by Jin Yong
“My apologies, I’m busy.”
The Hoary Urchin guffawed and turned to Guo Jing. “What about you, boy? Are you scared?”
Guo Jing’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest, but, as he looked upon the calm expressions of the two older men, a smile came to his lips. He took comfort from it. “I was, but I’m feeling a bit better now.”
Just then, he saw a huge fin and the tip of a tail come slicing through the water toward him. He leaned to the side and lifted his left hand high. It was bait, and the shark took it. It leaped out of the water and snapped its jaws. The dagger in Guo Jing’s right hand thrust upward and sunk into the shark’s throat. Blood gushed forth, as if from a spring, and the animal was promptly gutted.
Meanwhile, Zhou Botong and Count Seven Hong had each killed another shark. Yet, Zhou was still suffering from the injury he had sustained earlier, following Apothecary Huang’s punch, and he was now feeling a severe pain in his chest. “Old Beggar! Brother Guo!” he cried, then laughed. “I’m afraid I will not be able to continue much longer. It is I who will go first into the shark’s belly. Fie! What a shame you two would not bet. I would have won!”
Guo Jing could hear the disappointment in his voice, despite the laughter. “Fine—I’ll bet with you!”
“Marvelous! At least now death will be interesting!” Zhou Botong turned in order to avoid being pincered between two sharks, and that was when he saw it: a white sail on the horizon. A large boat emerged from the gloaming, cleaving the waves. Count Seven saw it too. The Venom of the West had come to rescue them!
Before long, the boat had drawn close and let down two sampans to collect the three men. Zhou Botong coughed a mouthful of blood and then began to laugh so hard he could barely stand. He pointed at the sharks and cursed.
Viper Ouyang and his nephew, Gallant, were standing on the prow and welcomed them as they came aboard. They had been watching the scene below, the water seething with fins, and, in their hearts, had been most unsettled.
But Zhou Botong was not one to admit defeat. “Old Venom, you came to save us; I didn’t call for help. I owe you nothing.”
“Indeed not. I saw you were on a merry shark hunt and curiosity got the better of me.”
Zhou laughed. “You interrupted our merry hunt, yes, and denied us the pleasure of exploring a shark’s belly! So, I think we’re even. Neither of us owes the other a thing.”
Gallant Ouyang and one of his snake shepherds, meanwhile, were threading chunks of beef onto hooks, and before long they had hauled up half a dozen sharks.
“Ha!” It was Count Seven’s turn to laugh. “You couldn’t eat us, so now we’ll eat you!”
“To avenge Uncle Hong’s injuries,” Gallant Ouyang said. He ordered some men to prise open the sharks’ jaws with spears, wedging open their mouths with wooden stakes. Then they threw the live sharks back into the water.
“They won’t be able to eat again!” Zhou Botong said, and laughed. “But it will take them at least ten days to die.”
What an evil trick, Guo Jing said to himself. Only Gallant Ouyang could come up with something like that. The poor sharks will starve to death. How cruel.
Zhou Botong saw the disgust on Guo Jing’s face and only laughed harder. “You don’t look kindly on such venomous malice, I fear, boy? Like uncle, like nephew!”
Viper Ouyang was not disturbed to hear himself called venomous. On the contrary—it pleased him. He smiled at Zhou Botong’s words. “Hoary Urchin, this little trick is small fry compared to those I keep up my sleeve! The three of you are quite out of breath after fighting off those little sharks. They may have been many in number, but I wouldn’t call it a feat worth talking about.” He gestured in the direction of the sea. “Were there ten times as many, I would destroy them without the slightest effort!”
“Aha!” Zhou Botong cried. “The Venom of the West certainly knows how to flatter himself! If you can demonstrate comparable prowess and kill as many sharks as we did, this Old Urchin will kowtow and call you Master three hundred times over.”
“I daren’t accept such an honor,” Viper Ouyang said. “But, if you don’t believe me, we can make a wager.”
“Marvelous! I bet the very head on my shoulders!”
Count Seven Hong, however, was suspicious. Such a feat would be impossible by conventional means, he thought. The Viper must be planning something.
“I have no need for your head,” Viper Ouyang said, with a smile. “If I win, there is something I would like you to do for me—indeed, you would have no choice. If I lose, you may decide something for me to do. How does that sound?”
“Fine—whatever you say!”
Viper Ouyang turned to Count Seven. “Brother Seven, may I ask you to stand as witness?”
Count Seven nodded. “Very well,” he said. “But what if the winner chooses something for the loser to do, and he is unable or unwilling to accept?”
“Then he must jump into the water and become shark food,” Zhou cut in.
Viper Ouyang gave a thin smile, but said nothing. He signaled to one of his servants, who brought him a small cup. He then released the two snakes from his staff and pinched one by the neck, forcing its jaw open. Venom trickled from the tips of its teeth. Viper Ouyang held the cup beneath it and, before long, it was half filled with a thick, dark liquid reminiscent of ink. Then he took the second snake and repeated the procedure until the cup was full. Thus emptied, the two snakes wrapped themselves limply around the head of the staff, exhausted.
Viper Ouyang then ordered his servants to lure another shark out of the water and place it on the deck. With his left hand, he yanked its upper jaw open and stood with his right foot just behind its central fin. Despite its great size—it was nearly twenty feet long—the shark was unable to resist. Its rows of dagger-like teeth were on full display. Viper poured the venom straight into the shark’s mouth, where the hook had ripped its flesh, then made his hand into a fist and punched the shark in the belly, sending all two hundred jin of its bulk up over the gunwale and down into the sea with a splash.
“I see!” Zhou Botong cried, and then laughed. “This is how the old monk kills bed bugs!”
“What do you mean, Brother?” Guo Jing said.
“There was once an old monk who made a living selling a special preparation to get rid of bed bugs in the old capital at Kaifeng,” Zhou began. “He claimed it was most effective, and that, if the bugs did not die instantly upon ingesting the substance, he would happily give the customer their money back tenfold. He did a roaring trade, of course. One of his customers went home and spread the mixture on his bed. Ha, ha! Well, that night, ten thousand of the little creatures came and bit him half to death. Needless to say, he rushed to the market the next morning to claim his compensation. But what did the old monk say? ‘My preparation is most effective. I dare say you did not use it right.’ ‘How am I supposed to use it, then?’ the customer asked.” At this point, Zhou paused, smiling and shaking his head.
“How was he supposed to use it?” Guo Jing asked.
With a perfectly straight face, Zhou Botong said, “The old monk told him, ‘Catch the bug, prise open its mouth and feed it just a little bit. If it doesn’t die after that, you can come back to find me.’ The customer was furious. ‘If I manage to catch a bug and force open its mouth, I can just as well pinch it to death with my fingers. What do I need your preparation for?’ ‘I never said you couldn’t choose to pinch it to death, did I?’ was the old monk’s reply.”
Guo Jing, Count Seven Hong, and both uncle and nephew Ouyang all burst into peals of laughter.
“My preparation is a little different to the old monk’s,” Viper Ouyang said, with a smile, when they had all caught their breath.
“I don’t see much of a difference,” Zhou Botong said.
Viper Ouyang pointed out to sea. “Take a closer look.”
The shark who had been fed the venom was now bobbing on the surface, its belly exposed to the sky. Half a dozen of
its kin had been feasting on its remains, and, before long, all that was left was a skeleton, which slowly sank to the seabed. The strange thing was, a few minutes later, the sharks that had eaten it were also dead. These were then consumed by yet more sharks, who in turn also died. And so, one shark killed ten more, ten became a hundred, a hundred a thousand, until, before even an hour had passed, the sea was a carpet of floating carcasses. The few living that remained were still feasting on the dead, but soon they too succumbed and all was quiet.
The blood had long since drained from the cheeks of the onlookers.
Count Seven sighed. “Old Venom, Old Venom. That was an evil trick indeed. Who would have thought that small amount of venom could turn out to be so deadly?”
Viper Ouyang looked at Zhou Botong with a most satisfied expression. Zhou, in turn, tugged on his beard anxiously.
They looked out across the water. As far as the eye could see, sharks were floating on the surface. “I feel sick. And all killed by the Venom’s venom,” Zhou Botong said. “Be careful. Or the Sea Dragon King will send his army of prawns and their crab generals to fight you.”
Viper Ouyang smiled, but said nothing.
“Brother Viper, there is one thing I don’t understand. Pray, will you explain?” Count Seven Hong asked.
“You flatter me,” Viper Ouyang replied.
“How could such a small cup of venom, no matter how deadly, kill so many sharks?”
Viper Ouyang threw his head back and laughed. “This is a very special type of venom indeed,” he began. “As soon as it enters the veins, it poisons the blood. Once this poisoned blood is consumed by another shark, its blood becomes toxic too. This is repeated and continues until none are left alive.”
“A never-ending chain of destruction,” Count Seven Hong said.
“Precisely. I am known as the Venom of the West. I shouldn’t dare to claim such a title if my knowledge of toxins was in any way lacking.”
The sea around them was eerily calm. The smaller fish had all either similarly perished or else had fled.
“Quick, let’s get under way. The air is thick with poison,” Count Seven Hong cried.
Viper Ouyang gave his signal and the ship’s three sails were set. The wind was moving in a northwesterly direction.
“Old Venom’s preparation for killing bed bugs has proved most effective,” Zhou Botong said. “What am I to do for you?”
“First, I would like to welcome the three of you into my cabin,” Viper Ouyang said. “You must change out of those wet clothes, eat and rest. As for our wager, we can discuss that later.”
But Zhou Botong was impatient by nature. “No, no, just tell me! There is no advantage to be gained by keeping it under your tongue!”
“In that case”—Viper Ouyang smiled—“come with me, brother.”
2
Count Seven and Guo Jing watched as Viper Ouyang and his nephew led Zhou Botong to a cabin at the stern of the boat, before they were taken to a different cabin to change their clothes. Four young women dressed in white attended to them.
“Poor Old Urchin—he won’t be getting this kind of treatment,” Count Seven said, laughing. He stripped naked and one of the women toweled him dry.
Guo Jing, meanwhile, could feel the blood rushing to his neck and cheeks. He did not dare disrobe.
“What are you so afraid of? They won’t eat you alive.”
Two maidens approached him, intending to remove his boots and loosen his belt. Guo Jing shrugged off his outer layer and dashed over to the bed, where he slipped under a blanket to change his undergarments. Count Seven found his modesty hilarious, and the four young women in white giggled too.
Presently, two more women entered the cabin, carrying trays laden with various dishes and rice, and wine to accompany them. “Please, gentlemen, just a little something to eat.”
“You may go,” Count Seven said, gesturing with his hand. “The sight of so many lovely ladies will ruin my appetite.”
The women smiled and obliged him, closing the door as they left. Count Seven took a glass of wine and sniffed, then did the same with the food. “Don’t touch any of it,” he whispered. “Old Venom is sly, indeed. Eat only the rice.” He reached for the gourd on his back, pulled out the cork and took two long drafts of wine. The two men then guzzled three big bowls of rice each. The poisoned food they hid away under the floorboards.
“I wonder what they want Brother Zhou to do,” Guo Jing said in a low voice.
“It can’t be good. The Old Urchin has got himself into a tight spot, this time.”
At that moment, the cabin door was pushed open and a young woman hovered in the doorway. “Master Zhou has asked for Master Guo to come to the rear cabin to speak with him.”
Guo Jing glanced at his shifu and then followed the woman. They walked along the port side of the boat, round to the stern. The maiden knocked gently on the cabin door and, after waiting a moment, pushed it open. “Master Guo is here.”
Guo Jing entered and the door was closed behind him. But the cabin was empty. How strange! Just then, a small door to his left swung open and Viper Ouyang and his nephew strode through it.
“Where’s Brother Zhou?” Guo Jing asked.
Viper Ouyang closed the door with the back of his hand, took two steps forward and seized Guo Jing by the wrist. His movements were quick and Guo Jing was taken by surprise. A sharp pain spread up through his arm and it was instantly paralyzed. Gallant Ouyang pulled his folding fan from his sleeve pocket and tapped its metal blades against one of the acupressure points on Guo Jing’s back.
What were they doing? Guo Jing was struck dumb, unable to move.
“The Old Urchin lost our wager, but when I asked him to do something for me, he refused,” Viper Ouyang started, his voice icy cold.
“Huh?” was all Guo Jing could say.
“I wanted him to write down the entire Nine Yin Manual from memory. But he refused to honor the terms of our agreement.”
Why would he give you the Manual? Guo Jing thought. “Where is Brother Zhou now?” he managed to say.
“He said himself that he would jump into the sea and be food for the sharks if he didn’t keep his word. At least, on this, he has been honorable. Ha!”
“He…? He…?” Guo Jing could barely speak. He tried to pull back his hand and run for the door, but Viper Ouyang’s grip was too firm. Gallant Ouyang, meanwhile, pressed harder on Guo Jing’s Yang Extremity point, making his whole body go numb.
Viper Ouyang pointed to some paper, ink and brushes on a table. “Now, you are the only person in the whole world who knows the full text. Write it for me.”
Guo Jing shook his head. Gallant Ouyang sneered. “The food and drink you and the Old Beggar consumed just now was poisoned. Without my uncle’s unique antidote, you will both be dead within twelve hours. Just like the sharks. Though, of course, if you comply, we can spare your lives.”
Had my shifu not been so alert, they would have killed us, Guo Jing realized, a chill running down his numbed spine. A martial master you may be, Guo Jing thought, as he looked at Viper Ouyang, but you are truly without honor.
“You have memorized the Manual, anyway; it is no loss to you to write it down. Why are you hesitating?”
“You have killed my sworn brother,” Guo Jing said, his voice hard. “My hatred for you runs as deep as the ocean. Kill me, if you so desire. But you can never force me to write down the Manual!”
“You are a brave young man, to be sure,” Viper Ouyang said. “You aren’t scared of death, apparently. But does your shifu’s life mean nothing to you?”
Just as Guo Jing was about to reply, a loud bang interrupted him, and the cabin door shattered into fragments. Viper Ouyang spun around, only to see Count Seven Hong in the doorway, carrying two wooden buckets. With a flick of his wrists, he emptied them, sending two columns of seawater straight at Viper Ouyang and his nephew. Viper leaped to the side, still clutching Guo Jing and pressing on his pressure point.
“Old Venom, I’m afraid the heavens have refused to accommodate your plans. You won’t get the better of me!”
“Brother Hong, are you testing me again? We can settle this once we reach the shore.”
“You seem very fond of my disciple,” Count Seven said, with a laugh. “You won’t let go of his hand!”
“I won my bet with the Old Urchin, didn’t I? You were witness to it. The Old Urchin refused to keep his word, did he not?”
Count Seven nodded. “That is correct. Where is he?”
“Brother Zhou is … He was forced to jump overboard!” Guo Jing cried.
Startled, Count Seven rushed out on deck, still holding Gallant Ouyang, but it was dark and all he could see were the black waves rising and falling. There was no sign of the Hoary Urchin.
Viper Ouyang followed them out, still holding Guo Jing. “Young man, your skills leave a lot to be desired,” he said, letting him go. “I was able to take your wrist without so much as the slightest sign of resistance. Study another ten years under your Master and maybe then you will be fit to wander the jianghu.”
But Guo Jing was more concerned about the safety of his sworn brother Zhou Botong than these petty gibes, so he climbed the mast and gazed out across the sea.
Count Seven carried Gallant over to his uncle. “Old Venom, you pushed the Urchin to his death. The Quanzhen Sect will come for you. You may be a renowned practitioner of the martial arts, but not even you can overcome all seven of their masters.”
At that moment, Gallant slapped away Count Seven’s hand and landed gracefully back down on the ground. Stinking beggar! he said to himself. By this time tomorrow, the poison will have taken hold and you will be kneeling in front of me, begging for me to save you.
Viper leered at Count Seven. “But then I’m afraid you won’t get away with merely observing our fight.”
