And so he taught Guo Jing breathing and the mastery of the breath, the technique of meditating and of eliminating worries.
Guo Jing did what the Taoist explained to him. In the beginning, his thoughts stayed chaotic and difficult to control. But after applying the breathing method, exhaling and inhaling deeply, after a certain time, he slowly felt his heart calm down, and a slow breath brought slowly into his ‘dan tian’
(the area between the groin and the navel) brought a warm feeling. An icy wind blew on the summit of the cliff, but he didn't feel any need to resist it. He remained immobile, stretched out on his side, for close to an hour, before feeling some “ants” in his limbs. The Taoist, who was sitting cross legged in front of him, practicing meditation, opened his eyes, “Now,” said the Taoist, “you can fall asleep.”
Guo Jing obeyed and fell asleep. When he woke up, the rays of the sun had begun to radiate from the east. The Taoist let him down the cliff attached to the rope, telling him to come back this evening. He reminded him not to speak of it with anyone.
Guo Jing returned that evening and the Taoist brought him up with the same rope. During his practice with the six Shifus, he often did not go back home at night, but his mother didn't worry about him.
And so he went in the evening and left at dawn, practicing meditation and the mastery of breathing all night on the summit of the cliff. It was strange; the Taoist hadn't taught him any movements at all, not even the smallest sequence, and yet, in his daily practices, he became lighter and faster. Six months later, the movements that he hadn't managed to do before, now were executed perfectly. The sequences that he had never completed some months ago were executed with speed and precision.
The ‘Six Freaks of Jiangnan’ believed that, with age and the regular practice, he was finally open to learning martial arts. They no longer felt the frustration they had at the beginning of his training.
Every evening, when he arrived at the cliff, the Taoist climbed with him, showing him how to use his breathing and his strength. They went up together until he was incapable of continuing, then the Taoist rushed to the summit and raised him with the rope. With the passing of the months, the young man climbed more and more quickly, and higher and higher. The steps once so difficult were cleared with only one jump! Only some particularly difficult places still required the help of the rope.
Another year passed, and only a few months remained before the competition. The ‘Six Freaks of the Jiangnan’ spoke of this event as though it was going to change the world of martial arts and 150
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attract the attention of all the brave heroes in the country. Observing Guo Jing’s lightning progress, the Six felt sure to win, and the idea of returning to their home in Jiangnan filled them with joy.
However, they still hadn’t explained to Guo Jing the reasons for this competition.
One morning, Nan Xiren said to Guo Jing, “Jing’er, in these last few months, you’ve mastered the weapons. It may be that you still lack enough practice fighting with bare hands. Today, we are going to work the palms more.
Guo Jing nodded his head.
They arrived at the place where they usually trained. Nan Xiren got ready to begin the lesson when they suddenly saw clouds of dust rising not far away, accompanied by screams and neighs. A herd of horses approached at a fast gallop and the beasts were agitated; the Mongol who herded them had problems retaining control of them with his whip.
Just when they’d barely settled down, one could suddenly see, coming from the west, a small red horse, with the hair the color of fire. It was speeding along in the herd, harassing it with hoofs and bites, before disappearing northward at the speed of the wind. Then, the red tornado came back in the blink of an eye, provoking a considerable tumult in the herd again. Furious, the herders tried to capture this spoilsport, but the horse was so fast that it was impossible to catch it. In an instant, the horse had moved off and stood several zhangs away, neighing proudly, as if he was very happy with the shambles he’d caused. The Mongols didn't know whether to laugh or be angry. When the small horse charged in for the third time, several guards sent arrows in its direction, but he was so astute and fast that he departed before the projectiles reached it. An expert in martial arts couldn’t have done it any better!
The ‘Six Freaks’, along with Guo Jing, were fascinated. Even Han Baoju, who loved horses above all else, had never seen such a magnificent and fast animal. His own horse, ‘Wind Chaser’, had rare speed, unequaled even in Mongolia. However, the small red horse surpassed them all. Han asked the herders where this marvel came from.
“This wild horse,” answered a herder, “comes from some mountains. We first saw it a few days ago, and found it so beautiful that we wanted to capture it, but did not succeed. Our attempt put it in a mean mood and, for these past few days, it keeps coming to bother us.”
“It is not a horse,” said a very serious old horse herder.
“What is it then?” Han Baoju wondered.
“It is a transformed celestial dragon, we shouldn’t bother him!”
“A dragon transformed into a horse!” another horse herder mocked. “What nonsense!”
“What do you know of it? I’ve kept horses for several years, but I never saw an animal as fabulous as this one, ever!” He had not finished speaking when the small red horse sped again into the herd.
The equestrian arts of Han Baoju, nicknamed the ‘Horse God’, were remarkable. Even the Mongols, who constantly lived in the saddle, recognized his superiority. Seeing that the small horse had come back, and knowing well which way he was going to leave, he stood in a strategic position and awaited the passage of the animal. When it approached, he suddenly jumped, a very calculated Eagle Shooting Hero
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jump, so that he should have managed to straddle the beast. He had tamed so many stubborn horses in his life that he had the conviction that once on its back, he wouldn’t fall. However, in a split second, the small red horse accelerated, making Han Baoju miss his mark. Furious, he ran after him, but how could he have caught up with such a fast animal?
Suddenly, someone jumped and seized the mane of the horse with his left hand. Surprised, the horse galloped even faster. Still clutching the horse’s mane, the man let himself be pulled along with his body off the ground. The spectators noisily applauded.
Astonished and delighted, the ‘Six Freaks’ saw that it was Guo Jing that was being cheered!
“But where,” Zhu Cong asked, “did he learn a lightness technique that sophisticated?”
“Our Jing’er has made immense progresses lately,” Han Xiaoying said. “Could it be his dead father that guides him from the heavens? Or would it be Fifth brother?...”
How could they have known that, for the past two training years, the Taoist of the three adornments had taught him every evening, on the cliff summit, the art and mastery of breathing? Even though he didn’t teach him any fighting skills, he had initiated him into the superior art of neigong.
[Neigong could be regarded as a form of internal martial arts involving controlled breathing, meditation and the awareness of what’s happening inside ones own body and to some extent controlling it. It can be used as an aid in the recovery of ones health from illness or injury and improves the skills of external types of martial arts.]
Every evening, when he climbed and descended the cliff, Guo Jing practiced, without the knowledge of his teachers, a very subtle lightness technique called the ‘Flight of the Golden Eagle’.
Having a naturally simple and confident mind, he was completely unconscious of what he had learned from the Taoist. His progress in the mastery of his internal energy and in this technique of the ‘Flight of the Golden Eagle’ only appeared when he practiced lightness techniques with Zhu Cong, Quan Jinfa or Han Xiaoying. He didn't realize it, and the ‘Six Freaks’ were pleasantly surprised at his improved performance, without suspecting the truth.
Observing the neigong of their disciple and his suppleness that didn’t corresponded at all to what they had taught him, they looked on in astonishment, suspecting that the young man had another master.
Guo Jing suddenly executed a somersault in the air and dropped astride the horse. The horse reared, kicked with its hind legs and bounded to all sides as if possessed! But the boy clamped down with his thighs and didn't allow himself to be tossed off.
Han Baoju shouted some instructions to him and told him some tricks to master the horse, which ran with renewed vigor for more than an hour, apparently untiring.
His audience was in awe: the old horse herder knelt and whispered some prayers, imploring the sky not to punish the man for having offended the ‘Dragon Horse’, before shouting to Guo Jing to let him go. But he didn't hear a thing, and stayed glued to the horse as if he was attached by a rope, reacting to all of its movements smoothly.
“Come down off that horse,” Han Xiaoying shouted. “Let your Third Shifu replace you...”
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“Absolutely not!” protested Han Baoju. “Changing the trainer now would risk all of the work he has done up to now!”
He knew very well that such a stallion had to have a strong character. If someone managed to tame it, it would respect its master and would stay forever faithful to him. But if more than one tried to overcome it, it would rather die than submit!