Chapter 51 -Affairs of old

"Back then, Rong Xuan and I, with a few others, were still in the vigor of youth. Full of ourselves, we gravitated towards each other as, I suppose, birds of a seedy feather were bound to do. Our little clique often gathered to compare techniques and wine together. Amongst us, Rong Xuan's kung-fu was the best; he was also the one with the sharpest mind. One day, after a few drinks, he was suddenly overcome with profound emotion: he declared that being born a man into this world, one had to accomplish something great. Else, wouldn't leading a mediocre life and passing away in obscurity be a terrible waste?"

Whether because of his weakened condition or because those stories were from such a long time ago that they required careful recollection, Long Quan spoke at an agonizingly slow pace, and with many pauses. Ye Baiyi's mood couldn't be deciphered from his impassive face. Wen Kexing, however, had quieted down. He listened raptly to their narrator in a rare display of concentration.

"Rong Xuan said that, in the vast and profound world of martial arts," the old man carried on, "each school within jianghu had its ancestral techniques which presented both strengths and shortcomings. And that every decade or century, a genius would be born into wulin who'd revolutionize the discipline with their style and become the most revered master of a generation. Huashan, Kunshan, Cangshan, et cetera, were founded thusly. Unfortunately, the successors to those geniuses have oftentimes been lackluster, as they only knew how to stiffly repeat the teachings of their forebears. Hence, each generation that came after would become worse than the one prior, leading to decadence and, in due time, the assured death of a school. It was therefore rather regrettable that every famous martial arts clan in existence would attach such importance to set traditions just because they were their own. That they'd treat their tiny knowledge of kung-fu as a treasure to be buried at the bottom of a chest, away from prying eyes, because it was in this way that many godly techniques and many secret methods had been lost to time. In Rong Xuan's opinion, the very concept of 'schools' was stupid..."

At that point in the old man's narration, Ye Baiyi snorted.

"Those were originally my words," he said. "The little brat did nothing but repeat them like a parrot. Anyone who takes pride in coming from a so-called 'kung-fu school' is a useless rice tub — you don't even have to look at them to know it. They can only learn what's being taught to them, and they are only skilled in things they've learned. What difference, then, is there between them and circus monkeys trained to juggle? As for 'godly techniques' — weren't those created by men, to begin with? People smash each other's skulls open to vie for the such-and-such secret tome, but in the end, they are only picking at leftovers from the slits of another man's teeth. They then set the gleaned scraps as gold standards to worship. Tell me, is it because they think so-called masters are born with two brains, or is it an admission that they, themselves, were born with none?"

Upon hearing that, Zhou Zishu couldn't hold back a chuckle. Only for Ye Baiyi to glare at him.

"What are you laughing for?" the man in white snapped. "You're the very result of awful teachings from Qin Huaizhang, that buffoon."1

Interrupted, Long Que contemplated Ye Baiyi.

"Venerable elder, you are indeed an exceptional man," he said after a long while. "With wisdom beyond mere mortal reckoning."

Then he reprised his narration.

"As a result, Rong Xuan came up with an idea. All of us agreed in secret that we would steal our respective clan's ancestral manual and gather them together in one place. We then built an Armoury within which we could study them comprehensively to create a technique that'd combine all of their strengths. I devised the mechanism protecting the Armoury myself — the fabled Crystal Armour. Once its fragments were reunited, an additional key was needed to open it. We divided the Armour amongst ourselves for safekeeping and entrusted the key to Lady Rong..."

Ye Baiyi interrupted him again.

"You say that you aimed to combine the strengths of all the clans' techniques? That was pure bullshit on Rong Xuan's part: in this world, benefits and drawbacks are interdependent. Could you ever combine the Diamond Palm with E'mei's Thorn Strike? Can you ever make a beefy man squeeze into the skirt of a tiny girl? It's a simple logic that even children could comprehend. If you truly understand the essence of martial arts, you can glean knowledge from the drifting of flowers and leaves, from the rise and fall of the tides. If you don't, then you could steal all the secret tomes under the heavens, and you'd still be no better than a mere copyist of books."

Long Que didn't reply; he merely gave a drawn-out sigh.

Amongst the few of them present, although the others may have no concept of it, Zhou Zishu knew for a fact that, within jianghu, to steal the ancestral manuals of one's clan or to reveal its techniques to outsiders was a capital crime. From that, he inferred the reason why Zhao Jing was cast out by his school while he was young.

"That 'clique' of yours which you speak of," he couldn't refrain from asking, "was it formed by the up-and-coming youngsters of the Five Clans, perchance? People such as Zhao Jing, Gao Chong, Shen Shen, and others of their generation, for example?"

— It would certainly explain why Sir Gao kept so close-lipped about the Crystal Armour. Why he had remained vague in his explanations till the end.

Long Que nodded as he gave a gloomy chuckle.

"Indeed, it was. Laughably, at the time we thought of ourselves as groundbreakers who were transcending the limits of our clans' teachings. And what Rong Xuan presented us with was half of the Hermetics of the Six Combinations."

Ye Baiyi frowned. For once, he didn't take a self-important tone when he spoke.

"The Hermetics is an age-old book fabled to have been penned in antiquity. The original manuscript has in reality been lost. A... a friend of mine came upon a surviving, partial copy. He spent twenty years reconstituting the missing parts to recreate a full tome. It was divided into two volumes; the upper and the lower scrolls. Rong Xuan stole the lower scroll, while the upper one remained in Everbright Mountain. My friend, he... we destroyed it afterward."

From those words, Zhou Zishu gleaned two pieces of information.

For one, a second person was residing in Everbright Mountain who was of the same generation as Ye Baiyi and with whom the glutton was close. For another, that person had dared reconstitute the Hermetics, which could only mean that they were skilled as well.

Zhou Zishu arched his brow, recalling the time when Ye Baiyi had told him, "Have I ever said I was the Ancient Monk?"

Did it mean that, after all, the mysterious second person was the true Ancient Monk?

And then, if Ye Baiyi had come down Everbright Mountain on his own, claiming to act in the name of the Ancient Monk, was it because that other person was too indisposed to travel... or was it. After all, he was already no longer part of this world?

Those considerations danced across Zhou Zishu's mind and slipped away in a mere second as Long Que reprised his narration:

"We all had a look at the half of the ancient tome Rong Xuan brought, but its content was too abstruse to decipher and none of us could grasp it fully. In those days, as we thirsted to crack its mysteries, we'd forsake sleep and food to overturn old books of records in the hope to find the tiniest clue that'd help us annotate the Hermetics — its attraction was that strong. Rong Xuan said that if we could pierce the secrets of that time, we'd fully penetrate the mysteries of the universe and achieve oneness with it..."

To achieve oneness with the universe was the ultimate ideal that men had sought after since the dawn of time. It was the epitome of all pursuits and no human could resist its siren call.2

However, in this world, so-called shortcuts didn't exist. Just as how the most precious materials were always found in the most perilous places, the more powerful an object could make someone, the more strenuous would be the test it imposed upon their heart.

And the mightier a kung-fu technique was, the easier it was to incur negative consequences from is-practicing it.

At that point in the old man's narration, even Ye Baiyi quieted down.

"Amongst us, Rong Xuan was the one who progressed the furthest. He was also the one whose obsession ran deepest. The book was like a drug on which he was hooked, but none of us noticed because we too were addicted... Until, one day, he declared that he had pierced its true meaning: he said that the fundamental theory underlying the Hermetics could be subsumed as 'Destruction before re-creation; no creation without destruction '."

Ye Baiyi was stunned.

"What...?" he muttered.

Long Que's hand trembled. His entire body trembled.

"The Hermetics had a line that went 'When one arrives at the precipice, one may glimpse into heavens' gate'," he said. "But then, what could that 'precipice' be? It could mean crippling one's kung-fu. Or it could mean severing one's meridians. Or even taking one's own life..."

At that, the oddest expression crept across Ye Baiyi's face. "And that's what you all thought?" he asked.

Long Que barely had time to nod before Ye Baiyi burst out into a fit of wall-shaking guffaws. Although even in laughter, the face of the man in white remained stiff. Not a single line crinkled the corner of his eyes as his facial muscles seemed to twitch preternaturally, lending him a vague air of sorrow instead of mirth.

"Crippling one's kung-fu, severing one's meridians, taking one's life..." Ye Baiyi repeated, gasping. "Hahaha! And you came up with that all by yourselves, didn't you?"

"We were crazy back then. All of us," Long Que replied in a wooden voice. "Each of us had become increasingly impatient and hot-tempered; Rong Xuan even more so. He said that to achieve something outstanding, we had to demonstrate outstanding courage. That we had to take paths no other had even dared contemplate... At the time, Yu Zhui was already pregnant. Even though that wicked book had affected me as well, I wasn't in so deep that I would abandon my wife and unborn child. And so I was the first one to back out. Since the endeavor was risky, they asked me to stay and assist them in the ritual."

The old man sighed before he carried on.

"They sat down in a circle and chose a time, swearing that if they failed, they'd die for a higher purpose without regret. But then, to my surprise, when the hour came, everyone beside Rong Xuan backed out at the last moment.

As the saying goes, they all reined in their horse at the edge of the cliff3, without even consulting each other first."

"What's surprising about that?" Ye Baiyi said in an icy tone. "Other people train in martial arts either for status or fame or out of ambition for some achievement. It's never for the art itself, so they wouldn't want to take so much risk. Only Rong Xuan, that ingrate, was a true kung-fu fanatic."

"He severed his heart meridian," Long Que said with a nod. "When he stopped breathing, a smile still lingered on his face. The rest of us waited without daring to breathe for heaven-knows how long before we understood the truth at last: he had been wrong... It was like waking up from a long dream, and each of us, either standing or sitting, was dumbfounded as we remained gathered around him. Lady Rong wasn't skilled in kung-fu, but she was from the Physicians Valley and had rescued countless people from the clutches of death. She was naturally unwilling to let her husband go just like that. She calmed herself down and retrieved eighteen silver needles which she inserted into Rong Xuan's torso. Six hours went by while she persisted in her manipulations that preserved a hint of warmth in Rong Xuan's chest when, to everyone's surprise, the weakest respiration animated him again. We all thought that he had been resuscitated, but he couldn't be woken up. He was alive, yet insensate."

"After that, Lady Rong bathed her face with tears for three days. In the end, she decided to return to the Physicians Valley to steal the Yin Yang Manual. She didn't know kung-fu, and the trip was a perilous one, so I accompanied her. To think of it, you could say that I'm the very person who brought that book into these lands"

At that moment, Wen Kexing suddenly cast a look at Zhou Zishu. He pursed his lips before he cut off Long Que for the first time.

"That... Yin Yang Manual, you speak of," the guy asked, "Can it save someone even if their heart meridian has been severed?"

Upon hearing that question, Zhou Zishu gave a start. He looked up and just so happened to meet Wen Kexing's gaze. Out of the blue, he felt a strange warmth in the pit of his stomach — Wen Kexing was still worrying on his behalf while the Great Shaman of Nanjiang himself had shaken his head and declared his injuries a hopeless case.

Why would the guy bother?

At a loss, Zhou Zishu reflected that they were to each other no more than strangers who had met by mere happenstance. No more than two wanderers on foreign shores who had ended up as traveling companions. So indeed, why would the guy bother?

Could it be... Could it be that the man was sincere in his intentions?

Not entirely of his own accord, Zhou Zishu looked away, feeling as if Wen Kexing's gaze that lingered on him weighted it. Weight and warmth.

Long Que gave an icy chuckle.

"Do you not know of the Physicians Valley's motto?" he asked in reply to Wen Kexing's question. "It aims to practice medicine to help the public. If a treatise on medicine in its possession was miraculous, don't you think that'd they'd use it instead of stashing it away? No. 'Upturning Yin and Yang' is a mere periphrase for grafting techniques. If you wish to repair someone's heart meridian, then you must take another heart that has been freshly dug out from the chest of a living person to replace it... You tell me, what kind of miracle is that?!"

"Lady Rong did she...?" Zhou Zishu asked.

Long Que remained silent for a long while before he exhaled a sigh.

"Attachment to loved ones is only human. She wasn't a saint; she was only a woman who had betrayed her clan for her husband. As outsiders, it is not our place to pass judgment."

"So, Rong Xuan lived," Ye Baiyi said.

"Yes, he did," Long Que answered. "He not only lived but after he woke up — whether because of some strange coincidence or because the Hermetics is genuinely that wicked — he underwent an exponential increase of his qi. Moreover, after his experience of death, he had gleaned a full understanding of the old tome. Thus, before Lady Rong could even cry on his shoulder for the joy of reuniting again with the one she had lost, he stormed off, declaring that he would write down and complete the upper volume of the Hermetics in seclusion."

"Ingrate," Ye Baiyi commented.

"I have no detailed knowledge of what happened afterward," Long Que carried on. "My wife went into labor then, and I dedicated all my attention to her. The birth was a perilous one, and the doctor barely managed to snatch my wife and child back from the gates of hell. But afterward, it was as if her body had been hollowed out. I stayed by her side night and day for half a year until, at last, even the doctor exhausted his skills. Finally..."

A tear slid down the old man's face as he trailed off. He gave a slow shake of the head.

"My heart had turned to ashes. A friend accompanied me on a trip back to the Armoury where I intended to bid my farewell to everyone... But then, out of some unfathomable coincidence, as we entered the Armoury, we ran into an injured and expiring Lady Rong: her chest was pierced with Rong Xuan's sword, while Rong Xuan himself was at her side with his hands covered in blood. It was unclear whether he had recovered from his homicidal frenzy or had been struck dumb, but he only stood there, looking at her. My friend was so shocked he unsheathed his sword and swung it at him. Thankfully, some remnant of humanity had come back to Rong Xuan; he didn't try to fight and fled instead. By that point, the Crystal Armour was already lost. Before she died, Lady Rong gave the key to the Armoury to my friend, and we both swore on our lives that we would never reveal its whereabouts so that no one could open the Armoury ever again."

As the old man finished speaking, the people in the room fell into a hush. It was a while later that Zhou Zishu broke the silence again.

"So, is that when Rong Xuan became mad and went on a rampage?" he asked. "After which he was hunted down until he had to seek refuge at the Devils' Valley, where he was besieged and killed?"

Long Que let out a sigh.

"I had already returned to the Marionettes Manor by then and no longer paid mind to the affairs of this world. I can only assume that's how things went. More or less."

"A death well-deserved," Ye Baiyi said, closing his eyes.

The bluish veins on the back of the glutton's hands bulged as he clutched the hilt of the "Baiyi" sword. He squeezed so hard, the hilt turned into fine powder between his fingers and the sword's edge cut into his palm. The blade hit the ground with a clang as he let go, though the man in white still acted as if he had noticed nothing. Eructing each word, he only repeated the sentence, "A death... well-deserved."

With that, he turned and left without bidding anyone goodbye. In a flash, he was gone without a trace.

All that time, Zhang Chengling had been listening in while understanding only half of what was being said. He looked up and scrutinized the two remaining men: they seemed resolute in keeping silent. Thus, plucking up his courage, he addressed the old man.

"Grandpa, what's going to happen to you?" he asked.

Long Que mulled it over for a while before he probed around with his hand until he caught the corner of Zhou Zishu's robe.

"Young man, do a good deed, will you?" he said. "Take that sword of yours and grant me a quick and clean end. Long Xiao, that little bastard, wouldn't let me die. Now that he's gone to see King Yan, I too should go, so that I can settle our score!"

Before Zhou Zishu could reply, Wen Kexing had already come over. Bending down, he carefully helped Long Que sit upright. Then, he placed his palm over the old man's chest and spoke in a solemn and respectful tone that was seldom heard from him:

"I can shatter your meridians in a mere second. It will be a quick and clean end. Elder, have you made up your mind?"

Long Que laughed.

"I have! I have! You're only doing a charity. Please, go ah..."

The last syllable of the word "ahead" was still forming on the old man's lips when Wen Kexing issued a burst of force through his lightly affixed fingers. Suspended in laughter, Long Que's entire body jolted once, and the mirth of his last laugh was forever etched on his features.

"Grandpa...!" Zhang Chengling exclaimed, in utter disbelief of what had occurred.

Wen Kexing reached out to close Long Que's eyes before he laid the old man down in the bed. Then, he hugged Zhang Chengling to him.

"We shouldn't humiliate him any further," he said, patting the boy on the head. "He was a hero, and should have a hero's death."

After a pause, he turned to Zhou Zishu and told him, "I'd like to stay here for some time. To give him a proper send-off."

Zhou Zishu got up to his feet, using the bedpost for support.

"All right," he replied as he made for the door.

But before he could step outside, Wen Kexing called out to him again.

"A-Xu, you too should stay with me. So that you can recover from your wound."

Zhou Zishu snorted.

"If I can recover from one wound, can I recover from the other? Since I can't, I'd say that seizing the day to eat and drink, and enjoy life's pleasures would be time rather better spent."

Wen Kexing lowered his eyes and gave a small chuckle. When he spoke again his voice was soft.

"Then, would you consider," he asked, "...staying a few days to keep me company?"

Zhou Zishu stopped in his tracks at that. He remained silent for a moment before he answered, "All right."

1. Unsurprisingly for a culture that venerates the written text and anything ancestral, reactionary criticism toward rot-recitation-based learning is an old trope found in many literary works. There are even whole philosophical movements based on the idea that what is spontaneous is pure (i.e. Daoism), and many protagonists of popular stories are maverick or dilettante types. Ye Baiyi's satire is pretty colorful though.

2. lit. "heavens and man becoming one", is a concept expounded on by Daoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism alike. It variably refers to a state of harmonious existence, of return to nature, or, in context, achieving a higher state of being/immortality/divine-hood.

3. idiom translated literally. A misc. note on books and manuals:

Rare/secret/old tomes that contain mystery to the universe, more or less, is a common wuxia trope.

In The Deer and the Cauldron, the plot revolves around people trying to reunite the eight tomes to the "Sutra of Forty-Two Chapters" which hid a map to the treasure of the Manchu.

In The Smiling Proud Wanderer, the "Sunflower Manual" is the fought over tome at the origin of Invincible East's prodigious skills (and the cause of his self-castration).

And of course, the whole point of Journey to the West is to retrieve the true sutras from India.

By contrast, right now, I can't think of a single western fantasy story in which a book is unobtainable that people try to get their hands on.