by Jin Yong
“Out of the way! Quick!”
As he leaped aside, barking a warning to his clansfolk, he saw Lotus reach out, tap the bamboo cane’s end on the midpoint of his hurtling staff and guide it gently to the ground.
This move from the Dog-Beating repertoire was called Crush the Dog’s Spine.
“Let’s play!” Lotus said with a chuckle.
Jian was astounded. I will be admitting defeat the moment I begin to concede an inch, he told himself as he bent down to pick up his staff.
He bowed, holding his weapon upside down. “Please be merciful with the cane.”
Elder Jian’s gesture was well known throughout the wulin to signify wholehearted deference to a martial elder. It demonstrated his admission that he did not consider himself skilled enough to fight on an equal footing, and was instead seeking to learn.
“No need to stand on ceremony; I fear I am the lesser fighter, here.” Lotus extended the cane and flicked Jian’s metal staff the right way up with a Flip the Dog Belly Up.
It was not an overstatement to describe Elder Jian’s staff, which he had wielded for decades, as an extension of his person. Yet, one light touch of the bamboo cane and its tip was now spinning toward his temple. The beggar locked his wrist to halt the momentum, narrowly avoiding making a fool of himself before the fight had even started.
Since Jian had declared himself inferior, he followed the martial custom that dictated the weaker party should initiate the first three moves.
Balancing the staff on his shoulder, Jian tipped the steel bar back before swinging it down.
Stones Flogged for the Qin Emperor, a move from the Staff of Demented Frenzy repertoire made famous by Sagacious Lu, a hero of the Marshes of Mount Liang.
Lotus knew she had to be careful. Even a glancing blow from the metal pole might result in internal injury, for all the protection afforded her by the Hedgehog Chainmail.
Answering with the Dog-Beating kung fu, she edged her way forward between flashes of steel.
Thick as a child’s arm, the metal staff weighed at least thirty jin. The bamboo cane looked flimsy in comparison. Yet that apparent weakness was its greatest strength. Weighing no more than a dozen taels, it could be wielded with ease.
In no time at all, the Dog-Beating Cane had woven a net of attack so tight that the staff could find no room to strike.
At first, Elder Jian avoided direct contact with the Dog-Beating Cane, fearing he might shatter the Beggar Clan’s symbol of authority. But, within a dozen or so exchanges, the little green stick was jabbing and poking at every vital point up and down his body. He pulled his weapon close, using every scrap of kung fu knowledge and combat experience he had accumulated over the decades to block the onslaught.
Guo Jing watched in awe. He had seen Lotus employ Dog-Beating kung fu several times before, but even he found it impossible to anticipate her next move. His thoughts soon strayed to the man who taught her this intricate kung fu, Count Seven Hong.
Wherever you may be, Shifu, I hope you are on the mend, he prayed silently.
Lotus shifted her grip down the cane. Pinching it in the middle with just three fingers, she twirled it playfully in a circle.
Though somewhat flummoxed by this sudden show of apparent frivolity, Elder Jian recognized that this was his chance. Hoisting his weapon, he speared it at Lotus’s left shoulder.
A swivel of her wrist, and the cane took a sharp twist, its tip coming to rest one foot beneath the top of the metal pole.
Instantly, Jian felt his arm being drawn outward, his weapon straining against his palm. The light touch of the cane had turned the thrust of his attack back on him. Tightening his grasp, he struggled to regain control of his staff.
Jian’s retreat only brought his opponent closer. Alarmed, he switched to a different kung fu, then another. Yet, seven or eight martial repertories later, the bamboo cane still clung as if glued to every move of the steel staff.
Dog-Beating kung fu utilized eight types of attack: Trip, Hack, Coil, Jab, Flick, Draw, Block, and Spin. As the duel continued, Lotus settled into a series of Coil moves, curling the cane around the staff like a vine winding its way up a tree. The tree trunk could grow tall or wide, but it could never untangle itself from the vine’s grip.
Elder Jian made several more attempts to free himself, all to no avail. Concentrating his neigong energy in his arms, he switched to the Mighty Vajra Staff technique. The air growled with each swing of the steel staff, but the cane continued to trail every sweep and strike like a shadow. Though it appeared that Jian was pulling Lotus along, he was, in fact, being stifled by his own struggle to free himself from the influence of the bamboo stick.
Jian had unleashed half of the repertoire’s moves, but it was having no effect. He was now certain of Lotus’s claim.
Just as he was about to pull back and admit defeat, he heard Elder Peng’s voice: “Grapple and Lock the cane.”
“Go on, try it!” Lotus whipped into a succession of Spin attacks, which forced Elder Jian to follow her instead.
The Dog Beater was a whirlwind of green, spinning between the five major acupressure points along the beggar’s spine: the Unyielding Space, on the back of his head; the Wind Mansion, on the nape of his neck; the Great Hammer, where the neck joined the shoulders; the Spirit Tower, between his shoulder blades; and the Suspended Pivot, at the base of his backbone.
A touch on any of these points by the cane would be lethal—or would cripple him, at the very least.
Jian understood the danger he was in, but he was so harried that he could not even lift his staff for his own protection. He pressed forward, hoping to create some space in which to turn, but the green storm had engulfed him. The cane’s point would not stop flitting over his five vital points.
The beggar had only one option left. He must escape.
The instant he reeled away from one blow, the next one would fall on him. The faster he tried to evade it, the faster the cane chased him. He ended up running round and round in an ever-expanding circle.
Lotus, meanwhile, was in her element. She swapped the cane between her hands without turning her body or shifting her feet, and yet she did not for one moment let the tip stray from the vulnerable points on the beggar’s back.
By now, Elders Lu, Peng, and Liang had hopped down from the Terrace to give Jian more room, but it did him no good. The beggar ran another half a dozen laps before crying, “Mercy, Miss Huang! I yield!”
“What did you call me?” Lotus asked, with another bright smile.
“I bow to the chief.”
Jian wanted to put his words into action, but the Dog-Beating Cane was still dancing around his back. His robe was, by now, drenched through and beads of sweat were dripping from his beard.
At last, Lotus felt vindicated. Beaming, she pulled back with a flick of the cane, tapped it instead on the steel staff and flung it upward. Once more, she had used Jian’s own power against him, sending the momentum back into his staff.
The heavy weapon flew up high into the sky.
Elder Jian bowed deeply, relieved that he had been spared. The rest of the beggars followed, bending low as they saluted their chief. They had all been convinced by Lotus’s mesmerizing skills.
Jian took a step forward to spit in her face, but, casting his eyes over her jade white complexion glowing with a coral blush, and her features delicate as spring blossom, he hesitated, then swallowed the phlegm back down.
Just then, the air parted above his head.
A shadow flitted onto the Terrace and caught Jian’s steel staff.
Elder Peng: the beggar who had captured Lotus and Guo Jing using the dark art of mind entrapment.
Lotus was pleased for the chance to seek redress. She pointed the cane at the Purple Palace pressure point, just above his sternum. Her plan was to intimidate him using the Spin technique, aiming for the vital points on his chest and forcing him into a clumsy retreat, making him out to be an even bigger buffoon than Jian.
But Peng stood
his ground, crossed his arms, and bowed. What was the point of fighting this young woman when his kung fu was inferior to Jian’s?
Lotus touched the cane on his acupressure point, but held back her inner strength. “What do you want?”
“I bow to the chief.”
Lotus glared at him. The moment their eyes met, her heart fluttered. She turned away at once, but curiosity got the better of her and she stole another glance.
A radiance was emanating from his eyes. A glow that reached deep into her being. She could not look away, so instead she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Chief, you must be tired. Rest a little.” His mellifluous tone was soothing.
Exhaustion washed over Lotus. She could hear a voice in her head: It’s been a long night.
Her eyes sore and her throat parched, she felt drained.
“Peng, what do you think you’re doing?” Elder Jian could see that Peng was trying to hypnotize her. He had honored the young woman as the Chief of the Beggar Clan; it was now his duty to protect her.
Peng smiled at Jian. “The chief needs to rest. She’s worn out. You mustn’t disturb her.”
A small part of Lotus was aware of the peril she was in, but her body had given in to the fatigue. It wanted her to close her eyes, to sleep. It would not have cared if the skies were about to crash down upon her. Her body needed rest.
Guo Jing’s words from before suddenly broke through her semiconscious state.
“Soul Switching … tell me more…” She felt as if she had been jolted from a dream.
Guo Jing had been watching Lotus closely, poised to strike a deadly blow against Elder Peng if he used that infernal skill of his again. He rushed over and whispered the description from the Nine Yin Manual into her ear.
She listened carefully. The principle of Desist and Observe.
Desist: control of the heart. She ran the lines one by one in her head. Desist: embodiment of the essence.
She closed her eyes. Drawing on her wealth of martial and literary knowledge, she inhaled. Breath and mind joined as one. With each fresh gulp of air, her body calmed.
Elder Peng watched her eyelids droop and her breathing slow. She must be asleep now, he told himself. Thrilled with his success, he readied himself for the next step of his scheme.
Just then, Lotus opened her eyes and smiled at him.
Pure joy.
The corners of his mouth turned up. He was floating.
An indescribable feeling spread through him. A lightness of being. A laugh burst forth before he could comprehend what was happening.
Lotus was impressed: The Nine Yin Manual lives up to its reputation. I’ve overpowered him with a mere smile.
Flushed with triumph, she grinned wider still. She was curious to see its full effects.
Elder Peng realized he was in grave danger and tried with every fiber of his being to still his heart, but it was impossible to claw back control in his panic-stricken state.
He caught a glimpse of Lotus’s smirk and cradled his belly as he convulsed with another wave of laughter.
Ha ha ha … he he he … ah-ha-haa-haaa … aaah-ha-aaa-yaaa-ooo …
Chortling ever louder, his voice spread out across the lake in a cacophony of hooting and bellowing.
The beggars looked at each other. What was so funny?
“Elder Peng!” Jian tried to restore order.
Peng pointed at Jian’s nose and doubled over, shaking merrily.
Jian rubbed his sleeve over his face, feeling self-conscious.
The sight made Peng guffaw even harder. He backflipped down from the Terrace and rolled on the ground in hysterics.
The beggars sensed something was wrong. Two of Peng’s most trusted followers rushed over to help him back onto his feet. Shrieking with laughter, the beggar Elder pushed them away.
Before long, gasps could be heard amid the cackling. Peng’s face was turning purple as he sank deeper into this uncontrollable fit.
In normal circumstances, Soul Switching only resulted in drowsiness, but Lotus had used it against Peng just as he was trying to entrap her, when he was at his most vulnerable.
“Chief, allow me to speak.” Elder Jian bowed and stayed bent over as he spoke, to show his submission. He feared Peng would soon be suffocated by his uproarious state. “Elder Peng has been insolent and deserves to be punished. And yet, we beg the chief to be magnanimous.”
As Surefoot Lu and Elder Liang chimed in with their entreaties, Peng was still squeaking and squawking in the background.
Lotus turned to Guo Jing. “Enough?”
He nodded.
“I will let him go, on one condition. No one is to spit on me.”
“The chief’s word is our command,” Jian said immediately. Time was now of the essence if Peng’s life was to be saved.
“Go on, jab his pressure point.” Lotus chuckled, happy to be spared the disgusting ritual of being anointed as Beggar Chief with the Clan’s saliva.
Jian jumped down and struck two of Peng’s acupressure points. The laughter ceased immediately. Peng’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he gulped great mouthfuls of air. He was thoroughly defeated.
“Well, I do rather need a rest now,” Lotus mused. “Hey, where’s Yang Kang?”
“Gone,” Guo Jing answered.
“What?” She jumped up in frustration. “How? Where?”
“There.” He pointed toward the lake. “With Qiu Qianren.”
Lotus gazed into the distance and saw a set of sails resting close to the horizon. They had too much of a head start. Although annoyed, she understood why Guo Jing had not stopped Yang Kang—he still honored the friendship between their fathers and their own sworn brotherhood.
* * *
IN FACT, Guo Jing had only noticed Yang Kang was gone when it was too late.
Like everyone else, Yang Kang had been watching the contest between Lotus and Elder Jian intently. When he saw how Jian struggled so soon, he knew he would have to get off the island if he was to have any hope of staying alive. Carefully, he edged over to the envoys of the Iron Palm Gang and asked for their help.
Qiu Qianren had also realized that the teenage girl would soon succeed in her claim as the Chief of the Beggar Clan. It would do him no good to stay, outnumbered as he was, especially as he would have to deal with her companion’s redoubtable kung fu. He signaled to his entourage and slipped away before the fight was over, taking Yang Kang with him.
Some beggars did observe the Iron Palm Gang’s retreat, but the Clan’s commanding figures were too involved in the fight to take heed, so they let the uninvited guests slip away.
* * *
LOTUS HUANG raised the Dog-Beating Cane high. “I shall help Chief Hong look after our Clan’s affairs until his return. Elder Jian, Elder Liang, lead the Disciples of Eight Pouches east to meet Chief Hong. Elder Lu, you will stay here to recuperate.”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
“What should we do about him?” Lotus pointed at Elder Peng.
Jian bowed and did not straighten up until he had said his piece: “Brother Peng’s transgression was grave and he must be severely punished. Nonetheless, I beg the chief to think on the deeds he has done for the Clan over the years and spare his life.”
“I knew you would speak on his behalf.” Lotus shot Jian a look, but there was also a hint of a smile on her face. “Fine, he has laughed enough. Let him be demoted … He shall become a Disciple of Four Pouches.”
Peng and the three remaining beggar Elders thanked their chief in unison. Deflated and full of regret, Peng removed five bags from the nine he wore on his back.
Once the erstwhile Elder had trudged toward the rear, to be with the others of his rank, Lotus continued to address the Clan. “It is not often that our brethren come together; there must be many affairs to attend to. But, before we proceed, we must give Vigor Li and Prosper Yu a worthy burial.
“I can see that Elder Lu is the best among you, so you shall obey him in all ma
tters of import for the time being.” A moment later, she added, “Elder Jian and Elder Liang will provide assistance,” so no one would try to undermine Surefoot Lu’s authority.
“I’ll bid farewell, now—we have other affairs to attend to—but I shall see you all in Lin’an before long.” With those words, Lotus took Guo Jing’s hand and headed down toward to the shore.
The beggars guided them to the pier and stood to attention as they watched the boat carrying their new chief vanish into the mists.
2
Guo Jing and Lotus arrived at the Yueyang tower just as dawn was breaking. Ulaan and the condors were waiting patiently for them on the shore.
Lotus gazed at the early morning sun breaking away from the ripples, its colors reflected in the lake and the sky. It was a majestic sight.
“Between the lips are mountains far, in the mouth is the Yangtze long—vast, gushing and infinite. The glow of dawn, the shade of dusk, ten thousand shifting scenes.
“Fan Zhongyan captured the view so well,” she said. The description was from “Memorial to Yueyang Tower.” “We have to stop and take a look. Let’s climb to the top.”
Together, they scaled the Tower and watched the sun rise over Dongting Lake. The events from the night were still fresh in their minds, and yet, for a while, they did not speak of them, making conversation about nothing in particular instead.
Suddenly, Lotus’s face darkened. “I haven’t forgiven you.”
“Huh?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Guo Jing scratched his head, unable to recall what he might have done wrong. “Please—please, tell me.”
“Why were you prepared to leave me by myself when the beggars tried to push us off the cliff? Do you think I could have gone on living without you? Don’t you know by now how I feel?” Tears began to fall down her cheeks.
Guo Jing took her hand and clasped it to his chest, too overwhelmed to reply. “You’re right,” he said eventually. “If one of us is to go, we should go together.”
Lotus sighed, but her reply was cut short by the sound of footsteps. A man appeared at the top of the stairs. He was glancing left and right just as the young couple turned to see who it was. They could not believe their eyes.