by Jin Yong
If he tried to land anywhere else on Qiu’s barge, the martial Master would strike at him before he could touch down, and there would be nothing he could do to defend himself.
But, if he launched his body at Qiu Qianren in a frontal assault, he might be able to force him back on his heels, which might give him the chance to gain a foothold.
Yet, Guo Jing’s reasoning was apparent to Qiu Qianren too. The seasoned fighter brandished the broken bamboo pole. Its jagged point ripped through the air in a succession of feints and firm thrusts.
Rather than trying to fend off the sharp severed pole, the airborne Guo Jing hit back with a Thick Clouds Without Rain, striking his hands in quick succession at the crown of Qiu’s head. Then he swiped his arm against the makeshift weapon, pushing its vicious point aside as he dived toward the deck.
With a howl, Qiu let go and drew his palms together, propelling them toward Guo Jing’s chest. Once he made contact, he would send the boy flying into the bubbling water. After all, his feet were firmly planted, and the whelp had nothing to stand on but the wind.
Just then, Lotus hopped up and tapped the Dog Beater against the broken barge pole as it fell through the air. Riding on the residual internal force contained in the discarded weapon, she vaulted over to Qiu’s vessel, raining down three ferocious jabs with the cane as she descended.
The rapid-fire onslaught almost caught Qiu Qianren out, very nearly striking him in the eye, and he turned away from Guo Jing to deal with Lotus.
As Guo Jing landed on the deck, he sent forth a Withdraw to Gain, a Dragon-Subduing Palm move rarely used in combat.
Qiu twisted away from the Dog-Beating Cane and swept his foot sideways, forcing Guo Jing to take a step back. Instantly, Qiu thrust out his palms—swoo-oosh—one after the other.
For centuries, the Iron Palm Gang’s fame had been sustained by this very kung fu, which took the group’s name. When it was passed down to Shangguan Jiannan and his disciple Qiu Qianren, they had enriched the repertoire with their own interpretations. Although the Iron Palm was less powerful than the Dragon-Subduing Palm, it had the advantage of greater variety.
Half a dozen moves were exchanged in the twinkling of an eye. Confined to the barge’s narrow deck, Qiu Qianren and Guo Jing fought warily, pulling back before their moves reached their full potential. Still, the deafening rush of the river could not mask the shrill hiss that followed each lash of their palms.
Qiu’s helmsman had regained some control of the vessel, in spite of the initial chaos and the ongoing fight, wresting the boat the right way round as it reeled downstream.
The other craft, by now, had been ripped in two by the angry river. Spars of wood, stretches of sail and the three-man crew were churned about in circles, dragged deeper and deeper into a whirlpool.
Lotus had her hands full tackling the crew of Qiu Qianren’s barge, but, when the boat-master’s shrieks reached her ears, she felt compelled to fling a hurried insult his way as he and his two deckhands thrashed and flailed. It did not matter how hard they paddled, they could not escape the pull of the vortex. They were sucked down to the riverbed together with what was left of the wreckage. Meanwhile, the condors wheeled in the sky, cawing in distress.
Barely any time had passed and the rapids had already carried them a couple of li from where the other boat had sunk. All the while, Lotus had been jabbing and thrusting with the Dog-Beating Cane, forcing Qiu’s minions back through the cabin, toward the bow, so she could help Guo Jing deal with their leader. Just when she was about to join the fight, she caught the glint of steel from the corner of her eye.
One of the retreating men. Hacking down with his saber.
Lotus could not see who the man was attacking, but time was of the essence, so she flicked her wrist and sent a handful of sewing needles flying into his arm. The blade fell from his hand as he uttered a blood-chilling wail. Lotus darted into the cabin and, with one swift blow, sent him sprawling. Then she turned to check on his intended victim.
Madam Ying. On the floor. Her arms and legs bound. The only acknowledgment she gave her rescuer was a cold glare.
Lotus was astonished to find the vindictive woman here, of all places. She picked up the saber and hacked through the rope binding her wrists.
The moment her hands were free, Madam Ying snatched the blade from Lotus’s grasp.
It flashed once.
The man was left twitching in his own gore. She now turned the bloodstained weapon on the restraints around her ankles.
“You saved me, but don’t hope for anything in return.”
“Fine, we’re even now.”
Lotus hastened back to the deck. She had no time for petty wrangling with the likes of Madam Ying. Whirling the Dog-Beating Cane, she wove a web of attack over Qiu Qianren’s back.
The martial Master was not particularly concerned by Lotus entering the fray; he merely responded by channeling more neigong power into his palms. He had been dominating the boy. What could a teenage girl bring to the fight?
But, as he listened to his followers being chased overboard by Madam Ying, their muffled screams swallowed by the river, a thought chilled his heart: No human being, not even an expert swimmer, would stand a chance in this water.
A dozen moves in, he also had to face a rude awakening. The girl’s little green stick was peskier than he had assumed. Feeling the strain of the double onslaught, he edged backward and hopped onto the gunwale. With the wild waves at his back, he no longer had to worry about being harassed from behind.
Guo Jing let rip with a series of his most potent strikes, but Qiu Qianren held his ground without shifting half an inch, as though his feet were nailed in place. It gave Lotus an idea: You call yourself Iron Palm Water Glider, let’s see if you can really walk on water!
She renewed her attack, but Qiu’s risposte was calm and precise, his palms a blur of motion as he kept one eye on the river.
Expecting reinforcements? She continued to taunt him in her head. Well, your kung fu may be better than ours, but there are three of us! Together, we can throw you overboard.
“Step aside, little girl,” Madam Ying said. She had been keeping track of the battle as she swept the Iron Palm Gang members off the boat, sparing only the helmsman.
Annoyed by her disparaging tone, Lotus thrust twice with the Dog Beater, forcing Qiu Qianren to twist away and disengage. She grabbed the chance to jump back a couple of paces.
“Let her have a go.” She gave Guo Jing’s robe a tug and he also gave ground.
“Master Qiu, I never imagined that a celebrated personality of the jianghu would stoop so low as to use a doping incense on a sleeping woman,” Madam Ying said in her haughtiest tone.
“Had I time to deal with you myself, you would know I have no need of incense,” Qiu Qianren shot back. “I can catch ten of you with my bare hands.”
“How might I have offended the Iron Palm Gang?”
“These two befouled our hallowed site. And you gave them shelter.”
“Oh, them? Do what you like. They’re nothing to me.”
Madam Ying’s prickly antagonism vanished as swiftly as it had surfaced. She perched on the gunwale, ready to enjoy the spectacle.
Under normal circumstances, it would not have been possible for the mistrustful woman to be abducted by the mediocre martial men of the Iron Palm Gang, whom she had just cast into the river, but, since her descent from Sole Light’s mountain sanctuary after her failed attempt at revenge, she had been in a state of intense distraction.
The way Guo Jing took the knife for Sole Light and the monk bared his chest for her, had awakened the natural sympathy she had suppressed for so long. And yet, as she made her way down the mountain to find a guest house for the night, the memory of her infant son’s death came flooding back—his face distorted by pain, his eyes pleading—and her heart had turned to stone again. Sitting alone in her room, haunted by her past and tortured by her fleeting weakness, she failed to detect the waft of incense smoke laced with incapac
itating herbs.
Now she redirected her bile at Guo Jing and Lotus, hoping she would see them dragged away by the current along with Qiu Qianren.
Lotus glared at the capricious woman. Once we’ve dealt with him, you’ll be next! She stood shoulder to shoulder with Guo Jing, and together they rained down a torrent of flying palms and sweeps of the Dog-Beating Cane.
Madam Ying soon came to the conclusion that Qiu Qianren, despite his superior strength, could not outlast the young couple in a battle of attrition. Then she noticed that he seemed to be changing his tactics, shifting his footing along the narrow gunwale. Could he be trying to find a way to catch the young couple unaware?
“Don’t overstretch yourself. Rest a little.”
Guo Jing’s tender concern filled Madam Ying with a bitter pang of longing.
Nobody ever treated me how he treats her, she said to herself. Envy warped into jealousy and, once more, hate consumed her.
“What kind of fight is this, two against one? Let’s make it fair.” Madam Ying pulled a pair of bamboo slips from her robe, and, without another word, began to jab and swipe at Lotus.
“You really are a mad crone. Now I know why the Hoary Urchin wants nothing to do with you!”
Thus provoked, Madam Ying attacked so viciously that Lotus struggled to defend herself, even with the aid of the sophisticated Block technique from the Dog-Beating repertoire, for her agility was still hampered by her damaged inner strength. Madam Ying had many years of training over her, and the efficacy of the woman’s kung fu—inspired by the slick movement of fish—was amplified by the unpredicatable motion of the barge.
“I know you miss the Old Urchin, but you can’t win him back by acting like him.” Lotus hoped to buy time by poking at the woman’s sore spot. “He doesn’t care for the deranged.”
Guo Jing, for the time being, was just about scraping by on his own against Qiu Qianren, drawing on Reverend Sole Light’s instructions to maintain an uninterrupted circulation of neigong energy around his body between each chop of his palms.
Buoyed by Madam Ying’s support, Qiu Qianren struck back with renewed vigor. He did not understand her change of heart, but that did not concern him, since he knew it would not be long before he had sapped the boy’s strength.
He avoided a razor-sharp slice from his opponent with a nimble twist of his waist, then thrust his palms out, his right above his left.
Guo Jing twirled his hands and pushed back with a Withdraw to Gain.
A clash of inner forces.
Huh! They each grunted as they scuttled back by three steps.
Qiu Qianren promptly regained his balance, but Guo Jing tripped over a coiled rope. He went with the fall, flipping into a roll to give himself time to find his footing, while drawing his arms in to protect his chest.
Cackling at the clumsy tumble, Qiu closed in to secure his victory.
5
Lotus, meanwhile, was hard pressed by Madam Ying’s relentless assault. Her breathing was getting shallower and beads of sweat were forming on her hairline. She knew she could not hold out much longer, and that fact was obvious to Madam Ying too, judging from the way she was relishing their duel.
Then, the sound of Qiu Qianren’s laughter boomed above the roaring torrent, the creaking timbers of his battered vessel. Abruptly, the flush of victory was wiped from Madam Ying’s face and she froze mid-move. She had just stabbed a bamboo slip at Lotus, and, though she should have pulled back to guard against a counter-thrust, she let her arm remain extended, leaving her core exposed.
Seeing her chance, Lotus speared the Dog Beater toward Madam Ying’s heart, aiming for her Spirit Repository pressure point.
The woman took no notice.
“It was you!” Madam Ying shrieked. A shudder racked her body, as though she had been swept by a demonic gust.
Then she pounced, arms flung wide, teeth bared, at Qiu Qianren.
To lock the man in her arms and tear at his flesh.
Qiu leaped sideways and barked, “What are you doing?” His heart quailed at her wild eyes and fearsome countenance.
Growling like an enraged tiger, Madam Ying launched herself at him again, without a thought for her own safety.
Qiu hammered a heavy blow down on her shoulder, one he was sure would shock her into drawing her arms up to block. Nay, he was wrong. She had only one concern: to seize him.
If she gets me in a body lock, the boy can strike me at will … A sudden fear for his life compelled Qiu to cut short his attack and scuttle portside, away from the possessed woman. An undignified retreat unworthy of a great Master, but, right now, staying alive mattered more than saving face.
Lotus took Guo Jing’s hand and pulled him aside to give Madam Ying more room.
Qiu ducked and dodged. His sophisticated skills had little chance to shine against an opponent who cared nothing for her own life.
She lunged. She clawed. Forcing him back toward the stern.
Her eyes bloodshot. Her face twisted in a mask of rage.
She sprang. She swiped. She had him trapped by the tiller.
This is it! This mad hag is my reckoning! The martial Master resigned himself to his fate as he shrank back.
She raised her hand again. Thump! The helmsman flew into the white water. A kick. The tiller splintered.
The boat began to whirl in wild circles.
Lotus groaned. Why does she have to go berserk now? She’ll kill us all! She pursed her lips to whistle for the condors.
Paaang! The vessel slammed sideways into a cluster of rocks.
A breach in the hull.
Qiu Qianren took a deep breath and got ready to jump. They were not that far from the shore. He might be able to leap all the way to safety. Either way, he would sooner try his luck with the rapids than let this demented woman drag him down to the netherworld.
He pushed off with all his might, but his momentum was spent one zhang from land. He plunged down and was dragged to the riverbed by a fierce undertow. Next thing he knew, he was spat out and swept downstream. It was his good fortune that spars of wood from his barge had been scattered far and wide by the collision. He grabbed hold of the first piece of flotsam that came his way, and kicked and splashed with every last drop of his neigong as the current churned him about. He was not a good swimmer, drinking a bellyful of murky water with each breath he took, but decades of martial training had fortified his strength and resilience. He fought tooth and nail against the rapids and eventually crawled ashore, bone-weary.
He slumped against a rock, gulping as much air as he could. When he looked up, he realized he had been washed a dozen li downriver. The wreck of his boat was a mere dark spot on the horizon, but he was convinced that he could still make out the bloodthirsty face of Madam Ying flashing her teeth and snapping her jaws at him.
* * *
“YOU CAN’T run from me!”
Madam Ying prepared to cast herself overboard after Qiu Qianren. Guo Jing could not bear to see her drown, so he dashed forward, pulling her back by the hem of her robe. The boat lurched, drawn by the turbulence into the heart of the river. She swung her palms in fury. He ducked, but held on tight.
“Leave her be! We have to go!” Lotus called, gesturing at the condors perched on the gunwale.
Guo Jing let go and all resistance went out of Madam Ying. She flopped onto her knees, her tearstained face buried in her hands.
“My son! My son!”
The wild water, sloshing around their ankles, was fast claiming the barge. Lotus urged Guo Jing once more to escape while he still could.
“Go!” he cried. “Send the condor back.”
“There isn’t time!”
“We promised Reverend Sole Light. We can’t leave her. Go!”
Lotus wavered. The monk had given up years of martial training to bring her back to life …
A thunderous crash. The barge groaned and shuddered. They had crashed into another cluster of boulders. The impact almost sent them flying.
<
br /> Water gushed in from every joint and crack.
They were going under. Fast.
“The rocks!” Lotus cried.
Guo Jing nodded and pulled Madam Ying to her feet. She complied, her body yielding and pliant, her blank eyes fixed on the swirling billows. He looped his arm around her back and heaved.
“Jump!” he said.
The three of them landed on the boulder at the same time.
The rapids lashed at the rock, drenching them with spray. In the short time it took them to secure their footing on the slippery surface, the barge was devoured by the ravenous torrent.
The condors had flown over, following Guo Jing’s call, but they too were intimidated by the feral river and would only circle overhead.
Lotus was no stranger to fierce currents, having grown up on an island, yet even she felt faint and dizzy at the sight of the water tearing past. She held her eyes averted to keep her head from spinning. Once she had steadied herself somewhat, she scanned the shore in search of a way out of their predicament.
A stout willow tree. About ten zhang from their refuge.
“Hold tight!” She grabbed Guo Jing’s hand, slipped into the water and dived down toward the sunken vessel.
Guo Jing wedged his feet into a crevice and lowered himself into the water, stretching as far as physically possible. He clutched Lotus’s wrist with his neigong strength, praying that his grip was firm enough and trying not to think about what might happen if …
Lotus unwound the halyard connecting the sail to the mast and tugged it free. With Guo Jing’s help, she climbed back onto the boulder and hauled in the rope.
“Dagger,” she said, when she had gathered a coil about twenty zhang in length. She cut the line and whistled, beckoning the female condor to land on her shoulder, but Guo Jing reached out and intercepted the bird, worried that his beloved’s small frame could not take the weight.
Lotus tied one end of the rope around the condor’s leg and pointed at the willow, gesturing that she should fly across to it and then come back.
The condor spread her wings and circled over the tree several times before returning.
