by Jin Yong
Tree said calmly, "As the matter now stands, there is no point in fussing and worrying over details. Let us be open and frank with each other. And putting our heads together, we may perhaps find a way down the mountain. If we harass and fight each other, we will die as sure as if we had marched right into the snare of Fox Volant of the Snowy Mountain." The Company assembled applauded their assent, and then sat around in a circle.
By then the mountain was growing increasingly colder. The steward ordered more firewood and coal be brought in for the brazier. Everybody was attentive.
Tree held up his covered tea bowl. He took a sip and exclaimed, "The tea is superb!" Then he continued, "The tale is a very long one. Shall we first find out whether the poniard is still in good condition?" The rest acclaimed this suggestion. Tree passed Curio the iron case, requesting, "Your Honour, as the Grand Master of the Northern Branch of the Dragon Lodge, please undo the casket so all present can look inside."
Curio recalled the scene when Peace darted barbs from the box, wounding and dispatching several people. He intended to take care, lest some secret weapons might spring forth. He took the metal container with both hands, but did not dare lift its lid. Tree studied him intently, laughing but withholding his comments.
The outermost part of the metal box was encrusted with rust interspersed with variegated mottled streaks. The metal itself was savagely eroded, giving it a rough and uneven appearance. It had to be over one hundred years old; and there was nothing particularly unusual about the casket itself.
Curio thought to himself, "If I do not venture to open the casket, I shall be looked down upon by that knave Peace." Clenching his teeth and reaching out his right hand, Curio attempted to force the top open. He was surprised that, after much manoeuvring, the lid showed no sign of giving way. He scrutinized the casket and detected no sign of a keyhole, trigger, or catch. Curio wondered why he had failed to open the casket. Thereupon, he doubled the strength in both of his hands. Still the box remained stubbornly closed, yielding not at all, as if the container had been cast from one solid metal block.
Sign stole a glance at Curio who was puffing in anger and red to his roots. Sign was positive that there was some mechanical contrivance about the box. A hero's strength would be wasted in attempting to force it open and one might end up getting hurt in the end. Thereupon, Sign turned to Radiant, whispering in his ears, "Brother Radiant, why do you not take over?" Radiant looked grave and hesitant. "I ... I do not think I...." he muttered. Sign took the metal casket from Curio, placed it in Radiant's hands, imploring him thus, "I am sure you can do it."
Radiant looked angrily at her. He laid the box on the teapoy. Then he felt the top of the box. Instead of forcing it open upward, he touched the four corners in sequence thrice. Pivoting the underside of the box at its centre with his thumb, Radiant gave it a slight push. Instantly the lid opened with a metallic twang.
Valour and Curio both eyed him angrily, reflecting to themselves, "How come you know how to open the box?" They turned immediately to the container. Inside was indeed a poniard, sheathed in a scabbard, at the sight of which, Curio let out a cry. It was the same poniard wielded by his Master years before. His late Master had cleft the weapons of countless heroes and adept fighters with this very poniard.
Tree picked it up. Pointing to the rows of inscriptions engraved on the sheath, he cried out, "Come and take a look." The scabbard was encrusted with verdigris. The blade was adorned with a red gemstone. Otherwise, it was no more than a nondescript blade. The inscriptions engraved on the sheath read:
Killing Any Man Is Like Murdering
My Own Father.
Debauching Any Woman Is Like Violating
My Own Mother.
The meaning of these words was quite straightforward and easy to comprehend, yet they carried a spirit bold and audacious, vividly portrayed, almost darting from the scabbard.
Tree asked, "Does anybody know the story behind these inscriptions?" All answered in the negative. Tree then proceeded, "This is the military decree handed down from Li Zicheng, the Dashing King. This poniard here is the very weapon wielded by the Dashing King when commanding his millions of troops to create battlefields across the kingdom."
At this point the Company all rose from their seats. They fixed their gaze on the poniard resting now in Tree's uplifted hand, pondering on the validity of Tree's claim. The Dashing King had passed away a hundred or so years before, and yet the outlawry still spoke of him with awe. He could still inspire terror and veneration. Tree then turned the scabbard round and said pompously, "If you still have doubts, please read what is on this side." The inscription "Entrusted by the Heavenly Mandate to Advocate Righteousness" was engraved on the other side of the sheath. Tree continued, "The sobriquet of the then Dashing King was Generalissimo of the Heavenly Mandate to Advocate Righteousness." Only after hearing this did the Company assembled seem to be convinced.
Tree then added, "One year bandits on horseback from ninety-eight strongholds and bandit-chiefs from twenty-four stockades pledged an uprising and Li was elected Generalissimo by popular mandate. Later he proclaimed himself the Dashing King. In the course of battling for ten years or so, Li succeeded in besieging and capturing Peking, ushering in the Dashun Dynasty. The hereditary Emperor Chongzhen was forced to take his own life, hanging himself on Mount Coal. If Wu Sangui had not been a traitor to the Hans by shepherding in the Manchu army from beyond the Pass, the entire kingdom would certainly have come under the sway of Li. The Dashing King was the most awe-inspiring of hero bandits and outlaws; none ever surpassed him." Tree continued with a sigh, "It was ill-fated that his hard-wrought deeds were destined to be short-lived. They all vanished in no time. The Dashing King besieged Peking in the third month, of the seventeenth year of the reign of Emperor Chongzhen. He mobilized his troops to encounter the Manchu army beyond the capital in the fourth month. But his forces were taken in less than a month, forcing his soldiers to flee westwards. Then, the chequered fate of the country passed to the hands of the nomadic Tartars from northwest Manchuria."
Hawk looked in outrage at the old monk, reflecting to himself, "He is really bold, dabbling in seditious sermons."
Tree put the poniard carefully back in the casket, saying, "Later, both the Dashing King and Wu were sorely wounded in a raging battle. Li retreated from Peking, the capital, and fled westward, traversing the Provinces of Shanxi and Shaanxi. Wu and the Manchu army trailed in close pursuit, forcing Li to turn southward, withdrawing to Henan, Hubei, and Hunan, and eventually retiring south to Guangdong and Guangxi. The military leaders and petty officers eliminated each other in the goriest of fights, while the remaining troops fled to the four corners of the country. Li retreated to Jiugong Mountain in Tongshan County of Wuchang Prefecture. The Dashing King was stranded and hemmed in on all sides by his enemies. After a bold resistance and several weak counter-attacks, Li was routed by the enemies. Alas, the hero's race was run."
"The Dashing King had four myrmidons, all paragons in martial arts, courageous and daring, who would devote their last drop of blood to their Master. These four henchmen bore the surnames Hu, Miao, Fan and Tian. They were known to the soldiers by these last names."
At the mention of the four surnames Hu, Miao, Fan and Tian, Fortune, Sign and the others immediately realized that the four myrmidons must be connected with the matter at hand. Sign cast Orchid a sidelong glance; she was poking the coal in the brazier gently with a pair of tongs, deep in thought. Her snowy white cheeks were lightly illuminated by the warmth of the blaze.
"Risking their lives for the Dashing King, the four myrmidons had gone beyond the call of duty." Tree continued his tale, lifting up his face and gazing at the roof. "They had undertaken many tasks, both difficult and dark, and many a time had saved Li by a hair's breadth. They were his trusted sentries and the sharers of his secrets. Of these four myrmidons, Hu proved himself the fighter's fighter, whose martial ability outshone the other three. He was also by far the most
capable. He was given the sobriquet Lynx of the Sky by the troops of the Dashing King." At this, all present let out a cry.
They listened, rapt with upturned, attentive faces, waiting for Tree to pick up the tale. "The situation was fraught with danger when Li was hemmed in on Jiugong Mountain. Every single soul dispatched down the mountain for reinforcements met the same fate. They were waylaid and executed by the adversaries. In the end the Dashing King had to resort to charging Miao, Fan and Tian with the mission of obtaining reinforcements. These three myrmidons fought their way out in the dark to bring in support. Hu alone stayed behind to protect the Dashing King. When the three myrmidons marched back with troops for a counter-attack, it was too late: the Dashing King had already been dealt with.
"The three myrmidons wept bitterly. Fan wanted to slit his own throat instantaneously to sacrifice his life for his Master, but was held back by the two others, professing that wreaking vengeance for this blood feud should be their first priority. The three then conducted exhaustive enquiries in the environs of Jiugong Mountain, hoping to shed more light on details surrounding the circumstances of Li's death, for he had died as a martyr for the country. Hu, the myrmidon, apparently still alive and on the run, was an accomplished fighter, insurmountable under the sky. He was wise and resourceful. The three remaining myrmidons now needed him desperately to take charge of the situation before they could embark on retaliating and seeking vengeance for their Master. Thus spurred on, they set out in quest of Hu.
"The story among the forefathers of the outlawry had it that from generation to generation this quest brought on towering waves. Miao, Fan and Tian each detailed to their children a meticulous rendition of the scene they witnessed on that memorable day, also laying down rules to be strictly observed by the clansman that the same rendition be handed down to the progeny. Offspring of each succeeding generation of these three families were to take up the cause of their ancestors."
At this, Tree gave Orchid a serious look, remarking, "This monk is not one of your coterie. I therefore understood only the outline. If Miss Miao would consent to divulge more, I am sure we shall be more enlightened." The group assembled reflected to themselves, "Phoenix the father and Miss Miao the daughter are offspring of Miao the myrmidon."
* * *
Orchid started to tell her story, fixing her gaze on the brazier: "One evening, at the age of seven, I saw father sharpening and burnishing his backsword. I was scared by the sight of the sharp-edged weapon and I implored father not to wield it, but to put it away. Father told me he had to take one more life with this blade before he could lock it up for ever. I clasped my arms around his neck, entreating him not to kill anybody. There and then he poured forth the details of an incident.
"My father took me a long way back to the time when the serfs were living in a state of destitution, in want of food and clothing. They were crying out for food as they subsisted only upon bark and roots that animals eat. After this provender had all been devoured, they subsisted on mud and soil. Many died of hunger. Mothers, deprived of food, failed to give milk, starving many young at their breast. Nonetheless, the government officials were hard about extorting tithes and fines from the tenants and the landowners pressed the deprived for their dues and rents which were owed. Many serfs who failed their obligations were either sentenced to death by the official administrators or thrown into jail by the rich landlords. My father taught me a poem, written by a young gentleman, who was reputed a literary man and an accomplished martial artist. Would you like to listen to his verse?"
"We are all attentive," the Company replied. When she reached the part "reputed a literary man and an accomplished martial artist", Tree knew immediately she was referring to Li Yan, an army general of the Dashing King. Orchid then proceeded to pour forth the lines,
For years locusts and demons of drought devastated the land,
Scourging rice seedlings and young ears on the stalks, blighting all crops.
Rates for barter-staple soared, jumping in folds by score and score.
The great mass of people over the country strove and starved,
Obliged to replenish themselves with grassy roots, herbs and leaves.
And children cried and whined, pouring themselves out on mother and father.
Cauldron, earthernware and cooking stove had long since lain unused.
Day in, day out, from morning till dawn, begging a meal was hard.
Officials were more ferocious than tigers in extorting tithes.
The wealthy and high-ranking, like jackals and wolves, were out hounding debts.
The masses were living on the edge and drawing their last breath.
Departed spirits went forth to the kingdom of Death,
Leaving heaps of scattered bones strewn high on derelict mounds.
Though they strove hard as they might not to stare death in the face,
None could refrain from shedding tears through those miserable years.
And fear dripped from eyes, transforming them with a rusty dye.
Although the country was now enjoying peace and prosperity half way through the reign of Emperor Qianlong, floods and droughts infested the country annually, imposing considerable hardship on the common people. They had to strive hard to secure a living. The group assembled listened intently to every syllable and line delivered by Orchid. She enunciated the words in a perfect tone and her voice was compellingly melancholic, affecting all present. It had awakened a chord of memory, about the trouble they had been through among the Martial Brotherhood, the thoughts of which made them shudder.
Orchid then continued her story: "My father's story goes that in the end the common people broke down under these hardships. They could not bear the yoke any more. A great hero emerged at long last, marshalling the masses to besiege the capital. By a stroke of bad luck, after the hero had ascended the throne, he proved a poor administrator of his country, committing blunders and ill-treating his people. The army officers under his command turned to killing and looting, forcing the masses to turn their backs now on the hero. However, the hero believed that the masses had found a new leader in the gentleman-fighter to whose poem you have just listened. Gripped by fear, he ordered to have this very son of the gentry slaughtered. This incident brought on towering waves, for his followers reacted violently, fermenting agitation. It was not long after that the hero had his own life ended at the hands of a traitor." Orchid heaved a sigh at this.
After pausing for a while, Orchid then continued, "His three myrmidons then set out in quest of the missing myrmidon, hoping he would take the matter into his own hands and wreak vengeance for the great hero."
"The Mandate by then had come under the sway of a nomadic tribe from Manchuria. A Manchu ascended the throne, proclaiming himself Emperor of the Qing Dynasty. The Emperor issued an edict, ordering the apprehension of the confederates of the deposed sovereign. The three myrmidons, no longer able to go into hiding, fled in disguise. One dressed up as a feldsher, a quack practioner hawking herbal drugs and medicinal concoctions. One went in the disguise of a pauper, begging alms. The remaining myrmidon, being the strongest of the three, disguised himself as a sham porter. The four myrmidons, pledging themselves in a sworn Brotherhood, had remained with each other through thick and thin for several decades, tending to each other with great devotion. Their attachment was fused closer than natural brothers. The three remaining myrmidons constantly had their lost sworn Brother on their minds; they missed him dreadfully. Thus they travelled far and wide over the country in search of him. But their efforts proved futile. When their quest was nearing the end of the eighth year, they began to harbour the thought that the missing myrmidon might have been slain in defending the great hero. The three myrmidons were grief-stricken."
The assembly was following Orchid's narration intently. She had adopted a tone of delivery as if she were telling a story to a group of small children. She must have imitated the tone characterized by her father in bygone days. The Company present r
emarked to themselves, "It is said that, though the sobriquet Gilt-faced Buddha contained the adjunct Buddha, the man himself is not kind and benevolent. He was known as a cruel and furious fighter, abhorring all evil as a deadly foe. Yet it seems he was a surprisingly affectionate and loving father."
Orchid took up her story again at this point: "A few years had elapsed and the three myrmidons decided not to continue their quest for the missing sworn Brother. As the traitorous villain who had taken the life of the great hero, having been made a Feudatory Prince, was now enjoying his fortune and happiness in the southwestern border province of Yunnan, the three myrmidons, after serious consultation, decided to journey southwest and stab the traitorous villain to death. Immediately they set out on the journey, embarking on their mission of wreaking vengeance for the great hero and for their sworn Brother."
The two Brothers-at-arms, Hawk and Prime, exchanged glances. They knew the traitorous villain to whom she was alluding was Wu Sangui, who had been conferred the title "Prince Who Pacifies the West" and bestowed a principality in a region bordering the southwest of the kingdom.
Orchid again continued from where she had left off: "The three myrmidons soon found themselves in Kunming, capital city of Yunnan province. They were cautiously reconnoitring the vicinity of the traitor's residence. On the night of the fifth day of the third moon, the three myrmidons leapt over the walls of the big house, all armed with swords and secret weapons. The traitor had his mansion closely guarded round the clock. A sentry caught all three red-handed the moment they touched the ground. A battle ensued. The three myrmidons who fought fast and furious slew or wounded some twenty sentries in a trice, throwing themselves off the sentries barring their way. They dashed headlong into the bed-chamber, counting on capturing the traitor on the spot, for he was now surrounded. Suddenly a man bounded from the side, shielding the front of the traitor. The three myrmidons saw that this very sentry was the sworn Brother whom they had been seeking for years. The sworn Brother excelled them all in martial ability. He was shielding the traitor, not allowing them to touch him. Mixed feelings of shock and wrath filled the three myrmidons. There and then they engaged him in a battle. In no time, several tens of sentries rushed into the chamber, coming to his aid. Being far outnumbered by their opponents, the three myrmidons had to run for their lives. Unfortunately, the old sham porter was captured on the spot.
