Fox Volant of the Snowy Mountain by Jin Yong Page 18

  "Some initial inquiries soon confirmed that Uncle Gully was the real culprit in taking the lives of my grandfather and Uncle Pastoral's father. Even though father had held Uncle Gully in the great esteem befitting a hero fighter, he was pressed by a more urgent obligation to seek vengeance for his own father. My father would have hated to see the blood feud stemming from the animosity among the ancestors of the four families handed down to posterity. He sincerely hoped that he could wield some power in bringing this vendatta, more than a century old, to a conclusion. This certainly seemed right and wise when Uncle Gully proposed that they exchange their weapons in the ensuing combat. Should father emerge the victor, he would owe it to the Hu's Knife Techniques, and should Uncle Gully emerge the victor, he would owe it to the techniques of the Miao's Swordplay. Thus, defeat in the battle could be attributable only to individual fighters, with the reputation of both houses remaining untarnished.

  "Presently, Uncle Gully and father swapped their weapons. They were soon attacking each other. The battle which ensued differed drastically from the fighting on the previous four days. Though the two combatants were adept fighters, they were not yet completely at ease practising unfamiliar moves, wielding new weapons in their hands. In addition to that, each contestant already had complete mastery of the esoteric specialties of his School, and could therefore anticipate his enemy's every move as each originated from his house. It followed logically that it would prove extremely difficult for either to overpower his adversary, drawing only on what skills he had acquired from the other during the previous four days. My father held that the battle on the day in question was by far the most threatening. Uncle Gully might look a boorish fellow, yet he was rather gifted in parading the techniques of the Miao's Swordplay. It appeared as though he had spent several vigorous years perfecting these martial feats. Suffice it to say, one notable example was his recent test of strength with Whiz Shang, the famed courageous fighter of Shandong Province. In that daring encounter, he had unravelled the moves of the Eight Diagram Swordplay, unique to Whiz's house, by practising solely the martial skills unique to the Miao Family. My father was not as fully endowed as Uncle Gully was, but as luck had it, he was well-versed in the whole gamut of martial arts, being equally proficient in each of the eighteen martial accomplishments. Though he was a novice when it came to practising the Hu's Knife Techniques, his early training in single-edged weapons enabled him to enter the battle enjoying an advantage, and he managed to survive the combat.

  "The skirmish raged on feverishly. By noon, each duellist had resorted to parading the moves with ease and equanimity. Their movements became increasingly paced. Suddenly, Uncle Gully alerted his enemy, 'Brother Phoenix, you have followed through this move Shielding with a Sweeping Blade somewhat too soon, and with insufficient strength to sustain it.'

  "'The comments are much appreciated,' thanked my father. 'I thought I had timed my moves adequately.'

  "The two fighters were utterly absorbed in their struggle, offering each other constructive comments, when they deemed it fit, without reservation. After several hundred bouts of feverish and ferocious fighting, each warrior gradually acquired full mastery of the moves of his enemy.

  "Uncle Gully's mounting ability to attain perfection in wielding martial feats unique to the Miao's Swordplay began to fill my father with an acute uneasiness. He pondered to himself, 'Gully is more capable in mastering the sword than I am in commanding the knife. Whatever early training I received in wielding a knife will soon be of no use. I have to bring off another move quickly or I shall be very likely to suffer defeat.' In a moment, my father brought off the Seagull Skimming the Lake, intending first a defensive blow, followed by an instantaneous offensive stroke. But he suddenly resorted to an expedient and erratic move, smiting first with the offensive stroke, then with the defensive blow.

  "Uncle Gully was caught completely off-guard by this surprise move of father's.

  "'Wrong move!' blurted Uncle Gully.

  "'Watch out!' warned his enemy immediately.

  "Twirling his blade, my father likewise substituted the defensive blow with another expedient, offensive stroke. This strange move of his was his latest martial innovation, which owed its origin to one of the moves borrowed from the Hu's Knife Techniques. This newly-invented move was highly unusual, making it deceptively unpredictable. Had father's opponent been another accomplished fighter, he almost certainly could have avoided this uncanny and elusive stroke. Uncle Gully, being immaculately skilled at his own Hu's Knife Techniques, would least have expected father suddenly to change the move and design his own on the spur of the moment. Catching Uncle Gully by surprise, my father immediately brought his keen blade down across his victim's left arm, slashing it open.

  "All onlookers gasped in surprise. Suddenly, Uncle Gully flung out his leg, throwing father to the ground. My father was piqued at the paralytic point Imperial Gate at the waist. He fell to the floor in a flash, unable to regain his footing again.

  "Fan the Ringleader, Tian the Young Master and the others at once rushed forward. Uncle Gully thrust his sword to the floor. Afterwards, by elbowing and stretching his arms in turn, he succeeded in grappling and hurling every single person out of the hall. Presently, he raised my father up from the floor and began revivifying his piqued point, remarking with a laugh, 'Brother Phoenix, you are outstanding at improvising moves. But you forgot that each move in the Hu's Knife Techniques is unique, shrouding itself with an immediate next. When you attempted two consecutive offensive strokes, you inevitably opened yourself wide at the waist.'

  "My father was not able to utter a sound. Gnawed by excruciating pain at the waist, he appeared to be completely drained. He could hardly find the strength to speak. Uncle Gully then continued, 'If you had not been restraining yourself, I would already have had my left arm slashed off. I shall cease for today: we are still equals. Now, you return and take a good rest. Should we resume the duel tomorrow?'

  "Trying to control his pain, my father answered, 'Brother Gully, I admit that I was sparing in smiting blows. Even if I had hewed off your left arm, you could still have dealt me a fatal blow with your leg. Being such as you are, you could not possibly have brought yourself to launch a clandestine attack on my father. I simply wish to hear from your own lips how my father met his death?'

  "'Have I not made it clear to you?' asked Uncle Gully, with an expression of astonishment on his face. 'You refused to take my word for it, but insisted on challenging me to a duel. That being the case, I had no choice but to go all the way to meet the challenge, even if it meant losing my life.'

  "My father was taken aback by his words. He demanded, 'Have you already told me that? When was that?'

  "Uncle Gully looked back over his shoulder. Pointing his finger at someone, he said feebly, 'You ... you ...' He could go no further, when suddenly his knees failed him and he collapsed to the ground, falling at my father's feet. Stunned by this, my father immediately reached out his hand to help him up. Uncle Gully's face suddenly changed to a different colour. He cried out, 'Well, well, you ...' He dropped his head and then passed away.

  "My father was most distraught at Uncle Gully's parting words and his sudden death. He thought that, strong as Gully was, a slight gaping flesh on the arm could not possibly have cost him his life. My father flung himself frantically upon the corpse and cried aloud, 'Brother Gully! Brother Gully!' The dead body gradually turned purple in the face: undoubtedly a case of acute poisoning. My father at once ripped open Gully's sleeve and found his arm swollen to twice its size. Dark blood was oozing from the cut.

  "Uncle Gully's wife was stricken by grief and shock. All at once, she threw the baby from her arms. She picked up the single-edged weapon and examined it closely. My father had already determined that the edge had been dipped in poison. Finding my father pensive, Uncle Gully's wife turned to him, 'Phoenix the Knight-errant, this is a knife borrowed from your friend. Big Brother Gully certainly had no knowledge that its edge was smeare
d with poison. I presume you had no knowledge of that either, otherwise neither of you would have wielded such a deceptively vile weapon. As fate has it this way, no one is to blame. I promised Gully that I would raise the child by myself. The past five days convinced me that Phoenix the Knight-errant is a true acolyte of chivalry, high in principles and heroic in deeds. As you have promised to look after the boy for me, I shall simply treat myself to a rest and not endure the hardships of bringing up the child for the next twenty years.' At this, she slashed the blade across her throat. It was over in a minute.

  "This is precisely what my father told me about the circumstances surrounding Uncle Gully's death on the day in question. Master Tree's version, however, differs greatly from what I learned from my parent. Though the incident took place some twenty years ago, and one's memory may have failed in the intervening years, the facts, after all, should not differ so much. I simply do not understand," said Orchid.

  Tree let out a sigh. Shaking his head, he stated, "Your father was then utterly involved in the grappling, hence it may be possible that he was unable to have as clear a picture as the onlookers." Orchid simply acknowledged Tree's statement with a murmur. She lowered her head, refraining from further comment.

  Presently, a hoarse voice came from the side, "The two accounts differ because one person has been deliberately lying."

  Startled by this sudden interruption, the Company quickly turned their heads round. To their surprise, the interlocutor was the servant with a scar across his face.

  * * *

  Although Tree and Orchid felt offended by the servant's rude remark, since both were guests on the premises, they had to try momentarily to contain themselves. Curio, being the most churlish, broke out before anyone else, "Who is the one that has been lying?"

  The attendant, now afraid, said nervously, "I am merely a handyman at everyone's beck and call. How could I dare to explain these events?"

  Orchid joined in at this point, "If I have in any way misinformed the group, please tell me so." She delivered these words with the leisurely elegance and composed airs befitting a lady of good breeding and high culture.

  At length, the handyman attempted to volunteer more information: "I was present also at the time of the incident, bearing witness to the events just recounted by the Great Master and by Miss Miao. If the rest of you can tolerate my poor verbal gifts, I would also like to venture to give you my account of the events."

  Tree at once shouted, "Were you also there personally to witness the events? Who are you?"

  The servant offered him an answer, with an assured air, "I recognize the Great Master, and yet the Great Master fails to recognize me."

  Tree turned pale with anger and yelled at him, "Who the devil are you?"

  The attendant refused to give Tree an answer. He turned to Orchid instead and addressed her, "Madam, I fear that I may not be able to present the group with a whole picture."

  Orchid was puzzled and asked, "Why?"

  The man with a scar on the face replied, "I am afraid that it might cost me my life when I am but half-way through the story."

  Orchid turned to Tree and said to him, "Great Master, you assume overall charge here up on this mountain. As you are a celebrated veteran fighter, held in great esteem and spoken of with awe by the Martial Brotherhood, I am sure no one would dare to harm him if only you were to speak for him."

  "Miss Miao," responded Tree sneeringly, "are you taunting me with this?"

  The handyman interrupted at this point, "It matters little whether I survive or die, but what matters is that I may not be allowed time enough to make clear all I know."

  Orchid remained pensively silent for a short while. Then pointing to the wooden tablet hung on the left hand side of the calligraphic scrolls on the wall, she directed him, "Take that down, please." The handyman followed her instruction, not knowing what she intended to do with the plaque. He took it from the wall and placed it in front of her. Orchid hastened to assure him, "Read carefully what is written on it. My father's name is inscribed on this wooden tablet. Hold the plaque in your hands and speak up, drawing on all your courage. If anyone dares to touch so much of you as a single hair, he will be contracting the curse of my father."

  The Company present looked each other straight in the eyes, thinking to themselves, "Now that he has the Gilt-faced Buddha as talisman, who would dare raise a finger against him?"

  An expression of satisfaction was written on the face of the servant. He then affected a gentle smile. But the smile served only further to accentuate his already disfigured visage. He seemed to have been transformed by a magic aura to take on an eerie, otherworldly appearance. At length, he was seen holding the wooden plaque tightly in his hands.

  Tree reseated himself in the chair, gazing into space and searching his memory for the happenings of twenty-seven years before; but he failed to remember the identity of this man.

  Presently, Orchid told the man with the disfigured face, "Sit down here and tell me your story."

  The fellow replied, "I will remain on my feet while revealing the account. May I venture to ask the young lady what eventually happened to the bereaved child of Master Gully?"

  Orchid let out a faint sigh, saying, "My father was sorrow-stricken on finding both Uncle Gully and his wife dead. For quite a long while, he stared vacantly at their bodies, stunned with grief. Then he fell on his knees and performed eight full-blown kowtows, the most respectful salutations befitting an elder and a superior. Mournfully he addressed the deceased couple, 'Brother Gully and Sister Gully, please set your minds at rest. I shall test myself to the utmost to bring up your son.' Having finished the kowtows, my father turned around to look for the baby. Alas, the infant boy was nowhere to be found. Shocked at not finding the child, my father quickly made enquiries around the house. It seemed that everyone had been drawn to the death of the couple, with no one there to heed the child. My father immediately dispatched his retainers, ordering them to go in search of the boy, making all speed. Controlling the pain in his waist, he himself also conducted enquiries in the vicinity of the lodging-house. Suddenly to his ears came a child's wailing from behind the building: the baby was crying violently. My father at once dashed to the scene. But he was still in pain at the waist, from the hefty kick dealt by Uncle Gully. The minute he exerted himself, he fell to the ground, losing control of both legs.

  "By the time father reached the back of the house, supported by others, he found only a pool of blood and a tiny baby's cap. There was not a trace of the child.

  "There was a river running rapidly in front of the house; the blood dripped all the way to the bank. Most probably Master Gully's heir had been dealt a blow, dispatching him immediately. His body was then thrown into the stream and was swallowed by the rapid waters. Gripped by mixed feelings of fear and wrath, father presently summoned a group of people and interrogated them exhaustively. But he failed to pin down the culprit.

  "From that day, my father became deeply concerned about the outcome of the incident. He vowed to lay his hand on the creature who had murdered the child. One year, while he was refurbishing his blade, he told me he would put his sword to just one more person: the true culprit. I tried to persuade him that the child could have been saved by someone, and if such was the case, he might still be alive. Father hoped that it could be true, but deep down in his heart, he considered such chances impossible. Oh, the poor child. I sincerely hope that he is still alive. Once my father said to me, 'My child, I love you more than my own life. Yet if Heaven would allow me to trade you for Uncle Gully's son, I would rather see you dead and Uncle Gully's boy alive.'"

  The serving-man's eyes reddened: tears were collecting there. He said, in a choked voice, "Madam, I am sure Master Gully and Madam Gully, now living in the Kingdom of the Dead, would feel grateful for the heroic gestures of your father and of your goodself."

  All the while, the steward of the eyrie took the scar-marked man to be a servant whom Orchid had brought with her
on her expedition. But his appearance, manners and speech led him now to believe otherwise. The steward was about to clear up the uncertainty but, seeing that the entire Company was listening to his story with rapt attention, he found it wise not to interrupt.

  The man with the disfigured visage took up the story: "Twenty-seven years ago, I was a janitor who fuelled the stove and chopped firewood at the staging post in that small village in Cangzhou. In the winter of the year in question, my family was beset by calamity: my father had borrowed five taels of silver three years before from a rich landlord, Zhao. In the intervening time, with interest compounding and multiplying itself several fold, the debt had finally reached the monstrous sum of forty taels of silver. Lord Zhao had my father seized. He tried to coerce him into signing a concession to sell my mother into his possession as a concubine.

  "As my father staunchly refused to effect the vile transaction, he was savagely beaten up by the landlord's runners. After my father was finally released, he resolved things with mother. They arrived at the conclusion that the forty taels of silver would double in the following year. They despaired that they would ever be able to discharge their debt during the remaining days of their life. My parents wanted to cancel the debt by taking their own lives, and yet they could not bear the thought of abandoning me. So the three of us clung together and wept bitter tears. In the day-time, I went as usual to chop firewood at the inn. In the evening, even though I was filled with panic and fright, somehow I tried to maintain a close watch over my parents, lest they should commit suicide and leave me behind to strive miserably on my own.