The presence of these unusual faces astonished Mu Yi. He then heard one of the servants say,
“Supreme Virtue, have the goodness to rid us of this stupid fool, please! If this continues and something serious happens to the young Prince, we servants could face death!”
Hearing this, Mu Yi was shaken. “So,” he thought, “this young scoundrel is a prince! If the fight continues, misfortune might happen to him. Apparently all these experts are part of the royal house and the servants have summoned them here to lend assistance to the prince.”
The Tibetan llama smiled without saying a word. The old man shouted while laughing, “The
‘Supreme Virtue’ Lingzhi is an eminent member of a secret school in Tibet, he cannot stoop so low as to exchange stances with a lowly skilled fighter of this kind, it would be too demeaning... If something should happen, the Prince would at most break your legs; he wouldn’t go so far as to kill you, would he?”
“Anyway,” intervened the small man with the blood-shot eyes, “the young Prince is stronger than this kid, what do you have to fear?” He was small, but also had a piercing voice. The spectators around them jumped when they heard it and turned around to look at him. Made nervous by his menacing look, they lowered their eyes immediately.
“Our young Prince did put in a lot of hard work to learn this kung fu,” the silvery haired old man said, “if he can’t give a public demonstration of it, he would really be frustrated if all these years of effort remains unseen! If someone actually helps him, he will surely be vexed...”
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“Venerable Liang,” the small man said, “to what school does the palm technique of the young Prince belong?”
“Brother Peng,” the old man answered, laughing, “Do you want to put me to the test? The young Prince has a palm technique combining agility with complexity that is indeed difficult to acquire. If I am not mistaken, he has learned his kung fu from a Taoist of the Quanzhen Sect!”
Mu Yi was again startled. “Could this inconsiderate youngster be a disciple of the Quanzhen Sect?”
“The Venerable Liang has a remarkable eye,” the small man said. “You’ve spent your life at the foot of the Mountain of Eternal Whiteness and you’ve dedicated yourself to meditation and to alchemical practices. People say that you rarely come into the Central Plains, and yet you seem to know by heart the styles of the Chinese schools. I admire you greatly.”
“Brother Peng is too generous with his praise,” the old man said, while smiling.
“But,” the small man pursued, “the Taoists of the Quanzhen Sect are of bizarre and surprising character. How could they accept the young Prince as a disciple? That would be rather astonishing.”
“If the Sixth Prince wants to, who can he not entice to join him? Just like you Brother Peng, you are a great hero who dominates Shandong and Shanxi, yet you are now part of the Prince's household.”
The small man acknowledged this. Their attention was again focused on the fight. They noticed that Guo Jing had changed styles again; the rhythm of his palm technique slowed, and his defense was extremely tight. The young Prince had repeatedly searched for ways to attack but had been repulsed by very heavy strokes.
“In your opinion,” the old man asked the small man, “where does this young boy’s kung fu come from?”
“His kung fu is very mixed,” he answered after a moment of hesitation. “One would say that he had several Shifus...”
“Chief Peng is right,” interrupted someone nearby. “This kid is the disciple of the ‘Seven Freaks of Jiangnan’.”
Mu Yi examined the person who had just spoken. It was a skinny man with a dark face and three lumps on his forehead. “He called him Chief Peng; would this small man be the bandit Peng Lianhu, the ‘Butcher of One Thousand Hands’, who slaughters without frowning! As for the ‘Seven Freaks of Jiangnan’, it has been a long time since I heard their name mentioned, could they still be part of this world?”
At this time, the skinny man with the dark face suddenly roared, “Little brat, I finally found you.”
He drew a steel trident, rolled up his sleeves and bounded into the arena. Hearing the noise behind him, Guo Jing turned around and was nose to nose with the man with the three lumps on his forehead; it was the Three-Headed Dragon, Hou Tonghai, the martial uncle of the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’ . Surprised and worried, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. The young Prince took advantage of this hesitation to hit him on the shoulder bringing Guo Jing back to the fight.
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Seeing Hou Tonghai bound into the arena, weapon in hand, the spectators believed that he was going to help one of the fighters and, finding this unworthy, began to hoot. Mu Yi, who now knew that he was also part of the royal household, moved forward, ready to fight him if he tried something against Guo Jing. He remained conscious of the fact that the enemy was superior in numbers. However, Hou Tonghai was not angry at Guo Jing. He sped along to the other side and into the crowd where a puny young boy in rags jumped up after seeing him and turned tail. The
‘Three-Headed Dragon’ rushed after him, followed by four men.
Out of the corner of his eye, Guo Jing realized that it was Huang Rong, the new friend that he had gotten acquainted with in Kalgan. Hou Tonghai pursued him with his weapon in hand, followed by the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’. Very worried, he threw a kick and jumped backward. “A moment please!” he exclaimed. “I need to stop for one moment; we will continue our fight later.”
The Young Prince, tired of this fight, had lost all desire to continue. This request could not have come at a better time. “If you admit your defeat,” he sneered, “you can go...”
Preoccupied with his friend's safety, Guo Jing got ready to lend him assistance when he heard the sound of footsteps; it was Huang Rong who had come back dragging a worn-out old shoe and laughing. Hou Tonghai pursued and called him names and tried to hit him on the back with his trident. But Huang Rong was extraordinarily agile and the trident always missed its target by a small margin. The young boy adroitly slipped through the crowd and had already come out again on the other side. When Hou Tonghai came nearer, one could see the black marks of two palms on his cheeks; obviously, the fragile boy had managed to slap him twice. Hou Tonghai pushed aside everyone in his way and managed to find a path through the crowd, but Huang Rong was already far away. Hou Tonghai stopped and made gestures to show Huang Rong what he had in mind. “If I don't succeed in catching and slicing you up,” Hou Tonghai howled, insane with rage, “I don't want to be called a man any longer!”
Huang Rong waited until Hou Tonghai came nearer before fleeing again. Everyone burst out laughing. In the meantime, three breathless men arrived, they were three of the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’; the one missing was Qian Qingjian, known as ‘Axe Buries Family’.
Seeing such a spectacle, Guo Jing was surprised and pleased at the same time. He thought, “This friend of mine must have excellent kung fu. The other day, in the Black Pine Woods, it must have been him who lured Hou Tonghai away and hung the ‘Four Demons of the Yellow River’ from the trees!” The surprise was not less in the opposition camp.
‘Supreme Virtue Lingzhi’ asked: “Ginseng Immortal, that little beggar has remarkable agility, to which school does he belong? Apparently, Brother Hou has lost this skirmish...”
The white-haired Master of the Mountain of Eternal Whiteness was called Liang Ziwong. Since his youth he had consumed natural ginseng and other herbs which had protected him from the advance of old age. He didn't recognize the kung fu style of the little beggar and shook his head. Then, after a moment, he said, “When I am outside the Pass (the border crossing between China proper and the lands to the north), I’ve often heard claims that the ‘Dragon King of the Demonic Group’ was a frightening expert; who would have thought that his martial brother was such a pitiful figure, even to the point of not being able to handle a mere child?”
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The small man was Peng Lianhu. He frowned without answering. He was a great friend of the
‘Dragon King of the Demonic Group’, with whom he often collaborated and assisted in robbing raids. He knew the kung fu of Hou Tonghai, which was not bad, but couldn't explain how he could be toyed with that easily.
The diversion with Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai had stopped the duel between Guo Jing and the young Prince. The latter clearly had the edge on Guo Jing, since he’d succeeded in making his adversary fall several times; but he himself had received a multitude of blows and felt tired out. He wiped off the sweat which ran down his face with the scarf he wore as a belt.
Mu Yi, who had stowed the brocade banner, held Guo Jing’s hand, thanking him warmly and urging him to leave this place. Suddenly, the pitter-patter of feet was heard as Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai returned, one chasing the other. The former held two pieces of fabric, two pieces which matched pieces missing from the tunic of the latter; the torn tunic exposed a hairy chest. A little later, Wu Qinglie and Ma Qingxiong appeared, weapons in hand, faithfully and breathless following. Missing was Shen Qinggang, whom Huang Rong apparently managed to dispose of in some mysterious way. The commotion provoked more laughter and jibes from the audience.