by Jin Yong
The Mongolians had invaded China for almost a hundred years; they regarded the Han people lower than animals, only this kind of wantonly obscene and oppressive insult in broad daylight was actually extremely rare. The Ming Cult people’s eyes narrowed into slits; they were waiting for Zhang Wuji to issue an order and they would charge to kill the soldiers and rescue the women. Suddenly that young gentleman said, "Wu Liupo, tell them to release these women and stop deliberately making such trouble!” His voice was clear and tender, sounded like a female’s voice.
"Yes!” one of the men replied. He loosened one of the yellow horses tied on the willow tree, leaped up and landed on the horseback. He galloped forward while shouting, "Hey, you deliberately create trouble in broad daylight. Don’t you have a superior to control you? Quickly release these women!”
From among the Yuan soldiers one rider that looked like an officer came out. A young girl in his arm, his slanting eyes bleary, he laughed and said, "You are really impatient to die, sticking your nose into your master’s business!”
That man coldly said, "You are officers and soldiers, yet you act like bandits and robbers, without any compassion toward common people. Just do as I say!”
The officer sized up the people underneath the willow trees; he was slightly surprised at the audacity of this man. He mused in his heart that when commoners see soldiers, they usually would try to avoid them while they are still far away; could it be that these people had eaten a leopard’s gallbladder and a tiger’s heart that they dare to mess up the soldiers’ business? Sweeping his gaze he saw the young gentleman’s hat was inlaid with two shining bright, longan fruit size pearls. His greed arose; he smiled broadly and said, "Rabbit master [‘tu er xiang gong’ - ‘rabbit-like mister’, I don’t know how to translate this properly], come and follow your master! You will enjoy a lot of happiness!” Pressing his leg he urged his mount toward that young gentleman.
That young gentleman was initially indifferent; he did not show any anger looking at the Yuan soldiers’ atrocity. Yet as he heard this officer’s rudeness his handsome eyebrows slightly creased, he said, "Don’t let a single one of them live.”
As the word ‘live’ left his mouth, a ‘swish’ sound was heard, a feathered arrow shot out, creating a hole in the officer’s chest. The arrow was released by a man standing next to the gentleman. His shooting technique was not only fast, but very strong as well; not in the least bit inferior to an expert of the Wulin world. How could a common hunter have this kind of ability?
‘Swish, swish, swish!’ Arrow after arrow was shot; all eight hunters shot with great accuracy, not a single arrow missed its target, one arrow killed one Yuan soldier. Although this attack took the soldiers by surprise, they were all skilled in horseback riding and archery; with loud shouts they returned the attack by shooting arrows. The other seven hunters also mounted their horses and charged forward. Arrow after arrow, in a short moment they had killed about thirty Yuan soldiers. The rest of the soldiers understood their precarious situation; they whistled to each other, threw the women away, turned their horses around and ran away.
The eight hunters pressed their legs and their horses pursued with lightning speed. Eight arrows were shot and eight Yuan soldiers dropped down to the ground, dead. After about a ‘li’ the Mongolian soldiers were completely annihilated.
The young gentleman led his horse away, mounted it, and without turning his head he galloped away. It seemed like for him, giving order to kill more than fifty Mongolian soldiers was as ordinary as eating his rice; he did not even give it the slightest thought.
"Hey, hey!” Zhou Dian called out, "Wait! I want to ask you something!” The young gentleman did not pay him any attention; in a moment he and his eight hunters had gone far.
If Zhang Wuji, Wei Yixiao and the others really want to ask that young gentleman a question, they could use their ‘qing gong’ [lightness kungfu] and overtake the speeding horses; but after witnessing those eight hunters’ divine archery skill to annihilate the enemy they were impressed with their chivalry, their hearts were full of admiration, hence they felt it was inappropriate to press and offend those people. Everybody started to talk at once, but nobody knew these nine people’s origin.
Yang Xiao said, "That young gentleman is obviously a female wearing male clothes. Those eight men dressed as hunters were very respectful toward her. Their archery skill was divinely marvelous, but it did not look like archery skill of the people of the Central Plains.”
By this time Yang Buhui and the Thick Earth Flag members were busy consoling the women. It turned out that they were taken captive from the neighboring villages and small towns. Thereupon
the Ming Cult people searched the Yuan soldiers’ corpses and took any gold, silver and other valuables, and distributed it to the women and sent them home.
For the next several days the topic of discussion among the Ming Cult people was the nine people whose arrows obliterated the Yuan soldiers. They regretted the fact that they were unable to befriend those people. To Yang Xiao Zhou Dian said, "Yang Xiong [brother Yang], your daughter can be considered a beautiful woman, but I am afraid she falls short compared to that young lady dressed as a man.”
"Right, right!” Yang Xiao replied, "If they were willing to join our Cult, those eight hunters’ position would be above the Five Wanderers.”
"Your mother’s stinky fart! [this is one of those ‘weird-to-english-speakers’-ears’ stuff]” Zhou Dian was angry, "What’s so special about horse-riding skill? Just call them to have a contest with Zhou Dian.”
Yang Xiao hesitated a moment before replying, "Compared to Zhou Xiong [brother Zhou] they are slightly inferior, but talking about martial art skill, I think they are half a notch higher than Leng Qian Xiong [brother Leng Qian].”
The fact that among the Ming Cult’s Five Wanderers it’s a well known matter that Leng Qian’s martial art skill was the highest. Yang Xiao and Zhou Dian were always at each other’s throat. Although they no longer fought each other openly, Zhou Dian had never missed any opportunity to argue with Yang Xiao. This time hearing Yang Xiao said that the eight hunters’ martial art was higher than Leng Qian’s, in other words, he was looking down upon the Five Wanderers, Zhou Dian was angry. He was about to open his mouth to retort when Peng Yingyu laughed and said, "Zhou Xiong, again you fall into Left Emissary Yang’s trap. He was deliberately making you angry!”
Zhou Dian laughed a big laugh and said, "I am not angry; how can he make me angry?” But not too long afterwards he started to mutter how Yang Xiao’s riding skill was not so good. Everybody looked at each other and smiled.
Under daily medical care of Zhang Wuji, Yin Liting had begun to regain his consciousness. He said that when he left the Brightness Peak that day, his mind was so shaken that he was lost in the desert. He walked farther and farther away, groping his way on the yellow sand of the Gobi desert for eight, nine days. By the time he found the right direction he had lost contact with his Wudang martial art brothers. That day he unexpectedly ran into five Shaolin monks. Without saying anything these five monks suddenly attacked him. Their martial art skill was not weak; although Yin Liting managed to overthrow two of them, in the end he was still overwhelmed by sheer number and in the end had to suffer heavy injury. He said these five monks’ martial art was definitely Shaolin’s martial art, only he did not see them on the Brightness Peak; so they must be the reinforcement who came later. On why they attacked him violently, Yin Liting could not come with any plausible answer. One time or another Yin Liting had announced his name, so in no way would the monks mistake him for someone else.
Along the way Yang Buhui was taking a careful care of Yin Liting. She knew her parents had offended him; but her own compassion also grew because of his pitiful condition. That particular evening they arrived at Yongdeng. They urged their horses because they wanted to reach Jiangchengzi to spend the night there. While walking they suddenly heard horses’ hoofs; on the main road two riders were coming fast towa
rd them. When they got within a dozen ‘zhang’s, suddenly the two riders stopped their mounts and leaped down. Holding the horses’ reins they waited on the side of the road; their manners were really respectful. Those two riders were two of the eight hunters who annihilated the Yuan soldiers with their arrows earlier.
The Ming Cult people were delighted; one after another they dismounted their horses to greet the two hunters. The two hunters walked toward Zhang Wuji and bowed in respect. In a clear voice one of them said, "Our superior had long admired the Ming Cult’s Zhang Jiaozhu’s heroism and chivalry, along with his heroes and warriors. Xiao ren [little/lowly people] have received our superior’s order to invite all of you with sincerity and respect to take a rest at our village.”
Zhang Wuji returned the respect and said, "We do not dare, we do not dare! I wonder how shall we address your superior?”
That man replied, "Our superior’s surname is Zhao; but I do not dare to tell her name without her authorization.” Everyone was pleased they openly admitted that the young gentleman was actually a woman in disguise; indicating the sincerity of the invitation.
Zhang Wuji said, "Ever since we saw your divine archery skill, we have never cease to praise you every day; to be able to make friends with you is truly our good fortune. Only we do not want to impose.”
"You are all the heroes of this generation,” that man replied, "Our superior has admired you for a long time. Today you pass by our residence, how can it be that we do not offer you three cups of our insipid wine and chat with you to build friendship?”
Zhang Wuji wanted to know these warriors better, but he also wanted to inquire about the Yi Tian sword they saw earlier; therefore, he said, "If that’s the case, to refuse would be impolite; we’ll visit your village.”
The two hunters were delighted; they mounted their horses and led the way.
Less than a ‘li’ later two more riders came their way. They stopped some distance away and waited by the side of the road. They were also part of the ‘shen jian ba xiong’ [divine archer eight heroes]. Another ‘li’ later the last four members of the Divine Archer Eight Heroes also came to welcome them. The Ming Cult people were happy and feeling reassured in seeing the courtesy their host demonstrated.
Following a street made of green flagstones they arrived at the courtyard of a big manor. The manor was encircled by a small brook; the bank of the brook was full of green willow trees. To be able to see a Jiannan-like scenery in Gan Liang area, they felt refreshed.
The manor gate was wide open and a draw bridge was already lowered. The lady surnamed Zhao, still wearing a man’s clothes, stood at the gate, welcoming them. Miss Zhao stepped forward and saluted them. "The heroes and warriors of the Ming Cult’s visit to the Green Willow Manor today truly bring glory to us,” she said in a clear voice, "Zhang Jiaozhu, please! Left Emissary Yang, please! Yin Lao Qianbei [old senior Yin], please! Bat King Wei, please! .” She called out the Ming Cult’s people one by one. Not only did she know everybody’s name without anybody announcing it to her, but she also knew their respective position; not a single one was missed. Everybody was astonished.
Zhou Dian could not help but asked, "Miss, how did you know our names? Could it be that you know divination?”
Miss Zhao smiled and said, "The Ming Cult’s heroes are well-known in the Jianghu, who has not heard of them? In the recent battle of the Brightness Peak Zhang Jiaozhu, with his divine ability, has deterred the six major sects. This news has shaken the Wulin world. You are going east to the Central Plains; along the way I don’t know how many Wulin friends will give you admiring
receptions, how can this ‘xiao nuzi’ [lit. little/lowly woman] miss this opportunity?”
Everybody agreed with her and inwardly they were very pleased, but with their mouths they muttered some modest words. They turned toward the Divine Archer Eight Heroes, asking their names and martial art school. One big and tall man answered, "Subordinate is Zhao Yishang [lit. one injury]. This one is Qian Erbai [lit. two defeats]. This one is Sun Sanhui [lit. three destructions]. This one is Li Sicui [lit. four devastations].” Pointing to the other four men he continued, "That one is Zhou Wushu [lit. five loses]. That one is Wu Liupo [lit. six damages]. That one is Zheng Qimie [lit. seven extinguish], and the last one is Wang Bashuai [lit. eight feeble/weak].”
Hearing their names the Ming Cult people were dumbstruck. They recognized the eight men’s surnames were taken from the ‘bai jia xing’ [Book of Hundred Surnames], namely ‘Zhao Qian Sun Li, Zhou Wu Zheng Wang.” Not only it was very strange, but their given names were all unlucky. Take ‘Wang Bashuai’ for example; not even bandits and barbarians would think of such names.
But in the Jianghu world it was not uncommon that some people changed their names to avoid calamity or enmity; so nobody asked any further.
Miss Zhao personally led the way, taking everybody to the main hall. They saw in the main hall hung a large wooden tablet with ‘lu liu shan zhuang’ [Green Willow Villa] four characters engraved on it. In the middle of the hall there was a banner with Zhao Mengxiao’s poem:
The white rainbow [oxymoron, I know, but how do you translate ? ? ?] stood up to fly,
Green serpent roared inside the box,
Murderous frost at the edge of the blade,
The round moon just about to reach its apex.
Sword can tear the dragon on the outer sky,
Sword can charge against the sun,
Sword can slit the demon’s abdomen,
Sword can cut away the treacherous minister’s head.
Hiding to ward off the demon’s enchantment,
Do not frighten the consort.
Keep the sword to behead the scaly dragon,
Do not test it to strike the street dog.
At the end of the poem there was a small inscription, "Testing the precious Yitian Sword in the night, it was truly a treasured thing. I wrote the poem ‘shuo jian’ [lit. speaking about sword] in praise of it. Bianliang Zhao Min.”
Zhang Wuji’s calligraphy skill was not too good, but following the ‘shu jiu zhen lian’ [lit. vermillion nine real/true practice] character principle [Translator’s note: I am sure about this part], he was able to somewhat distinguish other people’s penmanship. Looking at the strokes of this poem he saw charm and tenderness, revealing the poem came from a female hand; so it must be this Miss Zhao’s handiwork. Other than medical book, he seldom read any other book; but the poem’s meaning was certainly not obscure. As soon as he read it he understood its meaning. He thought, "Turned out she is from Bianliang [modern day Kaifeng, previous capital of the Northern Song], and has a single character ‘Min’ as her name.” Thereupon he said, "Miss Zhao is well-versed in both literature and martial art [wen wu quan cai]; my utmost admiration. Turned out Miss belongs to the family of the former capital.”
That Miss Zhao, Zhao Min smiled and said, "Zhang Jiaozhu’s father was well-known as the ‘yin gou tie hua’ [Silver Hook Iron Stroke], a calligraphy expert. Zhang Jiaozhu received your educational background from your family, ‘xiao nuzi’ earnestly wants to see a poem from your hand.”
Upon hearing this Zhang Wuji’s face turned red; he lost his father when he was ten and had not learned penmanship from him. Afterwards he only learned medicine and martial art, so it could be said that his writing skill was superficial. "If Miss wants me to write,” he said, "That is the same as requesting my death. My late father departed too early; I haven’t learned anything from my father. I am really ashamed.”
While they were talking the Manor servants had already served tea. They noticed that inside the sky blue porcelain cups there were green and tender Longjing [city in Jilin] tea leaves floating around. A delicate fragrant greeted their nostrils. The warriors felt strange; this place was separated thousands of ‘li’s from Jiangnan, how could there be fresh Longjing tea leaves? In all aspects this Miss carried a mysterious aura around her.
Zhao Min was the first to take the cup with both hands and took a sip
before inviting everybody else to do the same. She said, "You have journeyed far, our village is simple and slow, so please forgive our lack of hospitality. Everybody please follow me to have some refreshments.” She stood up and led them passed a porch and a courtyard, toward a big garden. This garden was littered with unadorned mountain rocks and a plain creek pond in the middle; there were not too many flowers and plants, but the overall impression was elegance. Zhang Wuji did not have deep understanding of landscape architecture, but Yang Xiao silently nodded his head in approval. He thought the master of the garden was certainly not an uncouth person; inwardly he was full of admiration.
In the pavilion in the middle of the pond two banquet tables had already been prepared. Zhao Min invited Zhang Wuji and his entourage to take a seat. Zhao Yishang, Qian Erbai and the other Divine Archer Eight Heroes took the rest of the Ming Cult people to have their meals at another hall on the side. Yin Liting was unable to get up, so Yang Buhui attended to him in yet another room.
Zhao Min poured a big bowl of wine and took it in one gulp; she said, "This is the eighteen years old ‘nu zhen chen’ [old chaste maiden (or spinster)] wine from Shaoxing; please take a taste and tell me what you think?”
Although Yang Xiao, Wei Yixiao, Yin Tianzheng, and the others truly believed that this Miss was a young generation chivalrous heroine, they were still very careful. They looked at the wine pot and the wine cups and did not see anything unusual; besides, Miss Zhao had taken the first cup, so they chased their suspicion away and ate and drank with ease of mind.
