CH 2.2

A Blur of Swords in a Perilous Valley

Part 2 (8)

Watermoon Mountain Villa was by no means large. Yang Zhang choosing that name was nothing more than an expression of his feeling that life was like a flower reflected in a mirror or the moon reflected on water, that all that fame and fortune was just an illusion. The meditation hall was built in a green bamboo thicket. The sound of Buddhist chanting sounded amidst the rippling green waves of bamboo.

Yang Menghuan led Xialin down the winding path through the bamboo grove. The meditation hall was a three-room thatched cottage furnished with a low bamboo table and wooden chairs. It had been swept spotless, and in the center of the room was a white pine square “eight transcendents” table at which sat a beautiful middle-aged woman dressed in a blue-green top and skirt. Her eyes were slightly closed and she was reciting the Great Compassion Sutra. Yang Menghuan went up to her and kowtowed. “Mother, Huan’er has returned!”

Madame Yang slowly opened her eyes, a loving smile appearing on her solemn face. She stroked the top of Menghuan’s head and said, “You came back just in time. Tomorrow is her death anniversary. Before she died she was still thinking about you. Tomorrow have Yang Fu take you to pay your respects at her grave, she’s buried at the foot of the western mountain, where you two used to play when you were little.”

Yang Menghuan wept and replied, “Such a shame Cousin Juan died and I didn’t even get a chance to see her one last time!”

Madame Yang helped Menghuan up, a look of sorrow now on her solemn, loving face. She sighed. “Juan’er was very bright, but she was fated to die young. Her death has spared her from future suffering. Karma in the mundane world accumulates and is requited, you cannot force it, and you mustn’t be too sad. Who is this girl in white?”

Before Yang Menghuan could answer, Xialin kowtowed and said, “Auntie, I’m Shen Xialin, Senior Brother Yang and I are Kunlun School disciples.”

Madame Yang reached over and helped her to her feet and pulled her alongside and took a good look at how sweet and artless she was, how pure and she was immediately fond of her. Smiling, she asked, “You’re Menghuan’s junior sectsister? How old are you?”

Shen Xialin nodded. “I’m seventeen.”

Madame Yang gently pulled her into her arms and asked, “Where does your family live, is your mother well?”

That question made Miss Shen sad, and she snuggled up in Madame Yang’s arms. She had lost her mother at an early age and for over a decade Greatmaster Clear Karma had raised her. The old monk cherished her in everything he did, but it could not compare to a woman’s instinctual motherly love. Madame Yang’s asking about her mother touched a sore spot in her heart.

Shen Xialin cried as she answered, “Lin’er has had a hard lot and lost her parents when she was young. Shifu told me my name is Shen Xialin, but I don’t remember my parents at all.”

Her sobbing was sweet and agreeable and she spoke clear and sharp every heartbreaking sentence, even word tears of blood, moving even Madame Yang’s deep power of overcoming disturbing thoughts so that she was saddened beyond words. She stroked the girl’s hair and said, “Child, don’t cry! Even if your mom were still alive she could not be with you forever.”

Miss Shen stopped crying and looked up with immeasurable sadness. “Auntie, look at me, do you think i will die young? Will I die early like Senior Brother Yang’s Cousin Juan?”

She had a child’s heart, asking whatever occurred to her. She didn’t do it on purpose, but Yang Menghuan standing to the side felt a rush of cold air in his heart when he heard that. Madame Yang loudly intoned the name of Buddha and smiled. “Life and death are fated, child. What makes you ask such a question?”

Shen Xialin’s big eyes blinked and she said faintly, “I don’t know why, I just thought of it so I asked Auntie!”

Madame Yang, with a benevolent look in her eyes, took a good long look at Shen Xialin. “You won’t, child. You are very fortunate, you’re not destined to die young like Juan’er.”

A comforted smile broke through Miss Shen’s melancholy face and she proudly turned to look at Menghuan. This child was so innocent, Madame Yang’s words had given her immeasurable comfort.

That look moved Madame Yang as well. Her loving gaze turned to Menghuan. “Your father in his old age has turned to the Way, sincere and resolute. He was an official for so long, all that treachery and crises. One day he had an awakening and his heart was like still water, all thoughts left him. Recently I’ve seen that he’s reached the state where he has brushed aside all attachments to the mundane world. Though I have studied Buddhism for decades, I still cannot sever the thread of emotion. It’s really no wonder, but everyone’s encounters are different. Cultivation rests entirely with oneself, Mother cannot pay you too much mind. You have much innate talent, but you are not of the School of Unreality. Too many illusory thoughts will only harm yourself.” With that she closed her eyes and resumed her solemn expression.

Yang Menghuan didn’t dare disturb her any more and gently tugged on Xialin’s sleeve and they withdrew from the meditation hall. The old servant Yang Fu had already swept and prepared a room for the young master, and Miss Shen was helped along by Juan’er’s former maid, Silver Vase, who got her settled down.

~*~

The next morning, Yang Fu prepared three sacrificial offerings and took Yang Menghuan to pay his respects at Yujuan’s grave. It was the crack of dawn, the sun just coming up, the mountains looking like they were out of a painting. A brook lined around a small cliff, and a tombstone stood alone on the green grass. The old servant Yang Fu set out the offerings, then turned, eyes welling with tears. “Young Master, at this lone tomb is buried Miss Juan. I remember often coming here with Young Master and Miss Juan and you two would play and fish in the stream and when you were having fun you didn’t even want to go back home to eat. I can see it all clearly before me. The scenery is the same, but Miss Juan has been dead a year now.”

Yang Menghuan controlled his immeasurable sadness and said to Yang Fu, “You go on back. I want to be alone here.”

Yang Fu had suffered yesterday and didn’t dare say anything to bring disaster on himself. He just advised, “When a person dies they can’t come back to life. Young Master, don’t be too sad and damage your health. In a while this old servant will come and take you back.” With that he left.

~*~

After Yang Fu left, Menghuan was unable to control his grief any longer and a stream of tears coursed from his starry eyes. He was overcome with grief, so much that he couldn’t even cry out but just knelt before the tombstone and wept silently. This sort of weeping was the most spirit-breaking, and before long his tears were exhausted and blood began to flow. Yang Fu returned and saw Menghuan in a stupor, as if drunk or crazy. He called out Young Master twice but Menghuan didn’t hear him. He was scared out of his wits when he saw blood flowing from the corners of Menghuan’s round starry eyes, and he ran like mad back to Watermoon Mountain Villa.

Yang Zhang always went out at dawn and his whereabouts varied. Madame Yang was in the meditation hall, eyes closed in meditation. He didn’t dare disturb her, so he had no choice but to go get Miss Xialin. Shen Xialin dashed out before he’d even finished telling her. Yujuan was no more than a mile from Watermoon Mountain Villa and Miss Shen was burning with anxiety and was there before she knew it. Menghuan sure enough was knelt unmoving before the tombstone. If not for the blood flowing from the corners of his eyes, he would have looked just like a stone statue.

Suddenly she turned and put her arms out to embrace Menghuan, calling out, “I can’t live either.”

Suddenly a gust of wind hit Xialin and at the same time a familiar voice sounded, “Stop, do you really not want him to live?”

This all happened so suddenly that Shen Xialin instinctively dodged to the side. She collected herself and saw standing before her the longbearded old man they’d met on Dongting Lake.

The old man didn’t wait for Xialin to speak, but first sighed and said, “He’s overcome with grief and has injured his central prime. All of his perfected qi in his body has concentrated and will not disperse. If you rashly jostle him, the perfected qi concentrated in his internal organs will not be able to disperse and it will condense into an internal injury, and the more advanced his internal power is, the more serious the injury will be. Even if he doesn’t die he will certainly be crippled.”

He made his way over to Menghuan and put his right palm on his back, smacking the “Life Gate” acupoint, while his left hand used tuina techniques to massage Menghuan’s “Dovetail” and “Lung Sea” acupoints, and sure enough before long Menghuan let out a long breath and slowly turned his head. Xialin was delighted, and without even thanking the old man she called out, “Big Brother Huan.” She put both arms out and helped Menghuan up. She didn’t care who was around, she naturally used her snow-white sleeve to wipe the blood from the corners of his eyes. Though her face was still wet with tears, a smile had reappeared.

Yang Menghuan saw how sincere and devoted she Xialin was and couldn’t bear to refuse her, he just let her do as she pleased. He caught a glimpse of the longbearded old man he’d met on Dongting Lake standing solid and solemn off to the side, and he gently pushed Shen Xialin away and bowed with a smile. “Senior, when did you arrive here? Forgive this junior for not welcoming you.”

That reminded Xialin that she had not thanked him. She curtseyed gracefully and said, “Thank you Granddad for saving my Big Brother Huan.”

The longbearded old man returned the courtesy to Menghuan and Xialin and with and with a solemn expression said, “I hadn’t intended on saving anyone, I was just reluctant to take advantage of someone in trouble. Little Brother Yang, you said before that extending a helping hand in the martial world is an ordinary, minor matter. Actually, your junior sectsister could have saved you just the same, only she lacks experience and in her desperation didn’t know what she should do.”

Yang Menghuan was surprised at this and looked at Xialin, who was at a loss herself, her limpid eyes staring blankly.

Yang Menghuan was an extremely intelligent person, after a moment of deep thought he understood completely, and in a clear loud voice said, “Now that I have received your warning and your rescue, Senior’s moral obligations to me have been fulfilled, and this makes up for the small favor my teacher did for you back then. If Senior has any other instructions for me, I am listening respectfully.”

The old man stroked his long beard and laughed. “Little Brother Yang, you’re right, there’s no grudge between our Heavenly Dragon Gang and Kunlun, however that treasure map is the foremost rare treasure of the martial world, and every school is vying for it, and like I told you last time when we talking on my boat on Dongting Lake, the next time we meet I will ask you, Little Brother, to show me your Split Second Swordplay.”

Yang Menghuan smiled. “So Senior coming all the way over here was for nothing more than the treasure map, but regardless of whether or not the map has fallen into Kunlun hands, this junior certainly doesn’t have it.”

The longbearded old man’s face clouded and he said coldly, “Then I will have to inconvenience you to come with me, Little Brother, and see our chief.”

Yang Menghuan arched his brow. “So you’re saying that Senior is prepared to seize this junior and take me back to your gang and hold me hostage.”

The old man stroked his long beard and laughed. “The gang’s rules are strict, it’s not up to this old rotter, I have to beg Little Brother Yang’s forgiveness.”

Yang Menghuan threw his head back and laughed. “Kunlun’s disciples are not so useless as that, you’re right about that. You might think so, but in reality it might not be as easy as you think.”

The longbearded old man laughed coldly. “Your teacher’s chivalrous name is peerless, and Little Brother Yang, you’re extraordinary as well. First I’ll try you out with a few masterstrokes, then we’ll talk.”

Yang Menghuan said, “This junior is stupid and untalented, and my learning is limited. If Senior condescends to instruct me, than I shall seize this opportunity to learn. It’s just that this is the second time we’ve met and this junior has not asked Senior’s venerable name. Since we’re going to trade moves, don’t tell me Senior is still unwilling to tell me his name?”

The longbearded old man thought for a moment. “You Hongfei, Heavenly Dragon Gang’s chief helmsman of Yangtze River. I have a somewhat unpleasant-sounding nickname, the Divine Yangtze Flood Dragon. Little Brother, en garde.”

His right hand shot like lightning to grab Yang Menghuan, but Yang Menghuan dodged it. Suddenly a white streak darted in, Shen Xialin attacking. The young lady’s martial arts was not weak, three moves lashing out in quick succession, her little jade-white hands like dancing butterflies. You Hongfei was forced back three steps under her rapid onslaught. Shen Xialin retracted her hands and said, “You saved my Big Brother Huan and for that I am grateful, but if you want to hit him then I won’t thank you.”

Divine Yangtze Flood Dragon’s face was ashen. “The young lady’s martial arts is not weak, but I, You Hongfei, will not fight a girl. Miss, please stand aside and cheer on your Senior Brother Yang, I still have some advice to seek from your senior sectbrother.”