Heavenly Sword Dragon Slaying Saber Book 4

by Jin Yong

  "Honored guests came from afar and did not know that you have come at the right moment,” the attendant replied, "You will enjoy a fine sight, for tomorrow is the ‘Great Tour of Imperial City’ day.”

  "What is a ‘Great Tour of Imperial City’ day?” Zhang Wuji asked.

  The attendant replied, "Tomorrow is one day of the year when the Emperor will travel through the Imperial City. The Emperor is going to offer sacrifice and burn incense in the Qing Shou Si [Celebrate Life Temple], tens of thousands men and women will dress up in a parade, from start to finish the route is about thirty, forty ‘li’s long. Now, that will be a remarkable sight. I suggest the honored guests turn in to bed earlier tonight, and as you wake up really early tomorrow, go to the Jade Virtue Gate of the Palace to watch. If you are lucky, you might be able to see the Emperor, the Empress, the Concubines, the Prince and the Princess. Just think, as a lowly common people, how could we have the good fortune of seeing the Emperor with our own eyes if we weren’t living in Beijing [orig, Jing Shi]?”

  Listening to this, Han Lin’er anger rose up; "Shameless traitor! [Translator’s note: the literal translation of the original sentence is: ‘regarding the enemy as (one’s) father, shameless traitor to Han (people)]” he scolded, "What good is the Tartar Emperor?”

  The attendant’s eyes grew really big; pointing at him he said, "You ... you ... what you said is the word of a rebel. Aren’t you afraid your head might be chopped off?”

  "You are a Han,” Han Lin’er said, "The Tartars have harmed us miserably, yet you keep saying the Emperor this and the Emperor that; don’t you have the least bit of patriotic spirit?”

  Seeing his ferocious and threatening expression, the attendant turned around and left; Zhou Zhiruo lifted up her finger and quickly sealed the acupoint on his back. "If this man went out,” she said,

  "He would open his mouth; I am afraid very soon there will be soldiers coming in here to give us trouble.” While saying that she kicked the attendant under the bed. "Let him starve for a few days,” she said with a laugh, "We’ll let him go when we leave the city.”

  Before long, they heard the innkeeper calling out from outside, "Ah Fu, Ah Fu! Are you still chatting incessantly again? Quickly fetch some face-washing water for the guest in room three!”

  Han Lin’er was amused; he slapped the table and called out, "Quickly send us some food and wine, your masters are hungry!”

  A moment later, another attendant came in delivering food and wine, while muttering to himself,

  "Ah Fu must have gone to the palace to watch the fireworks. This kid has never done anything proper; he wants to have fun all the time.”

  Early morning on the next day, Zhang Wuji was just getting out of bed when he heard a clamorous noise on the street. He went to the door and saw the street was packed with men and women wearing bright colored and fancy clothes. Everybody was heading north, while laughing and joking; the atmosphere was livelier than the New Year celebration, with incessant sounds of firecrackers coming from all directions.

  Zhou Zhiruo also came to the door; she said, "Let us also go and watch.”

  "I have fought the warriors from the Ruyang Palace,” Zhang Wuji said, "They must not find out I am here. If we want to go, we must go in disguise.”

  Immediately, along with Zhou Zhiruo and Han Lin’er, they disguised themselves as farmers and villagers, by smearing yellow mud on their faces and hands; and then following the crowd on the street, they went to the Imperial Palace.

  It was around the end of the fourth hour [between 5 - 7 am], and the beginning of the fifth hour [between 7 - 9 am], the ground around the Imperial Palace was like a sea of people; already they could not find a place to set their feet on. Zhang Wuji stretched out his arms to gently shoved people around to clear the way. Finally they stopped under the eave by the Yan Cun [lit. extended spring (season)] gate of a rich family home. The stairs rose several feet upward, which gave them an advantageous spot to watch the show.

  They had not stood too long when they heard the banging noise of a gong. "They are here! They

  are here!” the crowd cried out. Everybody craned their necks to watch. The gong was getting nearer. They saw 108 big and tall men wearing dark green clothing. Their heft hands lifting up big gongs, about three feet in diameter, and their right hands struck the gongs with mallets. When these 108 gongs were struck together, the noise was deafening.

  The gong formation was followed by 360-man drum formation. After that it was people singing, blowing horn and beating the drum; followed by western region people playing ‘pipa’ [Chinese lute], and then Mongolian bugle horn. Each formation consisted of at least more than a hundred people, at most about four, five hundred people. After these marching ensembles, there were a couple of large red satin banners, flying high in the air. One banner carried these letters: ‘An Bang Hu Guo’ [peace to the nation, protecting the country], while the other said: ‘Zhen Xie Fu Mo’ [suppressing demonic influence, subduing the devil]. Other than these large letters, the banners were also full of bright golden Sanskrit characters. Before and after the banners each were two hundreds Mongolian elite troops, the imperial guards, with their long sabers glittering like snow, and their spears like the clouds; these four hundred men all rode on white horses. As the common people watched this display of formidable military prowess, they loudly cheered.

  Zhang Wuji sighed inwardly, "In other places there aren’t any common people who do not hate the Mongolian soldiers to the bones, but the people of Beijing have become shameless slaves of the government. To think that for decades day in and day out these people have seen Mongolian imperial household’s impressive power, and thus have forgotten their own perished country.”

  As the two banners passed, suddenly from among the west crowd several white light flashed by; two rows of flying daggers flew straight toward the two flagpoles. Each row of flying daggers consisted of seven daggers. These seven daggers neatly pierced the flagpole. Although the flagpoles were thick, after receiving seven cuts, they swayed and finally broke; with a couple of whishing noises they fell down. People were yelling and screaming miserably, as dozens of them were crushed by the flagpoles; while the rest of the people were also shouting and scrambling away. It was total chaos.

  This change was so abrupt that even Zhang Wuji and the others were taken by surprise. Han Lin’er was very happy and was about to cheer when suddenly a soft palm reached out and cover his mouth; Zhou Zhiruo managed to curb his shout in time. The four hundred elite troops moved their weapons and charged into the crowd, randomly searched for the shooter.

  Zhang Wuji noticed that whoever launched these fourteen flying daggers had a tremendous strength, obviously it was a martial art master of the Wulin world; only among those many onlookers, nobody could tell who the person was. If he could not see who did it, then how could the Mongolian soldiers? They blindly searched among the crowd and not too long afterwards dragged seven, eight men out, who called out miserably, "Injustice ...” But the Mongolian soldiers struck their blades and spears and killed those men on the spot.

  Han Lin’er was very angry; "The flying daggers shooter has gone for long, what can this useless bunch do? They massacred innocent people to vent off their anger instead,” he said.

  "Han Dage, hold your voice!” Zhou Zhiruo hissed, "We are here to watch the ‘Great Tour of Imperial City’, not to create ‘Great Trouble in the Imperial City’.” [Translator’s note: play of words here, ‘Da You Huang Cheng’ against ‘Da Nao Huang Cheng’]

  "Yes,” Han Lin’er said; he did not dare to open his mouth anymore.

  The chaos only lasted a few moments; the sound of music quickly followed, other groups marched by one by one: acrobats who swallow knife and spit fire from their mouths, and various western region entertainers, which sent the crowd cheering and clapping again, quickly put the bloody incidents on the street out of their minds. Next came group by group of puppeteers, jugglers, performers balancing plates over sticks and all kinds
of acrobatic acts. After these groups came large parade floats pulled by beautiful steeds. On each float there were handsome men and beautiful women dressed as characters of the classical stories, such as ‘Journey to the West’ [orig. Tang Sancang went to western sky to fetch the scripture], ‘Emperor Tang Ming Touring the Moon Palace’, ‘Li Cunxiao Beat the Tiger’, ‘Liu Guanzhang Fought Lu Bu Three Times’, ‘Zhang Shengyue Gathered the Hawks’, and so on; legendary battles and wonderful accomplishments, presented with the best of workmanship.

  Zhang Wuji and the others, all three people, grew in poor rural environment; they had never seen this kind of bustling festive atmosphere. They sighed inwardly, thinking today their horizons were broadened.

  On each float there was an embroidered silk banner, with inscriptions such as ‘Humble Presentation of so-and-so, the Prefect of Hu Guang [Hubei and Hunan provinces]’, or ‘Respectfully Presented by so-and-so, the Governor of Jiangsu and Zhejiang’. As the procession passed by, the official who presented the float became progressively higher in rank; the float itself became progressively fancier, the men and women playing the characters were now wearing pearls and bright jewels, the hairpins and necklaces were also made of precious jadeite and precious stones. First, the Mongolian princes, dukes, and chancellors wanted to curry favor from the Emperor; second, they also wanted to flaunt their prosperity; therefore, no expense was spared in the building and the adornment of the float.

  Amidst the melodious sound of string and woodwind instruments, a float with the ‘Liu Zhiyuan’s Chronicle of the White Rabbit’ theme passed by. Suddenly the cheerful melody changed into an awkward melody of old tune; the plain banner on the float read ‘Zhou Gong banished Guan Cai’.

  On the float there was a middle-age man with a tablet in his hands [this is the tablet held by officials during imperial audience], he was playing the role of Zhou Gong. On his side sat a small child wearing an Emperor clothes, he was playing the part of the Emperor. Guan Shu and Cai Shu were standing on the side, whispering to each other and pointing their fingers to Zhou Gong. This float was followed by another float with ‘Wang Mang’s Hypocritical Act of Generosity’. The man on this float wore a very thick white face-powder, with gold and silver in his hands, pretending to give generously to poor people. Following these two floats was a cart with white banners on all four sides, with these writings on them, ‘When Zhou Gong feared the days of rumor, Wang Mang enjoyed being praised as a polite and modest scholar. If both of them died at that time, their loyalty and talent would be hidden for eternity.’

  Zhang Wuji’s heart was stirred; he mused, "The right and wrong, black and white, in this world is really not easy to know. Zhou Gong was a great sage, but when he banished Guan Shu and Cai Shu, everyone said he was scheming to usurp the throne. Wang Mang was a great traitor, but when at first he bought the people’s hearts, there wasn’t anybody in this world who did not sing praises to him. I heard these two stories on the Bing Huo [ice and fire] Island from Yifu. This is the so-called ‘the distant road tries the horse’s strength, the course of time proves the man’s heart’. A man’s real character cannot be recognized in just a dawn-to-dusk period.” Further, he thought, "These two floats are different than the rest of them. They obviously carry a profound meaning.

  The man who prepared them must have a character of scholarly knowledge.” And then he silently recited that poem twice in his mind.

  Suddenly he heard sounds like broken gongs. A float came by, pulled by a pair of thin horses. The float was very plain and simple without any decoration. As the crowd saw the float, they roared in laughter. "This ragged float also joins the ‘Tour of the Imperial City’, won’t it be the laughingstock of the people?” they said. As the float got near, Zhang Wuji was able to see clearly and he was shocked! He saw a large man on the cart, with his long yellow hair reaching his shoulder. His eyes were closed, and he was sitting on a couch. What character did he play if not Jin Mao Shi Wang Xie Xun? Next to him stood a good-looking young woman wearing green, she had a teacup in her hands, as if she was attentively serving the man. Although her appearance was inferior to Zhou Zhiruo’s beauty, her clothing and adornments were exactly the same as the ones she was wearing at the Wan An Temple Pagoda.

  "Miss Zhou,” Han Lin’er said in a low voice, "That girl looks like you.”

  "Hmmph,” Zhou Zhiruo snorted, but did not say anything. Zhang Wuji turned his head and saw her complexion went pale, while her chest was heaving; he knew she was enraged. Thereupon he reached out to hold her right hand; while not fully understanding the intention behind this float.

  The next float was still depicting the Xie Xun - Zhou Zhiruo story. The actor playing Zhou Zhiruo giggled while walking around toward the corner, then ‘she’ stretched out two fingers and suddenly struck ‘Xie Xun’s back with all ‘her’ might. "Ah!” the fake ‘Xie Xun’ exclaimed loudly, then collapsed to the couch. ‘Zhou Zhiruo’ lifted her foot to step on him, and then raised her sword ready to kill.

  The spectators broke in loud cheer, "Good! Good! Kill him!”

  The third float of this ‘Xie Xun - Zhou Zhiruo’ theme depicted six or seven men dressed as beggars capturing the ‘Xie Xun’ and ‘Zhou Zhiruo’.

  By this time all doubts were gone from Zhang Wuji’s mind; he knew these three floats were built by Zhao Min. Expecting Zhou Zhiruo and him to come to Dadu, she arranged for these floats to humiliate Zhou Zhiruo. He stooped down to pick several small pebbles from the ground, and lightly flicked them with his middle finger. ‘Swish, swish!’ the right eyes of the pair of horses pulling the third float were blinded. The pebbles entered the horses’ brains. With long neigh, those horses fell down to the ground, dead. The float flipped over and the actors rolled down to the ground. The street was thrown into chaos.

  Zhao Zhiruo bit her lower lip and said quietly, "This witch insulted me this way, I ... I ...” Speaking to this point, her voice turned into sobs.

  Zhang Wuji felt her hand was ice-cold, her body trembled; hastily he tried to assure her, "Zhiruo, this little bitch [orig. ‘muddy egg’] can think of hundreds of weird tricks, don’t pay her any attention. As long as I know your sincerity, even if others sow dissension, how is it possible for me to believe them?”

  "Ah, I remember,” Zhou Zhiruo suddenly said, "That day Yifu was fine, before he suddenly convulsed and fell down to the floor, and then he started talking deliriously. Could it be ... could it be that at that time this witch was hiding in that inn and she shot a secret projectile toward Yifu’s back?”

  Zhang Wuji pondered for a moment before saying, "If she made her move then, she might still have enough time to make it to the Mi Le Temple in time. But based on her martial art skill, I don’t think she could evade Yifu’s detection. I am leaning more toward the Xuanming Elders who attacked him.”

  While they were talking, the Mongolian soldiers had already pushed the people back and cleared up the street from the dead horses, so that the procession of floats could continue. Zhang Wuji and Zhou Zhiruo’s minds were still occupied by the recent events and they did not have any interest in watching the subsequent floats.

  After the last float passed by, they heard intermittent sound of Buddhist monks chanting, followed by the appearance of row after row of foreign monks in red kasaya. After these monks, they heard the tinkling of iron armor, as two thousands ‘Yu Lin Jun’ [special force, the Emperor’s personal bodyguards] troops, in full armor, each one with a lance in his hand, made their appearance, followed by three thousand archers.

  After the archers, incense smoke rose up to the sky, as one by one the idols were carried on sedan chairs by porters wearing embroidered clothes; from the Tu Di [Earth God], Cheng Huang [deity in Chinese mythology], Ling Guan [lit. spirit of government official - don’t know the exact translation], Wei Tuo [Celestial Guardian], Cai Shen [God of Wealth]. [Translator’s note: there is one more idol mentioned, but my copy missed one character] A lot of people muttered their prayers, while some went down on their knees to worshi
p.

  These idols were followed by guards of honor, carrying ceremonial articles like golden gourd, golden hammer and so on. Next, came feathered fans and jeweled parasols in pairs. The crowd called out, "The Emperor is here! The Emperor is here!” as from a distant came a large sedan chair covered in yellow silk, carried by thirty-two ‘shi wei’ [This is also personal bodyguards of the Emperor. Perhaps someone out there can explain the difference between Shi Wei and Yu Lin Jun] wearing embroidered clothes.

  Zhang Wuji focused his attention to see the Mongolian Emperor. He noticed that the Emperor’s countenance was thin, pallid, and dispirited. In just one glance it was obvious that he indulged in wine. The Crown Prince rode a horse next to the sedan chair. Contrary to his expectations, the Crown Prince actually showed a heroic spirit. He had a gilded long bow, inlaid with jade, on his shoulder; truly fit the image of a Mongolian young hero.

  "Jiaozhu,” Han Lin’er whispered on Zhang Wuji’s ear, "Let subordinate make an assault, with a stab of my blade I can assassinate the Tartar Emperor, and thus rid the common people of one big evil.”

  "No, you can’t go!” Zhang Wuji said, "The Tartar Emperor is surrounded by martial art masters as his guards. If we are going to do it, I am the one who must go.”

  "That is inappropriate,” suddenly the man standing on Zhang Wuji’s left opened his mouth, "Replacing one tyrant with another, I have never seen it work.”

  Zhang Wuji, Han Lin’er and Zhou Zhiruo were startled; they turned to see this man, and saw he was about fifty years of age, dressed like a medicine peddler, carrying a medicine sack on his back, his right hand held a tiger-head stick. That man turned his thumb up and put his hand in front of his chest, making a Ming Cult’s blazing fire signal, and said in a low voice, "Peng Yingyu pays his respects to Jiaozhu. Jiaozhu is well, I am very happy.”