by Jin Yong
Without saying a word, Mu Yi tightened his belt, and attacked with the move ‘Sea Swallow Skimming the Flood’ at the young aristocrat. The young aristocrat knew that he was extremely angry and did not take the attack lightly. He dodged, replied with a blow to the belly, ‘The Poisonous Snake Seeks its Den’. Mu Yi dodged, and struck with his left palm at his shoulder. The young man turned, advanced his right palm under Mu Yi’s left arm. It was an extremely vicious blow, called ‘Benefit from the Cloud to Change the Sun’, executed without the knowledge of his adversary. However, Mu Yi parried effectively and clapped his two hands on the cheeks of the young aristocrat.
At that moment, no matter what move the aristocrat made, he could not avoid the blow! He frowned, bit his lips, and decided to employ another technique. His two hands flew like flashes and his ten fingers were planted in the back of the hands of Mu Yi. When he withdrew them, the ends of his fingers were smeared red! The spectators shouted in surprise. The girl, now in a panic, supported her father. She tore a strip from her tunic to wrap his hands, which bled profusely.
Mu Yi pushed his daughter back. “Move aside,” he said. “This day, it's either him or me!”
The girl, pale faced, looked at the young aristocrat fixedly, and drew a dagger intending to plunge it into her own heart. Surprised, Mu Yi sought to stop her hand, and the girl did not have time to pull the blade aside, which was planted in the hand of her father.
The spectators sighed. They deplored seeing a beautiful scene finishing in such a bloody way! Even the hooligans seemed indignant at such an outcome. The comments started to focus on the improper attitude of this young aristocrat.
Faced with such unrighteousness, Guo Jing could not remain standing by. He gently moved aside the people in front of him and advanced into the open space. “Ha!” he shouted, “to act like that, that's not good!”
Disconcerted for a moment, the young aristocrat laughingly retorted, “Ah, not good? Just why is it necessary to act well?" The young aristocrat’s servants, noticing that Guo Jing was dressed like a peasant and that he spoke with a marked southern accent, made fun of him.
Guo Jing did not understand the mockery, and said seriously, “You should marry this young lady!”
“And if I don't marry her?”
“If you didn't want to marry her, why did you come down to fight? It was well marked, on the banner, ‘Joust to Find a Spouse’!”
“Kid, why are you interfering?” the young aristocrat retorted, in a threatening voice.
“This young lady is not only very beautiful, but she has excellent kung fu. Why don't you want her? Didn't you see that she felt so offended that she wanted to commit suicide?” “You're such a moron that it isn't worthwhile explaining it to you...” The young aristocrat turned on his heels to leave.
Guo Jing restrained him. “Huh! How can you leave like that?”
“What do you want?”
“Didn't I tell you to marry this young lady?” The aristocrat laughed and again was about to leave.
Mu Yi, seeing Guo Jing’s intervention, understood that he was affronted but naive and little acquainted with the ways of the world. He approached and said to him, “Little brother, don't worry about him. So long as I have the breath of life, I will avenge this insult.” Then he shouted at the young aristocrat, “At least leave your name!”
“I told you I can't call you ‘father-in-law’,” he retorted insolently, “why do you still want to know my name?”
Very annoyed by this, Guo Jing leapt forward while shouting, “Then return that embroidered shoe to the young lady!”
“Is this any of your damn business!” the nobleman said furiously. “You've taken a fancy to this young miss yourself, haven’t you?”
Guo Jing shook his head and said, “No! Are you going to return it, or not?” The young aristocrat stiffened his hand suddenly and slapped Guo Jing heavily. Guo Jing moved instantly, and employed a qinna technique, seizing the wrists of his adversary by crossing his hands.
He sought to escape, in vain. “Do you want to die?” he shouted, surprised and annoyed, while aiming a kick towards Guo Jing's lower abdomen.
He flexed his muscles and pushed the young aristocrat back towards the open space. Obviously, this person had a good lightness technique [Qinggong], for, instead of falling on his back, he kept his balance and landed on his feet. He nimbly removed his brocaded coat and exclaimed, “Don't you want to continue living, little fool? If you've got guts, come and test yourself against me!”
“Why would I fight with you?” Guo Jing said, shaking his head. “Since you do not want to marry the young lady, return her embroidered shoe!”
The spectators, seeing the intervention of Guo Jing, wanted to see what he was capable of and didn't think that he would retreat. Some hooligans even hooted, “Talk without action, it's unworthy of a hero!”
For his part, the young aristocrat, having been caught by Guo Jing, realized that his kung fu wasn't insignificant and especially noted that he had powerful internal energy. He was happy not to fight; but, of course, he couldn't return the embroidered shoe without losing face! He therefore gathered his coat and laughing, turned on his heels.
Guo Jing caught him by the side of the coat and repeated, “How can you just leave?”
The young aristocrat had a sudden idea. He cast his coat over the head of his opponent and struck two fists into his chest. Wrapped up in the coat, Guo Jing could not avoid the impacts. Fortunately, he had practiced two years of orthodox neigong with Ma Yu, so that these blows, although extremely painful, could not truly injure him. Goaded by anger, he successively launched nine fast kicks while alternating stances; it was a skill technique developed by Han Baoju, which had already enabled him to beat other enemies. Even if the disciple did not yet have the skill of the master, and even if the kicks were made while he was blinded, they disturbed the young aristocrat, who could avoid the first seven, but was caught by the last two fully on his chest.
The two young men simultaneously leapt back. Guo Jing, still amazed, got rid of the coat that hampered him. He could not believe such treachery on behalf of his adversary. “He knew full well,” he thought, “that he’d entered a ‘Joust to Find a Spouse’. He won, and yet refused to marry the young lady! Moreover, when I tried to reason with him, not only was it he who struck first, but he used a shameful trick! If I hadn't practiced neigong, he would have broken my ribs and crushed my internal organs!” Being of a simple and open nature, and since he had always lived with decent people, he did not know anything about the perfidy of human nature. Even though, during the past years, his Masters had not failed to warn him about tricks and treacheries which one might meet in Jianghu, he’d listened to them the way one listens to stories and they did not remain in his memory long since they had not been experienced. At that moment, he was furious and perplexed, not able to believe in the existence of such low methods.
The young aristocrat, angered by the two kicks he had received, advanced on Guo Jing with his fist raised. Guo Jing defended, but could not avoid the rain of blows which fell on him and he fell down. The servants were laughing. Their Master puffed out his chest and said while laughing, “So you think you can play the deliverer of justice with your three-legged cat technique? Go back home and tell your Shimu [this is a put-down of his Shifus since it means ‘the wife of a teacher’] to give you lessons for twenty more years!”
Guo Jing got up, breathed in deeply, circulated his chi in his whole body so that the pain diminished. “My Shifu doesn't have a wife,” he retorted.
“Then tell him to marry one quickly!”
Guo Jing was going to answer, “I have six Shifus, and one of them is a woman..." but did not have time. He saw that the other was going to leave, so he advanced on him, fist raised, and shouted, “Prepare yourself!”
The young aristocrat dodged, Guo Jing swung a left hook right at his face which the other blocked. They stood, their arms holding onto their adversary's, each one trying to use i
nternal energy to overcome the other. Guo Jing was a little stronger but his opponent had better techniques and it was difficult to decide between them.
Guo Jing breathed in deeply to concentrate his internal energy, while the other suddenly loosened his pressure. Guo Jing fell forward. As he tried to regain his balance, he felt a stroke coming from behind. He hastened to avoid it but, not having regained full balance, he stumbled. While falling, he supported himself on his elbow, rebounded and, while spinning in the air, delivered a kick with his left foot. Watching this fast and spectacular recovery, the crowd applauded.
The young aristocrat moved away and attacked with two palms, one was a feint to confuse his adversary, while the other was the real stroke. Guo Jing then used the technique ‘Disconnect the Muscles and Separate the Bones’; his hands fluttered in all directions, aiming at all the tendons and joints of the body. Seeing the violence of this attack, the aristocrat suddenly changed tactics; he began to use the same technique! There was a difference however; the one learned by Guo Jing had been invented by Zhu Cong, the ‘Magical Hands Scholar’. It diverged from the orthodox technique taught by the masters of the central Plains considerably. The two looked similar in their principles, but had some differences in execution. One extended his index and middle fingers trying to seize the opponent’s ‘Supporting the Old’ [Yang Lao] accupoint behind the wrist; the other tried to hook and seize the opponent’s knuckles. The two felt mutual apprehension and didn't dare to commit completely, barely sketching a movement before changing to another. After forty or so exchanges, they still couldn’t tell who had the upper hand.
Snow continued to fall and a fine white layer covered the heads and the shoulders of the spectators that surrounded them. Suddenly, the young aristocrat seemed to leave an opening on his chest. Guo Jing saw it immediately and tried to benefit from it by pointing his index finger at the point ‘Tail of Turtledove’ on his adversary. But he had some reservations about using this action. “There is no hate between us,” he said to himself, “I can’t use such a deadly stroke on him!” He then diverted his finger and touched another point which had no effect on his adversary. The young aristocrat had enough time to catch his wrist and pull him, while hooking him with his foot. Guo Jing lost his balance and fell once again.
Mu Yi, whose hand had just been bandaged by his daughter, also watched the two. He saw Guo Jing fall for the third time and understood that he was not experienced enough to face the insolent youngster and he hastened to lift him from the ground. “Little brother,” he said, “let it go. There’s no point in staying among scoundrels of this kind any longer!”
Guo Jing had seen stars and was hurt, but he felt rage mounting in his head. He moved away from Mu Yi and rushed at his adversary, while increasing the number of strokes. The young aristocrat, surprised to see him insist on continuing in spite of the beating that he had received, moved back three steps. “Don't you admit your defeat?” Guo Jing didn't answer and continued to attack.
“If you don't stop,” the young aristocrat threatened, “I am going to be obliged to kill you!”
“If you don't return the shoe,” Guo Jing retorted, “I will never be finished with you!”
“But this girl is not even your sister, why do you persist in wanting to be my brother-in-law?”
“To be the brother-in-law of someone,” constituted an insult in the Jin capital, and the scoundrels in the crowd exploded with laughter when they heard it. Guo Jing didn't understand any of it.
“I don't even know her,” he said, “and she isn’t my sister!”
The young aristocrat no longer knew whether to laugh or to be angry! He ended up saying, “Then protect yourself you stupid fool!”
The two young people continued to fight. This time, Guo Jing was more prudent and didn't fall into the repeated traps that his adversary prepared for him. In fact, from a strictly technical viewpoint, the kung fu of the young aristocrat was superior, but Guo Jing never gave up and fought like a barbarian. Even after he received blows, he continued to attack with persistence and without retreating. He had fought like this when he was small, during the fights with the kids of Dukhsh’s gang. Even though he had acquired more agility while learning martial arts, his way of fighting hadn’t fundamentally changed and it was in his nature to fight with savagery. He had forgotten the recommendation of his Fourth Shifu. ‘If you can’t defeat the enemy, flee!’ In his mind, the more important formula had always been, ‘If the enemy is unbeatable, persist!’, except that he didn't realize it!
The spectacle attracted more and more spectators and the area was completely filled. The wind and snow had increased in intensity, but no one left.
Mu Yi, with much experience in the Jianghu region, well knew that, if the fight continued, the crowds were going to attract the attention of the authorities and maybe provoke their intervention. He knew that it would be better to not expose themselves to that possibility! But, this young man had generously come to help them; he could not leave him here alone. He felt very anxious. He raised his eyes and was vaguely viewing the assembly, when he noticed in the crowd, several individuals who seemed to belong to the martial world. He had been so focused on the fight that he had not even noticed their arrival.
He then moved slowly, approaching the servants of the young aristocrat who were standing in a group. Watching them out of the corner of his eye, he saw, among them, three characters with a martial look. The first wore a scarlet Buddhist monk’s dress and a golden cap; it was a very tall Tibetan lama. The second, medium-sized, had silvery white hair and a ruddy, beaming face with smooth skin like a baby, without one wrinkle. He was clothed in a long robe, but one couldn’t tell if it was Taoist or Buddhist. The third was very small, but his blood-shot eyes had a piercing look, and he wore a proud small mustache.
The presence of these unusual faces astonished Mu Yi. He then heard one of the servants say, “Supreme Virtue, have the goodness to rid us of this stupid fool, please! If this continues and something serious happens to the young Prince, we servants could face death!”
Hearing this, Mu Yi was shaken. “So,” he thought, “this young scoundrel is a prince! If the fight continues, misfortune might happen to him. Apparently all these experts are part of the royal house and the servants have summoned them here to lend assistance to the prince.”
The Tibetan llama smiled without saying a word. The old man shouted while laughing, “The ‘Supreme Virtue’ Lingzhi is an eminent member of a secret school in Tibet, he cannot stoop so low as to exchange stances with a lowly skilled fighter of this kind, it would be too demeaning... If something should happen, the Prince would at most break your legs; he wouldn’t go so far as to kill you, would he?”
“Anyway,” intervened the small man with the blood-shot eyes, “the young Prince is stronger than this kid, what do you have to fear?” He was small, but also had a piercing voice. The spectators around them jumped when they heard it and turned around to look at him. Made nervous by his menacing look, they lowered their eyes immediately.
“Our young Prince did put in a lot of hard work to learn this kung fu,” the silvery haired old man said, “if he can’t give a public demonstration of it, he would really be frustrated if all these years of effort remains unseen! If someone actually helps him, he will surely be vexed...” “Venerable Liang,” the small man said, “to what school does the palm technique of the young Prince belong?”
“Brother Peng,” the old man answered, laughing, “Do you want to put me to the test? The young Prince has a palm technique combining agility with complexity that is indeed difficult to acquire. If I am not mistaken, he has learned his kung fu from a Taoist of the Quanzhen Sect!”
Mu Yi was again startled. “Could this inconsiderate youngster be a disciple of the Quanzhen Sect?”
“The Venerable Liang has a remarkable eye,” the small man said. “You’ve spent your life at the foot of the Mountain of Eternal Whiteness and you’ve dedicated yourself to meditation and to alche
mical practices. People say that you rarely come into the Central Plains, and yet you seem to know by heart the styles of the Chinese schools. I admire you greatly.”
“Brother Peng is too generous with his praise,” the old man said, while smiling.
“But,” the small man pursued, “the Taoists of the Quanzhen Sect are of bizarre and surprising character. How could they accept the young Prince as a disciple? That would be rather astonishing.”
“If the Sixth Prince wants to, who can he not entice to join him? Just like you Brother Peng, you are a great hero who dominates Shandong and Shanxi, yet you are now part of the Prince's household.”
The small man acknowledged this. Their attention was again focused on the fight. They noticed that Guo Jing had changed styles again; the rhythm of his palm technique slowed, and his defense was extremely tight. The young Prince had repeatedly searched for ways to attack but had been repulsed by very heavy strokes.
“In your opinion,” the old man asked the small man, “where does this young boy’s kung fu come from?”
“His kung fu is very mixed,” he answered after a moment of hesitation. “One would say that he had several Shifus...”
“Chief Peng is right,” interrupted someone nearby. “This kid is the disciple of the ‘Seven Freaks of Jiangnan’.”
Mu Yi examined the person who had just spoken. It was a skinny man with a dark face and three lumps on his forehead. “He called him Chief Peng; would this small man be the bandit Peng Lianhu, the ‘Butcher of One Thousand Hands’, who slaughters without frowning! As for the ‘Seven Freaks of Jiangnan’, it has been a long time since I heard their name mentioned, could they still be part of this world?”
At this time, the skinny man with the dark face suddenly roared, “Little brat, I finally found you.” He drew a steel trident, rolled up his sleeves and bounded into the arena. Hearing the noise behind him, Guo Jing turned around and was nose to nose with the man with the three lumps on his forehead; it was the Three-Headed Dragon, Hou Tonghai, the martial uncle of the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’ . Surprised and worried, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. The young Prince took advantage of this hesitation to hit him on the shoulder bringing Guo Jing back to the fight.
