by Jin Yong
Count Seven rushed in to jab the Phoenix Tail pressure point at the base of the Venom’s spine, but it had no effect whatsoever. The inversed meridian flow had shifted the position of every acupoint in Viper’s body.
Lotus crept up, hoping to hit Viper on the head with a rock. The deranged martial Master balled his right hand into a fist and threw an uppercut, sending the stone flying into the air. Guo Jing seized his chance, taking advantage of the distraction to ease himself out of Viper’s grip and leap out of reach.
Their embrace broken, the Venom seemed to forget about him instantly, focusing instead on a renewed tussle with the Heretic. This time, Apothecary Huang was fighting barehanded, his iron flute tucked into his belt. Every move Viper made was more outlandish than the last. Sometimes he was upside down, sometimes he was the right way up. He even supported himself with just one hand, holding his body stretched out parallel to the ground, while his free hand thrust and probed, weaving one complex pattern after another.
Apothecary Huang was too busy defending himself to pay much attention to these unusual stances, but the other three were awed by the display.
Lotus could not bear to see her father so hard-pressed. “Shifu, we shouldn’t have to follow the wulin rules when dealing with a mad man like him. Let’s help Papa!”
Count Seven’s expression was grim. “I’d agree with you on any other day, but today is the Contest of Mount Hua. Only single combat is permitted. If we gang up on the Venom, we’ll be mocked by every hero of the jianghu.”
Even as they deliberated, Viper’s onslaught was growing ever more frenzied. Foaming at the mouth, he had now taken to charging into his opponent with his head lowered. The demented way he threw himself into each attack forced Apothecary Huang to fall farther and farther back.
Suddenly, Viper paused, twitching and shuddering, his eyes rolling in his head, before lurching forward without warning to launch a fresh tide of relentless, maddened fury. But, this time, he left his upper body undefended.
Only the truly insane fight with so little regard for their own well-being, Apothecary Huang said to himself, sensing an opportunity to neutralize his opponent once and for all. He flexed the fingers of his right hand in a Supernal Flick, aiming for the Welcome Fragrance pressure point on the side of the Venom’s nose.
Apothecary Huang’s lunge was impossibly quick, far outstripping the human eye, but just as his fingertip grazed Viper Ouyang’s nose, the man twisted around and sunk his teeth into the offending digit.
Horrified, the Heretic groped for the Venom’s temple, aiming for the Great Sun point, but the Venom simply brushed his hand away and bit down harder.
Guo Jing pounced on Viper Ouyang and snaked his arm around his neck in a wrestling move he had learned growing up on the Mongolian steppe. The Venom let his jaw slacken and swiveled out of the headlock.
“Well done, Guo Jing!” Lotus cried, applauding. “That’s what a good son-in-law should do!”
Apothecary Huang also granted Guo Jing a smile, impressed by his swift and selfless intervention.
But now Lotus was forced to rush to Guo Jing’s aid as Viper Ouyang turned his vicious moves on him. Sensing her approach, the Venom snapped around and clawed at her face with both hands. In the glaring sunlight, the snarl on his blood-stained features was a terrifying sight. Lotus stumbled back with a yelp, while Guo Jing threw a palm strike to draw the Venom’s attention. The young man paid a price for his gallantry—after just a dozen exchanges, he had taken blows on the shoulder and the leg.
“Guo Jing, get back, let me try.” Count Seven stepped forward, barehanded this time. He had now observed Viper Ouyang’s peculiar kung fu long enough to identify a rough pattern. These mercurial new moves resembled the Venom’s most frequently employed palm techniques, but they were often inverted—what had been high was now low, and left had been swapped with right. Although the reversals were not so straightforward in every case, the Beggar now had a general idea of what the Venom might do next, and was able to launch a counterstroke once every three moves.
Apothecary Huang kept his eyes trained on the duel while Lotus bandaged his finger with a handkerchief. He also recognized familiar elements in Viper’s movements, and, once he started to spot gaps in his attack, he began to call them out:
“Brother Seven, kick him at Jumping Round, in the buttocks!”
“Uppercut to the Great Tower Gate, in the stomach!”
“Backhand slash to Celestial Pillar, at the back of the neck.”
With Apothecary Huang’s help, Count Seven Hong was at last fighting Viper Ouyang on an equal footing, but it was humiliating that it had required their combined efforts to get him to this point.
Little by little, the Beggar was taking control of the fight, and, to all watching, it seemed certain that, in a few more moves, he would emerge victorious. Suddenly, he heard Viper hawking up phlegm in his throat and, moments later, the fruits of the Venom’s labors came flying at his face. He twisted aside, avoiding the spittle, but the Venom had anticipated his reaction and was hacking his palm down to shut off his escape, while coughing up and sending forth another gob of expectorate.
Count Seven was now caught between Viper’s strange kung fu and the disgusting projectile heading his way. He would prefer not to be hit by the sputum, seeing as it was dispatched with a martial Master’s internal force. If it hit him in the eye, the main concern, other than the pain would be the opportunity it would give Viper to sneak up on him. With great reluctance, Count Seven snatched the slobber in his right hand, then thrust his left in retaliation. Viper dredged up yet more mucus—he had now added shooting phlegm from his lips to his martial repertoire—while continuing to throw punches and palm strikes.
Count Seven burned with fury at this insulting attack. The slimy sensation in his right hand was becoming unbearable, but he did not want to wipe the gunk onto his clothes.
“This is yours!” the Beggar cried, lurching forward to smear it over the Venom’s face. The move contained a hidden, lethal sting.
Despite his confused state of mind, Viper Ouyang was physically more alert and responsive than ever. He turned his head by a fraction, evading the Beggar’s swipe with ease. Count Seven flipped his palm over and thrust, aiming a finger jab at his opponent’s face. Viper bared his teeth, ready to snap his jaw shut.
The very move that had caught Apothecary Huang unawares. Though absurd and undignified, it was executed with such rapidity that it was impossible to avoid.
Apothecary Huang, Guo Jing and Lotus saw what was coming. Count Seven’s hand was less than an inch from Viper’s mouth. They stood transfixed as the Venom parted his lips, revealing two rows of white teeth gleaming in the sun.
“Watch out!”
“Oh no!”
All four of them, Viper included, had forgotten one thing. Count Seven Hong had two titles. Beggar of the North was one. The other was Divine Vagrant Nine Fingers. Years ago, thanks to his gluttony, he lost track of time and failed to save the life of a good man of the jianghu. To punish himself for his lack of self-control, he cut off the forefinger—which is associated with the appetite—of his right hand.
Viper’s bite was quick and precise. Clack! His jaw snapped shut on … nothing. Of course, the story of the Beggar’s missing finger was well known throughout the wulin, but, in such an intense contest, one that had seen Viper pouncing and prowling like a mad tiger, how could he be expected to recall such a minor detail?
And small errors of this kind were often what determined the outcome of a duel between great Masters of equal standing—otherwise the fight would last for days. Taking advantage of the split second it took Viper to react to his misjudgment, Count Seven launched a Hearty Laughter, poking the Earth Granary vital point at the corner of the Venom’s mouth with his middle finger.
Viper Ouyang felt the hit on this major pressure point of the Stomach Meridian, but his inverted energy flow meant that the attack only caused a slight numbness in his body. In no time at al
l, he had regained his full range of motion and was able to retaliate with a palm strike to the Beggar’s shoulder.
Fortunately for Count Seven Hong, the acupoint jab had succeeded in curtailing Viper’s strength to some extent, and he managed to dissipate the brunt of the blow’s remaining neigong energy by flipping backward along its path. It was not an elegant retreat, but it bought the Beggar enough time and space to launch one final, desperate counterattack. Digging his right heel into the ground to anchor himself, he let fly with a Dragon in the Field.
The powerful strike forced the Venom to stagger back several steps, tottering unsteadily like a drunkard. When he finally secured his footing, he threw his head back and cackled at the sky.
Count Seven had escaped unscathed, but he was numb and sore. As an experienced grandmaster, he knew it was time to withdraw from the fight and admit defeat. He wrapped his palm over his fist and said, “Brother Ouyang, this Old Beggar concedes. The day is yours. You are the Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens.”
Viper let out another laugh and threw his arms up in feverish excitement. He turned to Apothecary Huang. “King Duan, do you concede?”
The Heretic was reluctant to accept that he had been bested, especially by a man who had clearly lost his wits. He realized that, if they allowed Viper Ouyang to claim the title, he and the Beggar would be the laughing stock of the wulin, but neither of them stood a chance against the crazed martial Master, so he had no choice but to nod grudgingly.
“My son, are you happy? Your papa is invincible! No one can match your papa’s kung fu!” Once again, Viper was mistaking Guo Jing for Gallant Ouyang. In his confusion, he had also revealed a long-hidden secret: Gallant was known publicly as his nephew, but he was in fact Viper’s own issue—the secret love child of a liaison with his sister-in-law.
“We can’t beat you,” Guo Jing said, for it was the truth and he could not deny that Viper deserved the honor.
Viper greeted his submission with gleeful laughter, before turning to Lotus. “Are you pleased, dear daughter?”
Lotus had not stopped thinking of ways to tackle the madman in their midst. Now, at last, she felt an idea was within her grasp. The confused questions, the odd expressions, the waving arms and tapping feet, his shadow dancing about in the same manic way … it all pointed to one thing …
“Who says you’re the Greatest?” Lotus said. “There’s still someone you can’t beat.”
Viper Ouyang thumped his chest and roared in fury. “Who? Who is this person? Tell him to come here and fight me now!”
“He’s very skilled. You don’t stand a chance.”
“Who is he? Tell him to come now!”
“Viper Ouyang.”
The Venom scratched his head. “… Viper … Ouyang?”
“Yes. Viper Ouyang. Your kung fu is excellent, but you can’t beat Viper Ouyang.”
The name whirled round and round the Venom’s chaotic mind. “Viper Ouyang” sounded so familiar. He felt it was someone he knew intimately … but, then again … he was not sure who he was anymore …
“Who am I?” he blurted out.
“You are you. Think! Who are you?”
A chill went through Viper’s heart. He asked himself as Lotus had suggested, and felt his tangled thoughts growing more and more knotted and the answer ever more elusive.
The questions of “Who am I?”, “What was I before I was born?”, “What will become of me when I die?”, which had haunted philosophers through the ages, had, on occasion, kept Viper Ouyang awake at night too. And, in his current confused state, they were enough to send him into a stupor.
The Venom looked around blankly, muttering, “Me? Who am I? Where am I? What’s happened to me?”
“Viper Ouyang wants to fight you. He wants your Nine Yin Manual.”
“Where is he?”
Lotus pointed at his shadow. “There. Behind you.”
The Venom spun round. With the sun on his back, a crisp silhouette of his body was cast on the cliff wall. He punched. He thrust his palm. The dark shape on the rock face mirrored his exact movements. He sent a flying kick, striking his foot into the rock. He pulled back in great pain, startled.
“What … He…” the Martial Great stammered.
“He hit back,” Lotus observed, her tone matter of fact.
The Venom crouched and launched his palms at the shadow. The inky double responded simultaneously with the same kung fu. He felt a solid force resisting him and his opponent did not quail in the slightest. Panicked, he delivered a rapid-fire barrage—left, right, left, right. The darkened figure responded in kind, matching strength with strength. When he channeled more power into each blow, his adversary retaliated with equal force.
Recognizing that he was up against a truly formidable foe, the Venom turned side on to his opponent to better guard his frame. Now that he was facing the sun, his shadow was behind him.
“Where are you going?” He spun round and leaped at the fleeing silhouette with the sun on his back.
On this stretch of cliff wall, his shadow looked as if it were standing up straight. The Venom swung his right palm and it landed square on his opponent, but so intense was the pain that he thought his bones had been crushed.
“Good kung fu!” the Venom cried, letting fly with his left foot.
His foe intercepted him with the same move, and agonizing pain followed.
Viper Ouyang dared not launch another attack. He turned and fled, running in the direction of the sun. After a short while, he was relieved to discover that he had lost sight of his enemy. He looked back to see if the man was truly gone, only to find him hot on his heels, trailing after him in a most curious manner. He had never seen anybody move like that before, and he was filled with abject terror.
“You’re the Greatest! You’ve won! I submit to you!”
Receiving no response, the Venom took off again. A moment later, he glanced back over his shoulder. To his horror, he saw that the man was stalking his every step—he just would not let him be. The Venom tried shoving him away. He tried beating him back. But his relentless foe simply would not give up.
Howling in terror, Viper Ouyang raced downhill as fast as he could, his cries echoing between the many peaks of Mount Hua: “I submit to you! Stop chasing me!”
4
Viper Ouyang’s cries and pleas were faint now, yet they still echoed up from the gorge from time to time. He must have covered several li already. His voice, like a wolf’s howl or the shriek of a ghost on the wind, sent a chill to one’s core that not even the warm sunlight could dispel.
Saddened to see their peer and a fellow martial Master laid so low, Apothecary Huang and Count Seven Hong shared a sigh.
“His end is coming…”
The Beggar’s remark caused Guo Jing to jerk his head and he began to mutter to himself: “You mean me?… Who am I?”
“You are Guo Jing!” Lotus exclaimed immediately. “Think about anything but yourself.” Given his bull-headed nature, she feared that he would refuse to let go of the question and suffer the same fate as Viper Ouyang.
Her reminder snapped Guo Jing out of his trance. “… Right! Shifu, Lord Huang, let’s make our way down.”
“Lord Huang?” Count Seven snorted. “Do you want to be cuffed on the ears again? Stupid lad!”
“Guo Jing, remember how you addressed Papa earlier…” Lotus said with a blush and a bashful smile.
“Father!” the young man blurted out, after a brief pause.
Laughing in approval, Apothecary Huang took Lotus by the hand, then offered his free arm to Guo Jing.
“Brother Seven, the martial arts do indeed present all of us with myriad paths, and none of them are finite. The Old Venom’s kung fu is truly astonishing and humbling, but, with the passing of the Double Sun Immortal Wang Chongyang, it would seem that there is no one truly worthy of the title of Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens.”
“Well, there’s one Greatest Under the Heavens I can
vouch for,” Count Seven said. “Lotus and her cooking.”
The young woman giggled into her hand. “Spare me your flattery. I’ll make some tasty dishes once we’ve made our way down.”
After they had settled into a guest house at the foot of Mount Hua, Lotus busied herself with the evening’s feast, choosing the best seasonal, local ingredients and preparing them with great care. Count Seven Hong gorged himself until his belly could hold no more. That night, Guo Jing shared a room with his shifu, but, when he opened his eyes in the morning, his bed was empty. There were three characters traced in grease on the table:
Fare thee well
Whether they were written with a chicken drumstick or a pig’s trotter, it was impossible to tell.
Downhearted, Guo Jing went to see Apothecary Huang and Lotus to inform them of Count Seven’s departure.
“This has always been Brother Seven’s way,” Huang said. “One may only catch a glimpse of the divine dragon’s head or its tail—never its full glory.” He turned to Guo Jing. “Would you like to come with me to Peach Blossom Island? I am hoping you will invite your first shifu, Ke Zhen’e, to officiate the marriage ceremony. I understand Master Ke is now the person closest to you, after your mother’s passing.”
Overwhelmed by opposing feelings of grief and joy, Guo Jing had trouble putting his thoughts into words, so he settled for bobbing his head in enthusiastic agreement.
Lotus loved teasing Guo Jing when he was dumbstruck, but, this time, she glanced at her father and swallowed her jibe.
The Heretic had little patience for silly banter and he did not like making small talk. After traveling with the young couple for a few days, he decided to make his own way.
“Papa is so understanding,” Lotus said with a laugh. “He knows we can’t be free and at ease in his company, and neither can he with us!” She proceeded to list the sights she wanted to see along the way—the majestic mountains and the grand lakes and rivers. She suggested a route from west to east, starting from the regions of East Jingzhaofu and Nanjing and taking in the cities of Luoyang and Kaifeng; after that, they would head south and roam around the areas of Huainan, Jiangnan and finally West Zhe, before heading to the coast for passage to Peach Blossom Island.
