by Jin Yong
“Brother Yang, you mustn’t make up lies,” Lotus said. “Why would the villain lock Sister Mu’s acupressure points and keep her in the coffin, if she liked him?”
“I don’t care whether she really likes him or just pretends to. She’s been with that man for days. She is no longer pure. What is there left for me?” Yang Kang’s shame at having his true allegiance revealed had turned into blind rage at Mercy.
“I . . . I . . . am no longer pure? What do you mean?”
“You’ve been in his power for days. He must have held you in his arms and who knows what else! Can you deny it?”
Mercy had suffered enough already. A rush of pure anger flooded her heart. A heart-wrenching wail escaped her body. She spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed.
Yang Kang regretted his harsh words. He wanted nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings and comfort Mercy. But, as he reached out, he remembered the conversation Mercy had overheard – she knew his secret – and Lotus’s obvious doubts about him. If Mercy let on what she knew, not only would she endanger his own life, she would also thwart his father’s escape, jeopardising his grand plans.
Steeling his heart, Yang Kang ran out of the room and across the courtyard, vaulted the wall and disappeared.
3
LOTUS CAUGHT MERCY AS SHE FELL AND TRIED TO REVIVE HER by rubbing her chest, over the heart. Gradually, Mercy came to. She collected herself and looked around, as if nothing had happened. Her eyes were now dry.
“Sister, may I borrow the dagger I gave you?”
“Guo Jing, can you come here?” He ran over at Lotus’s call. “Give Brother Yang’s dagger to Sister Mu.”
He pulled out the dagger Zhu Cong had retrieved from Cyclone Mei at Roaming Cloud Manor. The name Yang Kang was carved into the hilt.
“I have Guo Jing’s dagger here with me.” Lotus reached for the short sword she kept inside her shirt. “And Brother Yang’s blade is yours now.”
She felt more secure about her future, as well as Mercy’s, now they each held the tokens Skyfury Guo and Ironheart Yang had exchanged when they made the pact to join their yet-to-be-born children in brotherhood or matrimony. “Sister, your union is predestined. Don’t worry about the fight just now. Don’t let it hurt you. Papa and I argue all the time! Why don’t you come with us to the Jin capital? We’re going to find Wanyan Honglie, and I’m sure Yang Kang will come along too.”
“Where’s Brother Yang?” Guo Jing asked.
Lotus stuck her tongue out. “He upset Sister Mu and received a slap. Then he ran away. Sister, you know he loves you dearly. Why else would he stand there and let you strike him? He’s the stronger martial artist, as we all know from the Duel . . .”
Lotus was going to make a joke about how they had met in the Duel for a Maiden and were used to getting physical. But one look at Mercy made her check her tongue.
“I’m not going to Zhongdu and there’s no reason for you to go there either. You won’t find the villain there for the next six months at least. He knows you’re coming after him and he’s afraid. Brother Guo, sister – you two are perfect for each other and fortune smiles on you . . .” Mercy was overcome by sobs. She buried her face in her hands and ran outside. Then, with a tap of her foot, she leapt onto the roof.
Lotus looked down at the splatter of blood Mercy had spat onto the floor, and then turned to run after her friend. She spotted her in the distance, under a large willow tree. There was a flash of light – the sun dancing on metal!
“No!” But she was too far away to do anything.
Mercy Mu raised the dagger Lotus had given her high over her head and pulled back her hair. Then she swung the blade down.
“Sister!”
Paying no attention to Lotus, Mercy let her hair fall to the ground and walked away without looking back.
As Lotus watched the strands of black silk dance in the air, a strange new sensation rose inside her.
Her eyes followed the threads of Mercy’s hair as they flew over fields and streams, settled on roads, grazed treetops, fell amid dust and earth, and drifted on the water.
A spoilt child who had grown up without companions, Lotus never felt the need to hide her emotions. She had always laughed when she was happy, cried when she was upset. But this scene has caused a kind of grief, anxiety, loss – something she had never felt before – to well up in her heart. For the first time, she tasted the bitterness of life. Pondering this new feeling, she walked back to the temple.
She told Guo Jing what she had seen, and the young man could not understand Mercy’s reaction either. “Why would Sister Mu do such a thing? She’s too hot tempered.”
Of course, neither knew the true reason behind the quarrel.
Troubled by Mercy’s actions, Lotus’s thoughts turned to Yang Kang’s parting words, and questions swirled in her mind.
Can a woman lose her chastity because a man embraces her? Is that why her sweetheart, who once loved and respected her, now looks down on her? Is that why he doesn’t want to have anything more to do with her?
Lotus wandered through the temple’s rear garden and sat down against a pillar, haunted by these ideas. She could not fathom the logic behind Yang Kang’s response, but she soon fell asleep, accepting this as the way of the world.
4
THAT EVENING, VIGOUR LI RETURNED TO THE TEMPLE TO SET up the banquet. Knowing Lotus Huang would be fastidious about cleanliness, he made sure the cups and plates and everything else were presentable enough for their guests.
Miss Cheng arrived with several dishes she had prepared personally, while her servants carried four large urns of vintage wine. She raised a toast to thank her rescuers, but did not stay for the meal. Guo Jing and Lotus drank and talked merrily with their hosts, but Count Seven Hong did not make an appearance. The beggars knew their Chief’s temperament and paid little attention, continuing their feasting and their conversations with the young couple.
After the banquet, Guo Jing and Lotus discussed what they should do next. Wanyan Honglie was in hiding and there would not be enough time to seek him out before the rendezvous on Peach Blossom Island. Guo Jing suggested they go to Jiaxing to meet with his shifus to work out a plan before crossing the sea together.
“Actually, it’s probably for the best if your shifus don’t come,” Lotus said. “I doubt any good will come of it. You won’t mind kowtowing to Papa to apologise? I’ll make it up to you. However many bows you have to make, I’ll return twice the amount.”
“You’re right. And you don’t need to bow to me. For you, I’ll do anything.”
IT WAS now the first half of the sixth lunar month. The people south of the Yangtze used to say, “On the sixth day of the sixth month, duck eggs cook under the sun.”
A firmament of fire seared the earth. The young couple travelled early in the morning and after sunset to avoid the scorching heat.
Before long, they had arrived in Jiaxing. Guo Jing left a letter for his shifus with the manager of the Garden of the Eight Drunken Immortals. He explained that he had met with Lotus Huang on his way to Yanjing and they were now heading to Peach Blossom Island together.
Since I am travelling with Apothecary Huang’s daughter, he wrote, rest assured that no harm shall come to me. Please do not concern yourselves with travelling to Peach Blossom Island on my behalf.
Though he sounded confident in the letter, he knew his prospects were grim, faced with a man as unpredictable as Apothecary Huang. He kept his concerns from Lotus, as he did not wish to worry her. He simply comforted himself that he was keeping his shifus from a dangerous encounter. He knew, if he had told them personally, they would all have insisted on coming with him.
The young couple travelled east from Jiaxing and reached the coast by Zhoushan. Lotus hired a boat for Xiazhi Island, as she knew the local people feared Peach Blossom Island as much as venomous snakes and scorpions. No amount of money could tempt any boatman to venture even within forty li of its shore.
Once the
y had come out of the bay and sailed into open waters, Lotus commanded the helmsman to steer north, revealing their true destination. Before the frightened man could refuse, Lotus jabbed her dagger into the deck with a casual flick of her hand, and then plucked it out, turning it on the helmsman. With the chill of the blade against his chest and the gleaming metal dazzling his eyes, the sailor bemoaned his misfortune and complied meekly.
Soon, they were approaching Peach Blossom Island and an overwhelming fragrance washed over Guo Jing. Lush and verdant, the island was colourful like a swatch of silk brocade – clusters of green, dashes of red, dots of yellow and streaks of white.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lotus asked.
“I’ve never seen so many flowers in my life. Nor such beautiful ones!”
“It’s already summer, the flowers now are nothing compared to the spring peach blossoms. Though Shifu won’t say Papa’s kung fu is the greatest under the heavens, I’m sure he’d admit that Papa is unrivalled when it comes to horticulture. But our shifu cares only for food and drink; he probably knows nothing about what makes a flower or a tree exceptional. He’s really awfully common.”
“You can’t speak so rudely about Shifu.”
Lotus stuck her tongue out and pulled a face. She then explained to Guo Jing the story behind the island’s name. Once upon a time, a master known as Ge Hong practised Taoism on the island, and, when he departed for the next realm, he splashed ink on the shore, leaving deep marks, shaped like peach blossoms, in the rocks. When her papa moved in, he planted peach trees to match the name.
The boatman, having long heard that the murderous Lord of the Peach Blossom Island took pleasure in disembowelling his victims, steered close to the shore without anchoring. Lotus leapt onto land, followed by Guo Jing and their Fergana horse, Ulaan.
The moment his unwelcome passengers had disembarked, the man shifted the tiller, keen to put as much distance as he could between himself and the dreaded island. Then he heard a thud as something landed on the deck.
“We’ve got to go back to the mainland. You’ll be rewarded handsomely!”
A piece of silver, worth ten taels, glimmered from the bow. He promised the generous lady he would return, as he sailed away as fast as he could.
“Papa! Papa! I’m home!” Lotus cried happily, excited to be back on the island.
She beckoned Guo Jing and zigzagged through the jungle of flowers. Guo Jing only had to blink to lose sight of her. He ran along the path, calling her name, but before long he was hopelessly lost.
There were tracks leading east, west, north, south. Which way did Lotus go?
He picked a path and soon noticed that the surroundings looked awfully familiar. He had gone round in a circle and now he was back where he had started! He remembered Lotus telling him that Peach Blossom Island’s layout was far more complex than the labyrinthine Roaming Cloud Manor. If he barged ahead blindly, he would only find himself more tangled up in the maze, and probably further and further away from Lotus. So he sat beneath a peach tree and waited.
An hour passed, then two, but there was still no sign of Lotus. Only silence to keep him company. Not a soul in sight.
Guo Jing was getting anxious. He climbed up to the top of a nearby tree to get a better view. To the south was the sea, to the west nothing but rocks, and to the east and north an ocean of flowers of every hue, as far as the eye could see. Their vibrant colours sent his head spinning.
No whitewashed walls, no black tiles, no smoke from the chimney, no dogs barking. No sound at all. It was uncanny.
The silence was beginning to unnerve him. He leapt from branch to branch, plunging deeper into the woods. What if I’ve gone so far off track that not even Lotus can find me? He decided to retrace his steps, but the harder he tried, the less familiar his surroundings became.
The light was failing, so he sat down once more, hoping Lotus would locate him before nightfall. Thankfully, the ground was covered by a soft blanket of grass. It was quite comfortable to sit on, but soon his stomach started to rumble and his mind wandered to all the delicacies Lotus had cooked for Count Seven. The hunger was becoming unbearable.
What if Lotus has been locked up by her papa? Guo Jing’s thoughts grew dark, in step with the sky. I’m going starve to death here!
And he had not avenged his father’s death yet. Nor had he repaid the kindness his shifus had shown him. What about his mother? All alone in the Mongolian desert. Who would look after her, if he died?
Despite these worries, he was soon asleep.
He was back in Zhongdu. Lotus was there too. They were on the lake, sharing a meal. She hummed a song. A xiao flute answered. Guo Jing opened his eyes with a jolt.
The moon was high. The fragrances of the island’s lush vegetation were more intense at night. Flute song drifted from afar on the breeze. He was not dreaming anymore.
Re-energised, Guo Jing decided to head towards the source of the music. Sometimes the path disappeared, but he could still hear the xiao ahead of him. He remembered treading similar meandering and interrupted paths in Roaming Cloud Manor, and he decided to ignore the landscape and layout. He followed the flute song resolutely, climbing into the treetops to push forward whenever he reached a dead end.
Soon, the music grew clearer. He sprinted after it and followed it round a bend in the path. A vista opened up suddenly. A lake of white flowers shimmered in the moonlight. Then he spotted a man-made structure peeking from behind the vegetation.
Now the music grew louder, now it softened. Sometimes it sounded ahead of Guo Jing, sometimes it whispered from behind. He listened. It was coming from the east! But, when he started to follow it, the music suddenly seemed to originate from the west. When he dashed north after it, it would suddenly call from the south. Could there be a dozen musicians signalling each other and toying with him? He grew dizzy from running in circles and decided to ignore the music for now and investigate the mound.
Here lies Madam Feng, Mistress of Peach Blossom Island. The characters were carved into a stone slab over the tomb.
Lotus’s mother, Guo Jing thought. It must have been so hard on Lotus to lose her mother so young.
He fell to his knees and bowed reverentially four times, his forehead touching the ground. It was an earnest gesture of respect borne out of his love for Lotus.
The music stopped. But the moment Guo Jing was back on his feet, it resumed. Once again, it was ahead of him.
Be it good or evil, I’ll follow it.
The flute song led Guo Jing back into the woods. The tune shifted key. It was now smiling at him, murmuring into his ears. Softly, gently, seductively. His heart fluttered, his mind swirled.
Why does this melody sound so good? he asked himself.
The tempo now quickened, urging him to dance. Somehow, the music was causing his blood to rush through his veins, his face was flushed and his ears burned. He sat down and began to regulate his breathing with the neigong formula Ma Yu had taught him, but he so wanted to jump up, wave his hands and kick his feet about to the tune. Eventually, he managed to gather his mind, uniting his thoughts and spirit. All concerns and desires were swept from his being, leaving only a bright hollowness within.
The music had lost its allure suddenly. It had become no more beguiling than lapping waves or whispering branches. The Elixir Field below his navel glowed warmly; his body was energised and relaxed at the same time. He did not even feel hungry anymore. He knew he was in a state in which nothing external could trouble his mind, and he opened his eyes slowly.
A pair of glowing green orbs stared at him from the darkness, several paces away.
Guo Jing leapt to his feet and backed away.
What kind of beast is that? he asked himself, frightened.
The eyes vanished.
Not even a creature as fast as a leopard or a raccoon could disappear in the blink of an eye like that!
Then he heard heavy breathing. It sounded human.
Silly me – the
man just closed his eyes! That’s why they disappeared! He didn’t go anywhere! Guo Jing laughed inwardly at his stupidity, but remained vigilant, as he could not tell if the stranger was friend or foe.
Now the tone of the flute fluttered, cooing into his ears, beguiling like a woman’s sigh. Now a moan, now whispering sweetly, now beckoning gently. The tune had grown more bewitching, but it had little effect on Guo Jing – he had yet to be acquainted with the music made by a man and a woman between the sheets. However, the stranger was desperately resisting the temptations of the flute, panting harder and faster.
Concerned by the man’s painful gasps, Guo Jing crept forward. The night was clear, but the lush canopy of vegetation blocked out the moon.
Only a few steps away, Guo Jing was finally able to discern the outline of the stranger’s features. His wild hair tumbled down to the ground. His unusually long eyebrows and overgrown beard obscured most of his face. Sitting cross-legged, the man held his left hand over his chest and his right hand on his back.
Guo Jing recognised the stance. He had learned it from Scarlet Sun Ma Yu atop the cliff in Mongolia. This position kept heart and spirit contained, so no sight or sound could disturb one’s internal peace – not the crashing waves, the crumbling mountain, the booming thunder or the flashing lightning.
This man knows orthodox Taoist internal kung fu. Why can’t he resist the flute song? Guo Jing could not fathom the reason for his own immunity.
The music now swelled with renewed urgency, causing the stranger to shudder and jump. He leapt up several times, rising more than a foot from the ground. Then he managed to force himself down again, with great mental effort.
Watching the stranger flit between serenity and agitation, Guo Jing grew worried. The man’s internal state was growing more precarious as moments of peace were increasingly shortlived. The flute made two coloratura twirls and the stranger sighed, “Let it be . . .” Muscles tensed, he was ready to leap to his feet.
There was no time to think. Guo Jing pressed firmly on the man’s right shoulder, pushing him down, then slapped his other hand onto the Great Hammer acupressure point at the back of the man’s neck.
