A Bond Undone

by Jin Yong

  “The lad deserves to die for the loathsome things he’s done, but his uncle and I go back a long way. The Venom would be offended if I let you injure his nephew.” Count Seven then put his hand on Lotus’s shoulder. “But you preserved your shifu’s face today and that should be rewarded. Is there anything you would like?”

  “Not your bamboo stick, that’s for sure!” Lotus stuck out her tongue.

  “I couldn’t give you that, even if you asked for it. There are some moves I’d like to teach you, but I’ve been feeling rather lazy of late.”

  “I’ll make a few nice dishes to get you going!”

  Count Seven’s eyebrows flew up in excitement, then he sighed. “Alas, time is not on our side.” He gestured at Vigour Li and the beggars. “I have so many Clan affairs to attend to.”

  By now, the beggars had gathered around to thank Guo Jing and Lotus for their help, and congratulated them on becoming Count Seven Hong’s disciples. They were all envious of the young couple’s good fortune. Their chieftain’s refusal to train protégés was well known in the Beggar Clan – even his favourite Clan members were only granted a move or two, and only when he was in an exceptionally good mood. How had they gained such favour with the Chief?

  “We would like to organise a banquet, here, at this temple, tomorrow, to celebrate this joyous occasion,” Vigour Li proposed.

  “I fear they’ll find our vagrant ways too disgusting and be put off their food!” Count Seven teased.

  “It would be our pleasure to feast with you.” Guo Jing accepted the invitation readily. “I would love to get to know Brother Li better. You are a true hero.”

  Vigour Li was touched by Guo Jing’s modesty and warmth. This young man is the reason why I still have my eyes. He was full of gratitude.

  “Hey, don’t talk my disciple into becoming a beggar!” Count Seven wagged a finger at Vigour Li, then turned to Lotus. “Why did you say you’re my last disciple? Are you saying I can’t take on another?”

  “Shifu must disregard my ramblings if he wishes to share his knowledge with others.” Lotus smiled. “Though, as the saying goes, ‘When a thing is rare, it is precious’ – if there are too many of us, then we won’t be special.”

  “You think you’re so special?” Count Seven snorted. “See Miss Cheng home safely. We beggars will steal a few chickens for tomorrow.”

  Once the beggars were on their way, Lotus led Miss Cheng out of the temple, with Guo Jing trailing behind.

  “Your martial uncle, Elder Ma, taught Guo Jing. Elder Qiu and Elder Wang like him a lot too.” Lotus tried to make the young woman feel more at ease. “You are of the same martial family.”

  Miss Cheng stole a glance at Guo Jing and her face immediately turned crimson, but she managed to murmur a “Brother Guo” in greeting. She gradually opened up to Lotus as they walked. Though still speaking in hesitant whispers, she told Lotus that her given name was Emerald, and explained how she had come to receive martial training from the Sage of Tranquillity, Sun Bu’er. However, bound as she was by the traditional etiquette that came hand in hand with a privileged and sheltered upbringing, her words were directed at Lotus alone and her eyes were firmly fixed on her feet. She dared not speak a word to Guo Jing. Whenever she lifted her eyes and caught sight of him, her cheeks flushed bright red once more. Emerald Cheng’s manner was in every respect the opposite of Lotus’s forthright confidence and ease.

  Chapter Seven

  The Nine Yin Manual

  1

  IT WAS PAST MIDNIGHT. AFTER A NIGHT OF ADVENTURE, GUO Jing and Lotus Huang were ready to head back to the inn – until the pounding of hooves piqued their interest.

  Who was hurrying north, this late at night? Silence reigned again. Why had the rider stopped? They picked up their pace and were surprised to find Yang Kang standing by the road, reins in hand, speaking to Gallant Ouyang. There was a furtive look about him.

  They were too far away to hear much of the men’s exchange, but they did not want to move closer lest they be discovered.

  From Gallant Ouyang’s hushed whispers, Lotus could only make out the words “Yue Fei” – the patriotic Song general – and “Lin’an” – the Song Empire capital. Meanwhile, Yang Kang kept muttering about “my papa”. A short time later, Gallant Ouyang put his palm over his fist, in a gesture of farewell, and went east with his entourage of women.

  She had heard too little to make head or tail of their conversation, but it was enough to gnaw away at the little faith she had in Yang Kang. She watched him closely. He seemed dazed. He stared into space for a good while before mounting his horse with a sigh.

  “Brother!” Guo Jing called.

  Visibly surprised, Yang Kang leapt down from his mount. “I thought you would be halfway to Zhongdu by now, brother?”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been delayed. I found Lotus here and we’ve just fought with Gallant Ouyang.”

  Yang Kang hoped his burning cheeks were cloaked by the night. Did they hear what I said to him? He scrutinised Guo Jing for clues and, to his relief, found nothing to suggest they had.

  He wouldn’t be this friendly if he knew what we were talking about, and he’s too simple to hide it from his face, thought Yang Kang. “Brother,” he said in his sweetest voice, “shall we find a place to rest for the night, or press on?”

  Once they crossed the River Chu and then the River Huai, north of Baoying, they would be in Jin territory – the only home he had known.

  Yang Kang then turned to Lotus with a smile. “Are you coming with us, Miss Huang?”

  “No, I’m not coming with you. You are coming with us,” Lotus corrected him.

  “What’s the difference?” Guo Jing laughed. “Why don’t we stop at the ancestral temple tonight and set off after the banquet tomorrow?”

  “Pretend we saw nothing. Don’t ask him about Gallant Ouyang,” Lotus reminded Guo Jing quietly.

  They walked back to the ancestral temple together in silence. When they arrived, they lit the candles left behind by Gallant Ouyang and prepared a place to sleep. It was the height of summer, so the boys took down the doors of the main hall and set them up as makeshift beds in the cloister, in the courtyard. Lotus, meanwhile, stayed inside the main hall and gathered from the floor the needles she had flung in the fight.

  They fell asleep as soon as they lay down, but, before long, the dull thud of hooves invaded their dreams. The noise grew louder and closer.

  Eventually, Lotus could take it no more and rushed out into the courtyard.

  “Three riders being pursued by . . . maybe a dozen?” Lotus Huang guessed.

  “Sixteen.” Guo Jing grew up on horseback in Mongolia and could tell the size of a herd by ear. “The first three are Mongolian horses. What are they doing so far from home?”

  Lotus took Guo Jing’s hand, eager to see what was going on.

  Just as they stepped through the temple’s main gate – whoosh! – an arrow zoomed past, inches above their heads.

  The three Mongolian horses were charging straight at the temple.

  Another arrow. It hit the rearmost horse in the thigh.

  The steed buckled, whinnying in pain. The rider leapt off in one smooth motion, with the agility of a martial man, but his feet landed with a thump.

  Not trained in lightness kung fu, then. The same thought flashed through the minds of both Lotus and Guo Jing.

  “Keep going! I’ll hold them back,” the man shouted in Mongolian.

  His companions halted their horses and one of them said, “I’ll help you. Fourth Prince, you should go!”

  “I won’t leave without you both!”

  Guo Jing could not believe his ears. Tolui, Jebe and Boroqul! What are they doing here? But there was no time to make himself known. The men hunting the Mongolians had arranged themselves in a semi-circular formation and were closing in.

  The Mongols quickly let loose a series of arrows. These shafts tore the air with exceptional power, forcing their pursuers to check their advan
ce and fire back from a distance.

  “Up there!” One of the Mongols pointed at the ceremonial flagpole just outside the temple. They scaled it with ease and prepared to defend themselves from the podium at the summit. The high vantage point helped to even the odds against them.

  The pursuing soldiers dismounted and surrounded the pole, but they kept out of range of the Mongols’ arrows. Once they were in position, an order was shouted. Four men stepped forward and raised their shields high. They crept under cover, close to the ground, and, once in position, began to hack at the flagpole with their sabres.

  “You’re wrong.” Lotus turned to Guo Jing. “There are only fifteen of them.”

  “The last one was shot.”

  A horse trotted close to the temple entrance, dragging a man along beside it. The soldier’s left foot was stuck in the stirrup and an arrow protruded from his chest.

  Guo Jing crawled to the body. He pulled out the arrow and felt along the shaft. As expected, he found an iron ring branded with the image of a leopard’s head. This was the stiff arrow that Jebe preferred, heavier than a standard one by two jin.

  “Brother Tolui, General Jebe and General Boroqul? It is I, Guo Jing,” Guo Jing called in Mongolian.

  “What brings you here?” The men replied in unison, surprised by the chance encounter.

  “Who are they?”

  “Jin soldiers!” Tolui replied.

  Guo Jing picked up the corpse and hurled it at the bottom of the flagpole as he strode forward. Two of the soldiers were knocked out instantly and the remaining two scuttled back to take shelter among their comrades.

  The air stirred and Guo Jing looked up. Two spots of white swirled in the night sky. The white condors he had raised with Khojin in Mongolia!

  Catching sight of their master in the dark, the pair of condors swooped down next to Guo Jing, croaking with excitement.

  Lotus Huang remembered Guo Jing telling her about these condors when they first met. He had tried to defend them against attack, and adopted the condors’ orphaned chicks. These must be the orphans. She had hoped, one day, she might get a pair of condors for herself. Now she had a chance to meet these fabled creatures, the fight no longer held any interest.

  “Can I play with them?” She reached out to pat the bird closest to her. It pecked at her defensively. If her reactions had been a fraction slower, she would have had a nasty wound on her hand.

  “Oh, you naughty beast!” Giggling, she watched them with her head tilted. She decided she liked these magnificent predators very much.

  “Lotus, watch out!”

  She could hear two arrows flying straight at her, but she paid no heed to Guo Jing’s warning. No weapon could pierce her Hedgehog Chainmail. The arrows simply bounced off her chest. Right now, she had a more important task at hand. The dead soldier must have some food stashed away in his pockets. At last, she found what she was looking for, and threw morsels of dried meat to the condors.

  “Lotus, stay with the condors. I’ll take care of the Jin soldiers.”

  Guo Jing darted forward and caught, barehanded, an arrow aimed straight for him. Then he thrust his palm into the shoulder of the soldier next to him.

  Crack! The bone snapped on contact.

  “Who are you, dog?” The question boomed out of the night, in Chinese.

  I know that voice . . . Yet, before Guo Jing could place who it belonged to, he felt the air parting and the chill of a blade.

  An axe – no, two axes – hacking down towards his chest and abdomen.

  He knew such savage blows could not have come from a common soldier.

  Stooping low to avoid them, Guo Jing swung his arm back in a Dragon Whips Tail. He could feel a shoulder blade fracturing into several pieces under his palm as a howl of pain tore at his ears.

  Now he remembered: the Reaper Axe, Qian Qingjian, one of the Four Daemons of the Yellow River.

  Guo Jing’s counter sent Qian Qingjian flying back several paces. The man slammed to the ground, where he stayed, unable to stand up. Though Guo Jing was aware of the improvement in his martial skills since he fought the Daemons in Mongolia, back in the winter, he was astonished by his own prowess. He was not allowed the time to reflect, however, as he felt a metallic chill in the air once more. Then a sabre sliced down at his left side and a spear thrust at his right.

  Flipping his right hand palm down and curling his fingers into a hook, Guo Jing latched on to the spearhead, inches from his ribs, and tugged.

  The Dispatcher, Wu Qinglie, lost his footing and tumbled forward.

  Guo Jing then leaned backwards, out of the sabre’s reach. As Wu Qinglie tried to regain his footing, his head strayed right into the path of his martial brother Shen Qinggang’s falling Spirit Cleaver.

  Guo Jing kicked at Shen Qinggang’s sword-wielding wrist. A glimmer of light arced up into the air – Shen’s sabre. He then pushed Wu Qinglie in the back. Pang! The two Daemons smacked into each other and collapsed in an unconscious heap.

  In a couple of moves, Guo Jing had subdued three of the Daemons. The fourth, Soul Snatcher Whip, Ma Qingxiong, had lost his life not long ago, on Lake Tai, defeated by Laurel Lu and his pirates.

  Now, only ordinary Jin soldiers remained. Oblivious that their best fighters were already out of action, they were still firing arrows at the Mongolians.

  “Are you still fighting?” Guo Jing cried as he lunged. Fists and feet flying, he hurled aside every soldier that crossed his path.

  In the blink of an eye, the soldiers had scattered to the four winds.

  Shen Qinggang and Wu Qinglie were coming to, stars flashing in their eyes. The two Daemons cared not who had defeated them. Their heads were splitting with pain and all they wanted was to get as far away as possible. They ran in opposite directions, while Qian Qingjian fled in a third, whimpering as he massaged his shoulder.

  Jebe and Boroqul, both exceptional marksmen, shot three of the retreating soldiers. Tolui watched as Guo Jing broke up the rest of the pursuing force, in awe of his sworn brother’s martial skills.

  “Anda, my brother, how have you been?” he asked as he slid down the flagpole. The two young men regarded each other with joy, their hands grasped tight. The unexpected reunion had rendered them speechless.

  “If it weren’t for you, we would have never tasted the sweet water of Onon River again,” Jebe said to Guo Jing, after his descent.

  “This is Lotus.” Guo Jing took Lotus’s hand and introduced her to the Mongols.

  “Would you grant me the condors, Prince?” Lotus asked sweetly. Tolui understood no Chinese, but he was very taken by Lotus’s sonorous voice.

  “What brings you, anda? Why are the condors here?”

  “Papa sent me to the Song Emperor to propose a joint military action against the Jin. We strike from the north and the Song attack from the south. Sister made me take the condors along, in case we met. And she was right! Here you are!”

  Guo Jing was struck dumb by the mention of Khojin. He had barely given his betrothal to the Mongolian Princess a second thought since he had met and fallen in love with Lotus. He did not feel right about the arrangement, but he did not know what to do, especially since he had never desired the honour conferred by the Great Khan. He had just pushed the whole affair out of his mind.

  Now Tolui had reminded him of her, he was at a loss how to respond. Then he remembered he had promised to go to Peach Blossom Island: I’m sure I will pay for Hurricane Chen’s death with my life. None of this will matter then.

  He turned to Lotus. “The condors are mine. Now they are yours.” Happy to get her way, Lotus turned her attention back to the birds, throwing more dried meat at them.

  Tolui told Guo Jing more about why he was so far south. In the past months, Genghis Khan had had great success in his campaign against the Jurchens, but the Jin Empire was vast and their reserves of soldiers ran deep. The Jin had managed to hold on to several strongholds that halted the Mongolian’s advance, even though they had lost mos
t of the battles. That was why his father the Great Khan sent him to the Song Empire for help to break this impasse. But the Jin army ambushed them before they could cross into Song territory. Only the three of them, out of the large entourage of guards and followers, escaped the slaughter.

  Everything began to fall into place for Guo Jing. That was why Yang Kang had wanted Mercy Mu to go to Lin’an to see the Song Chancellor, when he was held at Roaming Cloud Manor. The Jin had received intelligence of Tolui’s mission and sent Yang Kang to forestall the alliance.

  “The Jurchens were determined to get rid of me to prevent our alliance with the Song,” Tolui continued. “Their Sixth Prince personally led the attack.”

  “Wanyan Honglie?” Guo Jing asked.

  “Yes, he wore a golden helmet. I saw him clearly. I fired three arrows at him, but his guards blocked them with their shields.”

  Guo Jing turned to Lotus. “Wanyan Honglie is here!”

  “Let’s get him!” Lotus turned, expecting to find Yang Kang nearby, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “I’ll look on the east side; you search to the west.” Guo Jing then raced off with his lightness qinggong.

  Several li from the temple, he caught up with a couple of Jin soldiers fleeing from the fight. They confirmed that the Sixth Prince Wanyan Honglie led the mission, but insisted that they had no idea of his whereabouts.

  “We deserted the Prince,” one of them began. “Our heads will roll for it. Our only option now is to hide in the countryside and pretend to be ordinary Han Chinese.”

  The sky was growing light. Wanyan Honglie must still be in the vicinity, but Guo Jing could find no trace of his father’s murderer. He started to run, fuelled by frustration. Then he saw a shadow moving through the woods and raced ahead. It was Lotus. One look at her face and he knew she had had no luck either. They headed back to the temple, dejected.

  “Wanyan Honglie left his main force to pursue us with his fastest horses,” Tolui said when Guo Jing and Lotus were back at the temple. “He must have turned back for reinforcements. Anda, I have further orders from Father; I must not tarry. Forgive me for this hasty departure. Khojin bade me to say this to you – come back soon.”