Guo Jing was happy inside; then someone scolded him. “Little beast! You ruined my great effort!”
The flute had suddenly stopped. Guo Jing turned his head and did not see anyone, but that voice sounded like Huang Yaoshi. He became anxious and regretted his actions. “I don’t know if this long-haired old man is good or bad and I thoughtlessly helped him. I’ve surely increased Rong’er’s father’s anger. If this old man is a monster or evil witch, then I just committed a big mistake?”
He heard the old man’s breathing slowing down to steady breathing. Guo Jing refrained himself from asking the old man questions. He simply sat quietly opposite him, closed his eyes and used that time to meditate. Soon he was able to calm himself and achieve a state of emptiness. He lost track of time and opened his eyes when the morning stars began to dim in the dawn light.
The morning sun shone through the trees and flowers, illuminating the old man’s face. Guo Jing could see him clearly now; his hair and beard were not entirely white and God only knows how many years a shaving knife had not touched his head. He looked like a cave man.
Suddenly the old man’s eyes opened. His eyes were bright and twinkling. He smiled faintly and asked, “Which one of the Quanzhen Seven Masters is your master?”
Guo Jing saw his kindly countenance and was put at ease. He stood up and bowed respectfully,
“Disciple Guo Jing pays his respect to Senior. I am the disciple of the Seven Heroes of Jiangnan.”
The old man seemed surprised. “The Seven Heroes of Jiangnan; is that Ke Zhen’E and the others?
How could they teach you the internal energy cultivation of the Quanzhen Sect?” he asked.
“Actually, Ma Dao Zhang [Taoist Priest Ma] spent two years teaching this disciple, but he did not permit me inside the Quanzhen Sect’s gate and wall,” Guo Jing answered. [Guo Jing meant that he was not taken as Ma Yu’s official disciple.]
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That old man laughed heartily and then made faces. He looked so funny, like a child playing jokes.
“So that’s how it is” he said, “How did you come to Peach Blossom Island?”
“Master Huang told me to come,” replied Guo Jing.
The old man’s face suddenly changed, “What for?” he asked.
“This disciple offended Master Huang,” Guo Jing answered. “I come here to accept my fate.”
“Are you telling the truth?” the old man asked.
“Disciple does not dare to lie,” answered Guo Jing.
The old man nodded, “Very good! Sit down!” he commanded.
Guo Jing sat on a big rock and he could see clearly that the old man was sitting inside a cave in a rock wall.
“Other than your Masters who else taught you martial arts?” the old man asked again.
“The Nine-fingered Divine Beggar, Benevolent Master Hong …” Guo Jing said.
The old man’s face changed again, it was strange, like he was going to smile but restrained himself.
“Hong Qigong also taught you martial arts?” he interrupted.
“Yes,” replied Guo Jing. “Benevolent Master Hong taught me the ‘Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms’.”
The old man’s face showed happiness and envy at the same time, “You know the ‘Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms’? That martial art is so amazing. How about teaching it to me? I will take you as my master.” But then he shook his head and said, “Won’t do! Won’t do! As the Old Hong’s disciple your energy must not be that strong. Did Old Beggar Hong teach you internal energy?”
“He did not,” Guo Jing answered truthfully.
The old man looked up and thought aloud, “He looks so young. Even if he cultivated his internal energy inside his mother’s womb, it would be at most eighteen or nineteen year’s worth of internal energy. How could he resist the flute sound, while I could not?” He was deep in thought for a moment; then he looked at Guo Jing from top to bottom and again from bottom to top. He stretched out his right palm and said, “Push my palm; I want to test your martial arts.”
Guo Jing complied; he extended his right palm and pushed. The old man said, “Qi’ [internal energy]
in your ‘dan tian’ [lower stomach region] and push hard!” Guo Jing exerted his strength. The old man pulled back his palm slightly then pushed hard while calling out, “Be careful!”
Guo Jing sensed a powerful force pushing him. He could not resist it, so he used his left hand to reinforce his right palm. Surprisingly, old man flipped his palm and pushed Guo Jing’s wrist with four fingers. The power of these fingers was enough to send Guo Jing flying backwards seven or eight steps until his back hit a tree. Only then did Guo Jing manage to stand steady.
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“His martial arts are not bad, but nothing extraordinary either,” the old man muttered, “But how could he resist the Old Heretic Huang’s ‘Jade-Colored Tidal Wave song’ [bi hai chao sheng qu]?”
Guo Jing felt his chest tighten; he was astonished, “This man’s martial arts are about the same level as Shifu’s and Master Huang’s. How could there be an expert of his caliber on Peach Blossom Island? Could it be he is the Western Poison or the Southern Emperor?” As soon as he remembered
‘Western Poison’ his heart turned cold, “Did I fall for his trickery?” Quickly he lifted his palm in the sunlight and checked it. He did not see any inflammation or black marks and was relieved; at least he wasn’t being poisoned.
“Can you guess who I am?” the old man laughed.
“Disciple heard people say that in the martial arts realm there are five experts. The Quanzhen’s founder Venerable Wang has passed away; the disciples have met the ‘Nine-fingered Divine Beggar’ Benevolent Master Hong and the Master of Peach Blossom Island. Could you be the Senior Ouyang or the Emperor Duan?”
“You thought my martial arts are comparable to the Eastern Heretic and Northern Beggar didn’t you?” the old man smiled.
“This disciple’s martial arts are mediocre and my experience modest, I do not dare to speak nonsense. But when Senior pushed me a moment ago, I can say with confidence that other than Benevolent Master Hong and Master Huang, I have never experienced such force,” Guo Jing said.
The old man was delighted with Guo Jing’s praise; his face looked like a child’s happy face. “I am neither the Western Poison Ouyang Feng, nor the Emperor Duan,” he smiled broadly. “Guess again.”
Guo Jing hesitated. “This disciple has met somebody whose name was as well known as Benevolent Master Hong, Qiu Qianren. But that person’s martial arts are just ordinary. Disciple is really not smart, I cannot guess Senior’s honored name,” he said.
That old man laughed heartily, “My surname is Zhou; can you guess now?” he asked.
“Ah, you are Zhou Botong?” Guo Jing blurted. As the words came out of his mouth Guo Jing froze.
Mentioning someone’s name, especially a Senior, could be considered disrespectful. He quickly bowed and apologized, “Disciple has shown disrespect, will Senior Zhou please forgive me.”
he old man laughed, “You are right! I am Zhou Botong. My name is Zhou Botong, and you called me Zhou Botong; when did you show me disrespect? The Quanzhen Sect’s founder, Wang Chongyang, was my martial brother; Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji and the others are my martial nephews. You are not a Quanzhen disciple, you don’t have to call me Senior this or Senior that; just call me Zhou Botong.”
“How would disciple dare?” Guo Jing asked.
Zhou Botong had lived on Peach Blossom Island for a long time; he was bored and now Guo Jing suddenly came along. Talking with him he found relief; he was thrilled. Suddenly a strange thought came into his mind. “Little friend, what do you say you and I become sworn brothers?” he asked.
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No matter how strange his words were, this was the strangest of all. Guo Jing’s jaw dropped and he looked at Zhou Botong in disbelief; he thought Zhou was joking. After a while he opened his mouth, “This disciple is Priest Ma and Priest Qiu’s junior; I should address you as my grand martial master.”
Zhou Botong waved his hands. “My martial arts skill came from my martial brother. Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji and the others do not consider me their senior; they also did not respect me as a senior. You are not my son, I am not yours; we do not have older-younger generation difference.” As he spoke he heard footsteps approaching; an old servant appeared carrying a food basket. Zhou Botong beamed, “Our food is here!”
The servant opened the basket and took out four dishes of food, two pots of wine and a woven basket full of rice. He placed the food in front of Zhou Botong on top of a big rock, poured out two cups of wine and stood silently to one side.
“Where is Miss Huang? Why doesn’t she come looking for me?” Guo Jing asked. That servant shook his head, pointing to his ear and his mouth, signaling that he was deaf and mute.
“Huang Yaoshi punctured his ear drums. You can ask him to open his mouth wide and take a look,”
Zhou Botong chuckled.
Guo Jing made a signal, asking that servant to open his mouth. Guo Jing was startled and frightened; that servant’s tongue had been cut in half.