A Heart Divided

by Jin Yong

  The doors parted with a creak and the squeaky voice of an elderly monk came from within: “Please enter.”

  Sole Light was sitting on the same prayer mat as when Guo Jing and Lotus had first set foot in the room, as was his brother-in-faith from Sindhu. Drawn, with pale waxy skin, the monk looked like a different person—gone was the glow of health and strength.

  The young couple prostrated themselves, too choked with emotion to form words.

  “Come in, I want to speak with you all,” Sole Light said to his disciples, who were loitering outside.

  The four men paid their respects to their elders upon entering. The monk from Sindhu nodded in acknowledgment, then lowered his head in contemplation. Sole Light seemed to take little notice of his students. He looked blankly at the wisp of incense coiling up from the censer as he turned a jade bracelet round and round in his hands.

  A woman’s bracelet in mutton-fat white jade from Khotan? Lotus noted. How intriguing … What is its story?

  At length, the monk heaved a sigh and turned to the young couple. “I am most touched by your kind offer of help. And now I realize that, if I withhold the full account from you, someone might be wounded as a result of my reticence, and that is not my wish at all. Do you know who I was before I became a monk?”

  “The King of Dali, in Yunnan,” Lotus replied. “Your name is known far and wide as the ruler of this southern realm.”

  “Kingship is but an illusion. This monk is but an illusion. Names, of course, are an illusion. Even you are an illusion.”

  Lotus’s eyes widened at this cryptic statement. She could not grasp his meaning at all.

  “The Kingdom of Dali was founded in the year Nine Hundred and Thirty-Seven, twenty-three summers before the Song Empire was established. Our seventh king, Bingyi, abdicated after a four-year reign to become a monk. His nephew, King Shengde, inherited the throne, and he, together with four of the kings who came after him, including my father, King Zhengkang, all gave up their secular lives for a monastic existence. I was the eighteenth monarch of our kingdom, and the seventh to be tonsured.”

  The four disciples were familiar with this story, but, to Lotus and Guo Jing, it was most curious. Reverend Sole Light’s decision was odd enough in isolation. Why had so many of his regal ancestors given up their power? Could a monk’s life be so much better than that of a king?

  “We of the family Duan are minor rulers of far-flung borderlands, yet we have taken an disproportionately prominent place in the world,” the monk continued. “Down through the generations, each ruler has been acutely aware of his inadequacy to take on this significant role, and we have all been cautious and careful—we were most apprehensive of succumbing to lofty ambitions and overreaching ourselves.

  “Yet, as kings, we are fed without having to toil, clothed without having to work. We travel by horses and carriages, we sleep in grand palaces. Our whole existence is built upon the blood and sweat of our people. Many of us, in our dotage, grow repentant. We look back and see that our actions have done our people more harm than good. As such, many of my forebears gave up their power to embrace a spiritual life…”

  Sole Light trailed off and turned his gaze to the window, a faltering smile on his lips, sorrow furrowing his brow. No one dared make a sound. The bracelet once more had his attention. He slipped it over his index finger and spun it around.

  “But I became a monk for a different reason. If we are to trace back its origin, we will have to return to the summit of Mount Hua, to the fight for the Nine Yin Manual. The leader of the Quanzhen Sect, Wang Chongyang the Double Sun Immortal, took the honors and was named the Manual’s custodian.

  “The following year, he came to Dali to share with me his most famed technique: Cosmos neigong. For a fortnight, he stayed in my palace and we spent the days sparring and discussing the martial arts. Little did we suspect that his martial brother Zhou Botong, bored out of his wits, had taken to wandering every corner of my palace seeking diversion. It was during these explorations that he planted the seed that has grown into the situation we find ourselves confronted with today.”

  Lotus tittered quietly to herself. It would have been most irregular if the Hoary Urchin had not managed to find a way to get himself into trouble.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE HANDKERCHIEF OF LOVEBIRDS

  1

  Sole Light sighed in self-reproach. “Still, the root of the problem lies with me. I was a minor king of a small fiefdom, and, like all overlords, I had my share of consorts and beauties in my private palace, though mine was by no means on as grand a scale as the Song Emperor’s …

  “Such a sin of mine, that was. My fascination with martial pursuits meant that I was rarely in the company of women. Days would often pass by without my setting eyes on the Queen. As for the rest of the consorts, I was rarely intimate with any of them.” The monk looked up at his disciples. “I have kept this from you all these years, but you shall learn the whole truth today.”

  So they are as ignorant as we are, Lotus said to herself.

  “My consorts often watched me working on my kung fu. Some found it riveting and entreated me to teach them. Sometimes, I obliged, since martial-arts training is beneficial to one’s health. There was one, Consort Liu, who was particularly gifted. Though she was tender in years, she was focused, practicing all day, and showed vast improvement in very little time.

  “It was all fated to come to this. On one of his explorations, Brother Zhou chanced upon her training in the garden. Now, Brother Zhou lived and breathed the martial arts. And, given his childlike naivete, it did not occur to him to maintain the proper distance between a man and a woman. He approached her and asked to spar with her. As you know, Brother Zhou was taught by Immortal Double Sun himself. A beginner like her did not stand a chance—”

  “Oh dear, did he hurt her?” Lotus interjected.

  “No, he didn’t, but he locked her acupoints after a couple of moves and demanded to know whether she accepted her subjugation. Of course, she yielded. How could a newcomer to the martial arts not be enthralled by Brother Zhou’s prowess?

  “In the flush of his triumph, Brother Zhou unbound her and chattered away about the mysteries of pressure-point locking—the very skill she had been beseeching me to share with her. It goes without saying that I had refused. What might happen if I taught such an advanced method of control to the ladies in my private palace? So she seized her chance and bowed to Brother Zhou, hoping he would grant her that knowledge.”

  Lotus giggled. “It would tickle the Old Urchin to be so honored.”

  “You know Brother Zhou?”

  “We’re old friends. He lived on Peach Blossom Island for more than a decade—and he didn’t leave once.”

  “What would make someone of his temperament remain in one place for so long?”

  “He was locked up by Papa, but he’s free now.”

  “I see.” Sole Light nodded. “How is his health?”

  “Oh, he’s in rude health, but he does get more and more unhinged with age.” She chuckled into her hand, then pointed at Guo Jing. “The Hoary Urchin swore brotherhood with him.”

  The idea of this outlandish fraternity brought a smile to the monk’s somber face. “The teaching of pressure-point locking has always been guided by one unspoken rule, as ancient as the art itself. It should never be passed between a man and a woman, unless it is from father to daughter, from mother to son or from husband to wife. To share the knowledge with those of the opposite sex without blood or familial ties is a great taboo—”

  “Why?” Lotus cut him off.

  “I am sure you are familiar with Mencius’s wise words: ‘A man and a woman should not touch when giving or receiving gifts.’ To learn this art, you have to touch every single pressure point on the other person’s body with your hands—”

  “Didn’t you do just that with me?”

  Irritated by her frivolous interruptions, the fisher and the farmer shot her a hostile look.
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  “What? Can’t I ask a question?” she glowered.

  “Pay them no heed. It was different—you were grievously injured.”

  “If you say so. What happened next?”

  “So, Brother Zhou started to teach her in earnest. He was in his hot-blooded prime and she was in the full bloom of youth. Physical interactions grew into emotional connections … and it reached a point of no return…”

  Lotus parted her lips, but bit her tongue in time.

  “I was informed of their … I was outraged, but I hid it, I pretended I knew nothing. I couldn’t allow Immortal Wang to lose face like that. But, soon, the Immortal became aware of it too. I guess Brother Zhou was a frank and honest soul and wasn’t used to concealing—”

  “What do you mean ‘it reached a point of no return’?” Lotus could not hold back her question any longer.

  Suddenly coy, Sole Light considered how he could word it within the bounds of decency. “They were not man and wife, but they committed the deed of a man and his wife.”

  “They gave birth to a baby?”

  “They simply spent a fortnight together, it takes many months to reach childbirth.” The monk skirted away from the awkward subject and resumed his tale. “Immortal Wang tied up Brother Zhou and brought him to me, to be dealt with as I saw fit. Now, for us martial men, the one thing we value the most is the upholding of righteous loyalty toward our kinfolk in the wulin. How could I let my petty personal attachment to a woman come between the friendship I shared with Immortal Wang?

  “So, I untied Brother Zhou, summoned her and gave my blessing to their union. But he started to yell and bawl, claiming he did not know that what he had done was wrong. He now realized the deed was unworthy, and that I could have him beheaded, but nothing could induce him to take her as his wife.

  “Immortal Wang was incensed. He said he would have cut Brother Zhou’s throat the instant he discovered his shameful, immoral act, but for the knowledge that his brother could indeed be so ingenuous, so unworldly, so sincerely oblivious to the meaning and consequence of his actions.”

  Lotus stuck out her tongue. “What a close shave.”

  “I had never been so affronted. I was livid. I said to Brother Zhou, ‘I am gifting you what I hold dear, willingly and with no ulterior motive. You know the time-honored saying, “Like limbs are brothers, like garbs are helpmeets.” This is simply a matter with a woman, it is of no import.’”

  “Fie! Fie! Uncle, how could you treat her like that? Your words are utter, utter hogwash!”

  “Enough!” the farmer roared.

  “Why can’t I argue back when he’s wrong?”

  The four men stared at Lotus, stupefied. They had always venerated their teacher and liege with every fiber of their being. To take issue with him was simply unimaginable. The girl’s flippancy was beyond the pale.

  But her rebuke did not bother the monk. He continued his story: “Brother Zhou would simply shake his head at whatever I had to say, and that angered me further. ‘If you love her, why do you reject her? If you don’t love her, then why did you…? Our Dali Kingdom might be inconsequential, but we will not be so insulted by outsiders under our roof.’

  “My words sent Brother Zhou into a stupor. He stared at me, then fell to his knees and knocked his head against the floor. ‘King Duan, it is my fault. Strike me dead. I deserve it. I won’t raise a hand to defend myself. I won’t dodge the blow. Just kill me now!’

  “I was shaken by his reaction and asked him, ‘Why would I kill you?’ And he just said, ‘Then I’ll take my leave.’ He took out a silk handkerchief from the inside pocket of his shirt and turned to her. ‘Yours.’ He extended his arm. She pulled a feeble smile, but made no move to take it. He let go. The handkerchief drifted down, landing by my foot.

  “After that, Brother Zhou slapped himself across the face, over and over, so hard that his cheeks were bloodied. He kowtowed to me once more and then he was gone. That was the last I saw of him. Immortal Wang apologized and begged my forgiveness and left my court the same day. Not long after that, I received news of his departure from this world. The Immortal was unparalleled among men, a true hero, noble and benevolent…”

  “Immortal Wang’s kung fu might have been stronger than yours, but I doubt he was more noble or benevolent. His seven disciples are very average—utterly awful, in fact. They’re nothing compared with your four students.”

  “The Seven Immortals of Quanzhen are known and admired by everyone under the heavens.”

  Lotus pursed her lips. “That’s just plain wrong! Your protégés are more than a match for them—both as men and martial artists … Now, what happened to the handkerchief?”

  Her praise cheered the four disciples, but they groaned inwardly at her girlish fixation on such trifles.

  “I could not bear the sight that I was left with. She stood paralyzed before me. An empty shell, deserted by her soul and her spirit. It made me furious, so I picked up the handkerchief. A pair of mandarin ducks frolicking in water. Lovebirds. Embroidered by her. A token of her love for him. Scorn rose in me when I saw the lyrical poem sewn—”

  Lotus supplied the words:

  “For the fourth time the loom is ready,

  To weave a pair of lovebirds so they can take flight.”

  “Stop!” The farmer again. “Enough of your insolence!”

  “You know it too?” Sole Light’s question sent a jolt through his disciples.

  “It’s finally come to me!” Guo Jing straightened up in excitement. “I knew I’d heard this poem before, when we were at Madam Ying’s but I couldn’t place it. It was on Peach Blossom Island! Big Brother Zhou was bitten by a snake and the venom made him delirious. He kept rambling on about looms … and weaving birds … and graying hair! What are the rest of the words? Lotus, can you remember?”

  She recited the verse in full:

  “For the fourth time the loom is ready,

  To weave a pair of lovebirds so they can take flight.

  Pity the hair that grows gray before its time!

  The ripples of spring among green grass,

  The chill of dawn lurking in the deep,

  In each other scarlet feather bathe.”

  “That’s the one!” Guo Jing struck himself on the thigh. “Big Brother kept saying that it’s dangerous to clap eyes on beautiful women, because one look is enough to make you do bad things, and worst of all is that you do it without realizing that it’s bad, so you end up offending good friends and angering martial brothers. He also said I must never let any woman touch my pressure points, or else awful, awful things will happen. He told me to stay away even from you.”

  “Pah!” Lotus pretended to spit. “I’ll give that mooncalf a good twist of the ear the next time I see him.” She collapsed into laughter. “Now I see why he got in such a sulk when I teased him about failing to find himself a wife.”

  Puzzlement clouded Guo Jing’s face again. “Hang on. How come Madam Ying knows the poem?”

  Lotus sighed, exasperated. “Because Madam Ying is Consort Liu.”

  2

  “You certainly share your father’s intelligence.” Sole Light’s expression was solemn. “Ying is her given name.”

  Among the four disciples, only the scholar had suspected there was connection between Consort Liu and Madam Ying, and he was only half convinced of his deduction. The other three stared at their shifu, open-mouthed.

  “I tossed the handkerchief at her and never summoned her again. I wallowed in self-pity at being jilted, and ignored state affairs. Nothing but martial training could take my mind off—”

  “You really loved her, Uncle,” Lotus interjected. “You know that? Why else would you be so upset?”

  “Miss!” the disciples cried in unison. How could she speak to her elder with such impudence?

  “What? Am I wrong? Uncle, am I?”

  The monk continued his story without commenting on Lotus’s observation. “I did not send for her for almost a yea
r. But I saw her often in my dreams. One night, her vision came again to haunt my sleep and I could no longer fight back the urge. I had to see her. I wanted to see what she had been doing. I went to her quarters in secret, hopping from roof to roof. Just when I landed on the ridge of the roof of her chamber, I heard it. The cry of a baby. I froze. I stood on the frost-coated tiles, utterly still, battered by a bitter cold wind. I didn’t return to my rooms until daybreak, and shortly afterward I was struck down by a terrible sickness.”

  Lotus had heard many tales of kings and emperors, but not one in which the monarch set aside his regal pride to scale walls and traverse roofs in the middle of the night to see one of his consorts.

  Sole Light’s students remembered the illness well. Thanks to his martial stature, their shifu had long been immune to common colds and extreme weather. On the odd occasion that he was indisposed, his recovery was far speedier than that of the average person, thanks to his superior internal strength. Yet, this time, not only was he incapacitated, but the malady lingered for a long time. Now they finally knew why: he was heartbroken. He had let down all his defenses.

  “Why were you sad? She gave you a child. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “My silly girl, it was not my child. It was Brother Zhou’s.”

  “But he was long gone. Did he come back in secret?”

  “No, he didn’t. Have you not heard of the phrase ‘ten moons with child’?”

  “The little one must be the very image of the Hoary Urchin. Stuck-out ears. Snub nose. That’s how you knew he wasn’t yours.”

  “I didn’t catch the newborn’s face. And I didn’t need to. I knew because it had been a very long time since I was last with her. The child couldn’t have been mine.”

  Lotus still could not quite grasp the logic, but she had a feeling that to ask further questions might cause the monk embarrassment.

  “It took me almost a year to recover from that illness. When I got better, I distracted myself with anything that could keep my mind from straying back to that night. Two years dragged by. One night, when I was meditating in my chamber, the drapes over the doorway were thrown aside. It was her. She had come to me. The eunuchs and sentries tried to stop her, but they were no match for her palm thrusts.