A Hero Born--The Definitive Edition, page 28
Taking pity on the tired horse, Guo Jing took out a piece of cloth and proceeded to wipe the sweat from its coat. Quickly he pulled back in astonishment; the material had turned a crimson red. He wiped the young horse’s right shoulder and found still yet more blood. Tears of self-reproach collected in his eyes. Why had he not stopped earlier to let the animal rest? Had his neglect caused permanent damage? He threw his arms around its neck. But Ulaan seemed to be in fine spirits and not in the least bit of pain.
Guo Jing surveyed the road to see if Ryder Han was approaching so that he might tend to the colt. Just then he heard the sweet tinkle of bells followed by the sound of four camels plodding toward him from the main roadway. Two were snowy in complexion and all four were straddled by men also dressed in white. They approached the inn and the riders drew their mounts to a halt. Guo Jing noticed the finely embroidered cushions padding the saddles.
Guo Jing was a child of the steppe’s deserts, but white camels were rare and he had never seen such fine animals. He could not take his eyes off them. The riders were only a few years older than him, in their early twenties he guessed, each one as delicately handsome as the last. They leaped from the camels and made for the inn. Guo Jing was enraptured by their expensive robes, fringed at the neck by the finest fox fur. One of the young men glanced across at Guo Jing, blushed, and lowered his head. Another glared at him and growled, “What are you staring at, little boy?”
Flustered, Guo Jing looked away. He heard them laugh. “Congratulations,” one of them mocked in a girlish voice. “He likes you!”
Guo Jing’s ears burned and he was just deciding whether he should leave when Ryder Han came clattering toward him on his horse, Wind Chaser. Guo Jing quickly explained that Ulaan was bleeding.
“How could that be?” Ryder Han approached the animal and stroked its shoulder, before lifting his hand up to the light and breaking into laugher. “That’s not blood, it’s sweat!”
“Sweat?” Guo Jing stammered. “Red sweat?”
“Young man, this is a most valuable horse, I thought you knew that.”
Guo Jing was just relieved he had not injured it. “But, Third Shifu, how can sweat look like blood?”
“My own late shifu once told me that, long ago, way out west in the Kingdom of Fergana, they kept celestial horses whose sweat was red as blood, and who could run as if possessed of wings. Of course, no one has ever seen one and I assumed it was just a legend. I certainly never imagined you would end up riding one!”
The other Freaks had arrived in time to hear Ryder Han’s story. Together they went inside and found a table, and Zhu Cong, who was well-read in the classics, began to explain. “The story appears in the Records of the Grand Historian, as well as the Book of Han. Imperial envoy Zhang Qian returned from his expedition to the western lands and reported to Emperor Han Wudi that he had seen just such a heavenly horse in the Kingdom of Fergana. The Emperor ordered a life-sized version to be cast from one thousand jin of gold and sent it back to the west in exchange for one of the animals. The King sent back word: ‘The Fergana Celestial Horses are treasures of the Kingdom and cannot be gifted to Han Chinese.’ The envoy, considering himself able to speak on behalf of his Emperor and the mighty dynasty of the Han, replied in anger and with words most uncouth, striking the golden horse right there in the King’s Great Hall. Incensed by such rudeness, the King ordered the envoy’s decapitation and confiscated the Han Emperor’s gift.”
“What happened next?” Guo Jing sat wide-eyed and watched as Zhu Cong paused to sip some tea. The four young men in white were similarly mesmerized by the story from where they sat at a nearby table.
“Third Brother,” Zhu Cong said as he lowered his teacup, “you are the horseman among us. Do you know where the Celestial Horses came from?”
“My late shifu told me they were a cross between domesticated and wild horses.”
“Correct. According to the historical records, wild horses were known to gallop all over the mountains outside the capital, Ershi, but they were impossible to catch. The people of Fergana, however, came up with a most ingenious idea. One spring evening, they led some of their female horses to the foot of the mountains and let them free. They were later rounded up and brought back to the city, where they gave birth to these most precious beasts. Guo Jing, young man, your horse might have traveled thousands of miles from the Fergana valley.”
“What did the Emperor do?” Jade Han asked, eager to hear the rest of the story. “Did he give up?”
“Give up? A Chinese Emperor? No, he sent tens of thousands of troops to Ershi under the command of General Li Guangli, giving him the title of Commander of Ershi. But once they passed through the treacherous Jiayu pass, they had to travel through desert. Supplies soon ran out and they lost most of their men before being forced to retreat back to Dunhuang, where they could send to the Emperor for help. In his anger, the Emperor sent envoys to the pass with swords and ordered them to chop off the heads of any soldiers who dared to retreat back into Chinese land. General Li was stuck in Dunhuang.”
At that moment, a faint sound of bells interrupted Zhu Cong’s story as more camel riders arrived at the inn. This time only one of the animals was white. Guo Jing watched as four more handsome young men in white robes fringed with fox fur entered. They joined the others at their table and ordered more food.
“Of course, the Emperor felt the humiliation most acutely, so he ordered another two hundred thousand men to be dispatched, this time with adequate supplies. But even in such numbers, the Emperor feared they were too few, so he ordered all criminals, petty officials, merchants, and sons-in-law who lived with the families of their wives to report for service. He then chose two of the Empire’s finest horsemen, investing one with the title Legate of the Whip and another Legate of the Rein, and provided them with only the best horses. The Han Emperor despised merchants; Sixth Brother Quan, it wouldn’t have been a good time for you. But, Third Brother Han, you would have been most in demand.” Zhu Cong chuckled.
“Why were sons-in-law who lived with their wives’ families to be punished?” Jade Han asked.
“In those days, men who married into a woman’s family did so only out of poverty. In fact, they were bought by the families as slaves. Recruiting these men into the army was a way of punishing the poor. General Li and his men besieged Ershi for forty days, killing thousands until the nobles of Fergana beheaded their king in fright and surrendered. They presented the Celestial Horses to the Han as a gift. The Emperor was delighted and General Li and his men were rewarded with gold and titles. So many perished, and for what exactly? Emperor Wudi gathered his highest officials in a banquet and wrote a song, declaring only the dragon fit to befriend such a fine beast.”
The camel riders listened silently to Zhu Cong’s story, casting envious glances every now and again at the wine-colored horse outside.
“But it’s hard to believe that such a wonderful animal could come from cross-breeding with wild horses alone. And since they only obtained a few, they were cross-bred again with our local horses, meaning that, within a few generations, their sweat was no longer red like blood.”
The Freaks and Guo Jing continued chatting as they ate their noodles.
Whispering together, the camel riders on the other table started to form a plan. But what they did not know was that Ke Zhen’e could hear every word, despite the distance between their tables and the general hubbub of the inn.
“We have to do it before he gets on the horse, otherwise we’ll have no chance of catching him.”
“But it’s too crowded. And he’s not alone.”
“If the others get involved, we’ll kill them all!”
Why were these young girls so vicious? Ke Zhen’e thought to himself as he continued to slurp his noodles, never giving any sign that he could hear them.
“We shall offer this magnificent horse to the young Master and he can ride it north to the capital,” one of them said. “He will be even more admired and no one will even think of the Ginseng Codger or Lama Supreme Wisdom again!”
Ke Zhen’e had heard of Lama Supreme Wisdom Lobsang Choden Rinpoche, of course, a man of great learning from an esoteric school of Buddhism in the northern plains of Kokonor, known across the south and west for his Five Finger Blade kung fu. The Ginseng Codger came from beyond the Great Wall, far up in the north.
“Master doesn’t need this horse to strike fear into the people!” another of the company said.
“Of course not, crowds form like chickens admiring a crane wherever he goes. His prowess is clear for all to see.”
“We have encountered many outlaws out on the roads these past few days,” said another, “all men under Butcher of a Thousand Hands, Tiger Peng. Perhaps they too are heading for the capital? Will we have another chance if we don’t take the horse now? What if they capture it?”
Ke Zhen’e froze. Tiger Peng was a terrible outlaw who controlled much of the mountainous area surrounding the Jin capital in Yanjing. He commanded many thousands of men, all as ruthless as him. Why would they be heading for Yanjing? Was that where these eight young women were from?
Their hushed whispers continued. They decided to wait by the side of the road outside the village, where they could capture Guo Jing’s horse. Their plan confirmed, the conversation turned to gossip.
“You are the one the young Master prefers.”
“He’s thinking of you right this very moment!”
Ke Zhen’e scrunched his brow; he could barely endure such senseless girlish chit-chat, but still he kept listening.
“What reward do you think awaits us if we present the Master with such a wonderful horse?”
“For you? A few more nights in his bed, I should imagine,” giggled another.
The young girl protested and rose to her feet, but was only met with more laughter.
“Control yourselves, don’t give us away. I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”
“The woman who sits with him, she has a sword. She must know how to fight too. She’s rather attractive. If she was ten years younger, I’m sure the Master would fall madly in love with her.”
Ke Zhen’e grew angry. This “Master” could not be an honorable man. He listened as they finished their noodles and went outside to mount their camels.
Ke Zhen’e turned to Guo Jing. “Boy, what did you make of those young women? Do they look like fighters?”
“What women?” Guo Jing replied.
Ke Zhen’e looked confused.
“They were dressed as young men,” Zhu Cong explained to Ke Zhen’e. “Guo Jing, you didn’t notice that they were women in disguise?”
“Have any of you heard of the Master of White Camel Mount?” asked Ke Zhen’e.
None of them had. Ke related the discussion that had just taken place at the neighboring table. The Freaks were stunned to hear of such audacity, but could not help finding it funny.
“I noticed that two of them had particularly big noses and blue eyes,” Jade Han said. “I don’t think they were Chinese.”
“Indeed, those white camels are native only to the deserts of the west,” added Ryder Han.
“They spoke of outlaws gathering in the north. It must be a plot to attack the Song. This could be a calamity for our people. We must stop them.”
“But the competition in Jiaxing is drawing close,” Gilden Quan replied.
It was indeed a conundrum.
“Let the boy go on ahead by himself!” Nan the Merciful said, breaking the silence.
“Let Guo Jing go to Jiaxing alone and we join him once we have sorted this business in the north?”
Nan nodded.
“Not a bad idea,” Zhu Cong said. “The time has come for Guo Jing to be more independent…”
But Guo Jing did not look happy at the thought of parting with his teachers.
“You are a grown man now,” Ke Zhen’e scolded. “Don’t act like a child!”
“Go ahead and wait for us in Jiaxing,” Jade said gently. “We will be there before the new moon comes into view.”
“We never explained to you what exactly is to take place at Jiaxing,” Zhu Cong began. “But the most important thing is that, at midday on the twenty-fourth day of the third lunar month, you must go to the Garden of the Eight Drunken Immortals. Whatever happens, you must be there.”
Guo Jing nodded.
“These women won’t be a problem on such a fast horse,” Ke Zhen’e said. “Don’t bother fighting them; you have more important things to do, so don’t waste your time on such trifles.”
“And if they really are so bold as to try to cause you trouble, the Seven Freaks of the South will stop them!” Ryder Han exclaimed.
It had been more than ten years since Zhang Asheng’s death, but still they could not get used to referring to themselves as six. Their brother was always with them.
“I’m not sure where this White Camel Mount is, but it sounds like a formidable place,” Zhu Cong said. “It’s best to avoid any confrontation with them.”
Guo Jing took leave of his shifus. Having witnessed their protégé single-handedly take on the Four Daemons of the Yellow River, the Freaks were confident that he had absorbed the lessons they had taught him. And while they did have to deal with this gathering of outlaws in the Jin capital, it was also part of a young man’s training in the jianghu to travel alone. Only then would he learn the things a teacher could not pass on.
The Freaks imparted their last piece of advice.
“If all else fails, run!” said Nan the Merciful. But he knew very well that Guo Jing was not one to give ground, even if his opponent was a master of superior skill.
“The martial arts are without limit,” Zhu Cong added next. “Every peak sits under the shadow of another, so every man may meet one stronger than himself. This is true for even the most accomplished masters. When faced with an opponent of considerable skill, the real fighter knows to retreat, practice, and wait for another opportunity to prevail. Never strip the mountain bare and you will not want for firewood. These are not the actions of a coward. And indeed, they are especially pertinent when faced with many foes, rather than just one. Remember your Fourth Shifu’s words, young man!”
Guo Jing nodded and kowtowed, before mounting his horse and heading south. He felt a great sadness to be parted from them; they had spent every day together for the past twelve years. Tears gathered in his eyes and began to wet his cheeks. His thoughts also turned to his mother, alone in the desert. She did not want for clothes or food, as she was being looked after by the Khan and his sworn brother Tolui, but he knew she too must be feeling lonely.
* * *
HE RODE for ten li before the road cut between high mountains. Above him, craggy rock formations hung ominously. It was the first time he had traveled alone in such a strange and foreign landscape. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and gazed ahead down the road. His Third Shifu, Ryder Han, would be most angry if he knew how scared he was.
The road began to ascend, becoming ever more narrow and precipitous, before disappearing behind a large rock. As Guo Jing turned the corner, four white shapes appeared on the road before him. Four of the young women in white, dressed as boys, riding camels. They were blocking the road.
Guo Jing pulled sharply on his reins. Keeping his distance, he called to them: “Hello there! Please let me pass!”
They laughed. “Little boy, why are you scared? Come closer. We won’t eat you.”
Guo Jing’s cheeks turned hot. What should he do? Approach slowly and talk, or rush at them and start fighting?
“Nice horse you have there!” called another. “Come closer, let us take a proper look.”
She spoke as if he were a little child, which angered him, but the road was perilous; to the right the rock face was like a wall and the drop to his left was sheer and absolute. Mist cloaked the way ahead. My shifus told me not to go looking for a fight, he thought. If I charge at them with my horse, they will have to let me pass.
He lifted his sword, squeezed his thighs and his trusty Ulaan shot forward.
“Move aside!” Guo Jing cried. “Or I will knock you into the valley!”
What happened next took only seconds. One of the women jumped from her camel and threw herself at Ulaan’s bridle. With a loud whinny, Guo Jing’s horse flew into the air, through the high mountain clouds, and up over their heads, before landing safely on the other side. They could only watch in amazement.
Behind him, he heard them curse. He turned, just in time to catch sight of two objects flashing in the sunlight as they approached. He knew better than to try and catch them, for fear that they were poisoned, so he whipped the leather cap from his head and caught them before he could be hit.
“Very nice!”
“Impressive kung fu!” called another.
Guo Jing looked into the cap: two silver darts. These are deadly! We are not sworn enemies, Guo Jing thought in alarm, and yet they are willing to kill me for a horse!
He carefully stored the darts in his pouch and spurred his prize colt on, for fear of meeting the next four women.
He rode like this, high up in the clouds, for nearly two hours, covering some eighty li without coming across a trace of them. He allowed himself a brief rest before pressing on, arriving in Kalgan before night fell. It would take them three days to cover the same distance on their camels, so he reckoned he was safe now.
2
Kalgan sits at the meeting point between north and south China, a lively trading center specializing in furs. Guo Jing rode through the city gates and looked around in amazement. He had never seen such a large city. Everything was new to him. He stopped before an inn, hunger gnawing at his stomach. He tied his horse to the post in front and went inside, where he ordered a plate of beef and a kilo of the local flatbread. He ate in the manner of the steppes, rolling the meat in the bread and tearing chunks out of it.
But his meal was interrupted by the sound of shouting outside. Fearing that someone might be stealing his precious horse, he ran to the door. But Ulaan was quietly munching on his fodder. The noise came from two men who worked at the inn. They were taunting a young, gaunt boy dressed in rags. He must have been only a few years younger than Guo Jing, his leather cap full of holes and his cheeks so smudged with dirt that he would have been hard to recognize had they been the best of friends. The boy was clutching a piece of steamed bread and all he could do was laugh, revealing a row of bright white teeth completely at odds with his overall appearance. There was a remarkable intensity to his big, black eyes.
