by Jin Yong
A nod. “Who are you to the Divine Vagrant Nine Fingers?”
“He is our shifu.”
“Oh, so you’ve come to see my shifu on his command?”
Noting Guo Jing’s hesitation, Lotus cut in: “Yes.”
The fisher looked at his feet and mumbled to himself, “What should I do? Shifu and the Divine Vagrant are very close friends.”
Lotus could see that he was deliberating over his response. A little nudge now could open the way for them. “Master Hong asked us to seek an audience with King Duan, firstly to treat my injury, but also to pass on an important message.”
“He told you to see ‘King Duan’?” The man snapped his head up and glared at her.
“Yes.”
“He said ‘King Duan’?”
Lotus bobbed her head, realizing the title had roused the surly man’s distrust, but she could not unsay what had been said.
“King Duan has long left this world of dust!” The fisher edged threateningly closer.
“He’s dead?” Guo Jing and Lotus cried in unison.
“Your Master was with King Duan when he departed. Why would he, of all people, send you to see ‘King Duan’? Who really sent you? Tell me why you’re here!” He took another menacing step forward and raised his left arm—using it to mask his right, which was darting out to grab Lotus’s shoulder.
Guo Jing had his eye trained for the slightest change in the man’s stance, but held back from intervening until the attacking hand was no more than one foot from Lotus. Twirling his left palm, Guo Jing thrust his right forward in a Shun the Concealed Dragon.
The effect of this Dragon-Subduing Palm was akin to an invisible defensive wall falling between Lotus and her assailant. If the fisher’s blow strayed into its path, it would trigger a burst of energy from Guo Jing. If the man stepped back, then the force contained in the palm strike would dissipate into the air.
Puzzled by the wayward aim of Guo Jing’s counter, the fisher nevertheless kept his focus. The girl! His hand was now just inches from her shoulder. An acute pain jolted his arm. A searing heat sizzled his chest. He had not made contact with Guo Jing’s palm, but the strength emanating from the young man was so strong that it thrust his attack aside.
The fisher jumped back and pulled his arms in to guard his torso, in antipation of a follow-up. Guo Jing surprised him by relaxing his stance before holding his palm over his fist in a gesture of respect.
Impressed by the boy’s restraint, the fisher recognized that he had been thwarted by one of the eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, which Count Seven Hong had demonstrated for his shifu. He knew he should not offend a disciple of Chief Hong.
“I can see that you are indeed the Divine Vagrant’s students, but your Master didn’t send you, did he?” Much of the aggression had left his tone.
Guo Jing nodded, knowing he could not deny it, and wondered how the fisher had figured it out.
At this honest admission, the pugnacious man assumed an almost kindly expression. “Even if the Divine Vagrant himself had come to see my shifu for a cure, this lowly creature would have had to stand in his way. I hope you will pardon me.”
“Really? You’d stop Chief Hong?” Lotus could hardly believe her ears.
“Yes. With my life.”
What’s going on? Lotus was intrigued. One moment he’s saying Count Seven was present when King Duan passed on, the next he’s saying he’ll lay down his life to stop Count Seven from seeking treatment from his shifu, who is undoubtedly King Duan! It makes no sense! Well, one thing is certain. This shifu of his is somewhere up this mountain, and we have to see him.
But how?
She tilted her head back to see as high as she could, but she could not make out the summit. Even judging from where it tore into the clouds, it seemed higher than the middle crag of Iron Palm Mountain. Steeper too. There was hardly any vegetation on its rocky surface. Impossible to find a way up on foot. The waterfall looked as if it was cascading straight from the sky, reminding her of the poet Li Po’s famous line:
From the heavens comes the water of the Yellow River.
As her eyes followed the cataract down into the pool, her mind searched for a plan to scale this obstacle. A glint. A swerve. Brilliant gold shooting from the dark depths. She edged toward the verge for a better look.
The golden salamanders! They had burrowed their way under a large rock, but the tips of their tails were still visible, swishing around. She beckoned Guo Jing over.
“Ah! I’ll catch them.”
“Don’t be silly. The water’s too fierce.”
Without another word, Guo Jing took a deep breath and jumped into the plunge pool, fully clothed and still wearing his shoes. If he could catch these creatures, surely the man would take them to see his shifu. He would find a way to deal with whatever happened next. He could not bear the idea of standing by and doing nothing while the injury ate away Lotus’s life force.
“Guo Jing!” Lotus shifted her footing too fast and stumbled forward.
Displaying well-honed reflexes, the fisher grabbed Lotus by the arm, in spite of his astonishment at Guo Jing’s descent into the water. Once he had steadied the young woman, he ran into the thatched hut.
In the short time it took Lotus to sit down, Guo Jing had found a way to plant his feet firmly at the bottom of the pool. The plummeting water beat him incessantly, but his body did not even sway.
Slowly, he bent from the waist, arms reaching out. He closed his fingers around the tails of both golden salamanders at the same time.
He tugged. Gently. Terrified of hurting these strange creatures.
Their skin was smooth and slimy. A couple of wiggles and they slipped from his grasp. They delved deeper under the boulder, evading his second attempt at catching them.
Lotus gasped at the near miss. The fisher also sucked in his breath. He had resting on his shoulder a small rowing boat, exceptionally dark in hue, and in one hand, two iron oars. He was ready to launch the craft.
Guo Jing focused his energy in his feet and used the Thousand Jin Load kung fu to root himself to the bed of the pool. Stilling his qi, he wedged his hands under the rock where the strange creatures had taken shelter.
Up, he heaved.
It moved.
Thrilled, he launched a Leap from the Abyss from the Dragon-Subduing Palm. Thrusting with both hands, he lifted the boulder clear.
He then let fly with a Dragon in the Field, hurling the rock sideways. The combined force of the waterfall and the Dragon-Subduing Palm sent it careering over the edge of the plunge pool into the gorge below.
Guo Jing now clutched a golden salamander in each hand. Holding them aloft, he trudged along the base of the pool, step by step, through the relentless thrashing of the cataract against his head and shoulders.
Over the years, the gushing water had gouged a trench of more than two zhang into the bedrock, and Guo Jing had dived right into its very depths. The fisher, amazed that anybody could swim up with the pressure of the waterfall beating down on them, dipped an oar as far into the water as he could so the young man could haul himself ashore.
But Guo Jing knew if he loosened his grip even slightly, it would give the salamanders a chance to escape. Lotus’s life depended upon them. Rallying his qi, he flexed his right foot and shot up through the depths. Then he kicked high, planting his left foot on the side of the trench, and propelled himself onto the shore through the unrelenting rush of water.
Lotus was astounded by his control of breathing and strength—this feat was performed not just underwater, but while being battered by a mighty waterfall.
Though Guo Jing’s kung fu had undergone marked improvement in the past weeks, it was his desperation to save Lotus that allowed him to tap into abilities yet unknown to him. Now that he was safely on the shore, the sight of the cataract frothing and spluttering was enough to make him dizzy. He could hardly believe that he had jumped in and grappled with it without a second thought.
The
fisher was awestruck. All but the greatest martial Masters would have been trapped by the water pressure. To break free required supreme control of qi, exceptional agility in lightness qinggong and remarkable mastery of external kung fu—all at the same time.
The salamanders thrashed in Guo Jing’s hands, screeching like bawling babies. Laughing, he thrust them at the fisher. “Now I see why they’re called wah-wahs.”
The man had just hauled the small boat ashore. He cast down the oars and reached for the precious creatures, but just before he touched them, he yanked his hands back.
“No, I can’t. Throw them back into the water.”
“Why?” Guo Jing could not understand his change of heart.
“I can never take you to Shifu. If I accept your gold wah-wahs without returning the favor, then I’ll be an ingrate, despised by the world.”
“They’re just fish—nothing to be grateful for! You have your reasons why you can’t let us see your shifu. We understand. We won’t force you. Just take them, Uncle.” Guo Jing bundled the salamanders into the fisher’s hands.
Though clearly conflicted, the man held fast to the amphibians.
“Lotus, we both know the saying, ‘Life and death are fated, age and year can’t be foretold.’ If we can’t find a cure, I’ll carry you on the road to the netherworld. Let’s go.” Somehow saying this out loud gave Guo Jing solace. In life or in death, he would stand by her.
His earnest words made Lotus well up, but she already had a plan. “Uncle, humor me, please. Or else I’ll die wondering, unable to close my eyes, unable to find eternal rest.”
“Huh?”
“This mountain is smooth like a mirror. I can’t see any trail leading uphill. If you were to let us pass, how would we make our way to the top?”
The fisher hestiated, then decided that they could not ascend without his help, even if they knew the method. “Well, it’s not as difficult as it seems. Just around this slope on the right, the water is less fierce. It comes down as rapids, rather than a waterfall. I can row one person upstream with each trip.”
“Ah! Farewell, then.” Lotus took Guo Jing’s elbow to pull herself up, while he cupped his hands to say goodbye.
Relieved to see the young couple walking away, the fisher was reminded by the salamanders’ squirming that he needed to secure them sooner rather than later. He rushed into the hut, muttering his thanks.
“Quick! Take the boat!” Lotus whispered in Guo Jing’s ear.
He stopped dead. “That … that isn’t right.”
“Fine! Stick to your precious principles!”
What’s more important? Principles or life? Guo Jing could not come to a conclusion. But Lotus had already let go of his arm and was trotting unsteadily, with the help of the Dog Beater, toward the rapids the fisher had just mentioned. Instinct kicked in. Guo Jing grabbed the little boat and hurried after her.
7
Guo Jing tossed the craft into the roiling water, tucked the oars under his arm and scooped Lotus up, carrying her for the last few steps. Then he heard it. A faint fizzing sound, above the rumble of the rapids, something zooming toward them. Secret weapons. He ducked and lunged forward into the boat, pulling Lotus with him.
Lotus’s reactions were slowed by the injury and she was hit on her back by one of the projectiles. Luckily, it was deflected by the Hedgehog Chainmail stowed in her knapsack.
The fisher raged and roared, but they could not make out his words above the din of the wild river.
The white water was sweeping them downstream at great speed, closer and closer to the precipice. If they were forced over it, they would be thrown into the ravine below, smashed to pieces. Guo Jing struck an oar into the water and hauled. The boat edged a few feet forward. He grasped a fleeting chance to help Lotus into a more secure position, then dug the blade in again. They gained another few feet against the current.
“Putrid hag! Devious vixen!” Snatches of the fisher’s outrage cut through the howls of wind and water.
“I’m the only one being cursed!” Lotus was amused that the fisher refrained from insulting Guo Jing as he flung his land-bound abuse and punches at the air.
Her comment fell on deaf ears. All of Guo Jing’s senses were engaged in the battle against the seething water. His arms, fortified with internal strength, struck back with the oars. The little boat’s prow pitched violently in the swell. Inch by inch, they were making progress.
The water here might have been less angry than around the waterfall, but, nevertheless, Guo Jing was straining with every particle of his body to propel them forward. His breathing had grown shallow and his cheeks were hot and flushed. Several times he was overwhelmed and they were swept along by the torrent. Each setback proved to be instructive, and soon Guo Jing had worked out a pattern to combat the onslaught of nature: Dragon Whips Tail, launched simultaneously in each hand with the Competing Hands technique. When the might of the Dragon-Subduing Palm surged to the very tip of each blade, it was as if he were rowing on a calm lake.
Lotus laughed. “I doubt that odious man can row as fast as you.”
* * *
AFTER TWO particularly treacherous stretches and a sharp bend, the stream started to gain in width and the landscape opened out. They could see the river meandering up the mountain, and, with each stroke of the oar, the water became less murky. Though they were still going against the flow, it was offering only mild resistance now.
Soon, the waterway had broadened to more than one zhang across. Lush peach trees lined the shore, interspersed with verdant willows, their tendrils teased by the increasingly gentle current. The banks would be ablaze with peach blossoms at springtide. Even now, clusters of small white flowers were dotted about at the edge of water, infusing the air with their sweet scent.
This calm, bucolic scene was a pleasant surprise, and both Guo Jing and Lotus felt refreshed. The stream was now a luxuriant jade green, veiling the riverbed. Guo Jing dipped an oar straight down to gauge the depth. Not only did it not reach the bottom, it was almost ripped from his grasp by the fierce undertow. He turned his mind back to the task at hand, guiding the boat leisurely upstream to the chirrups of hidden birds.
“If I can’t get better, bury me here,” Lotus said. “I don’t want to go down again.”
Guo Jing turned to face her, and was about to offer a few words of comfort when they were plunged into darkness. They had entered a cave. The floral fragrance grew more intense. There was also a renewed fury to the water, accompanied by a buzzing hum that was amplified by the rock all around them.
“What’s that noise?”
Lotus shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Dazzling brightness. They reemerged into daylight.
“Wow!” they exclaimed in awe.
From the craggy ground ahead, two geysers of water shot twenty feet into the air, fizzing noisily. Sprays of droplets drifted like flurries of snow, refracting the sunlight into radiant hues.
Guo Jing hopped ashore, holding the boat tight against the bank while helping Lotus disembark. Then he pulled the craft out of water, propping the oars on the seat.
Together, they gazed at the wellspring of the river. They could have come up with many words of praise and admiration, but nothing came to their lips. They were content, sitting hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, to share this moment of peace and clarity in silence.
* * *
A SNATCH of song drifted over from beyond the rainbow. “Goats on the Hill,” the tune Old Yang had hummed the day before.
“The city laid waste,
Did the heroes survive?
How oft does the dragon with clouds mingle?
Pondering the ebb and flow of power,
Bitterness fills the bosom.
The Tang Empire rose as the Sui fell.
The way of the world an ever-shifting billow.
Swift, fault the earth, the sky.
Slow, fault the earth, the sky.”
Lotus was moved by the gravi
ty of the lyrics. Most songs set to this melody were about ordinary things and everyday life—and there must have been thousands of renditions over time, for it had been sung up and down China for several centuries, since the Tang dynasty ruled the land. Yet, this was the first time she had come across one that reflected on matters of state and the inevitable rise and fall of empires.
She could now see the singer heading toward them. He carried an axe in one hand and a bundle of firewood under his other arm. Madam Ying’s cryptic instructions came to her mind:
To admit to seeking treatment would cause great offense—you are likely to fall at the hands of the fisher, the logger, the farmer or the scholar before reaching his court.
They had just met the fisher, and now the logger was approaching. These four men must be King Duan’s followers or disciples. The thought weighed on Lotus. They had enough trouble getting past the fisher, and she could tell from the logger’s warm baritone that he would be a tough opponent … As she tried to picture the trials they were about to face, he broke into song again:
“On the Bridge of Sky Crossing,
Resting on the balustrade, the eyes cast yonder,
From this land, the regal air has long melted away.
Overgrown trees,
Overflowing water,
No sign of the fortune-turning general,All to ruination at the turn of the head.
Merit, long it never lasts!
Fame, long it never lasts!”
The logger cast a brief look at Guo Jing and Lotus as he walked by, continuing on his way toward a cluster of trees that stood beside a steep rise netted by climbers, where he began chopping wood, as if the strangers were not there at all.
The man’s commanding presence exuded authority and gravitas. Though he was collecting firewood in rough-spun clothes, Lotus could imagine him marshalling soldiers on the battlefield. The mere sight of this formidable figure would cow his enemies. King Duan ruled the Kingdom of Dali in Yunnan, and it would not be outrageous to assume that this woodcutter was once his general, but what made him so partial to these statesman’s laments?
