by Jin Yong
“No! Loop it around the tree!” Lotus hissed, but, of course, the bird could not comprehend her words or her frustration.
Lotus sent the condor to the tree again and again, and each time it wheeled high above the branches. But, on the eighth attempt, she succeeded in persuading the raptor to fly low enough so that, when she turned back, she looped the rope around the willow’s robust trunk.
Thrilled, Lotus pulled the line taut and secured it with Guo Jing’s help.
“Go on,” he said to her.
She gestured at Madam Ying. “Let her go first.”
Glowering, the woman grabbed the rope and hauled herself forward, one hand at a time, wading through the water at first, before hoisting herself above it.
Lotus cast Guo Jing a knowing grin. “Great Lord, if you enjoy this little trick, be generous with your tip.” With those words, she leaped up and landed on the line, holding out the Dog-Beating Cane to keep herself steady. Then, like an acrobat, she tightrope-walked over to the willow tree using lightness qinggong.
Having never before attempted such a feat himself, Guo Jing decided to imitate Madam Ying’s more down-to-earth method, trusting to his grip rather than his balance.
He was a short distance from the shore when he heard Lotus yell, “Hey! Where are you going?”
He pulled himself forward faster, afraid that Madam Ying, in her frenzied state, might rush headlong into harm’s way, then he swung down to the ground.
“She’s gone.”
Guo Jing looked toward where Lotus was pointing. Madam Ying was scuttling south over rocks and boulders.
“We have to follow her,” he said. “She’s not in her right mind. She may run into danger.”
“Of course.” Lotus tried to take a step forward, but her legs buckled and she sank to her knees. Shaking her head, she realized that the escapade had been too much for her recovering body.
“Rest here, I’ll find her.” Guo Jing took off after Madam Ying, but soon he came to a gully full of craggy rocks and chest-high weeds. Three paths fanned out before him, and there was nothing to indicate which of them she had taken.
As light began to fail, Guo Jing thought of Lotus, alone and defenseless by the river, and turned back.
6
Guo Jing and Lotus spent a fitful night on the rocky shore, their empty stomachs growling in protest. Once it was light enough, they picked their way along the river, calling for Ulaan. On and on they walked, but there was no sign of the horse. It was past midday when they came across a small tavern, where they bought three roosters from the innkeeper. They gave the condors one each, while Lotus roasted the third over a fire—their first meal since the wreck of their barge.
The birds flew up a nearby tree with their roosters and tore at the flesh with glee, raining down a shower of fluttering feathers. Then, out of the blue, the female condor screeched and took to the sky, flinging away the half-eaten carcass. The male raptor arched his pinions and joined his mate, filling the air with urgent caws.
“They sound tetchy.” Guo Jing had never seen them act like this.
“Let’s see what they’re up to.”
They hurried after the birds, which were now wheeling high in the sky some distance away. The condors swooped in a synchronized dive, plunging beneath the treeline before shooting back up wing to wing.
“They’re attacking something on the ground!” Guo Jing exclaimed.
Two or three li later, they found themselves at the edge of a market town. The condors flew back and forth over the houses, searching for their prey.
Guo Jing whistled, but they ignored him.
“What has upset them so much?” He was perplexed.
At length, the birds returned to them, though they were in a troubling state. Blood streamed from a deep cut on the male condor’s foot. A lesser creature would have lost it altogther.
The female condor was clutching something in her talons. It took Guo Jing some time to coax her into letting go of it, and, when she finally relented, he was aghast to find a gory, hairy mess in his hand.
“The condors have never attacked anyone for no reason. What do you think happened?” He turned the freshly torn scalp this way and that, unable to fathom what would have made the bird sink her claws into someone’s head.
“We’ll know when we find whoever it belongs to,” Lotus said as she tended to the male condor’s cut.
They found a guest house for the night, then split up to search for the scalped man. The market was bustling and full of people—they combed every street and alleyway until sundown, but found nothing.
“I looked everywhere, but I didn’t see anyone with a raw wound on his head,” Guo Jing said, dejected.
“He probably covered it up.”
“Oh!” He had seen many men in hats … but he couldn’t have gone up and ripped a stranger’s cap off, could he?
* * *
THE NEXT morning, they woke to find Ulaan outside the guest house, having been guided there by the condors. Although they still wanted to know who the raptors had mutilated, there were more pressing matters at hand and they knew they should not tarry in the town. They had to get to Lin’an to find Count Seven Hong so they could share the method that would allow him to recover from his injury, then to Peach Blossom Island to check on Lotus’s father, and then to Jiaxing in time for the martial contest with Tiger Peng and his cronies on Moon Festival, which was less than a fortnight away.
Lotus was in high spirits, chuckling and chattering away as they were whisked along on Ulaan’s back. The condors watched over the three of them from the sky. Each night, she sat on the bed in their inn or guest house, hugging her knees, and prattled on about nothing in particular until it was long past midnight. Guo Jing could see that she was exhausted, but she ignored his pleas to get some sleep and kept drawing him into conversation.
Several days of hard riding later, they found themselves within reach of the Eastern Sea, crossing from West Jiangnan to the eastern part of the Two Zhes, where they found an inn for the night. After a short rest in their room, Lotus asked the innkeeper for a basket so she could shop for dinner.
“Let them bring us our meal,” Guo Jing said. “We’ve been on the road all day. You must be exhausted.”
“But I want to cook for you! Don’t you like my food?”
“Of course, I love all your dishes, but, right now, you need rest. There’ll be plenty of time to cook for me when you’re better.”
“Plenty of time…?” Lotus froze in the doorway, one foot in the courtyard outside. A faraway, vacant look in her eyes.
Guo Jing took the basket from her arm. “We’ll find Shifu and the three of us will enjoy your wonderful cooking together.”
A moment later, she turned back and cast herself facedown onto the bed.
Guo Jing had not the faintest idea what was going through Lotus’s mind. He assumed the journey was catching up with her and she was having a nap, but, in actual fact, tears were staining her cheeks and the bedclothes. He stayed still and quiet, lest he woke her, and only tiptoed over when he heard the call for dinner.
“We’re not eating here. Come with me.” She gave him a broad grin and jumped to her feet.
Lotus wandered through the town until they heard blaring trumpets and crashing cymbals coming from an imposing mansion guarded by white walls and a sturdy gate. She observed the steady stream of guests flowing in through the wide-open main entrance and led Guo Jing along the perimeter until they arrived at the rear garden. Without a word, she leaped over the wall and marched across the courtyard, making straight for the main hall. Guo Jing trailed after her, out of habit.
The main hall was the grandest part of the house and it glittered with candles and lamps. Inside, a magnificent spread of food and drink was laid out on three round tables, each seating ten to twelve men, merrily feasting.
A banquet in full swing.
“Marvelous! We’ve come at the perfect time,” Lotus said aloud to no one in particular.
>
She strolled in, giggling to herself, then announced to the whole room: “Begone!”
The host and his thirty-odd guests just stared at the teenage girl.
Lotus pulled the man sitting closest to her from his chair and hooked her foot against his ankles. His fleshy bulk crashed to the floor. The guests needed no further persuasion. They shot to their feet, knocking over chairs and each other in the scrum to get away.
A dozen men armed with sabers and spears rushed into the hall in response to their master’s cry of distress. Lotus turned to face them, beaming, and, within two moves, she had subdued the two brawlers leading the ragtag band and snatched up one of their blades. Brandishing the weapon, she charged at the rest of the men. They pushed and shoved their way out of the banquet hall, shrieking for clemency.
Spying that the aged master of the house was attempting to slink away, Lotus darted after him and grabbed him by his grizzled beard. She held the saber menacingly over his head.
“K-kind and merciful miss!” The man fell to his knees. “I-i-if you want gold … take it! Spare this old fellow. Please…”
“Who says I want gold? Get up and drink with us.” Still gripping his beard, Lotus pulled him to his feet. His chin and cheeks burned with searing pain, but he dared not make a sound in protest. She beckoned Guo Jing to join her at the head table, in the place set for the guest of honor.
“C’mon, sit!” She grinned at the shivering merrymakers who had remained in the hall, paralyzed with fear.
“Why are you all standing?” A flourish of her hand. The saber stood quivering, its point driven into the tabletop.
The guests fell over themselves in their haste to sit at the unoccupied tables.
“You don’t want to sit with us?” Lotus’s eyes swept over their stupefied faces before settling on the blade. It was still trembling from the force that had planted it upright in the wood.
Now, the men jostled for a place at the head table, sending chairs crashing to the floor as they fought for a seat.
“A pack of three-year-olds would have better manners than you lot!”
More shoving and elbowing. At last, the guests were evenly spread among the three tables.
Lotus poured herself a cup of wine. “What’s the occasion? Why this banquet tonight?”
“Ummm … i-it-it’s for my s-s-son. B-b-born one m-moo-moon ago,” the master of the house stammered.
“A newborn babe at your ripe old age! Aaah, how sweet! I want to meet him.”
The man’s face turned an earthen hue. What if she…? But, after a quick glance at the saber sticking out from the table, he sent for the wet nurse.
Lotus cradled the baby and studied his chubby little face by the candlelight, then, tipping her head to the side, flicked her eyes up to take in his father’s features.
“Can’t see any resemblance. He can’t be yours.”
Mortified, the man muttered, “Yea—yes…”
It was impossible to tell if he was agreeing with her, or if he was trying to say that he had indeed sired the boy.
“The kind miss speaks the truth,” he added after a pause, quaking in terror.
There were some among the frightened guests who were sorely tempted to make a joke at the man’s expense, yet they were also aware that the slightest reaction could provoke the mercurial girl, so they tried to remain as still and as silent as possible.
Lotus took out a sycee ingot of gold, pressed it into the nurse’s hand then returned the child to her trembling arms.
“A little gift from your grandmama,” she cooed.
The guests were gobsmacked. Such generosity! But why did she call herself grandmother when she was not much older than a child herself? None of it made sense.
The boy’s father thanked the kind miss profusely, relieved that danger had passed.
Lotus picked up a large bowl and set it before him with an exaggerated show of good humor.
“A toast to you!” she said, filling it to the brim.
“Begging your pardon, Auntie.” The host, assuming that the girl liked being treated as a senior, decided to play along. “I don’t have the constitution for drink.”
But that was not what Lotus wanted to hear.
“Is this a birthday or a funeral?” She yanked his beard. Her arched eyebrows mirrored the aggression in her tone.
The man raised the bowl and glugged down its contents.
“That’s more like it!” She nodded her approval. “Shall we play a drinking game?”
The guests were eager to obey, but this bunch of moneyed merchants, landed gentry and minor scholars, though literate, did not possess the mental dexterity or poetic flair for clever puns and wordplay required for the kind of literati drinking games Lotus had in mind.
Irritated by the uninspired responses they were cobbling together, Lotus jabbed her finger toward the back wall. “Stand over there!”
The sound of chairs scraping the tiled floor gave way to the patter of scrabbling feet. A sense of relief filled the room. The men felt like they had been granted a stay of execution.
Just then—thump!—the master of the house crashed backward in his chair. He had succumbed to the wine.
Lotus roared with laughter and turned to a bemused Guo Jing. She helped herself to food and wine and began chattering about everything and nothing, as though they had the hall to themselves.
The guests, afraid to utter a sound, stood on ceremony. The young couple drank and feasted until well into the second watch of the night. Only then, after repeated pleas from Guo Jing, was Lotus ready to leave.
When they were at last back at the guest house, Lotus asked with a cheeky smile, “Did you have fun?”
“I don’t see the fun in frightening those poor souls.”
“I do what gives me peace. It’s not my concern if other people live or die.”
Guo Jing was struck by her strange tone, and he could not fathom the meaning of her words.
A moment later, she said, “I’m going for a walk. Are you coming?”
“Now? It’s late.”
“Grandmama can’t stop thinking about her cute little babe.”
“You can’t—”
She cut him off. “Stop fretting! I’ll bring him back. In a few days. When I’m done playing with him.”
Laughing, she bolted through the doorway and hopped over the guest house’s outer wall.
Guo Jing hastened after her and seized her by the arm.
“Lotus! Enough!”
“No!” She whipped round to confront him. “Not enough! I only have fun when I’m with you, but you’re leaving—leaving me—in a few days. You’re leaving me to spend your life with Princess Khojin. She’ll stop you from seeing me. I know she will.
“Each day I spend with you is one less I have in your company. That’s why I’m cramming so much into every moment. I want to do two, three—nay—four days’ worth of things with you in just a single day. Yet, I still want more, it’s not enough, do you understand, Guo Jing? Do you see why I won’t go to sleep? By staying up late, I get to talk with you that little bit longer … Do you get it, now? Do you still want to stop me?”
“You know I’m a muddlehead, Lotus.” Guo Jing clasped his hands over hers. “I—I’m sorry that I didn’t realize this is how you … I—I … I can’t leave you…” He did not have the words to make sense of this jumble of feelings.
Lotus gave him a rueful smile. “Papa taught me so many lyric poems and I never grasped why they always seemed to be about some kind of anguished woe. I thought perhaps they spoke to him because he missed Mama. Now I understand what they’re trying to say: joy and good spirits are fleeting, but gloom and misery stay with you for a lifetime. And now I see why Papa keeps telling me, ‘None in this world lives with a heart unhurt.’ Because that’s how it is…”
The tips of the willow trees shimmered in the silver moonlight. A gentle breeze tugged at their robes, washing over their skin like cool water.
Guo Jing h
ad never been perceptive when it came to feelings—his own or another’s. Although he was aware of the depth of Lotus’s affection for him, he had never imagined that, when love took root in the heart, it could wreak such havoc. Her words made him see the last few days in a different light.
Yes, I’ll miss her very, very much when I’m back in Mongolia, but I’ll find ways to cope, he told himself, because I’m rough-hewn and thick-skinned. What about her? She’s nothing like me. She’ll be on her own on Peach Blossom Island, with just her father for company … and, one day, he’ll leave her for the next world. Who will she have then? Just a handful of deaf and mute servants. And her own thoughts, turning round and round in her head, day after day. That’s the fate I’ve condemned her to—I’m burying her alive.
The realization cut deep, making his whole body tremble. He clasped her hands tighter, his eyes drinking in her forlorn face.
“Lotus, let the heavens crash down, I’ll keep you company on Peach Blossom Island all my life.”
His words sent a jolt through her body.
“What—what did you say?” she asked in a quavering voice, meeting his eyes.
“I don’t care what Genghis Khan wants. I don’t care what Khojin wants. I want to spend my life with you.”
Since he had agreed to honor his promise to marry Khojin, he had been plagued by his decision. Now that he had cast off his scruples to follow his heart, he felt unfettered for the first time in weeks.
Guo Jing clasped Lotus close to his chest. She melted into his embrace, and her breath caught in her throat. The world fell away when they were in each other’s arms.
They stayed like that for a long time without exchanging a word. At length, Lotus muttered into his chest, “But your ma…”
“I’ll bring her back south, and she can live with us on Peach Blossom Island.”
“And your teacher, Jebe? Your sworn brother, Tolui?”
“I’ll just have to owe them a debt of friendship. I can’t split my heart into two.”
“What would your six shifus say? What about Reverend Ma and Reverend Qiu?”
“I’ll live with their scorn and implore them to accept us.” Guo Jing heaved a sigh. “Lotus, you won’t part from me, and I’ll never part from you.”
