1
Surefoot Lu had, at last, recovered enough to speak. "We, as Elders, must question them further. We must ascertain whether Chief Hong is still alive."
"We have appointed our new chief—a decision not easily revoked," Elder Peng shot back. "'Never defy the chief' is a rule our Clan has followed for generations."
Surefoot Lu refused to relent, even as the pain emanating from his fractured hands locked his jaw muscles, distorting his face into a mask of agony.
The three Elders of the Washed exchanged looks of tacit agreement and moved over to stand with Yang Kang.
"We believe in Chief Yang," Elder Peng announced. "This she-demon helped our enemies to kill Chief Hong. She is using her guile to save herself. You must not fall for her deception. Brethren, take her and make her confess!"
"Who dares lay a hand on her?" Guo Jing leaped up onto the Terrace.
No one was reckless enough to challenge the young master fighter.
Meanwhile, Qiu Qianren and his followers watched at a distance, delighted to see the beggars fighting among themselves.
"Chief Hong is feasting on delicacies from the Emperor's own kitchens in the Imperial Palace, in Lin'an, at this very moment," Lotus said, loud and clear. "He wasn't ready to tear himself away from the wonderful food, and so he asked me to take his place for the time being. When he is sated, he will return."
Count Seven Hong's gourmandizing was well known, and most of the beggars found her explanation plausible. But asking a dainty teenage girl to lead the Beggar Clan? They were incredulous.
"This Jurchen by the name of Wanyan plotted with the Iron Palm Gang to ambush me so he could steal the Dog-Beating Cane and use it to fool you. Could the Beggar Clan really be so gullible as to swallow the words of an arch pretender? Is it possible that our learned Elders have failed to see through the petty scheming of a rogue and miscreant?"
Looks of doubt and suspicion were cast at the Elders.
"If Chief Hong were still alive, why would he need you to lead on his behalf? Did he give you a token to prove your claim?" Yang Kang scrambled to hold his lies together.
"This." Lotus brandished the bamboo cane. "The Dog Beater."
Yang Kang let out a belly laugh. "Everyone saw you take it from me."
"If Chief Hong passed the Dog-Beating Cane to you, surely he would have taught you Dog-Beating kung fu. And, if he did, how was I able to take the Dog Beater from you so easily?"
Yang Kang thought Lotus was belittling him and answered in his haughtiest tone: "How dare you call it that! Do not insult the Beggar Clan's most potent scepter!"
Surely their emblem did not have such a vulgar name? Yang Kang had expected to please the beggars with this admonishment, but all it did was reveal his ignorance—for the two beggars accompanying him would never have had the audacity to refer to the cane by name, in veneration of the authority it represented. He felt himself the target of mutinous glares amid a rising tide of fury, but he could not work out what he had said to earn them.
"Scepter?" Lotus flashed a smile. "If you want it, take it." She extended the cane, taunting him.
Yang Kang took a step toward the Terrace, before pausing to glance at Guo Jing.
"We'll keep you safe, Chief," Elder Peng said under his breath. "Let's take back what's yours." He hopped onto the Terrace, followed by Yang Kang and Elders Jian and Liang.
Surefoot Lu had also mounted the stage. He took his place near Lotus Huang, arms hanging limp by his sides. They don't call me Surefoot for nothing, he reminded himself.
Lotus was still holding out the cane, a picture of graciousness.
Yang Kang hesitated, fearing a trap. Then he placed his palm over his chest, in a defensive stance, before reaching for his prize.
She smiled and made a show of letting go. "Hold tight."
Seething, Yang Kang wrapped his fingers firmly around the cane's midpoint.
A hand darted forward. A foot flew up. Fingers in his eyes again.
And the stick was back in Lotus's grasp.
The three Elders of the Washed—Jian, Peng, and Liang—were standing next to Yang Kang, yet they could only watch, stupefied and shamed. Lotus gave them no time to react.
Lotus tossed the cane into the air. "It's yours, if you can keep it."
Yang Kang had twice been at the receiving end of Lotus's chicanery. As he dithered, Elder Jian flicked a wrist, unfurled his sleeve, and drew the cane to him.
Cheers broke out.
Only a supreme martial artist could manipulate soft fabric with such ease and precision, as if it were an extension of his arm.
Jian raised the cane above his head and presented it to his chief. Yang Kang took it in his right hand and let his inner strength course to his fingers.
You'll have to cut my hand off if you want the cane again, he said to Lotus in his head.
"Didn't Chief Hong teach you how to hold on to the Dog Beater when he entrusted it to you?" Lotus asked.
Chuckling, she tapped her feet and shot forward, straight at Yang Kang. She twirled to the side just before reaching Elders Jian and Liang, who had planted themselves protectively in front of their new chief.
As she glided past, between the two beggars, Jian flipped his palm to seize her with a backhanded Grapple and Lock.
But, the next thing he knew, she was standing toe-to-toe with Yang Kang. Elder Jian had never missed at such close proximity.
Agile as a swallow on the wing, Lotus had put on an outstanding display of the footwork from Wayfaring Fist, which she had learned from Count Seven Hong.
A swish of the cane brought the startled Elder Jian back to the moment.
A whirl of green was sweeping at his shin. He and Elder Liang jumped.
"I'm afraid the name of this move will cause offense," Lotus said with a giggle. "It's called Cane Strikes Two Dogs."
She was now standing at the eastern corner of the Terrace of the Yellow Emperor, her white dress fluttering in the breeze created by her nimble movement. In her hand, the glossy jade-green bamboo cane shimmered in the moonlight. She had snatched it so quickly that no one could say how she had done it.
"Isn't it obvious who Chief Hong's chosen one is?" Guo Jing demanded.
Thrice the beggars had witnessed Lotus whip the cane out of Yang Kang's hand, each time faster than the last. Whispers resounded. Doubt had taken root.
Surefoot Lu stepped forward. "Brethren, the techniques employed by the lady are indeed Chief Hong's kung fu."
Elder Jian caught the eye of his fellow leaders of the Washed in an unspoken exchange. Like Peng and Liang, he had followed Count Seven Hong long enough to confirm the girl's martial heritage. What could he say to counter Surefoot Lu's claim?
"Of course she is familiar with Chief Hong's martial repertoire," Jian said, after a moment. "She is his disciple."
"The Dog-Beating repertoire is known only to the Chief of the Beggar Clan," Surefoot Lu fired back. "I am certain Elder Jian is aware of that."
"It is apparent that the young lady has learned some very clever Bare Hands Seize Blade maneuvers. Nevertheless, can we say for certain that it is Dog-Beating kung fu?"
A kernel of doubt nagged at Surefoot Lu. "Miss, could you please demonstrate the Dog-Beating repertoire? If Chief Hong has indeed taught you the moves, our clansfolk shall, with one heart, declare you our chief."
"Elder Lu, I trust you have not forgotten that none of us has seen the kung fu in action—we know it only by name. How are we to confirm it?"
"What would you suggest, Elder Jian?"
Jian clapped for attention and addressed the crowd: "If the young lady defeats these hands with her cane, then I, of the family Jian, shall bend the knee and call her Chief. If my loyalty wavers, let ten thousand arrows pierce my body and a thousand sabers slice up my corpse."
Surefoot Lu snorted at the suggestion. "You're one of the Clan's most formidable masters. Your martial reputation has towered over the jianghu for more than twenty years. How old do you think she is? Her skill with the cane is exceptional, but is it fair to ask her to counter yours, honed through several decades of hard work?"
"Then I will put her Dog-Beating kung fu to the test!" The hot-headed Elder Liang had heard enough of these petty arguments. He lunged at Lotus with his weapon of choice—the saber.
The blade swung, the air whistled.
She smiled and tucked the cane into her belt.
Flashes of metal. Fast. Ferocious. Precise. A martial master.
Lotus leaned a mere fraction to the side. The sharp edge glided past her—three times.
She did not move her feet once.
"You think you are worthy of the Dog-Beating Cane?" She beamed at the beggar, noting how he had avoided her vital points. With the smile still hovering on her lips, she struck at him with her left hand, while her right grabbed at one end of the curved sword.
Rage flooded Elder Liang's senses. He, a famed master, well known and revered in the wulin—how could he allow a mere child to defy him so?
Hewing sideways and hacking down, he charged at Lotus with deadly intent.
"Elder Liang! No lethal blows!" Jian had come around to the fact that there was something to Lotus's claim and was feeling less animosity toward her. It was now crucial to rein in his fiery companion before he injured her.
"I don't mind." Lotus giggled once more.
Punch, kick, elbow, jab. Lotus flittered and fluttered around the older man, raining down moves from a dozen different martial repertoires upon him.
The beggars were bedazzled by her rapid-fire display.
"Lotus Palm!" a Disciple of Eight Pouches gasped.
"Oh, Bronze Hammer Fist!" another beggar exclaimed.
She launched the next before each move was named. The voices started to overlap.
"Wayfaring Fist—"
"Iron Broom Kick—"
"Conquer with Ease!"
Count Seven Hong had always dreaded the bother that came with taking on disciples and training them. So, over the years, he had only shared a crumb of his knowledge here, a morsel there, as reward for members who had performed commendable deeds on behalf of the Clan. Easily bored, he also disliked teaching the same kung fu again and again, so his favored clansmen each picked up a different skill.
Lotus, however, was the exception. Delighted by her cooking, Count Seven Hong had shared with her several dozen different moves from different martial repertories during the month they spent together in the town by the Yangtze River. Though she learned fast, she was only training for fun. Often, after a handful of repetitions, she would want to move on to something new. Count Seven also found explaining intricacies a chore, so Lotus was able to emulate the moves, but had yet to grasp their nuances.
Now, with the Clan's eyes on her, she was consciously showing off the martial knowledge bestowed by Count Seven Hong.
Liang's command of the saber was, without a doubt, masterful. In normal circumstances, Lotus would be struggling, but her infinite array of strange moves had left her opponent's head spinning. The beggar Elder decided to err on the side of caution, weaving a tight net of protective maneuvers across his torso.
Lotus let her arms fall into a resting position over her chest and grinned. "Admit it."
Liang had yet to draw on the full scope of his knowledge. How could he concede the fight so soon? He dropped his defensive stance and turned the saber's edge outward, its tip raised.
Down he hacked, twisting the blade sideways.
Lotus stood perfectly still. She made no move to tilt or lean away. She waited.
"No!" Elder Jian and Surefoot Lu cried simultaneously above the shouts and gasps from the crowd.
Liang drew his arm up as soon as he realized Lotus had no intention of evading the blow, but to pull back fully on a strike as potent as this, at such close range, was next to impossible.
The blade sliced down on the young woman's left shoulder.
Liang knew that, even though he had withdrawn his neigong energy, the sharpened steel would slice through her flesh. He had been too rash—
The lightest tap. Three inches from the wrist. His Gathering Convergence pressure point.
Numbness.
The saber clattered to the ground.
Orchid Touch.
Placing her foot on the weapon, Lotus cocked her head and grinned. "How about now?"
Elder Liang stared at her, stunned. How had she survived unscathed? The wise thing to do now was retreat. So back he hopped.
"Remember, she is Apothecary Huang's daughter." Yang Kang tried to claw back support. "She wears Hedgehog Chainmail. No weapon can cut through it!"
Elder Jian furrowed his brow at this new piece of information.
"Hmm? What do you think?" Lotus said, beaming.
Surefoot Lu shot a warning look at the young woman, hoping that she would be content with her triumph. He could tell that her inner strength was limited. Were it not for her dizzying martial repertoire, her wit and her armor, she would have come out of the fight as Liang's equal, at best. Against Jian, the most accomplished among the Elders, she would not stand a chance.
Of course, she ignored his signal and offered Jian a yet more dazzling smile.
Lu was desperate to stop this unnecessary confrontation, but he had expended all his powers trying to withstand the agony radiating from his hands. He could not summon the energy to speak. He could only stand there, drenched in the cold sweat brought on by the whole ordeal.
Slowly, Elder Jian looked up and fixed his eyes on Lotus. "Miss, I should like to exchange a few moves."
Guo Jing had been observing the older man. Composed and relaxed, he moved with a grounded poise that stemmed from a deep foundation in the art of neigong inner strength.
I can't let Lotus put herself in danger, Guo Jing thought, as he pulled from his robes the leather cord that had been used to restrain him, and strode forward.
He flicked his wrist. The makeshift whip unfurled with frightening speed, lashing at the boulder Qiu Qianren had impaled with Jian's steel staff.
Leather curled around metal.
"Up!" Guo Jing gave a sharp tug.
The staff shot from the rock like a bolt of lightning and flew straight at Jian.
The beggar Elder knew any attempt to catch it would result in shattered bones.
"Out of the way! Quick!"
As he leaped aside, barking a warning to his clansfolk, he saw Lotus reach out, tap the bamboo cane's end on the midpoint of his hurtling staff and guide it gently to the ground.
This move from the Dog-Beating repertoire was called Crush the Dog's Spine.
"Let's play!" Lotus said with a chuckle.
Jian was astounded. I will be admitting defeat the moment I begin to concede an inch, he told himself as he bent down to pick up his staff.
He bowed, holding his weapon upside down. "Please be merciful with the cane."
Elder Jian's gesture was well known throughout the wulin to signify wholehearted deference to a martial elder. It demonstrated his admission that he did not consider himself skilled enough to fight on an equal footing, and was instead seeking to learn.
"No need to stand on ceremony; I fear I am the lesser fighter, here." Lotus extended the cane and flicked Jian's metal staff the right way up with a Flip the Dog Belly Up.
It was not an overstatement to describe Elder Jian's staff, which he had wielded for decades, as an extension of his person. Yet, one light touch of the bamboo cane and its tip was now spinning toward his temple. The beggar locked his wrist to halt the momentum, narrowly avoiding making a fool of himself before the fight had even started.
Since Jian had declared himself inferior, he followed the martial custom that dictated the weaker party should initiate the first three moves.
Balancing the staff on his shoulder, Jian tipped the steel bar back before swinging it down.
Stones Flogged for the Qin Emperor, a move from the Staff of Demented Frenzy repertoire made famous by Sagacious Lu, a hero of the Marshes of Mount Liang.
Lotus knew she had to be careful. Even a glancing blow from the metal pole might result in internal injury, for all the protection afforded her by the Hedgehog Chainmail.
Answering with the Dog-Beating kung fu, she edged her way forward between flashes of steel.
Thick as a child's arm, the metal staff weighed at least thirty jin. The bamboo cane looked flimsy in comparison. Yet that apparent weakness was its greatest strength. Weighing no more than a dozen taels, it could be wielded with ease.
In no time at all, the Dog-Beating Cane had woven a net of attack so tight that the staff could find no room to strike.
At first, Elder Jian avoided direct contact with the Dog-Beating Cane, fearing he might shatter the Beggar Clan's symbol of authority. But, within a dozen or so exchanges, the little green stick was jabbing and poking at every vital point up and down his body. He pulled his weapon close, using every scrap of kung fu knowledge and combat experience he had accumulated over the decades to block the onslaught.
Guo Jing watched in awe. He had seen Lotus employ Dog-Beating kung fu several times before, but even he found it impossible to anticipate her next move. His thoughts soon strayed to the man who taught her this intricate kung fu, Count Seven Hong.
Wherever you may be, Shifu, I hope you are on the mend, he prayed silently.
Lotus shifted her grip down the cane. Pinching it in the middle with just three fingers, she twirled it playfully in a circle.
Though somewhat flummoxed by this sudden show of apparent frivolity, Elder Jian recognized that this was his chance. Hoisting his weapon, he speared it at Lotus's left shoulder.
A swivel of her wrist, and the cane took a sharp twist, its tip coming to rest one foot beneath the top of the metal pole.
Instantly, Jian felt his arm being drawn outward, his weapon straining against his palm. The light touch of the cane had turned the thrust of his attack back on him. Tightening his grasp, he struggled to regain control of his staff.
Jian's retreat only brought his opponent closer. Alarmed, he switched to a different kung fu, then another. Yet, seven or eight martial repertories later, the bamboo cane still clung as if glued to every move of the steel staff.
Dog-Beating kung fu utilized eight types of attack: Trip, Hack, Coil, Jab, Flick, Draw, Block, and Spin. As the duel continued, Lotus settled into a series of Coil moves, curling the cane around the staff like a vine winding its way up a tree. The tree trunk could grow tall or wide, but it could never untangle itself from the vine's grip.
Elder Jian made several more attempts to free himself, all to no avail. Concentrating his neigong energy in his arms, he switched to the Mighty Vajra Staff technique. The air growled with each swing of the steel staff, but the cane continued to trail every sweep and strike like a shadow. Though it appeared that Jian was pulling Lotus along, he was, in fact, being stifled by his own struggle to free himself from the influence of the bamboo stick.
Jian had unleashed half of the repertoire's moves, but it was having no effect. He was now certain of Lotus's claim.
Just as he was about to pull back and admit defeat, he heard Elder Peng's voice: "Grapple and Lock the cane."
"Go on, try it!" Lotus whipped into a succession of Spin attacks, which forced Elder Jian to follow her instead.
The Dog Beater was a whirlwind of green, spinning between the five major acupressure points along the beggar's spine: the Unyielding Space, on the back of his head; the Wind Mansion, on the nape of his neck; the Great Hammer, where the neck joined the shoulders; the Spirit Tower, between his shoulder blades; and the Suspended Pivot, at the base of his backbone.
A touch on any of these points by the cane would be lethal—or would cripple him, at the very least.
Jian understood the danger he was in, but he was so harried that he could not even lift his staff for his own protection. He pressed forward, hoping to create some space in which to turn, but the green storm had engulfed him. The cane's point would not stop flitting over his five vital points.
The beggar had only one option left. He must escape.
The instant he reeled away from one blow, the next one would fall on him. The faster he tried to evade it, the faster the cane chased him. He ended up running round and round in an ever-expanding circle.
Lotus, meanwhile, was in her element. She swapped the cane between her hands without turning her body or shifting her feet, and yet she did not for one moment let the tip stray from the vulnerable points on the beggar's back.
By now, Elders Lu, Peng, and Liang had hopped down from the Terrace to give Jian more room, but it did him no good. The beggar ran another half a dozen laps before crying, "Mercy, Miss Huang! I yield!"
"What did you call me?" Lotus asked, with another bright smile.
"I bow to the chief."
Jian wanted to put his words into action, but the Dog-Beating Cane was still dancing around his back. His robe was, by now, drenched through and beads of sweat were dripping from his beard.
At last, Lotus felt vindicated. Beaming, she pulled back with a flick of the cane, tapped it instead on the steel staff and flung it upward. Once more, she had used Jian's own power against him, sending the momentum back into his staff.
The heavy weapon flew up high into the sky.
Elder Jian bowed deeply, relieved that he had been spared. The rest of the beggars followed, bending low as they saluted their chief. They had all been convinced by Lotus's mesmerizing skills.
Jian took a step forward to spit in her face, but, casting his eyes over her jade white complexion glowing with a coral blush, and her features delicate as spring blossom, he hesitated, then swallowed the phlegm back down.
Just then, the air parted above his head.
A shadow flitted onto the Terrace and caught Jian's steel staff.
Elder Peng: the beggar who had captured Lotus and Guo Jing using the dark art of mind entrapment.
Lotus was pleased for the chance to seek redress. She pointed the cane at the Purple Palace pressure point, just above his sternum. Her plan was to intimidate him using the Spin technique, aiming for the vital points on his chest and forcing him into a clumsy retreat, making him out to be an even bigger buffoon than Jian.
But Peng stood his ground, crossed his arms, and bowed. What was the point of fighting this young woman when his kung fu was inferior to Jian's?
Lotus touched the cane on his acupressure point, but held back her inner strength. "What do you want?"
"I bow to the chief."
Lotus glared at him. The moment their eyes met, her heart fluttered. She turned away at once, but curiosity got the better of her and she stole another glance.
A radiance was emanating from his eyes. A glow that reached deep into her being. She could not look away, so instead she squeezed her eyes shut.
"Chief, you must be tired. Rest a little." His mellifluous tone was soothing.
Exhaustion washed over Lotus. She could hear a voice in her head: It's been a long night.
Her eyes sore and her throat parched, she felt drained.
"Peng, what do you think you're doing?" Elder Jian could see that Peng was trying to hypnotize her. He had honored the young woman as the Chief of the Beggar Clan; it was now his duty to protect her.
Peng smiled at Jian. "The chief needs to rest. She's worn out. You mustn't disturb her."
A small part of Lotus was aware of the peril she was in, but her body had given in to the fatigue. It wanted her to close her eyes, to sleep. It would not have cared if the skies were about to crash down upon her. Her body needed rest.
Guo Jing's words from before suddenly broke through her semiconscious state.
"Soul Switching … tell me more…" She felt as if she had been jolted from a dream.
Guo Jing had been watching Lotus closely, poised to strike a deadly blow against Elder Peng if he used that infernal skill of his again. He rushed over and whispered the description from the Nine Yin Manual into her ear.
She listened carefully. The principle of Desist and Observe.
Desist: control of the heart. She ran the lines one by one in her head. Desist: embodiment of the essence.
She closed her eyes. Drawing on her wealth of martial and literary knowledge, she inhaled. Breath and mind joined as one. With each fresh gulp of air, her body calmed.
Elder Peng watched her eyelids droop and her breathing slow. She must be asleep now, he told himself. Thrilled with his success, he readied himself for the next step of his scheme.
Just then, Lotus opened her eyes and smiled at him.
Pure joy.
The corners of his mouth turned up. He was floating.
An indescribable feeling spread through him. A lightness of being. A laugh burst forth before he could comprehend what was happening.
Lotus was impressed: The Nine Yin Manual lives up to its reputation. I've overpowered him with a mere smile.
Flushed with triumph, she grinned wider still. She was curious to see its full effects.
Elder Peng realized he was in grave danger and tried with every fiber of his being to still his heart, but it was impossible to claw back control in his panic-stricken state.
He caught a glimpse of Lotus's smirk and cradled his belly as he convulsed with another wave of laughter.
Ha ha ha … he he he … ah-ha-haa-haaa … aaah-ha-aaa-yaaa-ooo …
Chortling ever louder, his voice spread out across the lake in a cacophony of hooting and bellowing.
The beggars looked at each other. What was so funny?
"Elder Peng!" Jian tried to restore order.
Peng pointed at Jian's nose and doubled over, shaking merrily.
Jian rubbed his sleeve over his face, feeling self-conscious.
The sight made Peng guffaw even harder. He backflipped down from the Terrace and rolled on the ground in hysterics.
The beggars sensed something was wrong. Two of Peng's most trusted followers rushed over to help him back onto his feet. Shrieking with laughter, the beggar Elder pushed them away.
Before long, gasps could be heard amid the cackling. Peng's face was turning purple as he sank deeper into this uncontrollable fit.
In normal circumstances, Soul Switching only resulted in drowsiness, but Lotus had used it against Peng just as he was trying to entrap her, when he was at his most vulnerable.
"Chief, allow me to speak." Elder Jian bowed and stayed bent over as he spoke, to show his submission. He feared Peng would soon be suffocated by his uproarious state. "Elder Peng has been insolent and deserves to be punished. And yet, we beg the chief to be magnanimous."
As Surefoot Lu and Elder Liang chimed in with their entreaties, Peng was still squeaking and squawking in the background.
Lotus turned to Guo Jing. "Enough?"
He nodded.
"I will let him go, on one condition. No one is to spit on me."
"The chief's word is our command," Jian said immediately. Time was now of the essence if Peng's life was to be saved.
"Go on, jab his pressure point." Lotus chuckled, happy to be spared the disgusting ritual of being anointed as Beggar Chief with the Clan's saliva.
Jian jumped down and struck two of Peng's acupressure points. The laughter ceased immediately. Peng's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he gulped great mouthfuls of air. He was thoroughly defeated.
"Well, I do rather need a rest now," Lotus mused. "Hey, where's Yang Kang?"
"Gone," Guo Jing answered.
"What?" She jumped up in frustration. "How? Where?"
"There." He pointed toward the lake. "With Qiu Qianren."
Lotus gazed into the distance and saw a set of sails resting close to the horizon. They had too much of a head start. Although annoyed, she understood why Guo Jing had not stopped Yang Kang—he still honored the friendship between their fathers and their own sworn brotherhood.
IN FACT, Guo Jing had only noticed Yang Kang was gone when it was too late.
Like everyone else, Yang Kang had been watching the contest between Lotus and Elder Jian intently. When he saw how Jian struggled so soon, he knew he would have to get off the island if he was to have any hope of staying alive. Carefully, he edged over to the envoys of the Iron Palm Gang and asked for their help.
Qiu Qianren had also realized that the teenage girl would soon succeed in her claim as the Chief of the Beggar Clan. It would do him no good to stay, outnumbered as he was, especially as he would have to deal with her companion's redoubtable kung fu. He signaled to his entourage and slipped away before the fight was over, taking Yang Kang with him.
Some beggars did observe the Iron Palm Gang's retreat, but the Clan's commanding figures were too involved in the fight to take heed, so they let the uninvited guests slip away.
LOTUS HUANG raised the Dog-Beating Cane high. "I shall help Chief Hong look after our Clan's affairs until his return. Elder Jian, Elder Liang, lead the Disciples of Eight Pouches east to meet Chief Hong. Elder Lu, you will stay here to recuperate."
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"What should we do about him?" Lotus pointed at Elder Peng.
Jian bowed and did not straighten up until he had said his piece: "Brother Peng's transgression was grave and he must be severely punished. Nonetheless, I beg the chief to think on the deeds he has done for the Clan over the years and spare his life."
"I knew you would speak on his behalf." Lotus shot Jian a look, but there was also a hint of a smile on her face. "Fine, he has laughed enough. Let him be demoted … He shall become a Disciple of Four Pouches."
Peng and the three remaining beggar Elders thanked their chief in unison. Deflated and full of regret, Peng removed five bags from the nine he wore on his back.
Once the erstwhile Elder had trudged toward the rear, to be with the others of his rank, Lotus continued to address the Clan. "It is not often that our brethren come together; there must be many affairs to attend to. But, before we proceed, we must give Vigor Li and Prosper Yu a worthy burial.
"I can see that Elder Lu is the best among you, so you shall obey him in all matters of import for the time being." A moment later, she added, "Elder Jian and Elder Liang will provide assistance," so no one would try to undermine Surefoot Lu's authority.
"I'll bid farewell, now—we have other affairs to attend to—but I shall see you all in Lin'an before long." With those words, Lotus took Guo Jing's hand and headed down toward to the shore.
The beggars guided them to the pier and stood to attention as they watched the boat carrying their new chief vanish into the mists.
2
Guo Jing and Lotus arrived at the Yueyang tower just as dawn was breaking. Ulaan and the condors were waiting patiently for them on the shore.
Lotus gazed at the early morning sun breaking away from the ripples, its colors reflected in the lake and the sky. It was a majestic sight.
"Between the lips are mountains far, in the mouth is the Yangtze long—vast, gushing and infinite. The glow of dawn, the shade of dusk, ten thousand shifting scenes.
"Fan Zhongyan captured the view so well," she said. The description was from "Memorial to Yueyang Tower." "We have to stop and take a look. Let's climb to the top."
Together, they scaled the Tower and watched the sun rise over Dongting Lake. The events from the night were still fresh in their minds, and yet, for a while, they did not speak of them, making conversation about nothing in particular instead.
Suddenly, Lotus's face darkened. "I haven't forgiven you."
"Huh?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
Guo Jing scratched his head, unable to recall what he might have done wrong. "Please—please, tell me."
"Why were you prepared to leave me by myself when the beggars tried to push us off the cliff? Do you think I could have gone on living without you? Don't you know by now how I feel?" Tears began to fall down her cheeks.
Guo Jing took her hand and clasped it to his chest, too overwhelmed to reply. "You're right," he said eventually. "If one of us is to go, we should go together."
Lotus sighed, but her reply was cut short by the sound of footsteps. A man appeared at the top of the stairs. He was glancing left and right just as the young couple turned to see who it was. They could not believe their eyes.
Iron Palm Water Glider—Qiu Qianren.
Guo Jing hopped to his feet and stood in front of Lotus protectively, but, to their surprise, Qiu merely grinned, waved and flew back down the stairs.
"Was he scared of us?" Lotus said. "What an odd man. I will find out." And she began to run after him.
"Be careful!" Guo Jing rushed to follow, but, by the time he reached the bottom of the Tower, they were both gone.
"Lotus! Lotus! Where are you?"
What if she had fallen victim to Qiu's merciless kung fu? The possibility terrified Guo Jing.
Though Lotus could hear the panic in Guo Jing's voice, she chose to ignore him. She wanted to find out what Qiu Qianren was up to first. If she replied, the old fossil would know she was on his trail.
She tiptoed after him at a safe distance as he made his way around the outer perimeter of a large mansion, pausing as he turned a corner at its northern end. She would wait a little before catching up with him.
Qiu Qianren guessed Lotus must be following him from Guo Jing's cries. He turned the corner and stopped.
They both waited, and listened. Nothing. Then, at the same moment, they both crept up to the corner.
Lotus was confronted with a vision of wrinkled, pockmarked skin, just like that of Dongting Lake's famous mandarins.
Qiu Qianren was greeted by a face as delicate and ravishing as the blossoms on the banks of the River Xiang.
Their noses almost touched.
Panic flashed across their eyes.
Yelping, they spun round and bolted in opposite directions.
Although wary of Qiu Qianren's kung fu after his display the night before, Lotus could not let him slip away so easily. She sprinted most of the way around the mansion's outer wall, fleet of foot thanks to her lightness qinggong; she was planning to spy on him from the eastern corner.
Qiu Qianren, it turned out, had had exactly the same idea. Once more, they almost rammed into each other—this time, by the screen wall opposite the mansion's south-facing main gate.
Lotus stood facing him. She could not risk turning, because that would open her back to his attack, but if she could keep him talking until Guo Jing had found them, then she would not be in any significant danger.
She smiled sweetly. "Uncle Qiu, what a small world! We meet again."
"Indeed, and so soon after we parted ways in Lin'an! I trust the young lady has been well?" Qiu Qianren returned her pleasantries with an equally pleasant grin.
So, you're back to your old lying ways, Lotus said to herself. Don't you remember seeing me last night, at Jun Hill? Well, well, whatever you say, I'll answer with the Dog Beater.
"Guo Jing, now's your chance!" Lotus called at the top of her voice.
Qiu Qianren whipped around in alarm.
No one.
Only a gust of air against his shin.
He had been duped. He jumped.
Lotus swung the bamboo stick low, using Count Seven Hong's Trip technique.
Qiu Qianren dodged the blow, but he had no idea that the cane would whip back at him so rapidly, nor that it could create a rush of parting air that would crash against him like the waters of a mighty river.
Trip. This one word described ten thousand subtle variations. The quicker Qiu Qianren jumped out of the way, the faster Lotus flashed her cane, to the point that any observer would see nothing but a whirl of green where once a young girl and an old man had stood.
At the eighteenth sweep of the stick, Qiu Qianren was a fraction too sluggish. A whack on his left shin was followed by his right ankle being hooked out from under him.
Thump! He found himself lying flat on the ground.
"No, stop, hear me out!" he yelled.
Beaming, Lotus pulled back. He hopped to his feet, but, just before he was about to land, he was met with a flick and a strike from the Dog-Beating Cane. Once more, Qiu Qianren lost his footing, again landing on his back.
By the sixth tumble, Qiu Qianren had learned his lesson. He would stay down, with his belly pressed flat to the ground.
"Get back up."
Following her command, he leaped up and yanked at the drawstring of his trousers.
It snapped.
He grabbed his waistband.
"Shoo, or I'll let go!"
For once, Lotus was speechless. Never in her life would she have imagined a martial master and the leader of one of the jianghu's most influential gangs resorting to such a sordid ruse.
She decided she would rather not take the risk.
"Pah!" she muttered under her breath as she retreated.
Qiu Qianren roared with laughter.
Amused by the absurdity of it all, she had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that she had been outwitted.
Qiu Qianren was about to chase Lotus away, far enough that she would not turn back to pester him, when Guo Jing appeared between them.
The young man guarded his chest with one arm as he drew a languid semicircle from his hip upward with the other.
Qiu Qianren had seen enough to be sure that, if the boy's left palm joined the right, as though he was cradling an invisible orb, a force quite unlike anything he had ever known would burst forth.
He started to laugh, then gave out an almost undignified squeal.
"Ignore him," Lotus called. "Strike!"
Guo Jing was still wary of the man's Iron Palm, for its intensity and complexity was equal to that of the most prized kung fu of Zhou Botong, Apothecary Huang, or Viper Ouyang. He knew it would be a mortal mistake to underestimate his opponent at such close proximity. And yet, he gathered his qi in the Elixir Field, relaxed his body and prepared to strike.
"Little ones, Grandpa here has been overindulging and has given himself a bad stomach, yet again," Qiu Qianren said, still holding his trousers up by the waistband. "Once more, I must beg your pardon."
"Strike him," Lotus urged as she backed away.
"I know what you young 'uns are thinking. You won't let it rest until old Grandpa shows his true colors. Well, the problem is, my tummy has been having a mind of its own of late. Especially at crucial moments like these. But I have an idea. Listen carefully, now. If you want to prove your mettle, meet me at the foot of the Iron Palm Mountain in seven days."
Irritated by his patronizing tone, Lotus reached inside her clothes for her needles. She was waiting for him to lose himself in his prattling, so that she could unleash a Skyful of Petals. Would he still refer to himself as jolly old Grandpa then? But, on the other hand, what if she struck his hands by accident and made him lose his grip…? As she deliberated over what to do, she was struck by a sudden realization. Iron Palm Mountain … The secret message in the painting!
"Dragon's den or tiger's lair, we'll be there!" She paused for a moment. "How do we find you?"
"Go west from here. Through Chengde, Chenzhou, then up the Yuan River. Between Luxi and Chenxi, you'll find a mountain that looks like all five fingers of one hand are pointing up to the heavens. That is Iron Palm Mountain. The terrain is treacherous and Grandpa's kung fu most fearsome, so you have been warned. You can always apologize to me now, instead. There's no need to put yourselves in danger."
Lotus was overjoyed. His description was just like Guo Jing's painting!
"May we meet again within the week." She accepted the challenge with exaggerated politeness.
Qiu Qianren nodded, then crunched up his face as if in pain. "Aiyooooo! Aiyoooo!" And off he dashed, clinging to his waistband to preserve his modesty.
3
"Lotus, I don't understand," Guo Jing said.
"What is it?"
"Why does he pretend to know so little kung fu? He could have overpowered us easily. Remember when he struck me in the chest at Roaming Cloud Manor? If he had used the same neigong then that he did last night, I wouldn't be standing here today. Why does he put on this silly act?"
Lotus nibbled on her thumb as she pondered these questions. "I really have no idea. I tripped him over again and again with the Dog Beater, just now. He was defenseless … Maybe the move with the beggar's staff was some kind of sleight of hand?"
Guo Jing shook his head. "He crushed all the bones in Surefoot Lu's hands. He also met my attack head-on. What he did requires real learning; he couldn't have faked it."
Lotus pulled a pearl hairpin from her hair, sat on her heels and started scribbling on the ground. After a while, she sighed. "I don't know what the old fossil is playing at, but I'm sure we'll find out when we get to Iron Palm Mountain."
"But shouldn't we head back to Lin'an to look for Shifu instead? That awful old man is probably playing another trick on us. Why go to Iron Palm Mountain?"
"Remember the hidden message in the painting Papa gave you?"
Guo Jing scratched his head, trying to recall. "We don't know what it says. The rain washed away half the characters…"
"You still haven't worked it out?"
Guo Jing was stumped. "You know what I'm like. Just tell me. You obviously have worked it out."
Lotus scratched four broken lines in the dirt. "Though there is a missing character in the first line, it can only be Yue Fei's final writings. I was struggling with the second line, but it must be shan—mountain!"
"Are you saying … the first two lines … that General Yue Fei's writings are in Iron Palm Mountain?" Guo Jing clapped his hands together. "Let's go now! The Iron Palm Gang have betrayed their homeland by joining forces with the Jin. We can't let them give Yue Fei's writings to Wanyan Honglie! What about the last two lines?"
"Qiu said Iron Palm Mountain is shaped like the five fingers of a hand, so the third line probably is Beneath the middle crag."
Guo Jing applauded. "You are smart! What about the last line?"
Lotus was now speaking more to herself than to Guo Jing. "In the second … the second … What could that be?" She tilted her head and her long hair fluttered. "I can't work it out. I'll try again when we get there."
TOGETHER, THEY rode west with the condors, passing through Chengde, Taoyuan, and Yuanling. Before long, they had arrived in Luxi. Yet, when they asked the locals for directions to Iron Palm Mountain, the townsfolk simply shook their heads.
Disappointed, they decided to stay in Luxi for the night. That evening, Lotus asked an inn boy about the local sights. The young man rattled off a long list, yet there was no mention of Iron Palm Mountain.
Lotus pursed her lips. "How dull! Sounds like this little place has no areas of natural beauty."
"Luxi may be small, but the scenery around Monkey Claw Mountain is incomparable!" The man was clearly rankled.
"Monkey Claw Mountain? Where's that?" Lotus kept her tone casual. It could be just the place they had been searching for.
The man turned to the door with a terse, "Pardon me."
Grabbing the back of his shirt, Lotus pulled him back into the room. She placed a sycee ingot of silver on the table.
"Yours, if you tell me everything about Monkey Claw Mountain."
The serving man reached out. "Really? Mine?"
Lotus nodded with a smile.
"I will tell you, but don't go there. Evil men dwell up there. Death awaits any soul who strays within five li of Monkey Claw Mountain."
Lotus caught Guo Jing's eye. She could tell he had had the exact same thought: the Iron Palm Gang!
"Does this mountain have five peaks, shaped like the claws of a monkey?" Lotus blinked innocently.
"Indeed! The five summits are lined up like this." The man opened his palm, fingers pointing skywards. "The middle one is higher than the peaks either side. The most curious thing is how each crag is split into three segments—just like our fingers."
"Segment!" Lotus leaped to her feet. "In the second segment!"
"Yes!" Guo Jing cried in joy.
The man gaped at them.
Lotus asked him a series of questions about how to get there, only letting him go when she was entirely satisfied.
Cradling the silver with both hands, the man skipped out of the room, delighted with his unexpected good fortune.
"Come on!" Lotus was raring to go.
"It's only sixty li away, it won't take Ulaan long to make the journey. Why don't we make our pilgrimage in the morning?"
"Pilgrimage?" She laughed. "We're on a mission to take back Yue Fei's writings!"
"Oh." Guo Jing felt very silly. How could he have forgotten?
LOTUS AND Guo Jing slipped through the window and took Ulaan from the stables without anyone at the inn noticing. The condors flew ahead as they galloped southeast along the route described by the inn boy.
Clumps of foliage at chest height sprouted from both sides of the rugged mountain path. It would have been a difficult journey, had they been on foot, or on a lesser horse.
In no time, they had covered forty li. Looming ahead, five vertiginous tors towered above them, their tops shrouded by scattered clouds.
When they reached the foot of the mountain, they gazed up at the craggy summits that seemed to tear angrily at the moonlit sky, as if someone was thrusting their hand right up into the belly of the heavens.
"The middle peak is just like in the painting." Guo Jing was thrilled. "Look! It's even got pine trees at the very top."
Lotus chuckled. "All we're missing is a general practicing with his sword. Why don't you go up and give it a try?"
"Too bad I'm not a general."
"I'm sure Genghis Khan will…" She trailed off.
Knowing what she meant, Guo Jing looked away. He did not have the courage to look her in the eye.
AFTER SETTLING Ulaan and the condors, and checking there was no one in sight, Guo Jing and Lotus began to ascend the middle crag on foot.
Circling to the other side, they scaled the rock face with their lightness kung fu until they reached a narrow path. They followed the track for several li, winding back and forth, and eventually arrived at a dense pine forest. Before they could decide whether to explore the woods or continue upward, they saw light glimmering between the branches. Their eyes met. Without saying anything, they crept in silence toward the source.
A few steps later—whoosh!—two men, clad in black, burst from the trees, their glinting weapons pointed straight at their faces.
If we fight these men, the Iron Palm Gang will know we're here and it'll make stealing Yue Fei's final writings more difficult. Lotus weighed their options as she recalled the hand-shaped token she had taken from Qiu Qianren. Removing it from the inside pocket of her robes, she showed it to the black-clad men without saying a word.
They took one look, stepped aside and bowed.
Swift as lightning, Lotus twirled the bamboo cane and tapped their pressure points. Neither man could move. She then kicked them into the undergrowth and stole toward the light, with Guo Jing following close behind.
Candles and lamps were glowing at both ends of a stone house. They tiptoed to the western side and peeked through the window.
Vapor rose from a large wok that was sizzling over red-hot coals. A boy, dressed head to toe in black, tended the stove. His small body worked the bellows with all his might. Another boy in a similar outfit noisily scraped the contents around the bottom of the pan with a metal ladle.
A grizzled old man sat cross-legged in front of the fire, his eyes closed in concentration. He was inhaling the steam from the wok, his breathing deep and slow.
Qiu Qianren, dressed in his signature arrowroot shirt.
Before long, wisps of hot air began to rise from the crown of his head. He stretched his arms high—heat seemed to be issuing from the tips of his fingers, too.
All of a sudden, he leaped up and plunged his hands into the wok.
The sweat-soaked child at the bellows somehow found a new burst of energy and pumped faster.
Qiu Qianren stood motionless at the stove. The leader of the Iron Palm Gang was clearly not impervious to the heat—it was his will alone that kept his hands buried in the hot pan.
At length, he drew his arms back and thrust his palms out. They smacked loudly against a small sandbag suspended from a roof beam by a slender piece of string.
But the bag did not even quiver.
Guo Jing was astounded. To hit it without making it swing requires the most exquisite kung fu. This man is a true master.
Meanwhile, Lotus was certain that this was another show put on to fool any onlookers. She would have said something, had they not had more important things to do—that is, finding Yue Fei's final writings.
They watched Qiu Qianren repeat the move over and over: temper the hands, strike the bag, then back to the stove again.
Lotus was aching to discover how he made steam rise from his head and fingertips, but she could not see any device that might help to create such an illusion. She recalled how Zhu Cong had exposed his stunts at Roaming Cloud Manor.
If Zhu Cong was here, he would see through the old sham at once, she said to herself. Even I can admit that he is far more perceptive than me in these matters.
Since they could glean nothing more from Qiu Qianren's ritual, they crept over to a window on the eastern side of the house.
Lotus and Guo Jing were shocked to find Yang Kang inside, and, next to him, Mercy Mu. What had brought her here? they both wondered, as they eavesdropped on the conversation.
Yang Kang was being his most charming self, all sweet nothings and empty promises. He was trying to convince Mercy to marry him as soon as possible, but the young woman would not be swayed. She refused to consider their union until Yang Kang had killed Wanyan Honglie and avenged the death of his birth parents—her godfather and his wife.
"My dear, don't you understand?" There was a hint of accusation in Yang Kang's tone.
"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 voice 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.
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.
Guided by the flame, Guo Jing stepped cautiously into the darkness. After following the tunnel through two turns, he arrived at an enormous chamber. A natural cave, it was ten times the size of the man-made entryway.
A dozen or so skeletons were dotted around the space. Some were sitting up, others lying supine. Each had made the journey into the world beyond in a different way. Some bones were scattered, others still maintained the outline of the human form. There were even relic urns and spirit tablets to commemorate the deceased. Swords, secret weapons, and other treasures clustered around each group of remains.
These were the great heroes of yesterday, Guo Jing thought, stirred by the scene. Today, they are nothing more than piles of bones. Still, at least they have each other's company, here—much better than lying buried underground, all alone.
Weapons and antiques had never held Guo Jing's interest. Right now, with Lotus on his mind, they were nigh on invisible. But, just as he turned to leave, a wooden casket caught his eye. It was sitting on a skeleton that was leaning against one wall of the cave.
There appeared to be an inscription on the lid. He crept over to take a closer look.
The Secret to Defeating the Jin.
Guo Jing mouthed the phrase to himself. Could this be General Yue Fei's last writings?
Timidly, he reached out and took hold of the casket.
Craaaaaack!
The skeleton lunged at him.
Guo Jing leaped back. The bones clattered to the ground.
He bolted, running as fast as he could until he was back among the living. He planted the torch in a crack in the floor and helped Lotus up, so that she was leaning against him. Together, they opened the box.
Two thread-bound volumes.
Guo Jing started thumbing through the slimmer one. It contained petitions and memorials Yue Fei had written to the Emperor, calls to arms and declarations of war, essays and commentaries, as well as lyrics and poetry. Every page was an impassioned affirmation of his loyalty, faith, and devotion toward his homeland.
Guo Jing kept making noises in agreement and admiration as he read.
"Read them aloud to me," Lotus murmured.
Guo Jing opened to a short text entitled "Pledge at the Temple of the Five Mountains":
"Since the upheavals in the Central Plains, invasions came from the east and the north. I made my pledge in the lands beyond the Yellow River, rising up in Xiangtai. I enlisted in the army on the day I tied my hair and came of age, and have since fought in more than two hundred battles. Though I have yet to make it far into the eastern wilderness, to purge the nests and hideouts of our enemy, still, I have had the pleasure of avenging at least one of the ten thousand wrongs done to my country.
"Now, once more, I lead a lone brigade, marching out of Yixing. At the battle of Jiankang, we defeated our foe at one beat of the war drum. My sole regret was failing to crush them outright, so not a single horse of theirs could retreat. For now, I train my troops and rest my soldiers, kindling our fighting spirit and steeling our hearts for the next encounter.
"Forward we look to the next battle, the next chance to win honor for our country, to traverse north across the vast sands, to bathe our nemesis' court in blood, to slaughter every invader of our people, to welcome the return of our two Emperors through the gates of our capital, to take back our lands, to forge a new territorial map. Forward we look to our Imperial Court ruling without concern, our lord and ruler reposing at ease. Such is my hope.
"Penned by Yue Fei who was born in the lands beyond the Yellow River."
Though Guo Jing mispronounced some characters he did not recognize, he delivered the passage from the heart. These few lines contained a lifetime's worth of hopes for the patriotic general, and that very same fire was burning in his chest, just reading them, now.
In any other situation, Qiu Qianzhang would have made some snide remark. Yue Fei's blind—nay, pig-headed—loyalty had always grated on him. Such foolishness to stand against the changing tide of history, he thought. Well, it's not a mistake I'd ever make.
And yet, he bit his tongue and instead nodded as if in vehement agreement. "Excellently written. Excellently read. A hero's words from a hero's lips. Excellent! Excellent!"
In his immobile state, he would say anything to keep Guo Jing in good humor, anything to keep the young man from tapping his Heaven's Vent again.
"Papa always wished to have been born a few decades earlier, so he could have met this great hero…" Lotus trailed off, remembering their last exchange. "Can you read some of his poems?"
Guo Jing turned a leaf and read out loud "River Run Red" and "Layered Hills," which she knew well, of course. Then he turned to "Temple of Jade Brilliance" and "For Zhang Yuan," both of which were new to her.
The young couple were deaf to the shouting and cursing outside. By the light of the flickering torch, Guo Jing read out Yue Fei's last poems. Lotus listened, her head resting on Guo Jing's lap.
"This one is called 'The Dragon-Dwelling Temple of Poyang.'
"The temple at the Hill of Soaring Rocks,
Where the woods are tranquil and the springs serene.
Coats of precious gold, the likeness of buddhas,
Caps of snowy white, the heads of aged monks.
Over the pond, the moon's chill grows.
Among the pine, autumn with the night blows.
With these words I come to bid the dragon,
Bring forth the rain to wash the people's woes."
Lotus thought she could hear the wind rustling and birds calling above the racket outside, and a chill engulfed her body. She snuggled up to Guo Jing—gently, lest the Hedgehog Chainmail prick her beloved.
"General Yue never, for one moment, forgot the suffering of the common people. Truly, a great hero!" Guo Jing said, to no one in particular.
"What's in that one?" Lotus asked.
Guo Jing picked up the other volume and read the first few lines. "This is…" His voice wavered in excitement. "Battle strategies! This must be what Wanyan Honglie was trying so hard to find. Thank the heavens it didn't fall into his hands."
The book opened with six lines:
Cautious with recruitment and appointment
Diligent with drilling and training
Just with punishment and reward
Clear with commands and orders
Strict in discipline and rules
United in triumph and hardship
Just when Guo Jing was ready to turn to the next page, he realized the only sound to be heard was the whistle of the wind between the crags.
The shouting had ceased.
For the first time since they had taken shelter inside the cave, an eerie silence had descended.
6
A series of cracks and pops began to break this short-lived stillness, drowning out the murmuring of the night breeze. It was a noise they all knew well.
The splatter and splutter of wood catching fire.
"Thank you, little ones, for a painful death!" Qiu Qianzhang lashed out. He had quite forgotten that he had been honoring them as heroes only moments before.
Guo Jing laid Lotus carefully on the floor and hurried to the entrance of the cave.
He stood looking out, gobsmacked.
Fire.
Walls of glowing hot flames. Pressing in on them. Engulfing every tree and shrub in its path.
Everything was ablaze.
They're going to burn us alive! Guo Jing realized with horror.
He crammed Yue Fei's papers back into the casket and stuffed it inside his shirt, before lifting Lotus into his arms.
On his way out, he kicked the cursing Qiu Qianzhang in the midriff to release the bind on his pressure point and thus restore his mobility.
There was only one way open to him—the summit.
Guo Jing scaled the several hundred feet to the peak with ease. Qiu Qianzhang scampered after him, since he too had nowhere else to turn.
Guo Jing set Lotus down and sighed.
The flames licked and lapped at everything in their way. It was only a matter of time before they reached them.
"General Yue's name, Fei, means 'to soar,'" Lotus said, out of the blue. "His courtesy name was Pengju, 'lifted by the winged peng.' We could instead be 'lifted by the condors'?"
"Huh?"
"The condors. They could carry us down."
"Brilliant!" Guo Jing hopped to his feet. "I hope they're strong enough."
"Better to die trying…"
Sitting down cross-legged, Guo Jing calmed his mind and pooled his qi. He let the energy circle in his Elixir Field, in his lower abdomen.
Moments later, he let out a whistle. It shot far into the distance—a powerful demonstration of the Quanzhen Sect neigong he had learned from Ma Yu, now fortified by lessons from the Nine Yin Manual.
Though Guo Jing was several li above sea level, his voice traveled down the mountain with ease. Almost at once, two white dots appeared in the night sky.
Borne on the wind and illuminated by the light of the moon, the condors had recognized their master's call, which was still echoing between the crags.
Guo Jing helped Lotus take off the Hedgehog Chainmail and lifted her onto the back of the female condor. He then undid one of the long sashes tying her dress together and wound it around the bird, in case Lotus was too weak to cling on.
Once satisfied that Lotus was secure, he mounted the male condor and looped his arms around the bird's neck.
Guo Jing gave the signal and the condors spread their wings.
Seconds later, they were airborne, gliding smoothly through the night sky.
Guo Jing's fear that they would be too heavy for these magnificent creatures was unfounded.
In spite of the pain she was suffering, Lotus was not ready to pass up a chance to taunt Qiu Qianzhang.
Pressing lightly on the condor's neck, she directed the bird to fly just meters above the desperate man, to give him an eyeful of their fantastic escape.
"My lady, take me, please!" Panic, awe, envy. "Save me!"
"She's not strong enough to bear two. Ask your little brother for help. You've got three thousand feet over him, after all."
Giggling quietly, she gave the condor a tap and away they flew.
"But all these treasures will burn with me!" Qiu Qianzhang cried.
Curiosity got the better of Lotus.
The bird swooped down close and Qiu Qianzhang cast himself off the peak. It was his only chance of survival.
He knew that, if by some miracle he managed to descend through the fire unscathed, he would still be walking straight into death's embrace, for he had set foot in the Iron Palm Gang's sacred site, where no living soul was allowed—he had broken the Iron Palm Gang's hallowed rule that even the leader, his own twin brother, could not defy.
The fire had, by now, blocked the entrance to the cave.
Jump. Get on the condor … It was all he could think. He grabbed at Lotus.
The extra weight sent all three into free fall.
The condor beat her wings in desperation. But she kept falling.
Qiu Qianzhang tried to peel Lotus's arms from the condor to take the bird for himself, but he had no idea she was bound to it.
Lotus fought back with what little strength she had, her movement limited by the very sash keeping her secure.
Seconds before they crashed into the valley, moments before they plummeted to certain death, they heard the call of the male condor. He swooped, diving head first alongside his mate, his steel-hard beak pecking at the crown of Qiu Qianzhang's head.
The old man flung his arms up to bat away the attacking bird. The next thing he knew, he was tumbling through the air, until all that remained of him was a desperate wail as he plunged into the depths of the valley.
The female condor cawed with joy at the lightened load. She arched her pinions and, before long, the condors were gliding wing-to-wing, soaring north, their masters clinging firmly to their backs.