The Smiling, Proud Wanderer - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Then, one day, when he was finally in his right mind, he felt someone grabbing tightly around his wrists and infusing two streams of burning hot energy into his body, each through an acupoint on one of his wrist. And instantly, they clashed and collided fiercely with the streams of energy already inside his body. Feeling the ineffable pain, he opened his mouth and cry out loud, yet no sound came out of it, while the pain only worsened as though he was experiencing the combination of all tortures known to mankind at the same time.
This went on and on. In his ooziness, Linghu Chong didn't know how many days pa.s.sed by like that; all he knew was that every time after more inner energy was infused inside him, the excruciating pain and suffering would reduce slightly compared to the last time. Eventually his brain began to function normally once again and it didn't take him long to figure out that someone with very resourceful inner power must have been working on him, curing his internal injuries.
"Could Master and Master-Wife have found a senior grandmaster to save my life?" he thought, "But where did Ying-Ying go? And where are Master and Master-Wife? How about little apprentice sister?" As soon as the thought of little apprentice sister came into his mind, the energy flow in his chest seethed hysterically, and he lost consciousness instantaneously.
Thus everyday, someone came and infused more inner energy into his body, and at last the day came when he was much more clear-headed and was able to open his mouth to speak.
"Many…many thanks to the senior master! Where…where am I?"
He opened his eyes slowly, and then took in the glimpse of a much-crinkled face, which smiled gently at him. This face looked very familiar. Still in a daze, Linghu Chong gazed at him to take a better look, and before long he noticed that there was no hair on the man's head, only burning scars from incense sticks[1] – the man was a Buddhist monk. The indistinct image of a man came to his mind.
"You…you are Great…Great Master…Fang," he muttered.
"Very good! Very good! You can recognize me now. I am Fang-Sheng," the old monk replied in a smile, looking utterly gratified.
"Yeah, yeah! You are Great Master Fang-Sheng," Linghu Chong repeated.
By then, he had just realized that he was inside a small room. A small oil lamp on the table lit the room with dim yellowish glow, and he was lying on bed under a cotton-padded quilt.
"How do you feel?" Fang-Sheng asked.
"I feel better now. Where…where am I?" Linghu Chong asked.
"You are inside the Shaolin Temple," Fang-Sheng answered.
"I…I am inside the Shaolin Temple? Where's Ying-Ying? How did I come to the Shaolin Temple?" Linghu Chong asked in amazement.
"You have only regained your consciousness a moment ago. It would be wise to restrain your thoughts so as to not exhaust yourself and to avoid any possibility of relapse. Everything can wait till later." Fang-Sheng smiled.
Henceforth, Fang-Sheng would come to the small room everyday to work on Linghu Chong's injuries using his own inner energy, once in the morning and once in the evening. A fortnight later, Linghu Chong was already able to sit up and eat, drink without any help. But every time when he asked about the whereabouts of Ying-Ying and how he had ended up in the temple, Fang-Sheng would not answer but only smile.
One day, after Fang-Sheng had infused his inner energy into Linghu Chong's body, he said, "Young hero Linghu, by now, your life has been temporarily preserved, but the old monk's Kung Fu is only limited and still could not dissolve the heterogeneous energy streams inside your body. At the moment any deferral would count as a gain. But I am afraid that within the period of one year, your internal injuries would have a relapse, and by then, even the Buddha, himself, would not be able to save you."
"Ping One-Finger, Dr. Ping, told me the same thing that very day. Great Master has done his utmost to cure me, and I can never be thankful enough to what Great Master has done for me. The lifespan of any man is his destiny. Even if Great Master had greater inner energy, you wouldn't have been able to turn Heaven's will." Linghu Chong nodded.
"We members of the Buddhist order only believe in Karma, not Heaven's will." Fang-Sheng shook his head. "I've already told you that day when we first met that the Abbot of our temple, senior apprentice brother Fang-Zheng, has profound inner power. If he finds you a part of his Karma and is willing to teach you the secret of the Tendon-Altering Sutra, then even one's tendons and muscles can be altered, much less dissolving heterogeneous energy inside. I'll bring you to pay a formal visit to the Abbot. I hope you will answer him wisely."
Linghu Chong had long heard of the grand name of the Shaolin Temple Abbot, Great Master Fang-Zheng. "Thank you very much for introducing me, Great Master," he said joyously. "Even if it's not in my Karma for Great Master Abbot to look upon me with favor, just being able to pay a visit to this accomplished hierarch of the present age is already good luck that is hard to come by."
Slowly, he got off the bed, dressed himself, and then followed Great Master Fang-Sheng out of the small room.
As soon as he stepped out of the small room, he was bathed in the warm and dazzling suns.h.i.+ne. It almost felt as though he had just entered into another world, and his spirit soared. Still feeling sore and limp in his legs, he walked in slow paces and looked around along the way. The temple had many hall buildings, and each of the hall buildings looked majestic and magnificent. They met many monks on their way, and every time far before they even got there, those monks would move out of the way and bow to Fang-Sheng with their palms together in a Buddhist greeting, holding him in reverence and sticking to etiquette. After walking through three long corridors, they arrived outside a stone building.
"Fang-Sheng requests an audience with apprentice brother Abbot," Fang-Sheng said to the young Buddhist novice standing outside of the building.
The young Buddhist novice went inside to report and soon returned.
"Abbot is happy to have your presence," he said, putting his palms together in greeting.
Linghu Chong followed Fang-Sheng and entered the building. Then a short, old monk sitting on a cattail ha.s.sock in the middle caught his attention.
"Fang-Sheng here shows his respect to apprentice brother Abbot, and I'd like you to meet the Head Apprentice of the Huashan School, young hero Linghu Chong," Fang-Sheng bowed and saluted.
Linghu Chong knelt down on his knees right away and kowtowed respectfully. Abbot Fang-Zheng raised himself slightly and extended his right arm in greeting.
"Young hero, no need for excessive courtesy. Please sit down."
After Linghu Chong finished kowtowing, he took a seat on the cattail ha.s.sock to the right of Fang-Sheng and shot another glance at Abbot Fang-Zheng. The man had a thin face with a kind and amiable look, which gave no indication as to how old the man really was.
"Who would have thought that this so well-known hierarch looks so mediocre? Without prior knowledge, who would have believed that he turns out to be the Head Master of the Number One martial arts school in the entire Martial World?" Linghu Chong thought to himself secretly. Then he heard Great Master Fang-Sheng's voice.
"After the last three months of nursing and nouris.h.i.+ng, young hero Linghu is feeling much better now."
"Did I stay in a coma for over three months? I thought it was only twenty some days." Linghu Chong thought to himself, feeling astounded.
"Excellent," Fang-Zheng replied. Turning his head toward Linghu Chong, he said, "Young hero Linghu, your respectful master Mr. Yue, the Head Master of the Huashan School, is an upright man who never stoop to flattery. His clean fame is well known to the entire Martial World. I've always admired him very much."
"Thank you for your kind words!" Linghu Chong stood up and bowed. "I had been unconscious due to my severe injuries, and I owe a great debt of grat.i.tude to Great Master Fang-Sheng for saving my life. But I had no idea that three month have pa.s.sed. May I ask you if my Master and Master-Wife are well?"
Even though that he shouldn't have asked an outsider about the well being of his own Master and Master-Wife, feeling very concerned about them, he still couldn't help but ask.
"I heard that Mr. Yue, Madam Yue, and the Huashan apprentices are in the Fujian Province at this moment," Fang-Zheng replied.
"Many thanks, Great Master Abbot!" Linghu Chong felt relieved right away. But then immediately after, a feeling of sadness welled up in this heart. "So Master and Master-Wife have brought little apprentice sister to apprentice brother Lin's home at last," he thought to himself.
"Young hero Linghu, please sit down," Fang-Zheng said gently. "Apprentice brother Fang-Sheng told me that young hero showed most excellent sword art skills and has truly mastered the skills taught by Grandmaster Feng of Huashan. That is so gratifying."
"You flatter me," Linghu Chong answered.
"Grandmaster Feng has lived in seclusion for many years. I had thought that the venerable grandmaster had pa.s.sed away. It is such pleasure to hear that he is still with us in this world," Fang-Zheng said.
"Yes!" Linghu Chong acknowledged.
"Young hero, after you had your injuries, your healer had gone about the wrong way in curing you, leaving the many conflicting energy streams inside you that can not be easily dissolved. Apprentice brother Fang-Sheng has explained all these to me. After careful consideration, I came to realization that only after you begin training in the secret Kung Fu of our school, the Tendon Altering Sutra, will you be able to use your own internal power to dissolve them gradually. If we use any external source of inner energy and force it upon young hero's body, it would be like drinking poison to quench thirst and cause more suffering. For the last three months, apprentice brother Fang-Sheng used his own inner energy to extend your life. But after he infused his inner energy into your body, he had only added another heterogeneous energy stream inside you. If you try gathering your inner energy, you'll see what I mean."
Linghu Chong gave it a try, and just as Fang-Zheng had said, he immediately felt waves of inner energy surging inside his lower stomach, clash with each other, completely out of his control. Agonizing pain soon swept over him, his body trembling wildly as cold sweats streamed down his forehead.
"The old Buddhist monk is so incompetent and only caused young hero more pain and suffering," Fang-Sheng said apologetically, putting his palms together.
"Please don't say that, Great Master," Linghu Chong replied hurriedly. "For my well being, you worked with all your heart and did everything you could do, exhausting precious inner energy of your own that took a long time to cultivate. I have only been granted a new lease of life thanks to Great Master's kindness."
"I really don't deserve that," said Fang-Sheng. "Grandmaster Feng granted me great benevolence many years ago. What I did couldn't even repay a fraction of my debt of grat.i.tude to Grandmaster Feng."
At these words, Feng-Zheng held up his head.
"Why haven't you ascended the meanings of benevolence and rancor? Benevolence is Karma while rancor is also Karma. Rancor should not be persisted in while benevolence need not be persisted in, either. All things in the mortal world are as transient as a fleeting cloud. There is no benevolence or rancor after death. "[2]
"Yes, many thanks for the advice, senior apprentice brother," Fang-Sheng answered.
"We members of the Buddhist order believe that compa.s.sion is the principle of life, so with the knowledge of young hero's internal injuries, we will aid to the best we can," Fang-Zheng said slowly. "The divine art of the Tendon Altering Sutra was written by the venerable Bodhidharma,[3] the First Ancestor of the Zen Sect of Mahayana in the East Region, and inherited by the Second Ancestor of the Zen sect, Great Master Hui-Ke. Great Master Hui-Ke had a previous Buddhist name called Shen-Guang. He was from Luoyang. Having been an expert in the Doctrine of Confucius and Mencius since young, he was especially proficient in understanding profound theories. At the time when First Ancestor Bodhidharma resided in the Xiben Temple, Great Master Shen-Guang went to the temple to make an application for increase. Seeing that Great Master Shen-Guang had been studying heterogeneously with many preconceived ideas rooted deeply and was too self-a.s.sured, which would make a great obstacle in learning the true ideas of Zen, First Ancestor Bodhidharma refused him at once. Great Master Shen-Guang entreated for a long time, yet still could not cross the threshold, so he drew his sword and chopped his own left arm off."
Linghu Chong uttered a cry of shock, thinking to himself, "That was some fort.i.tude Great Master Shen-Guang had shown in search of Buddhist principles and truths."
"His whole heartedness finally moved First Ancestor Bodhidharma," Fang-Zheng continued, "who accepted him as his student and renamed him to Hui-Ke. Thus, Second Ancestor Hui-Ke was able to inherit the mantle of First Ancestor Bodhidharma and carry on the teaching of Zen principles. What the Second Ancestor had learned from the First Ancestor Bodhidharma was the correct reason of the Buddhist doctrine, using the teaching in the Lankavatara Sutra for introspection and for realizing one's nature. Even though the name of our school's martial arts skills is widely known, it is, in fact, only a superficial study that is extremely insignificant. First Ancestor Bodhidharma only taught his apprentices ways to strength and invigorate their bodies. When the body is strengthened, the mind becomes clever, and when the mind becomes clever, the easier it is to comprehend. But many later disciples often became infatuated with martial arts, so as to attend to trifles and neglect the essentials, therefore, gave no consideration to the original purpose of First Ancestor's martial arts teaching. Pity, what a pity!"
At that word, Fang-Zheng shook his head again and again with emotion. After a long pause, he finally went on.
"After First Ancestor pa.s.sed away and returned to Heaven, Second Ancestor stumped upon a volume of Buddhist scripture by First Ancestor's cattail ha.s.sock, and that was the Tendon Altering Sutra. This volume had very abstruse argumentation and principles, and even after Second Ancestor studied it a.s.siduously, he still could not understand it. But he knew that if First Ancestor Bodhidharma had left this volume of scripture next to the stonewall after nine years of strict meditation it simply had to be extraordinary, even though it had few words. So Second Ancestor traveled all over many famous mountains and peaks in search of well-accomplished and eminent monks who could understand the true significance within. But at the time, Second Ancestor, himself, was already a well-accomplished and eminent monk. Even he couldn't understand the scripture after cudgeling his brain, it was only harder to try to find someone with even higher intelligence and more profound understanding than him. Hence, for twenty years, Second Ancestor searched in vain, and the mystery in the volume of scripture remained unsolved. One day, with the ultimate Karma, Second Ancestor was able to meet an Indian monk named Bancimidi on Mount Emei in Szechwan, and when they discussed Buddhist studies, they were congenial to each other. So Second Ancestor took out the Tendon Altering Sutra and studied intensively together with Bancimidi on top of the Golden Peak of Mount Emei. The two eminent Buddhist monks enlightened and inspired each other a great deal and were able to gain a thorough understanding after forty-nine days."
"Merciful Buddha! Thank Buddha!" putting his palms together, Fang-Sheng praised.
"But what Great Master Bancimidi explained were mostly theories of Zen. It was after another twelve years, when Second Ancestor chanced upon a young martial arts expert in the city of Chang-An and after a thorough discussion that lasted three days and three nights, was he able to apprehend the profound martial arts theories in the Tendon Altering Sutra to the full extent." After a pause, he said, "And that young man was none other than Li Jing, who was made Wei-Lord for rendering his outstanding service to the founding of the Tang Dynasty and later a.s.sisting Emperor Tai-Zong in putting down the Turks rebellion. Wei-Lord Li's exceptional achievements probably will also have to be attributed to the benefits he received from reading the Tendon Altering Sutra."
"Wow," Linghu Chong muttered as he thought to himself, "Turned out the Tendon Altering Sutra had such historical background."
Fang-Zheng continued, "The Tendon Altering Sutra Kung Fu utilizes all the channels, pa.s.sages of one's body and bonds the spirits of the five internal organs. Comprehensive yet does not disperse, cycling through yet incessant. Energy originates from the within, while blood nourishes from the outside. Once the pract.i.tioner masters the Tendon Altering Sutra Kung Fu, power can be launched at a change of thought. The a.s.sembly and the release become part of a natural course, and complete themselves without conscious commands, just like the rising of the tide or the exploding of the thunder. Young hero, once one masters the Tendon Altering Sutra, it is almost like a small boat floating among gigantic waves of the ocean. When the angry waves surge about, the small boat naturally moves high and low accordingly, never makes an effort. Even if the boat had wanted to make an effort, where would the strength be coming from and where would the strength be used upon?"
Linghu Chong nodded again and again, knowing that the principle in the metaphor was broad and deep, and was also interlinked with the sword art theory Feng Qingyang had explained to him before.
"Just because the Tendon Altering Sutra contains such immense power, in the last several hundred years, it has not been taught to anyone except the right ones and the ones who had the Karma," Fang-Zheng went on. "Without the blessed Karma, even outstanding and exceptional members of our own school can not be taught the secret of the sutra. Junior apprentice brother Fang-Sheng would make a good example. He already has high Kung Fu skills, and has always held his abstains rigorously. An outstanding disciple of our school he is, indeed. Yet, our Master didn't teach him anything from the sutra."
"Yes. Linghu Chong does not have such blessed Karma. I dare not ask for it absurdly," Linghu Chong replied.
"Not so. Young hero is one with the Karma." Fang-Zheng shook his head.
A mixed feeling of shock and delight surged in Linghu Chong's chest. His heart thumped heavily, and he couldn't believe that he actually was one with the Karma for this ultimate Kung Fu of the Shaolin School when eminent monks such as Great Master Fang-Sheng didn't even have the fortune to learn it.
"The Buddha opens his wisdom to the vast audiences, but only ones with the Karma can attain the truth," Fang-Zheng spoke slowly. "Young hero is the disciple of the venerable Grandmaster Feng – that is the one element of the Karma; young hero ended up coming to our Shaolin Temple – that is another element of the Karma; young hero will die unless he studies the Tendon Altering Sutra while apprentice brother Fang-Sheng could benefit from learning the sutra but wouldn't suffer from not learning the sutra, either, and the difference in between is yet one more element of the Karma."
"Young hero Linghu is blessed with the ultimate fortune. Fang-Sheng is gratified for you," Fang-Sheng said, putting his palms together in a Buddhist greeting.
"Junior apprentice brother," Fang-Zheng said, "it is in your nature that you always persist in things. You have never been able to see through the ultimate principle in the three ways of vimukta: 'Void, Markless, and Non-action,' thus not able to overcome the barrier of understanding the true meaning of life and death. It's not that I am not willing to teach you the Tendon Altering Sutra. I am only afraid that once you start training in this superior Kung Fu, you will become infatuated with it, hence neglect the proper duties of Buddhist meditation."
"Thank you, senior apprentice brother for the edification." A look of anxiety appeared on Fang-Sheng's face as he stood up and spoke in an utterly respectful voice.
Fang-Zheng nodded slightly to show his encouragement. He waited for a good while until a smile crept back onto Fang-Sheng's lips before giving another nod and letting a small smile blossom on his own face. Turning his head toward Linghu Chong, he spoke again.
"There was originally a significant obstacle in this matter, but this obstacle no longer stood in our way. Even since First Ancestor Bodhidharma, this Tendon Altering Sutra was only taught to members of the Shaolin School, never anyone outside. I cannot let this stipulation end in my hands. That's why young hero must join the Shaolin School of Mount Songshan and become a laymen apprentice of the Shaolin School." After a short pause, he spoke again, "If young hero does not find the old monk loathsome, then you can become an apprentice of mine as a member of the 'Guo' cla.s.s. You can change your name to Linghu Guochong."
"Congratulations, young hero," Fang-Sheng uttered a cry of joy. "Senior apprentice brother has only taken in two apprentices all his life, and that happened over thirty years ago. As the final apprentice of apprentice brother Abbot, not only would you be able to learn the superior Kung Fu of the Tendon Altering Sutra, the twelve consummate Shaolin Skills my apprentice brother is expert in, can also be pa.s.sed down to you according to your abilities. By then, young hero will certainly be able to brighten the name of our school and add an extraordinary splendor to the Martial World."
"Great Master Abbot, I can't be thankful enough to your great kindness. But I am already an apprentice of the Huashan School and it would be inappropriate for me to join another school and study under a new Master," Linghu Chong stood up and replied respectfully.
"Well, that is exactly the significant obstacle I had just mentioned." Fang-Zheng let out a slight smile. "Young hero, you probably don't know it yet, but you are no longer an apprentice of the Huashan School."
Linghu Chong was thunderstruck. "Why…why…why do you say that I am no longer an apprentice of the Huashan School?" His voice trembled as he spoke.
"Young hero, please take a look at this," taking a letter out from his sleeve pocket, Fang-Zheng answered. He gave his palm a gentle wave, and the letter glided toward Linghu Chong in a straight line.
As soon as Linghu Chong caught the letter in his hands, a shock shot down his spine. Gasping with astonishment, he couldn't help but think, "This Great Master Abbot has fathomless inner energy, indeed. Even with just a thin letter was he able to pa.s.s over such vigorous inner energy. How amazing!"
Looking down at the letter in his hands, he saw the red seal on the envelope that carried the words "Seal of the Huashan School Head Master." There were also characters in the middle of the envelope that said, "To Great Master Abbot of the Shaolin School." These characters were written with an upright form in a dignified style, and were precisely the handwriting of his Master, Yue Buqun. Faintly feeling a foreboding sensation, he drew the letter out with trembling hands and read it. The sinking feeling in his stomach settled in as he read on, not able to believe that this would ever happen. After reading it the second time, he suddenly felt everything around him began spinning uncontrollably, and before he knew it, he had already collapsed to the floor with a loud thump. By the time he woke up again, he found himself in the arms of Great Master Fang-Sheng. Struggled back to his feet, Linghu Chong couldn't help but break into a loud cry.
"May I ask the reason for young hero's sorrow? Had any mishap happened to your respectful master?" Fang-Sheng asked.
"Great Master, please take a look," handing the letter to Fang-Sheng, Linghu Chong muttered, choking with sobs.
Taking the letter from Linghu Chong, Fang-Sheng took a good look at the letter, which said:
"Yue Buqun, the Head Master of the Huashan School, here presents his greetings to the Head Master of the Shaolin School: As the Head Master of the Huashan School with unmerited reputation, I have not being sending my regards to your highness, so as not to disturb your peace. This letter is in regard to the defiant apprentice of our school, Linghu Chong, who, with the disobedient character, had been repeatedly breaking school rules and even took up with evildoers and a.s.sociated with brigands. Buqun must have been an inept Master, because even after strict reprimands and stern punishments, I still failed to show effect. In order to uphold the righteousness of the Martial World and the clean name of an orthodox school, I hereby expel the defiant apprentice Linghu Chong from the Huashan School. From no on, this defiant apprentice is no longer a member of our school. If he continues to collude with evil and bring calamity to the world, I request all friends of the orthodox schools to eliminate him with no mercy. With great anxiety and shame, I am writing this letter, and the words could not express my feelings to the full extent. I wish for your forgiveness."
This also took Fang-Sheng by great surprise. He wanted to comfort Linghu Chong but failed to find any words. Giving the letter back to Fang-Zheng, he took a glance at Linghu Chong, whose face was now covered with streams of tears, and heaved a long sigh.
"Alas, young hero, you really shouldn't have affiliated with members of the Dark-Wood Cliff."
"Every Head Master of the orthodox schools must have received similar letters from your respectful master and have already informed all their members. Even if you were perfectly fit, as soon as you walk out of this door, it will be like walking on thorns every step of the way, and all members of the orthodox schools will consider you a fatal enemy," Fang-Zheng spoke again.
These words stunned Linghu Chong. He immediately remembered hearing similar words from Ying-Ying by the mountain gully. By now, not only all the heterodox school members would be on his heels with a mission to kill him, all the orthodox school members would also consider him a fatal enemy. As vast as the world under heaven was, there seemed to have not a place he could shelter himself. Then he remembered the deep love of Master and Master-Wife, who could almost be considered his foster parents. They not only taught him Kung Fu, but also brought him up from a child. But he had been willful and committed all kinds of outrages, which ultimately caused his expulsion from the Huashan School. He could imagine in his mind how Master must have felt more pain and sorrow than him when Master wrote these letters. Feeling of grief and shame welled in his heart; he almost itched to just b.u.mp his head against a wall to kill himself.
Out of his tear-filled eyes, he could vaguely make out the expression of deep pity on Fang-Zheng and Fang-Sheng's faces, and suddenly he remembered something: Liu Zhengfeng wanted to have his Gold Basin Hand Was.h.i.+ng ceremony so he could quit the Martial World, but only because he had taken up with the Demon's Cult Elder Qu Yang, he ended up dying under the Songshan School's sword. It was obvious that Righteousness and Evil were not irreconcilable. Even someone as powerful and prestigious as Liu Zhengfeng could not escape the fatal destiny, much less he, an isolated young man not worth mentioning and without any help, let alone the fact that the Five-Tyrant Ridge gathering of heresy could only be worse.
"The sea of bitterness has no boundaries, if one only turns his head, there is the sh.o.r.e," Fang-Zheng said slowly. "As long as one awakes to his errors, even if he were an unpardonably wicked person, Buddha will not turn his back to him. You are still young, and only took a wrong step in life for the moment and affiliated with the wrong kind of people mistakenly. That's not to say that you won't be able to make a fresh start. Your affiliation with the Huashan School has made a thorough break. Henceforth, as a member of our Shaolin School, you can thoroughly rectify your errors and be reborn again. I am sure it's not likely that someone in the Martial World would want to make trouble for you." He had spoken these words in a very casual manner, yet these words showed a sign of stateliness.
"Right now I have nowhere to go," Linghu Chong thought to himself. "If I rely upon the Shaolin School for protection, not only would I be able to learn the superior Kung Fu to save my life, with the prestige of the Shaolin School, indeed, no one would dare to make trouble for Great Master Fang-Zheng's apprentice." But right at the moment, a feeling of unyielding suddenly rose from within his chest. He thought, "If a man cannot even stand on his own feet between heaven and earth and has to rely upon another school for protection in shame, how can he be called a true man ever again? If the thousands of people in the Martial World want to kill me, so be it. I'll just let them come and kill me. Master doesn't want me anymore and has expelled me from the Huashan School. So what? I'll simply wander about alone by myself."
At that thought, he couldn't help but feeling righteous ardor surging up his throat, making him thirsty. All he wanted to do now was to drink a few dozens of strong liquor, and the thoughts about life, death, school or faction were all cast behind his back. At the instant, even Yue Lingshan, the one he had always borne in mind constantly, seemed to have become a complete stranger. Getting back onto his feet, he knelt down in front of Fang-Zheng and Fang-Sheng and then kowtowed respectfully. Believing that he had made up his mind to join the Shaolin School, Fang-Zheng and Fang-Sheng both revealed a smiling face.
"Since I am not even wanted by my own Master, I am too shamed to join another school. I can't thank the two Great Masters enough for your great kindness and mercy. Please accept my farewell," Linghu Chong stood up and declared in a loud voice.
Fang-Zheng was astounded, having not expected this young man to show no fear of death.
"Young hero, this matter concerns your life and death. Please don't be swayed by personal feelings," Fang-Sheng persuaded sincerely.
But Linghu Chong only replied with a burst of laughter. Turning on his heels, he walked out of the room. With his chest filled with grievance, his steps became unexpectedly nimble, and he went out of the Shaolin Temple in big strides.
As soon as he stepped out of the temple, feeling of desolation welled up in his heart. Looking up into the sky he laughed, thinking, "All the orthodox members consider me a vital enemy, while all the heretical members want to kill me. Linghu Chong most likely won't even make it to the end of the day. I'd like to see who would be the one taking away my life."
He checked his pockets. There was no money in his pocket, no sword by his waistband, and even the short zither given to him as a present by Ying-Ying was nowhere to be seen. It wouldn't have been overstating to say that by then he owned nothing in this world and had not a concern any anything whatsoever.
He began walking down Mount Songshan. At the time of dusk, he was already far from the Shaolin Temple. The walk exhausted him and also made him feel very hungry.
"Where should I go about finding something to eat?" he thought to himself.
Suddenly, sounds of footsteps thumped as seven or eight men ran toward him in quick steps from the west. All of them were dressed up in tight robes, their weapons tying to their backs.
"If you want to kill me, it's better that you attack now, so as to save me the trouble of looking for food. Even if I eat my fill I am going to get killed anyway. Why hold the candle to the sun?" Linghu Chong thought to himself.
Stopping at the middle of the road, he stood, arms akimbo, and shouted, "Linghu Chong is right here! Go ahead! Come and kill me!"
But quite to his surprise, when these men ran by him, they simply cast a quick glance at him before making a detour around him.
"This man is a r.e.t.a.r.d," one man muttered.
"Right! We'd better not let unnecessary incidents delay the more important matter," another man answered.
"It'll be terrible if we let him get away," a third man said.
Only moments later, the group of men had run into the distance.
"Turns out that they are after somebody else," Linghu Chong thought to himself.
Just when the sounds of footsteps from those men finally died down, sounds of hoof beats suddenly rose from the west, and soon five horses galloped by him like a gust of wind. After the horses had dashed out another one hundred feet or so, one of the horses turned around all of a sudden. The rider was a middle-aged woman.
"Excuse me, mister, you didn't happen to see an old man in a white robe, did you? He is quite thin and tall, and also carries a scimitar by his waist," she asked.
"No, I didn't." Linghu Chong shook his head.
Without another word, the woman turned the horse around and raced after the other four riders.
"Well, it seems that they are pursuing an old man in a white robe. I don't have anything to do, anyway. I might as well just go watch the fun," Linghu Chong thought to himself, and at that thought, he began walking toward the east.
He walked for about half an hour when another group of men, over a dozen of them, caught up with him in a small trot and then went past him.
"Howdy, bro, did you happen to see an old man in a white robe? He is quite thin and tall and has a scimitar by his waist," a man in his fifties turned his head back and asked.
"No, I didn't," Linghu Chong answered.
After another while, when he arrived at a fork in the road, sounds of horse bells[4] rose from the northwest corner as three horses dashed along the road at high speed. All three riders were young men in their twenties.
"Hey, I've got a question! Have you seen a…?" the leading rider waved his horsewhip in the air and asked.
"…a thin, tall, old man in a white robe with a scimitar by his waist, right?" Linghu Chong finished the sentence for him.
"That's right! You know where he is?" all looking utterly joyful, the three asked in unison.
"Sorry, I have not seen him," Linghu Chong said with a sigh.
The leading rider's temper hit the roof. "G.o.d d.a.m.n it! Are you making fun of me? If you haven't seen him, how could you have described him?" he bellowed.
"Why couldn't I know the description before actually seeing him?" Linghu Chong grinned.
The leading young man raised the horsewhip in his hand and was about to whip it at Linghu Chong's head when another young man's voice rose.
"Second brother, don't complicate things. Let's get back to the chase, hurry!"
The young man holding the horsewhip let out a disgruntled snort as he waved the whip and hit the air then rode off together with the other two.
"Why are all these people going after an old man in a white robe. What did he do?" Linghu Chong thought to himself. "To follow them and watch the fun will certainly be entertaining, but if they realize that I am Linghu Chong, I bet they would kill me on the spot." At that thought, feeling of fear started stewing in his chest, but then he thought better of it. "At this stage, both the orthodox schools and the heretic schools want me dead. Dodging about might enable me to eke out a miserable life for a few more days, but eventually, I'll still have to face my bitter end, the final deathblow. What good is it to live a few more days of a life filled with dread? I'd rather accept the circ.u.mstances with good will and see who I'll lose my life to."
Having made up his mind, he walked on following the dust kicked up by the three horses right away. Later, several more groups of people went pa.s.s him in the same direction and all asked him about the "thin, tall, old man in a white robe with a scimitar by his waist."
"All of these different groups of people are chasing after the old man in white robe. None of them knows where he is yet all of them are following the same direction. That is so strange!" Linghu Chong thought.
He walked on for another mile or so, crossing through a wood of pine trees, when suddenly a vast wilderness and a dense ma.s.s of people appeared in front of his eyes. There were at least six or seven hundred people in the crowd, but the wilderness was so large that the six or seven hundred people in the middle appeared to have only occupied a tiny spot of it. A straight, broad road led directly to the large crowd, so Linghu Chong simply walked forward along the road, and as he walked closer, the scene became clearer.
In the middle of the crowd stood a small pavilion, the kind used as a wayside shelter for travelers to take a rest in. The build of the pavilion appeared simple and crude. The large crowd of people surrounded the pavilion in a circle yet kept a good distance from it, dozens of feet or so, and n.o.body closed in on it. After walking another one hundred feet closer, Linghu Chong finally saw him. An old man in a white robe sat in the middle of the pavilion all by himself, drinking wine next to a small table. Whether he had a scimitar by his waist, Linghu Chong could not tell from the distance. Even though he was sitting down, he still looked as tall as a person in average height standing up.
Feeling of reverence swelled up in Linghu Chong's heart. Surrounded by so many enemies, the old man was still able to drink his wine in such a calm and unhurried manner. Among all the heroes Linghu Chong had seen or heard of throughout his life, rarely had one displayed such exceptional heroic spirit. He slowly walked forward and shouldered his way into the crowd. Everyone in the crowd stared at the old man in white robe with fixed eyes and no one paid the slightest attention to Linghu Chong.
Linghu Chong took a good look at the old man. He had a thin face. A bush of spa.r.s.e, gray beard, long enough to reach his chest, fluttered under his chin in the breeze. Holding the wine cup in his hand, he gazed at the distance where the horizon met with the blue sky without casting even a glance at the crowd surrounding him. He carried a pack on his back, but there was no scimitar by his waist. Turned out that he didn't even have a weapon with him. Linghu Chong had no idea about the old man's name or origin, nor any clue why so many fellow martial people would come after him, nor whether the man was good or evil. He simply admired the heroic spirit the old man had put on display, the self-a.s.surance he had shown as though he was just drink by himself alone and there was no one else even present. And unconsciously, the feeling of mutual sympathy as a fellow sufferer also swelled up in his heart and consumed him. Taking big strides forward, he spoke loudly.
"h.e.l.lo there, Senior Master. Don't you feel lonely drinking all by yourself? Let me be your accompany and drink with you." Walking straight into the pavilion, Linghu Chong cupped his hands toward the old man in greeting and then sat down by the table.
The old man turned his head around and shot a sharp side-glance toward Linghu Chong. What met his eyes was a weaponless and sick-faced young man he had never met before. He let out a snort as a slight look of surprise flashed by his face but did not answer.
Linghu Chong picked up the wine kettle and filled the wine cup in front of the old man before filling a wine cup for himself.
"Cheers!" he raised his cup and toasted. Emptying the content of the wine cup down his throat in a swift swing, he drank it up in one gulp. The wine turned out to be very strong liquor; not only did he feel as though his mouth had just been cut with sharp knives as soon as the wine was poured in, he felt as though his entire stomach was on fire now. "Excellent wine!" he praised in a loud voice.
"Hey idiot! Get out! We are here to fight old Xiang to death. Don't be a hindrance," a big fellow outside the pavilion bawled in a husky voice.
"I am only drinking together with Senior Master Xiang. How did I become a hindrance for you?" Linghu Chong replied with a grin.
He filled his cup and then poured the wine into his mouth once again.
"Excellent wine!" he said with a thumb up.
"Move aside, chap, if you don't want to die for nothing. We have Chief Dongfang's order to capture renegade Xiang Wentian. If anyone wants to make trouble or interfere, he is guaranteed a horrible death," a chilling voice rose from the left side.
Linghu Chong cast a glance at the origin of the voice then caught sight of a thin, short man with a white face. The man was dressed in a black robe with a yellow band around his waist. There were two or three hundred people standing next to him all dressed in black robes, but their waistbands were in all kinds of different colors. Linghu Chong suddenly remembered: when he had met Elder Qu Yang of the Demon's Cult outside of the town of Hengshan, Qu was also dressed in the same kind of black robe, and he could vaguely remember that Qu also had a yellow band around his waist. The thin man said that he was following Chief Dongfang's order to capture a renegade then of course these people are all cult members of the Demon's Cult. Could this thin man have been an elder of the Demon's Cult as well?
Filling his cup with wine, he drank it up a third time. "Excellent wine!" he praised and then said to the old man in white robe, Xiang Wentian, "Senior Master Xiang, I've drunk three cups of your wine. Many thanks! Many thanks!"
"That chap is the expelled apprentice of the Huashan School, Linghu Chong!" someone suddenly shouted out loud from the east end.
Linghu Chong cast a glance toward the direction of the voice and immediately recognized the man who had spoken out: it was Hou Renxiong, the apprentice of the Qingcheng School. Since he paid more attention to the crowd with this glance, he also realized that among the people standing next to Hou Renxiong, many were also members of the Five Mountains Sword Alliance.
"Linghu Chong," a Taoist Priest spoke in a loud and clear voice, "your Master said that you have taken up with evildoers, and he certainly said it right. This demon Xiang Wentian's murderous hands are both covered with blood of chivalry members of the orthodox schools. What are you doing staying together with him? If you don't get lost right now, we'll chop you into bits and pieces."
"Are you an Uncle-Master of the Taishan School? I have never met this Senior Master Xiang before in my entire life. I've only stepped out because I saw the hundreds of you surrounding a man who was all by himself. What is that? And when did the Five Mountains Sword Alliance decided to collaborate with the Demon's Cult? Aren't you afraid to become the laughing stocks of all the heroes under Heaven taking on Senior Master Xiang, a single man, with the combined force of both the orthodox and the heretic schools?" Linghu Chong replied.
"When did we ever collaborate with the Demon's Cult? The Demon's Cult is here to capture a renegade of their cult; we are here to avenge for friends who have died under the devil's murderous hands. They do their thing and we do our thing. There's no relevance whatsoever!" the Taoist Priest rebuffed furiously.
"Good, good! As long as you fight him one on one, I'll just sit here, drink my wine and watch the fun," Linghu Chong said.
"Who the h.e.l.l do you think you are? Everybody, let's kill this chap before we get even with that devil Xiang," Hou Renxiong yelled.
"There would be no need to trouble so many people just to kill Linghu Chong, a single man. Brother Hou, you can just come and do it yourself," Linghu Chong said with a grin.
Hou Renxiong knew very well that his own Kung Fu skills were inferior to that of Linghu Chong's learning from his past experience with Linghu Chong in the wine house when Linghu Chong had sent him rolling down the stairs with a single kick and certainly dared not to challenge Linghu Chong all by himself. But he had no idea that the Linghu Chong now was far from the Linghu Chong then and had lost all his internal strengths. The others in the group seemed to have great scruples about Xiang Wentian's Kung Fu skills and none was bold enough to charge into the pavilion.
"Xiang Wentian, when things have come down to this extent, you'd better go see the chief with us and ask for pardon from his Highness. There's still a chance that his Highness might spare your life. You are a great man in our cult. Would you rather see flesh and blood flying in all directions when we fight to death so the outsiders can laugh their heads off?" the thin man from the Demon's Cult shouted.
Xiang Wentian only answered with a snort and gave a sip to the wine in his cup. As he raised his cup, something clanked, and that was when Linghu Chong noticed the iron shackles chained around his two wrists in astonishment.
"So he just escaped from his prison and hasn't even removed the shackles around his wrists," Linghu Chong thought to himself as compa.s.sion swelled up in his heart. "This man is unable to defend himself. Why don't I help him fend off the attacks for a little while and just give away my life here in this muddled fight?"
At that thought, he stood up, arms akimbo, and said loudly, "How can Senior Master Xiang fight you with his hands tied up in iron chains? Since I drank three cups of his great wine, I guess it will have to be my duty to give him a hand in his defense. Anyone who wants to lay a finger on Senior Master Xiang will have to kill Linghu Chong first."
Seeing how Linghu Chong had come forward for him for no apparent reason in such a lunatic manner, Xiang Wentian was taken by complete surprise. "Hey boy, why do you help me?" he asked in a whisper.
"Upon seeing injustice, draw one's sword to set right a wrong," Linghu Chong replied.
"Where's your knife then?" Xiang Wentian asked.
"Oh, I use a sword. Too bad I don't have one," Linghu Chong replied.
"How are your skills in the sword art? Aren't you from the Huashan School? Then I am afraid your skills in the sword art won't be anything exceptional."
"Nothing exceptional. Besides, I have very severe injuries and have lost all my internal strengths. That only makes the matter worse!" Linghu Chong grinned.
"Man, you are an oddball. Did you know that? Fine, I'll go get a sword for you," Xiang Wentian replied.
A white shadow suddenly flashed in front of everybody's eyes as Xiang Wentian charged toward the crowd. Instantly, reflections from various blades twinkled as over a dozen weapons struck toward him. But Xiang Wentian unexpectedly accelerated sideways and pounced on the Taoist Priest from the Taishan School. The Taoist Priest thrust his sword forward at once. With an agile sway, Xiang Wentian dodged the thrust and stepped behind the Priest's back. He quickly threw his left elbow backward, which struck the middle of the Taoist Priest's back in a loud thud. Waving his two arms slightly immediately after, he caught the Taoist Priest's long sword with the iron chain, and with a swift push to the ground using his left foot, he had leapt back into the pavilion. The entire series of moves were executed in such lightning fast speed. The many fighters of the orthodox schools had the intension of intercepting him but simply had the time for the reaction. One man was the fastest to react and chased after Xiang Wentian instantly. At the time Xiang Wentian had returned to the pavilion, he was only several feet from the pavilion. Raising the broadsword in his hand, he swung the blade at Xiang Wentian's back. But it was as if Xiang Wentian had eyes on his back; without even looking back, he threw a back kick with his left foot, which struck right in the man's solar plexus, sending him flying in the air in a painful cry. The man had put all his strength into the fierce swing of his blade and had no way of retracting the force in time. With a heavy thud, the knife followed through its course and cut off the man's own right leg. Meanwhile, the Taoist Priest from the Taishan School swayed a few times and then collapsed to the ground, blood gus.h.i.+ng out continuously from his mouth.
Thunderous cheers exploded among the Demon's Cult crowd. "That's some handsome skills, Right Counselor Xiang!" dozens of excited voices shouted in unison.
Xiang Wentian let out a slight grin and clenched his fist in greetings toward the crowd of the Demon's Cult members, acknowledging the loud cheers. The iron chain tied around his wrists clanked loudly. With a swing of his arm, Xiang Wentian threw the sword toward the table, and with a clatter, the sword tip cut into the table.
"Here you go!" he said.
Linghu Chong felt admiration growing inside him. "This man dares to outface so many first-cla.s.s masters. Turned out he truly has extraordinary skills," he thought inwardly. But he didn't reach out for the sword.
"Senior Master Xiang possesses such superior Kung Fu skills. There is really no need for me to make a fool of myself. Goodbye," he said, clenching his fist in greetings.
Before Xiang Wentian had a chance to reply, cold flashes from naked blades flickered as three long swords shot toward the pavilion – three apprentices of the Qingcheng School, Hou Renxiong among them, had launched their attacks. All three long swords were aimed at Linghu Chong: one pointed at the middle of his back while the other two pointed at his lower back. The tips of all three swords were less than a foot from Linghu Chong.
"Linghu Chong, on your knees!" Hou Renxiong bellowed. After the shout, he pushed his long sword forward and the sword tip touched Linghu Chong's skin.
"Linghu Chong is a man of high virtues. Even though death is my destiny today, there's no way I'll let myself die from these despicable Qingcheng people's swords," Linghu Chong thought to himself.
At the moment, he was completely enveloped by the forces from the three swords. If he tried to turn around, then instantly, one sword would penetrate his chest and the two other swords would cut into his lower abdomen. So he immediately let out a few loud laughs.
"Fine, I'll be on my knees!" he replied.
Bending his right knee slightly, Linghu Chong quickly retrieved the long sword on the table and gave it a swift swing behind his back. Instantaneously, the three hands of the Qingcheng apprentices were cut off from their wrists and fell to the ground together with their three long swords. Their faces turning completely pale, the three Qingcheng apprentices couldn't even believe their eyes. Only freezing there for a moment from panic, they finally remembered to leap back. One of the Qingcheng apprentice among the three was only about eighteen or nineteen years of age and instantly broke into a loud cry from the excruciating pain.
"Brother, it was you who wanted to kill me first!" Linghu Chong sighed.
"Excellent sword art!" Xiang Wentian cheered. But then he said, "The strength is too weak. Terrible inner strength!"
"It's not terrible inner strength; there's no inner strength at all," Linghu Chong replied with a grin.
Suddenly Xiang Wentian let out a loud shout, then dense clanking sounds from the iron chain followed – two men in black robes had leapt into the pavilion and launched a full out attack at him. One wielded a pair of wrought iron maces while the other one held a pair of iron plates in his hands – both men used weapons of the ultra heavy type. Sparks flew in all directions as the four pieces of weaponry clashed with Xiang Wentian's iron chain. Xiang Wentian dodged a few times in an attempt to get behind the man with iron maces, but the man put up a good defense line with his two maces, s.h.i.+elding all his vital points around his body. Having his two hands tied up in the iron chain, Xiang Wentian obviously had lost quite some agility and speed.
More berating shouts rose exploded from within the crowd of the Demon's Cult members as another two men charged into the pavilion. Both of these two used octagonal copper hammers as their weapons and both smashed their hammers downwardly at Xiang Wentian again and again. As soon as the two with four hammers joined the fight, the man wielding a pair of wrought iron maces immediately turned from defense to offense. Xiang Wentian ducked and darted within the limited s.p.a.ce; even though his movements were utterly clever and nimble, he still could not injure any one of his opponents. Every time when there was a crack for Xiang Wentian to take use of, as soon as he tried to exploit it and attacked one with his iron chain, the other three would throw themselves on him like mad men with no regard of their own safety. Such fighting techniques were as fierce as it could be.
After they have exchanged a dozen or so moves, the leader of the Demon's Cult crowd shouted, "Eight spears, charge, all together!"
At that command, long spears in their tight grips, eight men in black robes rushed into the pavilion from all four directions. North, south, east and west, two long spears in each direction, all aimed at Xiang Wentian.
"Little friend, you'd better get out of here!" Xiang Wentian shouted at Linghu Chong. Before his voice even died out, the eight long spears had stabbed toward him all at once; in the meantime, the four copper hammers pounded toward his chest and stomach, the two iron maces swept toward his s.h.i.+nbones, and the two iron plates smashed toward his face – all vicious moves in all directions. At the moment, the twelve first-cla.s.s fighters of the Demon's Cult had spared neither effort nor mercy; apparently every one of them knew too well that fighting Xiang Wentian was the most dangerous thing in the entire world, and any second longer the fight lasted would only translate to another step closer to the gate of h.e.l.l.
"How shameless!" seeing the many people attacking Xiang Wentian so ruthlessly and the chance for Xiang Wentian to come through with this getting slimmer by the second, Linghu Chong bawled.
All of a sudden, Xiang Wentian spun his body in tremendous speed, and the iron chain around his wrists swung up and clanked loudly as it collided with the many weapons. His body almost looked like a peg-top, spinning so rapidly that all everyone could see was a white blurry shadow. Two loud clanks exploded when his iron chain collided with the two iron plates, sending them flying out of the pavilion through the top, leaving two big holes in the ceiling. By then, Xiang Wentian didn't even bother looking at the moves of his opponents and simply spin faster and faster, knocking the eight long spears away from him.
"Slow down your attack and let him exhaust himself!" the Demon Cult leader ordered.
"Yes!" the eight spear-wielding men answered all together and then each took two steps back, waiting for the chance of another full out attack when Xiang Wentian would show cracks in his defense s.h.i.+eld from any slight exhaustion.
Among the watching audiences, the ones who had a little bit of experience could all tell that Xiang Wentian would not spin like this for very long no matter how extraordinary his Kung Fu skills were. Continue fighting like this, Xiang Wentian would only end up exhausting all his strength and wait for capture with tied hands.
Xiang Wentian broke into loud laughter. Suddenly, he squatted slightly and struck out with the iron chain. The end of the iron chain hit one of the men wielding copper hammers right in the waist. The man cried out loud in pain, and the copper hammer in his left hand swung back toward himself and smashed his own head. The eight spearmen thrust their spears out in unison, attacking all around Xiang Wentian's body. Xiang Wentian swung his iron chain and knocked two spears out of the way, while the other six spears stabbed toward the right side of his rib cage as though agreed upon beforehand. At the instant, even if Xiang Wentian could dodge the first spear, he would not be able to dodge the second one, or even if Xiang Wentian could manage to dodge the second spear, there was no way for him to dodge the third one, much less when there were a total of six spears thrust at him at the same time.
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Watching by the side, Linghu Chong saw the simultaneous stabs from the six spears and knew that Xiang Wentian had no chance of dodging them. Before he knew it, he was seized by a sudden impulse and remembered the fourth stance of the Dugu Nine Swords, Spear-breaking Stance. The extremely critical situation did not allow him to think any further; with a cold flash, he thrust out his long sword. A loud clank echoed as the eight spears fell to the floor. There were eight spears falling down to the floor, yet there was only one clank, as though the eight spears had fallen to the floor at the exactly moment. Since the move from Linghu Chong was aimed at eight different wrists, of course it could not hit eight wrists at the exact instant, but the thrust was so fast that it almost felt as though the thrust prodded all eight wrists simultaneously.
Once the sword moves started, Linghu Chong simply followed the flow and launched the fifth move, Mace-breaking Stance. The name "Mace-breaking Stance" was a general t.i.tle and contained many variations of techniques. It can be used to counter short handled weapons ranging from steel club, iron mace, acupoint-sealing peg, judge's-pens, crutches, Emei sting, dagger, war axe, iron plate, octagonal hammer, and iron awl. After a few quick flashes, the two iron maces and the two copper hammers also fell to the floor. Out of the total of twelve Demon's Cult members charging into the pavilion, except one that had been killed by Xiang Wentian and one whose iron plates had been knocked out of his grips, the rest ten men all took a prod on their wrists and dropped their weapons. After a cry in panic, the eleven men ran back to their own crowd in a fl.u.s.ter while the crowd of orthodox school members couldn't help but cheer loudly.
"Excellent sword art!"
"The sword art of the Huashan School has really widened our views!"
The Demon Cult leader gave another command and a group of five charged into the pavilion at once – a middle-aged woman wielding two long knives came running directly toward Linghu Chong and the other four men began attacking Xiang Wentian in a circle. The woman's knife moves were extremely speedy. She had one knife in defense and one knife in quick offense. When the left knife was attacking, she would use the right knife to defend, and vise versa, when the right knife was attacking, she would use the left knife to defend. So by using both knives, every move was attacking the enemy while every move was also defending herself. The defense was tight and secure while the attack was vivid and through. Linghu Chong couldn't see the moves clearly and had to take four steps back in a row. Then he heard loud swoos.h.i.+ng sounds. It looked as though someone was attacking Xiang Wentian with a flexible weapon. While busying himself in dodging the chops from the woman, Linghu Chong still managed to take a peer with a squint. What he saw were two men, each wielding a chained mallet, and two men using whips in a fierce fight with Xiang Wentian, who still only had the iron chains around his wrists. The steel chain on a chained mallet was very long, and when one swung the chained mallet, it could reach up to ten feet away. For several times, the mallet actually flew over Linghu Chong's head only a few feet above him.
"Dammit!" Xiang Wentian cursed.
"Right Counselor Xiang, pardon me!" a man yelled in reply.
Turned out that the iron chain around Xiang Wentian's wrists had been entwined with the steel chain from one of the chained mallet. And in a snap of a second, the other three weapons from the rest three attackers struck at Xiang Wentian's body concurrently. Xiang Wentian sneered. He pulled with tremendous force, pulling the man wielding the chained mallet right in front of him just in time, and the two whips together with the second chained mallet all landed squarely on the man's back.
Linghu Chong thrust his sword out in a tilted angle, and the sword tip drifted a few times before hitting the woman's left wrist. But the blade of the sword actually bent into an arc with a loud clang, and instead of falling out of the grip from the woman's hand, the long knife chopped right back at Linghu Chong from sideways.
Linghu Chong felt a shock, but soon understood, "She is wearing a wrist cuff made of steel. That's why the sword tip could not cut through it."
Rotating his wrist slightly, he turned the thrust into an upward poke. Thud! The sword tip pierced the Jian-Zhen Acupoint on the woman's left shoulder. The woman froze for a split second, but being a bold and tough fighter, she still slashed the knife in her right hand with all her strength despite the great pain coming from her left shoulder. Linghu Chong snapped his wrist gently and with a quick flash, the woman's Jian-Zhen Acupoint on her right shoulder was also hit and she could no longer hold on to her weapons. She used all her remaining strength to throw the two knives at Linghu Chong, but her two arms had already lost most of their strengths; the two knives only went as far as a little bit over one foot before losing their momentum and falling to the floor.
