“Very well,” Genghis Khan said. “We are still weak at the moment and we cannot face the Jin Empire directly. It will be necessary for you to be careful and not to let them guess our intentions.”
Guo Jing agreed. The Khan gave him ten taels of gold for his journey and offered the Six Freaks a part of the spoils plundered from Ong Khan. Learning that he was to leave on a mission to the south, all of Guo Jing’s Mongol friends also offered gifts to him.
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“My Anda,” Tolui reminded, “the people of the south don't keep their word, you must be careful, and not get duped ...”
At dawn three days later, Guo Jing and his Shifus left for the grave of Zhang Ahsheng to pay homage. Then they returned to bid farewell to Li Ping before taking the road to the south. Li Ping watched the tall silhouette of her son riding the small red horse as it disappeared on the steppe. She thought of his birth on that desolate battlefield, and felt her heart tighten with concern and sadness.
After riding about ten Li, Guo Jing saw two white eagles soaring in the sky; Tolui and Hua Zheng had come to bid him farewell. Tolui offered him a valuable coat of flawless black sable which he had taken from Ong Khan. Hua Zheng, with glowing cheeks, looked at her future husband without saying anything.
“Oh go ahead, little sister,” Tolui said, “speak to him! I will not listen to what you'll say!” He burst out laughing and moved away.
Hua Zheng bowed her head, not finding anything to say... “Return quickly!” she finally murmured.
Guo Jing nodded his head. “What else do you want to say to me?” he asked. She shook her head.
“Then, I'll go ...” She lowered her head without saying another word.
Guo Jing leaned over, lightly pressed her to him, then rode towards Tolui and hugged him also.
Then he urged his horse into a gallop in order to catch up with his six Shifus who were already far ahead.
Him being so formal and not showing any tenderness, even though they were promised in marriage and he was traveling faraway, Hua Zheng felt a surge of anger. As she rode off she violently whipped her horse even though the poor animal had nothing to do with the situation ...
End of Chapter 6.
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Chapter 7 – Joust to Find a Spouse
Translated by Strunf, Patudo, Dugu Seeking a Win and SunnySnow
Guo Jing snatched the ‘joust to find a spouse’ banner and swept the banner pole across the length of his arm; the banner flipped over the Young Prince’s face. The Young Prince slanted his body aside and raised his spear. With a red circling shadow and a flickering spearhead he thrust the spear at Guo Jing.
The ‘Six Freaks of Jiangnan’ and Guo Jing took the southeastern route. The journey promised to be long and many days passed before they’d even left the steppe. One day, they were not very far from Zhangjiakou [known as Kalgan at this time]. It was the first time that Guo Jing had put his feet on Chinese soil; everything was new to him and he was full of enthusiasm. He loosened his hold on the reins of his horse and it ran so quickly that the wind whistled in his ears and the landscape changed quickly before his amazed eyes. The little red horse galloped without interruption until he reached the Black River [Amur River or Heilong Jiang], then Guo Jing stopped at a roadside hostel in order to wait for his masters.
After this long run, the horse was covered with sweat, so Guo Jing took a handkerchief to wipe it down. He was stunned to see traces of blood on the handkerchief! After passing his hand along its neck, he saw more blood when he withdrew it. He almost burst into tears, blaming himself for not stopping his horse and not taking better care of it. He was the one responsible for its loss! He embraced the horse and caressed him nearly one thousand times; yet somehow, the animal seemed to be very healthy and didn’t appear to be suffering any ill affects.
While waiting for his Third Shifu, who would properly care for the horse, he couldn't stop turning his head toward the road, hoping to see him. Suddenly he heard the tinkling of bells as four snow white camels arrived running full speed on the road. Each was ridden by an individual clothed in white. Guo Jing had grown up near the steppe, but he had never seen any camels as beautiful and couldn’t stop staring fixedly at them. The four camel riders, of about twenty years in age, had similar faces with fine lines and attractiveness; a type of beauty rarely seen in Mongolia. With graceful agility they got down from their mounts to enter the hostel. Guo Jing could not take his eyes off them.
One of the four, embarrassed by his staring, blushed and lowered her head. Another one, who was bolder, got angry, “Little fool! Why do you look at us like that?”
Guo Jing, taken aback, turned his head in embarrassment. The newcomers whispered in low voices and laughed. “Congratulations!” one said to another. “You really dazzled that fool!”
Guo Jing knew that the speaker ridiculed him and felt ashamed. His cheeks turned red. Just as he was wondering if he should remain or leave, Han Baoju arrived on his stallion ‘Wind Chaser’. The young man hastened to tell his Shifu of his misadventure with his horse.
“How is this possible?” Han Baoju wondered. He approached the horse, caressed it, examined his hand attentively, and then exploded in laughter. “It’s not blood,” he said, “it’s sweat!”
“Sweat?” Guo Jing stammered, almost speechless. “Red sweat?”
“Jing’er, it is a horse that sweats blood, a rare beast and of inestimable value!” Guo Jing, happy beyond belief to learn that his horse was not injured asked, “Third Shifu, how can sweat look like blood?”
“I heard from my late Shifu, that there existed in the kingdom of Ferghana [a central Asian Valley, shared today by Uzbekistan, Kirghizstan and Tajikistan.] in the Territories of the west, celestial horses whose sweat was red as blood. At a gallop they looked like they were flying and could cover more than one thousand li per day. But that was just a story and since no one had ever seen one, I didn't believe it myself. However, here is this legendary animal and it let himself be tamed by you!”
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By this time, the other Freaks had also arrived. They took a room in the hostel then ordered something to eat. Zhu Cong, whose learning was incomparable, said while nodding his head, “It is an anecdotal story confined to historic records in the dynastic history of the Han. The story tells that the Emperor Han Wudi, having heard rumors of the horse that sweats blood, sent an emissary to the Kingdom of Ferghana with a full size gold statue of the animal. The emissary asked to have one of them but the king of Ferghana refused.”
“How did the emperor react?” Han Xiaoying asked. “Did he give up on having the horse?” Sitting at another table, the camel riders in white, turned to listen to the story. At that moment, more bells were heard and four more individuals, also clothed in white, entered and sat down with the others.
“Of course not,” Zhu Cong said. “He became enraged and invaded Ferghana. He began a long and vicious war, during which the kingdom was destroyed. He finally captured one of the famous horses, but at such a price!” All commented on the madness of men and continued to eat.
The eight camel riders had listened to the story attentively and gave covetous looks at the red horse tied outside. They kept whispering in low voices. Ke Zhen’E, whose hearing was especially acute, heard them distinctly even though the tables were relatively distant from each other.
“If we’re going to take it,” one of them said, “we need to do it right away. If he rides his horse again, we won’t be able to catch him!”
“There are too many people here,” retorted another. “And he has some friends...”
“If they dare to interfere,” said a third, “we’ll have to kill them all!”
“How can these eight individuals scheme so cruelly?” Ke Zhen’E wondered, but he didn't let anything show and continued to swallow his food greedily.
“We will offer this precious horse to the young Master,” one of them said. “Mounted on such beast, his arrival in Yanjing will be a lot more spectacular! No one will be talked of as much as him, not even vain people like the ‘Ginseng Immortal’ or the ‘Virtuous Supreme Lingzhi’!”
Ke Zhen’E heard them speak of the ‘Virtuous Supreme Lingzhi’, who was an eminent personality from a secret school in Tibet, known in the whole of the southwest for his technique ‘Stamp of a Big Hand’. On the other hand, he didn't know anything about the ‘Ginseng Immortal’.
“These past few days,” another said, “we met a lot of outlaws on the road; they were all Peng Lianhu’s men. They call him ‘Butcher of One Thousand Hands’. They are probably going to the gathering in Yanjing. If they happen on this precious horse, do you think that we’ll get another chance to take it?”
Ke Zhen’E froze. He knew that Peng Lianhu was a dangerous outlaw chief who terrorized the region of Hubei and Shanxi. He had many henchmen under his command and acted with cruelty. He had killed so many people that he had received the nickname ‘Butcher of the One Thousand Hands’.
“Why,” he wondered, “are all these sinister outlaws going to meet in the capital? And where did these eight women come from?”