by Jin Yong
He nodded.
“That was where General Yue Fei’s last writings were believed to be hidden. And wouldn’t Shangguan Jiannan have put the painting back in the place where he found the book?”
“Yes…”
“Brother Qu was banished from Peach Blossom Island by Papa, but he always hoped he would be allowed back one day. He knew how much Papa loves painting, calligraphy and antiques. Tell me, where in the world has the best collection of such treasures? The Imperial Palace in Lin’an, of course. So, Brother Qu stole into the royal residence and carried off many great works of art—”
“I see what you mean now. It was one of the paintings your Brother Qu took. He kept everything in the hidden room in Ox Village. He was planning to present them to your father one day, but he died at the hands of the Imperial Guard before he was ready to make the journey. And, when that scoundrel Wanyan Honglie came after General Yue’s writings, all he found was an empty casket. The book was long gone, and the painting that would have pointed him to its new location had been taken too … If we’d known, we wouldn’t have needed to fight so hard outside the cave. I wouldn’t have been injured by the Old Venom, and you wouldn’t have had to worry for seven whole days.”
“There, you’re mistaken. If we hadn’t spent all that time in the secret chamber, we’d never have found the painting, and we wouldn’t have…” Lotus trailed off. Her eyes were drawn to the newly risen moon and her heart ached at the memory of that fateful encounter with Khojin. “I wonder how Papa is … We haven’t got long until the fifteenth. Moon Festival. The mid-autumn full moon. We’ll be at the Tower of Mist and Rain in Jiaxing, fighting Tiger Peng and his motley crew … After that, you are going back to Mongolia, aren’t you?”
“No, I have to avenge my father and Uncle Yang first. I have to take Wanyan Honglie’s life.”
Lotus was still gazing at the luminous crescent in the sky. “And then?”
“We have to help Shifu heal his injury, we have to make sure Brother Zhou meets with Madam Ying, we have to visit my shifus’ homes in Jiaxing, all six of them, one by one, and we have to find my father’s grave.”
“When we have done all those things, you’ll have to go back to Mongolia, won’t you?”
“No…” But he could not come up with another excuse. He would have to return for his mother, so she could at last come home to the South, where she was born.
“Guo Jing, listen. I know you’re trying to delay the inevitable, I know you don’t want to be parted from me.” A sigh. “I don’t want it either … But why are we being so foolish, dwelling on it? We should enjoy each moment together to the full. One merry day lived is one merry day less. Let’s head back to the boat. We can have some fun with that imposter.”
When they boarded, the boat-master and the two deckhands were already asleep in the stern.
“I’ll keep watch.” Guo Jing kept his voice low.
“Let me teach you a few signs to show them tomorrow,” Lotus whispered back.
“Why don’t you do it yourself?”
“They’re too foul for a maiden’s hands.”
Guo Jing was amused by the thought of cussing with gestures. “Teach me tomorrow. It’s late.”
Lotus was more tired than she would admit, since she had yet to fully regain her elemental power. She laid her head on Guo Jing’s lap and was soon dozing off. She was careful not to press her shoulders or back into him, for fear of pricking him with the Hedgehog Chainmail.
Guo Jing wanted to meditate and work on his internal strength, but he knew that if he sat cross-legged in the usual position, he might arouse the boat-master’s suspicion. So, he lay flat on his back and channeled his energy according to the instructions from the final section of the Nine Yin Manual, as interpreted by Reverend Sole Light. An hour later, he sensed an invigorating pulse coursing through his limbs and reverberating in his bones.
Satisfied by these results, he was brought back to the present by Lotus’s voice. “Don’t marry her, please,” she murmured. “I want to marry you … No, no, ignore me. I was wrong. I won’t ask anything of you. I know I’m the only one in your heart. That’s good enough.”
“Lotus, Lotus…” Guo Jing whispered.
The soft breathing of slumber was her only reply.
He watched the pale moon caress her face, with a heavy heart. The rosy glow had yet to return to her cheeks, so her skin was almost translucent. He did not know how long he had been gazing at her when a light frown creased her brow and a tear rolled from the corner of her eye.
She must be dreaming about our future, Guo Jing thought. Her carefree giggles are just an act. She laughs to hide the great weight she carries, and I’m the cause of it. It would be better for her if we hadn’t met in Kalgan. What about me? Can I bear to cast her aside?
The sound of water sloshing against the side of the boat broke into Guo Jing’s thoughts. He was astounded that anyone would be so reckless as to raise their sail in the dark, especially as the Yuan River was notorious for its rapid currents and treacherous shallows. It sounded to him as though the craft was coming downriver toward them. He was just about to push himself up so he could peer through the gap between the gunwale and the awning, when three muffled claps from the stern gave him pause. The dull noise carried a long way in the dead of the night. Suddenly, the slop of an oar slipping into water and the rustle of sails being lowered could be heard. Moments later, the unknown vessel drew abreast.
Guo Jing woke Lotus up with a nudge as their boat bobbed in the water. He peeled back the canopy in time to catch a glimpse of a black silhouette—their boat-master, perhaps—hopping across onto the barge that had just arrived.
“Stay here, I’ll take a look.”
Lotus nodded.
Crouching low, Guo Jing tiptoed to the prow. The other craft was still swaying from the boat-master’s impact, providing the perfect cover for him to come aboard without being detected. He leaped high and touched down in the middle of the crossbeam up on the mast. The vessel dipped a little from his weight, but otherwise remained steady. He waited a little before climbing down and finding a gap in the woven canopy he could spy through.
Three men. Clad in black, in the manner typical of the Iron Palm Gang. One of them wore a blue-green kerchief over his brow. Burly and tall, he seemed to be in command, for the boat-master was bowing to him.
“Fort Master Qiao,” the boat-master said in a deferential tone.
“They’re both aboard?”
“Yes.”
“Do they seem wary?”
“No, but they won’t eat what we cook, so we can’t—”
“Huh! We’ll finish them on Blue Dragon Shoal. When you leave Blue Dragon Market, the day after tomorrow, smash the tiller three li from the shoal, at precisely midday. We will take over from there. Remember, these two are very skilled in kung fu. Be vigilant. When the deed is done, our leader will reward you handsomely. Go back by water and take care not to rock the boat. You don’t want to wake them.”
“Yes, Fort Master Qiao.” The boat-master retreated with a bow and slipped into the river, portside.
Guo Jing flexed his toes and landed lightly back on his own craft. He told Lotus what he had heard.
“Blue Dragon, White Tiger, we won’t be cowed by a shoal. We rowed up raging rapids to get to Uncle Sole Light. Now, bedtime for us both!”
They slept soundly through the night, safe in the knowledge that they would not be attacked and thus had no need to keep a lookout. The next day, they sat on the deck to admire the landscape as they sailed past.
On the morning of the third day of the voyage, Lotus signaled to the boat-master as he weighed anchor and prepared to set sail: “Put the horse ashore. I don’t want him to drown if we capsize at Blue Dragon Shoal.”
The man shot her an odd look, but promptly recovered from his slip, feigning incomprehension. Lotus threw her hands up, overwhelmed by the urge to swear at him. She had picked up a most colorful repertoire of curses from
the servants of Peach Blossom Island, who were all fearsome criminals made deaf and mute by her father. She touched two fingers to form a circle and decided it was too unbecoming. She abandoned the gesture with a giggle and led Ulaan onto dry land with Guo Jing.
“Lotus, let’s ride away.”
“Why?”
“I want us to be together always, safe and sound. What’s the point of getting even with these scheming crooks?”
“Together always?” she scoffed.
Smarting from this snub, he watched her let go of the reins and point north. Ulaan understood that he would be reunited with his masters soon and galloped off, disappearing into the distance.
“Back to the boat.”
“Why take such a risk? You haven’t regained your strength.”
“It’s fine if you don’t want to come.” With that, she returned to the barge and went aboard. Guo Jing had no choice but to follow her.
As he climbed over the gunwale, she gave him a radiant smile. “You really are a dolt sometimes. The more adventures we share, the more memories we’ll have of our time together. So, when we part, we’ll have plenty to remember each other by—that’s good, isn’t it?”
“Do we—do we have to part? I don’t want to—I won’t. No matter what!”
She just looked at him in silence.
Her blank expression elicited a wretched feeling in his heart. A giant hammer was pummeling the core of his being out of shape and he knew not how to stop it. He had promised Tolui on a hotheaded impulse that he would honor his betrothal to Khojin, but now he had to live with the bitter agony he had inflicted upon Lotus and himself.
3
Standing together on the prow, Guo Jing and Lotus surveyed the undulating hills, which were fast growing into jagged mountains as they sailed closer to noon and Blue Dragon Shoal. While they were being swept downriver at dazzling speed, the upstream traffic struggled against the strong current, even though the vessels were being hauled along with thick ropes from the shore. The larger barges they passed could only make progress thanks to the combined strength of several dozen men, and lighter craft still required a minimum of three or four pairs of hands. Often a vessel would appear nailed to the riverbed, beaten about by the frothing waves, for just to stay where it was already took its best efforts in this tug of war against the power of nature.
The tow-men trudged forward, one step at a time, huddled and bent low, their foreheads almost scraping the uneven path. Stripped down to the waist, they had each wound a flimsy piece of white cloth around their heads. Glistening sheets of sweat clung to their sun-scorched backs, making their skin iridescent in the midday sun. They howled with each heave of the rope. A cacophony of cries rose and fell, unceasing, echoing between rock and river.
Trepidation mounted in Guo Jing as their barge washed downstream. “We’ve misjudged the Yuan River. This stretch of dangerous water seems to go on and on.” He was careful to keep his voice low. “What if we do capsize? You’ve yet to regain your strength. The risk is too great.”
“What do you think we should do?”
“Take out the boat-master and steer the boat ashore.”
A shake of her head. “That’s no fun.”
“This isn’t the time for fun.”
“But I like fun!” Lotus said, giggling into her hand.
The sight of the waterway ahead being squeezed ever narrower by steep slopes either side disturbed Guo Jing. What could he do to make sure they got through safely? He asked himself over and over again, but his brain failed to offer up a solution.
After a bend in the river, cottages could be seen dotted high and low on a mountain in the distance. The boat raced along with the fast-flowing water like a galloping horse, and, in a flash, they were bearing down on the settlement. Scores of burly men stood on the waterfront awaiting their approach. They caught the hawsers tossed their way by the boat-master and looped them onto a large capstan. It took fifteen men turning the winch with all their might to pull them to shore.
At the same time, a second vessel of a similar size was being dragged to the dock from downstream. The moment its anchors were dropped, the tow-men flopped to the ground, puffing and panting, unable to move.
Guo Jing eyed the exhausted men with alarm, for it could only mean one thing: the stretch of river ahead was more treacherous. He also noted there were graybeards among the laborers, as well as teenage boys of no more than fourteen or fifteen. Young or old, they were, without exception, jaundiced and stick thin, their ribs protruding out so prominently that he could count them from afar. He felt a lump in his throat to witness the harsh conditions endured by the common people.
By now, their barge had also set anchor among the twenty or so vessels lining the dock of this hillside village.
“Brother, what is this place?” Lotus called to one of the men who had hauled them in.
“Blue Dragon Market.”
She nodded in acknowledgment and edged toward the back of the boat with Guo Jing to keep an eye on their boat-master. He was gesturing at a brawny man on the water’s edge. Then, a hatchet appeared in his hands. He swung, once, twice. The mooring lines were cut clean through. He dropped the hatchet and yanked both anchors out of the water.
The boat careened sharply, caught in the grip of the raging river, before spinning a full circle. Seized by the brute force of nature, the craft tore downriver to cries of dismay from the dock. In a trice, the shrieks died away, as they were swept out of earshot of Blue Dragon Market and over a steep drop in the watercourse. The barge plunged and plummeted. Water sprayed and splashed. The boat-master clasped both hands over the tiller, his eyes reading every crest and billow. The two deckhands, each clutching a barge pole, flanked their captain. There was no way to tell whether they were poised to fend off boulders or to guard the boat-master from Guo Jing and Lotus.
The river boiled with relentless fury. The craft hurtled onward, as if flung over a cliff, in free fall. They could crash into rocks and be smashed into a thousand pieces at any moment.
“Take the helm, Lotus!” Guo Jing bellowed as he made for the stern.
The deckhands raised their poles, ready for combat, but what chance did they have against Guo Jing?
Rushing after him, Lotus yelled—“Wait!”—then dropped her voice to a whisper and pointed to two white dots in the sky. “The condors.”
Guo Jing at last understood why Lotus had been so composed. They could fly off on the birds’ backs when the boat crashed. He beckoned the raptors down to join them.
The boat-master allowed himself a smile at Guo Jing’s aborted attack. The unweaned wretch must be scared stiff by the turbulence, he told himself.
The distant rhythmic chants of a tow party could now be heard above the river’s rumble. Presently, a canopied boat came into view, inching steadily forward against the current. A black flag flew from the mast.
The boat-master brought down the hatchet, slicing through the tiller handle. The foaming water instantly devoured the splintered wood as he readied himself to leap onto the oncoming vessel.
The condors were now perched on the gunwale. Guo Jing held one hand out toward Lotus and pressed the other down on the female condor’s back to keep her steady.
“Not yet!” she called. “Grab an anchor. Smash that boat!”
With the tiller sabotaged, leaving no way to control the rudder, the river was hurling them into the other craft. They were just one zhang apart and closing fast. The helmsman of the oncoming vessel pushed the tiller as far as it would go and managed to edge his barge a fraction to port, avoiding a head-on collision.
Right then, Guo Jing launched the anchor. It ripped through the air, powered by a Drawn by Six Dragons from the Dragon-Subduing Palm.
Screams and shouts sounded above the roar of the river.
The anchor’s metal bulk crashed into the other boat’s bow, where a half dozen or so bamboo cables were fastened to the vessel’s tow pole.
Already strained out of shape b
y the opposing forces of the roiling river and the hauling men, the post exploded on impact. Taut towlines fell slack. The laborers tumbled headlong to the ground.
Like a kite with its string snapped, the barge swiveled round and round, then rushed stern-first toward Guo Jing’s and Lotus’s boat.
The shrieks of men, rising above the bellowing of the river, reverberated between the cliff faces either side.
“Heeeelp!” the boat-master cried.
“The mute speaks!” Lotus could not pass up the chance to mock him.
Taking a deep breath, Guo Jing gripped the second anchor rope with both hands and tossed the metal weight into the air with a Dragon in the Field. He whirled it over his head as he wheeled round three times to build momentum.
Then he let go, propelling the heavy load with a blast of his neigong power. This time, he aimed for the rudder.
A man shot out of the cabin, snatched up a barge pole and swatted it down on the airborne anchor’s shank. The bamboo shaft bent and arced—crack!—and broke in two.
Still, the contact was enough to deflect the anchor away from the boat. It crashed into the river, where it sunk without trace.
The man stood at the stern, steady, in control, unaffected by the violent lurching of his vessel. Gusts of wind tugged at his arrowroot short jacket, sweeping his speckled beard to one side.
Qiu Qianren!
4
Paaaang! guo Jing and Lotus were thrown into the air, their backs slamming against the cabin doors. Their boat had rammed into a cluster of rocks. In a trice, they were ankle-deep in water. Too late to escape on the condors now—they had flown away in fright at the impact.
“Follow me!” Guo Jing called to Lotus and he stamped his feet against the deck.
Up he shot in a Dragon Soars in the Sky, angling his body so that he was hurtling his full weight into Qiu Qianren.
A desperate gambit, but in this life-and-death moment, what option did he have?
