by Jin Yong
Guo Jing sighed. It was a ruse that would delight both Lotus and Brother Zhou. What a shame that one is dead and the other nowhere to be seen. I will see Lotus again one day, but I will never be able to tell Brother Zhou this story.
Early the next morning, Count Seven Hong called for Gallant Ouyang. “I, old beggar that I am, have enough unique skills in the martial arts. I don’t need the Nine Yin Manual. I have no interest in it; I wouldn’t look even if you were to wave it in front of my face. Only a man with the martial skills of a turkey would try to steal its secrets. Wang Chongyang had it in his possession before his death, as does Apothecary Huang now, but neither cared to study it. Is this not the difference between a man and a hero? Tell that dog brain of an uncle of yours that the Manual will be written out just for him. He must shut himself away and train. Then, once he’s done, he is to come and find me, Chief of the Beggars, and fight. This Manual is a fine thing, to be sure, but still I will not even glance at it. I want to know if the Manual really can help the Old Venom finally beat the Old Beggar! Or perhaps, after all that work, he will still only be my equal. He could end up taking off his breeches just to fart!”
Viper Ouyang could hear everything from where he was standing behind the door. But, rather than make him furious, Count Seven’s speech delighted him. Just as well the Old Beggar is so proud, he doesn’t mind me having the Manual, he thought. Much easier than trying to fight him, threaten him with snakes or starve him to death.
“What nonsense! My uncle’s martial skills are perfection itself. You could not hope to win one pass against him. Why would he need the Nine Yin Manual? Indeed, he told me once that the Manual’s powers must be exaggerated. Otherwise, why didn’t Wang Chongyang show the wulin what he learned from it? My uncle is motivated above all by the prospect of pointing out its errors and proving once and for all that it is nothing but a hoax. That way, we heroes of the jianghu needn’t fight over it. Now, that is a true service to the wulin, is it not?”
At this, Count Seven Hong could not help but laugh. “What self-satisfied bombast! Boy, write the Manual for them. If Old Venom can find the errors, I will kowtow before him.”
Gallant Ouyang led Guo Jing into the larger cabin and produced paper and a stick of ink, which he ground in preparation for him to begin.
Guo Jing had little formal education and his hand was shaky. He had to think hard to remember how to write certain characters, and his progress was slow. More than once, he had to ask Gallant Ouyang for help with characters he had forgotten. By noon, he had barely finished half of the first volume. Viper Ouyang was not present, but, after each page was finished, Gallant Ouyang carried it away to give to his uncle. As for the incantation at the end of the Manual, no one could fathom its meaning, but Count Seven Hong feared it to be a transcription of a western tongue. Viper Ouyang was himself from the west, so Count Seven Hong had told Guo Jing not to change a word of this part, lest the Viper should realize their secret.
Viper read the pages carefully. The ideas contained within them were like riddles, but the words themselves were simple and he could tell that their meaning was profound. Once back in the west, he was sure to be able to use his considerable intellect to unpick their meaning. It may take him decades, but he would master the Manual’s esoteric techniques eventually. He was elated. Such a foolish boy as Guo Jing, his writing so clumsy and crooked, would not have the wit to make it all up. Not only that, but his nephew had to teach Guo Jing how to form many of the characters, which he knew to pronounce but not to write. This had to be the real Nine Yin Manual. How could such a stupid boy conspire with his shifu to trick him?
Guo Jing wrote without interruption until sunset, under the constant supervision of Gallant Ouyang. As each page was finished, it was whisked away and passed to his uncle. Viper Ouyang did not dare let Guo Jing return to his cabin, lest Count Seven change his mind. He would not be satisfied with an incomplete text, so he ordered a feast to be taken to the boy so that he might continue writing.
Count Seven Hong waited nervously until the end of the eleventh watch. Guo Jing had still not emerged. Had their plan been uncovered? If the stupid boy had let it slip, the snakes would already be crawling all over the deck by now. He crept out of his cabin and was greeted by two snake herders keeping guard outside his door.
Ha! Count Seven chopped with his left. The rush of air from his hand set the rigging aflutter. The two men glanced across at where the sound was coming from, giving Count Seven just enough time to sneak past them, and he was out, stealing along the starboard side, before human or ghost could sense him.
A faint glow came through the window of the main cabin. Count Seven approached and peered in. Guo Jing was still bent over the desk, writing. Two women in white were serving him tea and grinding his ink. Gallant Ouyang stood on the other side, watching.
Count Seven felt relieved at first, until the smell of alcohol assailed his nostrils. There, on the table in front of Guo Jing, was a cup of fragrant, amber liquid. The color was so deep that it resembled that of a block of women’s rouge. So, Old Venom serves my disciple his finest liquor, all because he is able to write out the Manual for him. But me, the epicurean, whose knowledge of wine is unrivaled in these lands, I only get the cheap, watery stuff. I must taste it. Old Venom must keep it stored belowdecks. I’ll have a drink, then, when I’m finished, I’ll pee in the barrel. Let him taste a bit of the Old Beggar’s fine wine! What’s a little urine compared to our ordeal with the sharks? It won’t kill him.
The thought made him smile. If there was one thing at which he excelled, it was stealing food and drink. During one three-month period, he had lived in the rafters of the imperial kitchens in Lin’an. During this time, every dish made for the Emperor first passed his lips. The palace was tightly guarded and yet he had come and gone as he pleased. So, sneaking down under the decks of this ship? A mere trifle. He tiptoed toward the quarterdeck, looked around and then gently lifted the hatch. He slipped inside and eased the cover back into place. A couple of sniffs confirmed his suspicions: this was where the food supplies were kept.
The darkness below was absolute, but he soon managed to find what he was looking for by the power of his nose alone. Once at the food store, he lit a torch. In the corner were stacked half a dozen wooden barrels. He picked up a nearby bowl, chipped at the rim, blew out the torch and tucked the bowl into his robes. Then he approached the nearest barrel. He tried to nudge it, but it was heavy, filled to the brim. He grabbed the wooden stop, but, just as he was about to pull it out, he heard a noise. Footsteps. Two people were outside the store.
Their steps were light; it had to be Viper and his nephew. No one else on board had comparable lightness kung fu. Why were they here at so late an hour? They must be up to no good. Poisoning the food? He shrunk into the corner and curled up behind the barrels. At that moment, the door opened slowly, a light flickered and two figures slipped inside.
They walked toward the barrels and stopped. Are they about to put poison in the wine? Count Seven Hong thought.
Just then, the Venom of the West spoke: “He’s finished the Manual. A success. The cabins all have the oil, firewood, and sulfur?”
“It’s all ready. As soon as we light the fire, the boat will disappear in a ball of flames and the Old Beggar will be reduced to ashes within seconds.”
Count Seven was in shock. They are going to burn the boat?
“Let’s wait a little longer, until the Guo boy is fast asleep. You go to the small boat. Be careful; the Old Beggar mustn’t find out. I’ll start the fire here.”
“What about the concubines and the snake herders?”
“It is unavoidable that some people will have to be sacrificed if we are going to catch a master of the wulin. It’s all in the nature of the difference in their standing.”
Count Seven Hong yanked the stopper out of the barrel as they talked, and a pungent smell of oil reached his nostrils. A mixture of tung and vegetable oils. The two men removed a lump of sulf
ur from a wooden box and covered it with firewood and a large bag of sawdust and wood shavings. Before long, with oil pooling unnoticed beneath their feet, the two men made for the door.
“Uncle,” Gallant Ouyang said as they left. “Soon, that Guo boy will have made his grave at the bottom of the sea and the only person in the whole world with knowledge of the Nine Yin Manual will be you!”
“No, there will be one more person. I shall share my knowledge with you. And, of course, Apothecary Huang also has the book. We’ll have to think of a way to get rid of him, too.”
Gallant Ouyang grinned. “Let’s go and wrap the Manual in oil paper and cloth. We can also melt wax over it so that the water can’t ruin it.”
With that, the men left and closed the door behind them.
Count Seven Hong was both shocked and furious. Had he not by some strange coincidence come down here to steal some wine, he would never have uncovered the Ouyangs’ venomous scheme. Once the flames started raging, out on these open seas, how could they escape? He listened as their footsteps receded before sneaking back up to his cabin, where he found Guo Jing sound asleep. Just as he was about to wake the boy and tell him of what was happening, the quietest of sounds from outside the door alerted him: Viper Ouyang was checking to see that they were both asleep.
“Excellent wine! Bring me another ten flasks!”
Viper Ouyang froze. The Old Beggar was drinking.
“Venom!” Count Seven Hong’s voice came from inside. “I challenge you to another round. Let’s see who’s really the better fighter! Hic! Good boy. That’s it!”
Viper stood listening for a while. What nonsense … He must be talking in his sleep! The Old Beggar is about to face a grisly end, and yet still he dreams of drinking and fighting!
Count Seven Hong was himself listening intently, despite his babbling. Viper was a master of lightness kung fu, and yet still the Chief of the Beggar Clan could clearly make out that he had moved to the port side of the boat. He put his lips to Guo Jing’s ear. “Guo Jing,” he hissed, gently shaking the young boy’s shoulder.
“Mm.”
“Do as I say, and don’t ask why. We’re going out on deck. Make sure no one sees you.”
Guo Jing rolled out of bed. Count Seven gently opened the cabin door. Then he tugged at Guo Jing’s sleeve and stepped out on the starboard side. Rather than walk to the end of the boat, he felt his way over the taffrail and pulled Guo Jing with him. Guo Jing dutifully followed without saying a word. Moments later, they were hanging precariously above the roaring waves. Count Seven began to lower himself slowly, his eyes fixed on Guo Jing. His greatest fear was that the side of the boat would be wet and the boy would slip, the splash as he fell into the water thus alerting Viper Ouyang to their escape.
It was a dangerous climb. The paint finish was glossy and the boards were indeed wet, but not only that, the curve of the hull and the sway of the boat in the water all meant that such a descent required amazing skill. Luckily, Guo Jing’s training with Ma Yu at the cliff in Mongolia, as well as his more recent improvements, allowed him to make steady progress by clinging to iron rivets and small cracks that had been filled with putty. The two men climbed slowly downward until Count Seven Hong was half submerged in the water. He then moved carefully toward the stern and Guo Jing followed suit.
There, tied by a long, thick rope, was a small boat.
“Get in,” Count Seven called to Guo Jing.
The moment he let go, Count Seven was swept out into the sea. The ship was moving fast and he just managed to grab hold of the small boat in time. He flipped himself over the gunwale without making a sound, and there he waited patiently for Guo Jing to join him. “Cut the rope!”
Using his golden dagger, Guo Jing sliced the boat free from the ship, and instantly they were at the mercy of the waves. Count Seven steadied their boat with an oar and together they watched as the large ship disappeared into the darkness. Not a moment later, a flash of light appeared at the stern. It was Viper Ouyang, carrying a torch. He was shouting. The small boat was gone. He was enraged, but also afraid. Count Seven Hong released a hearty laugh from deep within his abdomen.
At that moment, out of nowhere, another skiff appeared, cresting a nearby wave. It was moving toward the Venom’s ship with surprising speed.
“What’s that—?” Count Seven cried.
Before he could finish his sentence, the two white condors swooped and circled the Venom’s mainsail. A flash of white appeared on the skiff, and suddenly it jumped onto the larger ship. A golden hair band glimmered in the faint starlight.
“Lotus!” Guo Jing gasped.
4
Lotus it was indeed. Just as she was about to leave Peach Blossom Island, she had caught sight of Ulaan galloping out of the forest. A horse is of no use at sea, she had thought, but the condors can help me find Guo Jing. She whistled and the birds appeared. There, tied to one of the bird’s feet, she found Guo Jing’s message: Help.
Condors have sharp eyes and fast wings, and before long they had again spotted Guo Jing’s ship on the vast open waters. She followed the condors, urging her crew to sail her skiff as fast as they could, until, at last, she caught up with them.
As the birds circled above, the two craft pulled up close to each other. Clutching an Emei Needle, she jumped on board, only to find Viper Ouyang jumping up and down like an ant in a hot wok.
“Where’s Guo Jing? What have you done with him?”
After lighting the fire belowdeck, he had discovered the small boat he was planning to escape on was gone. At that moment, Count Seven’s laugh rang out. He cursed himself. He was the one now suffering the consequences of his own actions. Indeed, the situation made him feel anxious in the extreme. But now Lotus was here.
“Quick, onto her boat!” he shouted.
But the crew of Lotus’s skiff were both deaf and mute. They had followed her orders out of fear, but, now that she had jumped aboard the bigger ship, they started to turn the sails to flee.
Count Seven and Guo Jing watched as the flames from the hold started to reach the deck. Unaware of the Venom’s skulduggery, Guo Jing jumped up and cried, “Fire! Fire!”
“That’s right,” Count Seven said. “It was Viper Ouyang. He set the ship alight on purpose in order to let us burn to death.”
Guo Jing looked at his Master blankly. Then, suddenly: “Lotus! We have to save her!”
“Back to the ship,” Count Seven said.
Guo Jing heaved at the oars. The large ship had also changed course in order to draw closer. A crowd of snake herders and female servants had gathered on the deck and were shouting for help.
“Lotus!” Count Seven cried, trying to make his voice travel over the din. “Over here! Swim to us!”
It was night and the waves were high, but Lotus was a strong swimmer and there was no other way.
Lotus was overjoyed to hear her shifu’s voice. Ignoring the Ouyangs, she rushed to the side of the ship, preparing to hurl herself into the water below. At that moment, she felt something holding her back. A hand around her wrist. It was Viper Ouyang.
“Let go of me!” she shouted, aiming the Emei Needle in her other hand at the Venom’s face. But he struck his fist at her, causing her to drop the needle into the roiling waves.
The mainmast and the sails were now aflame. Chaos had broken out among those on board. The ship would sink, any minute. Viper Ouyang knew he had to get onto the boat Count Seven had stolen. “Filthy beggar! I’ve got the girl!” He lifted Lotus up above his head.
The sea was a scarlet red as the blaze was reflected on its surface. Viper’s actions only infuriated Count Seven even more. “He’s using her to get on our boat. I’ll get her back.”
“I’m coming with you!” Guo Jing cried.
“No, you stay on the boat and guard it. You can’t let the Venom take it.”
“Yes, Shifu.” Guo pulled hard on the oars again, and, within a few more strokes, they had drawn up alongside the large ship, whic
h, with its sails turned to ash, was now becalmed.
Count Seven kicked the bottom of their craft and flew upward, reaching for the edge of the ship’s rail, which he used to haul his body further up, landing with a somersault on the deck.
Viper Ouyang still had Lotus in his grip. “What are you going to do now, you filthy beggar?” he sneered.
“Fight. One thousand blows.” Three rapid-fire palms followed.
Viper Ouyang quickly maneuvered Lotus into position as his shield, forcing Count Seven back. Lotus was unable to resist. The vital point on the back of her neck had been locked and she was nothing more than a floppy puppet.
“Have you no shame, Venom? Release the girl and fight me instead.”
But he was smarter than that. How could he just release her? His nephew was being pushed back by the flames, so he threw the girl to him and called out, “Get on the boat!”
Gallant caught Lotus and glanced down at Guo Jing. The boat was small—too small. If he jumped down holding the girl, it would capsize. He saw a nearby piece of rope and, with one hand, grabbed it and tied it around what remained of the mast. Then, clutching Lotus, he lowered himself down the side of the ship.
Guo Jing was of course relieved to receive Lotus, but he was so caught up by the fight now in action up on the blazing deck that he failed to notice that her pressure points had been locked. The two martial Masters were launching attacks and counterattacks while jumping around, avoiding falling wood and burning lengths of rope. Count Seven’s clothes were still wet from his earlier swim, which gave him a narrow advantage, whereas Viper’s robes and hair were already beginning to smolder.
Count Seven took his chance to push Viper back toward the cabin, where the flames were fiercest, just as his hair and clothes were beginning to catch fire in earnest. Viper wanted to jump into the sea, but Count Seven was giving him no opportunity. The slightest lapse in his efforts to hold back the attack might result in injury, if not death. His mind was racing. How could he get out of this?
