by Jin Yong
Guo Jing rose to his feet and met the Great Khan’s gaze. He was shocked to see the change in him. The conqueror’s hair was now completely white, his face marred by deep grooves of wrinkles, his cheeks sallow and sunken. It was clear that he had little time left, and much of Guo Jing’s resentment drained away.
Genghis Khan put his free hand on Guo Jing’s shoulder and looked back and forth between him and Tolui. Then he heaved a sigh and gazed into the distance, lost in thought. The young men remained silent, not wishing to interrupt his reverie.
At length, Genghis Khan breathed a heavy sigh and began to speak. “When Jamuka and I first declared ourselves anda, how could I have known that I would have to kill him myself? In a few days’ time, I will join him, returning to the yellow earth … Who has won? Who has lost? What difference does it make, in the end?” He squeezed both young men on the shoulder. “You two must always stay on good terms. Do not turn against each other. If you don’t wish to marry Khojin, Guo Jing, you don’t have to. You are Han, you will never be Mongolian. This is something I have come to understand of late. We may be of different tribes, but we must still remain on good terms—until death—like a family. When my anda Jamuka died, our feud was over for him, but not for me—whenever I think of our broken pledge of brotherhood, I am kept awake all night.”
Tolui and Guo Jing thought of their recent confrontation before the walls of Qingzhou. Neither was proud of that encounter.
Genghis Khan had not been standing long, but he already felt drained of all strength. As he was preparing to go inside, they caught sight of a knot of riders heading for the golden ger. The man leading the group wore a white robe fastened with a gold belt, in the style of the Jin Empire’s court dress. The sight of a rival emissary energized the aged Khan somewhat.
The man dismounted, hurried toward the golden ger and prostrated himself some distance away, clearly afraid to come any closer. “The ambassador of the Jin Empire begs an audience with the Great Khan.”
“The Jin refuse to yield. Why have they sent you?” Genghis Khan said haughtily.
“Our humble state has offended the celestial might of the Great Khan, and we deserve to die ten thousand deaths for this transgression. We have come to present a gift of one thousand pearls, passed down from our ancestors, in the hope that the Great Khan will show mercy. They are the most important treasures of our state, and we beg the Great Khan to accept them.”
The emissary rose to his knees. He produced a bundle from his knapsack and unwrapped it to reveal a jade plate, onto which he emptied a pouch of glittering pearls. Still kneeling, he shuffled forward and he offered them up to the conqueror with both hands.
Genghis Khan cast a glance from the corner of his eye. The pearls were perfectly round, and each was roughly the size of the tip of his little finger. To find one such specimen would be hard enough, and yet in their midst was a single mother pearl, many times larger than the rest. Together, they gave off a soft, warm glow, casting a rainbow halo over the jade plate.
Not long ago, Genghis Khan would have been pleased by such a gift, but now he just frowned.
He jerked his head toward one of his personal guards, ordering the soldier to take the plate.
The ambassador could not hide his delight. “Every man in our humble state would be forever grateful if the Great Khan were to accept our peace offering.”
“Who says I’m accepting anything? I will send an army to crush your Jin Empire this very instant. Seize him. Now!”
The guards rushed over to restrain the messenger.
“A thousand pearls cannot give me even one more day on this earth.” Sighing, Genghis Khan took the jade plate from the guard and hurled it to the ground. It shattered, sending pearls rolling in every direction.
A good portion of them were picked up by soldiers in the days to follow, but many remained hidden among the long grass. Herdsmen were said to continue to find pearls on this site for hundreds of years thereafter.
* * *
GENGHIS KHAN returned to his golden ger in low spirits. At dusk, he sent for Guo Jing and took him riding in the open country. They had been in the saddle for more than ten li when the sound of raptors cawing in the skies above reached their ears. Guo Jing’s white condors were soaring overhead.
Genghis Khan unslung his iron bow, nocked an arrow and fired.
“No!” Guo Jing cried, but it was too late. The bolt was already shooting toward the female condor. He knew she would not escape with her life—the conqueror was known for his aim and the strength of his arm. But, at the moment of impact, the bird simply veered to one side and knocked the arrow off course with her wing. Her mate screeched in fury and dived at Genghis Khan.
“Shoo!” Guo Jing lashed at the bird with his whip.
Sensing the urgency of his master’s command, the condor aborted his attack. He beat his wings, crowed with displeasure, and flew off with his female companion.
Gloom shrouded Genghis Khan. He might have retained some of his agility, but his strength had waned. He cast his bow and quiver to the ground. “Never have I failed to bring down a condor. My time must be up.”
Guo Jing wanted to say something to console him, but no words came to mind. The Great Khan spurred away, heading north. Fearing for the aged warrior’s well-being, Guo Jing urged Ulaan to follow him. They caught up with Genghis Khan in the blink of an eye, as though they had been soaring on the wind.
Genghis Khan slowed his mount to a trot, halted and looked around him. “This vast Empire I have built is unrivaled throughout history. From the heart of our kingdom, you can ride in any direction—east, south, west, north—and it will take a whole year to reach the border, even with the fastest horses. Tell me, of all the heroes past and present, who has come close to what I’ve achieved?”
Guo Jing considered how he should respond. “No one since time began has come close to the Great Khan’s military prowess, but your might—the might of just one man—was built upon a mountain of white bones and a sea of widows’ and orphans’ tears.”
Genghis Khan’s face darkened with rage and he raised his whip, ready to strike Guo Jing, but the young man did not flinch, staring defiantly back at him instead. The whip faltered in the air and the blow never fell.
“What do you mean?”
Guo Jing knew it was dangerous to provoke the conqueror, but he told himself he had little to lose. It’s not likely I’ll see him again after this trip. I should tell him plainly what I think.
“Great Khan, you have treated me as your kin, cared for me and given me rank and riches, and I have also honored you as family, respected you, loved you. I’d like to ask you one question: when we die and return to the earth, how much space do we take up?”
“About this much.” Genghis Khan swirled his whip around to demonstrate.
“In that case, what is the point of occupying so much land, killing so many people and sowing so much misery?” Genghis Khan had no answer for that, so Guo Jing went on. “Since times of old, heroes were looked up to while they lived and admired by those that came after them because they did good deeds for the people and fought to protect them. As I see it, having blood on one’s hands does not make one a hero.”
“Are you saying that I will be forgotten? That I have lived a life unworthy?”
“No one can deny that you have done great things. You persuaded the Mongolians to stop fighting among themselves. People of a hundred different states and tribes now live in peace under your rule, and each of them owes you a debt of gratitude. But, wherever you rode on your conquests, you left a pile of corpses as high as any mountain. Do your achievements outweigh your sins? Do they justify all the blood that has been shed? That is much harder to answer.”
Genghis Khan was a proud man, and, because of the power he wielded, it had been decades since anyone had dared to present him with the brutal truth in such a forthright manner. He found it impossible to argue with what Guo Jing was saying. He felt as though he had been galloping at speed
and had tugged at the reins to bring his mount to a sudden halt, and, as he looked back at the trail of dust in his wake, he had no idea where he had come from, where he was going or why he was even there. A choking, gurgling sound rose in his throat. Blood sprayed from his lips, staining the ground.
Guo Jing could see how hard his words had hit the dying man, and he reached out to steady him. “Great Khan, let’s turn back. You need rest. Pardon me for speaking out of turn.”
Genghis Khan gave the young man a faint smile, his complexion a waxy yellow. “No one around me is as bold as you. They dare not give me the honest truth.” His face then lit up with all the stubborn pride of a great warrior. “I have seen every land under the heavens during my lifetime and conquered more kingdoms than I can name, and yet, to you, I am no hero. Huh! That is truly the talk of a child!” And, with a crack of his whip, he galloped away.
That night, Genghis Khan breathed his last in the golden ger. As he lay dying, he was heard to murmur, “Hero … hero…”
Perhaps he was pondering Guo Jing’s words.
Once Guo Jing and Lotus had paid their respects to the Great Khan’s body, they bid Tolui farewell and returned to the Central Plains. On their way south, they came across skulls and bones scattered among the tall grass, as they passed through lands laid waste through war, and, each time, they sighed and told themselves they were lucky to have each other. But they could not help but ask when the common people would enjoy true peace and at last be free of the evils of this world.
Embers in the flames of war,
Few homes left in villages poor.
No rush to cross the river at dawn,
The flawed moon sinks into cold sand.
THE END
Further deeds of Guo Jing, Lotus Huang and other martial masters of the wulin are told in The Return of the Condor Heroes.
APPENDIX
NOTES ON THE TEXT
Page numbers denote the first time these concepts or names are mentioned in the book.
P. 7 COUNTING RODS
Counting rods are portable collections of small sticks of similar sizes that were used for calculating numbers in ancient China. They can be made of wood, bamboo, bone, ivory, jade or metal. The earliest known set was discovered in a tomb dating back to the Warring States period (fifth century B.C–221 B.C.), meaning that this calculation system has been in use for more than two thousand years. This computation tool was eventually replaced by the abacus. A variation of the rods’ arrangement, called Suzhou numerals, is still occasionally being used today to record numbers in more traditional settings and can sometimes be seen in wet markets in Hong Kong.
P. 8 THE HEAVEN UNKNOWN TECHNIQUE
In modern mathematical terms, it presents an exploration to solve multivariable equations of higher degrees. Heaven, Earth, Man and Matter in historical Chinese computational canons are the equivalent of x, y, z and w in algebra.
Li Ye (1192–1279) was one of the first mathematicians to write and publish a methodical discourse on this Chinese system of algebra for multivariable equations. The earliest known record of this technique can be dated back to the Northern Song (960–1127), and the nineteen unknowns quoted by Lotus Huang were cited by Li Ye in his writings from a now-lost treatise he had come across.
P. 9 NINE HALLS DIAGRAM / SCRIPT OF RIVER LUO
Often rendered as Lo Shu or Luo Shu in English, the Script of River Luo is a diagram passed down from ancient times to explain the changes, connections and interactions between the heavens, the earth and all that lies within, from which the Eight Trigrams were believed to be derived. In the myths, a divine turtle appeared in the Luo River when the legendary Emperor Yu the Great was fortifying its flood defenses. On its shell were markings in nine groups, each with a different number of dots. From studying their distribution and arrangement, Yu derived nine strategies for governing and managing the world. The Script of River Luo is a cornerstone of Chinese mathematics and divination, including geomancy, or feng shui. In numerical terms, it can be represented by an associative magic square of three by three, in which the sum of any line, whether vertical, horizontal or diagonal, is always fifteen. This configuration is also referred to as a Nine Halls Diagram.
P. 22 WATER, FIRE, WOOD, METAL, EARTH, RAHU AND KETU
The stars Water, Fire, etc. are the planets Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, Venus and Saturn respectively, while Rahu and Ketu are referred to as shadow planets, the former being the ascending lunar node and the latter the descending lunar node in Vedic astrology. Rather than being physical entities in space, Rahu and Ketu are the points of intersection between the paths of the sun and the moon as they move on the celestial sphere.
P. 22 THE PROBLEM OF DISTRIBUTING SILVER, ETC.
In modern mathematical terms, this question relates to the study of higher order arithmetic series—adding infinitely to a given starting quantity—which is a major field of calculus. This problem and its solution were first published in 1303, in a book called Siyuan yujian, or Jade Mirror of the Four Unknowns, by the Yuan dynasty mathematician Zhu Shijie (1249–1314), one of the most important figures in the history of mathematics.
P. 22 THE PROBLEM OF THE GHOST VALLEY SAGE
The mathematical questions and concepts mentioned in this chapter were worked on and developed by Chinese scholars roughly contemporary to the setting of the story. This example is an exploration of number theory in pure mathematics, an area in which Song dynasty mathematicians attained an in-depth knowledge, and is now commonly known as the Chinese remainder theorem.
P. 27 TIANBAO ERA / EMPEROR XUANZONG OF TANG / NOBLE CONSORT YANG / LI LINFU / YANG GUOZHONG
The Tianbao era refers to the years 741 to 756, the third and final regnal period of Emperor Xuanzong (685–762), the seventh ruler of the Tang dynasty (618–907). He was on the throne for forty-three years, from 713 to 756, and the first three decades of his reign were considered to be the dynasty’s golden age, as well as a high point in Chinese history. In his latter years in power, however, he became reliant on self-serving officials, notably Chancellor Li Linfu, allowing them to run the country while he preferred to enjoy the company of Noble Consort Yang. His affection for Yang also resulted in her relations gaining power at court.
Though his neglect of state affairs culminated in the An Lushan Rebellion (755–763), leading to his abdication and Noble Consort Yang’s death, and to seven years of domestic warfare that blighted the reigns of two further Emperors and weakened the dynasty, Xuanzong’s doomed devotion to Noble Consort Yang was immortalized in various classics of Chinese literature that have subsequently inspired many stage and screen adaptations. In the popular imagination, he is better known as Emperor Ming of Tang.
Noble Consort Yang (719–756), whose full name was Yang Yuhuan, was one of the four beauties of ancient China. Her cousin Yang Guozhong (died 756) utilized his connection to her to improve his position in court, and eventually brought down and supplanted his one-time collaborator, Chancellor Li Linfu. He was blamed, together with Noble Consort Yang, for causing the An Lushan Rebellion, which resulted in the Emperor fleeing the capital. Yang Guozhong was killed by soldiers of the Imperial Guard, while Emperor Xuanzong was forced into ordering Noble Consort Yang to be strangled.
Li Linfu (683–753), whom Yang Guozhong succeeded, was Chancellor for eighteen years, from 734 to 752. It is believed that he maintained power by flattering the Emperor and blocking potential challengers from reaching positions of influence.
P. 27 DALI KINGDOM / NANZHAO / GELUOFENG
Situated in the region of Yunnan today, the Dali Kingdom (937–1253) was an independent state that existed around the same time as the Song Empire (960–1279). Their kings declared obedience to the Song and acted as military commissioners for their more powerful neighbor.
Nanzhao was the self-governing state in the same area preceding the establishment of the Dali Kingdom, and the height of its influence came during the eight
h and ninth centuries.
Geluofeng (712–779, reigned 748–779) was the fifth king of Nanzhao. Like his forebears, he accepted the dominance of the Tang Empire, but, a few years after he ascended the throne, he gave his support to the Tubo Kingdom in their struggle against the Tang. Later, with the Tang in the grip of internal turmoil during the An Lushan Rebellion, Geluofeng enlarged the Nanzhao state, annexing parts of modern-day Sichuan and Guizhou. When the situation in the Tang Empire stabilized, however, he declared that Nanzhao would always be a friend of the Tang.
P. 27 TUBO KINGDOM
Tubo was a Tibetan kingdom that prospered during the seventh and ninth centuries, with economic and diplomatic ties to the dynasties that ruled over the territories covering both China and India today. It was often engaged in conflicts with the Tang Empire, and, by the middle of the eighth century, it was one of the largest empires in Asia, reaching beyond the Tibetan Plateau to encompass areas of modern-day Qinghai, Xinjiang, Sichuan and Yunnan.
P. 28 GOATS ON THE HILL
As touched upon throughout the story and in the notes of Volume I, A Hero Born, there is a specific genre of poetry in Chinese literature known as ci, or lyric poetry. These verses are written to fit a specific tune or melody, like song lyrics, and they follow strict rules that specify not only the length of each line and the rhyme scheme, but also the tone pitch of each character within the line. The tunes are now mostly lost, with only their titles known to us, though it is occasionally possible to reconstruct some semblance of the underlying harmony through the sonic quality of the words. “Goats on the Hill” is one such tune title, and many poets have set lyrics to variations of this melody over the centuries.
