The Smiling, Proud Wanderer 36 Chapter Nineteen: The Wager Part 2

"Fourth Master must be joking! Aside from the skills in sword arts, the four masters of the Plum Manor are invincible in any other kind of Kung Fu. I, Tong Huajin, am just a n.o.body. How could I ever be compared to the Fourth Master?" Xiang Wentian replied.

"Why did you say 'aside from the skills in sword arts'? Are you so sure that my swordsmans.h.i.+p is not up to his?" Mr. Paint pulled a long face.

"Two Masters, what do you think of this work of calligraphy?" Xiang Wentian let out a slight smile and then unrolled the other scroll, which turned out to be a piece of Crazy Gra.s.s[13] style calligraphy with extremely cursive scripts.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Mr. Paint cried out in surprise. After the three "oh" he suddenly shouted out at the top of his lungs, "Third Brother! Third Brother! The treasure of your life is here!"

The shout was so loud and explosive that even the walls, the windows and the door jolted while dusts on top of the rafters and beams on the ceiling began falling. Additionally, the shout was so sudden that Linghu Chong was completed astounded.

"What's the fuss?" a man asked from a distance.

"If you don't hurry up to take a look, once they put it away, you are gonna regret it for the rest of your life!" Mr. Paint shouted.

"You've found another counterfeit calligraphy work, haven't you?" the man outside replied.

The portiere was raised and a man stepped into the room. This was a short and stout man, the top of his head completely bald without a single hair, which s.h.i.+ned profusely under the light as though it had been polished. There was a big brush in his right hand and there were ink marks all over his robe. He walked closer to take a look at the calligraphy work, and suddenly, his eyes became wide open and he began breathing heavily.

"This…this is authentic! It really…really…is the 'Willful Book' by Zhang Xu of the Tang Dynasty. It can't…can't…can't be fake!" he muttered, his voice trembling.

The strokes of the Gra.s.s Style writing on the paper appeared unrestrained and extensive, as though a Kung Fu master was performing the martial arts of Qing-Gong, leaping up sometimes and bending low some other times, swift in the movement, yet exquisite in the poise.

Out of each ten characters, Linghu Chong could only recognize one at his best. But the many stamps of seals and postscripts at the bottom of the calligraphy book easily convinced him that this calligraphy artwork was no trivial matter.

"This is my third brother Mr. Bald-Brush," Mr. Paint introduced. "He picked this name because calligraphy is his ultimate pa.s.sion and thousands of writing brushes had turned bald in his hands from practicing. It is not because he is baldheaded. Please don't confuse one with the other."

"Got it!" Linghu Chong acknowledged with a smile.

Reaching out with his right index finger, the man named Mr. Bald-Brush stared at the "Willful Book" and began writing in the air following the ticks and strokes in the calligraphy work, his mind completely imbedded in his own world. Not only didn't he cast a single glance toward Xiang Wentian or Linghu Chong, apparently he didn't even hear a word from Mr. Paint's introduction.

Suddenly, Linghu Chong felt a shock in his heart. "Brother Xiang must have planned this way beforehand. When I first met him in the roadside pavilion, he was already carrying this package behind his back," he thought to himself. But then he had a second though. "At that time, the package did not necessarily contain those two scrolls. Maybe, along our journey, in order to get the four Masters of the Plum Manor to treat my injury, he went outside and bought them, or even stole or s.n.a.t.c.hed them, when I was resting in the inn. Hmm, he most likely stole them. Where can he find such invaluable artwork for sale anywhere?"

He could hear the slight sound made by strong energy force tearing through air when that Mr. Bald-Brush wrote in the air with his finger. The powerful internal strength shown was in par with that of Mr. Black-White. "My internal injury was caused by the Peach Valley's Six Fairies and Great Master No Commandment," he thought. "It seems that the internal strength cultivation of the three Plum Manor Masters is no less than that of the Peach Valley's Six Fairies and Great Master No Commandment. The first Plum Manor Master might be even more powerful. Together with Brother Xiang, all five of them working together, they perhaps can heal my injury. I certainly hope it would not cost them great inner energy exhaustion."

Xiang Wentian did not wait for Mr. Bald-Brush to finish. He quickly rolled the "Willful Book" back into a scroll and put it back into the package.

Mr. Bald-Brush stared at Xiang Wentian in great disbelief. After a long while, he finally said, "What do you want in exchange?"

"I don't want to exchange it for anything." Xiang Wentian shook his head.

"How about the twenty-eight moves of Stone-Drum[14] Acupoint-Hitting Brush Kung Fu?" Mr. Bald-Brush proposed.

"No!" Mr. Black-White and Mr. Paint shouted in chorus.

"Yes! Why not? If I could use it in exchange for this genuine Crazy Gra.s.s work of Zhang Xu, why should I feel pity for losing my Stone-Drum Acupoint-Hitting Brush Kung Fu?" Mr. Bald-Brush disagreed.

"No!" Xiang Wentian shook his head once again.

"Then why did you show it to me?" Mr. Bald-Brush asked anxiously.

"Well, my mistake then. Third Master, just pretend you have never seen it before," Xiang Wentian answered.

"But I have seen it. How can I just pretend I have never seen it?" Mr. Bald-Brush rejected.

"If Third Master really wants to acquire this genuine work of Zhang Xu, it's not difficult at all. All you have to do is to accept our wager," Xiang Wentian said.

"What's the wager?" Mr. Bald-Brush asked hurriedly.

"Third Brother," Mr. Paint cut in, "this mister here is a little bit out of his mind. He wants to make a wager that no one in our Plum Manor could beat the sword arts of this friend Feng from the Huashan School."

"What if someone could beat his sword arts? What then?" Mr. Bald-Brush asked.

"If someone in the Plum Manor, regardless of whom, can beat my Brother Feng's long sword, then I'll give this genuine 'Willful Book' of Zhang Xu away to the Third Master for free, and leave that authentic painting by Fan Kuan, 'Traveler in Mount Brook', to Fourth Master as a gift. I'll also write down the twenty famous Go games played by fairies, ghosts, and immortals that I've memorized and give them to the Second Master," Xiang Wentian explained.

"How about our Big Brother? What are you giving to him?" Mr. Bald-Brush asked.

"I have this music score of the 'Guang-Ling Song'. Maybe the First Master…."

"Guang-Ling Song?" the three Masters of the Plum Manor cried out all together before Xiang Wentian even finished his sentence.

Linghu Chong also felt a shock. "Wasn't it Elder Qu who found the 'Guang-Ling Song' music score after digging through numerous ancient tombs and composed it into the 'Smiling Proud Wanderer' song? Where did Brother Xiang get it?" he couldn't help but ponder. Then he realized, "Brother Xiang was the Right Counselor of the Demon's Cult, and Elder Qu was an Elder of the Demon's Cult. They were probably on friendly terms with each other. And when Elder Qu got hold of this music score, in the great joy, he of course would tell Brother Xiang about it. If Brother Xiang had wanted to borrow it and make a copy, Elder Qu, for sure, wouldn't have any problem with it." At the thought that the music score was still present while the founder had perished, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

"Ever since Ji Kang died, the 'Guang-Ling Song' had been lost forever. Brother Tong, aren't these words of yours a bit deceitful?" Mr. Bald-Brush shook his head in disbelief.

"I have an intimate friend, who is obsessed with zither music. He said that everybody believes that after Ji Kang died, there is no more 'Guang-Ling Song' under the sun. Undoubtedly, this music score had fallen into oblivion after the Western Jin Dynasty, but what about before the Western Jin Dynasty?" Xiang Wentian grinned.

Mr. Bald-Brush and the other two Masters glanced at each other blankly; none could understand what Xiang Wentian's words meant.

"This friend of mine possesses extraordinary mentalities. Furthermore, he is not the kind who s.h.i.+es from committing all kinds of outrages. So he began excavating in famous Pre-Jin Dynasty zither players' tombs. A willful man will have his way. After digging through dozens of ancient tombs, he finally found the music score ma.n.u.scripts in the tomb of Cai Yi, the famous musician of the Eastern Han Dynasty."

Both Mr. Bald-Brush and Mr. Paint let out a slight cry of surprise. Mr. Black-White nodded slowly and exclaimed, "Intelligent and courageous! Extraordinary!"

Xiang Wentian opened his package and then took out a booklet with the words "Guang-Ling Song Music Score" written on the cover. He turned a few pages through it casually. Sure enough, it had music notes recorded in it.

"Brother Feng," Xiang Wentian said after he handed the booklet to Linghu Chong, "if anyone in the Plum Manor beats your sword arts, please give this music score to the First Master of the Plum Manor."

Linghu Chong took the booklet and placed it into his chest pocket. "This could have been Elder Qu's relic. Since Elder Qu has pa.s.sed away, what's so difficult if Brother Xiang wanted to pick out the music score, himself?" he thought to himself.

"Brother Feng, here, is well accomplished in the art of wine; his sword skills must be just as excellent. But he is only a young man; it's hardly possible that within our Plum Manor…hha, isn't that a bit ridiculous?" Mr. Paint grinned.

"If it is true that no one within our Plum Manor can overcome young hero Feng, what do we lose?" Mr. Black-White asked.

Although Linghu Chong had the agreement with Xiang Wentian beforehand that he would let Xiang arrange everything, he didn't expect things to turn out this way and felt that Xiang Wentian had gone a bit too far. Weren't they here to ask for a healing treatment? How could they be so arrogant and belittling the hosts so much? Besides, he had lost all his inner strength. How could he be a match for these very capable masters of the Plum Manor? At that thought, he opened his mouth.

"Brother Tong always likes to make jokes. How dare I, an insignificant junior who lags greatly behind in the understanding of martial arts, deliberate sword arts and exchange moves with the Masters of the Plum Manor?"

"These polite remarks are, of course, necessary; otherwise people would have called you a conceited swordsman," Xiang Wentian said.

Mr. Bald-Brush didn't seem to have heard any of these words, instead, he muttered, "'Three drinks turns Zhang Xu into Sage of Gra.s.s; baring his head before n.o.bility he showed no cla.s.s; wielding his writing brush he pours clouds onto papers in a blast.' Second Brother, Zhang Xu was known as the Sage of Gra.s.s, the ultimate master in Gra.s.s Style calligraphy. This is how Du Fu wrote about him in the poem 'Eight Drinking Saints Song'. He was also one of the 'Eight Drinking Saints'. Just by looking at the 'Willful Book' you can probably imagine how he waved his writing brush about after drinking to his heart's content. Well, it is so powerful and unstrained like a heavenly steed soaring across the skies. Just Brilliant! Just Brilliant!"

"Yep! If he likes to drink, then he must be an awesome guy, and of course the stuff he writes can't be bad at all," Mr. Paint agreed.

"Han Yu[15] also wrote about Zhang Xu in his poem: 'Joy, anger, shame, or uneasiness; depression, sorrow, happiness, or leisure; hatred or aspiration. Inebriated and tipsy, when discontent is felt in the heart, he let it flow through his writing brush in Gra.s.s Style.' This mister and we are just of the same kind. When discontent is felt in the heart, let it flow in writing the Gra.s.s Style, as if with a flick of the sword, happy we become!" Mr. Bald-Brush continued. Raising his finger once again, he began writing in the air. After a few strokes, he said to Xiang Wentian, "Hey, come on, let me take another look."

Xiang Wentian shook his head. "Once Third Master wins the contest, this calligraphy book would have become yours. There is no need to be impatient." He grinned.

Mr. Black-White was an export in gamesmans.h.i.+p and always had careful consideration of the overall situation. Before thinking about winning, he was already considering the consequences of a defeat.

"If on one within the Plum Manor could defeat Brother Feng's sword arts, what kind of stakes would we be losing?" he inquired again.

"We have come to the Plum Manor with no intent for any favor or any item. All Brother Feng wants is to come to the ultimate summit of world martial arts and have the opportunity to exchange the understandings of sword arts with the best martial artists in this world. If, with any luck, we end up winning the contest, we'll turn around and leave right away without asking for any stake from you," Xiang Wentian answered.

"I see. This Hero Feng has come for fame. Defeating the 'Four Playfellows of Jiangnan' in succession will, indeed, gain him great fame in the Martial World," Mr. Black-White said.

"Second Master, you've thought it wrong," Xiang Wentian replied as he shook his head. "After today's sword contest in the Plum Manor, regardless of who the winner is, if even one word about it leaks out, Brother Feng and I will stand condemned by Heaven, and we are no better than dog's droppings."

"Good, good! I like your frankness," Mr. Paint remarked. "This room here is very s.p.a.cious. Let me exchange a few moves with Brother Feng right here then. Brother Feng, where is your sword?"

"We are not bold enough to bring weapons to the Plum Manor," Xiang Wentian replied with a smile.

"Bring me two swords," Mr. Paint shouted out.

Someone answered from outside the room and soon Ding Jian and s.h.i.+ Lingwei returned, each holding a sword with both hands. Walking in front of Mr. Paint, they bowed and presented the swords. Picking up the sword from Ding Jian's hands, Mr. Paint said to s.h.i.+ Lingwei, "Give that sword to him."

"Yes," s.h.i.+ Lingwei acknowledged and then walked in front of Linghu Chong, holding the sword high with both hands.

Feeling very embarra.s.sed about this entire matter, Linghu Chong turned his head and glanced at Xiang Wentian.

"The Fourth Master of the Plum Manor has reached the acme in the understanding of sword arts. Brother Feng, even if you could only learn one move or one technique from him, you would still benefit from it the rest of your life," Xiang Wentian affirmed.

Linghu Chong knew that under the current circ.u.mstance, this sword contest had become inevitable. Having no other alternatives, he took the sword with both hands, bowing slightly.

"Hold it, Fourth Brother," Mr. Black-White spoke up suddenly. "This Brother Tong here has put up a wager that no one in our Plum Manor can defeat Brother Feng. Ding Jian also knows how to use a sword, and he is also part of the Plum Manor. You don't necessarily have to do it yourself." The more confident Xiang Wentian sounded, the more worried he became. So he decided to let Ding Jian take the challenge first and test the water. He knew that Ding Jian possessed excellent skills in sword arts; besides, Ding was only a servant in the Plum Manor. Even if Ding lost the fight, there would have been no harm done to the great name of the Plum Manor. And with this test, they would be able to tell how good or bad this Feng Er-Zhong's skills in sword arts actually were.

"Sure, sure! As long as a person from the Plum Manor defeats my Brother Feng's sword arts, it counts as our defeat. It doesn't have to be the four masters themselves. Brother Ding here has earned the nickname 'Straight Line Lightning Sword' in the Martial World. His sword moves are so fast. Such speed is rarely seen in the world. Brother Feng, it will be good for you if you check out Brother Ding's Straight Line Lightning Sword first." Xiang Wentian did not object.

Mr. Paint tossed his long sword toward Ding Jian. "If you lose, you'll be going to Turpan to transport wine for me as your punishment." He grinned.

Ding Jian caught the long sword with a blow and turned toward Linghu Chong. "Ding Jian here thanks Mister Feng for the chance of the sword match," he said. A short ring echoed as he drew his sword.

Linghu Chong also drew his sword and set the sheath on the stone table.

"Three Masters, Brother Ding, this is a contest of sword arts, so there's no need to compete in the inner strength department," Xiang Wentian spoke up again.

"Of course both sides will know when to stop," Mr. Black-White commented.

"Brother Feng," Xiang Wentian turned to Linghu Chong, "you have to promise to not use any inner strength in the match. We are having a contest of sword arts. The one with fine and intimate moves wins the match and the one with crude and sluggish moves loses it. The inner energy cultivation method of your Huashan School is very well-known in the Martial World. If you use your inner strength to achieve victory, then it counts as our defeat."

Linghu Chong almost laughed at these words. He thought to himself, "Brother Xiang knew very well that I don't have any bit of inner strength. He is using these words to trick them." So he said, "If I use my inner strength, for sure the three Masters, Brother Ding and Brother s.h.i.+ will laugh their teeth off. I certainly dare not to use any bit of it."

"We've come to the Plum Manor with complete sincerity. If Brother Feng keep sticking to etiquette and being too modest, that would be disrespectful to the four senior masters. Everyone in the Martial world knows that the 'Divine Art of Violet Twilight' of your Huashan School is far superior to the inner strength cultivation method of our Songshan School. Brother Feng, why don't you stand in these two footprints of mine when you spar with Brother Ding and make sure you don't move your feet?"

After these words, Xiang Wentian took a few steps aside, and two footprints, each almost two inches deep, appeared on two bricks on the floor. It turned out that while he was speaking he had s.h.i.+fted his inner strength to his feet and stamped two footprints on the bricks with shear force.

"Excellent Kung Fu!" Mr. Black-White, Mr. Bald-Brush, and Mr. Paint cheered in chorus.

Seeing how Xiang Wentian had s.h.i.+fted his inner strength to the bottom of his feet as he spoke without turning a hair, and there was not a single broken brick piece in the footprints he created, while the depth of the two footprints were exactly identical and the footprints were so smooth as though someone had carved it out carefully, they could tell that Xiang Wentian's inner strength had reached an incredible level, which was way above the inner strength level of their own. They all thought that Xiang Wentian was just showing off his inner strength. Although such an affected performance appeared shallow, not something a true martial arts master would have done, his amazing inner strength cultivation was still very admirable. None had a clue that Xiang Wentian actually had profound meaning in his action.

Linghu Chong had no problem understanding Xiang Wentian's behavior. Xiang had been propagating that his inner strength cultivation was superior to that of Xiang's. If Xiang's inner strength had been so extraordinary, then his could only have been more formidable, then when the match started, his opponents would not be bold enough to use inner strength against him, fearing of bringing disgrace to oneself. Besides, except for the skills in sword arts, he was no good in any other Kung Fu skills, and leaping and springing about were certainly not his good qualities. By standing in the two footprints and only use sword arts in the spar, he could easily hide his inadequacy.

When Ding Jian heard Xiang Wentian suggesting Linghu Chong to have the sword fight with him while standing still in the two footprints, he couldn't help but feel greatly annoyed by the obvious contempt. But the profound inner strength Xiang Wentian showed by leaving footprints on bricks also astounded him. "If they are bold enough to challenge our four Masters, they could not have been ordinary. If I can get a draw out of the fight, I would have made a great contribution to the Plum Manor of the Lone Hill," he thought to himself.

He used to be an extremely arrogant swordsman in former years, but later he encountered a very formidable enemy. He was taken prisoner and was put through many torments. Fortunately the "Four Playfellows of Jiangnan" rescued him and set him free. That was when he decided to join the Plum Manor and willingly took on the job of a servant. After so many years, the fierceness and boldness inside him had almost died out entirely.

"Brother Ding, please!" Linghu Chong stepped into the footprints made by Xiang Wentian and said with a smile.

"Please excuse my lack of manners," Ding Jian apologized. He brandished his long sword transversely and suddenly, a long, white flash shot across everyone's eyes like a lightning, accompanied by the slight sound of the blade cutting through the air.
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Although he had been living in seclusion in the Plum Manor for over ten years, his Kung Fu skills had not declined a bit. The sword art he used was named the "Straight Line Lightning Sword Art," and every time when a move in the sword art form was executed, it looked as though a lightning had just shot across the sky. The dazzling effect was so dramatic that it would have easily stunned the opponent and put fear in his heart. The formidable enemy that had once defeated him was a blind loner robber. Because the man was completely blind and used his hearing to detect Ding Jian's sword moves, the awe-inspiring atmosphere created by the "Straight Line Lightning Sword" had no effect on him. At this moment when he put the sword art to good use, suddenly, the entire room had been filled with dazzling lightning flares.

But only after the first move of the "Straight Line Lightning Sword" was put to display, Linghu Chong had identified three major flaws in the sword art. Ding Jian didn't rush with his attack and simply waved his sword about as though he was showing a good amount of manners to a guest of the manor when in truth, he really intended to dazzle and slacken Linghu Chong so he would not be able to withstand the sharp attacking moves following behind.

By the time Ding Jian was on his fifth move, Linghu Chong had already counted a total of eighteen flaws in his sword moves. "Excuse me," he said as he thrust his long sword out at an oblique angle.

At the moment Ding Jian was in the middle of sweeping his sword from the left to the right in a rapid swing. Although the blade of Linghu Chong's sword was still two feet and six inches from his wrist, but the swing would have sent his own wrist toward the naked blade, and since the sweep was too rapid and carried too much strength, it was already impossible to take it back.

"Look out!" the five bystanders called out in unison as if by prior agreement.

Mr. Black-White happened to be holding two game pieces, one black and one white, in his palm. Just when he was about to shoot them at Linghu Chong's long sword to save Ding Jian's hand from being cutting off, a thought popped into his head, "If I help Ding Jian out by interfering with the contest, that would make the fight two against one, then clearly the Plum Manor would have lost the match and there would be no need for any further contest." Amid his hesitancy, Dian Jian's wrist had swept toward the sword blade speedily while s.h.i.+ Lingwei uttered a loud cry of panic.

At the faction of the second, Linghu Chong turned his wrist gently, turning the blade of the sword sideways. With a light clap, Ding Jian's wrist hit the flat side of the sword, and to all the audiences' pleasant surprise, his wrist didn't suffer even the slightest damage. Only after a short daze did Ding Jian realize that his opponent had really shown great leniency. Within that fraction of a second, he had been fortunate enough to keep his hand. If his wrist had been cut, all his Kung Fu skills would have been ruined. Covered with cold sweat, he bowed down deeply.

"I am utterly grateful for the mercy Hero Feng has shown with his sword."

"I don't really deserve it!" Linghu Chong also bowed back.

Witnessing how Linghu Chong had turned his long sword to spare Ding Jian from bloodshed, Mr. Black-White, Mr. Bald-Brush, and Mr. Brush all felt their favor toward Linghu Chong growing rapidly. Mr. Paint poured a cup with wine and then raised it with both hands.

"Brother Feng, your sword skills are marvelous. Here's a toast for you!" he said.

"You flatter me!" Linghu Chong replied. Taking the wine cup from Mr. Paint, he drank it up.

Mr. Paint also drank a cup of wine in accompany. Filling the wine cup in Linghu Chong's hands again, he said, "Brother Feng, you are a man with great mercy and spared Ding Jian's hand. That calls for another toast."

"It was just a coincident. There's nothing to it," Linghu Chong answered and drank up his wine, holding the cup with both hands.

After drinking a cup in accompany, Mr. Paint filled the cup once again.

"Let's hold on to the third cup here, shall we? Let's have our play first, and whoever loses the match will have to drink the third cup as his penalty," he said.

"I'll be losing the match naturally. Why don't I drink it first?" Linghu Chong showed a big grin.

"No hurry! No hurry!" Mr. Paint shook his hand in disapproval. Setting the wine cup onto the stone table, he grabbed the long sword from Ding Jian's hands. "Brother Feng, you go first."

At the time of the first two cups of wine, Linghu Chong had already been deliberating inwardly, "He claims that he is addicted to, firstly, the art of wine, secondly, the art of painting, and thirdly, the art of sword, then his skills in the sword art had to be very exceptional. Judging from that celestial beings painting of his at the reception hall, the strokes are no doubt swift and fierce, however, it seems that he had some problem discipline himself. If his sword moves are comparable to his painting techniques, then they must have many flaws." Bowing down respectfully, he said, "Fourth Master, I beg for your clemency."

"Don't be too modest. Go ahead, show your moves," Mr. Paint said.

"Yes!" Linghu Chong answered.

Raising his long sword, he thrust it at Mr. Paint's shoulder. The thrust was both skewed and tremulous. It obviously carried no strength, nor did it follow any methodical sword art principles. There simply could not have had a sword move like this amongst all possible sword arts in the entire world.

"What the hack is this?" Mr. Paint cried out, astounded.

Since he knew that Linghu Chong was a member of the Huashan Sword School, he had been pondering over the many sword art forms of the Huashan School in his mind. Who would have thought that when the first move was shown, it was nothing like it? Not only wasn't it a move from the Huashan Style Sword Arts, it couldn't even be called a sword move.

Ever since Linghu Chong studied the art of sword from Feng Qingyang, he not only learned the world-prominent "Dugu Nine Swords," but also grasped "overcoming a move without a move" the ultimate gist in the art of sword. This gist and the theory behind the "Dugu Nine Swords" supplement each other. Though the profoundness and subtlety of the "Dugu Nine Swords" had reached the extreme as a sword art form, it contained moves and techniques after all, which were still traceable. But once one applied the principle of "overcoming a move without a move" to it, it became even more volatile and unpredictable, leaving no mark for the opponent to fathom. Therefore, when Linghu Chong made the thrust, Mr. Paint was immediately stunned, not knowing what would be the right way to block it using his own sword. Very confused, he took two paces back to dodge it.

When Linghu Chong made Ding Jian threw down his sword and gave in with only one move, although Mr. Black-White and Mr. Bald-Brush both praised Linghu Chong's sword skills inwardly, neither of them found the result surprising, thinking that if he was bold enough to challenge the Plum Manor, it would have been ridiculous if he couldn't even defeat a servant of the Plum Manor. After seeing how Mr. Paint was forced to retreat two steps by his first thrust, they found themselves astounded.

After retreating two paces back, Mr. Paint charged two paces forward right away. Linghu Chong sent another thrust out with his long sword, this time aiming at the upper left side of Mr. Paint's body. This thrust was, again, just a random thrust that did not follow any of the general sword art principles. Mr. Paint wanted to fend it off with a side swing of his sword, but before the two swords even collided, he immediately realized that the opponent's sword tip had s.h.i.+fted into a slanting angle pointing toward the lower right costal region, which was wide open, and if the opponent took advantage of this weakness in defense, the situation would be beyond redemption. That meant the block would be very unwise. In desperation, he changed his move instantly. With a quick push to the ground, he sprang backward over ten feet.

"Excellent sword skills!" he shouted out and charged forward once again without any delay. Putting his entire weight behind the sword, he drove the blade toward Linghu Chong in great speed. This was a thrust with overwhelming power.

Noticing an obvious flaw at Mr. Paint's bending right arm, Linghu Chong swung the long sword in no time and chopped toward his right elbow. If Mr. Paint did not change his move midway, then his right elbow would be cut off before he could incur any damage to his opponent. But Mr. Paint was a true swordsman with great skills. In the great hurry, he quickly lowered his wrist and thrust his sword at the floor. Relying on the counterforce from the floor, he flipped backward and landed steadily in over twenty feet. At the time his back was only a few inches from the wall. If he had used a little bit more strength when he executed the back flip, his back would have collided with the wall, which would have undoubtedly put a big dent on his reputation as a Martial Arts Grandmaster. But even so, the escape was simply too awkward, and his face showed some slight purplish red from the rush.

Being an open-minded and generous person, Mr. Paint laughed out, instead. Raising his left thumb, he uttered, "Excellent sword skills!" Waving his long sword vigorously, he launched a move "White Aurora Shooting the Sun," which was then changed to "Willow Wickers Fluttering in the Spring Breeze," which in turn changed to the "Mounting Flood-Dragon and the Soaring Phoenix." The three moves were completed without any letup. It looked as though he didn't ever move his feet, but once the three moves were executed, the tip of his long sword had reached Linghu Chong's face.

Linghu Chong tilted his sword and smacked down gently, the flat side of his sword pus.h.i.+ng down against the middle ridge of Mr. Paint's long sword. The gentle smack was executed with such accuracy in its positioning and timing. At that exact moment when Mr. Paint thrust his sword forward, his strength and energy were all concentrating on the tip of the sword, and the middle ridge of the sword carried no strength at all. As a light clank echoed, the long sword in his hand sank helplessly. Linghu Chong snapped his wrist gently and sent his long sword forward, pointing directly at Mr. Paint's solar plexus.

"Ah!" Mr. Paint cried out and leapt to the left. Folding his left hand into a sword finger form, he charged forward, waving the long sword in his right hand fiercely. This time he resorted to forceful hacks and chops, bringing his sword swis.h.i.+ng down through the air. "Watch out!" he shouted.

He didn't really want to injure Linghu Chong. But this strike named "Jade Dragon Hanging Upside Down" was extremely swift and fierce. If the opponent had overlooked it and he couldn't rein in his own force in time, he was afraid that the strike might actually wound the opponent.

"Got it!" Linghu Chong acknowledged as he poked his long sword upward. With a slight rustle, the edge of his sword sliced upward right next to the side of Mr. Paint's sword.

If Mr. Paint followed through with the sword strike, before his blade could reach Linghu Chong's head, his five fingers holding his long sword would have been sliced off first. As he watched his opponent's long sword sliding upward against his own blade, a move that could not be countered, having no other alternative, he struck down heavily with his left palm. The energy shot out from his palm hit the floor with a loud boom, and utilizing the counterforce, he leapt backward and landed over ten feet away.

Before he even recomposed to a firm stance, he had drew three circles in front of him with his long sword, which magically changed into three circles of light. The three circles of light looked as though they'd actually materialized. After freezing in the air for a moment, they began moving toward Linghu Chong gradually. At the first look, these sword energy turned circles of light did not appear as swift or fierce as the "Straight Line Lightning Sword," but the energy released easily filled the entire room and everyone felt the chilling force coming from them.

Linghu Chong extended his long sword and then sliced out from the left side of the light circle with an inclined angle, which was exactly an energy gap when the power from Mr. Paint's first move was just about to die and the power from the second move was just about to be released.

"Oh?" Mr. Paint uttered and retreated. The light circles made from the sword energy also retreated together with him. But all of a sudden, the light circles shrank briefly before growing into enormous shapes rapidly and gus.h.i.+ng speedily toward Linghu Chong.

Linghu Chong shook his wrist and thrust out his long sword; once again, with another cry of surprise, Mr. Paint leapt away in a hurry.

Thus with numerous quick charging forwards and quick retreats, within moments, Mr. Paint had attacked with eleven moves and retreated eleven times. By then, the reflections from his sword had grown severely from the accelerated attacks and painted a layer of blue on his face. His beard and mustache also looked as though they were all standing on their ends from the tense atmosphere. Amid a loud roar from Mr. Paint, dozens of light circles, some big and some small, shot toward Linghu Chong at the same time. This was the very peak of perfection in his sword art, with which he had combined dozens of sword moves into one. Every single one out of the dozens of sword moves contained fierce killer techniques, and each move had several variations. Once combined, the complexity was simply unrivaled.

Resisting complexity with simplicity, Linghu Chong squatted slightly and prodded his sword tip up from under the dozens of light circles, pointing directly at Mr. Paint's lower stomach. With another loud cry, Mr. Paint leapt backward with all his strength. "Bang!" he sat heavily on the stone table from the fall. Next, several clatters echoed as the wine cups on the stone table fell to the floor from the sudden shake and smashed to pieces.

"Marvelous! Marvelous!" Mr. Paint broke into a loud laughter. "Brother Feng, your skills in the art of sword are much, much better than mine. Come, come, come! I propose three toasts for you!"

Mr. Black-White and Mr. Bald-Brush knew very well about their fourth brother's attainments in the art of sword. But without ever stepping out of the footprints made by Xiang Wentian, Linghu Chong successfully forced Mr. Paint back eighteen times during his sixteen attacking moves. The incredible sword skills Linghu Chong had shown were both admirable and frightening. Mr. Paint filled the wine cups and drank three cups together with Linghu Chong.

"Among the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan, my Kung Fu is the weakest. Although I admit my defeat, Second Brother and Third Brother won't admit theirs. Probably they'll want to check you out themselves," he said.

"We did exchanged many moves, but Fourth Master didn't lose in anyone of them, how can we conclude the match with a winner?" Linghu Chong disagreed.

"I lost after the first move. The rest seventeen moves were all unnecessary. Big Brother says that I need to improve my demeanor. He is absolutely right." Mr. Paint shook his head.

"Fourth Master's demeanor is in very high standard, just like your tolerance of wine is also in very high standard," Linghu Chong said with a smile.

"Yeah! Yeah! Let's drink some more!" Mr. Paint grinned.

Being a man who thought highly of himself in the art of sword, Mr. Paint didn't have a single trace of irritation after losing to a not well-known at all junior swordsman. The negligent and open-minded grace he had shown was undoubtedly first-cla.s.s. Both Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong felt great admiration for him.

"s.h.i.+, will you please go and get me my bald brush?" Mr. Bald-Brush said to s.h.i.+ Lingwei.

s.h.i.+ Lingwei answered and went out. Soon, he returned with a weapon and then presented the weapon to Mr. Bald-Brush with both hands respectfully.

Linghu Chong took at look at it, which turned out to be a Judge's Pen, one foot and six inches in length, cast in fine steel. The funny thing was that there was actually a bundle of wool, still with ink, tied to the end of the Judge's Pen, as though it was a real brush used for writing. For ordinary Judge's Pens, the head section was used to seal the enemy's Acupoints. But this pen here used the soft lamb wool as the pen's head. When it was used to strike people's Acupoints, how could it help in defeating the enemy in a real battle? Linghu Chong figured that Mr. Bald-Brush must know some special kind of Kung Fu; besides, he must possess very resourceful inner strength, so as soon as the inner energy is released, even lamb wool could be used to wound the enemy.

"Brother Feng, are you still going to stay in those two footprints?" taking the Judge's Pen into his hand, Mr. Bald-Brush asked with a grin.

Linghu Chong took two steps back at once. "I dare not! I am a junior asking pointers from a Senior Master, how dare I be overconfident?" He bowed.

"There you go!" Mr. Paint nodded. "When you had the sword contest with me, it was okay for you to stay put. But to fight my Third Brother, that wouldn't be wise."

Mr. Bald-Brush raised the Judge's Pen and smiled. "My stroke forms are all created from variations of famous calligraphy artists' masterpieces. Brother Feng is a man well versed in both polite letters and martial arts. I am sure you can easily recognize the way of my Judge's Pen moves. Brother Feng is a good friend, therefore, I won't dip this bald brush in ink."

Linghu Chong was slightly taken aback, thinking to himself, "If he didn't consider me a good friend, then he would have dipped his brush in ink. What's going to happen if he does dip his brush in ink?"

He was unaware that the ink Mr. Bald-Brush dipped his brush in during real combats was actually made from stewing very special medicinal materials, and after the ink got on one's skin, the color would imprint deeply under the skin and could never be removed, whether by was.h.i.+ng or sc.r.a.ping with a knife. In the former years when Martial masters had fought the "Four Playfellows of Jiangnan," Mr. Bald-Brush had been the one giving them the most headaches. If anyone had not been extra careful, he would end up with a circle, a cross, or even a word or two written on his face by the Mr. Bald-Brush, and then the rest of his life would have been completed ruined. People would rather take a hack or even lose an arm than having him drawing things on the face. Only because Mr. Bald-Brush saw how Linghu Chong showed great leniency in his match against Ding Jian and Mr. Paint, had he decided to not dip his brush in ink.

Even though Linghu Chong had no idea what Mr. Bald-Brush had meant, he figured that it must have been some kind of good intention. So he bowed.

"Many thanks for the great kindness. Unfortunately I am not very literate; I am sure I won't be able to recognize Third Master's brush strokes."

Mr. Bald-Brush was slightly disappointed. "You don't know calligraphy?" he said. "Okay, let me explain it to you first. The stroke form I am about to use is called 'General Pei Poem,'[16] which transformed from Yan Zhenqing's[17] calligraphy book. There are a total of twenty-three characters, and each character contains between three and sixteen moves. Now listen carefully: 'General Pei! The great lord that ruled the Six Directions![18] The valiant general that guarded peace in the Nine Fields![19] His war-horse as valorous as the dragon or tiger, galloping above the high mound with grand and heroic spirit!'"

"Thanks for the guidance," Linghu Chong replied, but inwardly, he thought, "You can explain about the poem or the calligraphy all you want. I know nothing about them anyhow."

Mr. Bald-Brush swung the big pen and pecked three times toward Linghu Chong's left cheek. These were none other than the first three strokes of the character "Pei." These three pecks were actually fake moves. Raising his big pen high in the air, he was just about delineate down from the top, when Linghu Chong suddenly thrust his long sword out in a preemptive strike and stabbed toward his right shoulder. Mr. Bald-Brush was forced into holding his big pen crosswise to block the strike, but by then Linghu Chong had already retracted his sword. Their two weapons did not collide with each other; both moves turned out to be fakes. But Mr. Bald-Brush was only able to execute half of the first move of the "General Pei" form and couldn't complete it.

After blocking only to thin air, Mr. Bald-Brush immediately launched the second move. Before the head of the pen had a chance to strike forward, Linghu Chong had already thrust at another spot where he had no alternative but to defend. Without delay, Mr. Bald-Brush swung his pen backward to fend it off, but Linghu Chong had retracted his long sword once again, and Mr. Bald-Brush's second wave terminated again only half way through.

Right from the beginning, Mr. Bald-Brush's two moves were both interrupted midway through. Not able to complete the pen form he was very proud of, Mr. Bald-Brush couldn't help but feel quite annoyed, as though a calligrapher had just picked up his brush to write, but only a few strokes into it, a naughty kid began catching his penholder or pulling his arms, and prevented him from finis.h.i.+ng writing a character smoothly.

"I have already read the entire poem of 'General Pei Poem' to him beforehand. He knows the order of my strokes and is able to predict my moves and stop me ahead of time. I'd better not follow the order of the characters with my later moves," Mr. Bald-Brush thought inwardly. After a fake dot, the big pen curved downward from the upper right corner to the lower left corner with abundant strength, writing the character "As" in the Gra.s.s Style. But Linghu Chong quickly pushed his long sword forward and pointed at his right rib cage. Astounded, Mr. Bald-Brush reversed the movement of the Judge's Pen and smash it toward Linghu Chong's long sword. Who would have expected that this stab of Linghu Chong's was not a real stab? All he really did was just showing the posture, but once again, Mr. Bald-Brush was only able to execute half of his move. With this Gra.s.s Style stroke, he had put out a great amount of energy and strength. When suddenly the movement was redirected, not only did the stroke become stagnant, his internal strength was also forced to reroute, which stirred up quite some energy disruption inside his lower stomach and caused indescribable discomfort.

After taking a deep breath, he waved his Judge's Pen rapidly in an attempt to finish the "Galloping" move, but only half way into it, he was forced to retract his Judge's Pen in defense by Linghu Chong's attack just as usual.

Mr. Bald-Brush was greatly irritated. "Hey chap! Stop putting sand in the wheels!" he bellowed as he accelerated his Judge's Pen's movement. But no matter how he sprang left and right transforming his moves, he was only able to write up to the second stroke with each character before being forced to stop by Linghu Chong's sword strikes.

Mr. Bald Brush uttered a loud roar, and suddenly the writing style changed completely. Before, the flow of the strokes was free and unrestrained; now the strokes turned thick and heavy, with the vigor pa.s.sing through the center while the cutting edge appeared bl.u.s.tering and aggressive. The strokes looked straightforward yet grand at the same time.

Linghu Chong of course had no way of knowing that this stroke form was inspired by the calligraphy book "Mount Bameng Maxim" written by the famous Shu General Zhang Fei,[20] but he also noticed the dramatic change in the writing style. He couldn't care for less as to what move his opponent was using, and every time as soon as he saw the Judge's Pen move, he would attack its flaw.

Mr. Bald-Brush croaked in frustration, but regardless of his movements, he was only able to execute half of his move and never succeeded in completing the full move.

Suddenly, Mr. Bald-Brush's writing style changed again and began writing the Gra.s.s Style in "Huai Su Self-Stating Book"[21] Now the strokes flutters in all directions and the flow of the writing became much unpredictable.

"Huai Su's Gra.s.s Style calligraphy, by itself, was already very difficult to read. Now I am adding even more Gra.s.s Scripts to the Gra.s.s Style, I bet this chap won't be able to recognize this self-made Gra.s.s Scripts of mine," he thought to himself.

How could he have known that Linghu Chong couldn't even read many characters written in the square-shaped regular scripts, not mentioning the unrestrained Gra.s.s Scripts? He had a.s.sumed that the only reason Linghu Chong succeeded in predicting his movement and stopping him ahead of time was because Linghu Chong had been able to read his writing, when in fact all Linghu Chong saw in his eyes were weapon moves and forms, and his successful striking to the cracks all attributed to attacking the flaws in the opponent's moves.

Even with the Crazy Gra.s.s Style, Mr. Bald-Brush still could only go as far as half a move with each of his moves. Feeling the indignation growing rapidly inside his chest, he suddenly shouted out loudly.

"No more fight! No more fight!"

Leaping backward, he picked up that barrel of grape wine Mr. Paint had brought along and poured the wine onto the stone table. Dipping his big pen in the wine, he began writing on the white wall, and it was none other that "General Pei Poem." All twenty-three characters appeared full of pa.s.sion, especially the character "As," which looked as though it could have flown off the wall any minute.

After finis.h.i.+ng off the writing, Mr. Bald-Brush finally let out a breath of relief. Turning his head sideways slightly, he admired the large characters on the white wall in dark red color, and laughed out loudly.

"Wonderful! Among my life-long artworks, this one is the finest," he concluded.

The more he looked at it, the prouder he became.

"Second Brother, can I take this game room from you? I'd hate to part with this calligraphy work. I am afraid that I'll never be able to write anything as good in the rest of my life," he requested.

"Fine," Mr. Black-White answered. "Other that the stone table, there's nothing else in this room anyway. Even if you don't want it, I'd have to move all the same. How can I ever focus on the game of go while facing the vigorous calligraphy of yours everyday?"

Mr. Bald-Brush stared at the several lines of calligraphy and wagged his head back and forth, feeling very pleased of himself.

"Even if the revered Mr. Yan was reborn, I am afraid he wouldn't be able to write something like this," he praised himself. Turning his head toward Linghu Chong, he said, "Hey buddy! It all thanks to you for keeping my ardors inside my belly until it was filled to the point of bursting, and then all of a sudden, they poured out from my heart through my hand and enabled me to create such splendid and unparalleled work under heaven. Your sword skills are excellent, and my calligraphy skills are also excellent. This is called each has his specialty and no winner can be claimed in this match."

"Exactly! Each has his specialty and no winner can be claimed in this match," Xiang Wentian agreed.

"Moreover, it was also because of my excellent wine!" Mr. Paint added.

"This Third Brother of mine is as innocent and artless as a child. Please note that he is simply crazy about calligraphy; it's not that he does not admit he had lost the match." Mr. Black-White explained.

"I understand," Xiang Wentian answered. "The wager is that no one in the Plum Manor can beat Brother Feng's sword art anyway, so as long as no winner can be claimed, we don't lose our wager."

"That's correct!" Mr. Black-White nodded.

Reaching under the stone table, Mr. Black-White drew a square-shaped iron board from underneath. The iron board had nineteen horizontal lines and nineteen vertical lines engraved onto it. Turned out this was a game board cast in iron. Holding a corner of the iron game board, he said, "Brother Feng, let me using this game board as my weapon to check out your brilliant moves."

"I've heard that Second Master's game board is a magical treasure item that can control many kinds of weapons and projectiles," Xiang Wentian said.

Mr. Black-White cast a long glance at him and then replied, "Brother Tong certainly has wide learning and a retentive memory. Very admirable! Very admirable! In fact, this weapon of mine is no magical item. It was made from magnets, so it would be able to attract game pieces made of iron, this way when I played games with other people while boarding boats or on horsebacks in former years, the game pieces would stay and allow us to continue with the game."

"I see," Xiang Wentian answered.

Hearing these words, Linghu Chong thought to himself, "Luckily Brother Xiang gave me the pointer ahead of time, otherwise, my long sword would have been attracted to his game board right from the start, and I'd have lost the match without the real fight. When I spar with this person, I have to make sure that I don't let his game board touch my long sword." At that thought, he pointed his long sword to the floor and then cupped his hands in salute.

"Second Master, thanks for giving me the opportunity to ask advice from you."

"I dare not. Brother Feng's understanding in the art of sword is brilliant. I have never seen extraordinary sword skills in my life. Please start!" Mr. Black-White said.

With a random slice Linghu Chong let his long sword wiggled in the air following an squiggly line.

"What kind of sword move is this?" Mr. Black-White hesitated for a fraction of a second. Seeing that the tip of the sword quickly approaching his own throat, he swung his game board and blocked. But Linghu Chong had redirected the stab and thrust his long sword toward his right shoulder. Without much thinking, Mr. Black-White moved the game board and blocked again. Before the long sword even approached the game board, Linghu Chong had retracted it and thrust it at Mr. Black-White's lower stomach instead, which Mr. Black-White blocked once again.

"If I don't counter attack, how do I take over the initiative?" Mr. Black-White thought inwardly.

In the game of go, it is very important to control the initiative of the game; in a martial arts compet.i.tion, it is also critical to control the initiative. As an expert in the gamesmans.h.i.+p, Mr. Black-White of course was very familiar with this idea, so not wasting another moment, he raised his game board and pounded it toward Linghu Chong's right shoulder. The game board was about two feet wide and one inch thick. It was a very heavy piece of weapon. If it smashed into the long sword, even if the iron board didn't have magnetism, the long sword would still have been broken.

Turning his body slightly toward the side, Linghu Chong drove the sword toward the Mr. Black-White's lower rib cage. In Mr. Black-White's eyes, this thrust didn't look like a legitimate move at all, but the spot it was attacking certainly required attention. So he swung the game board in a tilted angle to knock toward the long sword and at the same time pushed the game board forward. This move "Big Hosi"[22] was one that contained counterattacking in the defending. If Linghu Chong had to respond to this move, then his following moves would pour out in a steady stream. Who would have thought that Linghu Chong paid no attention to his move? Jabbing his long sword with an angle, Linghu Chong had launched a forestalled attack. Thus, Mr. Black-White's defending move containing counterattacking function only had half the effect: the defending part worked but the counterattacking didn't.

Afterwards, one thrust after another, Linghu Chong attacked over forty times without any delay. Mr. Black-White blocked left and warded right and defended his front and protected his back, putting up a defense s.h.i.+eld so tight as though if one splashed water toward the s.h.i.+eld, not even a drop of water would make it through, a very firm s.h.i.+eld indeed. But they exchanged over forty moves, and Mr. Black-White's over forty moves were all defending moves. He didn't even have a spare second to launch one counterattacking move.

Mr. Bald-Brush, Mr. Paint, Ding Jian, and s.h.i.+ Lingwei were completed stupefied. They could all see with their own eyes that Linghu Chong's moves were neither quick, nor overwhelming, nor fierce, and the transformation between moves didn't seem tricky or crafty, but every time when he thrust his long sword out, it would always put Mr. Black-White into straitened circ.u.mstances and make him work to make up for his flaws. Mr. Bald-Brush and Mr. Paint both understood it very well that there is flaw in every single martial arts move. But if one could forestall and attack the opponent's vital points first, then his own flaws would not have become flaws, and even if he had hundreds or even thousands of flaws, it would not have mattered. And the forty or so continuing attacking moves Linghu Chong showed simply followed this principle.

Mr. Black-White also felt the shock growing bigger and bigger in his heart. He really wanted to launch his own counterattack, but as soon as he moved the game board slightly, the sword tip of the opponent was already pointing toward the flaws in his own moves. Within the forty moves also, he simply had no chance to improve the situation, as though he was playing a game of go with someone who had much, much higher skills, and for every single one of the forty or so game pieces the opponent played, he had no choice but to respond. Mr. Black-White knew that if the fight had continued like this, then even after another one hundred or two hundred moves, he would still be in the same boat where he would keep taking hits and never be able to fight back.

"If I don't take on some risks for a chance of success, then my ill.u.s.trious name would have been completely ruined," he thought to himself. Swinging his game board forward horizontally, he smashed it toward Linghu Chong's left side waist in high speed. Once again, without dodge for the strike, Linghu Chong thrust his long sword toward Mr. Black-White's lower stomach, but this time, Mr. Black-White didn't retrieve his game board to defend and still smashed the game board forward as though he was ready to risk his life and have a common ruin with his opponent. At the time when the sword tip approached his stomach, he suddenly reached out with his left hand and clipped at the sword blade with his index finger and middle finger. He had mastered the "Profound Heavenly Finger" Kung Fu, and the two fingers carried immense inner strength, which was really no less than another powerful weapon.

Seeing Mr. Black-White using such a risky move, the five bystanders all cried out in shock. Such move would no longer qualify as a contest of skills, but rather a game of life and death. If he failed to catch the sword with his fingers, then the sword tip would undoubtedly end up penetrating his stomach. Within the fraction of an instant, all five of them felt cold sweat in their palms. Mr. Black-White's two fingers were almost touching the sharp blade of the sword, and whether he could catch the blade or not, one out of the two sparring pair would for sure get wounded or get killed. If he did catch the blade, then Linghu Chong's long sword could not go any further, the game board would strike him in the waist, and he would not have any time to evade it. If he failed to catch the blade, or if he did catch the blade but failed to stop the long sword from going forward, then the long sword would continue with the thrust and even if Mr. Black-White wanted to leap back, he would have no time to do so.

Just at the instant when Mr. Black-White's finger barely touched the blade of the sword, the tip of the sword suddenly went upward and pointed at his throat. This change simply exceeded everybody's wildest imagination. Throughout all the martial arts in the history, there couldn't have ever had a move like this, because this would have meant that the first thrust toward the lower stomach was actually a fake. Using such a fake move in a fight between two top-notch martial artists would have been a joke. But even though this move did not comply with any orthodox principle in the art of sword, it did come out through Linghu Chong's hand. The sword tip prodded upward toward Mr. Black-White's throat. If Mr. Black-White's game board continued with the strike forward, the prod would have penetrated his throat first.

Utterly dumbstruck, Mr. Black-White used all his strength and held the game board still. He was a man with very quick wits and a master in gamesmans.h.i.+p, at the moment of the imminent peril, he immediately figured out the opponent's intention: if he aborted his strike with the game board, then the opponent's long sword would not prod forward either.

Sure enough, seeing that he held the game board still, Linghu Chong also froze the thrust with the long sword. The tip of the sword was only inches from his throat while his game board was also only inches from Linghu Chong's waist. Both of them held their positions steady and froze like two lifeless statues.

Although it looked as if neither was willing to budge, Linghu Chong was really the one with all the advantages. The game board was a heavy item; only when it was striking down from several feet afar would it incur any damage. At present, it was only inches from Linghu Chong, even if Mr. Black-White decided to push it forward with lots of power, it wouldn't do Linghu Chong much harm, but all Linghu Chong had to do was to prod forward gently, and the sword tip would easily kill his opponent. It was pretty obvious for everyone to tell who was in better shoes.

"Well, neither dares to move first. That's called 'Dual Life' in the rule of go. Second Master is really both intelligent and courageous. You have ended up a draw in the match against Brother Feng," Xiang Wentian declared with a grin.

Linghu Chong withdrew his long sword and took two steps back. "Please excuse my boldness." He bowed.

"Brother Tong must be joking. How can one call this a draw? Brother Feng's understanding in the art of sword is incomparable. I just had a crus.h.i.+ng defeat," Mr. Black-White muttered.

"Second Brother, your Kung Fu with your game piece darts is a unique skill in the Martial World. n.o.body could ever escape it when you shoot out the three hundred and sixty-one black and white game pieces. Why don't you check out this Brother Feng's Kung Fu in breaking darts?" Mr. Paint suggested.

Mr. Black-White felt a throb in his heart. He glanced at Xiang Wentian, who nodded slightly a few times. Turning his head to look at Linghu Chong, he found no expression on Linghu Chong's face.

"This one's sword skills are to the extreme," he thought secretly, "in the entire world, that person probably is the only one who could defeat him. The look on those two's faces suggested that they had great confidence. If I have another contest of darts, most probably I'll end up making myself a fool one more time."

At that thought, he shook his head and showed a wry smile, "I have already admitted my defeat. What's the need for another match of darts?"

.......

[1] Gold cast into the shape of leaves for the convenience of travelers.

[2] The world's most ancient man-made waterway, China's Grand Ca.n.a.l, a system still in use up to the 21st Century, was built in the Sui Dynasty in 606 AD, which linked the Yangtze, Yellow and Huai rivers, requiring the conscription of up to two million workers.

[3] South of the lower reaches of the Yangtze River.

[4] Turfan is a famous city in the Xinjiang Autonomous Region. It's very famous for its high temperature in the summer. And because of the special climate, the city produces world-renowned Hami melons and grapes. The famous Mountain of Blaze descried in the novel Journey to the West is located right next to the city of Turfan.

[5] Great Master Xuan-Zang, or Tang Seng (Monk from Tang Dynasty), journeyed all the way to India in order to retrieve the true Buddhist Scriptures. Later, his story was written into the famous novel, Journey to the West.

[6] A Chinese game for two, played with black and white counters on a board that is ruled with 19 vertical and 19 horizontal lines. You can visit this web page by Mindy McAdams for more information about the game of Go.

[7] Legend has it that in the Jin Dynasty, there was a young woodman named w.a.n.g Zhi. One day when he went up the mountain to chop woods as usual, he saw two old men playing a game of Go, so he set his axe aside and watched by the side. By the time the game was over and the two old men had left, he decided to gather his axe and get on with his work. That was when he found out that the helve of his axe had decayed completely. Very baffled, he went down the mountain, only to find out that five hundred years had pa.s.sed and everybody he had known had all pa.s.sed away. Because this story was so wide spread that people of the later generations gave the game of Go a nickname: Decayed Helve.

[8] Legend has it that in the Northern Song Dynasty, Liu Zhongpu, the National Champion in the game of Go, played a game of Go with a young girl in a teahouse. Liu's white pieces took all the upper hands in the game. Very pleased with himself, Liu made no effort of concealing his arrogance, so the young girl excused herself and soon returned with a granny, who picked up where the young girl had left off in the game of Go. With much ease, the granny placed her pieces on the board quickly and completely turned the game around, knocking Liu off his feet. The utmost anxiety and desperation hit Liu hard and he began spitting up blood from the frustration. Only after he had lost the game did he realize that the young girl and the granny were not human but celestial beings.

[9] Legend has it that when Xuan-Zong, the emperor of Tang, fled to Szechwan because of An Lushan's revolt. w.a.n.g Jixin, his royal champion of Go, also followed. And along the way, one day, w.a.n.g Jixin put up for the night under the eave of an old farmer granny's house, when he heard the bed talk between the old granny and her daughter-in-law. Turned out they were playing a game of Go while lying on bed in the dark simply by spelling out their moves. Greatly shaken by the brilliant moves, w.a.n.g Jixin memorized all the moves in the game quietly. The next morning when he tried to consult the old granny and her daughter-in-law, he found out that the house was actually an abandoned house with no one living in it. He suspected that the old granny and her daughter-in-law were actually fairy foxes who had a.s.sumed human shape.

[10] Confucius looked on the game of Go as a waste of time, thus criticized it as unorthodox school.

[11] These are terms in the game of Go. Please see this web page for more information.

[12] See the painting here.

[13] A highly cursive script style in Chinese calligraphy (a subset of Gra.s.s Style calligraphy) executed with strokes flowing together. Not only the style writing is free and easy, but also fast.

[14] The style of calligraphy for inscriptions on drum-shaped stone blocks of the Warring States Period (475-221 B. C. )

[15] Han Yu, a famous poet, writer, and philosopher of the Tang Dynasty.

[16] See the calligraphy book here.

[17] Yan Zhenqing (709-785AD) is a famous calligraphy artist during the Tang Dynasty who created the Yan Style of Chinese Calligraphy.

[18] Six Directions: The six cardinal directions: front, back, left, right, above, and below, meaning all under heaven.

[19] Nine Fields: North, South, East, West, Middle, Northwest, Northeast, Southwest, Southeast, meaning the world.

[20] A famous general during the Three Kingdoms period. See Romance of the Three Kingdoms for the story of Zhang Fei.

[21] Huai Su was another very famous Calligraphy Artist in Chinese history. See the calligraphy book here.

[22] A special term in the game of Go. Please see this web page for more information.