“Why would I fight with you?” Guo Jing said, shaking his head. “Since you do not want to marry the young lady, return her embroidered shoe!”
The spectators, seeing the intervention of Guo Jing, wanted to see what he was capable of and didn't think that he would retreat. Some hooligans even hooted, “Talk without action, it's unworthy of a hero!”
For his part, the young aristocrat, having been caught by Guo Jing, realized that his kung fu wasn't insignificant and especially noted that he had powerful internal energy. He was happy not to fight; but, of course, he couldn't return the embroidered shoe without losing face! He therefore gathered his coat and laughing, turned on his heels.
Guo Jing caught him by the side of the coat and repeated, “How can you just leave?”
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The young aristocrat had a sudden idea. He cast his coat over the head of his opponent and struck two fists into his chest. Wrapped up in the coat, Guo Jing could not avoid the impacts. Fortunately, he had practiced two years of orthodox neigong with Ma Yu, so that these blows, although extremely painful, could not truly injure him. Goaded by anger, he successively launched nine fast kicks while alternating stances; it was a skill technique developed by Han Baoju, which had already enabled him to beat other enemies. Even if the disciple did not yet have the skill of the master, and even if the kicks were made while he was blinded, they disturbed the young aristocrat, who could avoid the first seven, but was caught by the last two fully on his chest.
The two young men simultaneously leapt back. Guo Jing, still amazed, got rid of the coat that hampered him. He could not believe such treachery on behalf of his adversary. “He knew full well,”
he thought, “that he’d entered a ‘Joust to Find a Spouse’. He won, and yet refused to marry the young lady! Moreover, when I tried to reason with him, not only was it he who struck first, but he used a shameful trick! If I hadn't practiced neigong, he would have broken my ribs and crushed my internal organs!” Being of a simple and open nature, and since he had always lived with decent people, he did not know anything about the perfidy of human nature. Even though, during the past years, his Masters had not failed to warn him about tricks and treacheries which one might meet in Jianghu, he’d listened to them the way one listens to stories and they did not remain in his memory long since they had not been experienced. At that moment, he was furious and perplexed, not able to believe in the existence of such low methods.
The young aristocrat, angered by the two kicks he had received, advanced on Guo Jing with his fist raised. Guo Jing defended, but could not avoid the rain of blows which fell on him and he fell down. The servants were laughing. Their Master puffed out his chest and said while laughing, “So you think you can play the deliverer of justice with your three-legged cat technique? Go back home and tell your Shimu [this is a put-down of his Shifus since it means ‘the wife of a teacher’] to give you lessons for twenty more years!”
Guo Jing got up, breathed in deeply, circulated his chi in his whole body so that the pain diminished. “My Shifu doesn't have a wife,” he retorted.
“Then tell him to marry one quickly!”
Guo Jing was going to answer, “I have six Shifus, and one of them is a woman..." but did not have time. He saw that the other was going to leave, so he advanced on him, fist raised, and shouted,
“Prepare yourself!”
The young aristocrat dodged, Guo Jing swung a left hook right at his face which the other blocked.
They stood, their arms holding onto their adversary's, each one trying to use internal energy to overcome the other. Guo Jing was a little stronger but his opponent had better techniques and it was difficult to decide between them.
Guo Jing breathed in deeply to concentrate his internal energy, while the other suddenly loosened his pressure. Guo Jing fell forward. As he tried to regain his balance, he felt a stroke coming from behind. He hastened to avoid it but, not having regained full balance, he stumbled. While falling, he supported himself on his elbow, rebounded and, while spinning in the air, delivered a kick with his left foot. Watching this fast and spectacular recovery, the crowd applauded.
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The young aristocrat moved away and attacked with two palms, one was a feint to confuse his adversary, while the other was the real stroke. Guo Jing then used the technique ‘Disconnect the Muscles and Separate the Bones’; his hands fluttered in all directions, aiming at all the tendons and joints of the body. Seeing the violence of this attack, the aristocrat suddenly changed tactics; he began to use the same technique! There was a difference however; the one learned by Guo Jing had been invented by Zhu Cong, the ‘Magical Hands Scholar’. It diverged from the orthodox technique taught by the masters of the central Plains considerably. The two looked similar in their principles, but had some differences in execution. One extended his index and middle fingers trying to seize the opponent’s ‘Supporting the Old’ [Yang Lao] accupoint behind the wrist; the other tried to hook and seize the opponent’s knuckles. The two felt mutual apprehension and didn't dare to commit completely, barely sketching a movement before changing to another. After forty or so exchanges, they still couldn’t tell who had the upper hand.
Snow continued to fall and a fine white layer covered the heads and the shoulders of the spectators that surrounded them. Suddenly, the young aristocrat seemed to leave an opening on his chest. Guo Jing saw it immediately and tried to benefit from it by pointing his index finger at the point ‘Tail of Turtledove’ on his adversary. But he had some reservations about using this action. “There is no hate between us,” he said to himself, “I can’t use such a deadly stroke on him!” He then diverted his finger and touched another point which had no effect on his adversary. The young aristocrat had enough time to catch his wrist and pull him, while hooking him with his foot. Guo Jing lost his balance and fell once again.
Mu Yi, whose hand had just been bandaged by his daughter, also watched the two. He saw Guo Jing fall for the third time and understood that he was not experienced enough to face the insolent youngster and he hastened to lift him from the ground. “Little brother,” he said, “let it go. There’s no point in staying among scoundrels of this kind any longer!”
Guo Jing had seen stars and was hurt, but he felt rage mounting in his head. He moved away from Mu Yi and rushed at his adversary, while increasing the number of strokes. The young aristocrat, surprised to see him insist on continuing in spite of the beating that he had received, moved back three steps. “Don't you admit your defeat?” Guo Jing didn't answer and continued to attack.
“If you don't stop,” the young aristocrat threatened, “I am going to be obliged to kill you!”
“If you don't return the shoe,” Guo Jing retorted, “I will never be finished with you!”
“But this girl is not even your sister, why do you persist in wanting to be my brother-in-law?”
“To be the brother-in-law of someone,” constituted an insult in the Jin capital, and the scoundrels in the crowd exploded with laughter when they heard it. Guo Jing didn't understand any of it.
“I don't even know her,” he said, “and she isn’t my sister!”
The young aristocrat no longer knew whether to laugh or to be angry! He ended up saying, “Then protect yourself you stupid fool!”
The two young people continued to fight. This time, Guo Jing was more prudent and didn't fall into the repeated traps that his adversary prepared for him. In fact, from a strictly technical viewpoint, the kung fu of the young aristocrat was superior, but Guo Jing never gave up and fought like a barbarian. Even after he received blows, he continued to attack with persistence and without Eagle Shooting Hero
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retreating. He had fought like this when he was small, during the fights with the kids of Dukhsh’s gang. Even though he had acquired more agility while learning martial arts, his way of fighting hadn’t fundamentally changed and it was in his nature to fight with savagery. He had forgotten the recommendation of his Fourth Shifu. ‘If you can’t defeat the enemy, flee!’ In his mind, the more important formula had always been, ‘If the enemy is unbeatable, persist!’, except that he didn't realize it!
The spectacle attracted more and more spectators and the area was completely filled. The wind and snow had increased in intensity, but no one left.
Mu Yi, with much experience in the Jianghu region, well knew that, if the fight continued, the crowds were going to attract the attention of the authorities and maybe provoke their intervention.
He knew that it would be better to not expose themselves to that possibility! But, this young man had generously come to help them; he could not leave him here alone. He felt very anxious. He raised his eyes and was vaguely viewing the assembly, when he noticed in the crowd, several individuals who seemed to belong to the martial world. He had been so focused on the fight that he had not even noticed their arrival.
He then moved slowly, approaching the servants of the young aristocrat who were standing in a group. Watching them out of the corner of his eye, he saw, among them, three characters with a martial look. The first wore a scarlet Buddhist monk’s dress and a golden cap; it was a very tall Tibetan lama. The second, medium-sized, had silvery white hair and a ruddy, beaming face with smooth skin like a baby, without one wrinkle. He was clothed in a long robe, but one couldn’t tell if it was Taoist or Buddhist. The third was very small, but his blood-shot eyes had a piercing look, and he wore a proud small mustache.