Dragon Whips Tail

"I PROMISED YOUR SHIFU I'D LET YOU GO," ZEPHYR LU SAID to Wanyan Kang, as Laurel Lu lifted the Jin Prince to his feet.

The young man could only glare back. Of course, Zephyr Lu was aware that Wanyan Kang's limbs were locked through his acupressure points – he even noticed it had been done in a way different from that taught on Peach Blossom Island. Though he could free the young man, it might be deemed impolite by the person who had put Wanyan Kang into that state. He was certain he would be released when the moment was right.

Zhu Cong stepped forward and pinched Wanyan Kang in the waist a few times, then patted him on the back. The young man regained the command of his body immediately.

Having seen Wanyan Kang fight, Zephyr Lu was impressed how Zhu Cong had immobilised the Jin Prince without exchanging a blow. Under normal circumstances, the Second Freak would not have been able to subdue the young man so easily. Yet, in the chaos after the roof's collapse, Wanyan Kang was busy freeing the Song official that had been travelling with him. That had given Zhu Cong the chance to steal close and restrain them both.

"Take him with you," Zhu Cong said, as he massaged the captured official's vital points.

The man bowed deeply when he could move again, overcome with euphoria; he had been delivered from the jaws of death. "Your humble servant Justice Duan thanks the magnanimous hero for sparing my life. Should my lord—"

"You are . . . Justice Duan?" The name rang and rang in Guo Jing's ears.

"Yes, young hero."

"You were a martial officer in Lin'an, eighteen years ago."

"Indeed, young hero." He then turned to Laurel Lu. "Abbot Withered Wood is, in fact, my uncle. In a way, we are related!" He laughed awkwardly.

Guo Jing looked Justice Duan up and down, silently taking in everything about this desperate man as he ingratiated himself with smiles and small talk.

"Squire Lu, may I use the rear hall for a moment?" Guo Jing said at last.

"Of course."

Guo Jing grabbed Justice Duan by the arm and marched off. The Freaks followed, thanking the heavens for this stroke of luck. If this vile traitor had not revealed his own name, they would not have realised that he was the very person they had tracked for tens of thousands of li, all those years ago.

Zephyr Lu, Laurel Lu and Wanyan Kang, mystified by Guo Jing's reaction, trailed after them.

As they entered the rear hall, Guo Jing turned to one of the servants lighting the candles and asked for a brush and some paper. When the writing instruments were brought to him, the young man said, "Second Shifu, please write a spirit tablet for my father."

HERE LIES THE SPIRIT OF PATRIOT SKYFURY GUO. Zhu Cong wrote the characters large and clear, and placed the paper reverentially in the centre of the table.

Justice Duan shrivelled at the sight of the name. He had hoped the nice young man was taking him for a late-night meal to calm his nerves. He so desperately wanted to flee, but the rotund figure of Ryder Han filled his vision before he could lift so much as a toe.

Duan immediately felt his trousers clinging to his legs, warm and sodden. He had seen this frightening form before. At an inn in Yangzhou, he had caught a glimpse of him between the door and the jamb. This man and six others, they had followed him as he dragged Skyfury Guo's widow north.

Duan looked from face to face, silently counting, before crumpling into a trembling heap on the floor. Though he had seen the Freaks earlier, at the banquet, he had been too preoccupied by his predicament and had not put two and two together.

"What would you prefer, a quick death or a bit of pain first?" Guo Jing barked.

Justice Duan realised his only hope of survival was to own up and shift the guilt onto someone else. "Though this lowly man played a small part in Patriot Guo's misfortune, I was simply following ord—"

"Who gave the order? Who sent you to kill my father? Speak now!"

"Wanyan Honglie! The Sixth Prince of the Great Jin Empire."

"How dare you!" Wanyan Kang cried.

Justice Duan reasoned that he might mitigate his guilt if he dragged another into the mire, if he could argue he was simply a pawn in someone else's game. So he relayed in great detail how Wanyan Honglie had met and fallen for Ironheart Yang's wife, Charity Bao, how the Jin Prince had used his influence to bribe the Song officials with gold and silver to send soldiers to get rid of Ironheart Yang and Skyfury Guo, and how Wanyan Honglie had pretended to happen across the raid and mount a heroic rescue of Charity Bao. He also told Guo Jing how he had escaped to Zhongdu with the boy's mother as hostage, how they were captured by the Jin army and pressed into service as porters on their march to Mongolia, and how they had been separated in battle. He even explained how he had found his way back to Lin'an and found his path to preferment, to his current high position in the government. He fell to his knees as he concluded his tale.

"Hero Guo, Lord Guo, this is the truth. I am nobody. I remember your honourable father. A real man – righteous, handsome, such a commanding presence – I didn't want to hurt him. It would have been an honour to befriend him. But . . . but I was just a soldier, a lowly official. I received a command – it wasn't up to me. I truly admired your father, I would have spared his life if . . . Justice is my name and I have aspired, ever since I was a child, to live up to it, it's just . . ."

The man glanced up from his grovelling. Guo Jing glared back, dark like iron and hard as steel. The official prostrated himself before Skyfury Guo's memorial, knocking his head loudly and fearfully against the ground in a sign of the utmost respect and submission.

"Grandmaster Guo, I submit myself to your spirit in the heavens. You must understand it was Wanyan Honglie, the Sixth Prince of the Jin Empire, who was your nemesis. Yes, that beast! Not me, not this nobody. Why, I'm no more significant than an ant. Your spirit above must rejoice to see your son so upstanding and heroic. Please, my lord, be merciful. Please ask him to spare this wretched life of mine . . ."

Duan continued to ramble and kowtow to the spirit of Skyfury Guo, but his appeals were soon cut short. Wanyan Kang leapt up, then came swooping down, crushing his fellow captive's skull with both hands.

Guo Jing collapsed by the table in a torrent of tears. Zephyr Lu, Laurel Lu and the Six Freaks took turns to pay their respects to Skyfury Guo.

Wanyan Kang followed, sinking to his knees and touching his head to the ground. He stood up and turned to Guo Jing. "Brother Guo, I had no idea until just now that . . . that Wanyan Honglie is our enemy. I have behaved most unnaturally through ignorance; I truly deserve ten thousand deaths." He thought of the suffering his mother had been through and started to cry.

"What will you do?" Guo Jing asked.

"I now know the name Wanyan has no meaning for me," he said. "From now on, my name will be Yang. I am called Yang Kang."

"These are the words of a man who remembers his roots," Guo Jing said. "I'm leaving for Yanjing tomorrow. To kill Wanyan Honglie. Will you come with me?"

Yang Kang was not sure how to answer. After all, Wanyan Honglie had raised him and treated him as his own blood. However, noticing Guo Jing's face darkening, he immediately said, "Of course! I shall follow my brother's lead."

"Excellent! Your late papa and my mother both told me that our fathers once pledged that we should be sworn brothers. How does that sound?"

"There is nothing I want more."

Yang Kang asked Guo Jing his birthday to determine who would be the elder brother. It turned out he was one month younger than Guo Jing.

Kneeling side by side, they bowed eight times at Skyfury Guo's memorial and became brothers.

2

THE NEXT MORNING, ZEPHYR LU PRESENTED THE FREAKS AND Yang Kang with generous parting gifts as they said their farewells. Guo Jing, however, refused to take anything more from his host. Meanwhile, Cyclone Mei was beginning to settle in at Roaming Cloud Manor. She was given her own quarters as well as dedicated servants and ladies in waiting.

"Brother Yang and I will head north to find Wanyan Honglie," Guo Jing said to his shifus as they strolled away from the manor with their horses.

"We will come with you," Ke Zhen'e said, and there was a chorus of agreement from his martial siblings. "We have no engagements until our contest with Tiger Peng on Moon Festival."

"Shifu, it would not be right for me to take you north again. You haven't been back to the south for two decades because of me – and your home is just a few days' ride from here. Wanyan Honglie knows no kung fu. With Brother Yang's help, I am sure it won't be difficult to kill him."

Though the Freaks were keen to accompany Guo Jing on his quest, the call of home was strong too. They also had little cause to fear for his safety, given the vast improvement in his kung fu. So, they took turns to bid the young man farewell and offer advice.

Jade Han was the last to speak. "You don't have to go Peach Blossom Island." She knew Guo Jing would never break his promise, but she had at least to try to stop him from walking knowingly into danger. Apothecary Huang's cruel ways were legendary.

"I cannot go back on my word."

"What's the point of keeping faith with such a vile, evil man? Brother, you are too inflexible," Yang Kang interjected.

Ke Zhen'e snorted and turned to his disciple. "We martial men must always honour our word. You need not travel with your sworn brother. Mount Ulaan and gallop to Zhongdu for your revenge. If you succeed, excellent; if you fail this time, remember that it may take years for a man of principle to be avenged. There will always be another chance to plunge a blade into that villain, Wanyan Honglie.

"Today is the fifth day of the sixth month. Meet us at the Garden of the Eight Drunken Immortals in Jiaxing on the first of the seventh month, and we will go to Peach Blossom Island with you."

Guo Jing fell to his knees and bowed in gratitude.

Yang Kang had sped up to distance himself from the group as he heard Ke Zhen'e's pointed remark. Gilden Quan now took the chance to whisper a word of warning: "He's born to wealth and rank. He doesn't seem like an upright man of honour to me. Beware."

Guo Jing nodded solemnly.

"That daughter of Apothecary Huang is nothing like her old man, eh?" Zhu Cong said with a chuckle, in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "We aren't upset about her anymore, are we, Third Brother?"

"She called me a squat melon!" Ryder Han tugged at his beard. "But I'll admit she's a bit better looking than me." He giggled at his own joke.

Guo Jing laughed along with the rest of the Freaks, pleased that his shifus had come around to Lotus. However, their current separation and the uncertainty of their reunion weighed heavy on his heart.

"Swift be your ride! We'll await your good news in Jiaxing."

With these parting words from Gilden Quan, the Freaks mounted their horses and rode south.

3

GUO JING WATCHED HIS SHIFUS DISAPPEAR BEYOND THE horizon before mounting Ulaan to catch up with Yang Kang.

The two young men rode slowly northwards. It was Guo Jing who broke the silence. "My horse is very fast. It will only take me a fortnight to ride there and back. But let's travel together for a few days at first."

Yang Kang did not reply, trying to hide the upheaval churning inside. Just a month ago, he had come south as Imperial Ambassador of the Great Jin Empire, escorted by a large envoy of guards and attendants. Now, he rode north all alone. His retinue, his wealth, his status – all had vanished like a spring dream. Though he was relieved that Guo Jing had stopped pressing him to come along to Zhongdu for the assassination, he was torn as he tried to resolve one burning question: should he find a way to warn Wanyan Honglie?

Guo Jing noticed Yang Kang's unease, but the simple-minded fellow assumed his sworn brother was thinking about his late parents, and left him to grieve.

At around midday, they arrived in Liyang. Just as they started to look for a place to rest, a man waved at them to stop.

"Sirs, are you Master Guo and Master Yang? We have food and drink ready for you; please come with me."

Guo Jing and Yang Kang exchanged a look of surprise.

"How do you know our names?" Yang Kang asked.

"A gentleman gave us your description this morning and bade us to prepare lunch for your arrival." The man smiled and took the reins of the horses. "Allow me to show you to your table."

The waiter first brought a flagon of Floral Carving yellow wine of good vintage, then returned with bowls of fine noodles accompanied by a variety of elegantly prepared dishes, one of which was Guo Jing's favourite – braised chicken with mushrooms. It was an unexpectedly good meal.

When they asked for the bill, the waiter told them it was already settled.

"Such generosity from Roaming Cloud Manor," Yang Kang sneered as he handed the waiter one tael of silver as a tip. The man bowed repeatedly as he saw his patrons all the way to the door, unable to believe his luck.

When they were on the road again, Guo Jing recounted how hospitable Squire Lu had been when he and Lotus had stayed at the manor.

"That man is a fraud. He clearly bought his place among the heroes of the jianghu with gold," Yang Kang said sourly, still insulted by the treatment he had received at Zephyr Lu's hands. "What he just did for us – I'm sure that's how he became the leader of the pirates of Lake Tai."

"He's your martial uncle, isn't he?" Yang Kang's attitude took Guo Jing by surprise.

"Cyclone Mei did teach me some martial arts, but I can't really say she's my shifu." The flippant answer was followed by a wistful muttered aside. "If only I'd known, I would have stayed away from such unorthodox kung fu. I wouldn't be in such a sticky situation today."

"What do you mean?"

Realising he had let his tongue run away with him, Yang Kang blushed and forced a smile. "Oh, I've always felt there was something not quite right about the Nine Yin Skeleton Claw and all that."

Guo Jing nodded and said, "You're right. Your shifu Elder Eternal Spring is a true master of the most orthodox school of martial arts. If you explain everything and promise to practise earnestly, I'm sure he'll forgive you."

Yang Kang made a point of ignoring his sworn brother's words.

At sunset, the young men arrived at Jintan. Once again, the local inn had been informed of their arrival. The same thing happened in every town they stopped at for the next three days. On the fourth day, they crossed the Yangtze River and arrived at Gaoyou. The moment they rode into town, an innkeeper welcomed them.

"How far is Roaming Cloud Manor going to see us off?" Yang Kang scoffed.

But Guo Jing had long suspected it was someone else. There was always one or two of his favourite dishes at each meal. How would Laurel Lu know his tastes so well?

Once they finished eating, Guo Jing said, "I'll go ahead to see who's behind this."

Guo Jing sped through the next three towns without stopping. When he reached Baoying, there was no innkeeper watching out for his arrival. He found the largest inn in town, asked for the room closest to the reception and waited.

At nightfall, he heard a peal of bells and a horse whinnying outside. Then footsteps approached the reception and he heard a voice asking for a room, and for a Master Guo and a Master Yang to be received the next day.

Guo Jing's heart fluttered with joy to hear Lotus's voice again, but he decided not to show himself yet: Lotus loves to play tricks; I'll surprise her tonight!

He got out of bed quietly after the second watch was sounded and tiptoed to Lotus's room. On his way, he caught a glimpse of a shadow hurtling across the rooftops.

Where's she going, this late at night? He gave chase, using his lightness kung fu.

Lotus did not stop until she reached a stream, out in the countryside. She sat down under a willow tree and took a few things from the pocket inside her shirt.

"Now, sit nicely," she muttered. "Face each other. Yes, that's it."

Nocturnal insects chirped over the sound of the babbling brook. The low-hanging moon cast its beams sideways through the night sky. A breeze wafted through the willow branches, ruffling Lotus's sleeves.

Guo Jing stole closer and found shelter a short distance behind Lotus. On the ground before her were two clay dolls, a boy and a girl, chubby and full of life. He remembered her telling him about the earthen figures she'd had growing up on Peach Blossom Island. They came from a city called Wuxi, on the shore of Lake Tai. Even though they were children's playthings, they were skilfully crafted and most lifelike.

Intrigued, Guo Jing crept forward a few steps to get a better look. Placed between the figurines were tiny clay bowls and plates, filled with flowers, grass and leaves.

"This one's for Guo Jing and this one's for Lotus. I made them just for you. Do you like how it tastes?"

"Very much so!" Guo Jing replied, running up behind her.

A glorious smile lit up Lotus's face as she turned and threw her arms around Guo Jing. They held each other tight, refusing to let go. Eventually, they sat under a willow tree, shoulder to shoulder, telling each other all that had happened since they had parted. Though it was only a few days, it felt like months, nay, years.

Guo Jing listened intently, intoxicated by her laughter, her words, her presence. He remembered how Lotus had defied her father to protect him, jumping into Lake Tai to prove her point. But he did not realise that she had swum back after two hours to make sure he was out of danger, and had spent the night in the woods outside Roaming Cloud Manor to keep an eye on him; nor that she had lurked in the undergrowth by the manor's entrance and watched him heading north with Yang Kang, before overtaking them to arrange their meals. He felt blessed that Lotus cared so much, but also a little uncomfortable with the rift he had caused between father and daughter. He could tell Lotus regretted her harsh words.

By now, the moon was high and the refreshing night breeze lulled Lotus into a languid contentment. Her eyes started to grow heavy and she began to slur her words. Soon, she fell asleep in Guo Jing's arms, her breathing soft and light, her skin cool and smooth. Fearing he might wake her, he slowly leaned his weight against the tree, and he too dozed off.

When Guo Jing woke up, the morning sun was peeking over the horizon. The willow branches rustled to the oriole's song and there was a sweet scent of Lotus in the air. He watched her sleep.

Her eyebrows, perfect crescents. Her cheeks, rosy and immaculate. Her lips, curved upwards in a smile. He decided not to interrupt this perfect image of sleep and turned his attention to counting her eyelashes.

"I scouted out Miss Cheng's chamber. It's behind the Tong Ren Pawnbroker, in the rear garden." The speaker was only a dozen or so paces to the left of Guo Jing.

"Excellent. Let's do it tonight," came the hoarse, whispered reply.

Guo Jing was certain these two men could not be up to any good. Perhaps they were the lecherous flower thieves his shifus had told him about? He must thwart their plans.

Right at that moment, Lotus jumped up and ran away from him, calling, "Catch me if you can!"

Guo Jing was confused. What's she doing? Why's she waving at me from behind the tree? After a moment, he understood. She's pretending to be playing in the woods! Chuckling, he ran towards her, making sure his footsteps were heavy and loud enough to disguise his martial training.

The two men were alarmed to find they had company so early in the morning. They relaxed a little when they saw it was a young couple frolicking in the forest, and slunk away in silence.

When the men were out of earshot, Lotus said, "What business do you think they have with Miss Cheng tonight?"

"They're up to no good. We should help her!" Guo Jing replied.

"Do you think they're Count Seven's people? Their clothes were dirty and patched."

"I doubt it, although Count Seven did say he's the chieftain of all beggars. Maybe they're rogues dressed as beggars?"

"No, they're real beggars. You can't fake boils like those on their legs, and their feet were bare and callused." Lotus fell silent for a moment. "Count Seven may have amazing kung fu, but there's only one of him. And there are tens of thousands of beggars under the blue sky. They can't all be good; there must be some rotten ones. He can't possibly keep every single one in line. We should discipline these two for him. I'm sure it'll please him, and it's the perfect way to thank him for being so kind to us, too."

Guo Jing nodded, happy for a chance to repay Count Seven's generosity, and impressed by Lotus's sharp eyes. He certainly had not noticed their legs.

4

GUO JING AND LOTUS HUANG RETURNED TO THE INN FOR breakfast and spent the morning strolling around Baoying, searching for the pawnbrokers mentioned by the beggars. They eventually found it on the western side of the town.

The Historical Tong Ren Pawnbroker was a grand structure. Its name was proudly painted on its white wall, each character taller than an adult man. Beyond this imposing façade was a garden, just as the beggars had described. Among the buildings in the grounds was one particularly ornate tower, its windows shielded by jade-green bamboo blinds. Pleased to have located Miss Cheng's chamber, the young couple continued to explore the rest of the city, hand in hand.

That evening, they went straight to bed after dinner, napping until the first watch was sounded. Then they returned to the pawnbrokers and hopped over the garden wall. A faint light was visible from the tower. They climbed up to the roof, hooked their feet on the eaves and hung upside down to peer inside.

It was a warm night and the windows were all open. Through the slats of the bamboo blind, they could make out seven women in the room. One of them was reading. She looked no more than eighteen or nineteen. She must be Miss Cheng. Around her were six maidservants. Yet, instead of waiting upon their mistress with the usual trappings of a maiden's chamber, they each clutched a weapon, ready for combat. Even their flowing garments were tied back to ensure ease of movement. From their demeanour, it was clear these young women had some kind of martial training.

Guo Jing and Lotus had thought they were here to deliver a young woman from trouble, but, since she was so well prepared, something else must be afoot. Sharing a smile, they swung back up to the roof and waited for the excitement to begin.

Half an hour later, a quiet pop sounded from beyond the garden wall. Lotus tugged Guo Jing's sleeve and they ducked down, out of sight, behind an upturned corner of the roof.

Two dark shapes scaled the wall and one of them gave a short, low whistle as they hurried across the garden to Miss Cheng's building. Their outlines very much resembled the beggars from that morning.

A maid lifted a corner of the blind. "Are you the heroes of the Beggar Clan? Please come up."

Guo Jing and Lotus glanced at each other. They had been expecting a fight. Who would have thought the beggars would turn out to be friends with Miss Cheng?

When the two men entered her chamber, the young woman stood up and made a gesture of welcome. "Might I ask your names?"

"My family name is Li. This is my martial nephew, Prosper Yu." Guo Jing and Lotus recognised his voice immediately – the second speaker that morning, the man with the hoarse voice.

"Master Li, Brother Yu, it is my honour to be acquainted with such revered names. The heroes of the Beggar Clan are admired throughout the wulin for their righteous sense of justice. Please take a seat."

Miss Cheng's words were a standard welcome in the dialect of the rivers and lakes. Yet she spoke in such a bashful, halting manner that it was clear to all that these martial courtesies fell outside her usual manner of speaking, and nor were her guests her usual conversational companions.

The young woman's face was flushed crimson. Eventually, she mustered enough courage to lift her eyes for the first time since the men's arrival. The mere sight of them sent her head sinking even lower in maidenly discomfort. "The Elder is the Serpent Lord of the Eastern Shores, Vigour Li?"

"The lady is most perceptive." Li smiled. "I once had the pleasure of meeting your honourable teacher, the Sage of Tranquillity. I have always held her in the utmost respect and admiration."

The Sage of Tranquillity? Could he mean Sun Bu'er the Faithful, one of the Seven Immortals of the Quanzhen Sect? Guo Jing wondered. If so, I'm martially related to both Miss Cheng and the beggars.

"I am immensely grateful for the heroes' assistance," Miss Cheng said. "I shall obey your instructions."

"The lady is of such sanctity that it would be a disgrace if that despicable rake were to clap eyes on you even momentarily." Vigour Li's words caused the maiden to blush again. "Might I ask the lady to retreat to your mother's room with the esteemed ladies here? I know just the way to deal with such a miscreant."

"My martial skill is rudimentary, but I do not fear the ruffian. It would be improper of me to let the heroes take all the responsibility."

"Our Chief Hong and Immortal Wang were great friends. We are one family – your troubles are our troubles too."

A little part of Miss Cheng wanted to stay and take part in the action, but she was brought up to obey her seniors' instruction. Accepting the decision, she bowed. "I shall entrust the matter to Master Li and Brother Yu." With that, she hurried downstairs with her ladies-in-waiting.

Vigour Li lifted the embroidered quilt and planted himself – grubby clothes, dirty feet, unwashed body – onto Miss Cheng's scented silk bedding.

"Go downstairs and keep watch with our men," he ordered Prosper Yu. "No-one strikes before my signal."

When his companion had left the room, Vigour Li blew out the candle, let down the gauze around the bed and pulled the quilt over himself, before turning to hide his face against the pillow.

Lotus chuckled silently. Miss Cheng will never want to use those bedclothes again. Looks like the chieftain's mischievousness has rubbed off on his beggar followers. Who are they waiting for? This is going to be a fun night!

Lotus retreated further up the roof with Guo Jing. She could hear the men from the Beggar Clan positioning themselves around the garden.

Dik dok, dik dok, dong dong dong. The third watch.

A clattering stone broke the stillness of the night. Shadowy figures leapt over the garden wall in quick succession. Eight in total. They disappeared into the tower. The spark of flint and tinder flickered briefly in Miss Cheng's room. Guo Jing and Lotus caught a glimpse of the intruders – they were dressed from head to toe in white – Gallant Ouyang's disciples!

The women approached the bed. Stealth was their watchword. Two of them took up defensive positions as four more lifted the gauze, pulled the quilt over the sleeper's head and pressed the covers down. Their bounty was then deftly bundled up into a large sack, held open by the last two accomplices, who yanked the drawstring tight the moment the silk-cocooned captive was rolled inside.

The abduction only took a few moments. They had clearly done it many times.

As the kidnappers made their way downstairs, Lotus restrained Guo Jing from intercepting them. "Let the beggars go first."

Watching from their high vantage point, they made out four women darting across the garden, each holding a corner of the sack. The others guarded their flanks. A group of ten or so beggars set off after them with wooden staffs and bamboo canes in hand.

Once the two groups were some distance ahead, Guo Jing and Lotus jumped down from the tower and followed them all the way to a large house on the outskirts of the town. The women disappeared inside and the beggars scattered, surrounding the building.

Lotus led Guo Jing by the hand to the back of the house, where they scaled the perimeter wall. They tiptoed to the candlelit main hall and found a window to peer through.

This residence was not built for the living. Rows and rows of spirit tablets lined the walls. Horizontal wooden plaques, inscribed with the titles and ranks of illustrious forebears, covered the tie beams. This was a family temple, built to honour the dead.

A lone figure sat in the middle, illuminated by a handful of red candles. The flames flickered as he wafted his fan.

Gallant Ouyang. Just as Lotus and Guo Jing had expected.

They ducked and kept very still, lest he discover them.

The kidnappers entered and spoke in perfect unison as they set down their load: "My lord, Miss Cheng."

Gallant Ouyang's reply was addressed to those waiting beyond the confines of the room. "Why don't you come inside, friends?" he said with a sneer.

The beggars stayed silent, waiting for their leader's signal.

Tilting his head, the Master of White Camel Mount studied the sack. "I didn't expect such a great beauty to come with so little effort." He edged closer as he spoke, folding his fan slowly into an iron brush.

Judging from his actions and his expression, it was clear that Gallant Ouyang knew the bag did not contain Miss Cheng. He was prepared to use force on the imposter. Guo Jing and Lotus both knew that he was not a man given to mercy. Lotus held three steel needles between her fingers, ready to help the beggar the moment Gallant Ouyang lashed out.

But before anyone made a move – whoosh, whoosh! – two sleeve arrows hurtled at Gallant Ouyang's back. One of the beggars outside had deemed the situation too dangerous to wait for Vigour Li's sign.

The libertine reached casually behind him with his left hand and caught the first arrow between his index and middle fingers. With a slight twirl of his wrist, he trapped the other arrow between the fourth and little fingers of the same hand. Moments later, the arrows clattered to the floor in four broken pieces.

"Come out, Uncle Li!" Prosper Yu cried.

The sack containing Vigour Li ripped open and out flew two glinting daggers. The beggar rolled out and leapt to his feet, whipping the bag around him to create a soft shield.

Vigour Li knew it was unlikely he could subdue Gallant Ouyang through force alone. He had hoped the element of surprise would play to his advantage, but the Master of White Camel Mount had seen through his ploy.

"What an excellent transformation trick!" Gallant Ouyang jeered. "A young beauty turned into an old beggar!"

"In the last three days, four maidens have gone missing in this town. These were your fair deeds, were they not?"

"Surely the constables of a town as wealthy as Baoying aren't forced to beg on the side?"

"This town isn't my patch, but a little beggar told me about the abductions yesterday. I must say, it rather piqued this busybody's curiosity."

"Well, those girls weren't anything special. Since we're both martial men, if you want them, you can have them. I hear beggars find dead crabs delicious, so I'm sure you'll treasure them."

At Gallant Ouyang's signal, several of his women slipped out of sight and returned dragging four young women with them. The girls were visibly distressed, their clothes in disarray, their eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying.

The sight made Vigour Li's blood boil. "What is your name? Which martial school do you belong to?"

"My name is Ouyang," came the nonchalant reply. "So? Do you like them?"

"Prepare to defend yourself, scoundrel!"

"Happy to oblige." Gallant Ouyang stood back and let the beggar make the first move.

Vigour Li raised his right arm. Before he could launch his attack, a blur of white flew behind him and a gust of air fluttered at the back of his neck. If he had dived forward a fraction slower, Gallant Ouyang would have caught him by his vital points. He would have lost before the fight had even started. Embarrassed by his near defeat, the beggar swung his palm in a backhand slice without turning to face his opponent.

"Dragon-Subduing Palm," Lotus muttered.

Guo Jing nodded in agreement, watching closely.

Gallant Ouyang realised he could not counter this blow directly and swerved sideways, beyond its reach.

This gave a window for Vigour Li to turn and take a step closer for his next attack. Lifting his hands over his chest, the beggar drew a circle in the air before punching forward.

"Wayfaring Fist?" Guo Jing whispered.

Lotus nodded. The beggar's movements were heavy and leaden, lacking the necessary ease and fluidity. They would not have known that Vigour Li was a senior and respected figure of the Beggar Clan, in charge of the eastern and western routes of Huainan, which covered a large stretch of the Jiangsu and Anhui regions, nor that he was considered a formidable fighter of his rank, Disciple of Eight Pouches.

Taken aback by the beggar's steady stance and intricate moves, Gallant Ouyang started to take the fight seriously. Tucking his fan into his belt, he veered away from the beggar's attack and let his fist fly in retaliation – a bolt of lightning – at his opponent's right shoulder. Vigour Li blocked with a Beg for Alms, another move from the Wayfaring Fist.

Now, Gallant Ouyang threw a left hook. He waited until his opponent had raised his arms to block, then he darted round. He stood behind Vigour Li, his hands shaped like beaks, then pecked at the major acupressure points on the beggar's back.

Guo Jing and Lotus gasped. There was nothing Vigour Li could do to save himself.

The beggars outside had rushed into the hall when the fight started. Now, they all scrambled forward, desperate to help their Elder.

Vigour Li heard the air part behind him and felt the pressure bearing down on his back. He swung his arm sideways again in a backhand slice.

The same move from the Dragon-Subduing Palm he had used before.

This move was inspired by the way a tiger swings, jaws snapping, when its tail is pinned. It was also rooted in the Treading hexagram from the I'Ching. When the Dragon-Subduing Palm was distilled from twenty-eight to eighteen moves, the strike was sharpened and its name changed from Trapping the Tiger's Tail to Dragon Whips Tail.

Gallant Ouyang tilted backwards quickly to avoid its sting.

That was close! Vigour Li thought, as he turned to face his opponent once more.

The beggar managed to withstand another thirty or so moves by the skin of his teeth. He turned to Dragon Whips Tail another five or six times to get out of danger.

"Count Seven only taught him one move," Lotus observed quietly. Nodding, Guo Jing remembered how he had fought Greybeard Liang with just Haughty Dragon Repents. He felt even more honoured that he had learned fifteen moves, when this man from the Beggar Clan only knew one.

Gallant Ouyang was taking a step forward with each attack. He wanted to trap the beggar in a corner, to deny him of the space he needed to launch his one powerful strike.

But Vigour Li saw through the tactic. He stepped sideways to bring the fight back to the middle of the hall. Then he heard Gallant Ouyang laugh in derision.

Pang! A fist connected with his jaw.

Blinded by pain, it took a moment for Vigour Li to collect himself. By the time he had raised his arms to block, a second punch had connected with his body. Five or six blows landed in quick succession on his face and chest. His head started to spin and he could not summon any strength to his limbs. He swivelled and collapsed to the floor.

Several beggars rushed forward to catch Vigour Li. Gallant Ouyang grabbed the two closest to him and flung them aside. The men hit the wall with a sickening thud, slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. Everyone else froze, rooted on the spot.

"Did you really think I'd fall for a beggar's trick?" Gallant Ouyang's voice was dripping with disdain. He clapped once and two women ushered another young woman into the hall.

The tearful girl's hands were bound behind her. Her unblemished cheeks were devoid of colour, like a piece of white jade.

Miss Cheng.

Her capture shocked the beggars. They looked at each other, appalled by their failure. Even Lotus and Guo Jing could not fathom how she had been abducted.

Gallant Ouyang gave the signal and his women dragged Miss Cheng away.

"While our beggar friend was playing hide and seek upstairs, yours truly had the pleasure of meeting Miss Cheng downstairs and invited her back here to await your arrival."

He unfurled his fan and began to wave it leisurely. "The reputation of the Beggar Clan travels far and wide. Now, having crossed paths with the renowned Clan, I can only say that my jaw aches from laughing. Your fists may come in handy when stealing chickens and swiping dogs. Your palms may be helpful when begging for food and catching snakes. But to interfere with my business? I'll do your Chief Hong the honour of sparing this old beggar's life, but I'll gouge out his eyes so that no one will forget this day!" His hand was raised like a claw, ready to jab into Vigour Li's eyes.

5

"STOP!"

Before Gallant Ouyang could register who it was who stepped between himself and Vigour Li, he felt an enormous force closing in on his chest. He twisted out of its path. Though the palm strike never connected with his body, the fringes of its power rocked him off balance, forcing him to stumble two steps back.

Who has such mighty strength? Gallant Ouyang was shocked to find the youth he had first encountered at the Prince of Zhao's residence. He remembered the boy's kung fu being average, at best. How had he improved so much in just a few months?

"You feel no remorse for the evil you have done and you would hurt a good man. Chief Hong's followers will not be intimidated by the likes of you!"

"You're from the Beggar Clan too?" Gallant Ouyang cast Guo Jing a condescending look. The young man must have got lucky just now.

"I am not worthy to stand among the valiant men of the Beggar Clan. But may I offer a suggestion? Free Miss Cheng and go back west."

"What if I don't take your advice, child?"

"He'll beat you up!" Lotus answered for Guo Jing.

"My dear lady, I shall free Miss Cheng this instant if you wish it." Gallant Ouyang's heart leapt at the sight of the girl. "I would only ask for one thing in return. You. And I promise, not only will I free Miss Cheng, I will free all my women. And I will never seek another. What do you say?"

Lotus smiled back. "I'd love to see the west." She turned to Guo Jing. "What do you say?"

"No, no, no. Just you. Not that meddling fool."

Lotus swung a backhand – "How dare you insult him!" – catching Gallant Ouyang square in the face.

Under normal circumstances, Gallant Ouyang would never have let his guard down like that. But the sight of Lotus Huang sauntering over to him – her smile, her voice, her charm, her innocence – dazzled him. The last thing he had expected was for her to attack him, least of all with one of the most intricate and unpredictable moves from the Cascading Peach Blossom Palm. Even though her inner strength was limited, his left cheek now stung, as much with shame as anything else.

"Fie!" Gallant Ouyang lashed out with a strike aimed at her chest.

Standing her ground, Lotus flung both fists at the crown of his head.

A punch is a small price to pay to feel her bosom, Gallant Ouyang said to himself. His angry reaction was the perfect cover for a lecherous grope. But the moment his hands grazed her clothes, a fierce pain skewered his fingertips. Hedgehog Chainmail, he recalled with a grimace, flinging his arms up hurriedly to block her.

Lotus chuckled. "It's a bad idea to fight me. Only I get to do the hitting; you can't touch me!"

Her taunt fanned the flames of Gallant Ouyang's desire. It was like an itch he could not scratch. Surely, if he killed the boy, she would have no reason to resist his advances. Keeping his eyes trained on her, he kicked back, fast and merciless, in one of his uncle Viper Ouyang's deadliest moves. Once his foot connected with Guo Jing's chest, the young man's ribs would shatter, puncturing his lungs.

The attack was so sudden, there was no time for Guo Jing to duck. But no-one, least of all Gallant Ouyang, foresaw that Guo Jing would fight back head on, swinging his arm horizontally in a backhand slice.

Pang!

Guo Jing took the kick on his hip, but he struck Gallant Ouyang on his leg. The force of each impact sent a bolt of excruciating pain through their bones. They kept their eyes locked as they spun round to face each other. Then they lunged simultaneously.

The beggars could not believe their eyes. How could this boy know Elder Li's life-saving move? His was faster and more powerful too!

In fact, Guo Jing had not studied the move, but since it was rooted in Dragon-Subduing Palm, he could imitate its form well enough to protect himself. If he had known how to channel his full strength into it, Gallant Ouyang would have suffered a crippling injury to his thigh.

By now, Vigour Li had been dragged out of harm's way and he was marvelling at Guo Jing's seeming mastery of Dragon Whips Tail. He watched the young man battle Gallant Ouyang – each palm strike appeared to be in the same vein.

Where had he learned so many moves of Dragon-Subduing Palm? the Beggar Clan Elder wondered. It's Chief Hong's most coveted repertoire. I was only taught one as a reward for risking my life for the Clan! Who is this young man?

Gallant Ouyang was also amazed by Guo Jing's improvement.

In no time, Guo Jing had taken more than forty moves from Gallant Ouyang and responded with the fifteen palm strikes several times over. His knowledge of the Dragon-Subduing Palm was sufficient to keep him from harm, but it was not enough to turn the fight to his advantage. Gallant Ouyang's kung fu was not only far superior, he also had years of combat experience and training over Guo Jing.

After a dozen or so more moves, the Master of White Camel Mount changed his tactics. Darting back and forth with dazzling speed, he bombarded Guo Jing with feints and punches from all directions.

Guo Jing was quickly overwhelmed. He suffered a kick to his hip and, for a moment, lost his footing. He had become predictable. Starting from the fifteenth move, he launched the full repertoire in reverse.

The new sequence forced Gallant Ouyang back onto the defensive. He had to work out the new pattern and watch for gaps again before he could swoop in with a deadly attack.

Guo Jing had now performed the Dragon-Subduing Palm two more times, first in reverse and then in sequence. For a moment, he wavered.

What should come next? Haughty Dragon Repents? Dragon in the Field?

His hesitation gave Gallant Ouyang the chance he had been waiting for.

Gallant Ouyang pounced, grabbing at his shoulder.

Nothing Guo Jing had learned could counter this blow. He stopped mid-move, flipped his palm and slapped downwards.

Smack! A blow to the wrist.

Gallant Ouyang leapt back in surprise, turning his sore arm to check for injury. Luckily, there was no fracture.

The Master of White Camel Mount had been certain that the boy had a limited repertoire of palm thrusts. Where had this new move come from?

Guo Jing was equally shocked by the efficacy of his improvisation.

My shoulder, left hip and the right side of my waist are exposed; perhaps I could come up— Before Guo Jing could finish this thought, Gallant Ouyang rained down another torrent of thrusts and punches.

Quick wits had always eluded Guo Jing. He would not be able to create a new move even if he had a fortnight of peace and quiet. It would take a miracle to do so in the heat of battle, when his mind could barely react fast enough to fend off his opponent's attacks. Nonetheless, he tried.

Where had these three new moves come from? Gallant Ouyang was infuriated. He had thought he had the measure of Guo Jing's repetitive kung fu and could soon defeat him. Now, he had to bide his time once more while he worked out these new patterns. He had yet to realise that Guo Jing's new moves contained no substance. He would slow down, wear out Guo Jing through a battle of attrition instead.

Then he noticed one of the moves had changed.

He hasn't mastered this one yet! Gallant Ouyang congratulated himself.

He leapt up. His left hand struck down at Guo Jing's cranium. His right foot flew towards Guo Jing's left hip.

Guo Jing froze. What should he do to deflect this brutal attack on his weakest, undefended parts? He abandoned his move and swerved sideways.

But Gallant Ouyang had put all his strength into the kick. There was no chance Guo Jing could react fast enough to evade the blow.

Lotus flicked her right hand, hurling eight steel needles at the cad.

Still in mid-movement, Gallant Ouyang reached for the folding fan tucked into the back of his collar, flicked it open and knocked the needles off course with a gentle flourish.

Lotus's intervention had not made the slightest difference to the power of his kick. It was going to force Guo Jing to the ground and keep him there – too injured to fight back.

But, before his foot could make contact, Gallant Ouyang felt a light tap on his ankle. Then a mild numbing sensation spread, as if he had been struck on a vital point. He managed to land the kick on Guo Jing's side, but all the strength had drained from his leg.

Gallant Ouyang backed away, shocked.

"Who dares to interfere with the Master of White Camel Mount? Show yourself!"

He felt the air stir above his head and he ducked. But, whatever it was, it was travelling at great speed . . . He could feel something in his mouth. He spat it out in a panic.

A chicken bone?

Gallant Ouyang looked up.

A cloud of dust was drifting down from the tie beams.

He jumped sideways.

Pop!

He had barely found his footing when it struck him. Something landed in his mouth. His teeth rattled, his gums felt sore.

A chicken thigh bone.

Gallant Ouyang was consumed with rage. He had never been toyed with like this before. He sprang up and struck at the shadow scurrying across the beams. While he was still airborne, he felt a hand glide across his face and then something was stuffed into his hand. He landed and unfurled his fingers.

The half-chewed remains of two chicken feet.

Laughter rang out from above.

"So, what do you think about us beggars now? Did our chicken-stealing, dog-swiping kung fu impress you?"

6

"COUNT SEVEN!" LOTUS HUANG AND GUO JING EXCLAIMED, AS the beggars bowed and hailed their leader with a cry of "Chief!"

Perching aloft on a tie beam, his legs swinging in the air, Count Seven Hong paid little attention to the commotion at ground level; the remnants of a chicken in his hand held his full interest.

Not him again! Gallant Ouyang groaned inwardly as a chill spread through him. He could have killed me thrice over just now. If he had used darts or needles instead of chicken bones . . . A smart man would make an exit while he still could.

He made a show of faux deference, proclaiming in his most sonorous voice, "Uncle Hong, what a pleasure to see you again! Your nephew kowtows to you." Yet he remained resolutely upright.

"Why are you still dallying in the Central Plains?" Count Seven said, his mouth full of chicken. "Your wicked ways will get you killed here. Is that what you want?"

"I was told that Master Hong is the only truly invincible martial master of the Central Plains," Gallant Ouyang said. "I would survive if my elder could refrain from harassing me. My uncle the Viper bade me to always be reverential in your presence. He said that a master such as yourself would not lower himself to enter into an altercation with a junior, for such behaviour would make him a laughing stock among the heroes of the jianghu."

"I know you're trying to outmanoeuvre me with your clever words – make it seem unmannerly for me to strike you," Count Seven said with a hollow laugh. "But there are many in the Central Plains who would gladly take your life. This old beggar needn't raise a hand. However, there is one thing we do need to settle. I heard you were disdainful of my chicken-stealing, dog-swiping fists and my food-begging, snake-catching palms. Did my ears deceive me?"

"I did not realise this old hero was your disciple. Those were rash words spoken in the heat of battle. I am certain Uncle Hong and the old hero will overlook any inadvertent offence."

"You call him a hero, but he can't beat you." Count Seven leapt down from his perch. "So, are you saying you're the greater hero? Have you no shame?"

Gallant Ouyang bit his tongue and swallowed his retort, knowing he had no chance against this rambling old codger.

"Think you can make the Central Plains cower with what the Venom taught you?" Count Seven snorted. "Alas, there's no place for you here, so long as this old beggar is still around."

"You and my uncle are both regarded to be among the Five Greats. As a junior, I have no choice but always to obey my seniors."

"Oh, so now you're insinuating that I'm using my seniority to bully you!"

Gallant Ouyang's silence was a clear affirmative.

"I have a large family of beggars – big ones, small ones, middling ones – yet not one of them is my disciple. Li over there learned one simple move from me. I didn't teach him Wayfaring Fist. And he's still got a long way to go with that. You may look down on my chicken-stealing moves, but if I did pass my knowledge on to one person, I'm certain that they'd be just as good as you."

"Of course, your disciple would most certainly prevail. But we all know how advanced your kung fu is. I fear it would be difficult for any disciple of yours to acquire even one-tenth of your skills."

"Is that another of your veiled insults?"

"Definitely, Count Seven," Lotus Huang cut Gallant Ouyang off before he could deny it. "He's cursing you. I know what he's thinking. He thinks that, although you're a great martial artist, you're an awful teacher. You've never managed to pass on your knowledge. You just share a piece here, a morsel there. There isn't a single student who's successfully learned all you know."

Glaring at Lotus, Count Seven said, "Lass, I know what you're trying to do, and I know what the lad is saying." His hand shot out like a flash of lightning and snatched Gallant Ouyang's fan from his grasp.

With a flick of his wrist, Count Seven unfolded it and studied its decorations. Several peonies, with the signature Xu Xi. He was unfamiliar with the famous artist of the Northern Song period, but even he could tell it was masterfully painted.

"Awful!" he spat.

The calligraphy on the flip side was signed Master of White Camel Mount. He pointed this out to Lotus. "What do you think?"

"Vulgar." Lotus lifted her eyebrows in disdain. "I'm certain a scribe at the Tong Ren Pawnbroker wrote it for him. He doesn't look to me like someone who knows how to use a brush."

Gallant Ouyang glowered at Lotus. He was incredibly proud of being both a consummate martial artist and a first-rate calligrapher. Yet, it only took one look from her coy, half-smiling eyes for all his annoyance to dissipate.

Count Seven wiped his lips with the fan, smudging the painting and the calligraphy with the chicken grease. He then crushed the fan and tossed it away like a piece of waste paper. No-one else gave much thought to Count Seven's actions, but they struck fear into Gallant Ouyang – the fan's monture was made of the strongest steel.

Then the Beggar Clan Chief spoke. "If I were to fight you, you'd never admit defeat, even with your last breath. But I can take a disciple now and you two can fight."

"I had the pleasure of exchanging a few dozen moves with our brother, here," Gallant Ouyang said, pointing at Guo Jing, "and I was fortunate enough to gain the upper hand before Master Hong's interference. Were you close to winning the fight, Brother Guo?"

Guo Jing shook his head. "I cannot beat you."

Gallant Ouyang beamed.

Count Seven threw his head back and laughed. "Are you my disciple, Guo Jing?"

"No, sir, I cannot claim such an honour," Guo Jing replied, remembering how Count Seven had responded to his kowtows in the pine forest.

The exchange perplexed the Master of White Camel Mount. I don't think the old man would lie about such a thing. But then who taught the boy those intricate palm thrusts?

"See?" Count Seven glared at Gallant Ouyang, then turned to Guo Jing. "If I refuse to take you as my disciple, the lass will haunt me with all her infernal tricks until I change my mind. This old beggar hasn't got the patience to tussle with little girls. I'll admit defeat and take you as my protégé."

"How are you going to thank me?" Lotus asked with a smirk. "I've found you a good disciple. Now you've got someone to pass on your knowledge to. I deserve some credit, don't I?" She had got her way at last.

Guo Jing fell to his knees, knocked his head on the floor and cried, "Shifu!" He had told the Six Freaks of the South at Roaming Cloud Manor about his encounter with Count Seven and how he had learned Dragon-Subduing Palm. They were thrilled by Guo Jing's good fortune and gave their blessing should the legendary Master wish to take him as a disciple.

"Come, silly lad, let's get started!" Count Seven began to demonstrate the remaining three moves from the Dragon-Subduing Palm – in front of everyone.

The Beggar's so eager to win, he's forgotten I'm right here! He's clearly soft in the head, Gallant Ouyang said to himself as he watched Count Seven Hong intently.

The moves seemed rather uninspiring to Gallant's eyes, but the intricacy probably lay in the explanations whispered in Guo Jing's ear. The theory behind them must be quite complex, since Guo Jing kept shaking his head in confusion.

Count Seven Hong repeated the instructions again and again. Eventually, his patience was rewarded by a few hesitant nods from his new disciple. It was clear, however, that the young man had comprehended little.

He must be incredibly thick, Gallant Ouyang concluded. I won't complain, though – he's given me more time to observe!

Guo Jing was at last ready to try out the moves. After going through them half a dozen times, Count Seven said, "Well done, lad. You've mastered half their power. Now, the time has come to beat this wicked lecher."

Guo Jing took two steps forward – whoosh! – his palm forced Gallant Ouyang to shift sideways. But Gallant Ouyang latched onto his own momentum, swinging his fist back.

Gallant Ouyang expected to defeat Guo Jing easily. Not only could he anticipate the boy's moves – old and new – he was also confident that Guo Jing had barely grasped one-tenth of the intricacy of these new techniques. But Gallant Ouyang had not understood that the power of the Dragon-Subduing Palm lay in the channelling of strength, not the complexity of the movements. That was why he – or martial masters like Greybeard Liang and Cyclone Mei – could not unravel its secrets, even when Guo Jing repeatedly launched the same few sequences on them. Nor did he realise the three moves Guo Jing had just learned completed the set of the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, and that this knowledge amplified the force of every other thrust Guo Jing made.

Gallant Ouyang was now struggling. He had tried four different boxing techniques in succession. None of them could stand up to Guo Jing's steady and repetitive onslaught.

Another score of moves were exchanged. Gallant Ouyang was growing anxious.

My uncle has trained me personally since childhood and this boy has studied with the Old Beggar only a few minutes. I might not be able to win this without resorting to our secret kung fu. I cannot allow the Beggar to appear stronger than my uncle!

Steeled by fresh resolve, he threw a straight punch at Guo Jing.

Guo Jing raised his arm to block, but immediately felt a thump on his neck. Somehow, Gallant Ouyang had managed to snake around his guard by bending his arm at a distinctly unnatural angle. Had the bone in his forearm just melted away?

Guo Jing ducked in shock and pulled himself away. Then he twisted round, palm thrusting in near panic.

Gallant Ouyang stepped sideways and threw another punch.

Guo Jing swerved, avoiding contact. But the fist pursued him whichever way he dodged, as if Gallant Ouyang's arm could bend like a whip.

Guo Jing moved to block a jab to his right. Yet, somehow, the fist slipped and slithered away, connecting with his left shoulder. He had no idea how to counter these wandering punches and took three heavy blows, one after another. He was flummoxed.

"Guo Jing, stop. Let him have this round."

Guo Jing backed away to lick his wounds, putting several paces between them.

"I am full of admiration for your exceptional kung fu," Guo Jing said to Gallant Ouyang. "It is amazing how you bend your arms."

Gallant Ouyang turned to Lotus, puffed up in triumph.

"This Flaccid Snake Fist must have been inspired by the Venom's serpentine companions," Count Seven Hong said, still mulling over Gallant Ouyang's last phase of attack. "It is indeed exceptional and I will admit that I can think of no way to overcome your kung fu right now. It's your lucky day . . . Now, get out of my sight!"

Gallant Ouyang was horrified that the Beggar had recognised the source of his martial secret instantly. His uncle's warning came back to him: Use the Sacred Snake Fist only in matters of life and death.

If Uncle knew what had just happened, he would mete out the worst form of punishment . . . The thought wiped out all the joy of victory. He grudgingly put his hands together in a gesture of respect and turned to leave.

7

"NOT SO HASTY," LOTUS HUANG CALLED.

Gallant Ouyang spun around, his heart thumping in anticipation. But she took no notice of him and spoke only to Count Seven Hong.

"Why not consider taking on two disciples today?" She fell to her knees. "Good things always come in pairs."

Count Seven shook his head and laughed. "I've gone against every principle I hold dear by accepting him. Your father ranks with me as one of the Greats. Why would he let you call me Shifu?"

"Oh, you're afraid of Papa!" As usual, Lotus knew exactly how to get her way.

"What? No! I'll take you as my disciple. What can the Heretic do? Eat me alive?"

"It's settled, then! You can't go back on your word. Papa will be thrilled! He's told me many times that there are only two truly great martial masters left in the world, now that Double Sun Wang Chongyang has passed. You and him. He thought the Southern King was very good too. But, as for the rest –" she glanced at Gallant Ouyang – "for them, he has only disdain. Now, Shifu, how do beggars catch snakes? Will you teach me?"

The Beggar was not entirely sure why she wanted to learn that. But, since she had many tricks up her sleeves, he played along and instructed her with mock gravitas: "Fork two fingers, like this. Pinch the snake seven inches from its head, and it will be instantly immobilised."

"What if it's particularly big and strong?"

"Wiggle your fingers as bait, to draw its attention. Then strike with your other hand."

"I'll need to be very agile."

"Of course." Count Seven Hong paused. "There's also an ointment you should spread on your hands. That way, even if you get bitten, you'll be fine."

"Shifu, would you put the ointment on my hands?" Her earnest tone belied a wink.

Snake tricks were the work of the most junior beggars of the Clan, and, as their leader, Count Seven Hong did not carry the ointment on his person. So he improvised. He uncorked his red gourd and rubbed some wine into Lotus's hands.

Lotus sniffed and pulled a face. At last, she turned to Gallant Ouyang. "I'm the latest and last disciple of Hero Hong, chieftain of all the beggars. I'd like to take on this Flaccid Snake Fist of yours. The ointment on my hands is poison to your kind. Don't say I didn't warn you!"

"It would be my pleasure to die in your hands," he replied, flashing her a lecherous grin. He knew he only had to reach out and he would win. Nonetheless, he silently promised to avoid her hands.

"Your other moves are too common, hardly worth my while. I'm only interested in your Flaccid Snake Fist. If you use anything else, then you lose."

"Your wish is my command."

Lotus smiled sweetly. "You may be a villain, but you're always rather civil to me. Here comes the first move!"

A punch flew at Gallant Ouyang – whoosh! – Count Seven Hong's Wayfaring Fist.

Gallant Ouyang leaned to the side and out of its path. She immediately followed up with a horizontal left kick and a grappling right hook. This was her father's invention, Cascading Peach Blossom Palm. It did not matter who had taught her the attacking move, as long as it helped her defeat him.

The speed and the complexity of her attack forced Gallant Ouyang to take her challenge seriously. His arm shot forward with explosive speed, then bent suddenly, his fist hurtling towards her shoulder. Then he remembered – Hedgehog Chainmail! He wrenched it back at the last moment to avoid a bloody fist.

Lotus saw her chance and raised her palms to box his ears.

Gallant Ouyang twirled his sleeves upward with a flick of his wrists to guide her hands away. He could only aim for her head. Her body was protected by the chainmail and he had promised himself he would not grab her by the hands because of the "ointment".

But how could I be so unmannerly as to strike her cheeks or pull her hair? he asked himself as he ducked and dodged.

Leaping away from another of Lotus's palm strikes, Gallant Ouyang had an idea. He tore his sleeves and took the short respite his retreat had given him to wind the fabric around his hands. Then he flipped his palms down, hooked his fingers and grabbed at her wrists with the grappling technique.

"That's not Flaccid Snake Fist! You've lost!" Lotus tapped the ground with one hand to propel herself away.

"Ah, I apologise for my lapse."

"Your Flaccid Snake Fist is as common as the rest of your kung fu. It can't subdue a disciple of Count Seven Hong. You agree with me, don't you? Remember the last time we sparred? At the Jin Prince's palace? You had Greybeard Liang, Hector Sha, Tiger Peng, Lama Supreme Wisdom and that man with horns on his head – Browbeater Hou – to help you. Six grown men against one girl. I admitted defeat because none of you was worth my energy. Since you and I have each won once, shall we fight another round to determine the winner?"

Vigour Li and the other beggars admired the intricacy of Lotus's kung fu, but it was clear that Gallant Ouyang was the superior martial artist. They doubted her claim of defeating masters like Tiger Peng and Hector Sha. If she had, it was probably through trickery, just as she had cornered Gallant Ouyang, a moment ago.

But why would she want to fight again? They simply could not understand it. They also found their Chief's indifference baffling. Count Seven Hong was munching what was left of the chicken with a smile, licking and sucking the bones clean with relish. He made no move to interfere.

"It would be my pleasure to entertain the lady, should she wish to fight. I'm equally happy, whoever wins."

"When we were at the Prince of Zhao's residence, we were surrounded by your friends," Lotus rattled on, ignoring Gallant Ouyang's reply. "If I had won, they would most certainly have come to your aid, which was why I didn't show you my real kung fu. But, today, you have your friends –" she pointed to the women dressed in white – "and I have mine, too. You have a greater number, but I will overlook this advantage. Why don't you draw another circle on the floor? We will honour the same rules: whoever gets thrown out first is the loser. Now that I'm a disciple of the renowned Count Seven, I shall grant you another advantage: there's no need to bind your hands."

As usual, Lotus was twisting logic and inverting facts, but she spoke with such grace and reason that Gallant Ouyang did not know how to reply. He could not summon enough indignance to refuse her. So, obediently, he extended his right foot three feet from his body and, using his left leg as a pivot, drew a perfect circle, an inch deep and six feet in diameter, in the floor tiles. It was hard not to be impressed by the libertine's kung fu.

Lotus stepped inside the circle and asked, "Are we doing this the civil way or the martial way?"

"Would you mind elaborating?"

"If we do it the civil way, we take turns. The first person launches three moves and their opponent is not allowed to make any counter-attack. With the martial way, you do what you want, whenever you want. You can use your Dead Snake Fist, your Live Rat Fist, anything you fancy. Whoever's pushed out of the circle first is the loser."

"But, of course, we shall do it the civil way."

"Good choice. You won't be able to keep up if we do it the martial way. At least, now, you have some hope. Well, shall I be magnanimous today and grant you yet another advantage? Who makes the first move? You or me?"

"Of course, it should be my lady."

"You are sly." Lotus smiled coyly. "You always pick what's best for you." She thrust her palm at Gallant Ouyang before he could take back his gentlemanly offer.

He noticed the air glisten and a shimmering cloud, wider than the circle, flew towards him. She must have thrown some secret weapon!

He could have swept them away easily with his fan or his sleeves. But the former had been destroyed by Count Seven Hong and he had torn the latter off in a bid to win the last fight. He could also dodge them comfortably by lurching sideways, but then he would land outside the circle – and lose.

He only had one option. He tapped his foot and leapt half a dozen feet off the ground. A deluge of needles shot past, underneath his feet.

When Gallant Ouyang's upward momentum was spent and he started to descend, Lotus shouted, "Second move!"

This time, she waved both hands, letting fly more than a hundred needles – the Skyful of Petals technique Count Seven had invented to counter Gallant Ouyang's snakes. She flung them far and wide, and with as much force as possible. Everywhere the libertine looked, needles glinted in the air.

Gallant Ouyang's kung fu could not help him defy gravity.

This is it! What a savage wench! Silently cursing Lotus's cruelty, he steeled himself to meet his end.

Suddenly, he felt his collar tighten and his body soaring upwards instead of plunging down. He sensed the rush of air as the swarm of needles whizzed past below. He heard the metallic clinking of the needles as they rained down on the floor tiles. He had been saved, but, before he could rejoice, he realised he was hurtling across the room.

Once more, his martial training failed him. The force that propelled him was so powerful that he could not latch onto its momentum to flip himself upright. He landed heavily on his left shoulder. It was clear that only Count Seven Hong would have the internal strength to make such a throw.

Avoiding all eye contact, Gallant Ouyang jumped back onto his feet and stormed out of the ancestral temple, his cheeks hot with anger and shame. His women rushed after him in panic.

Lotus Huang went up to Miss Cheng and cut the binds around her wrists. The young woman took Lotus by the hand and whispered her thanks, but remained shyly in a corner, with her head hung low.

Lotus turned to Count Seven Hong. "Shifu, why did you help him?"

"The lad deserves to die for the loathsome things he's done, but his uncle and I go back a long way. The Venom would be offended if I let you injure his nephew." Count Seven then put his hand on Lotus's shoulder. "But you preserved your shifu's face today and that should be rewarded. Is there anything you would like?"

"Not your bamboo stick, that's for sure!" Lotus stuck out her tongue.

"I couldn't give you that, even if you asked for it. There are some moves I'd like to teach you, but I've been feeling rather lazy of late."

"I'll make a few nice dishes to get you going!"

Count Seven's eyebrows flew up in excitement, then he sighed. "Alas, time is not on our side." He gestured at Vigour Li and the beggars. "I have so many Clan affairs to attend to."

By now, the beggars had gathered around to thank Guo Jing and Lotus for their help, and congratulated them on becoming Count Seven Hong's disciples. They were all envious of the young couple's good fortune. Their chieftain's refusal to train protégés was well known in the Beggar Clan – even his favourite Clan members were only granted a move or two, and only when he was in an exceptionally good mood. How had they gained such favour with the Chief?

"We would like to organise a banquet, here, at this temple, tomorrow, to celebrate this joyous occasion," Vigour Li proposed.

"I fear they'll find our vagrant ways too disgusting and be put off their food!" Count Seven teased.

"It would be our pleasure to feast with you." Guo Jing accepted the invitation readily. "I would love to get to know Brother Li better. You are a true hero."

Vigour Li was touched by Guo Jing's modesty and warmth. This young man is the reason why I still have my eyes. He was full of gratitude.

"Hey, don't talk my disciple into becoming a beggar!" Count Seven wagged a finger at Vigour Li, then turned to Lotus. "Why did you say you're my last disciple? Are you saying I can't take on another?"

"Shifu must disregard my ramblings if he wishes to share his knowledge with others." Lotus smiled. "Though, as the saying goes, 'When a thing is rare, it is precious' – if there are too many of us, then we won't be special."

"You think you're so special?" Count Seven snorted. "See Miss Cheng home safely. We beggars will steal a few chickens for tomorrow."

Once the beggars were on their way, Lotus led Miss Cheng out of the temple, with Guo Jing trailing behind.

"Your martial uncle, Elder Ma, taught Guo Jing. Elder Qiu and Elder Wang like him a lot too." Lotus tried to make the young woman feel more at ease. "You are of the same martial family."

Miss Cheng stole a glance at Guo Jing and her face immediately turned crimson, but she managed to murmur a "Brother Guo" in greeting. She gradually opened up to Lotus as they walked. Though still speaking in hesitant whispers, she told Lotus that her given name was Emerald, and explained how she had come to receive martial training from the Sage of Tranquillity, Sun Bu'er. However, bound as she was by the traditional etiquette that came hand in hand with a privileged and sheltered upbringing, her words were directed at Lotus alone and her eyes were firmly fixed on her feet. She dared not speak a word to Guo Jing. Whenever she lifted her eyes and caught sight of him, her cheeks flushed bright red once more. Emerald Cheng's manner was in every respect the opposite of Lotus's forthright confidence and ease.