by Jin Yong
“We can … but finishing him off like that wouldn’t be very honorable.”
“What’s the point of being honorable with a scoundrel like him? Did he show mercy to your shifus? Was he honorable when he made his snake bite your fourth shifu in the tongue?”
White-hot rage flooded Guo Jing’s veins at this reminder of the Venom’s cruelty. He knew he might not get another chance to claim revenge.
“You’re right. Let’s do it,” he said, his jaw clenched.
Lotus accompanied Guo Jing to his ger, where they resumed their discussion of the Nine Yin Manual, only, this time, they could throw themselves into it without the need to put on an act. Throughout their exchange, they were both thrilled to discover how much the other’s martial understanding had improved over the past year. Unlike Guo Jing, Lotus had never memorized the original Sanskrit-inspired passage, and, since Reverend Sole Light’s translation had been in Guo Jing’s possession, her grasp of the Manual’s key tenets was incomplete. Now that she at last got to see the full picture, she felt energized, despite the late hour.
After a time, Guo Jing turned the conversation to another of his sworn enemies. “Wanyan Honglie is hiding in Samarkand, but we’re stuck outside the city walls. We can’t get to him. Have you got any idea how we can breach the city?”
“I’ve been thinking about that ever since we got here, but none of the plans I’ve come up with guarantee success.”
“What if we scale the walls? Among the Beggar Clan brothers, there must be at least a dozen with good enough lightness qinggong who could join us. Would that work?”
Lotus shook her head. “Archers are positioned almost shoulder to shoulder all the way along the ramparts. And, even if we managed to dodge the arrows on our climb and find a way into the city, how could so few of us tackle an army of a hundred thousand? We wouldn’t be able to force the gates open.”
The young couple were still talking at dawn the next day when Genghis Khan launched another attack on Samarkand. Thousands of soldiers manned his catapults, raining boulders down on the city. They also brought to bear the numerous cannons they had seized from the Jin and the Song armies. The bombardment, however, did little damage to the Khwarazmian troops taking shelter inside their barracks, and it was the common people who suffered, with many homes destroyed. The artillery assault continued for three days, but to little effect.
On the fourth day, snowflakes the size of goose down tumbled from the heavens. Guo Jing looked toward the mountaintop and shivered. “Viper Ouyang may not last ten days, in this weather.”
“He’ll live. Don’t forget his supreme neigong—” Lotus’s reply was swallowed by a gasp. Was that the Venom she could see jumping from the summit? “The Old Toad must have had enough. He’s seeking solace in death,” she said, pointing out the faraway speck in the sky.
She was just about to applaud his courage, when she noticed something strange about the distant figure. “How curious!” she muttered.
Rather than plunging straight down, Viper’s body was drifting and gliding like a kite. Could he have employed sorcery to slow his descent? Was that why he was floating to earth in such a leisurely manner? He was now closer to the ground, and Lotus could see him more clearly. The martial Master was stark naked, holding two conjoined balloons above his head.
“Pity!” Lotus sighed, realizing what he had done.
For all his martial prowess, Viper Ouyang had been dismayed to find himself trapped on Bald Tree Peak, a thousand zhang above the ground, with no way of getting down. But, after several days, chilled to the bone and with nothing to warm his stomach, he fixed upon a desperate idea. He took off his trousers and tied a tight knot at the hem of each leg, then removed the rest of his clothes, using them to reinforce the fabric. Gripping it by the waistline, he swung his creation windward and watched as it filled out with air. Gritting his teeth, he leaped from the mountain.
It was an extremely risky endeavor, a wild attempt to cling to life by embracing death, but Viper had no choice. The trousers billowed out as he had hoped, greatly reducing the downward pull of the fall. With nothing to protect him from the bitter cold, he was almost frozen stiff. All he could do was to draw on the full depths of his inner strength, forcing his qi around his body to resist the icy air and numbing snow.
Lotus could not decide if she found the Venom’s escape amusing or infuriating, but one thing was certain: she could think of no way to thwart his attempt. Meanwhile, every soldier in the two opposing armies, altogether several hundred thousand men, was staring up at the sky to marvel at the descent of this airborne figure. Many even prostrated themselves on the ground to greet what they believed to be the coming of a divine Immortal among men.
Studying the trajectory of Viper’s flight, Guo Jing realized that he would land within Samarkand’s walls, and, when the Martial Great was just several dozen zhang from the ground, he took an iron bow from a nearby soldier and let fly a number of arrows in quick succession. He guessed that the Venom would have difficulty twisting out of the way midair, but he was careful to aim for a part of his body that would not be susceptible to fatal injury, honoring his promise to spare the villain’s life for a third time.
Blessed with unrestricted sightlines as he glided down, Viper spotted the arrows hurtling toward his lower body and tucked in from the waist, hunching his back and kicking out with both feet to knock them off course.
Amid the general hubbub, Genghis Khan received a brief report from Guo Jing about the mysterious figure in the sky and ordered his archers to bring the Venom down. Ten thousand bows were drawn at once, and arrows flew across the sky like a meteor shower, every single one aimed at Viper Ouyang. Even if he had a thousand arms and ten thousand legs, he could not have deflected them all. And, since he was using every stitch of his clothing to slow his descent, he had nothing to twirl as a soft shield—and there was nothing he could dodge behind in the sky. The martial Master knew he needed to change his course drastically before he was impaled by countless arrows and reduced to a flying hedgehog.
Viper let go of his inflated trousers and immediately found himself flipped upside down, plummeting head first.
Every soldier cried out in shock, their voices shaking both heaven and earth.
The Venom flexed his stomach and launched himself toward a large banner flying from the ramparts, just as a blast of wind pulled the fabric taut, stretching it from west to east. Viper shot out his left hand and caught a corner of the flag. This brief contact allowed the Martial Great to transfer the force of the fall, tearing the banner in two and buying himself time to flip into a somersault, hook his feet around the flagpole and slide down, disappearing behind the defensive wall.
Awed by this amazing feat, the soldiers took to discussing at great length what they had just witnessed. Indeed, for a time, both sides seemed to have forgotten that they were in the midst of war.
Guo Jing watched the display in frustration. Lotus won’t be pleased that I’ll have to spare the Venom on our next encounter, he said to himself, and yet, when he turned to her, she was grinning radiantly. “Why are you so happy?”
She clapped her hands. “I’ve got a present for you. Are you excited?”
“What is it?”
“The city of Samarkand.”
Guo Jing was flummoxed.
“The Venom has shown us the way into the city. Get your soldiers ready. We will win a great victory tonight.” She then leaned close, speaking in a whisper. Her words had him applauding in delight.
7
Guo Jing’s men received their covert orders in the early afternoon. They were to cut up their gers to fashion circular canopies on which they would fasten strong leather ropes. And they had just three hours to produce ten thousand of them. The soldiers were hesitant. If they dismantled their shelters now, how would they survive the bitter cold at night? And yet there was no question of defying their commander.
Meanwhile, Guo Jing arranged for all the cattle in the camp to be herd
ed to the base of Bald Tree Peak. Then, he gave his men their orders. Ten thousand men were to wait out of arrow range in sight of Samarkand’s north gate, split into four formations: Shielding Sky, Embracing Earth, Rising Wind and Hanging Cloud. They were warned to be on the lookout for enemy generals and other high-ranking officers coming their way. Another ten thousand fighters would conceal themselves at the foot of the wall either side of the north gate, divided into Soaring Dragon, Winged Tiger, Gliding Bird and Coiling Snake battle arrays, responsible for driving enemy soldiers into their brothers-in-arms facing the gate. A third unit of ten thousand was told to arm themselves lightly and wait for his instructions.
At nightfall, after the troops had filled their bellies, the two divisions marched for the north gate. Three hours before midnight, Guo Jing sent word to Genghis Khan that Samarkand’s defenses would soon be breached and that the whole army should be ready to storm the city. Stunned by Guo Jing’s claim, the warrior demanded that the young commander explain himself in person, but the messenger simply replied, “The Prince of the Golden Blade has already set off. He looks forward to toasting your victory.”
Guo Jing sounded the bugle from the base of Bald Tree Peak, and a thousand of his men began to slaughter the cattle, pressing warm, bloody flesh to the icy crag to construct the makeshift stairways. The martial Masters from the Beggar Clan hopped up and down using their lightness kung fu, passing around animals and body parts, and, in no time, several dozen ladders were ready.
At Guo Jing’s command, ten thousand soldiers clambered after their General, scaling the cliff, each man fastened to the next by a length of rope. Despite their numbers, they ascended in absolute silence, for they had been warned not to make the slightest sound. From afar, it looked as though dozens of dragons were winding their way up the mountain on this cold, dark night.
The summit was just about large enough to accommodate ten thousand men tightly packed together. Guo Jing ordered the soldiers to attach the canopies they had made that afternoon to their shoulders and jump down into the city, weapons at the ready. Their target was the south gate.
Striking his hands together, Guo Jing gave the signal to commence and leaped from the cliff, followed by several hundred Beggar Clan members. The Mongolian troops were known for their exceptional courage, so, despite the obvious dangers of jumping from such a great height, they boldly followed their commander’s lead. After all, they had seen Viper Ouyang’s graceful descent, and his equipment had been far less sturdy than what was now strapped to their backs. As the soldiers stepped off the edge of the mountain, the canopies billowed out like ten thousand flowers blooming all at once, allowing the men to drift steadily down.
A flush of excitement washed over Lotus as she watched the successful realization of her plan. She cared little if Genghis Khan took this city, for the Mongolians’ military exploits meant nothing to her, but, if Guo Jing were victorious, he could ask for something that meant a great deal to both of them—if he were willing to listen to her advice.
The moment Guo Jing’s feet touched the ground, he ripped the canopy from his back and swung his saber at a knot of enemy soldiers. By now, a small portion of the city’s troops had woken to the sight of the Mongols descending from the heavens. As they registered the scale of the aerial assault, their fighting spirit instantly dissolved and mass panic took hold.
The first group to land were the Beggar Clan members. Well trained in the martial arts, they did not take long in battling through the demoralized defenders to close in on the city’s south gate.
Although most of the Mongolian troops survived the descent, only one or two thousand managed to land near the assembly point, and several hundred men perished because their canopy failed or they were hit by arrows. More than half were scattered by the wind to different parts of the city, where, outnumbered by the Khwarazmians, many were captured or killed. Guo Jing split the warriors he had on hand into two groups: one to seize control of the south gate, the other to protect their comrades, fending off attacks from their foes.
Astonished and delighted by the sight of Guo Jing’s troops descending into Samarkand, Genghis Khan mobilized the whole army. They arrived to find the south gate already open, guarded by several hundred Mongolians. Battalions of a thousand men filed in, one after another, joining their brothers-in-arms inside to subdue the city’s garrison.
The Khwarazmian army, though more than a hundred thousand strong, was fast collapsing. As the Mongolians advanced, they doused buildings with rock oil, and soon the city was ablaze, which only added to the chaos. Assured that his men still held the city’s north gate, Shah Muhammad decided to flee in that direction, emerging to find Guo Jing’s men waiting for him outside. The Shah had no desire to engage them. He sent word ordering Wanyan Honglie to maintain a rear guard and spurred ahead, surrounded by his personal guards.
Guo Jing caught a flash of Wanyan Honglie’s golden helmet in the midst of the retreating troops and led a unit in pursuit. He was determined to capture the Jin Prince, but although the Khwarazmian army had suffered a crippling defeat, they were still a force to be reckoned with. They threw themselves at Guo Jing’s soldiers outside the north gate like cornered beasts, for breaking through seemed their only hope of getting out alive.
Word soon reached Guo Jing that the Khwarazmians were pushing back the two divisions he had ordered to lie in ambush. The situation brought to mind an ancient Chinese military maxim that urged commanders to show mercy when they held the advantage: “Fall not for bait, strike not those in retreat, trap not those under siege, chase not the desperate.” With this in mind, Guo Jing called for a change in tactics.
Responding to a wave of the signal flag, the four formations facing the north gate—Sky, Earth, Wind and Cloud—parted to allow their fleeing adversaries through. Once the majority of Samarkand’s routed troops had charged past, the flag was raised and cannons sounded to call the four formations back into position, ready to face the last remnants of the Khwarazmian rear guard. Despite their fearsome reputation, these elite troops had lost all desire to fight after the city’s fall, and, since they were also heavily outnumbered, they were quickly surrounded and disarmed. Guo Jing personally inspected the prisoners, one by one, but he did not find the Jin Prince hiding among them. He might have won the day, but he did not feel the flush of triumph, for his two arch enemies, Wanyan Honglie and Viper Ouyang, had evaded him amid the chaos of battle.
8
Samarkand’s last remaining forces had been mopped up by the time the sky was fully light. Genghis Khan installed himself in Shah Muhammad’s palace and summoned his generals.
Guo Jing was visiting the wounded when he heard the Great Khan’s golden bugle. He immediately followed the sound of the call, which brought him to the square outside the royal residence. By its grand entrance stood a small knot of warriors, among them Lotus and the Beggar Clan Elders. Spotting Guo Jing, Lotus clapped her hands and two soldiers dragged forward a large sack, setting it at her feet.
“Guess what’s in here,” she said with a chuckle.
“How can I? This city has everything.”
Lotus gave the sack a tug and out rolled a man. Disheveled hair, a split lip—he was wearing the standard-issue fur coat worn by the Khwarazmian soldiers, but it was a face Guo Jing knew well. The Jin Prince Wanyan Honglie.
“Marvelous! Where did you find him?”
“I spotted a unit with the Prince of Zhao’s banner among the troops fleeing through the north gate. A general in a gold helmet and brocade robe led them east. I didn’t believe that someone as calculating as Wanyan Honglie would withdraw under his own flag, so I knew they were a decoy. Since they were heading east, it meant the cunning fox must be going west—and he ran straight into my ambush.”
Lotus produced a dagger and held it out solemnly. It was the one given to Skyfury Guo by Qiu Chuji when the Taoist came up with Guo Jing’s name, carving it on the hilt. Another, presented to Ironheart Yang, was inscribed with the characters
Yang Kang and was now in Mercy Mu’s possession.
“My congratulations,” she said, “for you shall avenge your father today. Use this,” she added as she handed over the dagger. “It will please his spirit in the heavens to know that it dealt the fatal blow.”
Guo Jing took the weapon and bowed low. “Lotus, I don’t know how to thank you for helping me in this matter.”
She smiled. “It was just luck. Now listen, you’ve won a major victory today, and the Great Khan is sure to reward you handsomely. You should think about what you’d like from him.”
“There’s nothing I want.”
“Come here.” She beckoned him over, taking a few steps away from the others, so they would not be overheard. Once Guo Jing was up close, she said in a quiet voice, “Is there really nothing in the world that you’d like?”
Guo Jing thought hard, sensing there were hidden depths to her question. “There is one thing,” he said eventually. “I never want to be parted from you again.”
“Considering what you’ve achieved today, I think the Great Khan will overlook any offense your request may cause.”
Guo Jing grunted in vague agreement, but he did not seem to have grasped her meaning. Lotus was forced to spell it out: “If you ask him for any rank or title, he’ll agree to it, but you can also ask him to take away any rank or title already granted. It will be hard for him to refuse—so long as you first get him to give his word that he’ll grant you anything you ask.”
“Right…”
The sluggish way he uttered this one-word reply and the sheepish manner in which he scratched his head infuriated Lotus. “You rather enjoy being the Prince of the Golden Blade, don’t you?”
“Oh!” At last, Guo Jing caught on to what Lotus was trying to get at. “You want me to ask the Great Khan to free me from my betrothal to Khojin.”
“That’s your decision. Maybe you do really want to be a Prince.” Lotus’s displeasure was apparent.
