A Snake Lies Waiting

by Jin Yong

  “Understand what?”

  “Wanyan Honglie is under permanent protection. How could I find the opportunity to do it, on my own? But when you become my wife, I can pretend to take you to pay your respects to your new family. We’ll have no problem getting close to him and we can do it together. For certain, success will be ours!”

  Mercy lowered her head.

  His logic seemed to have persuaded her. A blush began to spread across her cheeks.

  Sensing that she was relenting, Yang Kang grew bold. He reached out for her hand and let his fingers glide over her skin, while his other arm snaked around her waist.

  Lotus was furious. She would not stand by and let Mercy fall for Yang Kang’s lies. She had to do something.

  4

  “Who comes hither without my summons?” A gruff voice barked before Lotus could warn Mercy. She whipped round, as did Guo Jing.

  Standing before them, illuminated by the light of the moon, was Qiu Qianren.

  Something felt different. The man had always put on an air of grandeur, and yet it could not mask the slippery look in his eyes. Now, his expression was grave.

  He swaggers even more on home ground, Lotus noted. He must have heard our arrival and staged the show with the wok.

  Lotus grinned brightly. “Uncle Qiu, we come in peace. We promised to arrive in seven days. We’re not late, are we?”

  “What nonsense is this?” His tone was tetchy, if not exactly hostile.

  “Have you forgotten?” Lotus was still in excellent humor. “I hope your stomach has recovered. If not, I suggest you consult a doctor before we begin, or else…” She trailed off and giggled.

  Qiu Qianren answered with a growl, drawing back his palms to strike.

  Lotus stood her ground. She was giddy at the prospect of her Hedgehog Chainmail doing its worst.

  “Move!” she heard Guo Jing shout.

  A gust rushed past her ear as Guo Jing launched a Dragon-Subduing Palm at Qiu Qianren.

  An overwhelming force crushed her shoulders. She knew she should move aside, but she could not, for her body had already been cast up into the air.

  She careened backward. Her breath caught. Darkness descended.

  Qiu Qianren’s brief contact with Lotus’s steel armor was enough to leave his palms bloody. Momentarily dazed by shock and anger, he was only roused by a powerful strike from his adversary.

  Their internal energies clashed in a loud pang.

  The force drove each side back three steps.

  Qiu Qianren found his footing instantly. Guo Jing swayed before regaining his.

  During their encounter on Jun Hill, Guo Jing had thought they were equals, but now he knew he was the weaker party—his feeling of strength had all been down to his new insight into channeling internal energy through the Heavenly Northern Dipper formation.

  Scooping Lotus up into his arms, Guo Jing sensed the air split behind him. He had no desire to fight—all he wanted was to remove Lotus from danger. Cradling her with one arm, he let rip a Dragon Whips Tail, without turning to face his assailant. This move from the Dragon-Subduing Palm was designed to throw off an attack, and Guo Jing’s desperation imbued it with an even greater potency.

  Once more, their inner strengths collided, and this time it was Qiu Qianren who almost lost his foothold. Feeling the tears in his palms acutely, he raised his hands in the moonlight. Bright red blood oozed from the wounds.

  At least the spikes weren’t laced with poison, Qiu Qianren thought with relief.

  Guo Jing took the chance to secure Lotus in his arms and scamper toward the middle crag. He had managed to give himself a head start of several dozen paces when the battle cry was raised.

  He looked downhill.

  A sea of torches. A throng of men clad in black.

  He had no choice but to head toward the peak.

  He ran with his swiftest lightness qinggong, hoping to find refuge. All the while, he did not feel Lotus stir even once. He put a finger under her nose.

  Nothing. He felt nothing.

  She had stopped breathing.

  “Lotus!”

  No answer.

  “Lotus!”

  Still no reply.

  Guo Jing’s pace slackened briefly, and Qiu Qianren—leading a dozen of the Iron Palm Gang’s strongest fighters—began to gain on him.

  I could probably fight my way down, Guo Jing said to himself. But it would be too great a risk with Lotus so badly injured.

  He left the trail in haste, sprinting in a straight line toward the summit. He had had plenty of practice climbing cliffs and racing up mountains in Mongolia, and in no time the gap between him and his pursuers had doubled.

  Without slowing, Guo Jing pressed his cheek to Lotus’s to gauge how she was doing. She was warm. His heart felt a little lighter.

  He called out her name again. Still, no response.

  Guo Jing was not far from the peak, now. He guessed that his enemies already had him surrounded. His only hope of getting out of this predicament was to find a place to revive Lotus first.

  He cast his eyes around and noticed a dark spot, around ten score paces uphill, to his left. It could be the mouth of a cave. He took a deep breath and scaled the short distance. It was indeed a cave, as he had hoped. The entrance was reinforced by a stone arch.

  Guo Jing carried Lotus inside and set her down tenderly. He pressed his hand on her Spirit Tower pressure point, between her shoulder blades. He channeled his inner strength and delivered it through this vital point to smooth her qi and calm her breathing.

  Members of the Iron Palm Gang were now gathered halfway up the crag, their shouts growing ever more thunderous.

  Before long, Guo Jing heard a guttural “Ahhhh!” and knew Lotus must be coming to.

  “My chest hurts,” she said weakly.

  “Don’t worry. We will rest here for a little while.”

  Relieved, Guo Jing made Lotus more comfortable on the floor and moved to the cave’s entrance, his palm held in readiness over his chest. He would fight to the death to protect Lotus.

  He peered outside.

  A ring of fire. Half a li downhill. Scores of Iron Palm Gang members, each carrying a torch.

  One man stood alone ahead of this blazing wall. Qiu Qianren.

  Their flames cast enough light for Guo Jing to make out their angry faces, distorted by their fierce battle cries. And yet, not one of them took a step toward him. It was as if their feet were nailed to the ground.

  Why weren’t they charging up to the cave? Seeing no sign of an advance, Guo Jing returned to Lotus’s side.

  Just as he stooped down to her, he heard a muffled swishing sound.

  It was coming from deeper inside the cave.

  Footsteps?

  Swinging his arm to shield his back, Guo Jing straightened up and spun around.

  The darkness of the cave stared back at him. He could not see how far it extended, nor could he make out what had caused the noise.

  “Who’s there? Come out!” he yelled.

  His own voice answered him, echoing off the rocky walls.

  Silence.

  Then someone cleared his throat and laughed.

  Qiu Qianren?

  Guo Jing struck the flint and tinder he always carried. A man was striding toward them from deep inside the cave.

  Arrowroot shirt, palm-leaf fan, grizzled hair, hoary beard … Qiu Qianren the Iron Palm Water Glider.

  I just saw him outside. How did he get in here? Guo Jing asked himself in disbelief. He felt a chill spread across his back—his shirt was soaked in cold sweat.

  “Well done, little ones, you found me,” Qiu Qianren said with a chuckle. “Such courage, such determination. Most admirable.” Suddenly, a frosty expression descended over his features. “But this is a secret hiding place of the Iron Palm Gang. No one is allowed inside. Ye who enter shall meet their death.”

  Guo Jing was still trying to comprehend Qiu Qianren’s words when he heard Lotus ask, her voic
e feeble, “Why did you enter, then?”

  “Erm … I haven’t got time for tittle-tattle. I have a matter of some import to see to.” Qiu Qianren made for the exit.

  It was not in Guo Jing’s nature to initiate an attack, but neither did he want to take risks, with Lotus so badly injured. What if the old man launched a sneak attack as he ran past?

  He thrust both palms at Qiu Qianren’s shoulders, in a move he learned from Quick Hands Zhu Cong, his second shifu.

  As predicted, the old man raised his hands to block.

  Guo Jing immediately folded his forearms and rammed his elbows into Qiu Qianren’s chest.

  This was typical of Zhu Cong’s kung fu—opening with a ruse that masked the sting to come. So subtle and hidden was the actual blow that most opponents failed to detect it.

  Guo Jing intended to wind the old man, but it occurred to him, before he dug his elbows in, that the push back contained no power, unlike the blows exchanged moments ago outside Yang Kang and Mercy Mu’s room.

  While Guo Jing was still trying to make sense of Qiu Qianren’s sudden impotence and decide how he should respond, his hands twirled, of their own accord, locking his opponent’s wrists.

  Qiu Qianren writhed and tugged. His response had no effect whatsoever, except for exposing the depth of his kung fu—or, rather, the lack of it.

  Now Guo Jing was certain he was the stronger fighter. He relaxed his fingers for a fraction of a second, then pulled.

  Qiu stumbled headlong into Guo Jing, his arms flailing helplessly.

  Guo Jing finished by tapping the Yin Capital pressure point at the base of Qiu’s sternum, and the old man collapsed in a heap on the ground.

  “My lord,” Qiu Qianren gasped, “why do you toy with me thus, when you are standing on a knife-edge?”

  The cries of rage and defiance outside had been growing louder with each passing minute.

  “See us down safely,” Guo Jing demanded.

  Qiu Qianren’s face crumpled and he shook his head. “I can’t even vouch for my own life. I can’t promise you safe passage.”

  “Order your followers to stand aside. Once we are down from this mountain, we will let you go, unharmed.”

  Qiu Qianren looked even more miserable. “Young boy, why can’t you let me be? Look outside and you will understand.”

  Though wary of some trick, Guo Jing did as he was asked. What he saw left him stunned. Before the line of torches stood a man, cattail-leaf fan in hand, shouting at him.

  Qiu Qianren.

  He turned back quickly to the man lying on the floor. The same face.

  “How…? How…? There are two of you?”

  “My silly boy, don’t you see?” Lotus was barely audible above the noise coming from outside. “There are two Qiu Qianrens. One is a master of kung fu, the other a master of falsehood. They look exactly the same. This one is the liar.”

  Guo Jing struggled to comprehend this revelation. Eventually, he asked Qiu Qianren, “Is that true?”

  “If the young lady says so,” the old man said gloomily. “He is my twin. I am the eldest, and I was the strongest, too—until my little brother’s kung fu overtook mine.”

  “Which one of you is Qiu Qianren?”

  “Does it matter? What difference does it make if Qianren is my name or his? We are very close. We have shared the same name since childhood.”

  “Tell us! Who is Qiu Qianren?” Guo Jing urged.

  “He is the impostor, of course!” Lotus cut in.

  “Then what is your name, old man?” Guo Jing pressed.

  Knowing he stood no chance against Guo Jing, Qiu had to answer. “My late father did give me another name—Qianzhang. I don’t much like the sound of it, so I have never used it.”

  “Your name is Qiu Qianzhang.” Guo Jing could not suppress a chuckle.

  “I can call myself any name I want. What’s it to you?” The old man showed not the slightest sign of awkwardness or embarrassment. “Ten feet make one zhang and seven feet make one ren. So, my name, Qianzhang, has three extra thousand feet over the name Qianren.”

  “I think Qiancun—a thousand inches—would suit you better,” Lotus teased.

  “Why do they just shout and not come up?” Guo Jing asked.

  “No one dares move without my command.”

  Guo Jing was not sure whether to believe him or not.

  “The crafty old fox won’t speak the truth unless we show him our colors.” Lotus’s voice was still muted. “Jab him at the Heaven’s Vent.”

  This pressure point, at the base of the throat, between the collarbones, was known to bring forth an unbearable itch, as if ten thousand ants were crawling under the skin.

  “Aaaahhh … aaaahhh…” Qiu Qianzhang yowled. “You evil, wicked—”

  “Tell us everything. Then we’ll free you,” Guo Jing said.

  Qiu Qianzhang took a deep breath to focus his mind, and began.

  5

  Qiu Qianzhang and Qiu Qianren were identical twins, just as Lotus had surmised. When they were children, their appearance and temperament were so similar that no one could tell them apart. When they were thirteen, Qiu Qianren had saved the life of Leader Shangguan of the Iron Palm Gang, and the older man shared all his martial knowledge with him by way of thanks.

  Qiu Qianren worked exceptionally hard, so that, by the age of twenty-four, his skills had surpassed those of his Master. One year later, Shangguan named Qiu Qianren his heir and the next Leader of the Iron Palm Gang. Shortly after that, he passed away.

  A steadfast Song patriot, it was Shangguan’s lifelong wish to help the troubled Empire recover the territory lost to the Jin. Qiu Qianren, by contrast, was only interested in using his martial knowledge to make a name for himself. Before long, he was famed across the wulin as the Iron Palm Water Glider, one of the five masters to receive an invitation to the Contest of Mount Hua.

  However, since Qiu Qianren knew he could not beat the Quanzhen Sect’s Wang Chongyang, he declined to take part, and, for the next two decades, led a hermitic existence on Iron Palm Mountain, honing his martial skills. He was determined to be crowned the Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens at the second Contest of Mount Hua.

  As the brothers worked on their martial training, the divergences in their personalities started to show. One worked incessantly, the other gave up as soon as he realized he had no natural talent for it. One lived deep in a remote mountain far away from the rest of civilization, the other scammed his way through towns and cities across the land, trading on his brother’s fearsome reputation to get by. And so, it was Qiu Qianzhang whom Guo Jing and Lotus had met at Roaming Cloud Manor, but Qiu Qianren whom they had encountered at the Beggar Clan Assembly at Jun Hill, as well as outside the stone house earlier that night. Since they looked and dressed exactly the same, Lotus had mistaken one for the other, and had paid a hefty price for her error.

  This cave had been the final resting place for generations of Iron Palm Gang leaders. It was customary for them to climb up to the second segment of the middle crag to await their fate when they realized death was nigh. Ordinary Gang members were forbidden even to come within a certain distance of it, on pain of death. If the leader passed away elsewhere, a follower would be tasked with the great honor of carrying the leader’s remains to the burial site, before slitting his own throat in the cavern as an ultimate act of devotion.

  Through sheer luck, Guo Jing had stumbled upon this sacred place and gained some respite from the pursuing force. The Iron Palm Gang shouted and cursed, but no one dared take one step onto forbidden ground. Even the leader could not enter, unless he was planning never to return. Qiu Qianren could only use his mighty kung fu to project his voice from below.

  What had brought Qiu Qianzhang to the cave, then? The dying leaders of the Iron Palm Gang were known to travel on their final journey with their favorite weapons and antiques, so that their beloved objects could keep them company in the afterlife. Over time, a sizeable hoard had been amassed.
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br />   Following the setbacks and insults he had suffered over the past few months, Qiu Qianzhang’s mind had turned to the treasures in the cave. He knew that sharp blades would not improve his kung fu, but they would give him an edge when defending himself. Since Guo Jing and Lotus’s arrival was imminent, now had seemed as good a time as any to see what he could find in the cavern. He also figured that the fear of this hallowed place would keep the Iron Palm Gang members far enough away so that no one would notice him trespassing. Yet, the very people he was hoping to arm himself against had brought the whole Gang almost to the door.

  Guo Jing was lost in his own thoughts as Qiu Qianzhang finished his tale. We’re safe here for now, he told himself. The Iron Palm Gang won’t cross into this sacred site, but we have nowhere to run, either. If we go up, we meet only clouds, and if we go down, the whole Gang will be waiting …

  “Go inside and take a look.” Lotus’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Let me check on you first.” Guo Jing found a branch and lit it. He unfastened her robes gingerly and peeled away the Hedgehog Chainmail from her shoulders.

  Two black handprints marked her otherwise unblemished skin.

  She would have died instantly if not for the armor, Guo Jing thought with a shudder. It looks as if the blow she has suffered is more serious than the one I took from Viper Ouyang. Perhaps we can use the same healing technique from the Nine Yin Manual?

  “Hey! You said you’d stop the itching!” Qiu Qianzhang called to Guo Jing.

  Guo Jing was so consumed by the sight of Lotus’s injuries, he did not hear his captive.

  “Don’t worry.” Lotus gave a wry smile. “Let him go.”

  Lotus’s voice brought Guo Jing back to the present. He released the bind on the Heaven’s Vent acupressure point, and the relief for Qiu Qianzhang was instantaneous. Guo Jing refused, however, to restore the old man’s mobility, and left him lying on his back, huffing and puffing.

  Having found a longer branch to use as a second torch, Guo Jing said, “I’ll go inside quickly. Will you be all right here, on your own?”

  “The old fossil will keep me company. Go!” Lotus tried to sound cheery, but in fact she was in great pain. Her body alternated between flushes of extreme heat and icy cold shivers.