A Bond Undone Page 2

  “The first to be pushed beyond the perimeter loses this fight,” Gallant Ouyang explained.

  “What if we both end up outside?”

  “Well, then I lose.”

  “And, if you lose, you promise you won’t stop me from leaving and you won’t come after me.”

  “Of course. But, if you lose, you must come with me without a word. The Masters here will be our judges.”

  “Alright!” Lotus stepped inside the ring and immediately launched two palm strikes, Willow in the Wind and Stars in the Sky. Balancing supple strength in her left hand with vigorous force in her right, she sliced at his shoulder and his back.

  Gallant Ouyang adjusted his stance slightly, but, staying true to his word, did not lift a hand. He simply tilted a little to the side and let the blows fall on him.

  Lotus immediately realised her mistake. His superior neigong internal-strength training bounced the force of her blows back at her. She was being attacked by her own inner energy! The impact nearly sent her reeling out of the circle. Fighting him was no longer an option.

  She paced along the perimeter, turning ideas over in her head. After a few laps, she announced, “I’m stepping outside this circle now by my own choice, not because I was pushed out by you. You said that if we both cross this line, then you lose. And you also promised that, if you lost, you wouldn’t stop me from leaving and you wouldn’t come after me.” She ambled out of the ring, then quickened her stride in case the men found another excuse to detain her.

  Gallant Ouyang cursed himself, but it would be ungentlemanly to break his own rules. All he could do was watch the glittering golden loops bobbing in her hair as she walked away.

  Raucous laughter broke out from Tiger Peng. Though he was none the wiser as to why this girl was eavesdropping on them, it gave him great pleasure to see her outwitting Gallant Ouyang.

  Just as Lotus was reaching the doorway, she felt a gust of air sweeping overhead and something enormous fell in front of her. She twirled sideways to avoid being crushed. As she found her footing, she was greeted by the sight of the wooden armchair containing Lama Supreme Wisdom, who was half a head taller than her even when sitting down.

  The lama pulled out a pair of copper cymbals from his crimson vestment and struck them together before Lotus could say a word.

  Clang!

  Lotus’s ears rang painfully, and she was dimly aware that the noise did not match the cymbals’ appearance. They must be made of steel rather than copper.

  The harsh sound was followed by a flash. The cymbals were now flying horizontally at her. Their edges glistened with the chill of sharp blades.

  They’ll cut me in three!

  Instead of ducking, Lotus leapt and dived straight at the airborne cymbals. She squeezed between them with a push from her right hand and a tap from her left foot, but the desperate move propelled her headlong into the seated lama. Unable to halt her momentum as she landed, she slammed into the monk’s waiting palm, which was raised in his deadliest kung fu, the Five Finger Blade.

  “No!” Gallant Ouyang shouted as gasps of shock echoed around the banqueting hall. He lunged, but he was too far away to intervene. He watched the lama’s monstrously large hand slap against Lotus’s dainty back. The bones of this delicate flower would surely be crushed. Then a shriek tore at his ears and, at the same time, he noticed Lotus flying through the doorway as Lama Supreme Wisdom jerked his hand back.

  The monk howled. A peal of laughter from beyond the hall came as the reply.

  She didn’t sound like she was hurt. The thought was quickly chased away by a torrent of questions in Gallant Ouyang’s mind. How had she managed to stay unharmed by such a powerful strike? Did he pull his hand away before channelling his inner strength? But why would he do that?

  Lama Supreme Wisdom held up his right palm. It was a grisly sight. The flesh was pierced and torn with dozens of small wounds. He stared at his mutilated hand as he declared in a voice laced with pain and terror: “Hedgehog Chainmail.”

  “That’s the most coveted treasure from the armoury of Peach Blossom Island in the Eastern Sea!” Tiger Peng could not believe his ears.

  More interested in Lotus than her attire, Gallant Ouyang slipped outside. The dark night had long engulfed her retreating form, but he was secretly pleased that was the case. If she could get away, that meant she wasn’t hurt. I shall hold that heavenly creature in these arms, he promised himself as he whistled to gather his concubines. Together, they headed into the palace grounds to find the beguiling young woman.

  “How did the little girl get her hands on something like that?” Hector Sha wondered aloud.

  “What is Hedgehog Chainmail, brother?” Browbeater Hou asked.

  “You’ve seen a hedgehog, right?” Tiger Peng answered for Hector Sha.

  “Of course.”

  “She wears this steel shirt under her dress. No weapon, blade or spear can cut through it. And it’s covered in short spikes. Like a hedgehog.”

  Browbeater Hou stuck his tongue out. “Thank the heavens I never tried to punch her.”

  “I’ll bring her back here!” Hector Sha declared.

  “Watch out for the chainmail, brother!” Browbeater Hou said.

  “Of course! I’ll drag her by the hair!” Hector Sha rushed out with Tiger Peng, leaving his martial brother Browbeater Hou scrambling after them.

  The Sixth Prince Wanyan Honglie had much enjoyed the diversion. It had granted him further insight into the skills and personality of his wulin guests. But, at that moment, his son Wanyan Kang ran into the hall with the news of his Consort’s abduction.

  The palace was thrown into a tumult. The Princes organised the search parties, and the lanterns and torches made the black sky as bright as day. The sound of marching soldiers and whinnying horses broke the silence of the night.

  2

  GUO JING RAN.

  He did not care where he was going. He just wanted to get away from the old man who was chasing him. He chose the darkest path at every turn, using his fastest lightness qinggong technique.

  Soon, he lost sight of the lanterns from the palace buildings. He had also lost his bearings. He seemed to be in an untended part of the garden, caught among clumps of thorns and strange rocks that jabbed into the earth like swords. His skin was prickled and torn, but he had avoided a worse fate. The old man wanted to drink his blood! The memory of bare teeth snapping at his throat drove Guo Jing through the barbed shrubs.

  Aiiiyaaaaaaa! The ground had given away. He plummeted for four, maybe five metres.

  Guo Jing summoned his qi to cushion the fall, but his feet found no flat surface on which to land.

  Thud! He made contact with something. Round objects. His feet rolled, sending him crashing onto his backside. He tried to push himself up, but everywhere he put his hands he found more of the same curious orbs.

  Skulls? A chill ran through Guo Jing. This is where they dump dead bodies in the palace!

  “Come out, boy!” the old man shouted.

  Never! Why would I let you drink my blood? Guo Jing retorted, to himself. He felt around, seeking somewhere to hide in case the man jumped down. Finding a cavity behind him, he retreated a few steps.

  The man raved and cursed, but of course it was of little use. “I’ll catch you, even if you have descended into the underworld!” he cried, and leapt into the pit.

  Guo Jing realised that he was actually standing at the mouth of a tunnel. He spun around and clambered inside.

  The old man followed the noise of Guo Jing groping in the dark. It was pitch black, but he was so confident of his superior kung fu that he had no fear of being ambushed by the young man.

  It’s like catching a turtle in a tank. You can’t run from me! He congratulated himself on having cornered the thief, and hurried after his prey.

  Guo Jing soon realised the hopelessness of his situation. When this tunnel comes to an end, I’ll be trapped. But what else could he do but push forward?

  Th
e old man threw his arms wide, touching the sides of the tunnel as he prowled on through the dark. A single thought circled in his mind: You killed my precious snake and drank its blood. I will claim what’s mine and suck your blood dry!

  Guo Jing fumbled on for another dozen paces. Suddenly, the tunnel opened up into a chamber, but he could also sense the old man closing in quickly.

  Now that his prey was within reach, the man crowed, “You have nowhere to run, boy!”

  “Who dares make trouble here?”

  An icy voice emanated from the left side of the chamber. These words were spoken softly, but they knocked on their eardrums like bolts of thunder.

  Guo Jing’s heart thumped loudly, and the old man shivered. Neither had expected to find company in such a place.

  “No-one comes out of this pit alive.” A ghostly voice. But the shallow breathing made it human.

  She sounds sickly, Guo Jing thought, his fear subsiding somewhat.

  “I fell into this pit. I was running from—”

  The old man now knew where Guo Jing was and he ran forward, his arms flailing. Guo Jing, in turn, was alerted by the sound of shuffling footsteps and he tried to duck out of the way.

  The man grabbed Guo Jing’s sleeve and the fabric tore with a rip!

  “Who comes down here to fight?”

  “You don’t scare me.” The old man’s response was not entirely truthful.

  “Young man, come here,” the strange voice said.

  I’d rather put my life into the hands of this— Before Guo Jing could finish the thought, five icy fingers closed around his wrist. An energy of exceptional potency flowed through them. The fingers tugged him from the old man’s grip and he lurched, face first, into a bale of straw.

  “Grappling technique.” The strange voice addressed the old man. “You come from beyond the border?” Her breathing became a wheeze.

  It’s pitch black down here. How could she tell what kung fu I used? The old man knew he needed to tread carefully.

  “I am merely a ginseng picker from the north-eastern borderlands. I go by the surname Liang.” He projected his words with internal strength to demonstrate his kung fu. “This boy has taken a valued possession from me. I trust Madam would not interfere in this personal matter.”

  “Ah, Greybeard Liang, the Ginseng Immortal,” she gasped, as if in pain. “For a nobody to stumble into my cave is already an unforgiveable crime. You are a master of the wulin. You should know the rules that govern our martial world. You of all people should realise that your presence here is an inexcusable affront.”

  Taken aback by how much this woman knew about him, Old Liang said, “May I ask Madam’s name?”

  The hand clutching onto Guo Jing’s wrist shook violently at this innocent question. She spluttered, but no answer came. Then her grip loosened for a moment as she struggled to suppress the groan rising in her body.

  She must be in a lot of pain, Guo Jing thought. “Are you unwell?” he asked, with genuine concern.

  The Ginseng Immortal, meanwhile, felt less nervous. She might be a kung fu master, but she was either ill or injured. Not a threat, in this state. Safe in that assumption, he gathered his inner strength into his arms and lunged at Guo Jing.

  Just as he made contact with the front of Guo Jing’s shirt, Old Liang felt a great energy drawing his wrists to the left. He twirled his left hand around to grab the offender.

  “Shoo!” The woman struck Greybeard Liang in the back.

  The unexpected blow made the old man stumble a few steps, but, using his inner strength, he recovered quickly. Once out of her reach, he called, “Come and get me, crone!” – and waited.

  Panting.

  And that was it. No sound of any movement. Greybeard Liang knew he was right. The woman could not walk. Guided by her loud, ragged breathing, he edged closer. Then pounced. Suddenly, he sensed something strike his ankle and coil around it.

  A whip?

  It had come without warning, the air still and silent. Yet the Ginseng Immortal’s reaction, honed through decades of combat, was quick as lightning. As the whip curled upwards, he lifted his body and went with it. Then he lashed out with a right-footed kick.

  For twenty long years, this kick had never failed him. It was what had made his name. One sweep was enough to annihilate any martial master on the receiving end.

  As the tip of his foot hit its target, Greybeard Liang’s head smacked into the earthen wall of the narrow underground chamber.

  The beginnings of a numbing sensation spread through the top of his foot, five inches from his big toe: his Surging Yang pressure point. If she were to strike it harder, he would lose all movement in his leg.

  He wrenched his foot away in a panic and flipped into a somersault to escape.

  How could her aim be so precise? It was as if she was fighting him in broad daylight. Was she even human? Her movements were almost otherworldly.

  Once Greybeard Liang had found his footing, he swung to face the ghostly woman, guided by her gasping, and thrust out his palm with all his inner neigong power. Though his knee and his head throbbed with pain, he was certain that an opponent who was struggling to breathe would not have the internal strength to counter this blow.

  Just then, the sound of joints cracking echoed around the underground chamber. To the Ginseng Immortal’s horror, he found her fingertips digging into his shoulder.

  Did she just extend the length of her arm?

  He lifted his arm to bat away the attacking hand. Her wrist had a frosty chill not born of flesh and blood.

  Greybeard Liang had no desire to fight this thing. He dived into a front roll and made for the tunnel, scampering along the passageway. He heaved with relief as he emerged into the night, dumbstruck by the encounter.

  Was she human? Was she a spectre? He had never experienced anything like it in all his decades. Now she had the boy, and the precious python blood he had spent so many years cultivating, she would surely drain him dry for her own gain. Was he destined to fail again in his search for immortality?

  Just then, it struck him. The Sixth Prince must know about her . . .

  At that thought, he hurried back to the Hall of Perfumed Snow to seek answers.

  3

  “THANK YOU, MASTER, FOR SAVING MY LIFE.” GUO JING CAST himself on the ground and kowtowed. Greybeard Liang’s footsteps had faded into the distance.

  The exertion of the scuffle had turned the woman’s wheezing into a hacking cough. It was some time before she was able to speak. “Why did he try to kill you?”

  “I came here to find herbs to cure Elder Wang’s injury . . .” It dawned on Guo Jing that she was probably yet another martial master in the pay of the Jin Prince Wanyan Honglie.

  “Greybeard Liang is famous for his knowledge of medicinal herbs. You must have stolen something very precious.”

  “I only took some remedies, things that are good for internal injuries. Does Master suffer a similar problem? I have plenty of herbs here. Cinnibar, resina draconis, notoginseng, bear’s gall bladder and myrrh. Elder Wang won’t need them all. If Master—”

  “I am fine! I don’t need your help.”

  Guo Jing mumbled something, but he could not stay silent for long, listening to her pained breathing. “If Master has trouble walking, I am happy to carry my senior out—”

  “Senior? What makes you think I’m old?”

  Snubbed once more, Guo Jing held his tongue. He wanted to leave, but felt bad deserting her in this dark and horrible place. After a moment, he offered timidly, “If Master requires anything, please allow me to fetch it.”

  “You are tiresome . . . but you have heart . . .”

  Guo Jing felt an icy hand grab him by the shoulder and drag him closer. The grip was so firm it sent a sharp pain down his spine. Then he felt a chill around his neck. She had him in a headlock.

  “Carry me out.”

  I offered to do just that! Grumbling silently to himself, he bent down and lifted her onto hi
s back.

  “Remember, I made you do this,” the woman clarified as Guo Jing felt his way out of the tunnel. “I don’t accept kindness from anyone.”

  What a strange, proud lady, Guo Jing said to himself. Lotus won’t believe me when I tell her what I’ve just been through.

  Emerging from the dark tunnel, he could now see the clear night sky beyond the mouth of the pit. The ascent was steep, but he had climbed cliffs more treacherous than this nightly in Mongolia as part of his training.

  “Who taught you lightness kung fu?” Her fingers tightened around Guo Jing’s throat.

  Gasping for air, Guo Jing summoned his internal strength to push back. The woman dug her fingers in harder. She wanted to make him reveal the depth of his training.

  “You practise orthodox neigong technique.” She loosened her grip somewhat. “You said this Elder Wang was injured. Tell me his full name.”

  “His name is Wang Chuyi. He is known as Jade Sun.”

  Guo Jing answered out of respect for her seniority, but inside he felt rather mistreated. You saved my life; I’d have told you the truth anyway. You didn’t have to use force.

  A shudder ran through the woman. “You are a disciple of the Quanzhen Sect? That’s . . . wonderful.”

  Guo Jing wondered what had softened her tone. She sounded almost pleased.

  “Why do you call Wang Chuyi ‘elder’ instead of ‘teacher’ or ‘martial uncle’?”

  “I am not a disciple of the Quanzhen Sect. But Elder Ma Yu the Scarlet Sun did teach me some breathing techniques.”

  “So you were trained in Quanzhen internal-strength kung fu? Very good . . . Who is your Master, then?”

  “I have seven mentors. They are known as the Seven Heroes of the South. My First Shifu is Flying Bat Ke, the Suppressor of Evil.”

  A violent fit of coughing overcame the woman. When she recovered, she spat the name out like a bad taste in the mouth: “Ke Zhen’e!”

  “That’s right.”

  “You came from Mongolia?”

  “Yes.”

  How does she know? Guo Jing wondered.