by Jin Yong
Laughing at the absurdity of Viper Ouyang’s accusation, Count Seven Hong unplugged his gourd and took a long gulp of wine. Whether the Venom was distorting facts or Gallant Ouyang had lied to him, it was not worth a response.
But Guo Jing could not let such unfounded nonsense go unchallenged. “Count Seven saved your nephew!”
“Who has given you permission to speak, boy?” Apothecary Huang barked.
“Tell everyone how he . . . abducted Miss Cheng.” Guo Jing turned to Lotus for help.
Lotus knew her father had always disregarded moral codes to stay true to his nature. He would probably side with Gallant Ouyang, just to show his disdain for Guo Jing. He would most likely consider that awful man romantic rather than lecherous.
Noticing the sneer on her father’s lips, she decided to change the subject completely.
She turned to Gallant Ouyang once more. “I haven’t finished! When we fought at the Prince of Zhao’s residence, you claimed you could defeat me without using your hands or any kung fu moves, did you not?”
Gallant Ouyang nodded.
“When we duelled again in Baoying, you said this one technique from your uncle could defeat me. It mattered not whether I fought back with Papa’s kung fu or my shifu Count Seven’s. Did you not?”
You set that rule, not me! Gallant Ouyang wanted to argue back.
But Lotus gave him no chance to retort. “You drew a circle on the ground with your foot and said that if I pushed you out with Papa’s kung fu, then I would win. Did you not?”
Gallant Ouyang nodded.
“Pa, see, he holds you and Count Seven in contempt. He says so himself, the combination of your kung fu is still inferior to that of his uncle. He thinks the two of you together can’t beat the Venom.”
“What would you know, little girl?” Apothecary Huang was beginning to find Gallant Ouyang irritating. “It is known throughout the martial world that the Heretic, the Venom, the King and the Beggar are equals in martial learning.”
He turned away from Gallant Ouyang and changed the subject. “Brother Seven, might I ask to what I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
3
“THERE IS SOMETHING I WOULD LIKE TO ASK OF YOU,” COUNT Seven Hong answered.
“We’ve been friends for decades. If dear Brother Seven has a request, how could I refuse?”
It pleased Apothecary Huang that such a martial great should turn to him for help. He knew that the Beggar never asked anything of outsiders, always handling everything personally or with the assistance of the Beggar Clan.
“Don’t be so hasty. I fear it is rather a delicate matter.”
“I doubt you would come all the way if it was a mere trifle.”
“You know me well!” Count Seven clapped his hands together and laughed. “So you will agree?”
“I give you my word! Into fire or over water, I shall go along with you.”
Apothecary Huang was happy to give his consent, certain that a man as honourable and just as Count Seven Hong would not compromise him by asking for anything untoward.
Viper Ouyang raised his staff. “Brother Apothecary, there is no need for such haste. We should perhaps ask Brother Seven to explain his business first.”
“Old Venom, it has got nothing to do with you.” Count Seven chuckled. “Just get ready to toast the bride and groom.”
“A wedding?”
“Yes, indeed.” Count Seven gestured at Guo Jing and Lotus. “I have promised my disciples to seek Brother Apothecary’s consent for their betrothal, and he has just agreed to it.”
Guo Jing and Lotus looked at each other with joy and surprise, but shock and dismay marred the faces of the Ouyangs.
“Brother Seven, I fear you are mistaken. Brother Apothecary has given his daughter’s hand to my nephew. We are here today to perform the engagement ritual and deliver betrothal gifts.”
“Is that true, Brother Apothecary?” Count Seven asked.
“Yes, Brother Viper speaks the truth. I hope Brother Seven isn’t playing a prank at my expense,” Apothecary Huang replied.
“Who has time for pranks?” Count Seven’s face darkened. “So your daughter is engaged to two men, both with your consent. I am the matchmaker for the Guo family. Where is your matchmaker?”
Viper Ouyang was floored by the question. Eventually, he said, “Why do we need a matchmaker when Brother Apothecary and I have both agreed to the match?”
“But there is still one person who hasn’t given his consent,” Count Seven said.
“Who?”
“Your humble beggar!” Count Seven laughed.
Viper Ouyang understood that Count Seven had just issued a challenge. He kept his face expressionless and made no reply.
“Your nephew’s character is wanting. How could he be good enough for this blossom-like maiden?” Count Seven continued. “You two can force them to marry, but you can’t make them like each other. They will be waving swords and thrusting spears, day in, day out. What would be the point of such a union?”
Of course, Apothecary Huang wanted Lotus to be happily married. He turned to his beloved daughter and caught her looking tenderly at Guo Jing. A swell of repugnance surged through him, chasing away the doubt that Count Seven Hong’s words had stirred.
This boy was beyond hateful.
Apothecary Huang took great pride in his mental acumen and his mastery of every literary and martial pursuit. Literature, military strategy, music, chess, calligraphy, painting – he was an expert in all these fields. All his associates were cultured, refined individuals, worthy of his intellect. Lotus was exceptionally clever, just like her mother. He refused to plant a sprig of blossoms in a pile of cow dung; he would not give his only daughter to this blockhead, this cretin, this dolt. No, no, no!
He looked at the other young man. Handsome, dashing, elegant, learned. In every aspect, a hundred times better.
His mind was made up. His resolve firmer than ever.
Lotus will marry Gallant Ouyang, but I won’t spit in Count Seven’s face and refuse outright.
An idea came to Apothecary Huang.
“Brother Viper, why don’t you look to your nephew first? We shall discuss this at length afterwards,” he said.
Gallant Ouyang’s injury had been weighing on Viper Ouyang’s mind. Without another word, he gestured at the young man and the two of them disappeared into the bamboo forest.
Apothecary Huang and Count Seven Hong remained by the pavilion and exchanged further pleasantries, studiously avoiding the subject at hand.
When the Ouyangs returned, Gallant Ouyang’s rib had been reset and the needles removed from his chest.
Apothecary Huang then announced, “I am deeply honoured that both Brother Seven and Brother Viper hold me in such high esteem, coming all the way here to seek the hand of my wayward, headstrong daughter. She was already promised to Gallant Ouyang, but it would be churlish of me to refuse Brother Seven’s request. I have an idea that perhaps may help us find a happy solution.”
“Spit it out; this beggar hasn’t got the patience for your flowery words.”
Apothecary Huang smiled. “My daughter has neither looks nor ability, but I have always hoped that she would settle down with a good man. Now, Master Ouyang is Brother Viper’s nephew and Master Guo is Brother Seven’s disciple, so both have benefitted from an impeccable upbringing. It is impossible for me to choose one over the other. I have no choice but to set up three trials to test our young masters. The more learned and talented young man will win my daughter’s hand. I promise I shall show no bias and I invite my two friends to help me decide the winner of each trial.”
“Excellent!” Viper Ouyang applauded. “However, if we were to do martial trials, we would have to wait until my nephew recovers.”
Gallant Ouyang’s injury was the perfect excuse to avoid any combat – the Venom knew his nephew would not stand a chance against Guo Jing.
“Indeed, we most certainly would not want to sow discord by pr
oposing a physical fight.” Apothecary Huang shared the Venom’s concerns.
You’ve clearly chosen your son-in-law, you old Heretic, Count Seven Hong grumbled silently to himself. We’re all wulin men, yet you won’t have martial trials! Why don’t you marry your precious daughter to the Top Scholar? If you test this idiot disciple of mine on his knowledge of poetry and literature, he is sure to lose, in this lifetime and the next. You say you’re not biased, but I know what you’re really thinking. You want Guo Jing to fail. Well, well, I’ll have to challenge the Venom to a fight myself.
“All of us standing here today are martial men. Are you saying we should compete on eating and shitting instead of kung fu? The one thing we are all trained in?” Count Seven Hong cackled. He glared at Viper Ouyang. “Your nephew may be injured, but you’re not. We’ll fight on their behalf.”
Count Seven Hong launched his palm at Viper Ouyang’s shoulder.
Lowering his shoulder and rolling back his arm, the Venom stepped back several paces.
“Fight back!” Count Seven set his cane down on a bamboo side table and launched seven moves at an incredible speed.
Viper Ouyang swerved left and right, evading them with ease. Then, in the short time it took to plant his staff between the tiles of the floor of the pavilion, his left hand had thrown seven strikes.
Apothecary Huang made no move to restrain his guests – rather, he cheered at the display. He wanted to see how much these two Masters had improved since they last crossed paths atop Mount Hua, more than two decades ago. Each had been honing their skills for the next encounter, pushing their already formidable knowledge to ever greater heights.
Count Seven Hong and Viper Ouyang tossed out rapid-fire moves, but pulled back just before hitting the target. They had to gauge how the other’s kung fu had changed first.
Fists and palms darted and danced among bamboo leaves, each movement intricate and complex.
Guo Jing was mesmerised by the innovative and the unexpected in each move. He could not have imagined such kung fu, even in his wildest dreams. Soon, he began to notice similarities between the action and the text Zhou Botong had taught him. He tried to compare the two. Though the swift attacks barely left a shadow on Guo Jing’s mind, it was more illustrative than the musical contest of internal kung fu earlier.
In no time at all, more than three hundred moves had been exchanged. The two Masters were impressed by each other’s improvement.
Apothecary Huang, meanwhile, was a little dispirited. He had fondly imagined, after Double Sun Wang Chongyang’s death, that he would become the world’s greatest martial artist. Seeing how the Beggar and the Venom had developed in the intervening years, he realised with frustration and grudging respect that the three of them remained on an equal plane.
Gallant Ouyang and Lotus Huang were simply rooting for the fight to go their way, too invested in its outcome to recognise the virtuosity on display. Then Lotus noticed Guo Jing kicking his legs and waving his arms, with a strange glint in his eyes. She called to him, quietly. But he was so engrossed in the fight, he heard nothing. Concerned, she watched him and smiled at his attempt to emulate the moves of Count Seven and Viper Ouyang.
Lotus turned to her father. Like Guo Jing, he too was entranced by the duel. An odd expression graced his face and he appeared entirely disconnected from his surroundings. She glanced across at Gallant Ouyang, who was trying to make eyes at her, waving his fan languidly under the delusion that he cut a dashing figure.
By now, the tempo of the fight had slowed. Moves were launched intermittently, each strike prefaced by a lengthy pause. Once the opponent had evaded an attack, both would sit down to rest and regroup before returning to their feet to deliver another sally. The pace of the duel was reduced to that of a training session in which a disciple is grappling with new kung fu. However, from the concentration on their faces, this sluggish phase of the fight was more consuming and intense than the brisk exchange that had preceded it.
Spellbound, Guo Jing cheered whenever a great move was made.
“Stop that racket!” Gallant Ouyang snapped. “How could an oaf like you appreciate such complex martial arts?”
“Speak for yourself!” Lotus retorted. “Just because you don’t know what’s going on, it doesn’t mean he can’t understand.”
“He’s obviously trying to appear clever. He’s far too green to recognise the intricacy of my uncle’s kung fu.”
“How do you know what he can or can’t understand?”
Their bickering continued, but neither Apothecary Huang nor Guo Jing heard a word of it.
Now, both Count Seven Hong and Viper Ouyang had taken to squatting on their haunches. One flicked himself between the eyebrows with the middle finger of his left hand. The other held his head in his hands, shielding his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. Both of them were thinking hard.
Suddenly, a howl. They leapt up at the same time. A punch or a kick. Then they settled back into their crouching positions, flicking themselves between the eyebrows or holding their head in their hands.
The two Masters had such a thorough knowledge of each other’s kung fu, they could deflect even the deadliest move with ease. There would be no winner until one of them could invent a new and unexpected move on the spot.
In the two decades since the Contest of Mount Hua, Count Seven Hong and Viper Ouyang had not kept in touch. The distance between the Central Plains and the Western Regions also meant they were each cut off from news of the other. They would not have known how each other’s kung fu might have developed.
Now, in spite of the improvements each had made, they were still equals, each with their own strengths and shortcomings. Neither could prevail.
The moon had grown pale and the blushing sun began to steal in from the east. The two Masters were physically and mentally exhausted. They had invented countless new moves and variations in the past hours, yet they were still stuck in the same rut.
Fascination and confusion tugged Guo Jing’s mind in different directions. Some of the kung fu echoed the new theory from Zhou Botong. So he tried to emulate it, but, before he could grasp it, a new and innovative move would chase what little he had committed to his memory clean out of his head.
Lotus Huang could not make head nor tail of the fight, but it was obvious Guo Jing was relishing every move. Had he received divine instruction in the weeks they were apart? she wondered. Perhaps he missed me so much that he’s no longer right in the head? I know that’s how I’m feeling, right now. I shouldn’t have run so fast when we got to the island. I was so desperate to see Papa. When I turned to look for him, he’d disappeared. I’m sure he’s been just as worried as I have.
Lotus reached out to take Guo Jing’s hand, just as he was copying one of Viper Ouyang’s palm strikes. He spun as he pushed his palm out. His movement looked harmless enough, but the moment they touched, she felt a great force pulsing through her, so strong that it sent her flying into the air.
Oh no! Guo Jing noticed her presence too late and leapt over to catch her.
But Lotus managed to twist from her waist while she was airborne, and landed softly on the pavilion roof.
Guo Jing jumped with a tap of his foot and grabbed a corner of the flying eave. Then he swung himself up in a somersault.
Sitting shoulder to shoulder, the young couple watched the fight together.
The mood had shifted once more. Though Viper Ouyang was still squatting, his arms were now folded and he held them raised at his shoulders, like a giant frog about to leap. He bellowed and grunted fitfully, like a bull.
“What do you think he is doing?” Lotus asked, and smiled.
“I have no idea.” Then he remembered Zhou Botong’s description of Wang Chongyang’s death. “It must be his most powerful kung fu, the Exploding Toad.”
“He does indeed look like a mangy toad!”
Viper Ouyang’s peculiar technique drew on the toad’s sudden burst of energy as it emerged from winter hibernation
. Over the years, he had practised different ways to store strength within his body, which could be unleashed in one wave, upon attack. He also took inspiration from the moon toad myth, cultivating the kung fu at night while facing the dark spots of the moon, where the lunar spirit was believed to dwell.
Gallant Ouyang was consumed by jealousy yet again at the familiar way Guo Jing chatted with Lotus Huang. He was desperate to fight the boy, but his chest was still hurting. He also knew he could no longer beat Guo Jing, even when fully recovered.
Just then, he heard the words “mangy toad”.
How dare they call me that!
In a fit of rage, he took three silver Swallow Shuttles and tiptoed to the back of the pavilion. Tightening his jaw, he flicked his wrist and sent the secret weapons hurtling into Guo Jing’s back.
Count Seven Hong was now circling Viper Ouyang, striking at the hunched figure from different directions with the Dragon-Subduing Palm. The two martial greats were competing with their most famed kung fu, drawing on their potent internal strength, acquired over decades of practice. They were now gambling everything they had – including their lives – to win.
Watching as his shifu improvised complex variations of the simple actions from the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, Guo Jing realised he had barely scratched the surface of the repertoire. He was intoxicated by the superb display, blind to the danger that was flying at him from behind.
The fight had now reached a decisive moment. But Lotus did not have the martial insight to read the situation. As she was chattering away, she noticed suddenly that Gallant Ouyang had disappeared. Then she heard a faint swishing noise from behind.
She glanced at Guo Jing and threw herself sideways onto his back.
Pop, pop, pop! All three darts bounced off her Hedgehog Chainmail. He was so focused on the fight, he did not notice what had happened.
Aching a little where she was hit, Lotus reached behind and scooped up the Swallow Shuttles.
