by Yan LeiSheng
“The master chose my name from this poem. Can you read, miss? Please tell me the master isn’t making fun of me!”
Seeing how this slave was treated and hearing her speak of her master, the young woman had the feeling that he was a good man, which only confused her more. Who could he be? Why had he saved her life?
As Shao Jun pondered, the young slave grew impatient, worried that she would be told her name was not in the poem after all.
“I know,” she grumbled, “the master is teasing me again, as usual!”
The young woman started out of her reverie and focused on Su Shi’s poem, written in a neat, careful script on the wall scroll:
A range in panorama, peaks if viewed from the side. The true face of Mount Lu is unknowable; in its mist of snow, we are lost in the heart of the place itself.
“There it is!” she exclaimed. “Your name really is in the poem!”
“Really? So, the master didn’t lie to me! So that means the names of Duojin ‘Brocade button’, Xunfang ‘Fragrant quest’, and Yaoqin ‘Jade zither’ must also have come from poems. The master knows so many things!”
Shao Jun couldn’t hold back a small laugh. You didn’t need to be a great scholar to read a few characters here and there… But in her innocent naiveté, the young girl was full of excitement.
“Miss, please, can you show me where Xunfang’s name is written?”
The four walls were covered in calligraphy, all written in an extremely definite, regular script with no emphasis or strange cursive sections. The former imperial favorite followed the young slave’s finger towards a four-verse poem:
After all these years my soldier’s uniform lies covered in dust; I now climb the blue mountain driven by a fragrant quest; never do I allow myself to contemplate the waters and peaks; urging my horse on, the moon lights my return.
Most of these scrolls had no title. But this one read: Drunk under the moon, Hermit Who Touches the Clouds wrote these lines in memory of General Yue Fei.
“Oh! So, your master is nicknamed ‘Hermit Who Touches the Clouds’?”
“I don’t know, but he wrote these calligraphies. The characters on this scroll are drafts, I prefer the ones with cleaner edges.”
Shao Jun hadn’t studied the classics, but she had read some passages; her masters had represented the elite of their time, particularly Wang Yangming, who was a Confucian scholar of the highest rank. She had therefore heard of General Yue Fei of the Song dynasty, who had fought for his emperor with such loyalty that a temple had been erected in his honor after his death. But the story had been somewhat forgotten, and poems in his honor were rare. So, it seemed strange to name a slave based on one of them.
Except for this scroll, written in a drunken state with a light and loose hand, all the works displayed in this office, which seemed to be study drafts, had been written carefully and definitely. This Hermit Who Touches the Clouds had to be some kind of great ascetic to produce such invariably neat work. Shao Jun would have liked to know what he was thinking, supposing that he was her host.
“Yanfei, why did your master name you after a poem honoring General Yue Fei?”
“Oh, you know Yue Fei? You are so cultured, miss! The master displayed his poems here because he holds him in such esteem.”
Shao Jun was stunned. She had been completely unaware that General Yue Fei, known for his martial prowess, had also composed poetry. As her education had been managed by Zhu Jiuyuan and he didn’t like to read aloud, she had considerable gaps in the areas of literature and poetry.
This Hermit Who Touches the Clouds must be a very refined man, Shao Jun thought as she looked at the white walls covered in his calligraphy. She could see a large flowering pagoda tree through the large windows that were partly open to reduce the ambient heat.
“Yanfei,” she frowned, “what is your master’s name?”
“Oh, I don’t know, miss! I thought that y- you knew it.”
“You don’t know your master’s name?”
“No, I just call him ‘master’.”
Yanfei reminded Shao Jun of her years spent in the palace, where it was greatly frowned upon to speak or ask the Emperor’s name, instead simply referring to him as “His Majesty”. Even when she became an imperial concubine the young woman had never known his real name, Zhu Houzhao, only the name he had taken for his reign: Zhengde.
“In that case, could you take me to him?”
The young girl’s eyes grew round. “But, miss, aren’t you hurt?”
“No, I’m better now!”
To support her affirmation, she got up and moved her limbs, surprised that even her shoulder, despite being stabbed then hit with a club, didn’t cause her pain – it just felt cold. While running and jumping were out of the question, the ginseng tea had returned her strength. For Yanfei, who had seen her arrive unconscious several days before, her rapid recovery was incredible.
“When you arrived here two days ago, the master asked for you to be left alone to rest. He said that your injury was serious and that he would see you when you were better.”
“I’ve been here for two days?”
“Yes. The master brought you here the night before yesterday, and you slept all day yesterday.”
Two days! So much must have happened while she was unconscious. Where could she find Chen Xijian? Did he still have the jade pendant? She couldn’t lie around here and do nothing any longer.
“I need to speak to your master straight away,” she said. “It can’t wait. Where is he?”
“He spends the day in the shade on the Greenfinch terrace.”
“How do I find him?”
“Just go down and follow the path until the Prince’s Pond. From there you’ll see the Greenfinch, it’s a stone boat. But it’s late, you should rest…”
The young girl hadn’t expected that Shao Jun would really go, so she panicked when she saw the older woman heading for the door before she’d even finished speaking. Desperate, she grabbed her sleeve, then stood in front of the door to block the way. It was useless of course, as the former imperial favorite passed her in the blink of an eye despite her injured shoulder, and was soon down the stairs and out of the building. When she reached the outer door, she saw that the residence was surrounded enchanting gardens full of trees and flowers. As night had already fallen, she hesitated for a moment before walking up the winding narrow path through the garden, but quickly made her decision. She’d already lost two days. Behind her, the small slave, unable to keep up with her strides, begged her not to go.
If Zhang Yong got hold of the pendant that Chen Xijian had managed to steal, he would send his men to the Temple of the Jade of the Five Virtues and extinguish the last hope of ever seeing the Brotherhood rise from the ashes. Shao Jun had to find the master of this place as quickly as possible to find out more about her current situation, then take urgent action without any further delay, regardless of the risks.
Residential gardens usually only covered several acres, but the path was so winding that Shao Jun, slowed even further by the darkness, felt like she was walking a significant distance. Then, after yet another bend, the sparkling surface of a body of water covered in fragrant lotuses suddenly appeared. A small group of people stood on a stone terrace shaped like a boat protruding out into the water. On what appeared to be a small stage, two people moved to the melody of the pipa that the breeze carried intermittently to Shao Jun’s ears. It must be a play.
Under the Yuan dynasty, a golden era for zaju opera, plays were performed in every town, and it wasn’t unusual for Jiangnan nobles to build private theatres on their properties, as the Hermit Who Touches the Clouds had clearly done. As she walked along the lake shore, Shao Jun wondered how to approach her host without putting herself in danger or causing a scandal.
When she was close enough to see them, she saw that the two actors wore
ordinary clothes rather than theatre costumes. What’s more, for the combat scene they were currently performing, they used sticks of ash instead of stage weapons. Shao Jun also noticed that they used real attack and defense techniques, meaning they had been trained in martial arts. Behind them sat a beautiful and elegantly dressed pipa player, a wizened old man, and… the young lord who had struck Shao Jun two nights before!
Completely perplexed, she remained rooted to the spot.
“Who goes there?” called a voice behind her.
The young woman looked behind her without turning.
She had been seen by two large young men who held their sticks horizontally behind their heads, as they often did in the army. Many military martial arts techniques began from this position, such as Golden scissors, a paired attack where the two attackers crossed their weapons to better corner their prey. Adopting this position, the two men were threatening and ready to fight.
But they didn’t expect Shao Jun to leap towards them in a flash and hit the upper “scissor blade” as she flew through the air, sending both sticks flying to the ground. She could have knocked them both out if she had wanted to, but she had no intention of fighting. However, before she had a chance to speak, she noticed a new attack coming from behind.
The two fighters exchanging theatrical blows on the stage on the Greenfinch veranda had jumped to the bottom of the terrace, using their momentum to execute their own Golden scissors attack. While they were much more skilled than the previous two, Shao Jun was able to free herself with a kick. The actors attacked again, allowing her no respite, while the first two aggressors, startled out of their stupor, pressed their own offence. When the young woman dodged all the blows at the same time, the four sticks hit one another with enough force that they broke. She was almost injured by the flying pieces of wood.
Alerted by the noise, the old man sitting on the terrace suddenly stood. This skill of this intruder who had appeared from nowhere worried him. As long as it wasn’t an assassin… Just as he seemed ready to join the fight, the young lord shouted out.
“Stop! Let her approach!”
When he stood, the refined young noble looked as tall and imposing as a mountain. His authority had immediately cooled the tempers of the fighters, two of whom had descended from the stage and now felt embarrassed at having been beaten so easily – and by a woman no less – despite flaunting their talents only moments earlier. The lord ignored them completely as he addressed Shao Jun with a warm smile.
“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed as if speaking to an old friend. “Has your wound healed?”
“But who are you?” she retorted.
The old man began to protest at this lack of respect, but the young noble gestured at him to stop.
“I was planning to introduce myself when you were better,” he responded. “Your arrival surprised us, but please know that you are safe here. But you will have to fight me first if you want more information than that.”
A rack at the edge of the platform held wooden training weapons. The young lord took an ash stick, then hefted a bamboo cane, and, after judging it sufficiently light for Shao Jun to wield despite her injury, held it out to her.
“Take it.”
“What kind of person are you?”
“Fight me and I’ll answer your question.”
He untied his belt to remove his outer robe as the young woman silently railed at him, her amazement having given way to a sudden burst of anger. This arrogant man who had surely never seen anything of the world thought that she couldn’t hurt him with a bamboo cane? When he had hit her on the boat, she had been exhausted from her run, the blocking of her pressure points, stress and blood loss, but tonight it would be very different. While she wasn’t on top form because of her shoulder, her mind was clear. In addition, she could wield weapons equally well in either hand, and her agility allowed her to compensate for her slight handicap. No, she wouldn’t have any trouble overcoming this pompous noble, soft from living in luxury.
That said, she still didn’t understand his motivation, which disturbed her. The young lord had treated her and left her to the care of an apparently unsuspecting Yanfei. Free of his robe, he wore only a short vest whose shimmering fabric reminded Shao Jun of her time at the imperial palace. But now he was ready to fight, weapon in hand, his eyes became as piercing as a cat’s. His body tense with a seemingly fierce desire to kill, he was completely different from before. The young woman had the feeling he didn’t have any regrets about hitting her two nights before, and that he would happily do it again. Perhaps this duel would be more intense than she had expected.
But just as she climbed onto the stage, she heard someone running up behind her.
“Who goes there?” called the two men patrolling the shore.
“It’s me!” replied a high voice. “Master, it’s Yanfei!”
The slave had followed Shao Jun all the way to the lake. Even though her feet weren’t bound, she had learned to walk in the feminine way that was fashionable at the time, with short, hesitant steps, so she was now out of breath and her face was red as beetroot.
“Master, the lady wanted to come and see you and I- I couldn’t stop her!” she cried.
“Hahaha!” the beautiful pipa player laughed, soon followed by the young lord, whose fierce focus had clearly been cooled by this unexpected interruption.
“It’s fine, Yanfei,” he said to his servant. “I simply couldn’t wait to go up against the person who beat the Snake!”
“He knows I killed Wei Bin!” Shao Jun almost exclaimed aloud. Her mind buzzed. What did this mean? But she didn’t have time to think, as the young lord turned and pointed his ash baton at her, inviting her to take up a fighting stance. Their exchange could now begin. He wielded his weapon in the Armies of the Emperor Qin waving their flags in six directions style, but kept his right arm pressed against his body instead of using both hand as he should have done to balance out the opposing forces – yin and yang, fire and water – on which this technique depended. Shao Jun wondered why her opponent deprived himself of half of the advantages at his disposal. When she launched her first attack, she moved her left foot slightly in front of her right to pivot, avoiding the attack as she responded with her own. Even though she held her weapon in her left hand and was only at three-fourths of her normal capabilities, her level was still exceptional, and far above that of the first fighters. But she still needed to win this duel quickly, because she would tire fast in her current state. She had to move in closer because his ash baton was longer than her bamboo cane, but that wasn’t a problem: her agility was made for this style of combat. When the young noble launched a new assault, she dodged and took advantage as he brought his baton back toward him – a mistake that no expert would make – to move forward and hit his wrist with four lightning-fast strikes of her cane.
The young woman was unaware, but her opponent had had the opportunity to measure himself against Wei Bin in the last year, who had beaten him flat in just three or four moves. Experiences like this are part of the learning undergone by any kung-fu fighter whose skill has not yet reached its height, and he was absolutely determined to face the one who had beaten the Snake. After all, losing to a peerless opponent was far more satisfying than an easy victory. And he was now in a difficult position. He needed to move forward to gain the upper hand, but any attempt to make even the smallest half-step was immediately rebutted by an attack he had to hurry to counter. He thought he was done when a particularly energetic blow sent his baton flying off to the right of the platform, but he rushed to catch it by the other end – fortunately for him, this weapon could be wielded either way round. He began to spin it in his hands; it almost seemed to multiply as it spun faster and faster.
Shao Jun was impressed with this level of skill. She hadn’t strictly been trained in the use of the baton, but during their training sessions Master Zhu had briefly
mentioned the Six directions, which resulted from the progressive development of the Pear blossom spear technique originally invented by Yang Miaozhan when she commanded the Red Coat army. This remarkable woman, whose kung-fu was greater even than that of her husband, the exceptional Li Quan, liked to say that no warrior under the sky could counter the soldiers she trained. When executed perfectly, this technique inspired by the movement of pear blossoms in the wind could make it seem as if the user wielded seven batons at once. The young lord only achieved three or four illusory weapons, perhaps because he refused to use both arms, but it was enough to cause Shao Jun problems.
Clack! The cane collided with the end of the baton, whose three or four ends immediately dissipated. The young woman seized the opportunity to force her adversary into close combat where he soon found himself in difficulty, unable to execute a series of moves freely. He was soon forced to descend from the platform. But if he had used both arms, he would have had a good chance of winning the duel. Was he also injured on his right arm? He seemed like he would prefer to lose rather than use his free hand. In this situation, Shao Jun didn’t have the heart to beat him down, so she took a step back and said, “Lord, you’ll never win against me if you wield your baton with only one hand, use both!”
“It’s true, master…” added the old man from the side, who had up until now refrained from intervening so as to avoid the noble losing face.
His pride injured; the young man reddened. He was much less arrogant than when he began his challenge. The situation had got away from him, his Pear blossom spear had been defeated, and he owed his health to his opponent’s mercy, after she refused to finish him despite leaving him as vulnerable as a sacrificial lamb on the altar.
“Be quiet!” he shouted at the old man. “Or you’ll taste my Three revelations of the baton!”
