seven and Lotus knew that, but he would reveal his weakness eventually. For now, however, they wished to distract themselves, so Count Seven sat on a rock and Lotus broke off a branch to make herself a fishing rod. She peeled the bark from another long stick to use as the line, and took one of her needles out of her robe, bent it and secured it as a hook. She found some s
mall crabs and shrimp to use as bait. The water was teeming with fish and, before long, she pulled up three local mackerel, each weighing around a jin. Lotus then wrapped the fish in clay and cooked them slowly—the same method used to make beggar’s chicken. Together, Master and pupil filled their bellies.
After they had rested awhile, Count Seven instructed Lotus to perform each of the moves that made up the Dog-Beating repertoire. He sat on the rock and gave her guidance. Lotus was beginning to get to grips with its techniques, its subtle changes and amalgamations.
By sunset, she was hot and dusty from training in the heat, so she removed her outer garments before plunging into the sea. As she felt the rush of water around her, a silly thought struck her: Deep at the bottom of the sea is where the Sea Dragon King lives in his Dragon Palace. Maybe Guo Jing is there and has been united with the beautiful Dragon Princess? A surge of jealousy coursed through her, and her expression turned sullen.
She kept diving down into the water until, suddenly, she felt a pain in her left ankle. She tried to tug it back, but it was caught. Lotus had been playing in the water since she was a young child, so she knew that her foot must be caught in a large clam. She was not alarmed, bending down to feel it with her hand. Wait! It was as big as a table! She had never come across such a large clam in these waters. She reached into the shell with both hands to prise it open. Try as she might, however, she could not make the shells part. The clam gripped harder in response and the pain in her ankle surged. She tried to lift the clam, but it occurred to her that it probably weighed as much as three hundred jin and had been growing there for years, cementing itself ever more securely to the reef below. How could she possibly lift it?
Lotus struggled a little longer, but the pain in her foot was becoming unbearable. In her panic, she managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of seawater. I didn’t want to live, she suddenly realized. But if I die now, leaving Shifu all alone on this island, so that scoundrel can come back and torture him, I will never find peace.
She grabbed a large nearby rock and smashed it against the clam, but its shell was solid, and she could gather little momentum under the waves. After a few attempts, the clam merely tightened its grip once again, and Lotus swallowed yet more seawater.