The Cripple of The Five Lakes

LOTUS HUANG SLEPT SOUNDLY THAT NIGHT, CONVINCED THAT she had done good by bringing Mercy Mu and Wanyan Kang together. When she told Guo Jing the next morning, he too was pleased that Mercy's feelings were reciprocated. He had taken on the Jin Prince, he recalled, to make him honour his prize: he had defeated Mercy in the Duel for a Maiden and thereby won her hand. This latest development was also a relief for him, because it meant Qiu Chuji and his shifus could not force him to marry Mercy. As for his betrothal to Khojin, he had not given it much thought since he left Mongolia. There was no need to tell Lotus, since he had decided to refuse the honour from Genghis Khan.

There was still no sign of Mercy after lunch. "I don't think she's coming back," Lotus said as she disappeared into her room. She re-emerged dressed in men's clothes, ready for the road.

They went into town to find a horse for the journey and passed by the Dai Mansion. The livery of the Jin Imperial Envoy had disappeared. Mercy must have left with them.

Guo Jing and Lotus travelled south along the Grand Canal, taking in the many sights along the way. Before long, they arrived at Yixing, the world capital of pottery. Mounds of purple stoneware were stacked in every corner of the city.

They continued eastwards and soon arrived at Lake Tai. This enormous body of water was the culmination of many streams that ran through eastern and southern China, and its shores embraced three major cities – Pingjiang, Changzhou and Huzhou. Known in ancient times as the Five Lakes, its shoreline ran to some five hundred li.

Guo Jing stood, hand in hand, with Lotus, marvelling at the rippling expanse. Growing up in landlocked Mongolia, he had never set eyes on such natural beauty. A lush jade green filled his vision. Verdant peaks stood proud against a sea of rolling waves, which stretched as far as the eye could see. Overcome with awe, he howled with delight into the sky.

"Let's explore the lake," Lotus said.

They rode to a nearby fishing village to settle the horses and hire a boat. As they rowed from the shore, they could no longer tell the sky from the water, as if all the layers of heaven and earth were contained within the grand sweep of this lake.

"Official Fan was smart. He chose to roam the Five Lakes with Xi Shi instead of grinding away at court," Lotus mused, her hair and her robe fluttering in the breeze. "Dying of old age out here would be so much better."

"Tell me about this Official Fan. I've never heard of him," Guo Jing said.

Fan Li was a courtier of the Yue state, from around one thousand five hundred years ago, Lotus explained. He helped his king, Goujian, avenge the humiliation suffered at the hands of the Wu king and return the Yue kingdom to prosperity. When Goujian eventually annexed the Wu state, Fan retired from the court with his beloved Xi Shi and lived as a recluse on Lake Tai.

Lotus went on to tell the stories of Fan's contemporaries: Wu Zixu, a general of the Wu state, and Wen Zhong, an official who stayed in King Goujian's court after the conquest of Wu. Unlike Fan, they were both forced by their kings to commit suicide, in spite of their contributions to their kingdoms.

It was some time before Guo Jing could grasp the significance of the story. "Fan Li showed foresight in choosing the smart way out, but Wu Zixu and Wen Zhong were honourable for putting the needs of the state ahead of their own. They served their country loyally to their very last breath."

"'When good prevails in the country, strong are those steadfast to the morals of a less abundant age. When dissolution is rife in a state, strong are those who hold firm to their principles unto death'," Lotus quoted Confucius.

"Can you explain?"

"A real man of honour is one who maintains his integrity, even as he grows wealthy and powerful in an age of peace. A man of honour is also one who gives his life to uphold his ethics in corrupt times."

"You are so wise to have thought of that!"

"Oh, that was Confucius, not me! Papa taught me, when I was little."

"There's so much I don't understand about this world. I wish I knew more about these great thinkers, then perhaps I could comprehend things a little more."

"Papa always says that most of what these philosophers come up with is empty rhetoric! He always mutters – 'Nonsense!' 'Hogwash!' – when he reads. People ridicule him as the Heretic because he sneers at the sages and mocks the Emperor for not standing up to the Jin. But they should praise him as a strong man. Great scholars and Emperors aren't always right, don't you agree?"

"I suppose we should always think and judge for ourselves."

"I really regret spending time studying the sages. I used to harass Papa to teach me everything – painting, divination, anything you can think of. If I had simply focused on martial arts, we wouldn't have to fear Cyclone Mei or Greybeard Liang. But, now you have learned the Eighteen Minus Three Dragon-Subduing Palms, at least that makes the Ginseng Codger less of a threat."

"I'm not so sure." Guo Jing shook his head.

"It's a pity that Count Seven left us so suddenly. I was going to hide his Dog-Beating Cane until he agreed to teach you the last three moves."

"You can't do that! He's your senior! I'm more than happy with the fifteen moves."

They let the waves take them forward. Soon, they were more than a dozen li from the shore. A shallow skiff floated some distance away. On the bow of this leaf-like vessel sat a man fishing with a rod. At the stern, a serving boy stood.

"This is like an ink-wash landscape. A lone fisherman amid the misty expanse."

"What do you mean?" Guo Jing knew nothing about literati culture.

"It's a style of painting using only black ink."

Guo Jing looked around him. The hills were green, the water blue, the setting sun – yellow and orange – was painting the white clouds in shifting shades of pink and red. The one colour missing was black. He shook his head, unable to see what she meant.

Lotus looked over at the fisherman again. "What a patient man!"

He had not moved at all, as still as a figure in a painting.

A light wind stirred. Ripples lapped gently against their boat. Lotus broke into song as she picked up the oar.

"Cast into waves stretching thousands of li,

Verdant hills of the south roll by unseen.

Clouds gather over the star of rain,

The river runs with the goddess,

Eastwards, into the sea.

This northern traveller drifts,

His heart shaken, his vision misplaced,

Headlong into twilight years.

My mountain hermitage,

My friends from home,

A dream, an illusion, gone!"

She was drawn into the lyrics as she sang; her voice was tinged with grief and tears glistened in her eyes. "That was the first half of 'Water Dragon Chant' by Zhu Xizhen. Papa sings it all the time."

Just as Guo Jing was about to ask the meaning of the song, mournful singing swelled from the lake. Even he could tell it was the same tune. The stranger's voice conveyed much anguish.

"Looking behind, evil remains unvanquished.

Where are the heroes of our time?

Strategies to save the state

Lie disregarded and unused,

Only dust and defeat.

The iron gates stood across the river,

Yet the fleet rode down the waves,

And left the monarch mourning.

I can but beat tempo with my oar,

As I chant with grief

In a torrent of tears."

"I can't believe the fisherman knows the song too." Lotus rowed towards the skiff. "It's about an old man sailing down a river and grieving for his country, which has lost half of its land."

By now, the fisherman had put away his fishing rod and was making his way towards Guo Jing and Lotus. When he was a short distance away, he called out over the water, "What a happy encounter! May I invite you for a cup of wine?"

"We should not impose ourselves on you, sir." Lotus had not expected the fisherman to be so well spoken.

"It would be my pleasure to make your acquaintance." He dipped his oar and brought the two boats together.

Guo Jing and Lotus tied their rowing boat onto the skiff's stern and hopped across. Once aboard, they put their hands together respectfully in greeting.

The fisherman returned the salute. "Please forgive me for not standing up to welcome you. My legs are not as strong as they once were." He invited his guests to sit down.

The fisherman appeared no more than forty, but his sallow complexion and hollowed-out cheeks gave him the look of someone long haunted by illness. Despite the problem with his legs, he was curiously well built – half a head taller than Guo Jing sitting down.

"His name is Guo, and mine is Huang. Our impromptu singing must have disturbed sir's enjoyment," Lotus said.

"Your aria washed away my worldly worries. Is it your first time on Lake Tai? My name is Lu."

"Yes, sir," Guo Jing answered.

At the fisherman's signal, the serving boy left his place at the stern, where he had been fanning the stove to heat wine, to set up the banquet.

The host personally poured the wine, demonstrating that he held his guests in great esteem. The four dishes served were not as delicate as Lotus's creations, but the elegance of the presentation and crockery indicated to the young couple that they were in the company of a wealthy and important man.

"My young friend, you sang the 'Water Dragon Chant' with such melancholy and gusto," the fisherman said after the second toast. "It is exceptional to have grasped the sentiment contained in the lyrics at your tender age."

"Every literati has lamented the fate of our country since the Song court retreated south. Zhang Yuhu expressed similar emotions in 'Prelude to Six Provinces'." Lotus started to sing:

"I heard our countrymen left in the north,

Oft looked towards the south

For the Emperor's procession.

To see them fills travellers with anger and pity,

To see them fills eyes with tears."

Smacking the table in agreement, the fisherman sang the last two lines again and poured yet more wine for his guests, and they toasted three more times.

The fisherman talked about poetry with passion and Lotus responded with the same animation, adapting her father's commentaries. But, deep down, she knew she was too young to grasp the concern for king and country expressed by the verses.

Greatly moved by Lotus's insight and her elegant phrasing, the fisherman struck the table again and again in impassioned approval. Guo Jing understood little of their discussion, but was pleased to see the fisherman's reaction.

Soon, twilight fell, shrouding the lake in mist.

"My humble abode is on the lakeshore; might I be so bold as to invite you to break your journey for a few days?" Before they answered, the fisherman added, "I am fortunate that my home is surrounded by abundant natural beauty, and since my young friends are here on Lake Tai to enjoy the scenery, please do not imagine that you would be imposing."

"Well, we shall trouble you then, Master Lu," Guo Jing answered, moved by Lu's earnest invitation.

Happy that his new friends had agreed to stay, the fisherman ordered the serving boy to steer them ashore so Guo Jing and Lotus could return their boat.

"We will be back once we have made arrangements for our horses," Guo Jing said, when he and Lotus were on land.

"I am familiar with the inhabitants of this area; please allow him to attend to your needs," the fisherman said, pointing at the serving boy, who now stood next to them on the shore.

"My ride is of rough temperament; it is best if I settle him personally."

"In that case, I shall await your arrival." With these words, the fisherman and his skiff disappeared among a thicket of weeping willows.

2

AFTER THEY HAD RETURNED THE ROWING BOAT AND retrieved the horses, the serving boy led Guo Jing and Lotus Huang to a household one li along the shore, to board a larger vessel. Six stout rowers ferried them across the lake for several li to a stone pier on an islet populated by a series of buildings and pavilions interlinked by covered corridors.

The young couple exchanged a look of surprise. What a grand manor for a fisherman!

Across an imposing stone bridge leading to the gate of the manor, a youth of eighteen stood before a formal line of half a dozen servants.

He stepped forward. "Father sent me to welcome you to Roaming Cloud Manor."

Wrapping an open palm over a fist in a gesture of thanks, Guo Jing and Lotus marvelled at the resemblance. Here was a strapping, youthful version of the fisherman. He wore a robe of fine silk over his broad shoulders and muscular torso.

"Please call me by my first name, Laurel," the young man said deferentially as he led the way.

This manor was worlds away from the simple grandeur Guo Jing had found in the architecture of the north. Here, every beam and pillar was carved and painted according to an elaborate decorative scheme. But it was the layout and arrangement of the paths and walkways that caught Lotus's attention as they were guided through the estate. After meandering through three courtyards, they at last reached their destination.

"Please come in!" they heard the fisherman call.

"Due to his indisposition, my father will receive you in the east study." Laurel Lu led them around the screen wall to an open doorway.

Seated on a couch, with a white goose-feather fan in his hand, the fisherman was now dressed in a scholar's robe. He cupped his hands together in greeting and invited his guests to sit. Laurel Lu stood to attention in a corner of the study.

Lotus looked around the room. It was full of artefacts and ancient books, with antique bronzes and jades displayed on every surface. Her eyes fell on an ink-wash scroll of a middle-aged scholar, which was hanging on the wall. The forlorn figure stood with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, seemingly sighing into an empty courtyard, under a moonlit sky. A lyric poem was inscribed on the top left of the picture plane:

The autumn cricket chirped incessantly yesternight.

Startled from the land of dreams a thousand li away,

Midnight had already passed.

Out of the bed, alone in the courtyard pacing,

Solitary was I.

Beyond the blinds, the moon was shrouded in haze.

Striving for honour and rank has turned my hair grey.

The ancient pines and bamboos of the old mountain

Stand in the way of return.

I wish to confide by the music of my zither,

But who will listen?

Who will hear when my string snaps?

Lotus remembered her father teaching her this verse, then she read the signature: Scribbled by the Cripple of the Five Lakes, in an infirm state. Their host must have painted this, though she had doubts how ill he could have been at the time. The powerful brushwork slashed like a sword and quivered with pent-up force, as if each stroke could pierce through the paper and take flight.

Noticing Lotus's interest in the painting, Squire Lu said, "Brother, please honour us with your thoughts."

"I hope I am not being impertinent," Lotus replied. "The painting portrays some of the frustration expressed in Yue Fei's 'Layered Hills'. However, General Yue wanted military action against the Jurchen after they annexed the northern part of our realm. He believed he owed it to the people to repel the invaders, but the Imperial Court was more interested in negotiating peace treaties – no-one heard Yue Fei's plea. Though he wholeheartedly opposed talks with the Jin, he did not wish to openly defy the court.

"It's as though indignation, a sense of being wronged, fuelled sir's creation of the work. The brushstrokes are imbued with might, but they are also sharp and spiky, as if the brush was fighting its nemesis to the death. In that sense, perhaps it does not quite match the helplessness and concern Yue Fei felt for the country and the people.

"I once heard that, if one is to attain mastery in the art of the brush, one should never simply pursue force at the expense of the more subtle nuances of control."

Squire Lu sighed and said nothing.

"Forgive my unchecked tongue, Squire Lu." Lotus had parroted her father's interpretation of the poem and his views on artistry. She had not thought it would upset her host so.

Her words jolted Squire Lu out of his gloom and now he seemed pleased. "Brother Huang, please, there is no need to apologise. You are the first person to perceive the state I was in when I created this painting. You can't imagine what joy this understanding brings me. The sharpness of my brushwork is something I've never managed to rectify and I am grateful of this reminder." Squire Lu then turned to his son. "Send word for the banquet to be prepared." The young man left the study quietly, with a bow.

"Brother, you are a true connoisseur," he continued. "I am sure you come from a cultured family. Might I ask your father's name?"

"I don't deserve such praise, sir. My father runs an academy in the country. His name is not known at all."

"The world sighs for talent so neglected."

AFTER A sumptuous feast, they returned to the study. "The caves of Celestial Master Zhang and Hermit Shan Juan the Virtuous are some of the most exceptional sights under the heavens and they are only a short distance away," Squire Lu said. "Please stay for a few days and explore at your leisure. Would you like to retire for the evening?"

Guo Jing and Lotus stood up to take their leave. On the way out, Lotus noticed eight pieces of iron nailed into the lintel over the study door. The metal strips had the outline of the Eight Trigrams, yet they were arranged in slanted, asymmetric disarray. Keeping the discovery to herself, she followed Guo Jing and the servant out of the east study.

The guest room was elegantly furnished with two beds covered in tasteful linen. The servant brought tea. "Should my lords require anything, please pull the bell by the bed. We shall be at your service instantly. Might I bid my lords to stay in the room during the night?" Softly, he shut the doors.

"There's something queer about this place. Why did he say we should stay inside?" Lotus spoke quietly.

"Maybe they don't want us to get lost? The manor is huge and the paths are confusing."

"It is built in an odd way," she said, pondering the estate's layout. "What do you think our host does?"

"A retired official?"

She shook her head. "He's trained in the martial arts. A master, probably. Did you notice the iron Eight Trigrams over the study door?"

"Huh?"

"They are set up for the practice of Splitting Sky Palm. Papa tried to teach me, but it was boring; I gave up after a month. I never imagined I'd see it here."

"Squire Lu has no ill intent towards us. Just pretend you didn't see it."

Nodding with a smile, Lotus swung her palm in the direction of the candlestick and the light went out with a hiss.

"Impressive! Was that Splitting Sky Palm?"

"That's all I know. Good for showing off, no use in a fight."

3

THE LOW BLAST OF A FARAWAY CONCH JOLTED GUO JING AND Lotus awake, some time after midnight. A moment later, a similar groan sounded from another direction. A call and response, messages passed over distance.

"Let's take a look," Lotus whispered.

"We were told—"

"Come on, just a peek."

They nudged a window open and peered into the courtyard. Men rushed to and fro, lanterns in hand. A few dark shapes squatted on the roof. Metal glinted in the movement of the lights. Soon, the men in the courtyard marched off in formation. Lotus took Guo Jing's hand and went to the window on the other side of the room. Not a soul in sight. She leapt out and beckoned Guo Jing to do the same. Instead of following the group, Lotus headed in the opposite direction. The armed men on the roof did not register that the guests had left their room.

There was not a single path that followed a straight line. They meandered left and snaked right. At every corner of the grounds, the banisters, buildings and vegetation were identical. Guo Jing was hopelessly lost, yet Lotus hurried along without hesitation, as if she was at home. Time and again, Guo Jing was certain that they were at a dead end, but Lotus would burrow into a hidden passage through an artificial mountain, or hop around some shrubbery, and suddenly the walkway reappeared. Every time Guo Jing thought they must have reached the outer perimeter of the estate, Lotus found the entrance to another courtyard or garden lurking behind a screen or a tree. Often, she ignored the open entry of a moon gate and pushed at the wall to reveal a hidden door.

"How do you know your way around?"

Lotus put a finger to her lips to silence him. She navigated another half a dozen turns before stopping at the wall of the rear garden. She looked around, counting with her fingers as she paced.

"Thunder in the First, Reluctance in the Third, Nourishment in the Fifth, Returning in the Seventh, Earth . . ." Lotus's mumbled calculations made no sense to Guo Jing.

Eventually, she stopped. "This is it. We can get out from here. The rest of the wall is fitted with traps."

When they were safely on the outside, Lotus explained. "The manor was built according to the directions of the sixty-four hexagrams of Fuxi the Sovereign, which stems from the knowledge of the Mysterious Gates and Eight Trigrams. Papa is a master of the subject. This place may confuse most people, but not me."

Lotus marched to the summit of the small hill behind the manor for a better vantage point. To the east, a procession of lanterns and torches was making its way towards Lake Tai. She tugged on Guo Jing's sleeve and they sprinted to the shore together using their lightness kung fu. When they were near the water, they hid behind a large rock.

Streams of men boarded a fleet of fishing boats anchored along the bank. The moment each man stepped aboard, he snuffed out his light. Now that the last of them had embarked, the lake was plunged into darkness once more, giving the young couple the cover they had been waiting for. They hopped silently onto the stern of the largest barge as it set sail and climbed onto the cabin's canopy. Peering through the gaps of the woven bamboo awning, they were surprised to find their host's son, Laurel Lu, seated below.

The fleet cruised for several li across Lake Tai. Then the seashell horn was heard once more. A man emerged from the cabin to sound a reply from the bow. The barge covered another few li, reaching a stretch of the lake that was dotted with skiffs as far as the eye could see, as if countless ink droplets were splattered across a large piece of green paper.

Three blasts of the conch and the barge dropped its anchor. A dozen small boats hastened towards it from all directions. Could this be an attack? The idea occurred to the young couple, but Laurel Lu's demeanour showed no concern.

The launches closed in and men began to board Laurel Lu's barge in twos and threes. They bowed deferentially at the young man, then headed to their seats. There was a clear hierarchy: some early arrivals sat down at the back, while others had a place close to the front. In the time it takes to drink a pot of tea, everyone had settled. The men were all dressed as fishermen, but each of them was of a martial bearing, tough and strong. They could not possibly make a living simply from fishing.

Laurel Lu raised his hand, then spoke. "Brother Zhang, what news?"

A compact, wiry man stood up. "The Jin envoy will cross tonight. Commander Duan will be here in about two hours. His arrival is delayed because he has been extorting and plundering along the way on the pretext that he was leading the welcome party to receive the Jurchen forces."

"How much did he take?"

"Every town and province offered their respects. His soldiers pillaged every village they passed. I saw his men carrying more than twenty chests, and they appeared very heavy."

"What about the troops?"

"Two thousand cavalry, and as many infantry again. But there aren't enough boats. Only one thousand infantrymen will make the crossing."

"What do you say, my brothers?"

"We will follow our leader's order!" everyone cried in unison.

"They took our people's livelihood. They seized what belongs to Lake Tai." Laurel Lu folded his hands on his chest. "It is not against the Way of the Heavens to reclaim what is ours. And we will reclaim it all!"

The men exploded in cheers.

"We will distribute half of our booty to the poor living around the lake," he continued. "The rest will be split among the crews."

Now Guo Jing and Lotus understood. These men were pirates, and Laurel Lu was their leader.

"What are we waiting for?" Laurel Lu roared, before turning back to Brother Zhang. "Take five skiffs as scouts." The man disembarked with a curt nod.

He then gave orders to his band of outlaws, assigning the vanguard, the reserve, the water ghosts who would scuttle the Jin envoy's fleet, squads to seize valuables and to guard the prisoners . . . This softly spoken, scholarly young man was turning out to be a confident commander of ruffians.

"Surely we've already made enough from wealthy merchants?" a pirate said, just as everyone was leaving to take their posts. "Is there really a need to wage war on government officials? What will become of us? The Great Jin Imperial Envoy isn't the sort of enemy we want."

Guo Jing and Lotus recognised the speaker immediately – Ma Qingxiong the Valiant, an apprentice of Dragon King Hector Sha and one of the Four Daemons of the Yellow River. How had he got involved with this band of robbers?

"Brother Ma, you are new to our crew – and perhaps unfamiliar with our rules." Laurel Lu's face darkened and his voice boomed above the jeers of the pirates. "Every one of us here is committed to our mission, wholly and with one heart. Our force might be wiped out tonight, but we will give our lives without regret."

"Do what you will! I want nothing to do with this cesspool!" The Soul Snatcher Whip, Ma Qingxiong, spun away, looking for a way out of the cabin.

Two men blocked his exit. "You beheaded a chicken and pledged to share our every fortune and misfortune!" one of them cried.

"Out of my way!" Ma Qingxiong's fists shot forward and both men fell to the side. He darted towards the open deck as a rush of air closed in from behind, then he swivelled to dodge, pulling a dagger from his boot and, as he did so, jabbing the blade in a backhand thrust at his pursuer.

Laurel Lu pushed the knife aside and launched his other palm. Ma Qingxiong twisted and shoved. He raised the knife again.

At first, Guo Jing was concerned for Laurel Lu. Yet, within a handful of moves, his host's son was firmly on the offensive and Ma Qingxiong could only shift and swerve in the narrow cabin.

Why was the Soul Snatcher Whip's kung fu so weak now? Guo Jing was surprised, but then quickly realised: I was attacked by the Four Daemons all at once, in Mongolia. This time, he's alone in enemy territory.

Little did Guo Jing know that it was the tremendous improvement in his own martial skills that made Ma seem less threatening. In the past two months alone, he had learned one of the most powerful forms of kung fu known to the wulin, Dragon-Subduing Palm. Each tip and suggestion he had received from Count Seven Hong as they sparred was a nugget of supreme martial wisdom from one of the greatest masters of the age. Hong's knowledge was on a level far beyond the collective expertise of his shifus, the Seven Freaks of the South. Though Guo Jing barely understood a tenth of what Count Seven had said, he held each word firmly in his mind. That alone was enough to propel his martial prowess onto an equal footing with his teachers. Ma Qingxiong now seemed trivial by comparison.

Laurel Lu lunged and threw a left punch – pang! – square in Ma Qingxiong's chest.

Ma stumbled and tipped backwards. Two men hacked down with their sabres, killing the Soul Snatcher Whip instantly. Then they tossed his bloodied, lifeless body into the lake.

"Brothers, let courage be our watchword!" Laurel Lu cried. The pirates returned to their vessels with a rousing roar of agreement.

Thousands of oars propelled this fleet eastwards. Laurel Lu's boat held up the rear as they glided across the dark lake.

The pirates soon spotted a squadron of several dozen brilliantly lit ships sailing west.

That must be the government convoy! With that thought, Guo Jing and Lotus scaled the mast for a better view. They sat on the yard, shielded from view by the sail.

The pirate fleet was fast approaching the government ships. A conch blasted from one of the scouting skiffs. Moments later, shouts, clangs and splashes swelled from the lake, drifting faintly towards Guo Jing and Lotus.

Now, a burst of fire engulfed the Jin flotilla, lapping at the night sky and painting the dark water crimson.

A group of launches skimmed across the water and approached Laurel Lu's barge. "We have captured the commander of the warden's office. His entire fleet is lost, and the Jin infantry with it!"

Visibly elated, the pirate commander stood on the bow and bellowed, "Keep up the great work! Let's take the Jin ambassador!"

"Aye!" The messengers sped away to deliver the order.

That's Wanyan Kang! What will he do? Guo Jing and Lotus reached for one another's hand at the thought of Mercy Mu's sweetheart.

Beckoned by a chorus of seashell horns, the marauders raised their sails and sped westwards on the midsummer easterly wind. Laurel Lu's barge, equipped with the largest sail, pulled ahead, in hot pursuit of the Jin envoy. Guo Jing and Lotus, too, were caught up in the excitement of the chase. Roused by the rushing wind at their backs, the glittering sky and the misty expanse ahead, they felt an overwhelming urge to sing at the top of their voices.

The sky began to grow light in the east. By now, the pirates had been stalking the Jin fleet for two hours. Two launches glided close to the barge. A pirate on the first waved a green flag, signalling to the larger ship. "The Jin fleet is in sight! Captain Ke is leading the assault," he cried.

"Excellent!" Laurel Lu responded from the barge.

Before long, another small boat slipped close. "The Jin dog has sharp claws! Captain Ke is injured. Captain Peng and Captain Dong are fighting him together."

Shortly after, two pirates carried the unconscious Captain Ke onto the barge. Laurel Lu hurried over to check his wounds. Just then, another two launches arrived with Captain Peng and Captain Dong. Both were injured, and they brought the news of the death of Quartermaster Guo of West Dongting. He had taken a spear from the Jin ambassador and fallen into the water.

"I'll kill that rabid Jin dog myself!" Laurel Lu roared.

Guo Jing and Lotus were angry at the brutal way Wanyan Kang dealt with his own countrymen. Yet they were also concerned for his safety, since Mercy's heart was tied to him.

"Should we help him?" Lotus asked quietly.

Guo Jing paused before answering. "We'll save him, but he must change his ways."

Lotus nodded, pointing at Laurel Lu as he boarded a launch. "Let's follow him."

They were ready to leap down onto another skiff when a great roar rose from the lake, spreading from pirate to pirate. The Jin envoy's fleet was slowly sinking, ship by ship. The pirates, the scourge of the water, had succeeded in their efforts to scuttle the enemy craft.

The green flag was raised again. A boatswain called from one of the two approaching launches. "The Jin dog is in the water!"

"We've got him!" another reported.

At that news, Laurel Lu climbed back aboard his own vessel.

Soon, conch shells were sounding from every direction. The Jin ambassador and his personal guard and staff were brought onto Laurel Lu's barge by a series of skiffs.

His hands and feet bound, Wanyan Kang's eyes were tightly shut, but his chest was heaving. It seemed the young man had swallowed a lungful of water.

By now, the rising sun had chased away the last traces of the night. Rays of light danced on the waves as if thousands of golden snakes were gliding across the surface of the lake.

"All captains, return to Roaming Cloud Manor! Quartermasters, lead your crews back to camp. Await instruction for the division of the bounty," Laurel Lu announced, to thunderous cheers.

The pirate fleet dispersed in four directions, accompanied by wisps of mist clinging forlornly to the morning breeze.

Lake Tai returned to its usual peaceful self. Flocks of gulls soared and swooped as the green hills watched on from a distance.

Guo Jing and Lotus Huang waited until the last pirate had disembarked before jumping ashore. They re-entered the manor the same way they had left, through the rear garden perimeter wall.

The servants had checked their room several times that morning, assuming they were sleeping in after a long day's journey. The very moment Guo Jing opened the door, two serving men rushed forward with a breakfast tray of noodles and soup dumplings.

"Squire Lu would be honoured if you would grace him with your presence after breakfast."

Guo Jing and Lotus ate quickly and followed the servants to the study.

"The wind was high last night. I hope it didn't disturb your sleep," Squire Lu said, with an apologetic smile.

"We slept very well, thank you," Lotus answered immediately, knowing Guo Jing would not be able to come up with a lie quick enough and might reveal their whereabouts last night. "Was there a ritual to appease hungry ghosts? We thought we heard a conch sounding in the middle of the night."

Squire Lu smiled and changed the subject. "I would love your opinion on my small collection of calligraphy and paintings." He ordered the servants to bring the art works. Lotus admired the scrolls one by one; Guo Jing looked on, unsure of what to think.

Suddenly, the peace in the study was broken by shouts and cries and pounding feet. It sounded like someone was running from a group of pursuers.

"You'll never find your way out of Roaming Cloud Manor!"

Pang! The study's doors flew open. A man barged in, dripping wet. Guo Jing and Lotus recognised him immediately – Wanyan Kang!

"Look at the painting, not at him," she whispered, tugging Guo Jing's sleeve. They lowered their heads and pretended to study the scrolls.

Wanyan Kang had fallen into the water when his boat sank. He was unable to swim, and his martial knowledge counted for nothing once in the lake. He had gulped a bellyful of water and passed out. Coming to, he found his hands and feet bound. He had been delivered to Laurel Lu at knifepoint for questioning. The moment the blade was removed from his neck, he had summoned his inner strength and ripped his binds using Heartbreaker Palm. With an effortless swing of his arms, he had dispatched the two guards who tried to restrain him. He sprinted onto the first path that crossed his way.

Laurel Lu had not been too concerned about his prisoner escaping when he broke his restraints. As Lotus had surmised, Roaming Cloud Manor was built according to the rules of the Mysterious Gates and the Eight Trigrams. Without a guide familiar with the layout or knowledgeable in the underlying concepts behind its construction, Wanyan Kang would never find his way out. However, as they neared his father's study, Laurel Lu rushed into the room after Wanyan Kang, ran forward and placed himself protectively in front of his father. The pirate captains spread out in a line across the doorway, blocking the study's only exit.

Realising he was trapped, Wanyan Kang jabbed his finger at Laurel Lu. "You sank my fleet with your dirty tricks. You'll be laughed out of the jianghu."

"What does a Jin Prince know about the jianghu?" Laurel Lu sneered.

"I heard that the heroes of the south were honourable men. Well . . . having seen you in action first hand, I can see that this reputation is ill deserved!" The pirates snarled, but Wanyan Kang continued unfazed. "A swarm of cowards and rogues who got lucky through sheer weight of numbers, that's what you are!"

"Will you submit to your fate if we defeat you in one-to-one combat?"

Wanyan Kang smiled to himself. He's fallen for my taunt! "I shall yield to your ropes without another word. Who would like to display their martial knowledge first?" He folded his arms behind his back and cast his eyes around the room, regarding each of the pirates with disdain.

"This old man will rip the feathers off this foreign peacock!"

Captain Shi, known as the Golden Turtle, charged at Wanyan Kang. His fists flew at the Prince's Great Sun vital points, at each of his temples, in a move known as Bell and Drum.

Standing tall, with his hands still behind his back, Wanyan Kang turned a fraction and evaded the punches with ease. With a twist of his right hand, he grabbed Captain Shi from behind and propelled the pirate's fleshy bulk back towards the doorway.

"It would be my pleasure to sample your excellent kung fu in the courtyard." Laurel Lu gestured outside. He knew none of his men could beat Wanyan Kang – he was too fast and too brutal – and he could not let this fight unfold near his father and the guests. They were not trained in the martial arts and might get hurt.

"Why not here?" Wanyan Kang was confident that he could tackle his captor within moments. "Please honour me with your first move."

"You are our guest; the first is yours."

Wanyan Kang thrust his left palm in a feint. It masked the deadly Nine Yin Skeleton Claw that tore at Laurel Lu's chest.

The young master of Roaming Cloud Manor held his ground. Hunching his shoulders so that his torso was just beyond reach, Laurel Lu threw a right punch at the Prince's elbow. At the same time, he jabbed two forked fingers at his opponent's eyes.

The speed of the attack took Wanyan Kang by surprise, forcing him to step sideways. He flipped a clawed hand into a Grapple and Lock and seized his captor by the arm. Laurel Lu twisted away, then drew his arms in a circle with his thumbs outstretched, in an Embrace the Moon. Recognising the move's potency, Wanyan Kang launched into the Quanzhen Sect's defensive fist technique.

A student of Abbot Withered Wood of Cloudy Perch Temple in Lin'an, Laurel Lu was well versed in the boxing techniques of the Immortal Cloud Sect. A branch of the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song in Henan, their kung fu, together with that of the Quanzhen Sect, was considered a fundamental part of the orthodox martial lineage.

But this was the first time Laurel Lu had fought such a powerful opponent. Treading with care, he kept his arms close to his body to fend off Wanyan Kang's savage talons. His feet were ready to kick out the moment he saw a gap in the Jin Prince's defence.

Fists and feet flew faster and faster. The two young men were now nothing but blurred outlines flitting around the room.

For fear that Wanyan Kang might recognise them, Lotus and Guo Jing had retreated behind the bookshelves to watch the fight.

Wanyan Kang had expected to beat Laurel Lu quickly, and he would have done so had he not been so shaken by his ordeal during the night.

If I let this fight go on much longer, I won't have any strength left to take on another challenger. With that thought, he redoubled his efforts, employing some of his most brutal moves.

Thwack! Laurel Lu took a punch to the shoulder. He staggered back several steps.

Revelling in the hit, the Jin Prince lunged. A crushing pain rocked his chest. How had his opponent hit back while in retreat?

Laurel Lu's kung fu was grounded in muscular strength and agility. It stressed the collaboration between hands and feet, a repertoire of kicks forming his most potent offensive technique. "One-third punches, two-thirds kicks" and "Hands are doors, kick to win" were well-known mantras of this style.

Laurel Lu stumbled, and yet struck his left leg at Wanyan Kang, quick as lightning, in a kick called Arrow to the Heart. He had toiled over this move since childhood, pulling, stretching and hoisting his ankle high using a rope thrown over a roof beam. The speed, the force and the extreme overhead angle made the kick all but impossible to dodge.

Wanyan Kang felt the wind knocked out of him, but still he managed to twist his left hand and impale Laurel Lu's calf with all five fingers before the young man could pull back.

"Down!" He smacked his other palm into Laurel Lu's hip.

Laurel Lu lost his footing. After all, he was only supported by one leg. The young man flew across the room, straight into his father.

Confounding all expectations, Squire Lu placed his hand on his son's back and set him down with ease. A scarlet line on the floor marked the young man's trajectory.

"Who are you to Twice Foul Dark Wind?" Squire Lu hissed.

Needless to say, the room was stunned by Squire Lu's reaction, except for Lotus and Guo Jing. Even Laurel Lu had assumed his father's disability and his interest in music and literature precluded any real knowledge of the martial arts. But the hand that guided him down was certain and steady. The touch of a master.

"I've never heard of this Twice Foul Dark Wind!" Wanyan Kang said with disdain. He had learned kung fu from Cyclone Mei for years, but he did not even know her name, let alone her past.

"Then who taught you the Nine Yin Skeleton Claw?"

"I haven't got time for this!" Wanyan Kang turned to leave. The pirates immediately raised their weapons.

"Are you not honourable men of your word?" the Jin Prince drawled.

"The heroes of Lake Tai never go back on their word." A pallid Laurel Lu signalled his men to stand down, and, grudgingly, they obeyed. "Captain Zhang will see you out."

"Follow me." The pirate glowered at Wanyan Kang.

"And my entourage?"

"They too will be freed," Laurel Lu conceded.

"The word of a gentleman is as true as a horseman's whip!" Wanyan Kang raised his thumb in approval. "Captains, fare you well." Smug in his triumph, the Jin Prince put his hands together and gave each pirate a mocking salute.

"Do indulge this old man and show me once more the Nine Yin Skeleton Claw." Squire Lu spoke softly.

"Happy to oblige."

"Pa . . ."

"He hasn't mastered it yet; there is no need to worry." Squire Lu turned to Wanyan Kang. "I can't walk, so you have to come to me."

Sneering, Wanyan Kang stayed put.

"I'd like to sample your kung fu on behalf of my papa." Despite his injury and almost certain defeat, Laurel Lu could not let his father put himself at risk.

"It would be my pleasure," the Jin Prince said.

"Out of my way, son!"

Squire Lu gently tapped his seat and instantly propelled himself across the study, his left palm held high, ready to strike down at the Jin Prince's head.

Wanyan Kang lifted his arm to block, but, instead of pain, he felt a tightness around his wrist. Then, outlines of hands and palms weaved back and forth before his eyes. A right hand struck at his shoulder. The Jin Prince had never seen such fast and unusual grappling kung fu. Defending himself with one hand, he struggled to free himself from Squire Lu's clutches.

Meanwhile, Squire Lu's feet had not touched the ground. The weight of his whole person pivoted on Wanyan Kang's wrist. His palm cracked over Wanyan Kang like lightning, five or six savage blows in the space of a single breath.

Wanyan Kang writhed and turned, his legs kicked and flew, but he could neither free himself nor hit back at Squire Lu.

Gasps of surprise overtook the room, as all stood transfixed by Squire Lu's extraordinary skill.

The master of Roaming Cloud Manor brought his palm in attack once more at Wanyan Kang. This time, the Jin Prince scratched his talon-like fingers at the offending hand.

Squire Lu dipped his elbow and knocked the bony joint into the young man's Shoulder Well pressure point, just above the collarbone. Instantly, numbness spread over half of Wanyan Kang's body. His other wrist fell to Squire Lu's grip.

Crack! His joints popped simultaneously.

By the time Wanyan Kang registered the gentle push to his waist and his shoulder through the pain in his wrists, Squire Lu had settled back on his couch. The young man's legs gave out.

The pirates gaped in stunned silence. Then cheers lifted the roof.

"Pa, you're not hurt, are you?" Laurel Lu hobbled over.

Squire Lu reassured his son with a smile, then a look of concern darkened his face. "You must question him thoroughly about the lineage of his kung fu."

Seeing his fellows approach Wanyan Kang with ropes to bind him, Captain Zhang said, "We took some steel manacles last night. They'd be perfect."

A pirate dashed off to fetch the fetters. When he returned, the metal shackles were clamped around Wanyan Kang's wrists and ankles.

"Bring him here," Squire Lu requested.

Two pirates dragged Wanyan Kang over by his arms. Intense pain ripped through his broken wrists. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans formed on his forehead. He fought hard to swallow his groans of pain.

Pop, pop! Squire Lu snapped the dislocated joints back into place with expert precision. He then tapped the pressure points at the bottom of Wanyan Kang's spine and on the left side of his torso.

The Jin Prince could feel the pain fading away as anger and shock took its place. Before he could get another word out, he was escorted back to the prison at Laurel Lu's order.

Once the study was empty, Guo Jing and Lotus Huang emerged from behind the bookshelves. They were confident that Wanyan Kang had not noticed them.

"Please forgive my ungentlemanly conduct," Squire Lu said.

"Who was that man?" Lotus feigned ignorance, quietly noting the similarity between Lu's kung fu and hers. "Did he steal something from you?"

"He has taken rather a lot from us." Squire Lu laughed. "Come, we mustn't let this little rascal spoil your stay."

Squire Lu and Lotus returned to the paintings, discussing each work's composition and admiring the brushwork. Guo Jing listened to this talk of trees and rocks, insects and flowers, but he could comprehend little.

After lunch, Squire Lu sent two servants to show them the caves of Celestial Master Zhang and Hermit Shan Juan the Virtuous. They explored the subterranean wonder until dusk.

That night, as they were getting ready for bed, Guo Jing asked Lotus, "What should we do? Should we help him?"

"Let's wait a few days. I can't quite figure out Squire Lu yet."

"His kung fu is very similar to yours."

"I know!" Then she lowered her voice. "Could he have known Cyclone Mei?"

The line of conversation ended there, for fear that someone might be eavesdropping.

4

NOT LONG AFTER MIDNIGHT, LOTUS HUANG AND GUO JING woke up to the quiet rattle of roof tiles overhead. Then they heard a light scraping on the ground outside. They tiptoed to the window and saw a dark shape duck behind a rosebush. The figure looked around, then ran eastwards. Only an intruder would move with such stealth.

Having witnessed Squire Lu's martial skills, Lotus decided Roaming Cloud Manor must be more than just the base for Lake Tai's pirates. Perhaps this trespasser would lead them to their host's secrets. She jumped out of the window and beckoned Guo Jing to follow.

After trailing the intruder for several dozen paces, Lotus realised she was following a woman and that her kung fu was no better than mediocre. Quickening her steps to take a better look, Lotus caught the interloper's starlit profile as she glanced around, trying to work out her route.

Mercy Mu!

She must be here to rescue her sweetheart! Lotus smiled to herself.

Mercy darted hither and thither around the garden and was soon completely lost. But Lotus knew where they could find Wanyan Kang. The holding cell must be located at the Gnawing Bite, she figured, based on what she had learned from her father. The I'Ching stated that this hexagram – with the trigram for Flame placed above the trigram for Thunder – was a suitable location to exercise the law, mete out punishments and build gaols.

Roaming Cloud Manor might be a maze to those unfamiliar with the principles of its construction, but, to Lotus, its layout was straightforward.

Lotus watched with amusement as Mercy hesitated at a fork in the road. The way you bumble around, you won't find him in a hundred years!

She grabbed some earth and flicked a speck to the left.

"That way," Lotus croaked, deepening her voice.

Mercy spun, with her sabre raised. But her reactions were not quick enough. The young couple had long sprinted out of sight using lightness qinggong.

Do they mean well? Mercy wondered. She was hopelessly lost. She might as well place her faith in her unseen guide and head down the path as indicated. A flying grain of earth pointed the way whenever the path split. She meandered through courtyards and gardens for some time. Suddenly, something swished past and there was the quiet sound of earth hitting the window frame of a nearby hut. Two blurry shadows flitted past her, heading towards the unassuming structure, then disappeared.

Mercy rushed towards it. As she neared the bungalow, she could make out two stout men lying on the ground by the entrance, clutching their blades. She could feel their eyes following her every move, but they were paralysed by means of their pressure points.

Relieved that a master was watching over her, she nudged the door open, stepped inside and listened.

Yes. She could hear breathing.

"Kang, is that you?" she whispered.

"Yes!" Wanyan Kang replied at once. He had been woken by the thump of the guards hitting the ground.

"Thank the heavens and earth!" Mercy moved closer, guided by his voice. "Let's go."

"Have you got a blade on you?"

"What do you mean?"

Wanyan Kang shifted on the straw mat and his shackles clanked.

Mercy tugged at the fetters. "I shouldn't have given Lotus the dagger. It would cut through this as if it were soft clay."

Of course, she had no idea that Lotus and Guo Jing were listening outside. And no notion of the thought that was going through Lotus's mind: I'd be happy to give you the dagger, but only when you're desperate.

"I'll find the keys."

"No, don't. You can't beat them. You'll put yourself in danger and it won't make any difference."

"Then I'll carry you out of here."

"They've chained me to a pillar."

"What should we do?" She sounded tearful.

"Kiss me."

"This is not the time for jests!" Mercy stamped her foot in exasperation.

"I've never been more serious."

Mercy ignored him. Freeing him was the only thing on her mind.

"How did you know I was here?"

"You know I've been following your entourage."

"Come into my arms. Let me speak to you."

She obeyed without protest, falling into his embrace.

"I'm the Imperial Envoy of the Great Jin Empire. They won't harm me. But, as long as I'm stuck here, I will be thwarted in an important matter Father has entrusted to me." He paused, then added sweetly, "You will help me, won't you, my dear?"

"What is it?"

"Take the gold seal from around my neck."

Mercy felt under his collar and untied a silk cord.

"This is the seal of the Imperial Envoy. Take it to Lin'an and ask for an audience with the Song Chancellor Shi Miyuan."

"The Chancellor? He'd never receive a commoner like me."

"He'll welcome you quickly enough when he sees the seal."

Darkness hid a smug smile from Mercy.

"Tell him I can't be there personally because I'm being held by the pirates of Lake Tai, but that I have one simple message for him. He must not grant the Mongol emissary an audience. The moment they arrive in Lin'an, he must order their arrest and beheading immediately. This is a secret decree, direct from the Great Jin Emperor. It must be followed to the word."

"Why?" She stiffened.

"It's a military matter of the greatest import. You won't understand, even if I explain it. Just repeat what I said to the Song Chancellor and you will have done me a great favour. If the Mongolians get to Lin'an before me, it will be very bad for our Great Jin Empire."

"Our Great Jin Empire? I am Chinese, an honest subject of the Song. I will not do this for you until you have explained everything."

"Aren't you a future royal consort to the Great Jin Empire?"

Mercy shot to her feet. "You are the true-born son of my godfather. You are no Jurchen. You are Han Chinese. Do you really intend to stay a Jin prince? I thought . . . I thought you . . ."

"What?"

"I thought you were a brave and wise man. I thought you were just pretending to be a Jin prince, biding your time so you could do something great for our fatherland. Our Song Empire. Yet, you . . . you actually see that Jin invader as your father!"

Wanyan Kang was alarmed by this change in her. He could sense the words and emotions choking in her throat, and maintained a tactful silence.

"Half of our country is occupied by the Jin." Mercy had found her voice once more. "Our people are murdered, tortured, robbed, suppressed by the Jurchen. Do you really not feel a thing? You . . . You . . ."

She tossed the seal to the floor and made for the door, her face buried in her hands.

"Mercy! I was wrong. Come back."

She stopped.

"When I'm free, I won't play this silly envoy game anymore. I won't go back to Zhongdu. I'll travel south with you. We'll live together, as recluses. We'll be farmers! It would be so much better than feeling wretched like this all the time."

Mercy sighed. When she had lost the Duel for a Maiden to Wanyan Kang, she thought she had given her heart to a hero, an outstanding man. She had convinced herself that he had refused to recognise his birth father, Ironheart Yang, for some noble reason she was yet to understand. When he travelled as the Jin Imperial Envoy, she decided he must be using his position of influence to do something spectacular, something that would aid the restoration of the Song Empire. All along, she had been nothing more than deluded, blinded by her feelings.

He was no great man. He would not hesitate to betray his ancestors for personal gain.

He was a scoundrel.

This was a rude awakening.

"Mercy? My dear . . ."

No answer.

"Ma told me I was sired by your godfather. But, as you know, before I could ask her more about him, they both departed from this world. You don't know how heavy it weighs on my heart. One's birth and bloodline is an important matter. I can't let it lie in doubt like that."

I'm too harsh on him. He doesn't understand his lineage yet. Mercy's heart was softening. "Don't ever mention going to the Song Chancellor again. I will find Lotus and come back with the dagger."

But Lotus had changed her mind: He can stay locked up, for all I care! Papa hates the Jin.

"How did you find your way? This place is a maze," Wanyan Kang asked, after a pause.

"I was guided by two masters, but they stayed in the shadows."

Lotus chuckled silently at being called a master.

Wanyan Kang pondered Mercy's answer. "I worry you might be discovered by the martial masters of this manor when you return with the dagger. If you really want to help me, there's someone I need you to find."

"I'm not going to any Chancellor."

"I know. You've made that very clear. I'm talking about my shifu . . . Take my belt. Carve this message in the gold hoop: 'Wanyan Kang in trouble at Roaming Cloud Manor on Lake Tai's western shore.' Thirty li north of Pingjiang, you will find a desolate hill. Look for a stack of nine human skulls. One on top, three in the middle, five at the bottom. Put the belt under the top one."

"Eh?"

"Shifu is blind. Carve it deep. It has to be legible by touch alone."

"I thought your teacher was the Immortal of Eternal Spring. When did Elder Qiu lose his sight?"

"This is my other shifu. She will come when she finds the message. Don't tarry in the area once you've set down the belt. Shifu can be . . . unpredictable. I don't want you to get hurt. Her kung fu is superb; she'll set me free. Wait for me at the Temple of the Impenetrable Sublime, in Pingjiang."

"You must give me your word. Swear to me, you will never betray your country. Promise me you will never again call Wanyan Honglie Father."

"I will act according to my conscience when I understand everything." A distinct note of displeasure had crept into Wanyan Kang's voice. "What's the point of making me swear now? If you don't want to help me, that's fine. It's your decision."

"Fine! I'll deliver your message." Mercy untied Wanyan Kang's belt.

"You're leaving already, my dear? Let me kiss you farewell."

"No!" She was already at the door.

"I fear they'll kill me before Shifu arrives. I may never see you again."

Mercy sighed and turned back. It was impossible to steel her heart against him. She leaned into his embrace and let him kiss her on the cheeks.

Wanyan Kang had hoped to use physical contact and sweet whisperings to weaken her resolve, so she would agree to see the Song Chancellor. He could feel her body responding to his tactics. The tingling tremors, the shallow breathing. Mercy's desire was being rekindled.

"If you prove to be dishonourable, there is only one fate left to me. To kill myself before your eyes."

Wanyan Kang had not expected her to speak with such detachment and conviction in this heightened state. By the time he had come to terms with her words, Mercy had left.

Lotus and Guo Jing guided Mercy out of the manor in the same way as they had led her to Wanyan Kang's cell.

After scaling the perimeter wall, the young woman fell to her knees. "Masters, please accept this gesture of gratitude." She kowtowed three times.

A girlish giggle rang in the air. "Oh dear, we don't deserve that."

Mercy looked around. The stars were shimmering, the flowers fluttering in the breeze, but there was not so much as half a shadow in sight.

The voice sounded so like Lotus. But why would Lotus be here? Even if it was her, how would she know the way?

Mercy turned the night's events over and over in her head as she walked away from the manor. Before long, she had traversed more than a dozen li. Tired, she rested under a tree until the morning, when she would find passage across Lake Tai to Pingjiang.

5

PINGJIANG WAS A FLOURISHING CITY OF SILKS AND GARDENS, almost as wealthy and bustling as the capital, Lin'an. There was a well-known saying, comparing the glory of the two cities with the celestial realm: "Above are the heavens, on earth Pingjiang and Lin'an." Now, with the Song Imperial Court's relocation to the south, all the riches south of the Huai River were gathered in these two cities. Nowhere else in the world could compare with their opulent architecture or the affluence of the inhabitants. The Song Emperor and officials, indulging in the peace and prosperity that yet reigned in the south, had forgotten the groans and sufferings of their people in the north, who were being trampled daily under the iron hooves of their Jurchen overlords.

Yet, Pingjiang's urbane sights were of no interest to Mercy Mu. She found a quiet corner in which to carve the message into Wanyan Kang's belt hoop. Holding the belt, her mind wandered back to yesternight, when it was still fastened around its owner's waist. She prayed it would encircle his body once more, and that one day she would have the pleasure of clasping it shut. That would mean he had understood his parentage and sworn allegiance to a just cause. There would be hope for their union.

She tied the belt under her outer garments and felt her heart pounding. It was as if she was wrapped in his embrace. She blushed at the thought.

The sun had started to sink below the horizon in the west and she turned her mind to the task at hand. She had a quick snack at a noodle shop and went north, as instructed.

As she left the city, her surroundings grew desolate. The sun disappeared behind the hills to the cries of unseen birds in the distance. Though unnerved, she pushed on, veering off the road into a valley. By now, only the last hint of twilight remained. There was no sign of the skulls Wanyan Kang had described. She would have to spend the night here in the wilderness and resume her search when it was light again. She climbed up a hill to look for shelter. Eventually, she spotted some structures by a hillock in the west.

Relieved that she had found a roof for the night, she ran towards them. She was greeted by a dispiriting sight. A broken sign hung above the entrance: Temple of the Earth God. Gingerly, she gave the doors a nudge. They tipped back and crashed to the ground, throwing up a great cloud of dirt and soot as they did so. She waited a moment before tiptoeing into the main hall. The Earth God and the Earth Goddess were cloaked in dust and wrapped in spider webs. A large altar table sat before the deities. She pressed her weight on it. The wood felt strong and the structure solid. It would work as a bed. She busied herself making the place habitable for the night. She collected some straw and wiped the dust off her makeshift bed, then propped the doors back up to block the entrance – two flimsy guards against the outside world. When all was ready, she ate some dried bread and rested her head on her knapsack.

But Mercy could find no rest. Wanyan Kang filled her thoughts. Tears fell down her cheeks as she thought about his continued allegiance to the Jin, a dark cloud over their future together, but she smiled all the same at the memory of his sweet words and even sweeter touch. Conflicting feelings kept sleep at bay until late into the night.

Waves of whirring and hissing washed over the abandoned temple, waking Mercy from her uneasy sleep. She sat up and listened. The noise was coming closer. She peered through the gap between the doors. What she saw made her tremble in fear.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands of snakes were slithering eastwards past the temple. Their scales glistened under the moon. A peculiar stench filled the air. It was a long time before the serpents began to thin out. Then she heard footsteps. Three men, dressed head to toe in white, brought up the rear, each prodding the ground with a long staff.

Mercy huddled behind one of the doors, hoping that the men had not noticed her. Once out of earshot, she peeped her head out again. Her surroundings were once again returned to their night-time hush, giving no hint of the scene Mercy had just witnessed. She opened the doors wider and stuck her head out completely. Tentatively, she stepped into the open and ventured in the direction the snakes had taken, but the three men had disappeared into the night. There was no point in looking. As she headed back to the temple with relief, she caught sight of a splash of white shimmering against a nearby rock. She slowly approached, and then barely suppressed a yelp.

Skulls, stacked neatly.

One on top, three in the middle and five at the bottom.

Exactly nine skulls.

The very thing she had been looking for all evening. Nonetheless, this unexpected encounter set her heart racing. She edged near the grotesque objects and, trembling, reached for the skull at the top. Her fingers slipped into the five holes in the crown. The cranium opened up and swallowed her hand! Jolting back, she screamed. She stumbled back a few steps, before managing to gather her wits. She paused, then laughed a little at herself.

What a strange shifu! Is she as frightening as these skulls? Mercy wondered, as she walked back to the pile of bones and placed the belt under the top skull.

Master, I hope you will find the belt and free him, she prayed silently. I hope you will guide him to change his ways, so he can become the honourable man he was born to be.

Just then, a tap on her shoulder.

The shock chased Wanyan Kang's handsome face from Mercy's mind. She leapt over the pile of skulls. Holding her arms over her chest for protection, she turned.

Another tap on the shoulder. She turned again. No-one.

Tap. Turn. Nothing.

Nothing behind her, not even a shadow.

Tap.

Mercy was now too spooked to move. Is this a ghost? A demon? A monster? A cold sweat broke out across her skin as her mind raced through a list of all the kinds of supernatural beings that haunt the night.

"Who are you?" A feeble squeak.

"Hmm . . . Such a sweet scent!"

Someone was sniffing the back of her neck.

"Guess who?!"

She spun round.

A white scholar's robe. A gentleman's folding fan. He's one of the men who drove Papa to his death!

Mercy fled.

But he was much faster. Suddenly she found that she was throwing herself headlong into his open arms. She veered to the left. With a couple of strides, the man overtook her. Waiting, arms wide to receive her. He leered. She dashed in another direction. But there he was again.

It was all a game to Gallant Ouyang. He only needed a fraction of his kung fu and the girl would be firmly in his clutches. But why spoil the fun?

Sha, sha! Mercy hacked her willow sabre at his head.

"My, my! Like it rough, eh?"

Gallant Ouyang reclined a little as he lifted his right hand to guide her arms away. He grabbed the chance to snake his arm around her waist.

Mercy squirmed and struggled against his inappropriate embrace. She felt a numbness between her thumb and forefinger. The sabre was snatched from her grasp and clattered to the ground. For a moment, she thought she had repelled his offensive hands. But they returned, twining tighter around her body. His fingers closed around her wrists, squeezing her pulse and cutting off her strength.

"Call me Shifu and I'll let you go this instant." Gallant Ouyang flashed an amorous grin and shifted her arms into the grip of one hand so he could caress her face. "I'll also teach you how to break free. But I suspect, by then, you'd want my arms around you all day."

Paralysed by the fear that he might rob her of her chastity, Mercy blacked out. When she came to, she felt limp and unable to summon any energy in her body.

For a moment, she thought the strong arms encircling her were Wanyan Kang's. She opened her eyes. Gallant Ouyang's face filled her vision. She tried to kick and scream. But her body would not respond and her cries were muffled, gagged by a handkerchief that had been tied over her mouth.

Her captor ignored her. His entire focus was taken up by something ahead. Why did he look anxious, suddenly?

Though Mercy had lost control of her body, she could still move her eyes and turn her head. She could feel through her back that she was lying across Gallant Ouyang's lap and he was sitting cross-legged on the ground. She glimpsed four women flanking them on either side, dressed in matching white outfits. Their weapons unsheathed, they were staring at the same fixed point in nervous anticipation.

She followed their gaze.

The skulls.

They're waiting for his shifu, she thought, as she looked in the other direction.

A waking nightmare confronted her. The dark landscape had come alive in a moving sea of red ripples, as far as her eyes could see. Tens of thousands of snakes, wiggling their forked tongues. The three men she had seen earlier stood among the serpents, their staffs raised in expectation.

Mercy looked across at the skulls and focused her eyes on the golden hoop of Wanyan Kang's belt, watching as it glimmered in the moonlight. She came to a sudden realisation: they must have planned this attack on Wanyan Kang's shifu. How could she take on so many enemies and snakes on her own?

Terror seized Mercy. Part of her prayed that Wanyan Kang's shifu would not appear, as she would not want anybody important to her beloved to be in danger. Yet, this mysterious mentor was also her only hope. Who else could defeat her villainous captor and deliver her from this horrible fate?

By now, the men and the snakes had been waiting for more than an hour. Gallant Ouyang was checking the position of the moon with increasing frequency.

Maybe his shifu will arrive when the moon reaches its highest point, Mercy thought, as she watched moonbeams caress the tips of the nearby pine trees and colour the cloudless night with a wash of indigo.

There was no sound but the screeching of owls over the ever-present humming of insects. Gallant Ouyang looked at the sky once more and passed Mercy Mu into the arms of one of the women next to him. He stared at the hills beyond, his folding fan poised in his right hand.

Wanyan Kang's shifu must be about to arrive, any moment now.

A distant shriek punctured the air.

At the foot of the hill, a whirlwind of a shadow morphed into a woman with long unkempt hair.

Iron Corpse Cyclone Mei had managed to unblock the trapped energy in her Long Strong pressure point within a month of learning the secrets of neigong from Guo Jing. Not only had she regained the use of her legs, her internal strength had also grown significantly. But with her hideout in the Prince of Zhao's residence exposed, she had travelled south with Wanyan Kang's entourage. She had no desire to sail across Lake Tai with them, however, as being confined to a small cabin would force her to abandon her midnight kung fu practice. So she travelled on foot around the lake instead, having arranged to rejoin the young Prince at Pingjiang.

Of course, she did not know that Wanyan Kang had been taken prisoner by the pirates of Lake Tai. Nor that Gallant Ouyang had been following her, plotting to avenge the insult he suffered, for she had killed four of his concubines and torn his robe. Moreover, he was determined to get his hands on the Nine Yin Manual and had been waiting for an opportunity to ambush her.

The moment Cyclone Mei emerged from between the hills, she slowed.

Breathing. More than one person. And what was that faint hissing noise?

She halted.

The blind hag has sensed us! Gallant Ouyang cursed silently, but they still had the element of surprise to their advantage.

Flicking his fan, he stood up, ready to lunge. Just as the energy coursed to his toes, the appearance of a second figure forced him to pull back.

Hovering on cloud and riding on fog, this newcomer drifted in like a phantom, his feet barely touching the ground. He stood behind Cyclone Mei and cast his eyes over Gallant Ouyang and his creatures.

Tall and thin, he wore a green robe and a square scarf over his hair – the trappings of an educated man. Yet, one look at his face would make anyone's skin crawl. Cold to the core. Wooden to the extreme. Lifeless and expressionless, his was the look of the undead, frozen except for the eyes.

However, it was the stranger's kung fu that really gave Gallant Ouyang the chills.

Even Cyclone Mei walks with a scratching noise, Gallant thought. Somehow, this man moves in almost complete silence. I must act fast.

With that thought, the Master of White Camel Mount made a signal with his left hand. The snake herders whistled and the serpents surged, slithering around Mercy Mu and the eight women in white.

Cyclone Mei gathered her qi and leapt back several paces. She had, by now, worked out that the unusual noise was the sound of thousands of writhing snakes. With a twist of her body, she unwound a long whip from her waist and whisked up a silvery circle of protection.

Mercy could see the fear in the woman's face. Was this his shifu?

The snake herders brandished their staffs and the serpents scattered. In no time at all, the snakes had surrounded Cyclone Mei. Those in the front line sprang to attack at the whistles' urging, but Mei's lash sent them flying back.

"Give me the Nine Yin Manual and I'll let you go, hag!" Gallant Ouyang called.

He had been planning the attack since he learned the Manual was in Cyclone Mei's possession, in Wanyan Honglie's palace. His uncle, Viper Ouyang, had spent decades searching for the coveted martial-arts tract. If he managed to seize it from her, it would elevate his standing, not only in his uncle's eyes, but in the eyes of the whole martial world. It would make his trip to the Central Plains worthwhile.

Receiving no reply, the Master of White Camel Mount said, "I don't mind waiting. Go on. Wave your whip. You can do it for hours. Until daybreak, if you like. Let's see who gives up first."

The moonlight danced with the silver coil. A thousand rays flashed.

Cyclone Mei kept her tongue in check and her whip airborne. Time was not on her side. Her strength, as he had predicted, would soon be spent. Was there a way out? Deadly serpents in every direction. She might be bitten if she moved her foot by a mere inch. And once the venom had entered her bloodstream, no kung fu would be able to help her.

Relishing his control of the situation, Gallant Ouyang sat down again and addressed Mei with mock familiarity. "Sister Mei, you've had the Manual for twenty years. Surely you know it by heart, by now? Why hang on to a tatty old book? Lend it to me and we can be friends."

"Call off your snakes first."

"I'll happily oblige, as soon as I hold the Manual in my hands."

I'll tear it to pieces first, Cyclone Mei thought to herself. The Manual was the only memento she had left of her husband, Hurricane Chen. It was dearer to her than life itself. And she had vowed never to let it fall into enemy hands.

Mercy Mu wanted to shout, Jump into the trees! but the gag swallowed her words. Without her sight, Cyclone Mei did not realise she could find refuge in the silent pine trees standing just beside her.

Mei reached inside the pocket in her shirt. "Fine! I admit defeat. Come and get it."

"Throw it to me."

"Catch!"

She flicked her right hand. The air murmured.

Two women in white were hit by something and slumped sideways. Gallant Ouyang threw himself to the ground and rolled away.

"You'll regret this, crone!" he yelled in anger. "You'll be begging me for death when I've finished with you!" He regained his footing and retreated to a safe distance as a cold sweat broke out across his back.

Cyclone Mei had not expected to miss her target. Few could detect her Vanishing Needles, lightning fast and silent as they were. Even fewer could evade them. She felt a grudging respect for her opponent's kung fu.

Gallant Ouyang watched her hands carefully, now that he was out of her range. She continued to lash her whip, but, having done so for more than an hour, her defences were beginning to weaken. Gallant urged the snakes forward.

Mei could sense the hundreds of snakes at her feet, and could still hear thousands more approaching. She could last only so long. How am I going to get out of this? she asked herself as she tightened the circle of protection to conserve energy.

Noticing how she was growing short of breath, Gallant Ouyang knew the moment was close and signalled the herders to keep the pressure up. Yet, a part of him feared closing in on her too quickly, in case she realised death was upon her and she destroyed the Manual. His whole focus was now on her free hand, ready to intercept the second he sighted the Manual.

Mei clutched onto the Manual in her shirt pocket as the snakes edged closer. She was angry at the thought of being bested by these legless, scaly creatures, and frustrated because her husband's death would go forever unavenged.

Just then, music resounded in the hills, clear as the twang of a zither string or the clang of jade. The night quivered to the airy bright tones of the xiao flute.

The tune came from the green-robed man, now sitting atop a pine tree.

When did he get up there? Gallant Ouyang prided himself on his powers of observation. It was inconceivable that he could have missed the man climbing the tree on such a clear, moonlit night. He was even more alarmed by the way the stranger was perched on the tip of a branch, swaying to and fro with the wind. Effortlessly steady. Even if he spent years devoting himself to the practice of lightness kung fu under his uncle's guidance, Gallant Ouyang would never be able to attain such ease. Could he be a ghost?

The man had only been playing for a short time, yet Gallant Ouyang began to feel the corners of his lips tugged upwards by the melody. As each note wove tightly into the next, an indescribable feeling rose and spread like wildfire inside him. How he yearned to feed the rapture with dancing!

As he lifted his arm and kicked his foot to the rhythm, he noticed his women and snake herders careering towards the tree from which the music was emanating. Spinning and raving, they tore at their clothes, pulled at their hair and scratched their cheeks. Manic grins split their grazed, bloodied faces. Intoxicated by the flute song, they did not seem to feel pain.

A feeble voice of clarity warned Gallant Ouyang to control his heart and mind. Tapping some hidden resource of strength, he dug out six poisoned silver shuttles and flung them at the musician's head, chest and abdomen. The man flicked each of them away with the end of his xiao. All the while, the flute's mouthpiece never left his lips. The music did not pause for a second.

The melody turned and soared. Gallant Ouyang could no longer steel himself against its call. He unfurled his fan, ready to dance. Right then, the last remaining kernel of self-control acquired over decades of kung fu training spoke to him: Tear a piece of cloth from your sleeves. Seal your ears against his music. Or you'll dance to your death if he keeps on playing.

Cyclone Mei was also struggling. She sat cross-legged, her head bowed, in an attempt to gather her inner strength to resist the lure of the music. Meanwhile, Mercy Mu had had a lucky escape. Though the melody played havoc inside her, she lay in perfect stillness, her movements locked through her acupressure points.

Gallant Ouyang managed to wrench his arms from the music long enough to tear a piece of fabric from the front of his shirt. But his hands hovered just beyond his ears, unwilling to shut out the bewitching song. Three of his women with lesser kung fu were now completely ensnared, rolling on the ground as they ripped and shredded their clothes.

The mental battle against the music had drenched Gallant Ouyang in sweat. His cheeks were flushed, his heart raced, his throat was parched and his tongue dry. If he let the frenzy within boil over, he would not survive till morning.

Mustering all the strength and willpower left in him, Gallant Ouyang crushed his teeth down on his tongue. The pain pierced through the music's hold for a brief moment, giving him the chance to flee. And flee he did, until the ghost of the flute song could no longer haunt him. When he finally stopped, several li away, he was drained, as if his body were fighting against a grave illness.

Only one thought remained in his tortured mind: Who was that?