CONTEST OF MOUNT HUA

1

"We early arrivals can start first," Viper ouyang said. His voice betrayed no emotion. "Old Beggar, do we fight to win, or to the death?"

"Both. And there's no need to rein yourself in."

"Excellent!"

Viper had been standing with his left arm behind his back, and now, with a flourish, he brought out the Serpent Staff and slammed the butt down on the rocky ground. "Here, or somewhere more spacious?"

Lotus cut in before Count Seven Hong could reply. "Why Mount Hua? You should fight on a boat."

"Huh?" The Beggar was baffled.

"So Master Ouyang can demonstrate yet again how he requites kindness with spite, and hit you with a sneaky blow from behind."

Count Seven chuckled at Lotus's barbed reference to the battle at sea that had seen him injured at Viper Ouyang's hands. "I'll fall for a trick once, but never again. Don't expect me to go easy on you this time, Old Venom."

Viper did not show the slightest reaction to their taunts. He bent slightly at the knees, switched the Serpent Staff to his right hand and summoned his internal strength to his left palm, ready to unleash his Exploding Toad kung fu.

Meanwhile, Lotus presented the Dog-Beating Cane to Count Seven. "Shifu, show him the might of Dog-Beating kung fu and the full power of the Nine Yin Manual. A scoundrel like him doesn't deserve to be treated with respect."

I mustn't wear myself out wrangling with the Venom, Count Seven said to himself, as he accepted the emblem of the Beggar Clan Chief with a nod. Or I won't be able to take on Old Heretic Huang when he arrives.

With that thought, he launched two consecutive moves with such rapidity that they formed a pincer attack—a Strike Grass, Startle Snake from the left, and a Flick Grass, Find Serpent from the right.

Count Seven Hong had never used the Dog Beater against Viper Ouyang, but the Venom was wary of it all the same, having experienced its speed and unpredictability in Lotus's hands.

From the storm whipped up by the bamboo cane, Viper knew he had to tread carefully. He hefted the Serpent Staff, blocking one blow head-on while sidestepping the other, then speared the staff at Count Seven's upper abdomen.

Viper Ouyang was now using a third incarnation of the Serpent Staff, having been deprived of the previous two. This one was crowned with a snarling face more chilling than before, but the adders it concealed were newly trained. They had not yet attained the agility or ferocity in combat of their distinguished forebears.

Count Seven Hong and Viper Ouyang had first faced one another at the original Contest of Mount Hua, when they had vied for martial supremacy and the chance to own the Nine Yin Manual. Their next encounter came on Peach Blossom Island, in a trial to determine whether Guo Jing or Gallant Ouyang would win Lotus's hand. Both bouts, although fierce, were simply about winning—there was nothing more at stake. Their third battle, however, came at sea, on a blazing ship, with their lives hanging by a thread, yet even then Count Seven had restrained himself and refrained from launching deadly moves. He had even intervened to save the Venom from being scourged by a red-hot anchor chain, only for Viper to return the favor by setting his serpents on him and striking him in the back. Count Seven very nearly succumbed to the injuries he had sustained, and it had taken him two years to make a complete recovery. He had never suffered a more costly defeat or experienced a closer brush with mortality. How could he let such an affront go unpunished at their fourth confrontation? This time, both men resolved to unleash the full extent of their martial might, holding nothing back. The slightest misstep would mean instant death.

Time seemed to stand still as two hundred quick-fire moves were exchanged amid a rapid succession of leaps and somersaults. Suddenly, the moon disappeared, leaving the sky darker than ever. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, the two Martial Greats circled each other warily, weapons held high to guard their torsos, keeping the urge to attack in check—for the moment.

The young couple began to edge closer to the fight, ready to rush to Count Seven's aid, if need be. Guo Jing's face was drawn with worry. Shifu has just spent two years recuperating, while the Venom was free to continue his training. The thought made his heart hammer in his chest. So Viper may be more powerful than Shifu now … What a fool I was to spare that villain's life even once!

He wondered if he should step in, but Count Seven had made himself clear—he would fight the Venom one-on-one. Guo Jing's first instinct was to obey his shifu, but doubts continued to gnaw at him. What if Viper injures Shifu again? Who else can stand against this monster? How many more good people will he hurt?

By now, Guo Jing felt he was coming to a more nuanced understanding of how one should keep faith and maintain integrity. It wasn't enough just to live up to your words and beliefs in a literal sense—you also had to consider the context and the consequences. He now saw how stupid he had been—stubborn, inflexible and pig-headed.

Energized by this insight, he felt a rush of warmth filling his core. With the combatants now reconciled to the darkness, the duel was showing the first tentative signs of warming up again. Following its progress through the swishing sounds made by the Dog-Beating Cane and the Serpent Staff as they cut through the air, Guo Jing held one palm before the other, listening closely, poised to help his Master.

Lotus's voice rang out in the dark: "Viper Ouyang! You made a pact with Guo Jing. You vowed not to use force on me, and, in return, Guo Jing agreed to spare your life three times. But you broke your word. Yesterday, in the cave. Any other hero of the wulin would be consumed by shame at the mere thought of it. Only you would be thick-skinned enough to show your face at a contest for the ultimate honor in the martial world the very next day."

Viper had more unscrupulous deeds to his name than he could count, but he took great pride in his reputation as a man who honored his promises. If he had only had more time to learn the Manual's secrets, he would not have overlooked his agreement with Guo Jing and tried to coerce Lotus into sharing her knowledge with him.

His ears burned with shame. He did not enjoy being called out in this way, and, for a brief moment, his focus wavered. The Serpent Staff stalled in the air, and he nearly took a hit from the Dog Beater.

But Lotus wasn't finished with him yet. "Surely it's a serious loss of face for a Martial Great to be shown mercy by a junior? Not just once, but three times! And, to make matters worse, you reneged on the oath you made to that very same young man. Are you really trying to make the jaw of every jianghu hero ache from laughter? Well, well, Old Venom. There's one title you do deserve—the Thickest Skin Under the Heavens!"

Viper seethed with rage. He realized she was trying to rile him and disrupt his control of his internal energy flow. The smallest mistake could spell defeat. He tried to block out her taunts, but it became increasingly difficult as her claims grew more and more scandalous. She went on to attribute a string of notorious deeds to his name, even though he had had nothing to do with any of them. The list of offenses swelled until he was being painted as the source of all evil, personally responsible for every abomination under the heavens.

Well aware that Viper lacked any kind of moral compass, Lotus feared that he would not be sufficiently ruffled by being linked with even the most nefarious acts. She decided to whittle away at his indomitable reputation instead, with stories that cast the conceited martial Master as subservient to those he considered beneath him. There was the time she had seen him begging Lama Supreme Wisdom to spare his life, the time she had heard him calling Hector Sha "Dearest Uncle," and the time he had hailed Tiger Peng as "Father," groveling at his feet for the formula behind the poison that gave his secret weapon its potency.

At first, Viper Ouyang ignored her slanders, but they were soon so outrageous that he could not help being drawn into a battle of words. Sensing that her provocations were hitting the mark, Lotus redoubled her efforts. She recalled how she had happened across him recommending his services to Wanyan Honglie. How he had implored the Jin Prince for the chance to lead his personal guard, and stood sentry outside his chamber every night to convince him. The three confrontations with Guo Jing in the Western Regions scarcely needed embellishing, but she could not resist adding a little spice. She recounted with relish how Guo Jing had spared Viper from being buried alive by sand, frozen to death in an ice block, and drowned in a cesspool. She gleefully detailed how the Martial Great had stripped naked and jumped off the snow-capped peak overlooking Samarkand, watched by hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and how he had been stung on the buttocks by three arrows mid-flight. She urged him to remove his trousers at the very summit of Mount Hua and reveal these battle scars for all to see.

The martial Master had never been so abused in his life, and nor had he been so tested by a fight—both physically and mentally. If he were to prevail, he would have to use the kung fu from the Nine Yin Manual, even though he was yet to master the reversal of every energy flow.

Suddenly, the Serpent Staff came alive in his hands, keening as it sliced through the air, and Count Seven found himself confronted with a fighting style unlike any he had ever known. Alarmed, the Beggar stilled his mind and reined in the Dog Beater to focus on defending himself as he studied the Venom's unorthodox moves.

"Yosiya babashiji shiramanbi."

Viper's head jerked imperceptibly at the sound of Lotus's voice. But he could not recall a single line from the Manual that matched the nonsensical words she had just chanted.

"What does that mean?" he demanded.

How was he to know that it was her own fabrication, as she rolled her tongue to imitate the Sanskrit-inspired phrases? She followed it with a series of random, meaningless sounds, her tone twisting and turning—snapping in anger, then pleading with sincere conviction; sighing in amazement, then singing with joy. She rounded off her performance by crying out several times with increasing urgency, inflecting her voice with a questioning tone.

Viper Ouyang tried desperately to ignore her, but in the end he gave in. "What are you asking me?"

Lotus answered in the same made-up language.

Puzzled, the Venom attempted to respond with a few snatches of the jumble of characters Guo Jing had written down for him. Instantly, a muddle of voices, shapes, kung fu moves and martial mnemonics surged and swelled in urgent waves around his brain. The heavens swirled and the earth swiveled, and all of a sudden he had no idea where he was or what he was doing.

Count Seven spotted a gap in the offensive patterns of Viper's staff and—"Ha!"—he thwacked the Dog Beater down on the crown of his head.

The strike was imbued with all the Beggar's mighty internal strength, and the heavy blow further scrambled the Venom's wits. So confused was the Martial Great that he would have mixed up something as simple as the seven meats and eight vegetables if he were asked—or was it the other way round? With a howl of rage and confusion, he scampered off, holding his staff upside down.

"Where are you going?" Guo Jing asked, making a lunge for the fleeing man.

Viper sprang clear, turned three somersaults in a row, then half rolled and half crawled behind a towering rock, disappearing from view in the blink of an eye.

2

"I wouldn't have beaten the Venom without your help," Count Seven said to Lotus, his tone somewhat subdued. "However, master and disciple working together like that against a lone opponent isn't particularly honorable."

"But you taught me that kung fu!"

"What you've just demonstrated can't be taught—you have to be born with it. And there's only one rascal of a man who could sire a little imp like you."

A booming voice answered Count Seven. "Old Beggar, have you taken to calling people names behind their back?"

"Papa!" Lotus ran toward the man who was striding up the rocky mountain path. The light of dawn cast a soft glow on his green robe and plain scholar's headscarf.

Apothecary Huang, Heretic of the East and Lord of Peach Blossom Island.

Lotus threw herself into her father's arms and hugged him tightly. It had been a year since they had last seen each other. Apothecary Huang could see that his little girl had blossomed into a graceful young woman. The resemblance to her late mother was so strong that he sensed an undercurrent of grief surging to the surface, in spite of his joy at their reunion.

"Heretic Huang, remember what I told you on Peach Blossom Island?" Count Seven said, after hailing the new arrival. "Your lovely daughter is quick-witted and armed with a bellyful of plots. You'll never have to worry about her, because she'll always come out on top. No one can hope to outwit her. Tell me, was this Beggar right?"

Smiling, Apothecary Huang extricated himself from his daughter's embrace, took her by the hand and approached Count Seven Hong. "My sincere congratulations on defeating the Venom. It lifts a heavy weight off your heart and mine."

The Beggar bowed low. "Now it's our turn. Come, come, let's get started. The moment I set eyes on your daughter, I think of her cooking and the worms in my belly squirm with excitement. I don't care which of us is named the Greatest. The sooner we're done, the sooner I get to taste her food and my mouth can stop watering."

Lotus giggled. "Shifu, I said I'd only cook for you if you lose."

"Pah! Shameless little wench. Are you trying to threaten me?" Count Seven hissed in mock reproof.

"Old Beggar, your injury has cost you two years of training. I fear we may no longer be evenly matched." Apothecary Huang tried to keep his tone matter of fact. "And, Lotus, you must treat your shifu to the greatest dishes under the heavens, regardless of the result."

"Such words befit the status of a grandmaster! I knew the Lord of Peach Blossom Island couldn't be as petty as the young lass, here." Count Seven hefted the Dog-Beating Cane. "Come! Let's begin!"

Apothecary Huang shook his head. "You have just had a long battle with the Venom. I refuse to take advantage of your weakened state. We shall wait until noon, so you have time to restore your energy."

Count Seven understood his logic, but was raring to go nonetheless. Apothecary Huang sat on a rock, paying him no heed.

"Papa, Shifu, I have a suggestion—you can fight now and it will still be fair."

The two Martial Greats eyed the young woman expectantly.

"It is the Contest of Mount Hua today, and a winner must be determined. But, if you were to duel directly, whatever the outcome, it might cause a rift in your friendship. I propose, instead of fighting each other, you both take on Guo Jing. Papa will go first, then Shifu when he has recovered his strength. Whoever requires the least moves to beat Guo Jing will be named the victor."

The Beggar laughed. "Very clever!"

"Papa and Guo Jing are both fresh, and when Guo Jing challenges you, Shifu, you'll have both completed one fight. Now, that's fair, isn't it?"

Apothecary Huang nodded. "Come, Guo Jing. Would you like to use a weapon?"

"No," the youth replied.

But Lotus wasn't quite done yet. "There's still one question to resolve. What if neither of you manages to subdue Guo Jing within three hundred moves?"

Count Seven gave a hearty laugh. "Old Heretic, for a moment, I envied you for having such a devoted daughter, committed to helping you win the ultimate honor. But she has just demonstrated an eternal truth—they always put their sweetheart first! She concocted the whole scheme to present that silly lad of hers with the title of Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens!"

Apothecary Huang had always doted on Lotus and he did not mind granting his daughter her wish. "If we old men fail to overcome the boy in three hundred moves, what right do we have to be hailed as the Greatest?"

Nodding in agreement, Count Seven gave Guo Jing a shove. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

The young man stumbled, unsure how he should proceed. He had no desire to win any titles, but he was in a position to influence the outcome. Who deserves the honor more? he asked himself. Should he help either one of them to claim it?

The Heretic was also presented with a dilemma. I can hold back to help the boy last three hundred moves, but what if the Beggar takes his duel seriously? Then I'd be handing him the title! Hmm … Let me gauge Guo Jing's ability first, then I can decide on a course of action.

"First move!" Apothecary Huang twirled his left palm and aimed an angled slash at Guo Jing's shoulder.

Guo Jing raised his right arm to block the strike. The impact sent a shudder through him, almost knocking him off his feet.

He laughed inwardly at himself, shaking his head. How silly I was, thinking I'd need to hold back. I have no hope of withstanding a hundred moves, let alone three hundred, even with all my training!

His mind made up, Guo Jing now gave the duel his undivided attention. He would favor neither martial Master and concentrate instead on lasting as long as he could.

And yet, after the initial exchanges, it was Apothecary Huang who was feeling apprehensive. He had put two-thirds of his strength into his moves so far, but still found himself hemmed in by Guo Jing's offensive patterns. When did this silly boy reach such an advanced level? he asked himself. If it continues like this, he might even beat me outright!

His pride stung, Apothecary Huang launched into one of his most prized martial inventions, Cascading Peach Blossom Palm, flitting in and around Guo Jing, his palms a waspish blur, as he fought to regain the upper hand. And yet, a dozen kung fu repertoires and more than a hundred moves later, he was still unable to bring the fight under his control. Fearful of being overwhelmed, he was forced to resort to a low trick to land a kick to his opponent's left shin and buy himself a little time.

Shame on me! Apothecary Huang let out a breath of relief as the glancing blow sent Guo Jing scuttling back two steps. The Heretic piled on the pressure, launching a series of unrelenting attacks intended to overwhelm the young man, like blasting winds and crashing waves might swamp a boat at sea. But Guo Jing was unshakeable in his defense, maintaining the duel's balance of power without once showing the slightest weakness or sign of fatigue.

"Two hundred and three, two hundred and four…"

Apothecary Huang was getting flustered. What if the Beggar crushes Guo Jing within a hundred moves? He altered his combat style yet again, unleashing a succession of swift palm strikes that fluttered hither and thither like butterflies' shadows.

The phenomenal speed of this assault dazzled Guo Jing. It felt as though he was being crushed under the weight of a mountain. Starbursts filled his vision. His breathing was rapid and shallow.

Sensing that Guo Jing was at last succumbing, Apothecary Huang intensified his lightning barrage. Lotus was counting faster and faster too.

Guo Jing's lips were dry, his tongue was on fire, his arms and legs achy and sore. He was hanging on through sheer force of will.

"Three hundred!"

The Heretic leaped back, his expression betraying a momentary loss of composure.

Guo Jing was reeling, seeing double. Now that the fight was over, he found his body whirling leftwards of its own accord. Turning through a dozen involuntary rotations, he could tell that just a few more would send him crashing to the ground. He stamped his left foot down with the full force of Thousand Jin Load kung fu, managing to stall the spinning for a split second. But the aftershock of Apothecary Huang's neigong was still roiling in his system, and, moments later, he was overcome once more. This time, to keep himself steady, he bent from the waist and thrust down with his right hand. Pushing with all his strength, he employed a variation of Dragon in the Field to rachet himself the other way. After twenty rotations, his mind at last began to settle.

"Father," he said, bowing before Apothecary Huang, "if you had made one more move, you'd have knocked me over."

"I like how you address my papa," Lotus remarked with a giggle.

Apothecary Huang was thoroughly impressed by the way Guo Jing had found his feet after being turned about by the Five Spins of the Mysterious Gates, a kung fu which had taken him nigh on twenty years to perfect.

"Old Beggar, the title is yours." He cupped his hands in respect and turned to leave.

"Not so hasty. We don't know for sure yet," Count Seven said. "Will you lend Guo Jing your iron xiao flute?"

Apothecary Huang had snapped his jade flute in two when he thought Lotus had drowned at sea, and he now carried a plainer specimen, made of iron, in its place. He pulled it from his belt and handed it to the young man.

Count Seven nodded encouragingly. "Take it. I'll fight with my bare hands."

"Huh?" Guo Jing gaped at his shifu.

"I taught you your palm kung fu. You won't get far using that. Steady! Here comes the first move!" Quick as a flash, Count Seven locked Guo Jing's wrist with his left hand, then seized the iron flute. The young man let it slip out of his grasp, offering no resistance. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with the musical instrument.

"Stupid boy, this is a martial contest!" Count Seven slapped the xiao into Guo Jing's open palm with his left hand, then immediately reached for it with his right. This time, Guo Jing evaded his groping hand with a neat twirl.

"One." That was the signal for Lotus to begin the count.

Guo Jing had never been adept at armed combat, and the techniques he had been taught by the Six Freaks of the South were not particularly sophisticated. But, when he had found the sword in the deserted village in the Western Regions, he had developed their repertoires using insights gleaned from the Nine Yin Manual, coming up with methods for staving off the neigong power imbued in each swing of the Venom's staff. Now he applied all he had learned to his handling of the iron xiao, and it was proving just as effective against Count Seven's palm thrusts.

The Beggar was pleased to see his disciple crafting such a watertight defense. The lad has improved no end, he observed with pride. The hours I spent training him certainly weren't wasted … But, if I beat him within two hundred moves, I'll be showing the Old Heretic up. I know! I'll wait until we reach the two-hundred mark before I get too heavy-handed.

He settled into Haughty Dragon Repents, the first of the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, and began to cycle through the whole repertoire in all its nine variations. Each thrust ripped noisily through the air, as Guo Jing was enveloped within the fleeting shadows of the Beggar's two hands.

And yet, Count Seven Hong had made a strategic error. If he had been ruthless from the start, he could have routed Guo Jing, for the young man's skills with a weapon lagged some way behind his palm kung fu. In choosing to begin his offensive in earnest after two hundred moves, he was both underestimating Guo Jing's stamina and overestimating his own.

Aged twenty, Guo Jing was at his physical peak, and his already formidable internal energy had been enriched at the source thanks to the Transforming Muscles, Forging Bones technique from the Nine Yin Manual. Count Seven was not only several decades older, he had also just recovered from a crippling internal injury that was compounded by a deadly snakebite. Even though his kung fu had been restored, it was a trauma that had shaken his very core—the deep well from which the Dragon-Subduing Palm drew its power.

By the time he had worked his way through the ninth round of the Dragon-Subduing Palm, Count Seven had unleashed one hundred and sixty-two palm strikes. Though they were still fierce and sharp, their impact was reduced, and their aftereffects did not linger so long in Guo Jing's system. For him, the first two hundred moves were a period of adjustment, allowing him to settle on an effective response. Though the defensive sword strokes he was sketching with the iron flute were merely an adequate deterrent, the counterattacks he was launching with his left hand were growing in efficacy. Count Seven soon recognized the problem facing him. With his dwindling strength, he could not hope to win out through brute force alone. But he might stand a chance if he could outwit the boy … And so, the Beggar spread his arms wide, leaving his chest undefended.

Shifu has never shown me this! Startled by the unfamiliar technique, Guo Jing hesitated. He could easily thrust his weapon into Count Seven's upper abdomen or chest, but how could he deal his teacher what would surely be a lethal blow?

"You've fallen for my trick!" Count Seven's left foot flew up, kicking the iron xiao out of Guo Jing's hand. Laughing in triumph, he flipped his right palm and sliced it down at an angle, striking the young man on his left shoulder.

Count Seven only channeled four-fifths of his strength into the blow, thinking it would be enough to knock Guo Jing off his feet and secure his victory, without actually injuring the boy. But Guo Jing had grown stouter and hardier over the past year, living in the saddle, at the mercy of gales and snowstorms. The pain was severe, but, though he staggered back from the impact, he did not fall.

Surprised to see Guo Jing still standing, the Beggar was quick to offer a word of advice. "Breathe in and out three times, slow and steady, so you won't get an internal injury."

Guo Jing did as he was told. Once the roiling sensation in his chest had eased, he bowed to his Master. "Shifu, you have won."

"No, I haven't. You could've struck me in the belly, but you chose not to. I doubt the Heretic will accept such a result. Carry on!"

Deprived of his weapon, Guo Jing now began to employ Luminous Hollow Fist to counter Count Seven's palm thrusts.

When developing this kung fu on Peach Blossom Island, Zhou Botong had drawn on concepts from the Classic of the Way and Virtue. In this Taoist canon, it is said that, "Strong armies can be crushed, strong trees can be snapped. Tough strength has its downsides, supple weakness has its upsides." The Classic also states that, "Nothing is more supple or weak than water, yet nothing surpasses its ability to attack the tough and strong, and nothing can be its substitute. The weak overcomes the strong, the supple conquers the firm. Everyone under the heavens knows it, though no one can put it into practice."

Inspired by these notions, as well as the ancient saying, "The supple can overcome the firm," Luminous Hollow Fist allowed one to cultivate a supple control of strength that offered a means to curb the power of the Dragon-Subduing Palm, a kung fu that was its opposite in every way—direct, forthright and unyielding. In theory, at least. In practice, it came down to martial ability; even Zhou Botong would struggle to subdue a master of Count Seven Hong's stature.

But the Hoary Urchin had more than one trick up his sleeve, and he had also taught his sworn brother his second great innovation, Competing Hands. Using this unique technique, Guo Jing was able to launch moves from Luminous Hollow Fist with his right hand and moves from Dragon-Subduing Palm with his left.

As the duel wore on, Guo Jing began, without any conscious effort on his part, to meld the firm with the supple, so yin and yang were in support of each other. The results were phenomenal. None of Count Seven's strikes could find a way though, and Guo Jing was quite capable of holding his own.

The excitement in Lotus's voice was becoming more and more evident as they approached the three-hundredth move.

"Two hundred ninety-nine!"

Count Seven's competitive instincts would not let him submit without one last throw of the dice. He let rip with a Haughty Dragon Repents, crying "Watch out!" as he channeled his inner strength to his arms. After all, the Beggar only wished to beat his student, not to hurt him.

Guo Jing felt a mighty force, with the power to topple mountains and overturn seas, sweep into him. He knew he could not counter this level of ferocity with Luminous Hollow Fist, so instead he traced a circle with his right arm. Whoosh! He too sent forth a Haughty Dragon Repents.

Their hands met with a pang! Their bodies shuddered.

Apothecary Huang and Lotus gasped and rushed over to check on them. Their palms seemed to have fused together.

Guo Jing was willing to concede, but he knew that, if he withdrew his strength too soon, he would end up absorbing the brunt of the attack. The only way to avoid injury was to hold Count Seven's force at bay with his own neigong until the sting was drawn from it. When it was safe to disengage, he would gladly accept defeat.

Count Seven, meanwhile, had not imagined that his opponent would have the skill to counter his Haughty Dragon Repents head-on, for it was a move he had spent a lifetime perfecting. Delighted by this unexpected proof of his student's talent, the Beggar decided that the day should belong to Guo Jing. It would be his pleasure to help the boy consolidate his reputation in the wulin. With that thought, Count Seven began to withdraw the flow of his inner strength.

3

Three chilling howls echoed between the crags. Guo Jing, Lotus and the two Martial Greats stared about in alarm. All at once, in a whirl of robes, a figure materialized before their eyes, suddenly in their midst. Instead of walking on his feet, he had covered the distance from his hiding place in three acrobatic flips.

Viper Ouyang, the Venom of the West, had returned. His clothes were torn and tattered. Streaks of blood ran down his face.

"I have mastered the secret method of the Nine Yin Manual. I am the Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens!" he declared, swinging the Serpent Staff.

Count Seven Hong snatched up the Dog-Beating Cane and lunged to meet the sweeping blow that was arcing toward the four of them. The stalemate with Guo Jing had ended the instant they sensed Viper's presence.

Just a handful of moves was enough to leave Count Seven shocked to the core by what he was witnessing from his opponent. Viper's kung fu had always been peculiar, but his behavior now was both freakish and erratic. One moment he dragged his fingers down his own cheek, the next he kicked his own buttocks with his heel. Each swipe of his staff juddered midcourse before continuing along an entirely unexpected new path. It was impossible to anticipate where each blow would land. The Beggar weaved a tight net of defense with the Dog Beater, too perturbed to risk any kind of countermove.

Pak, pak, pak! Viper cuffed himself on the ear three times and let out a howl. He then took two round stones from the inside pocket of his robe, put them on the ground and placed his hands over them. He flipped into a handstand, then began scuttling around on all fours.

Count Seven was mystified. Why are you crawling around like a dog? Have you forgotten that my cane kung fu was devised for beating curs like you? Chuckling inwardly, he speared his weapon into the Venom's flank.

Viper flipped and rolled, trapping the Dog Beater under him. He kept on turning, claiming more of the cane and forcing Count Seven to loosen his grip. Then he sprang up and kicked both feet out in quick succession. Count Seven had no choice but to let go and back away.

Apothecary Huang, Guo Jing and Lotus were stunned. Lotus had retrieved the iron xiao flute when it was torn from Guo Jing's grasp, and now she handed it to her father. Thus armed, Apothecary Huang lunged, placing himself between the Venom and Count Seven.

Viper pounced, his clawed fingers groping for the flute. "King Duan, I do not fear your Yang in Ascendance!" he shouted.

He's not right in the head, the Heretic thought as he eyed this wild reaction. The Venom had always been savage in combat, but there was now a feral edge to his aggression that Huang had not detected in their previous encounters, and he had no idea what could have brought about such a transformation.

In fact, not even the Venom himself understood the source of his odd behavior. He had not realized the Nine Yin Manual he had studied so assiduously was made up. Its nonsensical content had already set his head spinning long before Lotus put in motion her plot to lead him astray through deliberate misguidance. From the start, he had accepted every word as the undisputed truth, and blundered blindly from one false promise to the next in his desperation to master the techniques in the shortest possible time. And, if that was not bad enough, he had been whacked on the head while in this deluded state by Count Seven Hong.

Though he had been on an erroneous path from the very beginning, Viper's firm martial foundation had allowed him to somehow forge a way through, and now his attacks were so erratic and unpredictable that the two other Martial Greats present could only look on, mouths agape.

In just a few dozen moves, Viper had Apothecary Huang on the run, and it was Guo Jing's turn to enter fray. But one look at the young man was enough to reduce the Venom to tears.

"My boy! You died such a terrible death!"

He cast the Serpent Staff aside and threw his arms wide to envelop Guo Jing, filling the air with his heart-rending wails. The addled martial Master had clearly confused him with his late nephew, Gallant Ouyang.

Guo Jing launched a palm thrust to keep the distraught man at bay, but Viper simply turned the blow aside with his left wrist, locked his fingers over the attacking arm and pulled Guo Jing into an embrace. The young man struggled with all his might, but Viper's grasp was too strong—he could barely move.

Count Seven rushed in to jab the Phoenix Tail pressure point at the base of the Venom's spine, but it had no effect whatsoever. The inversed meridian flow had shifted the position of every acupoint in Viper's body.

Lotus crept up, hoping to hit Viper on the head with a rock. The deranged martial Master balled his right hand into a fist and threw an uppercut, sending the stone flying into the air. Guo Jing seized his chance, taking advantage of the distraction to ease himself out of Viper's grip and leap out of reach.

Their embrace broken, the Venom seemed to forget about him instantly, focusing instead on a renewed tussle with the Heretic. This time, Apothecary Huang was fighting barehanded, his iron flute tucked into his belt. Every move Viper made was more outlandish than the last. Sometimes he was upside down, sometimes he was the right way up. He even supported himself with just one hand, holding his body stretched out parallel to the ground, while his free hand thrust and probed, weaving one complex pattern after another.

Apothecary Huang was too busy defending himself to pay much attention to these unusual stances, but the other three were awed by the display.

Lotus could not bear to see her father so hard-pressed. "Shifu, we shouldn't have to follow the wulin rules when dealing with a mad man like him. Let's help Papa!"

Count Seven's expression was grim. "I'd agree with you on any other day, but today is the Contest of Mount Hua. Only single combat is permitted. If we gang up on the Venom, we'll be mocked by every hero of the jianghu."

Even as they deliberated, Viper's onslaught was growing ever more frenzied. Foaming at the mouth, he had now taken to charging into his opponent with his head lowered. The demented way he threw himself into each attack forced Apothecary Huang to fall farther and farther back.

Suddenly, Viper paused, twitching and shuddering, his eyes rolling in his head, before lurching forward without warning to launch a fresh tide of relentless, maddened fury. But, this time, he left his upper body undefended.

Only the truly insane fight with so little regard for their own well-being, Apothecary Huang said to himself, sensing an opportunity to neutralize his opponent once and for all. He flexed the fingers of his right hand in a Supernal Flick, aiming for the Welcome Fragrance pressure point on the side of the Venom's nose.

Apothecary Huang's lunge was impossibly quick, far outstripping the human eye, but just as his fingertip grazed Viper Ouyang's nose, the man twisted around and sunk his teeth into the offending digit.

Horrified, the Heretic groped for the Venom's temple, aiming for the Great Sun point, but the Venom simply brushed his hand away and bit down harder.

Guo Jing pounced on Viper Ouyang and snaked his arm around his neck in a wrestling move he had learned growing up on the Mongolian steppe. The Venom let his jaw slacken and swiveled out of the headlock.

"Well done, Guo Jing!" Lotus cried, applauding. "That's what a good son-in-law should do!"

Apothecary Huang also granted Guo Jing a smile, impressed by his swift and selfless intervention.

But now Lotus was forced to rush to Guo Jing's aid as Viper Ouyang turned his vicious moves on him. Sensing her approach, the Venom snapped around and clawed at her face with both hands. In the glaring sunlight, the snarl on his blood-stained features was a terrifying sight. Lotus stumbled back with a yelp, while Guo Jing threw a palm strike to draw the Venom's attention. The young man paid a price for his gallantry—after just a dozen exchanges, he had taken blows on the shoulder and the leg.

"Guo Jing, get back, let me try." Count Seven stepped forward, barehanded this time. He had now observed Viper Ouyang's peculiar kung fu long enough to identify a rough pattern. These mercurial new moves resembled the Venom's most frequently employed palm techniques, but they were often inverted—what had been high was now low, and left had been swapped with right. Although the reversals were not so straightforward in every case, the Beggar now had a general idea of what the Venom might do next, and was able to launch a counterstroke once every three moves.

Apothecary Huang kept his eyes trained on the duel while Lotus bandaged his finger with a handkerchief. He also recognized familiar elements in Viper's movements, and, once he started to spot gaps in his attack, he began to call them out:

"Brother Seven, kick him at Jumping Round, in the buttocks!"

"Uppercut to the Great Tower Gate, in the stomach!"

"Backhand slash to Celestial Pillar, at the back of the neck."

With Apothecary Huang's help, Count Seven Hong was at last fighting Viper Ouyang on an equal footing, but it was humiliating that it had required their combined efforts to get him to this point.

Little by little, the Beggar was taking control of the fight, and, to all watching, it seemed certain that, in a few more moves, he would emerge victorious. Suddenly, he heard Viper hawking up phlegm in his throat and, moments later, the fruits of the Venom's labors came flying at his face. He twisted aside, avoiding the spittle, but the Venom had anticipated his reaction and was hacking his palm down to shut off his escape, while coughing up and sending forth another gob of expectorate.

Count Seven was now caught between Viper's strange kung fu and the disgusting projectile heading his way. He would prefer not to be hit by the sputum, seeing as it was dispatched with a martial Master's internal force. If it hit him in the eye, the main concern, other than the pain would be the opportunity it would give Viper to sneak up on him. With great reluctance, Count Seven snatched the slobber in his right hand, then thrust his left in retaliation. Viper dredged up yet more mucus—he had now added shooting phlegm from his lips to his martial repertoire—while continuing to throw punches and palm strikes.

Count Seven burned with fury at this insulting attack. The slimy sensation in his right hand was becoming unbearable, but he did not want to wipe the gunk onto his clothes.

"This is yours!" the Beggar cried, lurching forward to smear it over the Venom's face. The move contained a hidden, lethal sting.

Despite his confused state of mind, Viper Ouyang was physically more alert and responsive than ever. He turned his head by a fraction, evading the Beggar's swipe with ease. Count Seven flipped his palm over and thrust, aiming a finger jab at his opponent's face. Viper bared his teeth, ready to snap his jaw shut.

The very move that had caught Apothecary Huang unawares. Though absurd and undignified, it was executed with such rapidity that it was impossible to avoid.

Apothecary Huang, Guo Jing and Lotus saw what was coming. Count Seven's hand was less than an inch from Viper's mouth. They stood transfixed as the Venom parted his lips, revealing two rows of white teeth gleaming in the sun.

"Watch out!"

"Oh no!"

All four of them, Viper included, had forgotten one thing. Count Seven Hong had two titles. Beggar of the North was one. The other was Divine Vagrant Nine Fingers. Years ago, thanks to his gluttony, he lost track of time and failed to save the life of a good man of the jianghu. To punish himself for his lack of self-control, he cut off the forefinger—which is associated with the appetite—of his right hand.

Viper's bite was quick and precise. Clack! His jaw snapped shut on … nothing. Of course, the story of the Beggar's missing finger was well known throughout the wulin, but, in such an intense contest, one that had seen Viper pouncing and prowling like a mad tiger, how could he be expected to recall such a minor detail?

And small errors of this kind were often what determined the outcome of a duel between great Masters of equal standing—otherwise the fight would last for days. Taking advantage of the split second it took Viper to react to his misjudgment, Count Seven launched a Hearty Laughter, poking the Earth Granary vital point at the corner of the Venom's mouth with his middle finger.

Viper Ouyang felt the hit on this major pressure point of the Stomach Meridian, but his inverted energy flow meant that the attack only caused a slight numbness in his body. In no time at all, he had regained his full range of motion and was able to retaliate with a palm strike to the Beggar's shoulder.

Fortunately for Count Seven Hong, the acupoint jab had succeeded in curtailing Viper's strength to some extent, and he managed to dissipate the brunt of the blow's remaining neigong energy by flipping backward along its path. It was not an elegant retreat, but it bought the Beggar enough time and space to launch one final, desperate counterattack. Digging his right heel into the ground to anchor himself, he let fly with a Dragon in the Field.

The powerful strike forced the Venom to stagger back several steps, tottering unsteadily like a drunkard. When he finally secured his footing, he threw his head back and cackled at the sky.

Count Seven had escaped unscathed, but he was numb and sore. As an experienced grandmaster, he knew it was time to withdraw from the fight and admit defeat. He wrapped his palm over his fist and said, "Brother Ouyang, this Old Beggar concedes. The day is yours. You are the Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens."

Viper let out another laugh and threw his arms up in feverish excitement. He turned to Apothecary Huang. "King Duan, do you concede?"

The Heretic was reluctant to accept that he had been bested, especially by a man who had clearly lost his wits. He realized that, if they allowed Viper Ouyang to claim the title, he and the Beggar would be the laughing stock of the wulin, but neither of them stood a chance against the crazed martial Master, so he had no choice but to nod grudgingly.

"My son, are you happy? Your papa is invincible! No one can match your papa's kung fu!" Once again, Viper was mistaking Guo Jing for Gallant Ouyang. In his confusion, he had also revealed a long-hidden secret: Gallant was known publicly as his nephew, but he was in fact Viper's own issue—the secret love child of a liaison with his sister-in-law.

"We can't beat you," Guo Jing said, for it was the truth and he could not deny that Viper deserved the honor.

Viper greeted his submission with gleeful laughter, before turning to Lotus. "Are you pleased, dear daughter?"

Lotus had not stopped thinking of ways to tackle the madman in their midst. Now, at last, she felt an idea was within her grasp. The confused questions, the odd expressions, the waving arms and tapping feet, his shadow dancing about in the same manic way … it all pointed to one thing …

"Who says you're the Greatest?" Lotus said. "There's still someone you can't beat."

Viper Ouyang thumped his chest and roared in fury. "Who? Who is this person? Tell him to come here and fight me now!"

"He's very skilled. You don't stand a chance."

"Who is he? Tell him to come now!"

"Viper Ouyang."

The Venom scratched his head. "… Viper … Ouyang?"

"Yes. Viper Ouyang. Your kung fu is excellent, but you can't beat Viper Ouyang."

The name whirled round and round the Venom's chaotic mind. "Viper Ouyang" sounded so familiar. He felt it was someone he knew intimately … but, then again … he was not sure who he was anymore …

"Who am I?" he blurted out.

"You are you. Think! Who are you?"

A chill went through Viper's heart. He asked himself as Lotus had suggested, and felt his tangled thoughts growing more and more knotted and the answer ever more elusive.

The questions of "Who am I?", "What was I before I was born?", "What will become of me when I die?", which had haunted philosophers through the ages, had, on occasion, kept Viper Ouyang awake at night too. And, in his current confused state, they were enough to send him into a stupor.

The Venom looked around blankly, muttering, "Me? Who am I? Where am I? What's happened to me?"

"Viper Ouyang wants to fight you. He wants your Nine Yin Manual."

"Where is he?"

Lotus pointed at his shadow. "There. Behind you."

The Venom spun round. With the sun on his back, a crisp silhouette of his body was cast on the cliff wall. He punched. He thrust his palm. The dark shape on the rock face mirrored his exact movements. He sent a flying kick, striking his foot into the rock. He pulled back in great pain, startled.

"What … He…" the Martial Great stammered.

"He hit back," Lotus observed, her tone matter of fact.

The Venom crouched and launched his palms at the shadow. The inky double responded simultaneously with the same kung fu. He felt a solid force resisting him and his opponent did not quail in the slightest. Panicked, he delivered a rapid-fire barrage—left, right, left, right. The darkened figure responded in kind, matching strength with strength. When he channeled more power into each blow, his adversary retaliated with equal force.

Recognizing that he was up against a truly formidable foe, the Venom turned side on to his opponent to better guard his frame. Now that he was facing the sun, his shadow was behind him.

"Where are you going?" He spun round and leaped at the fleeing silhouette with the sun on his back.

On this stretch of cliff wall, his shadow looked as if it were standing up straight. The Venom swung his right palm and it landed square on his opponent, but so intense was the pain that he thought his bones had been crushed.

"Good kung fu!" the Venom cried, letting fly with his left foot.

His foe intercepted him with the same move, and agonizing pain followed.

Viper Ouyang dared not launch another attack. He turned and fled, running in the direction of the sun. After a short while, he was relieved to discover that he had lost sight of his enemy. He looked back to see if the man was truly gone, only to find him hot on his heels, trailing after him in a most curious manner. He had never seen anybody move like that before, and he was filled with abject terror.

"You're the Greatest! You've won! I submit to you!"

Receiving no response, the Venom took off again. A moment later, he glanced back over his shoulder. To his horror, he saw that the man was stalking his every step—he just would not let him be. The Venom tried shoving him away. He tried beating him back. But his relentless foe simply would not give up.

Howling in terror, Viper Ouyang raced downhill as fast as he could, his cries echoing between the many peaks of Mount Hua: "I submit to you! Stop chasing me!"

4

Viper Ouyang's cries and pleas were faint now, yet they still echoed up from the gorge from time to time. He must have covered several li already. His voice, like a wolf's howl or the shriek of a ghost on the wind, sent a chill to one's core that not even the warm sunlight could dispel.

Saddened to see their peer and a fellow martial Master laid so low, Apothecary Huang and Count Seven Hong shared a sigh.

"His end is coming…"

The Beggar's remark caused Guo Jing to jerk his head and he began to mutter to himself: "You mean me?… Who am I?"

"You are Guo Jing!" Lotus exclaimed immediately. "Think about anything but yourself." Given his bull-headed nature, she feared that he would refuse to let go of the question and suffer the same fate as Viper Ouyang.

Her reminder snapped Guo Jing out of his trance. "… Right! Shifu, Lord Huang, let's make our way down."

"Lord Huang?" Count Seven snorted. "Do you want to be cuffed on the ears again? Stupid lad!"

"Guo Jing, remember how you addressed Papa earlier…" Lotus said with a blush and a bashful smile.

"Father!" the young man blurted out, after a brief pause.

Laughing in approval, Apothecary Huang took Lotus by the hand, then offered his free arm to Guo Jing.

"Brother Seven, the martial arts do indeed present all of us with myriad paths, and none of them are finite. The Old Venom's kung fu is truly astonishing and humbling, but, with the passing of the Double Sun Immortal Wang Chongyang, it would seem that there is no one truly worthy of the title of Greatest Martial Master Under the Heavens."

"Well, there's one Greatest Under the Heavens I can vouch for," Count Seven said. "Lotus and her cooking."

The young woman giggled into her hand. "Spare me your flattery. I'll make some tasty dishes once we've made our way down."

After they had settled into a guest house at the foot of Mount Hua, Lotus busied herself with the evening's feast, choosing the best seasonal, local ingredients and preparing them with great care. Count Seven Hong gorged himself until his belly could hold no more. That night, Guo Jing shared a room with his shifu, but, when he opened his eyes in the morning, his bed was empty. There were three characters traced in grease on the table:

Fare thee well

Whether they were written with a chicken drumstick or a pig's trotter, it was impossible to tell.

Downhearted, Guo Jing went to see Apothecary Huang and Lotus to inform them of Count Seven's departure.

"This has always been Brother Seven's way," Huang said. "One may only catch a glimpse of the divine dragon's head or its tail—never its full glory." He turned to Guo Jing. "Would you like to come with me to Peach Blossom Island? I am hoping you will invite your first shifu, Ke Zhen'e, to officiate the marriage ceremony. I understand Master Ke is now the person closest to you, after your mother's passing."

Overwhelmed by opposing feelings of grief and joy, Guo Jing had trouble putting his thoughts into words, so he settled for bobbing his head in enthusiastic agreement.

Lotus loved teasing Guo Jing when he was dumbstruck, but, this time, she glanced at her father and swallowed her jibe.

The Heretic had little patience for silly banter and he did not like making small talk. After traveling with the young couple for a few days, he decided to make his own way.

"Papa is so understanding," Lotus said with a laugh. "He knows we can't be free and at ease in his company, and neither can he with us!" She proceeded to list the sights she wanted to see along the way—the majestic mountains and the grand lakes and rivers. She suggested a route from west to east, starting from the regions of East Jingzhaofu and Nanjing and taking in the cities of Luoyang and Kaifeng; after that, they would head south and roam around the areas of Huainan, Jiangnan and finally West Zhe, before heading to the coast for passage to Peach Blossom Island.

"What do you think, Guo Jing? The two of us together, happy and carefree. Isn't this how life should be?"

BEFORE THEY set off, Guo Jing purchased a horse for himself, so Lotus could ride alone on Ulaan. The first half of the trip took them through Jin territory, but, since the Jurchens had been crushed by the Mongolians at every turn in recent years, they had lost control of much of the land to the east of Tong Pass that Lotus was interested in exploring. The young lovers were able to make their way in peace, without being troubled by Jin soldiers along the way.

As they approached Guangde, in East Jiangnan, a familiar caw sounded in the air. Guo Jing looked up to see the white condors winging their way south. He had fled Mongolia in such a frantic state that he had given up hope of ever seeing them again. Thrilled, he whistled for the birds' attention. They swooped down and greeted their masters with affectionate nuzzles. As Guo Jing stroked their backs, he noticed a small roll of leather fastened to the male condor's foot. He untied it. A few lines in Mongolian had been scratched onto its surface with the point of a dagger.

Our armies are marching to conquer the Great Song. My father knows that you have returned to the South, but has not changed his mind about the campaign. I know you are loyal to your country and would brave death to defend it. I have been the cause of your mother's tragic end, and I am too ashamed to see you again. I have traveled to the extreme west to seek my eldest brother's protection and will not return to this land of old for the rest of my days. As the proverb says, the camel may be strong, but it cannot carry a thousand men—to bear such a weight is to die in vain. I hope you will cherish yourself and live a long life with infinite blessings.

The note was not addressed to anyone and it contained no signature, but it was clear that Princess Khojin had intended it for Guo Jing. He translated the message for Lotus.

"'The camel cannot carry a thousand men.' What an odd thing to say!"

"It's a Mongolian saying, similar to the Chinese phrase, 'A single log cannot support a tall tower.'"

Lotus nodded. "It's always been clear the Mongolians would invade the Song, but, for her to put it in writing, she must be very fond of you indeed."

AFTER A few more days on the road, Guo Jing and Lotus crossed into western Two Zhes and rode into Changxing, on the southern shore of Lake Tai. Surrounded by fertile farmland, it should have been a prosperous town, but its proximity to the border between the Jin and the Song in the Huainan and Jiangnan regions had convinced many of its inhabitants to flee south, abandoning their fields and their homes.

The young couple passed through the desolated town and its outlying villages, taking a path that led them up a mountain. The grass and weeds along the trail were so overgrown that they reached the horses' bellies. Ahead of them was a dense and dark forest that betrayed no sign of human activity.

All of a sudden, the condors screeched in anger. They plunged straight down from on high and vanished into the trees.

Knowing that something must have provoked the birds, Guo Jing and Lotus spurred their mounts into the woods. Soon, they found the raptors wheeling aggressively over a man who was trying to ward them off with a steel saber. Lotus was first to recognize him. Elder Peng, the disgraced Beggar Clan member! They had not expected to chance upon him here, of all places.

He was hacking viciously at the air with the blade, but the birds were not deterred. The female condor dived, snatched up Peng's headscarf with her talons and pecked at the crown of his head. Peng swung his weapon again, and a cloud of white feathers rained down on him.

The hairless patch on his head reminded Lotus of the bloody scalp torn off by the female condor after the wreck at Blue Dragon Shoal. She remembered the wound to the condor's breast, which they had found when the two birds returned to Uncle Sole Light's mountain sanctuary from Peach Blossom Island. Perhaps Elder Peng fired the arrow? That would explain their hostility toward him.

"Hey! Look over here!" she cried.

The sudden appearance of the Beggar Clan Chief sent Elder Peng's quaking spirits beyond the highest heavens. He turned and bolted. The male condor swooped down and pecked at his head. Peng swung the saber into the air to protect himself. Spotting that he had left his flank undefended, the female condor flew in from the side and struck his left eye with her beak.

Peng shrieked, tossed his blade aside and dived into a bush. He crawled deep into the spiky shrubbery, caring little for his torn skin so long as the thorns kept the birds at bay. The condors circled overhead, refusing to let him out of their sight.

Guo Jing whistled a command, calling the birds off. "Let him be. He's blind in one eye." Then he heard a mewling sound coming from a thicket behind him. He dismounted and waded through the undergrowth. A baby was lying on its back on the ground, and, next to it, a pair of feet were poking out from the bushes. He parted the vegetation to find an unconscious young woman, her wrists and ankles bound.

"Mercy!" Lotus helped her friend into a sitting position and cut the ropes restraining her. Then she massaged Mercy's acupoints and pressed a finger to her philtrum to bring her around.

Guo Jing, meanwhile, had plucked up the child. The infant gazed at him with bright eyes, not at all afraid of the stranger.

Mercy gradually came to and tried to focus on the concerned faces before her. "Big Brother Guo … Sister Huang…?" A distinct tremor in her feeble voice.

"Sister Mu, why are you here? Are you hurt?" Guo Jing asked.

Realizing she was not dreaming, Mercy pushed herself up higher and reached out for her babe. Holding him close, she collected herself and began to recount all that had happened to her since they had last seen each other in Peach Spring.

Mercy had already told the story of how she had lost her honor to Yang Kang in a moment of weakness on Iron Palm Mountain. Not long after they had parted, she discovered that she was with child, and her only wish at that moment was to return to Ox Village in Lin'an. She attempted the journey alone, dragging her increasingly cumbersome body thousands of li east from Hunan, all the way to the outskirts of Changxing, where she found she could go no farther. Taking shelter in an abandoned forester's hut, she gave birth to her son. She had no desire to mix with other people, so she lived off the land, hunting and foraging for sustenance. Fortunately, the baby was healthy and well behaved. He gave her great comfort and brought joy into her otherwise lonely and miserable existence.

She had been gathering firewood, just now, when she came across Elder Peng. He was taken by her looks and tried to force himself upon her. She fought back, but, though her kung fu was advanced enough to keep her safe in most situations, it was of little use against Peng. After all, he had once been one of the Four Elders of the Beggar Clan, and his martial skills were considerable, on a par with those of Surefoot Lu and Elder Jian. On top of that, he was a master of the dark art of mind entrapment, capable of controlling another simply by staring into their eyes.

The last thing Mercy remembered was being overpowered and tied up, before she passed out from fear and fury at the horrors that she was about to endure. It was fortuitous that Guo Jing and Lotus happened to be in the area, and that Peng had somehow drawn the ire of the condors, otherwise she would not have been able to escape the ordeal.

Guo Jing and Lotus spent that night in Mercy's hut. When Lotus mentioned what had happened to Yang Kang, Mercy's tears fell like rain. Her reaction was testament to the deep affection she still had for the faithless Prince, and Lotus decided to withhold from her the whole truth. She dreaded to think how Mercy would feel if she knew that Yang Kang had remained loyal to the Jin Empire to the bitter end and never stopped thinking of Wanyan Honglie as his father, or that he had played a part in the murder of five of Guo Jing's shifus.

And so Lotus just told her that Yang Kang had been poisoned by Viper Ouyang at Iron Spear Temple in Jiaxing. When she uttered those words, a voice cried inside her: I'm not lying, it was the Venom's poison that killed him … She could not bring herself to admit that he had come into contact with such a lethal substance only because of her—for she had revealed his crimes, including the killing of Gallant Ouyang, and, when he had tried to silence her, he had struck a part of the Hedgehog Chainmail that was tainted by the toxin.

The child's features reminded Guo Jing of Yang Kang, and he sighed as he recalled his failure to live up to the pledge of brotherhood he had made with the infant's father.

"Brother Guo, may I ask you to name my boy?" Mercy said, drying her tears.

Guo Jing considered her request. "His father and I swore we would be brothers," he said at last, "but things did not turn out as we had hoped, in part because I did not fulfill my duty as a friend. This is my deepest regret. I hope this child, when he grows up, will make good his father's mistakes, and act with compassion and integrity. Lotus, I'm not good with words—help me, please?"

Lotus turned to Mercy to see what she thought of this idea.

"Sister, please give my child a name that will express what Brother Guo has said."

A moment later, Lotus said, "What if his given name was Penance, and his courtesy name Amend, as a reminder to repent and change his ways when he errs?"

"Thank you. I pray he will live up to your hopes for him."

Lotus invited Mercy to come with them to Peach Blossom Island, while Guo Jing suggested that he take little Penance on as his disciple, so the boy could learn kung fu.

Mercy was moved by their offers, and she knew that Guo Jing and Lotus truly meant well, but being in their presence never failed to shine a light on her own misfortunes and solitude, bringing a dull ache to her heart and making it hard for her to accept their kindness.

She tried to smile. "My boy is blessed to have Brother Guo for his shifu. Please accept our obeisance." With baby Penance in her arms, she kowtowed to Guo Jing. "He is still too young to travel, but, one day, he shall present himself to his shifu and shimu."

The next morning, Guo Jing and Lotus once more asked Mercy to join them on their journey, but she insisted that she would make her own way back to her village in Lin'an. Before they left the hut, Guo Jing took out the gold ingots Tolui had given him and pressed most of them onto her.

Thanking him for his generosity, Mercy then accompanied the young couple as far as the edge of the forest. "I will take Penance to Iron Spear Temple," she said as they parted, "so he can visit his father's grave."

5

One night, after Lotus had made them supper in their guest house, Guo Jing fell into a particularly somber mood. His mind kept straying back to Khojin's letter, which he carried in his inside shirt pocket, and to his childhood with Tolui and Khojin, filling him with nostalgia for all the games they had played on the Mongolian steppe. He had never had romantic feelings for the young woman, but he could not shake a lingering sense of guilt. After all, he was the reason she was spending the best years of her youth in a self-imposed exile in the far west, away from all that she had known and loved, and with only her brother Jochi for company.

The thought of the inevitable Mongol invasion dragged Guo Jing's spirits down even further. Hundreds of thousands of common people would suffer the brutality of war because the Song Emperor was unworldly, his officials incapable, his soldiers and generals corrupt and unwarlike. The Song had no hope of holding back Genghis Khan's riders, and, if he informed the court of the invasion, they would likely surrender without putting up even a show of a fight.

Lotus sat quietly beside Guo Jing, mending clothes by lamplight, and left him to his brooding.

"What do you think Khojin meant by this?" Guo Jing said, out of the blue. He read from her letter: "'I have been the cause of your mother's tragic end, and I am too ashamed to see you again.'"

"Well, it was her father who…" Lotus's voice trailed off.

Guo Jing's only response was a guttural Mm. He was running through the events of that terrible day in his head. Suddenly, he leaped to his feet, striking the table. "It all makes sense now!"

His abrupt movement made Lotus jump and she pricked herself with the sewing needle. A bead of blood formed on her fingertip. "What do you mean?"

"Mother and I were alone in the ger when we unpicked the Great Khan's silk pouch and made the decision to go home. I never understood how Genghis Khan discovered our plans. Now I do—it was Khojin!"

"Why would she do that? Wasn't she devoted to you?"

"She wanted to make me stay. She must have seen us picking apart the silk pouch and packing our things. So, she told her father, thinking he would find some way to convince me not to leave. She had no idea that we were committing a capital crime…" He heaved a weary sigh.

"Why don't you go and find her?"

"Why would I want to do that? I only ever cared for her as my little sister."

Satisfied with his answer, Lotus gave Guo Jing a sweet smile.

THE NEXT morning, Guo Jing and Lotus headed south, with the intention of stopping in Huzhou for the night. They stayed in the city's grandest inn, the Merchant's Guesthouse, and, at dusk, they joined the other guests in the dining hall for supper. At the table next to theirs were seven or eight men who spoke with Shandong accents, sharing tales of the Qingzhou Patriotic Army's struggle against the Jin. Guo Jing was fascinated by their conversation, and called for five jin of wine and eight dishes to be sent to their table, so he could approach the men to find out more.

It turned out they were silk merchants from Qingzhou who had fled south to avoid the chaos of war. They had come to the Two Zhes because they knew the area well, having traveled there frequently to conduct business. Impressed by the generous spread of food that appeared on their table, and by Guo Jing's courteous manners, they told the young man all they knew about the situation in their hometown.

Qingzhou, in Yidu prefecture, was an important city in Shandong. The Jurchens' hold on the region had been weakened by the defeats they had suffered at the hands of the Mongolians, and the local Han population had seized the opportunity to rise against them, taking back a sizeable swathe of land. They had called themselves the Patriotic Army, naming Li Quan from Weizhou as their leader.

Li Quan and his wife, Yang Miaozhen, were both formidable warriors. She was known as Pear Blossom Spear, and there was a local saying that described her prowess: "For twenty years unmatched under the heavens." Li Quan's older brother, Li Fu, was also a renowned fighter. The Jin troops sent to face them were routed, scattering like fallen petals flushed by spring torrents. Patriots traveled from all over Shandong to pledge their allegiance, and the group's reputation spread far and wide.

The Patriotic Army secured a string of decisive victories, forcing the Jin armies in Huainan and Shandong to withdraw to the west. The last time the Song people had enjoyed success on this scale against the Jurchens was more than a century ago, in the days of Generals Yue Fei, Liu Qi and Yu Yunwen.

The Imperial Court at Lin'an was thrilled. Chancellor Shi Miyuan named Li Quan Commander-in-Chief of Jingdong. Although the territory was still under the Jin's jurisdiction, the Song Empire continued to appoint an official to govern the region—in name only. The Song now had an army north of the Yangtze, headquartered in Chuzhou, and its presence was invigorating news for those subjects in the Jin-annexed regions nearby who had remained loyal.

Though it received official recognition, as well as funds and grain from court, the Patriotic Army was not trusted by those in power. After Li Quan quelled a Jin incursion south of the River Huai, threatening the Song's heartlands along the Yangtze, he was rewarded with two grand titles: Military Commissioner of the Peace Preserving Army and Deputy Commissioner of Frontier Appeasement at Jingdong. But, at the same time, General Xu Guo was appointed Military Commissioner of East Huai, with power over Li Quan and orders to keep the upstarts under control.

Xu Guo had won battles against the Jin at the border strongholds of Xiangyang and Zaoyang, but as a commander he was rude and prejudiced. Each time the Patriotic Army fought alongside the Song Empire's regular army, Xu Guo would favor his own soldiers and mete out harsh punishments to Li's men.

Ultimately, this sealed his fate. During a battle with Mongolian riders who had come to claim Jin territory around Qingzhou, the rear guard of the Patriotic Army mutinied while Li Quan was leading from the front. They killed Xu Guo's entire family and forced the General to commit suicide.

LOTUS WAS intrigued by the tales told by the Qingzhou merchants. "Guo Jing, I'd like to see for myself how unmatched this Pear Blossom Spear really is."

"Yes! And we should help them reclaim more of our land from the Jin."

Guo Jing and Lotus altered their travel plans there and then, and headed north for Shandong the next morning. When they arrived in Qingzhou, they sought an audience with the formidable couple to offer their assistance in repelling the Song's enemies.

Having been a court official for some time now, Li Quan had acquired a haughty manner, putting too much store by his own importance. He did not want to waste his time exchanging pleasantries with a simple youth and a pretty girl who did not seem to have anything concrete to offer. He brushed them off with perfunctory words of thanks and a vague promise that he would summon them if he had trouble holding back the enemy.

Li Quan sent for food and wine for his guests, then turned away to attend to army business at the dining table. For weeks now, he had been plagued by conflicts between elements of his Patriotic Army and the Song court's regular troops. He issued orders for the arrest of the soldiers who had clashed with men of the Patriotic Army and the expulsion of those who were occupying the treasure house.

Guo Jing and Lotus were disappointed that the warrior they had heard so much about was turning out to be a terrible leader. His first priority had not been the city's defenses, but petty punishments against those who disagreed with his subordinates. It was clear that the guardians of this city were not a united front. They were even more alarmed when they witnessed the offhand way Li Quan treated information about enemy movements in the region.

"How many men? Mongols or Jurchens? Not the Mongols? Can't be. Where's their vanguard now?"

The answer was given in similar broad strokes, to the extent that it was impossible to tell if the scout's report was genuine or made up. The exchange ruined Guo Jing and Lotus's appetite. After a quiet discussion, they took their leave, and Lotus set off on Ulaan for a quick reconnaissance of the surrounding area.

At sundown, Guo Jing waited outside the north gate for her return. He rushed forward when he saw a cloud of dust rising from the horizon—Ulaan was galloping at full speed. Lotus tugged at the reins the moment she spotted Guo Jing.

"Mongolians, at least a hundred thousand." Her face was pale, her voice strained with tension. "How can we resist them?"

"That many?" Guo Jing bowed to Lotus. "You must have a plan, my strategist."

Lotus shook her head. "I've been thinking this over since Samarkand. In single combat, no more than two or three people under the heavens can match you. We don't have much to worry about in a fight against a few dozen men, maybe even a hundred. But, with tens of thousands out there, what can the two of us do to make a difference?"

"The Song Empire has enough subjects and soldiers to resist the Mongolians. If we were of one heart, we'd have nothing to fear. But the traitors at court are cowardly and corrupt. Every decision they make is a disaster for the people and the country. And the so-called Patriotic Army busy themselves with infighting, when our true enemies are almost at the city gates!"

"Well, we'll just have to kill as many Mongolians as we can. If the worst happens, we can ride away on Ulaan … We can't burden ourselves with all the worries of the world."

"That's not right, Lotus. We've studied General Yue Fei's The Secret to Defeating the Jin, and we should follow his example and repay our country with loyalty. He gave our people a taste of victory, and we can use his methods to defeat the Mongolians. Even if nothing comes of it, we should do everything in our power to help. If we die on the battlefield, we will have lived up to the principles our parents and shifus instilled in us."

"I knew this day would come eventually. Very well! Live together, die together!"

Now that they had confirmed their resolve to defend their country at all costs, Guo Jing and Lotus felt more at ease. They headed back into the city, found an inn and drank as they discussed the coming invasion and the prospect of separation in life and in death, their hearts closer than ever before.

At the second watch of the night, their conversation was interrupted by heart-rending wails from beyond the city walls.

"They're here!" Lotus cried.

The young couple hurried to position themselves on the battlements of the north gate. Streams of refugees—men and women, young and old—were making for the city.

Faced with endless skirmishes between different factions of the Song military, many of Qingzhou's residents had chosen to camp in the wilderness surrounding the city, but, now that the Mongols were here, they had no choice but to seek safety within the city walls.

An officer rode up to the north gate and ordered the guards to make sure it remained shut and barred—under no circumstances should they allow anyone inside. Moments later, a company of archers manned the ramparts at Li Quan's command. Arrows nocked, bows drawn, they took aim at their fellow countrymen, shouting at them to get back.

"The Mongols are here!" Screams and shouts filled the air, but the north gate remained shut.

From their elevated vantage point, Guo Jing and Lotus could just about make out the faint glow of a fiery dragon slithering in their direction through the dark of the night.

The Mongolian vanguard.

Guo Jing knew from experience that Genghis Khan's army would be with them by dawn. And he was well acquainted with the conqueror's siege craft—he would send prisoners to scale the walls ahead of his warriors. But what really troubled the young man was the prospect of a first wave of bloodshed before the Mongols even arrived. The blood of the people of Qingzhou—those outside the walls pitted against those inside for a chance to be protected by the city's fortifications.

Now was the moment to act. Guo Jing waved his arms for attention and projected his voice: "If Qingzhou falls, we all die. If you're a real man, join me and fight!" He jumped from the ramparts to find a way to force open the gates.

"Arrest him!" the officer shouted, upon hearing Guo Jing's call to arms, for he was a loyal follower of Li Quan. Before any of his men could carry out his orders, Guo Jing grabbed him by the front of his robe, dragged him out of the saddle and mounted his warhorse.

"Open the gate!" he demanded, towering over the officer.

The bulk of the Patriotic Army rank and file had joined up because they believed in retaking lost Song land, and they were repulsed by the idea of keeping their fellow countrymen out. After all, many had friends and family in the crush beyond the walls, and it was impossible to remain unmoved by their despairing cries. Not a single soldier gave any thought to rescuing their leader.

Fearful for his life, the officer relented. The gates were flung open and the refugees poured in like a swelling tide.

Guo Jing grabbed a spear and placed the officer under Lotus's watch, ready to ride out to intercept the enemy.

"Wait!" Lotus stopped him. She made their captive strip off his armor, then strapped it onto Guo Jing herself, taking the chance to whisper in his ear: "Say you have an imperial mandate to lead the army out." She then flicked the officer's pressure points to lock his movements and left him at the foot of the ramparts.

"I was sent by His Majesty the Song Emperor to defend this city and its people. Fight with me!" Guo Jing cried, amplifying his voice with qi from the Elixir Field. His words cut through the din, loud and clear. For a moment, the people of Qingzhou fell silent, then they erupted in cheers. No one had time to consider whether or not he was telling the truth, for their enemies would be upon them in a matter of hours. Moreover, with clashes between the Patriotic Army and the regular army a daily occurrence, the soldiers were used to conflicting orders. They were not going to question a leader that gave them hope.

Guo Jing mustered six or seven thousand volunteers, but even the soldiers among them were disorganized and ill-trained. How could this ragtag band possibly stand against elite Mongol riders?

A sudden situation calls for surprise, an army in danger calls for deceit.

With this maxim from The Secret to Defeating the Jin in mind, Guo Jing sent three thousand men to conceal themselves behind a hill to the east. He ordered them to wave their standards and shout at the top of their voices when the cannons fired to give the signal—but to make certain that only the banners were visible. A similar battalion was sent with orders to do the same behind the hill on the west when the cannons sounded for a second time. He then gave detailed instructions to the artillery teams. Reassured by confident and clear commands, the unit captains took their men to their positions.

When first light came, it was heralded by the beating of drums and the calls of a thousand bugles, soon followed by a dust storm kicked up by countless galloping horses. The Mongols had arrived.

By now, all the refugees had entered the city. Lotus rode up to Guo Jing, armed with a spear, in time to hear him issue his final command before the battle began: "Keep all four gates open! Everyone must remain inside. If anyone is caught disobeying this order, off with their head!"

The jingle of horse bells announced the arrival of Li Quan and Yang Miaozhen. Li, clad in full armor, carried a saber, while Yang held her Pear Blossom Spear. The burnished spear point glittered in the sunlight. She looked every inch the warrior of legend that had first captured Lotus's imagination.

When the first unit of Mongol riders charged toward Qingzhou, they were surprised to find that the city gates had been thrown open. Stranger still, their approach was barred not by a waiting army, but by two teenagers standing side by side, their only support, a middle-aged couple. The commander of the thousand-strong detachment halted his men and sent his fastest rider to report this unexpected situation to his superior.

Hearing the news, the divisional general rode to the frontline to see for himself, and immediately recognized Guo Jing among those standing outside the walls. He had admired the clever strategies deployed by the young commander when taking cities on the road to Samarkand, culminating in the fearless descent into the capital itself, and he knew the youth had never lost a battle.

The veteran soldier studied the view that the open gates offered him into the city, eyeing the empty streets of Qingzhou with caution, then cupped his hands in greeting. "Prince of the Golden Blade."

Guo Jing returned the salute, but did not speak.

The Mongolian wheeled his horse around and hurried back to inform the general in overall command of the campaign. An hour or so later, a yak's-tail banner came into view, carried by an elite mounted unit in fine iron armor.

It was Tolui, the fourth son of Genghis Khan.

"Guo Jing, anda!"

"Brother Tolui!"

In the past, the sworn brothers would have leaped from their saddles and folded their arms around each other in a warm embrace, but now they pulled their horses to a stop when they were still five zhang apart.

"Anda, you have come to invade my homeland," Guo Jing stated dispassionately.

Tolui tried to explain. "I am here under Father's orders. I do not have a choice. Please forgive me."

Guo Jing scanned the horizon. Flags swirled like clouds, sabers sparkled like fresh snow. If they charge at us now, we'll all die here today. He fixed his gaze on Tolui once more. "Very well. Come and take my life."

The Mongolian Prince was taken aback by Guo Jing's tone. I cannot match his talent on the battlefield, he told himself. And our ties are as close as ties of flesh and blood. Am I really supposed to destroy such a bond?

Watching from afar, Li Quan and Yang Miaozhen were stunned to see their visitor conversing with the Mongol commander. They did not know what to make of it. Lotus, meanwhile, gave the signal for the cannons to fire from the city walls.

Boom! War cries erupted from the hill to the east.

All color drained from Tolui's face.

The cannons sounded again. Banners were raised above the slopes to the west.

We're surrounded! Tolui realized with horror. He knew that there were only several thousand fighting men in Qingzhou, and, under normal circumstances, they would represent no threat at all, but, with Guo Jing on their side, he could not afford to be careless. He bid his anda farewell and gave the order for the army to retreat and set up camp thirty li from the city.

With Tolui gone, Lotus allowed herself a smile at his expense. "Congratulations! You've tricked them with an empty city."

Her words did nothing to dispel the grim look on Guo Jing's face. He knew it was a hollow victory. "Tolui is patient and determined. He'll be back tomorrow. What do we do then?"

"There is one way … but, you're sworn brothers. You may not wish to…"

"… You want me to assassinate him?"

"He is Genghis Khan's youngest son and also his favorite. His status is far above that of an ordinary general. If the Fourth Prince dies, the army will withdraw."

Guo Jing did not know how to respond. He rode back into the city with his head bowed.

Awed by the exchange they had just witnessed, and by the way Guo Jing had sent an army into retreat single-handedly, Li Quan and Yang Miaozhen invited the young couple back to their residence to celebrate.

Guo Jing was in low spirits. He insisted that the Mongolians would return the next day and asked Li about his plans for defending the city.

"You are good friends with the Mongolian commander," the Patriotic Army General ventured. "Perhaps you can agree terms for laying down our arms to save the city."

"Pah!" Guo Jing spat. "If you want to surrender, negotiate your own terms, but you won't save a single life that way."

Embarrassed, Li Quan and Yang Miaozhen made their excuses and withdrew from the feast.

Guo Jing was all too familiar with the Mongolian attitude toward those who yielded—mercy did not come into it. As dusk fell, his ears seemed to become more sensitive to the sobs and wails that could be heard throughout the city. He could already see the brutal fate awaiting its people. Qingzhou's streets would be awash with blood, every living soul inside its walls butchered.

The massacre of Samarkand came back to him, turning his stomach, and he struck the dining table. "Ancient heroes sacrificed their kin to safeguard their principles. I can give up one friendship to save a city."

6

Changing into black clothes to blend into the night, Guo Jing and Lotus rode north for the Mongolian camp. They tethered their horses a few li short of it and made the final approach on foot. At the perimeter of the camp, they captured two sentries, locked their acupoints and stripped them of their armor. Thus disguised, it did not take them long to reach Tolui's ger, since Guo Jing knew the habits of the Mongol army inside out.

It was now completely dark. Guo Jing and Lotus crept up to the sizeable tent and peered through a gap in the felt.

Tolui was pacing around in a state of restless agitation, muttering: "Guo Jing, anda…"

Lotus clamped her hand over Guo Jing's mouth just as he parted his lips to speak. Only then did the youth realize his mistake—Tolui was talking to himself!

"A true man is resolute. Get it done," Lotus urged him under her breath.

Just then, they heard pounding hooves approaching. The rider dismounted just a few feet from the entrance to the ger. Guo Jing knew only messengers bearing the most urgent dispatch would remain in the saddle all the way up to a commander's tent.

"Let's hear the news first," he said.

A herald clad in yellow prostrated himself before Tolui. "Fourth Prince, I have orders from the Great Khan."

"Speak."

Rising to his knees, the herald presented Tolui with a roll of parchment, then began to chant. Though the Mongolian script was widely used in Genghis Khan's court, the conqueror himself could neither read nor write, so his edicts and messages were often passed on verbally as well as in writing. With more complex matters like military orders, the words were arranged into songs to make them easier to commit to memory, and the messengers were tested again and again before they set off, to ensure accurate delivery.

Only three lines had been sung, and Tolui was already in tears. Guo Jing also felt his heart skip a beat. Genghis Khan had fallen ill after the successful conquest of Tangut, and his health had failed to improve in the weeks that followed. He was asking Tolui to return by the swiftest horse.

The message ended thus:

I have missed Guo Jing greatly. If you discover his whereabouts in the South, you must entreat him to come north to bid me a final farewell. All his offenses are forgiven.

Guo Jing cut the ger open with his dagger and stepped inside. "I'll come with you, anda."

Tolui was startled by the intrusion, but, when he realized it was Guo Jing, he hurried over to give his sworn brother a hug.

The messenger kowtowed before Guo Jing. "Prince of the Golden Blade, the Great Khan speaks of you every day. Please, visit him in the golden ger."

Hearing himself addressed by his former title, Guo Jing was reminded of all the misunderstandings that had blighted his relationship with Lotus. He ducked out through the gap he had made, took her hand and led her into the ger. "We'll go together and we'll come back together."

TOLUI ORDERED the retreat that night, and the army set off the following morning. Guo Jing and Lotus traveled side by side, as the two condors wheeled overhead.

"Li Quan is weak," Guo Jing said with a sigh. "What fire he had in him has gone out. He will surrender when the Mongolians return." His prediction was proved accurate when Qingzhou was besieged again, some months later.

Worried that he would not make it in time to see his father, Tolui entrusted the army's return to his deputy, and gathered the swiftest horses to race back with Guo Jing and Lotus. The three of them reached Genghis Khan's camp in Tangut in less than a month. The Prince was relieved to see the nine-tail banner hoisted high over the golden ger. The Great Khan was still alive.

Tolui dismounted by the entrance to the tent and rushed inside. Guo Jing reined in his horse some distance away. He was deeply conflicted about seeing Genghis Khan again. The man had raised him like his own son, recognized his talent and given him opportunities, but he had also driven his mother to suicide in pursuit of his limitless ambitions and put whole cities to the sword to soothe his injured pride. Guo Jing felt both love and disgust for the conqueror, and the weight of these opposing emotions weighed heavy upon him.

A fanfare dragged him back to the present. A company of archer-bodyguards lined up in two rows before the golden ger. Wrapped in black sable, Genghis Khan emerged, holding on to Tolui for support. His stride was as long and bold as before, but it was plain for all to see that he was no longer steady on his feet.

Guo Jing dismounted and prostrated himself before the great warrior.

Hot tears streamed down Genghis Khan's face. "Get up! Get up!" he said with a tremor in his voice. "You're back, Guo Jing, my boy. You've both come back. This is excellent! I have thought of you every day," he added, patting Tolui on the shoulder.

Guo Jing rose to his feet and met the Great Khan's gaze. He was shocked to see the change in him. The conqueror's hair was now completely white, his face marred by deep grooves of wrinkles, his cheeks sallow and sunken. It was clear that he had little time left, and much of Guo Jing's resentment drained away.

Genghis Khan put his free hand on Guo Jing's shoulder and looked back and forth between him and Tolui. Then he heaved a sigh and gazed into the distance, lost in thought. The young men remained silent, not wishing to interrupt his reverie.

At length, Genghis Khan breathed a heavy sigh and began to speak. "When Jamuka and I first declared ourselves anda, how could I have known that I would have to kill him myself? In a few days' time, I will join him, returning to the yellow earth … Who has won? Who has lost? What difference does it make, in the end?" He squeezed both young men on the shoulder. "You two must always stay on good terms. Do not turn against each other. If you don't wish to marry Khojin, Guo Jing, you don't have to. You are Han, you will never be Mongolian. This is something I have come to understand of late. We may be of different tribes, but we must still remain on good terms—until death—like a family. When my anda Jamuka died, our feud was over for him, but not for me—whenever I think of our broken pledge of brotherhood, I am kept awake all night."

Tolui and Guo Jing thought of their recent confrontation before the walls of Qingzhou. Neither was proud of that encounter.

Genghis Khan had not been standing long, but he already felt drained of all strength. As he was preparing to go inside, they caught sight of a knot of riders heading for the golden ger. The man leading the group wore a white robe fastened with a gold belt, in the style of the Jin Empire's court dress. The sight of a rival emissary energized the aged Khan somewhat.

The man dismounted, hurried toward the golden ger and prostrated himself some distance away, clearly afraid to come any closer. "The ambassador of the Jin Empire begs an audience with the Great Khan."

"The Jin refuse to yield. Why have they sent you?" Genghis Khan said haughtily.

"Our humble state has offended the celestial might of the Great Khan, and we deserve to die ten thousand deaths for this transgression. We have come to present a gift of one thousand pearls, passed down from our ancestors, in the hope that the Great Khan will show mercy. They are the most important treasures of our state, and we beg the Great Khan to accept them."

The emissary rose to his knees. He produced a bundle from his knapsack and unwrapped it to reveal a jade plate, onto which he emptied a pouch of glittering pearls. Still kneeling, he shuffled forward and he offered them up to the conqueror with both hands.

Genghis Khan cast a glance from the corner of his eye. The pearls were perfectly round, and each was roughly the size of the tip of his little finger. To find one such specimen would be hard enough, and yet in their midst was a single mother pearl, many times larger than the rest. Together, they gave off a soft, warm glow, casting a rainbow halo over the jade plate.

Not long ago, Genghis Khan would have been pleased by such a gift, but now he just frowned.

He jerked his head toward one of his personal guards, ordering the soldier to take the plate.

The ambassador could not hide his delight. "Every man in our humble state would be forever grateful if the Great Khan were to accept our peace offering."

"Who says I'm accepting anything? I will send an army to crush your Jin Empire this very instant. Seize him. Now!"

The guards rushed over to restrain the messenger.

"A thousand pearls cannot give me even one more day on this earth." Sighing, Genghis Khan took the jade plate from the guard and hurled it to the ground. It shattered, sending pearls rolling in every direction.

A good portion of them were picked up by soldiers in the days to follow, but many remained hidden among the long grass. Herdsmen were said to continue to find pearls on this site for hundreds of years thereafter.

GENGHIS KHAN returned to his golden ger in low spirits. At dusk, he sent for Guo Jing and took him riding in the open country. They had been in the saddle for more than ten li when the sound of raptors cawing in the skies above reached their ears. Guo Jing's white condors were soaring overhead.

Genghis Khan unslung his iron bow, nocked an arrow and fired.

"No!" Guo Jing cried, but it was too late. The bolt was already shooting toward the female condor. He knew she would not escape with her life—the conqueror was known for his aim and the strength of his arm. But, at the moment of impact, the bird simply veered to one side and knocked the arrow off course with her wing. Her mate screeched in fury and dived at Genghis Khan.

"Shoo!" Guo Jing lashed at the bird with his whip.

Sensing the urgency of his master's command, the condor aborted his attack. He beat his wings, crowed with displeasure, and flew off with his female companion.

Gloom shrouded Genghis Khan. He might have retained some of his agility, but his strength had waned. He cast his bow and quiver to the ground. "Never have I failed to bring down a condor. My time must be up."

Guo Jing wanted to say something to console him, but no words came to mind. The Great Khan spurred away, heading north. Fearing for the aged warrior's well-being, Guo Jing urged Ulaan to follow him. They caught up with Genghis Khan in the blink of an eye, as though they had been soaring on the wind.

Genghis Khan slowed his mount to a trot, halted and looked around him. "This vast Empire I have built is unrivaled throughout history. From the heart of our kingdom, you can ride in any direction—east, south, west, north—and it will take a whole year to reach the border, even with the fastest horses. Tell me, of all the heroes past and present, who has come close to what I've achieved?"

Guo Jing considered how he should respond. "No one since time began has come close to the Great Khan's military prowess, but your might—the might of just one man—was built upon a mountain of white bones and a sea of widows' and orphans' tears."

Genghis Khan's face darkened with rage and he raised his whip, ready to strike Guo Jing, but the young man did not flinch, staring defiantly back at him instead. The whip faltered in the air and the blow never fell.

"What do you mean?"

Guo Jing knew it was dangerous to provoke the conqueror, but he told himself he had little to lose. It's not likely I'll see him again after this trip. I should tell him plainly what I think.

"Great Khan, you have treated me as your kin, cared for me and given me rank and riches, and I have also honored you as family, respected you, loved you. I'd like to ask you one question: when we die and return to the earth, how much space do we take up?"

"About this much." Genghis Khan swirled his whip around to demonstrate.

"In that case, what is the point of occupying so much land, killing so many people and sowing so much misery?" Genghis Khan had no answer for that, so Guo Jing went on. "Since times of old, heroes were looked up to while they lived and admired by those that came after them because they did good deeds for the people and fought to protect them. As I see it, having blood on one's hands does not make one a hero."

"Are you saying that I will be forgotten? That I have lived a life unworthy?"

"No one can deny that you have done great things. You persuaded the Mongolians to stop fighting among themselves. People of a hundred different states and tribes now live in peace under your rule, and each of them owes you a debt of gratitude. But, wherever you rode on your conquests, you left a pile of corpses as high as any mountain. Do your achievements outweigh your sins? Do they justify all the blood that has been shed? That is much harder to answer."

Genghis Khan was a proud man, and, because of the power he wielded, it had been decades since anyone had dared to present him with the brutal truth in such a forthright manner. He found it impossible to argue with what Guo Jing was saying. He felt as though he had been galloping at speed and had tugged at the reins to bring his mount to a sudden halt, and, as he looked back at the trail of dust in his wake, he had no idea where he had come from, where he was going or why he was even there. A choking, gurgling sound rose in his throat. Blood sprayed from his lips, staining the ground.

Guo Jing could see how hard his words had hit the dying man, and he reached out to steady him. "Great Khan, let's turn back. You need rest. Pardon me for speaking out of turn."

Genghis Khan gave the young man a faint smile, his complexion a waxy yellow. "No one around me is as bold as you. They dare not give me the honest truth." His face then lit up with all the stubborn pride of a great warrior. "I have seen every land under the heavens during my lifetime and conquered more kingdoms than I can name, and yet, to you, I am no hero. Huh! That is truly the talk of a child!" And, with a crack of his whip, he galloped away.

That night, Genghis Khan breathed his last in the golden ger. As he lay dying, he was heard to murmur, "Hero … hero…"

Perhaps he was pondering Guo Jing's words.

Once Guo Jing and Lotus had paid their respects to the Great Khan's body, they bid Tolui farewell and returned to the Central Plains. On their way south, they came across skulls and bones scattered among the tall grass, as they passed through lands laid waste through war, and, each time, they sighed and told themselves they were lucky to have each other. But they could not help but ask when the common people would enjoy true peace and at last be free of the evils of this world.

Embers in the flames of war,

Few homes left in villages poor.

No rush to cross the river at dawn,

The flawed moon sinks into cold sand.

THE END

Further deeds of Guo Jing, Lotus Huang and other martial masters of the wulin are told in The Return of the Condor Heroes.