by Jin Yong
“Master Ma is most cautious, and my brothers hold Your Reverence in the highest esteem. Please direct us to the correct path,” Zhu Cong said.
“My plan may seem ambitious, arrogant even. All I ask is that the Six Heroes of the South do not laugh at it.”
“The Master is too modest. The Seven Quanzhen Disciples of Wang Chongyang are admired throughout our lands.” Zhu Cong’s respect was indeed genuine, though he felt that Qiu Chuji had done little to deserve it.
“Our reputations rely entirely on the virtues of our late teacher,” Ma Yu replied. “But it seems unlikely that Iron Corpse would attack the Quanzhen alone. Therefore, I would like to use our much-exaggerated reputation to scare her away. It is a dishonourable plan, to be sure, but the intention is noble and it will do no damage to the good name of the Heroes.”
He began to explain the plan, but the Freaks could not hide the fact that they were insulted by Ma Yu’s suggestion. What if Cyclone Mei had made progress in her dark arts? Or if Apothecary Huang came to her aid? They might perish like their brother Zhang, but that would do them no discredit. Yet Ma Yu was steadfast in his efforts to persuade them. An unequal contest brings no honour to the victor, he argued.
Ke Zhen’e listened with displeasure, but even he had to recognise the Taoist’s prestige and the care he had taken of their student Guo Jing. It was clear he was trying to help them.
Together they ate and talked, and then made their way to the cliff. Ma Yu and Guo Jing were the first to ascend. The others watched Ma Yu’s steady, secure steps as he followed behind the boy. His neigong inner strength kung fu was evident. He’s certainly as accomplished as Qiu Chuji, they were thinking, only Elder Eternal Spring has found more fame throughout the south. More a question of personality than ability, they concluded. Once at the top, Ma Yu and Guo Jing released the end of a long rope and pulled the Six Freaks up behind them.
There, the Freaks laid eyes on the rock covered in the half-inch gashes Mei had scored across it. It looked more like the work of an axe than a whip. Ma Yu was not exaggerating, after all.
They sat down on the ground and crossed their legs. Dusk began to obscure the landscape around them and there they waited until close to midnight, by which time Ryder Han could take it no longer: “Why isn’t she coming?”
“Shh, I think I hear her,” Ke Zhen’e hissed.
They strained to listen against the silence, but only Ke Zhen’e could make out the sound of her footsteps several li in the distance.
They looked out into the darkness and there, caught in the moonlight, they saw what looked like a wisp of black smoke racing across the sand towards them. Within moments she was climbing. Zhu Cong glanced at Gilden Quan and Jade Han. Their faces were ashen and his must have looked the same.
At that moment she appeared. They could make out the shape of a figure strapped to her back. It wasn’t moving. Was it dead? Guo Jing thought he might recognise Khojin’s black fox-fur coat. He peered harder. If it wasn’t Khojin, then who was it? His mouth was dry and he could not speak. Zhu Cong quickly placed his hand over Guo Jing’s mouth and then called out: “Cyclone Mei is an evil demon-witch. Once I, Qiu Chuji, get my hands on her, she will be finished!”
Mei froze in surprise, and then ducked behind a rock, waiting for more. Ma Yu and the Freaks could not help finding the scene amusing, despite the gravity of what was unfolding. Guo Jing, however, was burning with fear for Khojin’s safety.
“Cyclone Mei stacked these skulls, so she’s been here before.” It was Ryder Han who spoke. “All we have to do is wait.”
Mei remained where she was, uncertain as to how many kung fu masters Qiu Chuji had brought with him.
“She has done us much evil,” Jade Han replied, “but the Quanzhen Sect emphasises compassion above all else. She must be given another chance.”
“The Sage of Tranquillity is tender of heart.” Zhu Cong chuckled. “No wonder our Master always said you came to the Way so effortlessly.”
Central Divinity Wang Chongyang, founder of the Quanzhen Sect, was Master to seven of the greatest fighters of the wulin. Ma Yu, known by his Taoist name Scarlet Sun, was considered his first and best disciple. Then came Eternal Truth Tan Chuduan, Eternal Life Liu Chuxuan, Eternal Spring Qiu Chuji, Jade Sun Wang Chuyi, Infinite Peace Hao Datong and finally the Sage of Tranquillity, Sun Bu’er, who had been married to Ma Yu before he turned to a life of celibacy and meditation.
“Brother Tan, what do you say?” Jade Han said, turning to Nan the Merciful.
“She is deserving of the harshest punishment!”
“Brother Tan, you have made great progress of late in your Finger Brush technique,” Zhu Cong continued. “Will you give us a demonstration when the witch arrives?”
“I rather think Brother Wang’s Iron Foot would be more appropriate,” Nan said. “He could kick her off the cliff and reduce her to a pile of bones.”
Jade Sun Wang Chuyi was one of the most renowned of the Seven Disciples, close behind Qiu Chuji. He once stood for hours on the edge of a high ravine on one foot, as a bet, the wind beating against him and his fluttering sleeves. A crowd of martial artists who had travelled from the north watched in astonishment, giving him the name Immortal of the Iron Foot. He spent nine years living as a recluse in a mountain cave, practising his arts. Qiu Chuji wrote a poem in honour of his skill, including the now famous couplet:
Nine summers he stood, greeting the sun,
Three winters he embraced the snow as he slept.
The exchange had been discussed in advance. Only Ke Zhen’e had ever spoken to Mei, so they were sure she would not recognise the others’ voices.
Iron Corpse grew more alarmed as she listened. All seven Masters of the Quanzhen here, on the steppe? One noxious Taoist would be no problem . . . but seven?
The moon was still high in the sky, bathing the summit in its cold light. But it was not going to last for long.
“A bank of black clouds is coming in,” Zhu Cong said quietly. “Soon we won’t be able to see our own hands. We must be careful not to let the witch escape.”
Mei knew that night’s cloak would work to her advantage.
Guo Jing’s gaze was still fixed on Khojin. Just then he saw her slowly open her eyes. She was still alive! He tried to wave at her not to move.
Khojin caught sight of her friend. “Help! Save me!”
“Shhh!” Guo Jing hissed back.
Mei froze. She then quickly pressed a finger against one of Khojin’s pressure points and the girl went limp. Now she was suspicious.
“Harmony Yin, did you say something?” Zhu Cong said.
“I . . . Yes . . .” Guo Jing stuttered.
“I think I heard the voice of a young girl,” Zhu Cong continued.
“Yes, I think you’re right,” Guo Jing replied.
What are the chances of me meeting all seven Masters of the Quanzhen Sect here, on this particular summit, so far out in the wilds of the north? Mei began to ask herself. It could be a trick. I cannot see them, after all.
Ma Yu watched as she slowly rose to her feet from behind the rock, and understood that her suspicions were aroused. If she realised it was all a lie and attacked, he would no doubt escape unscathed, but Khojin would certainly be sacrificed, as would some of the Freaks. Quick thinking was not his strong point, and, at this moment, he had not the slightest idea what to do.
Zhu Cong caught sight of Mei’s long silver whip. She raised it slowly above her head. “Brother, you have been practising the Twenty-Four Secrets of the Golden Gate and Jade Lock, as passed down by our Great Master, for years now. You must be quite the expert. Will you show us? Perhaps we could learn a few tricks.”
“While I may be the eldest among us,” Ma Yu replied, understanding Zhu Cong’s plan, “I have been slow to absorb our Master’s deepest teachings – I can replicate only a fraction of the full repertoire. What do I have to show you, my brothers?” His breathing was deliberate as he used it to carry his words loud and clear t
o where Mei was standing. Though modest in content, each word shook the valley walls and echoed against the rocks, carried on the cliff winds like a dragon’s roar and eagle’s cry.
Mei recognised his powerful neigong inner strength and lowered herself back behind the rock.
“I heard that she is blind in both eyes and deserves our pity,” Ma Yu continued. “If she would promise to never again attack the innocent or cause trouble for the Six Freaks of the South, then we could let her go. Our Master was after all a good friend of the Lord of Peach Blossom Island. They held each other in great esteem. Brother Qiu, you are acquainted with the Freaks, why don’t you try to negotiate. Tell them to abandon their hopes of revenge. If everyone decides to forgive what is in the past, the feud will be over.” This time he spoke without the aid of his internal strength so as not to expose the Freaks as having lesser kung fu.
“Of course. But the real issue is whether Cyclone Mei will agree to a reconciliation,” Zhu Cong replied.
Just then a voice sharp and cold like ice came from behind the rock. “May I thank the Seven Masters of the Quanzhen Sect for their kindness. I am Cyclone Mei.” There she was.
Ma Yu had planned to frighten her away so that she could reflect on the matter by herself. But Iron Corpse was braver than he had given her credit for.
“As a lowly woman, I dare not seek advice from the Masters,” she continued. “But I have long heard that the Sage of Tranquillity is of consummate skill. May I ask that she shows me some of her moves?” She lifted her whip and waited for Jade Han’s reply.
Guo Jing, meanwhile, was still concerned about Khojin, who was now lying motionless on the ground. Unable to stand it any longer, he rushed over to her and swooped her up into his arms. But Mei heard him and hooked her claws around his wrist. Using the inner strength he had been cultivating under Ma Yu’s instructions, Guo Jing flicked Khojin towards Jade Han and, with a twist of his left hand, wrestled free. Mei responded quickly, seizing him again and pressing on his artery, paralysing him.
“Who are you?” she hissed.
“Harmony, be careful!” Zhu Cong called out.
Zhu Cong’s words had come just in time, as in his panic Guo Jing was about to give away his real identity.
“I . . . am Harmony Yin,” he stuttered. “Disciple of . . . Eternal Spring.” He had practised the phrase at least forty times, but still he could not get the words out smoothly.
A young follower, but his neigong is of note, Mei said to herself. He managed to save the girl and free himself from my grip. I’d better keep my distance. She snorted and let him go.
Guo Jing ran back to the others and examined the five indentations she had left in his flesh. She had not used all her strength – that much he understood. She could have snapped his hand off if she so desired.
Mei was now no longer so keen to fight with the Sage of Tranquillity. A thought came to her. “Elder Ma, could you explain to me what is meant by Conserve the Lead and Mercury of Immortality?”
“Lead is solid like the kidneys,” Ma Yu began, “and mercury flows like water, like the body’s internal heat. The principle of storing mercury and lead in the body in order to achieve immortality essentially means consolidating the kidneys and extinguishing the fires of the heart-mind, that is to say pent-up anger or worry. This can be achieved through breathing exercises.”
“And what about Three Splendours Gather at the Crown, Five Forces to the Origin? My Master, Lord of Peach Blossom Island, gave the most beautiful explanations. I am wondering what the Quanzhen Sect says.”
Ma Yu realised that she was asking him to explain the secrets of neigong inner strength kung fu. “Ask your own Master! Go, get out of here!”
Mei cackled. “Thank you, Elder Ma, for your wise reply.”
She lurched upwards, whipped the rock one last time and sailed off down the mountainside. It was a marvellous, terrifying sight.
They watched in relief as the cloud of black smoke sped across the desert sands. The witch was far away now, but they could not shake their fear quite so fast.
Ma Yu pressed on Khojin’s pressure points and she came to life. They then laid her out on the rock so that she could recover.
“I never imagined she would be able to make such progress in just ten years,” Zhu Cong said. “We Freaks would have encountered a terrible fate indeed had it not been for Elder Ma’s generous help.”
Ma Yu made a humble reply but his brow was furrowed and he could not hide his worry.
“While we may not have the greatest skills,” Zhu Cong continued, “if there is anything Elder Ma would like us to do, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“That witch caught me in a moment of inattention,” Ma Yu replied.
“Did she injure you? Did she use some secret weapon?”
“No, no, nothing like that. It is that I fear the answer I gave to her questions will bring great trouble.”
The Freaks were confused.
“Iron Corpse has achieved great heights in her external kung fu techniques. Even if my martial brothers Qiu Chuji and Jade Sun Wang Chuyi had been here to help, I doubt we could have defeated her. This only proves the exceptional talents of her Master, Lord of Peach Blossom Island. But it is her neigong inner kung fu that is lacking. I don’t know where she managed to find the secret formulas of Taoist neigong practice, but she will be unable to comprehend them without the instructions of a shifu. Her lack of understanding has kept her progress to date in check, but I fear that my explanation will allow her to make considerable advancements.”
“Or perhaps she will realise her mistake and stop this evil,” Jade Han said.
“Let us hope so, or else it will prove even more difficult to stop her. It is all my fault for letting down my guard.” He paused for a moment and continued. “But the skills taught on Peach Blossom Island are very different to those of the Quanzhen. How did she know to ask those questions?”
The others stopped and noticed as Khojin began to stir. She sat up and spoke. “Guo Jing, Papa didn’t believe me. He’s gone to visit Ong Khan.”
“How could he not believe you?” Guo Jing cried.
“I told him that Uncle Senggum and Uncle Jamuka were plotting against him, but he laughed and said that I was just trying to get out of marrying Tusakha, and that I was lying. I said that you were the one who heard them and that made him even more suspicious. He said he would punish you on his return. He took three of my brothers and some of his men. I came to find you but that blind woman captured me. Did she bring me to you?”
You are lucky we were here, the Freaks thought to themselves, otherwise you would have five holes in your head by now.
“When did the Great Khan leave?” Guo Jing demanded.
“Hours ago. Papa wanted to get there as soon as possible. He didn’t want to wait for morning, so they took their fastest horses. They must be very far away by now. Does Uncle Senggum really want to hurt Papa? What are we going to do?” She started crying. Guo Jing did not know what to say; it was the first time he had ever had to deal with a crisis of this magnitude.
“Guo, go back down the cliff, get your horse and ride out after the Khan,” Zhu Cong said, taking charge. “We will send someone to determine what is going on. Khojin, you go and ask your remaining brothers to gather their men and go after your father.”
Guo Jing was already making his way down the cliff face. Ma Yu lowered Khojin on a rope.
Guo Jing hurried back to his mother’s ger, mounted his little auburn horse Ulaan and set off northwards. The morning sun’s first rays were drowning out the moon. His heart was racing as fast as his steed’s hooves against the dirt. What if the Great Khan has already fallen prey to Senggum’s trap? he thought to himself. What if I’m too late?
Guo Jing’s horse loved to gallop, to feel its hooves pounding through the dust. Guo Jing tried to stop for a rest, fearing that it might stumble from fatigue, but as soon as he loosened the reins, it neighed and picked up speed again. The colt kept a steady
breath and ran with no apparent effort.
Guo Jing was able to ride like this for hours due to his inner strength kung fu training. Three hours had passed when he spotted three ranks lined up further ahead. There must have been at least three thousand men.
He rode closer. Ong Khan’s banner. The men stood with arrows drawn, swords ready. They are blocking the road, Guo Jing said to himself. The Khan must be up ahead.
He squeezed his thighs and the horse shot on. He heard shouts and the drumming of hooves, but Guo Jing was already past them and gone.
Up ahead he could see another three companies of men lying in ambush. Further on in the distance, the white hairs of Temujin’s banner were edging on northwards, accompanied by several hundred men on horses. Guo Jing pushed onwards and drew up beside the Khan himself.
“Great Khan, you must turn around!”
Temujin stopped in surprise. “Why?”
Guo Jing repeated to the Khan all that he had overheard in Senggum’s ger the previous evening, adding that the road behind him had been blocked. Temujin surveyed the boy with scepticism, trying to work out if it was a trick. Senggum had always been hostile, it was true, but his adoptive father Ong Khan put great trust in him. And how could his anda Jamuka plot against him? Unless this was the work of the Sixth Prince of the Jin Empire, sowing discord among the Mongols?
“Great Khan, if you send someone back, you will know I am telling the truth.”
Temujin had survived incalculable battles, he was raised on plot and intrigue. The chances that Ong Khan and Jamuka were betraying him were slim, but something nevertheless told him he should be careful. It never hurt anyone to be too cautious . . . He turned to his second son Chagatai and ordered that he and Tchila’un should turn back to survey the situation. “Find out if the boy is right!”
They swung their horses around and sped away.
Temujin looked out across the land. “Take that hill and prepare!” He may have only had a few hundred men with him, but they were his best fighters. They galloped up to high ground and started moving stones and digging trenches.
