Chapter 19: The Wager

By now both of them were very exhausted, and each took a spot to sit in repose with their eyes closed, leaning against a big rock. Soon Linghu Chong began to doze off. In the sleep, he suddenly saw Ying-Ying placing three roasted frogs into his hands and asking him, “Have you forgotten me?”

“I have not! I have not! Where…where have you been?” Linghu Chong replied loudly. But all of a sudden, Ying-Ying’s image vanished before his eyes. “Don’t go! I have a lot to tell you,” he shouted hastily. But all he could see now were countless of knives, swords, and various weapons striking toward him one after another. He cried out loudly and then woke up.

“Have you dreamed of your sweetheart and had a lot to tell her?” Xiang Wentian said with a big grin.

Linghu Chong’s face went red. He wasn’t sure what else he had said in his dream that Xiang Wentian might also overheard.

“Brother, if you want to see your lover, you’ll have to recuperate your injury and cure yourself before going looking for her,” Xiang Wentian suggested.

“I…I don’t have a lover. Besides, my injury is incurable,” Linghu Chong replied, his face looking gloomy.

“I owe you a life. Although you are my sworn brother, it still doesn’t feel right, and I simply must repay you with a life. I’ll take you to a place. There, you will be cured,” Xiang Wentian exclaimed.

Linghu Chong had long disregarded his own life, but that was really because he didn’t have a choice after all and had to treat it with indifference. Now when he heard Xiang Wentian saying that his injury was actually curable, a mixed feeling of hope and bliss began swelling in his chest. If these words had come out of someone else’s mouth, he would not have let his hope go up. But Xiang Wentian was a man with extraordinary abilities, and his Kung Fu skills were so amazing that other than Grand Uncle-Master Feng, Linghu Chong had not seen anyone possessing such exceptional skills. Even a casual remark from him could have weighed more than a thousand pounds.

“I…I…,” Linghu Chong murmured but found himself lost in word from the sudden surge of spirit.

By now, the crescent shaped moon had climbed up the opening of the valley and shone over it silently, casting rays of cold light into the bottom of the valley. Although the valley bottom still looked dark and gloomy, in Linghu Chong’s eyes, everything seemed to have brightened up all of a sudden as though it was sunshine everywhere.

“We’ll go see a man. But this man has a very eccentric temperament, so it’s better that we don’t let him know beforehand. Brother, if you trust me, just let me arrange everything,” Xiang Wentian explained.

“What’s there to not trust? Brother Xiang, your trying to cure my injury is just like that old saying, ‘Working on curing a dead horse as though the horse was still alive.’ It was a hopeless thing to start with anyway. If it can be cured, then praise the lord! If it can’t be cured, then it is just the way it should have been.”

Xiang Wentian licked his lips at these words. “I wonder where we dropped that horse leg. God dammit! We killed so many bastards, and there’s not even a single one down here.”

From the expression on Xiang Wentian’s face, Linghu Chong could tell that he must be thinking about finding some corpses for food. Gasping with astonishment, he dared not say another word and closed his eyes to sleep.

The next morning, Xiang Wentian said, “Brother, other than moss and grass, there’s nothing here. If we stay here and drag on like this, we’ve got to find some dead corpses for food. But the ones that fell down the valley yesterday were all old and stringy. I think your won’t have too good of an appetite eating those.”

Xiang Wentian grinned. “Then we’ll have to find a way out of here. Let me change your looks a little bit.”

He scooped some slime from the ground and smeared it onto Linghu Chong’s face. Then he put his hands on his own chins and rubbed. As soon as his inner strength radiated out from his palms, his long beards began falling off completely. Next, he placed his hands on his own head and rubbed, and soon all the gray hair on his head also fell off entirely, turning his head into a shinny, bald head.

Within moments, he had changed his appearance completely. Linghu Chong found it amusing yet amazing. Xiang Wentian scooped some more slime and then made his nose bigger, his chins chubbier. Now even if someone looked at Xiang Wentian carefully face to face, he would still have a difficult time recognizing him.

Xiang Wentian leading the way, they began looking for a way out of the valley. Xiang Wentian put his hands together and hid them in the sleeves, which also covered up the iron chain tied around his wrists. As long as he didn’t draw his hands out, nobody would have been able to recognize that this bald fatty was actually the hale, hearty, and degage Xiang Wentian.

The two of them explored the valley from one side to the other, and by noon, they caught sight of a small, wild peach tree in a small col. Even though the peaches were far from ripe and tasted sour and astringent, they couldn’t care less and each had a stomach full. After resting for about two hours, they resumed their walk. By the time of dusk, Xiang Wentian finally found the right place to get out of the valley, only that they had to climb over a precipice a few hundred feet high. Xiang Wentian carried Linghu Chong on his back and then climbed upward.

After they climbed up the cliff, a small path appeared in front of their eyes, winding through the long grasses covering the wild country land. Although the scenery was bleak, at least they had gotten out of the tight spot where even traces of wild birds or animals were lacking, and both heaved a long sigh of relieve.

The next morning, they traveled east. When they finally arrived at a good-sized town, Xiang Wentian took out a piece of Golden Leaf[1] from his chest pocket and asked Linghu Chong to exchange that into silver at a local money market. When that was all taken care of, they put up at an inn. Xiang Wentian ordered a lavish feast and also asked the servant to bring out a big jar of wine. The two of them both drank to heart’s content until over half jar of the wine had gone. Then without paying any attention to the food on the table, one simply fell asleep at the table while the other one fell into a fuddle and passed out in bed. Not until the next morning when the warm sunshine had covered the full window did they wake up one after another. They exchanged a few grins as they recollected the fierce fight inside the pavilion and on the stone beam, almost feeling as though those events had only happened in their last incarnation.

But Xiang Wentian did not return until over two hours later. Linghu Chong was just starting to worry, fearing that he might have encountered enemies, when Xiang Wentian reappeared with many packages in various sizes in his hands and under his arms. The iron chain that had shackled around his waists also disappeared. He must have asked a blacksmith to chisel it off. Xiang Wentian opened the packages. It turned out each and every one of them contained luxurious garments and apparels.

“We’ll disguise into rich merchants. The more extravagant, the better,” Xiang Wentian explained.

The two of them changed into the brand new clothes from inside out completely. When they walked outside, the inn servant lead two tall horses in bright saddles and bridles to them which apparently Xiang Wentian had also just purchased. They traveled slowly further east on horsebacks. After two days into the journey, Linghu Chong had already felt worn out, so Xiang Wentian hired a horse-drawn wagon for him to ride in. After arriving by the Grand Canal,[2] they simply gave up the idea of traveling by horse and hired a boat, traveling south by water, instead.

Along the journey, Xiang Wentian kept the spending spree, as though he had infinite number of Golden Leaves with him. After they crossed the Yangtze River, more and more markets and shops bustled along both banks of the canal. The apparels Xiang Wentian purchased also turned more and more extravagant. During the long days spent on the boat, Xiang Wentian told many anecdotes and tales of the Martial World, most of which were stories Linghu Chong had never heard of before and brought great gusto out of him. But if there was anything relating the Dark-Wood Cliff or concerning matters of the Demon’s Cult, Xiang Wentian would not mention any word of it, and Linghu Chong would not ask any question, either.

This day, they arrived outside the city of Hangzhou. With extra attention, Xiang Wentian worked on the disguises of Linghu Chong and himself one more time before getting off the boat, then after acquiring two fine horses, they rode into the city of Hangzhou.

The city of Hangzhou, which used to have the name of Lin-An, was the capital city during the Southern-Song Dynasty, and had always been a great place for residence. As soon as they entered the city, they were greeted by boisterous pedestrians crowding the streets shoulder to shoulder while faint music and songs from alleys and courtyards echoing faintly in the background. Linghu Chong followed Xiang Wentian until they had arrived at the bank of the West Lake, and what greeted his eyes were a beautiful slate of blue water reflecting the blue sky like a huge mirror and the many weeping willows stroking the lake surface with their long soft branches. The magnificent beauty of the scenery could have easily made one wonder if he had just stepped in a fairyland.

“I’ve heard many people say: Suzhou and Hangzhou are Heavens on earth. I’ve never been to Suzhou so have no idea about it. Today, after seeing the West Lake with my own eyes, I have to agree that using Heaven on earth to describe its beauty is certainly no exaggeration,” Linghu Chong exclaimed.

Xiang Wentian showed a smile as his reply and then led Linghu Chong to a remote corner, which, with a small hill on one side and a long causeway separating it from the outer lake on the other, seemed even more secluded and peaceful. The two of them dismounted their horses and then after tying the reins to the willow trees by the bank, they ascended the flight of stone steps leading up the small hill. It seemed as though Xiang Wentian had returned to a formerly visited place and was very familiar with the pathways. After several turns, suddenly, there were plum trees everywhere. Aged boughs slanted to the side with dense branches and leaves on the top, making one wonder what a splendid view it would be in the early spring when they were all covered in the countless of beautiful, snow-white plum blossoms.

They walked through the large stretch of plum forest and then followed the main stone slab path. Soon a large manor with a red gate and white walls came into their view. Once they came closer, Linghu Chong could see two large characters, “Plum Manor,” written outside of the gate; and by the side, the words “signed by Yu Yunwen” were inscribed in smaller fonts. Even though Linghu Chong did not have much education and didn’t know that Yu Yunwen was the famous Southern-Song general that had defeated Jin’s invading army, he could still sense the vigorous, heroic spirit behind the elegant and graceful handwriting.

Xiang Wentian stepped forward and grabbed onto the shiny copper ring hanging from the gate. “Leave everything to me,” he turned his head over his shoulder and whispered.

Linghu Chong nodded, thinking to himself, “This Plum Manor obviously is the residence of a very rich family in the city of Hangzhou. Could this have been the home of an exceptional doctor?” Then he heard Xiang Wentian knocking on the gate using the copper ring. He knocked four times at first then paused for a moment before knocking twice again. Then after another short pause, he knocked five times, then another pause before three more knocks. Letting go of the copper ring, Xiang Wentian took a step back and waited.

After a while, the gate opened slowly, and two old men in servant’s clothes walked out abreast. Linghu Chong felt a slight shock at the sight of the two old men. Their eyes shining with sharp stares and their steps steady and firm, apparently both of them had excellent Kung Fu. Why would they allow themselves to be employed to such lowly posts as servants? Linghu Chong couldn’t help but ask himself inwardly.

“May I ask what business has brought you to our humble manor?” the man on the left asked with a slight bow.

“Members of the Songshan School and the Huashan School would like to request an audience with the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan,[3] the four respectful masters,” Xiang Wentian said.

“The Masters of the manor do not wish to receive any guests,” the man replied and made for closing the gate, but Xiang Wentian took something out of his chest pocket and then opened it up.

Linghu Chong felt another shock. Inside Xiang Wentian’s hand was a brocade flag in five colors stubbed with shining pearls and precious gemstones, and in the bight sunlight they twinkled magnificently. Linghu Chong knew that this flag was the Five Mountains Sword Alliance Command Flag of the Songshan School’s Chief Zuo, and wherever the flag showed up, it was as if Chief Zuo had also come, himself, and all members of the Five Mountains Sword Alliance would hold the carrier of the Command Flag to the highest esteem and follow his command strictly.

Linghu Chong faintly felt that this was inappropriate. He was almost sure that Xiang Wentian must have not obtained the flag through proper means. Maybe he had killed some important members of the Songshan School and then had robbed the flag of him, and maybe the flag was the very reason why orthodox school members chased after him. Now he claimed to be a member of the Songshan School, what kind of scheme was he planning to pull? But since Linghu Chong had agreed to let him arrange everything, he had no choice but to maintain his silence and observe by the side.

At the sight of the Command Flag, the two servants’ countenance changed slightly. “The Command Flag of Songshan School’s Chief Zuo?” they muttered together.

“The Four Playfellows of Jiangnan and the Five Mountains Sword Alliance never had the chance to make the acquaintance. Even if Songshan School’s Chief Zuo had come, himself, our Masters wouldn’t necessarily…necessarily…well!” the servant on the right replied. He didn’t finish his sentence, but everyone knew what he meant: “Even if Chief Zuo had come, himself, our Masters wouldn’t necessarily grant an audience just the same.”

Chief Zuo of the Songshan School was, after all, a man of high post and high prestige, and the man did not want to say anything contemptuous. But he apparently considered the status of the “Four Playfellows of the Jiangnan” to be much higher compared to that of the Chief Zuo.

“Who are these ‘Four Playfellows of Jiangnan’? Suppose they really have such prestigious status in the Martial World, why have I never heard Master or Master-Wife mention their names? And when I wondered about the Martial World, I’ve heard people talking about many exceptional senior masters, how come I’ve never heard the name ‘Four Playfellows of Jiangnan’ mentioned before?” Linghu Chong couldn’t help but ponder.

“This Command Flag of My Nephew-Apprentice Zuo was only good for bluffing. The four senior masters of Jiangnan are all prestigious masters. Of course they would think nothing of this small flag….” Xiang Wentian showed a slight grin and put the Command Flag back into his chest pocket.

Linghu Chong thought to himself, “‘Nephew-Apprentice Zuo’? Are you actually pretending to be Chief Zuo’s Uncle-Master? This is really getting out of hands.”

“I’ve never had the privilege of paying a formal visit to the four respectful masters of Jiangnan, I just thought that this Command Flag might be used as a token of verification,” Xiang Wentian continued.

“Oh,” the two servants acknowledged. Hearing how Xiang Wentian had really elevated the position of the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan in his speech, both eased up in the face.

“Yes, I am!” Xiang Wentian let out another grin. “I am only a nobody in the Martial World; naturally you would never have heard about me. But I’ve long heard abut the great feats you have accomplished. Brother Ding, that year at the foot of Mount Qilian, didn’t you single-handedly wipe out the entire band of four tyrants and subdued two prestigious Kung Fu masters with a single swing of your sword? And Brother Shi, didn’t your Eight-Diagram Golden Saber drink the blood of the Green-Dragon Clan’s all thirteen ringleaders on the Han River in Hubei Province just so that you could save the life of an orphan? Such feats are definitely hard to forget.”

The two men in servant’s clothes were named Ding Jian and Shi Lingwei respectively. Before retiring to the Plum Manor, they had been two ruthless figures in the Martial World, chivalrous sometimes and wicked some other times. They had one thing in common: seldom had they revealed their names in the many battles they had fought. Consequently, despite their extraordinary martial art skills few had heard of their names. The two incidents Xiang Wentian just brought up were none other than what they had considered the true masterpiece in their lives. In both cases, their opponents had been elite Kung Fu masters and they had to fight many enemies alone, nevertheless each of them claimed a neat victory. Besides, they had been the chivalrous heroes upholding justice while their opponents were the villains in both incidents, which had been very rare occurrences throughout their lives. Generally when someone performs a good deed, even though he wouldn’t go out of his way to publicize it, he would still feel utterly pleased if others learn about it accidentally. Both Ding and Shi’s faces lit up at Xiang Wentian’s words.

“Such trivial matters really do not worth mentioning. Mister, your knowledge of the Martial World is very impressive,” Ding Jian spoke with a faint smile.

“The Martial World certainly does not lack people who fish for fame and compliment, but lofty gentlemen with genuine abilities and learning that would rather remain anonymous after doing great deeds are very hard to come by,” Xiang Wentian continued. “I’ve always admired the great fame of ‘Straight Line Lightning Sword’ Brother Ding and ‘Wulu God’ Brother Shi. When Nephew-Apprentice Zuo mentioned about consulting the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan in regard to certain matters, I agreed to make the trip to Hangzhou. I figured that even if I might not have the luck to meet the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan, as long as I get to meet the ‘Straight Line Lightning Sword’ and the ‘Wulu God,’ it would have been a worthy trip. Nephew-Apprentice Zuo said that if he had come, himself, he was afraid that the four senior masters might not want to receive him, having an aversion to the undeserved reputation he had attained in recent years. But in my case, since I usually stayed in and kept myself away from Martial World matters, maybe I won’t look too repugnant in their eyes. Ha-ha! Ha-ha!”

Very pleased to hear Xiang Wentian flattering both the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan and the two of them, Ding and Shi also accompanied him with a few laughs. Although the bald fatty looked repulsive in appearance, his speech and demeanor showed great manner and elegance, which convinced Ding and Shi that he was not just any ordinary visitor. And since he was Zuo Lengchan’s Uncle-Master, his Kung Fu skills had to be extraordinary. Ding and Shi felt their respect growing.

By then, Shi Lingwei had decided to report them to the masters of the manor. Turning toward Linghu Chong, he asked, “Is this mister a member of the Huashan School?”

“This is Brother Feng. He is the Uncle-Master of the current Huashan School Headmaster, Yue Buqun,” Xiang Wentian replied swiftly before Linghu Chong had any chance to open his mouth.

From the much nonsense Xiang Wentian had made up, Linghu Chong had guessed that Xiang would vamp up a fake name and identity for him, but he had no idea that Xiang would make him the Uncle-Master of his own Master. Even though Linghu Chong was a man that did not care a rush, pretending to be a senior of his respectful Master made him very uneasy. He couldn’t help but shudder. Luckily his face was covered under a thick layer of yellow powder, which effectively concealed his startled face.

Ding Jian and Shi Lingwei exchanged a suspicious stare, both thinking, “Although we can’t tell this man’s true age, he is most likely under forty. How could he be Yue Buqun’s Uncle-Master?”

Xiang Wentian had made Linghu Chong look much older with the help of the disguise. However, Linghu Chong still looked far from an aged man, and any excessive make up would have given him away completely.

“This Brother Feng here is actually younger than Yue Buqun, but he is the only disciple of apprentice brother Feng Qingyang and the only heir of apprentice brother Feng’s unique sword arts. His skills in sword arts are so exceptional that few in the Huashan Sword School could be his match,” Xiang Wentian explained.

Once again, Linghu Chong found himself astounded. “How would Brother Xiang know that I am the disciple of Grand Uncle-Master Feng?” he pondered and found the answer only a moment later, “With his exceptional sword art skills, Grand Uncle-Master Feng must have had a prestigious fame in the Martial World many years ago. Brother Xiang is a very knowledgeable man. Once he saw the sword arts I used, naturally he was able to deduce the origin of the sword arts. If Great Master Fang-Sheng can recognize it, so can Brother Xiang.”

Ding Jian uttered a cry of surprise. He was an expert in swordsmanship, and upon learning that Linghu Chong was an excellent sword master, he itched for a contest. But the man standing in front of him had such a yellowish, swollen face and a completely wretched look, he had a hard time linking the man to an outstanding master in sword arts.

“My surname is Tong, and my full name is Tong Huajin. This Brother Feng’s first name is Er-Zhong,” Xiang Wentian answered.

“We’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.” Both Ding and Shi cupped their hands in greetings.

Xiang Wentian couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly. The name he made up, “Tong Huajin,” meant copper turning into gold, which, of course, clearly stated that it was fake. And the name “Er-Zhong” simply came from separating the two radicals in the character “Chong.” There was no one in the Martial World with any of those two names, yet the two of them still looked forward to meeting them. Why would they be looking forward to it, much less looking forward to it for a long time already?

“Please come in and have some tea while I report to my Masters. But whether our Masters will see you or not, I won’t promise anything,” Ding Jian said.

“Even though you humbly call yourselves servants of the Manor, you are more like intimate brothers to the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan. I am sure the four senior masters will not go against your suggestions,” Xiang Wentian said with a grin.

Ding Jian returned with a grin, shifting to the side to make way, and Xiang Wentian stepped into the manor, followed closely by Linghu Chong. They walked through a big courtyard following the path, alongside which stood two aged plum trees, one on each side, their limbs extending vigorously in all directions. After entering the reception hall, Shi Lingwei invited the guests to be seated and stood by the side in accompany while Ding Jian went inside to report to the Masters. Seeing that Shi Lingwei stood by the side, Xiang Wentian felt rather irreverent to remain sitting, himself. But Shi was a servant of the Plum Manor, and it would have been inappropriate for him to invite Shi to sit down. And then, he had an idea.

“Brother Feng,” Xiang Wentian said to Linghu Chong, “Look at that painting there. Although it’s made up of only a few simply strokes, it certainly depicts great momentum.” At these words, he stood up and walked in front of the central scroll hung in the middle of the hall.

Having traveled alongside Xiang Wentian for many days, Linghu Chong knew very well that Xiang was not adept at painting and calligraphy despite his resourceful wits. Now when he suddenly began praising the painting, there had to be something more to it. At that thought, he acknowledged with a snort and also walked in front of the painting. The painting contained the drawing of a celestial man’s back. It almost felt as though the ink on the painting was still dripping wet, clearly showing the powerful vigor of each of the strokes. Even though Linghu Chong was no expert in the art of painting, he could still tell that this had to be a true masterpiece. The autograph on the painting read, “Mr. Paint Splashing Paints In a Big Fuddle.” These words were written in a very stern style, as though each brushstroke came from a prod or swing of a long sword.

“Brother Tong, I am very attracted to this word ‘Fuddle’ on the painting. It almost felt as though the painting and the writing contained some kind of very brilliant sword arts,” after staring at the painting for some time, Linghu Chong commented. The brushstrokes in the writing and the gesture of the celestial man seemed to have reminded him of the sword arts carved on the rock wall in the back cave atop the Cliff of Contemplation.

Before Xiang Wentian had a chance to reply, Shi Lingwei had already spoken out, “Mr. Feng is truly an expert in sword arts. Our Fourth Master said: He painted this painting after he became completely inebriated one day and unconsciously included the spirit of sword arts in the artwork. This is the best artwork he had ever created. Once he became sober, he could never paint anything like this again. Mr. Feng can actually make out the spirit of sword arts in the painting. Fourth Master will definitely think of you as a bosom friend. Please allow me to excuse myself so I can report this to him.” Beaming with joy, he went inside.

“Brother Feng, turned out you know the art of painting,” Xiang Wentian cleared his throat and said.

“I don’t know anything about painting. I was just making wild guesses, and happen to hit the target by accident. If this Mr. Paint wants to discuss the art of painting with me, I’ll end up making a fool out of myself,” Linghu Chong replied.

Suddenly a loud voice rose from outside the door, “Did he really, did he really recognize the spirit of sword arts in my painting? He must be a very insightful man. He must be!” Amid the clamor, a man entered the room, holding a wine cup in his left hand, his face tipsy and his long beard almost reaching all the way to his bosom.

Shi Lingwei followed right behind the man. In a hurry, he introduced, “These two guests are Mister Tong from the Songshan School and Mister Feng from the Huashan School. This is the Fourth Master of the Plum Manor, Mr. Paint. Fourth Master, as soon as this Mister Feng saw your Splash-Ink painting, he said that the painting contained brilliant sword arts.”

The Fourth Master, Mr. Paint, glanced at Linghu Chong up and down from the corner of his tipsy eyes. “You know painting? You know sword arts?” he suddenly asked. The two questions sounded very insolent and impolite.

Linghu Chong noticed that the wine cup in his hand was a jade green Emerald Cup; he could also tell from the smell that the wine inside the cup was Pear-Blossom Wine. Suddenly, Zu Qianqiu’s speech on the boat when they traveled in the Yellow River came to his mind.

“Bai Juyi wrote in his poem Spring View of Hangzhou, ‘The red sleeves of the silk weaving girls reflected the persimmon leaves, and the emerald green flag of the wine shop sets off the Pear-Blossom Wine.’ To drink the Pear-Blossom Wine, Emerald Cup would be the natural choice. Fourth Master is truly an expert in the art of wine-drinking.”

Linghu Chong did not have much education and knew little about poetry and literature. But being a very intelligent man, he was gifted with an extraordinarily retentive memory and could recite other people’s words after hearing them over once. So easily, he copied Zu Qianqiu’s exact words over.

Mr. Paint’s eyes became wide open at these words. Suddenly he held Linghu Chong into his arms.

“Good heavens!” he cried out loud, “A bosom friend has arrived. Come! Follow me! Let’s go drink at least three hundred cups. Brother Feng, I am addicted to the art of wine, the art of painting, and the art of sword. People call me Lord of the Three Arts. But among the three arts, the art of wine is at the top of the list. Art of painting is the second and art of sword is the last.”

These words sounded like music in Linghu Chong’s ears. “I know nothing about the art of painting,” he thought to himself, “I’ve come to seek help in healing my injuries. It’s the last thing I want to do to get into a sword fight with them. But drinking, that’s just down my alley. What more could I have asked for?”

Without hesitation, he followed Mr. Paint inside followed by Xiang Wentian and Shi Lingwei. Down a winding corridor, they came to a room to the west, and as soon as the portiere was lifted, a strong fragrance of wine assailed their nostrils.

Linghu Chong had been fond of drinking since childhood. Only because his Master and Master-Wife hadn’t given him much pocket money, he had not the luxury to distinguish the good from the bad and simply drank whatever he could get. Not until he listened to Elder Bamboo-Green discussing the art of drinking in detail in the city of Luoyang, and was shown the many kinds of great wines, was he able to appreciate quality wines and the art of drinking. Firstly, this was congenial for him; secondly, he had a good teacher to give him directions. So as soon the scent of wine hit his nostrils, he praised.

“Wow! I smell the scent of aged High Grade Fen-Wine. Hmm, the Hundred-Grass Wine probably is around seventy-five years old. And that Monkey Wine is even harder to come by.”

As soon as he recognized the aroma of the Monkey Wine, he instantly remembered Lu Dayou, his sixth apprentice brother, and sorrow swelled in his heart.

“Excellent! Excellent! Brother Feng, as soon as you stepped into my wine room, you have already recognized the best three brews in my collection. You are really an expert! Amazing! Amazing indeed!” Mr. Paint clapped his hands with a big smile blossoming on his face.

Linghu Chong glanced around the room. What met his eyes where wine jars, wine bottles, wine calabashes, and wine cups everywhere.

“I really doubt Senior Master’s collection stops at the three great brews I’ve just mentioned. The Shaoxing-Red Wine is definitely first-class, and the Grape-Wine from the Western Region city Turfan,[4] which requires four cycles of distillation and ferments, is second to none in the entire world.”

“My Turfan four cycles of distillation and ferments Grape-Wine is still sealed off in the wooden barrel. How could you have sniffed it out?” Mr. Paint uttered, half shocked and half pleased.

“Come on! With such quality wine, even if you hide it in a cellar twenty feet below ground, the sweet scent would still make it all the way here,” Linghu Chong said with a grin.

“Right on! Let’s drink this four cycles distillation and ferments Grape-Wine, then!” Mr. Paint shouted.

Soon, he took out a big barrel from a corner of the room. The barrel had begun to turn black from its old age and was covered with wriggling Western Region scripts. The wooden stopper was sealed off by sealing wax, which carried the sign of a solemn looking stamp. Mr. Paint held the wooden stopper and gave it a gentle pull. All of a sudden, the room was filled with the scent of great wine. Shi Lingwei was a man who never touched alcohol, and at the strong smell from the wine, he immediately felt tipsy. Mr. Paint waved him off with a grin.

Placing three wine cups in a row, he picked the barrel up and poured the wine toward the wine cups. The wine’s color was dark red and almost looked like blood. When the cups were full, the top of the liquid was actually slightly higher than the edge of the cup, yet not a drop spilled out.

“This man has extraordinary Kung Fu skills,” Linghu Chong couldn’t help but cheer inwardly. “Holding the over one-hundred pounds big barrel in his arms and pouring wine into the small wine cups, he was still able to fill the cups perfectly to their capacities. That is no easy task.”

“Cheers! Cheers!” Holding the wooden barrel under his right arm, he raised his wine cup with his left hand and stared at Linghu Chong’s face with unblinking eyes, waiting to see his reaction after he tasted the wine.

Linghu Chong raised his own cup and then drank half of its content down his throat, smacking his lips as he tasted the flavor, his eyes closed. But because of the thick layer of powder on his face, the only express on his face was indifference, as though he didn’t quite like the taste. Mr. Paint’s face, on the other hand, had anxiety written all over it, as if he was afraid that this expert in wine-appreciation would only rate his wine mediocre.

After a long while, Linghu Chong finally opened his eyes. “Very strange! Very strange indeed!” he muttered.

“Well, this is so confusing. This is really beyond me,” Linghu Chong answered.

“I’ve only had the fortune to taste this wine once before, and that was in the city of Luoyang. Even though the wine was utterly mellow and pure, one could still feel the slight sourness in its flavor. According to a grandmaster in the art of wine, that was because of the bumping and jolting along the transportation route. With the four cycles distillation and ferments Turfan Grape-Wine, the more you move it, the more of the excellence will be impaired. There are many thousands of miles between Turfan and Hangzhou, but Senior Master’s wine doesn’t even have the slightest sourness in its flavor. Well….”

“This is my utmost secret. I had to use three sword moves in exchange for the secret recipe from Moore Watson, the Western Region Swordsman. Do you want to hear it?”

“I am already perfectly satisfied for the chance to enjoy such wonderful wine. I certainly dare not to ask about Senior Master’s secret recipe.” Linghu Chong shook his head.

“Let’s drink! Let’s drink!” Mr. Paint filled the three wine cups once again. Linghu Chong’s no desire for the secret recipe actually made his heart itch more. He couldn’t help but mutter, “Actually the recipe is not worth a dime. It’s amazingly simply, you know.”

Linghu Chong knew that the less he desired to hear the secret, the more Mr. Paint would want to share it. So he shook his hands hurriedly.

“Senior Master, please, please don’t speak the secret out. I can imagine that the three sword moves you gave out must have been no small matter. If I take away your secret recipe, which you had to pay a great price in exchange, so easily, I’ll never feel right about it. It is well said that there’s no receiving a reward without making a merit….”

“Didn’t you drink with me? Didn’t you recognize the origin of the wine? That’s plenty of merit already. You must listen to the secret recipe,” Mr. Paint insisted.

“I feel great gratitude that Senior Master is willing to grant me an audience and bestow on me your most valuable wine collection. How could I…?”

“This is Fourth Master’s goodwill. Brother Feng, you need not decline,” Xiang Wentian also chimed in.

“Exactly! Exactly!” Mr. Paint concurred. “Let me ask you. Can you tell how old the wine is?” he asked with all smiles.

Linghu Chong drank up his wine and tasted it carefully. After a long while he spoke again.

“There is another thing strange about this wine. It tastes like it’s one hundred and twenty years old, yet it also tastes as though it is only twelve or thirteen years old. There’s old flavor in the recent taste and there’s also new flavor in the old taste. Comparing to normal, over one hundred years old wine, it seems to have a unique essence.”

Xiang Wentian knitted his brows slightly as he thought to himself, “Now he has really made a fool of himself. There’s over one hundred years difference between one hundred and twenty years and twelve or thirteen years. How could they be mentioned in the same breath?”

He was afraid that Mr. Paint would be displeased to hear these words, but quite to the contrary, the old fellow Mr. Paint broke into loud laughter, his long beard fluttering back and forth.

“Good brother! You are as sharp as a razor. That’s exactly where the secret lies. Let me tell you. That Western Region Swordsman, Moore Watson, gave me ten barrels of one hundred and twenty years old Turfan Grape Wine that had gone through three cycles of distillation and ferments and had five fine horses carry them all the way to Hangzhou. And then I went through the fourth cycle of distillation and ferments and brewed one barrel of fine wine using the ten barrels Grape Wine. If we count the days, that was exactly twelve and a half years ago. That’s why the Grape Wine didn’t go sour after such a long journey and why there’s old flavor in the recent taste and new flavor in the old taste.”

“That’s why!” Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong both put their hands together.

“Even if you were to use ten sword moves in exchange for the secret of making such wonderful wine, it would have been worth it. And you only had to use three moves. What a steal!” Linghu Chong added.

Mr. Paint was even more pleased. “Little brother, you really understand me well. At that time, both Big Brother and Third Brother grumbled about it and complained that by exchanging sword moves for wine brewing technique, I had let the secret of our Central Region unique skills into the Western Region. And even though Second Brother only smiled without saying anything, I bet he didn’t approve it in his mind, either. Only you, little brother, understand that I’ve made a kill in this deal. Lets have a toast for that!”

Seeing that Xiang Wentian obviously didn’t know anything about the art of drinking, he paid no more attention to him.

“Fourth Master, there’s actually another way to enjoy this wine. Too bad we won’t be able to at this moment,” Linghu Chong said after drinking up another cup of wine.

“Turfan is the hottest place in the world. I heard that when Great Master Xuan-Zang[5] journeyed to India to retrieve the true Buddhist Scriptures, he went by the Mountain of Blaze, which is exactly where Turfan is located,” Linghu Chong explained.

“Yes. That place is very hot, indeed. In the summertime, even after you immerse yourself in a bucket of cold water, you’d still feel the unbearable heat. And in the wintertime, it’ll freeze you to the bone. But just because of that, the grapes they produce there are out of the ordinary,” Mr. Paint remarked.

“When I tasted this wine in the city of Luoyang, it was still very cold. That grandmaster in the art of drinking brought out a big piece of ice and then set the wine cups on top of the ice. Once the wine was iced, it had a different kind of taste. It is already in the early summer now, that’s why I said we wouldn’t be able to taste it that way,” Linghu Chong said.

“When I was in the Western Region, unfortunately it was in the summertime also. Moore Watson also mentioned about the wonderful taste of Iced Grape Wine. Little brother, that’s easy. All you have to do is to stay in our Plum Manor for another half a year. Then when it is in the winter, we can taste the wine together,” Mr. Paint suggested. After a short pause, he went on, his eyebrows slightly knitted, “But we’ll have to wait for such a long time. What a torment!”

“It’s a pity that there’s no one here in Jiangnan who specializes in ‘Icy Palm’ or ‘Cold-Wind Claw’ the kind of Kung Fu that focuses on the negative principles, or else…,” Xiang Wentian joined in.

“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” before Xiang Wentian even finished his sentence, Mr. Paint had shouted out cheerfully. Setting the wine barrel down to the floor, he walked out of the room excitedly.

Linghu Chong cast a glance at Xiang Wentian with a stomach full of questions, but Xiang Wentian only grinned back in silence.

Not long after, Mr. Paint had returned, dragging a very tall and very thin, old man in black robe behind him.

“Second Brother, you’ve got to do me a favor this time no matter what,” he pleaded.

Linghu Chong looked at the man. What he saw was a man with delicate features, only that his face looked unnaturally white as though the face of a corpse, which would send a chill down one’s spine at the sight of it. After Mr. Paint introduced him, Linghu Chong learned that the old man was the Second Master of the Plum Manor, Mr. Black-White. His hair looked extremely black while his skin looked extremely white. They were certainly in sharp contrast.

“To demonstrate your Turning-Water-Into-Ice Kung Fu to these two good friends of mine,” Mr. Paint said.

“That’s just an insignificant skill not even worth mentioning. It would only make the true experts laugh,” Mr. Black-White said coldly, rolling his black eyeballs around the white of the eye as he spoke.

“Second Brother, to tell you the truth, this Brother Feng, here, said that if we ice the Turfan Grape Wine, it would have an interesting taste. But where the heck can I find ice in the middle of the summer?” Mr. Paint confessed.

“The wine is already very mellow and savory. There’s no need to ice it,” Mr. Black-White replied.

“’Although the grapes produced there are excellent, inevitably, they also carried some of the summer heat,” Linghu Chong went on.

“The summer heat was then brewed into the wine. Though after one hundred years, the effect had reduced dramatically, the little bit of bitter is simply inevitable, after all,” Linghu Chong concluded.

“Totally! Totally! If you had not mentioned it, I would have thought that it was because the flame was too high at the time of the distillation. I’ve really blamed that royal cook wrongly,” Mr. Paint said.

“Well, I was afraid to spoil the ten barrels of great wine with incorrect degree of heating at the time of the distillation, so I made a special trip to the imperial palace in Beijing and grabbed the royal cook to come back with me so he could make the fire and brew the wine for me.” Mr. Paint grinned.

“I see,” Xiang Wentian cut in the conversation. “If it were for just ordinary ones, it wouldn’t matter much for them to have the bitterness in their drink. But Second Master and Fourth Master are lofty hermits that retreated to the lakeside of the scenic West Lake, completely different from the rough fellows in the Martial World. Once the wine is iced and rid of the roughness, then it would match perfectly with the status of the two lofty masters. It is just like the gamesmanship in the game of Go.[6] Combating with shear strength would only fall into the ninth grade of gamesmanship while masters in the first or second grade of gamesmanship would seek a contest of spirit and understanding….”

“You know the game of Go?” rolling his queer eyes once again, Mr. Black-White suddenly grabbed at Xiang Wentian’s shoulder and asked eagerly.

“The game of Go is the favorite in my life. Unfortunately my skills are just ordinary. So I traveled all over the country in pursuit of Go manuals. Throughout the past thirty years, I’ve managed to memorize quite a few of the famous games of all ages,” Xiang Wentian replied.

“For example: The game Wang Zhi watched when he encountered celestial beings on Mount Decayed Helve,[7] the game Liu Zhongpu played against the Fairy Granny on Mount Li,[8] and the game Wang Jixin heard between the mother and the daughter-in-law fairy foxes[9]….”

Before he even finished, Mr. Black-White had begun shaking his head in disappointment. “Those are only myths. How can they be credible? And how could there be real game manuals from those myth stories?” At that word, he let go of Xiang Wentian’s shoulder.

“Well, at first, I also thought these were just stories made up by busybodies, but twenty-five years ago when I saw the game manual for the game between Liu Zhongpu and the Fairy Granny of Mount Li with my own eyes and realized how pointed and profound each move was, nothing an ordinary person could have made up, that was when I believed whole heartedly that the myth story was real. Is Senior Master also fond of this game?”

Mr. Paint suddenly burst into an uncontrolled laugh, his long beard fluttered about once again.

“Didn’t you ask my Second Brother if he is fond of the game of Go? Ha-ha-ha! My Second Brother’s name is Mr. Black-White. You tell me if he likes the game or not. They way Second Brother loves the game of Go is just like how I love the art of drinking,” Mr. Paint said in amusement.

“Good heavens! Second Master, please excuse my random talk. That’s like displaying one’s slight skill before an expert,” Xiang Wentian said hurriedly.

“Did you really see the game manual for the game between Liu Zhongpu and the Fairy Granny of Mount Li?” Mr. Black-White asked. “I’ve seen recordings from ancient journals about this story. It said that Liu Zhongpu was the national champion at the time, but he lost miserably to a countryside granny at the foot of Mount Li and spat out several liters of blood from the frustration. That’s why this famous game manual was named the ‘Blood-Spitting Manual.’ Could this ‘Blood-Spitting Manual’ really exist in this world?”

When he first entered the room, his face had looked completely indifferent, but now it was covered with excitement.

“Twenty-Five years ago, I had the chance of reading it in the old residence of a well-known family in Chengdu, Szechwan. Because it was such a stunning battle, even after twenty-five years, I could still remember every single one of the entire one hundred and twelve moves,” Xiang Wentian elaborated.

“There are a total of one hundred and twelve moves? Why don’t you show it to me? Come on, let’s go to my game room to set it up,” Mr. Black-White proposed anxiously.

“Hold it! Second Brother, if you don’t make ice for me, see if I’ll ever let you leave,” he said as he took out a white china basin filled with clear water.

“Alas, each of the four brothers has his own ‘thing’ to be crazy about. It’s hopeless,” Mr. Black-White sighed.

He stretched out his right hand and inserted his index finger into the water. Only a short moment later, faint traces of white mist began rising from the water surface, and soon, hoar frost began forming along the edges of the basin. Before long, a thin layer of ice appeared at the water surface. The ice grew thicker and thicker and only minutes later, the water inside the basin had all turned into cold ice. Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong both cheered loudly.

“I heard that the ‘Violent Wind Finger’ Kung Fu had been long lost in the Martial World. Who would have thought that the Second Master…?” Xiang Wentian said.

“This is not the ‘Violent Wind Finger.’ This is called the ‘Profound Heavenly Finger,’ which is a much more advanced Kung Fu in comparison with the truculent ‘Violent Wind Finger’ Kung Fu,” Mr. Paint clarified promptly. Without any delay, he had placed four wine cups on top of the ice as he spoke and filled them with Grape Wine. Shortly afterwards, traces of white mist began rising from the surface of the wine.

Picking up a wine cup, Mr. Paint tossed the wine down, and sure enough, the wine tasted thick and mellow and there was not a trace of bitterness. In addition, a taste of cool and refreshing was also added to the wine and made it even more delicious. He couldn’t help but praise.

“How marvelous! Now I did a great job brewing the wine; Brother Feng did a great job explained it; Second brother did a great job made the ice. Well, what about you? Hmm….” He grinned at Xiang Wentian. “You did a great job stooging alongside.”

Mr. Black-White drank up his wine casually, didn’t even pay any attention to the flavor of it. Grabbing Xiang Wentian’s arm, he pulled.

“Come on! Come on! Show me how Liu Zhongpu’s ‘Blood-Spitting Manual’ looks like.”

Xiang Wentian gave Linghu Chong’s sleeve a gentle pull, and Linghu Chong immediately understood. “I’d like to go take a look, myself.” he said.

“I bet you there’s nothing interesting about it. Why don’t you and I stay here and enjoy our wine?” Mr. Paint suggested.

“We can watch the game and enjoy our wine at the same time,” Linghu Chong replied and began walking following behind Mr. Black-White and Xiang Wentian.

Mr. Paint had no choice but follow them into the game room, holding the big wine barrel under the arm.

The game room was a very spacious room, but other than a stone table and two soft chairs in the middle of the room it was completely empty. The top of the stone table had been carved into a game board with a grid of nineteen vertical and nineteen horizontal lines. On the two ends of the checkerboard sat two baskets, one filled with black game pieces and one with white ones. Apparently having no other articles in the room except the table, the chairs and the game pieces was to minimize distractions for the players.

Xiang Wentian walked to the stone table and then placed one game piece on each of the “star” points on the four corners of the game board. Next, he set a white game piece on the six-three intersection, then a black game piece on the nine-three intersection, a white game piece on the six-five intersection, a black game piece on the nine-five intersection. He went on and on and placed one game piece after another onto the game board, gradually slowing down as he went.

The black side and the white side began a fierce dogfight from the very beginning of the game, and neither side had even one poor move. Mr. Black-White looked at the game board with fixed stares and soon sweat streamed down his forehead.

Linghu Chong found himself baffled by the scene. He had witnessed how Mr. Black-White turned water into ice with his “Profound Heavenly Finger” Kung Fu, which would have required extraordinary inner energy cultivation, but he didn’t even break a sweat; playing Go game was only an unorthodox school,[10] yet he was sweating profusely just watching a game. When one had great concern about something, he would more likely to lose his rational. This man was crazy about the game of Go, and Xiang Wentian most probably had picked this weakness of his intentionally as a breakthrough.

Sure enough, when Mr. Black-White noticed that Xiang Wentian hadn’t put any game piece down a long while after he showed the sixty-sixth move, he turned impatient.

“That is a key step of the game. Where do you think the next game piece should be at?” Xiang Wentian grinned.

Mr. Black-White pondered upon the question for quite a while and finally muttered, “Well, where do I want to put this one? A Tsuke move would be inappropriate; a Dame move would not be right; a Sagari move wouldn’t make it through; to make two eyes seems impossible.[11] Well…well…well….”

Holding a white game piece with his index finger and middle finger, he rapped on the stone table with it, but after almost half an hour, he was still unable to decide where on the game board to put this game piece. By then Mr. Paint and Linghu Chong had each drank up seventeen or eighteen cups of wine, already.

“Brother Tong, isn’t this the ‘Blood-Spitting Manual?’ Do you really want my Second Brother to spit up blood because of it? Whatever the next step is, why don’t you just tell us what it is straightforward?” noticing that Mr. Black-White’s face began turning livid, Mr. Paint proposed.

“Alright! The sixty-seventh move should be right here,” Xiang Wentian replied as he placed a game piece at the seven-four intersection.

“Splendid!” Mr. Black-White called out as he smacked his thigh with excitement. “To place the game piece there is a brilliant move, indeed.”

“Liu Zhongpu’s this move is, of course, a brilliant move. But it’s only a clever move from a mortal champion. When compared to the divine move from the Mount Li Fairy Granny, it is far inferior,” Xiang Wentian said with a smile.

“What about the divine move from the Mount Li Fairy Granny?” Mr. Black-White inquired eagerly.

Mr. Black-White pondered upon it deeply but could only conclude that this was destined to be a losing battle, and it would have been impossible to turn the tide. So he shook his head.

“Since it’s a divine move, how can any one of us mortals figure it out? Brother Tong, there’s no need to sell the climax.”

“This move contained wonderful foresight. It really takes an immortal to figure it out,” Xiang Wentian grinned again.

Mr. Black-White was an expert in gamesmanship, thus also became very proficient in reading an opponent’s minds. Since Xiang Wentian wouldn’t just speak out the game manual frankly, which made his heart itchier by the second, he reckoned that Xiang must had something he wanted in return.

“Brother Tong, if you tell me this game manual, I assure you that you won’t be disappointed.”

Linghu Chong thought to himself, “Is it possible that Brother Xiang knew this Second Master’s ‘Profound Heavenly Finger’ Kung Fu can cure my injuries, that’s why he went around in such a big circle for the request?”

“Brother Feng and I have nothing to request of the four Masters of the Manor. Second Master’s words have really put us two down,” Xiang Wentian raised his head and said.

“I beg your pardon for my discreet remark.” Mr. Black-White bowed deeply. Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong also bowed in return.

“The two of us came to the Plum Manor because we’d like to make a wager with the four Masters,” Xiang Wentian said.

“”Make a wager? What kind of wager?” Mr. Black-White and Mr. Paint asked in unison.

“I want to make a wager that no one in the Plum Manor can beat Brother Feng here in sword arts,” Xiang Wentian answered.

At those words, Mr. Black and Mr. Paint both turned to look at Linghu Chong. Mr. Black-White’s face looked apathetic and with no sign of approval or disapproval. Mr. Paint, on the other hand, broke into a loud laugh.

“If we lose, I’ll give this painting to Fourth Master,” Xiang Wentian replied as he untied the package on his back and opened it, inside which were two scrolls.

Xiang Wentian opened one of the scrolls and a very antiquated painting appeared in front of everyone’s eyes. At the upper right corner of the painting the autograph read, “Traveler in Mount Brook, Painted by Fan Zhongli of the Northern Song.”[12] In the painting, a towering mountain shot up to the sky, steep and magnificent, well illustrated with the thick ink style. Even though Linghu Chong had little knowledge about painting, he could still tell that this scenery painting was an excellent piece of art. The awe-inspiring mountain stood tall and upright. Although it was only a picture on the canvas, one still couldn’t help but feel the admiration soaring in his heart.

“Holy cow!” Mr. Paint cried out. Fixing his eyes upon the painting, he could no longer look away. After a good while he finally spoke again, “This is the authentic work of Fan Kuan in the Northern Song era. Where…where did you get it?”

Xiang Wentian smiled but did not answer. Slowly, he began rolling the painting into a scroll.

He reached out and pulled Xiang Wentian’s arm, trying to stop Xiang from rolling the painting. But as soon as his hand touched Xiang’s arm, a stream of soft yet vigorous inner energy shot out of Xiang’s arm and gently pushed his palm away. Xiang Wentian looked as though he had no idea about what had just happened and slowly rolled the painting back into a scroll. Mr. Paint was amazed. When he had pulled Xiang Wentian’s arm just now, he had not really put much strength into the pull, afraid that he might damage the painting. But the inner energy push from Xiang’s arm clearly showed very advanced inner energy cultivation. Moreover, apparently Xiang had not used his inner energy to the full extent. He felt his admiration growing inwardly.

“Old Tong, turned out your Kung Fu is so excellent! It’s probably on par with mine,” he praised.

“Fourth Master must be joking! Aside from the skills in sword arts, the four masters of the Plum Manor are invincible in any other kind of Kung Fu. I, Tong Huajin, am just a nobody. How could I ever be compared to the Fourth Master?” Xiang Wentian replied.

“Why did you say ‘aside from the skills in sword arts’? Are you so sure that my swordsmanship is not up to his?” Mr. Paint pulled a long face.

“Two Masters, what do you think of this work of calligraphy?” Xiang Wentian let out a slight smile and then unrolled the other scroll, which turned out to be a piece of Crazy Grass[13] style calligraphy with extremely cursive scripts.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Mr. Paint cried out in surprise. After the three “oh” he suddenly shouted out at the top of his lungs, “Third Brother! Third Brother! The treasure of your life is here!”

The shout was so loud and explosive that even the walls, the windows and the door jolted while dusts on top of the rafters and beams on the ceiling began falling. Additionally, the shout was so sudden that Linghu Chong was completed astounded.

“If you don’t hurry up to take a look, once they put it away, you are gonna regret it for the rest of your life!” Mr. Paint shouted.

“You’ve found another counterfeit calligraphy work, haven’t you?” the man outside replied.

The portiere was raised and a man stepped into the room. This was a short and stout man, the top of his head completely bald without a single hair, which shined profusely under the light as though it had been polished. There was a big brush in his right hand and there were ink marks all over his robe. He walked closer to take a look at the calligraphy work, and suddenly, his eyes became wide open and he began breathing heavily.

“This…this is authentic! It really…really…is the ‘Willful Book’ by Zhang Xu of the Tang Dynasty. It can’t…can’t…can’t be fake!” he muttered, his voice trembling.

The strokes of the Grass Style writing on the paper appeared unrestrained and extensive, as though a Kung Fu master was performing the martial arts of Qing-Gong, leaping up sometimes and bending low some other times, swift in the movement, yet exquisite in the poise.

Out of each ten characters, Linghu Chong could only recognize one at his best. But the many stamps of seals and postscripts at the bottom of the calligraphy book easily convinced him that this calligraphy artwork was no trivial matter.

“This is my third brother Mr. Bald-Brush,” Mr. Paint introduced. “He picked this name because calligraphy is his ultimate passion and thousands of writing brushes had turned bald in his hands from practicing. It is not because he is baldheaded. Please don’t confuse one with the other.”

Reaching out with his right index finger, the man named Mr. Bald-Brush stared at the “Willful Book” and began writing in the air following the ticks and strokes in the calligraphy work, his mind completely imbedded in his own world. Not only didn’t he cast a single glance toward Xiang Wentian or Linghu Chong, apparently he didn’t even hear a word from Mr. Paint’s introduction.

Suddenly, Linghu Chong felt a shock in his heart. “Brother Xiang must have planned this way beforehand. When I first met him in the roadside pavilion, he was already carrying this package behind his back,” he thought to himself. But then he had a second though. “At that time, the package did not necessarily contain those two scrolls. Maybe, along our journey, in order to get the four Masters of the Plum Manor to treat my injury, he went outside and bought them, or even stole or snatched them, when I was resting in the inn. Hmm, he most likely stole them. Where can he find such invaluable artwork for sale anywhere?”

He could hear the slight sound made by strong energy force tearing through air when that Mr. Bald-Brush wrote in the air with his finger. The powerful internal strength shown was in par with that of Mr. Black-White. “My internal injury was caused by the Peach Valley’s Six Fairies and Great Master No Commandment,” he thought. “It seems that the internal strength cultivation of the three Plum Manor Masters is no less than that of the Peach Valley’s Six Fairies and Great Master No Commandment. The first Plum Manor Master might be even more powerful. Together with Brother Xiang, all five of them working together, they perhaps can heal my injury. I certainly hope it would not cost them great inner energy exhaustion.”

Xiang Wentian did not wait for Mr. Bald-Brush to finish. He quickly rolled the “Willful Book” back into a scroll and put it back into the package.

Mr. Bald-Brush stared at Xiang Wentian in great disbelief. After a long while, he finally said, “What do you want in exchange?”

“How about the twenty-eight moves of Stone-Drum[14] Acupoint-Hitting Brush Kung Fu?” Mr. Bald-Brush proposed.

“Yes! Why not? If I could use it in exchange for this genuine Crazy Grass work of Zhang Xu, why should I feel pity for losing my Stone-Drum Acupoint-Hitting Brush Kung Fu?” Mr. Bald-Brush disagreed.

“Well, my mistake then. Third Master, just pretend you have never seen it before,” Xiang Wentian answered.

“But I have seen it. How can I just pretend I have never seen it?” Mr. Bald-Brush rejected.

“If Third Master really wants to acquire this genuine work of Zhang Xu, it’s not difficult at all. All you have to do is to accept our wager,” Xiang Wentian said.

“Third Brother,” Mr. Paint cut in, “this mister here is a little bit out of his mind. He wants to make a wager that no one in our Plum Manor could beat the sword arts of this friend Feng from the Huashan School.”

“What if someone could beat his sword arts? What then?” Mr. Bald-Brush asked.

“If someone in the Plum Manor, regardless of whom, can beat my Brother Feng’s long sword, then I’ll give this genuine ‘Willful Book’ of Zhang Xu away to the Third Master for free, and leave that authentic painting by Fan Kuan, ‘Traveler in Mount Brook’, to Fourth Master as a gift. I’ll also write down the twenty famous Go games played by fairies, ghosts, and immortals that I’ve memorized and give them to the Second Master,” Xiang Wentian explained.

“How about our Big Brother? What are you giving to him?” Mr. Bald-Brush asked.

“I have this music score of the ‘Guang-Ling Song’. Maybe the First Master….”

“Guang-Ling Song?” the three Masters of the Plum Manor cried out all together before Xiang Wentian even finished his sentence.

Linghu Chong also felt a shock. “Wasn’t it Elder Qu who found the ‘Guang-Ling Song’ music score after digging through numerous ancient tombs and composed it into the ‘Smiling Proud Wanderer’ song? Where did Brother Xiang get it?” he couldn’t help but ponder. Then he realized, “Brother Xiang was the Right Counselor of the Demon’s Cult, and Elder Qu was an Elder of the Demon’s Cult. They were probably on friendly terms with each other. And when Elder Qu got hold of this music score, in the great joy, he of course would tell Brother Xiang about it. If Brother Xiang had wanted to borrow it and make a copy, Elder Qu, for sure, wouldn’t have any problem with it.” At the thought that the music score was still present while the founder had perished, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

“Ever since Ji Kang died, the ‘Guang-Ling Song’ had been lost forever. Brother Tong, aren’t these words of yours a bit deceitful?” Mr. Bald-Brush shook his head in disbelief.

“I have an intimate friend, who is obsessed with zither music. He said that everybody believes that after Ji Kang died, there is no more ‘Guang-Ling Song’ under the sun. Undoubtedly, this music score had fallen into oblivion after the Western Jin Dynasty, but what about before the Western Jin Dynasty?” Xiang Wentian grinned.

Mr. Bald-Brush and the other two Masters glanced at each other blankly; none could understand what Xiang Wentian’s words meant.

“This friend of mine possesses extraordinary mentalities. Furthermore, he is not the kind who shies from committing all kinds of outrages. So he began excavating in famous Pre-Jin Dynasty zither players’ tombs. A willful man will have his way. After digging through dozens of ancient tombs, he finally found the music score manuscripts in the tomb of Cai Yi, the famous musician of the Eastern Han Dynasty.”

Both Mr. Bald-Brush and Mr. Paint let out a slight cry of surprise. Mr. Black-White nodded slowly and exclaimed, “Intelligent and courageous! Extraordinary!”

Xiang Wentian opened his package and then took out a booklet with the words “Guang-Ling Song Music Score” written on the cover. He turned a few pages through it casually. Sure enough, it had music notes recorded in it.

“Brother Feng,” Xiang Wentian said after he handed the booklet to Linghu Chong, “if anyone in the Plum Manor beats your sword arts, please give this music score to the First Master of the Plum Manor.”

Linghu Chong took the booklet and placed it into his chest pocket. “This could have been Elder Qu’s relic. Since Elder Qu has passed away, what’s so difficult if Brother Xiang wanted to pick out the music score, himself?” he thought to himself.

“Brother Feng, here, is well accomplished in the art of wine; his sword skills must be just as excellent. But he is only a young man; it’s hardly possible that within our Plum Manor…ha-ha, isn’t that a bit ridiculous?” Mr. Paint grinned.

“If it is true that no one within our Plum Manor can overcome young hero Feng, what do we lose?” Mr. Black-White asked.

Although Linghu Chong had the agreement with Xiang Wentian beforehand that he would let Xiang arrange everything, he didn’t expect things to turn out this way and felt that Xiang Wentian had gone a bit too far. Weren’t they here to ask for a healing treatment? How could they be so arrogant and belittling the hosts so much? Besides, he had lost all his inner strength. How could he be a match for these very capable masters of the Plum Manor? At that thought, he opened his mouth.

“Brother Tong always likes to make jokes. How dare I, an insignificant junior who lags greatly behind in the understanding of martial arts, deliberate sword arts and exchange moves with the Masters of the Plum Manor?”

“These polite remarks are, of course, necessary; otherwise people would have called you a conceited swordsman,” Xiang Wentian said.

Mr. Bald-Brush didn’t seem to have heard any of these words, instead, he muttered, “‘Three drinks turns Zhang Xu into Sage of Grass; baring his head before nobility he showed no class; wielding his writing brush he pours clouds onto papers in a blast.’ Second Brother, Zhang Xu was known as the Sage of Grass, the ultimate master in Grass Style calligraphy. This is how Du Fu wrote about him in the poem ‘Eight Drinking Saints Song’. He was also one of the ‘Eight Drinking Saints’. Just by looking at the ‘Willful Book’ you can probably imagine how he waved his writing brush about after drinking to his heart’s content. Well, it is so powerful and unstrained like a heavenly steed soaring across the skies. Just Brilliant! Just Brilliant!”

“Yep! If he likes to drink, then he must be an awesome guy, and of course the stuff he writes can’t be bad at all,” Mr. Paint agreed.

“Han Yu[15] also wrote about Zhang Xu in his poem: ‘Joy, anger, shame, or uneasiness; depression, sorrow, happiness, or leisure; hatred or aspiration. Inebriated and tipsy, when discontent is felt in the heart, he let it flow through his writing brush in Grass Style.’ This mister and we are just of the same kind. When discontent is felt in the heart, let it flow in writing the Grass Style, as if with a flick of the sword, happy we become!” Mr. Bald-Brush continued. Raising his finger once again, he began writing in the air. After a few strokes, he said to Xiang Wentian, “Hey, come on, let me take another look.”

Xiang Wentian shook his head. “Once Third Master wins the contest, this calligraphy book would have become yours. There is no need to be impatient.” He grinned.

Mr. Black-White was an export in gamesmanship and always had careful consideration of the overall situation. Before thinking about winning, he was already considering the consequences of a defeat.

“If on one within the Plum Manor could defeat Brother Feng’s sword arts, what kind of stakes would we be losing?” he inquired again.

“We have come to the Plum Manor with no intent for any favor or any item. All Brother Feng wants is to come to the ultimate summit of world martial arts and have the opportunity to exchange the understandings of sword arts with the best martial artists in this world. If, with any luck, we end up winning the contest, we’ll turn around and leave right away without asking for any stake from you,” Xiang Wentian answered.

“I see. This Hero Feng has come for fame. Defeating the ‘Four Playfellows of Jiangnan’ in succession will, indeed, gain him great fame in the Martial World,” Mr. Black-White said.

“Second Master, you’ve thought it wrong,” Xiang Wentian replied as he shook his head. “After today’s sword contest in the Plum Manor, regardless of who the winner is, if even one word about it leaks out, Brother Feng and I will stand condemned by Heaven, and we are no better than dog’s droppings.”

“Good, good! I like your frankness,” Mr. Paint remarked. “This room here is very spacious. Let me exchange a few moves with Brother Feng right here then. Brother Feng, where is your sword?”

“We are not bold enough to bring weapons to the Plum Manor,” Xiang Wentian replied with a smile.

Someone answered from outside the room and soon Ding Jian and Shi Lingwei returned, each holding a sword with both hands. Walking in front of Mr. Paint, they bowed and presented the swords. Picking up the sword from Ding Jian’s hands, Mr. Paint said to Shi Lingwei, “Give that sword to him.”

“Yes,” Shi Lingwei acknowledged and then walked in front of Linghu Chong, holding the sword high with both hands.

Feeling very embarrassed about this entire matter, Linghu Chong turned his head and glanced at Xiang Wentian.

“The Fourth Master of the Plum Manor has reached the acme in the understanding of sword arts. Brother Feng, even if you could only learn one move or one technique from him, you would still benefit from it the rest of your life,” Xiang Wentian affirmed.

Linghu Chong knew that under the current circumstance, this sword contest had become inevitable. Having no other alternatives, he took the sword with both hands, bowing slightly.

“Hold it, Fourth Brother,” Mr. Black-White spoke up suddenly. “This Brother Tong here has put up a wager that no one in our Plum Manor can defeat Brother Feng. Ding Jian also knows how to use a sword, and he is also part of the Plum Manor. You don’t necessarily have to do it yourself.” The more confident Xiang Wentian sounded, the more worried he became. So he decided to let Ding Jian take the challenge first and test the water. He knew that Ding Jian possessed excellent skills in sword arts; besides, Ding was only a servant in the Plum Manor. Even if Ding lost the fight, there would have been no harm done to the great name of the Plum Manor. And with this test, they would be able to tell how good or bad this Feng Er-Zhong’s skills in sword arts actually were.

“Sure, sure! As long as a person from the Plum Manor defeats my Brother Feng’s sword arts, it counts as our defeat. It doesn’t have to be the four masters themselves. Brother Ding here has earned the nickname ‘Straight Line Lightning Sword’ in the Martial World. His sword moves are so fast. Such speed is rarely seen in the world. Brother Feng, it will be good for you if you check out Brother Ding’s Straight Line Lightning Sword first.” Xiang Wentian did not object.

Mr. Paint tossed his long sword toward Ding Jian. “If you lose, you’ll be going to Turpan to transport wine for me as your punishment.” He grinned.

Ding Jian caught the long sword with a blow and turned toward Linghu Chong. “Ding Jian here thanks Mister Feng for the chance of the sword match,” he said. A short ring echoed as he drew his sword.

“Three Masters, Brother Ding, this is a contest of sword arts, so there’s no need to compete in the inner strength department,” Xiang Wentian spoke up again.

“Brother Feng,” Xiang Wentian turned to Linghu Chong, “you have to promise to not use any inner strength in the match. We are having a contest of sword arts. The one with fine and intimate moves wins the match and the one with crude and sluggish moves loses it. The inner energy cultivation method of your Huashan School is very well-known in the Martial World. If you use your inner strength to achieve victory, then it counts as our defeat.”

Linghu Chong almost laughed at these words. He thought to himself, “Brother Xiang knew very well that I don’t have any bit of inner strength. He is using these words to trick them.” So he said, “If I use my inner strength, for sure the three Masters, Brother Ding and Brother Shi will laugh their teeth off. I certainly dare not to use any bit of it.”

“We’ve come to the Plum Manor with complete sincerity. If Brother Feng keep sticking to etiquette and being too modest, that would be disrespectful to the four senior masters. Everyone in the Martial world knows that the ‘Divine Art of Violet Twilight’ of your Huashan School is far superior to the inner strength cultivation method of our Songshan School. Brother Feng, why don’t you stand in these two footprints of mine when you spar with Brother Ding and make sure you don’t move your feet?”

After these words, Xiang Wentian took a few steps aside, and two footprints, each almost two inches deep, appeared on two bricks on the floor. It turned out that while he was speaking he had shifted his inner strength to his feet and stamped two footprints on the bricks with shear force.

“Excellent Kung Fu!” Mr. Black-White, Mr. Bald-Brush, and Mr. Paint cheered in chorus.

Seeing how Xiang Wentian had shifted his inner strength to the bottom of his feet as he spoke without turning a hair, and there was not a single broken brick piece in the footprints he created, while the depth of the two footprints were exactly identical and the footprints were so smooth as though someone had carved it out carefully, they could tell that Xiang Wentian’s inner strength had reached an incredible level, which was way above the inner strength level of their own. They all thought that Xiang Wentian was just showing off his inner strength. Although such an affected performance appeared shallow, not something a true martial arts master would have done, his amazing inner strength cultivation was still very admirable. None had a clue that Xiang Wentian actually had profound meaning in his action.

Linghu Chong had no problem understanding Xiang Wentian’s behavior. Xiang had been propagating that his inner strength cultivation was superior to that of Xiang’s. If Xiang’s inner strength had been so extraordinary, then his could only have been more formidable, then when the match started, his opponents would not be bold enough to use inner strength against him, fearing of bringing disgrace to oneself. Besides, except for the skills in sword arts, he was no good in any other Kung Fu skills, and leaping and springing about were certainly not his good qualities. By standing in the two footprints and only use sword arts in the spar, he could easily hide his inadequacy.

When Ding Jian heard Xiang Wentian suggesting Linghu Chong to have the sword fight with him while standing still in the two footprints, he couldn’t help but feel greatly annoyed by the obvious contempt. But the profound inner strength Xiang Wentian showed by leaving footprints on bricks also astounded him. “If they are bold enough to challenge our four Masters, they could not have been ordinary. If I can get a draw out of the fight, I would have made a great contribution to the Plum Manor of the Lone Hill,” he thought to himself.

He used to be an extremely arrogant swordsman in former years, but later he encountered a very formidable enemy. He was taken prisoner and was put through many torments. Fortunately the “Four Playfellows of Jiangnan” rescued him and set him free. That was when he decided to join the Plum Manor and willingly took on the job of a servant. After so many years, the fierceness and boldness inside him had almost died out entirely.

“Brother Ding, please!” Linghu Chong stepped into the footprints made by Xiang Wentian and said with a smile.

“Please excuse my lack of manners,” Ding Jian apologized. He brandished his long sword transversely and suddenly, a long, white flash shot across everyone’s eyes like a lightning, accompanied by the slight sound of the blade cutting through the air.

Although he had been living in seclusion in the Plum Manor for over ten years, his Kung Fu skills had not declined a bit. The sword art he used was named the “Straight Line Lightning Sword Art,” and every time when a move in the sword art form was executed, it looked as though a lightning had just shot across the sky. The dazzling effect was so dramatic that it would have easily stunned the opponent and put fear in his heart. The formidable enemy that had once defeated him was a blind loner robber. Because the man was completely blind and used his hearing to detect Ding Jian’s sword moves, the awe-inspiring atmosphere created by the “Straight Line Lightning Sword” had no effect on him. At this moment when he put the sword art to good use, suddenly, the entire room had been filled with dazzling lightning flares.

But only after the first move of the “Straight Line Lightning Sword” was put to display, Linghu Chong had identified three major flaws in the sword art. Ding Jian didn’t rush with his attack and simply waved his sword about as though he was showing a good amount of manners to a guest of the manor when in truth, he really intended to dazzle and slacken Linghu Chong so he would not be able to withstand the sharp attacking moves following behind.

By the time Ding Jian was on his fifth move, Linghu Chong had already counted a total of eighteen flaws in his sword moves. “Excuse me,” he said as he thrust his long sword out at an oblique angle.

At the moment Ding Jian was in the middle of sweeping his sword from the left to the right in a rapid swing. Although the blade of Linghu Chong’s sword was still two feet and six inches from his wrist, but the swing would have sent his own wrist toward the naked blade, and since the sweep was too rapid and carried too much strength, it was already impossible to take it back.

“Look out!” the five bystanders called out in unison as if by prior agreement.

Mr. Black-White happened to be holding two game pieces, one black and one white, in his palm. Just when he was about to shoot them at Linghu Chong’s long sword to save Ding Jian’s hand from being cutting off, a thought popped into his head, “If I help Ding Jian out by interfering with the contest, that would make the fight two against one, then clearly the Plum Manor would have lost the match and there would be no need for any further contest.” Amid his hesitancy, Dian Jian’s wrist had swept toward the sword blade speedily while Shi Lingwei uttered a loud cry of panic.

At the faction of the second, Linghu Chong turned his wrist gently, turning the blade of the sword sideways. With a light clap, Ding Jian’s wrist hit the flat side of the sword, and to all the audiences’ pleasant surprise, his wrist didn’t suffer even the slightest damage. Only after a short daze did Ding Jian realize that his opponent had really shown great leniency. Within that fraction of a second, he had been fortunate enough to keep his hand. If his wrist had been cut, all his Kung Fu skills would have been ruined. Covered with cold sweat, he bowed down deeply.

Witnessing how Linghu Chong had turned his long sword to spare Ding Jian from bloodshed, Mr. Black-White, Mr. Bald-Brush, and Mr. Brush all felt their favor toward Linghu Chong growing rapidly. Mr. Paint poured a cup with wine and then raised it with both hands.

“Brother Feng, your sword skills are marvelous. Here’s a toast for you!” he said.

“You flatter me!” Linghu Chong replied. Taking the wine cup from Mr. Paint, he drank it up.

Mr. Paint also drank a cup of wine in accompany. Filling the wine cup in Linghu Chong’s hands again, he said, “Brother Feng, you are a man with great mercy and spared Ding Jian’s hand. That calls for another toast.”

“It was just a coincident. There’s nothing to it,” Linghu Chong answered and drank up his wine, holding the cup with both hands.

“Let’s hold on to the third cup here, shall we? Let’s have our play first, and whoever loses the match will have to drink the third cup as his penalty,” he said.

“I’ll be losing the match naturally. Why don’t I drink it first?” Linghu Chong showed a big grin.

“No hurry! No hurry!” Mr. Paint shook his hand in disapproval. Setting the wine cup onto the stone table, he grabbed the long sword from Ding Jian’s hands. “Brother Feng, you go first.”

At the time of the first two cups of wine, Linghu Chong had already been deliberating inwardly, “He claims that he is addicted to, firstly, the art of wine, secondly, the art of painting, and thirdly, the art of sword, then his skills in the sword art had to be very exceptional. Judging from that celestial beings painting of his at the reception hall, the strokes are no doubt swift and fierce, however, it seems that he had some problem discipline himself. If his sword moves are comparable to his painting techniques, then they must have many flaws.” Bowing down respectfully, he said, “Fourth Master, I beg for your clemency.”

Raising his long sword, he thrust it at Mr. Paint’s shoulder. The thrust was both skewed and tremulous. It obviously carried no strength, nor did it follow any methodical sword art principles. There simply could not have had a sword move like this amongst all possible sword arts in the entire world.

Since he knew that Linghu Chong was a member of the Huashan Sword School, he had been pondering over the many sword art forms of the Huashan School in his mind. Who would have thought that when the first move was shown, it was nothing like it? Not only wasn’t it a move from the Huashan Style Sword Arts, it couldn’t even be called a sword move.

Ever since Linghu Chong studied the art of sword from Feng Qingyang, he not only learned the world-prominent “Dugu Nine Swords,” but also grasped “overcoming a move without a move” the ultimate gist in the art of sword. This gist and the theory behind the “Dugu Nine Swords” supplement each other. Though the profoundness and subtlety of the “Dugu Nine Swords” had reached the extreme as a sword art form, it contained moves and techniques after all, which were still traceable. But once one applied the principle of “overcoming a move without a move” to it, it became even more volatile and unpredictable, leaving no mark for the opponent to fathom. Therefore, when Linghu Chong made the thrust, Mr. Paint was immediately stunned, not knowing what would be the right way to block it using his own sword. Very confused, he took two paces back to dodge it.

When Linghu Chong made Ding Jian threw down his sword and gave in with only one move, although Mr. Black-White and Mr. Bald-Brush both praised Linghu Chong’s sword skills inwardly, neither of them found the result surprising, thinking that if he was bold enough to challenge the Plum Manor, it would have been ridiculous if he couldn’t even defeat a servant of the Plum Manor. After seeing how Mr. Paint was forced to retreat two steps by his first thrust, they found themselves astounded.

After retreating two paces back, Mr. Paint charged two paces forward right away. Linghu Chong sent another thrust out with his long sword, this time aiming at the upper left side of Mr. Paint’s body. This thrust was, again, just a random thrust that did not follow any of the general sword art principles. Mr. Paint wanted to fend it off with a side swing of his sword, but before the two swords even collided, he immediately realized that the opponent’s sword tip had shifted into a slanting angle pointing toward the lower right costal region, which was wide open, and if the opponent took advantage of this weakness in defense, the situation would be beyond redemption. That meant the block would be very unwise. In desperation, he changed his move instantly. With a quick push to the ground, he sprang backward over ten feet.

“Excellent sword skills!” he shouted out and charged forward once again without any delay. Putting his entire weight behind the sword, he drove the blade toward Linghu Chong in great speed. This was a thrust with overwhelming power.

Noticing an obvious flaw at Mr. Paint’s bending right arm, Linghu Chong swung the long sword in no time and chopped toward his right elbow. If Mr. Paint did not change his move midway, then his right elbow would be cut off before he could incur any damage to his opponent. But Mr. Paint was a true swordsman with great skills. In the great hurry, he quickly lowered his wrist and thrust his sword at the floor. Relying on the counterforce from the floor, he flipped backward and landed steadily in over twenty feet. At the time his back was only a few inches from the wall. If he had used a little bit more strength when he executed the back flip, his back would have collided with the wall, which would have undoubtedly put a big dent on his reputation as a Martial Arts Grandmaster. But even so, the escape was simply too awkward, and his face showed some slight purplish red from the rush.

Being an open-minded and generous person, Mr. Paint laughed out, instead. Raising his left thumb, he uttered, “Excellent sword skills!” Waving his long sword vigorously, he launched a move “White Aurora Shooting the Sun,” which was then changed to “Willow Wickers Fluttering in the Spring Breeze,” which in turn changed to the “Mounting Flood-Dragon and the Soaring Phoenix.” The three moves were completed without any letup. It looked as though he didn’t ever move his feet, but once the three moves were executed, the tip of his long sword had reached Linghu Chong’s face.

Linghu Chong tilted his sword and smacked down gently, the flat side of his sword pushing down against the middle ridge of Mr. Paint’s long sword. The gentle smack was executed with such accuracy in its positioning and timing. At that exact moment when Mr. Paint thrust his sword forward, his strength and energy were all concentrating on the tip of the sword, and the middle ridge of the sword carried no strength at all. As a light clank echoed, the long sword in his hand sank helplessly. Linghu Chong snapped his wrist gently and sent his long sword forward, pointing directly at Mr. Paint’s solar plexus.

“Ah!” Mr. Paint cried out and leapt to the left. Folding his left hand into a sword finger form, he charged forward, waving the long sword in his right hand fiercely. This time he resorted to forceful hacks and chops, bringing his sword swishing down through the air. “Watch out!” he shouted.

He didn’t really want to injure Linghu Chong. But this strike named “Jade Dragon Hanging Upside Down” was extremely swift and fierce. If the opponent had overlooked it and he couldn’t rein in his own force in time, he was afraid that the strike might actually wound the opponent.

“Got it!” Linghu Chong acknowledged as he poked his long sword upward. With a slight rustle, the edge of his sword sliced upward right next to the side of Mr. Paint’s sword.

If Mr. Paint followed through with the sword strike, before his blade could reach Linghu Chong’s head, his five fingers holding his long sword would have been sliced off first. As he watched his opponent’s long sword sliding upward against his own blade, a move that could not be countered, having no other alternative, he struck down heavily with his left palm. The energy shot out from his palm hit the floor with a loud boom, and utilizing the counterforce, he leapt backward and landed over ten feet away.

Before he even recomposed to a firm stance, he had drew three circles in front of him with his long sword, which magically changed into three circles of light. The three circles of light looked as though they’d actually materialized. After freezing in the air for a moment, they began moving toward Linghu Chong gradually. At the first look, these sword energy turned circles of light did not appear as swift or fierce as the “Straight Line Lightning Sword,” but the energy released easily filled the entire room and everyone felt the chilling force coming from them.

Linghu Chong extended his long sword and then sliced out from the left side of the light circle with an inclined angle, which was exactly an energy gap when the power from Mr. Paint’s first move was just about to die and the power from the second move was just about to be released.

“Oh?” Mr. Paint uttered and retreated. The light circles made from the sword energy also retreated together with him. But all of a sudden, the light circles shrank briefly before growing into enormous shapes rapidly and gushing speedily toward Linghu Chong.

Linghu Chong shook his wrist and thrust out his long sword; once again, with another cry of surprise, Mr. Paint leapt away in a hurry.

Thus with numerous quick charging forwards and quick retreats, within moments, Mr. Paint had attacked with eleven moves and retreated eleven times. By then, the reflections from his sword had grown severely from the accelerated attacks and painted a layer of blue on his face. His beard and mustache also looked as though they were all standing on their ends from the tense atmosphere. Amid a loud roar from Mr. Paint, dozens of light circles, some big and some small, shot toward Linghu Chong at the same time. This was the very peak of perfection in his sword art, with which he had combined dozens of sword moves into one. Every single one out of the dozens of sword moves contained fierce killer techniques, and each move had several variations. Once combined, the complexity was simply unrivaled.

Resisting complexity with simplicity, Linghu Chong squatted slightly and prodded his sword tip up from under the dozens of light circles, pointing directly at Mr. Paint’s lower stomach. With another loud cry, Mr. Paint leapt backward with all his strength. “Bang!” he sat heavily on the stone table from the fall. Next, several clatters echoed as the wine cups on the stone table fell to the floor from the sudden shake and smashed to pieces.

“Marvelous! Marvelous!” Mr. Paint broke into a loud laughter. “Brother Feng, your skills in the art of sword are much, much better than mine. Come, come, come! I propose three toasts for you!”

Mr. Black-White and Mr. Bald-Brush knew very well about their fourth brother’s attainments in the art of sword. But without ever stepping out of the footprints made by Xiang Wentian, Linghu Chong successfully forced Mr. Paint back eighteen times during his sixteen attacking moves. The incredible sword skills Linghu Chong had shown were both admirable and frightening. Mr. Paint filled the wine cups and drank three cups together with Linghu Chong.

“Among the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan, my Kung Fu is the weakest. Although I admit my defeat, Second Brother and Third Brother won’t admit theirs. Probably they’ll want to check you out themselves,” he said.

“We did exchanged many moves, but Fourth Master didn’t lose in anyone of them, how can we conclude the match with a winner?” Linghu Chong disagreed.

“I lost after the first move. The rest seventeen moves were all unnecessary. Big Brother says that I need to improve my demeanor. He is absolutely right.” Mr. Paint shook his head.

“Fourth Master’s demeanor is in very high standard, just like your tolerance of wine is also in very high standard,” Linghu Chong said with a smile.

Being a man who thought highly of himself in the art of sword, Mr. Paint didn’t have a single trace of irritation after losing to a not well-known at all junior swordsman. The negligent and open-minded grace he had shown was undoubtedly first-class. Both Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong felt great admiration for him.

“Shi, will you please go and get me my bald brush?” Mr. Bald-Brush said to Shi Lingwei.

Shi Lingwei answered and went out. Soon, he returned with a weapon and then presented the weapon to Mr. Bald-Brush with both hands respectfully.

Linghu Chong took at look at it, which turned out to be a Judge’s Pen, one foot and six inches in length, cast in fine steel. The funny thing was that there was actually a bundle of wool, still with ink, tied to the end of the Judge’s Pen, as though it was a real brush used for writing. For ordinary Judge’s Pens, the head section was used to seal the enemy’s Acupoints. But this pen here used the soft lamb wool as the pen’s head. When it was used to strike people’s Acupoints, how could it help in defeating the enemy in a real battle? Linghu Chong figured that Mr. Bald-Brush must know some special kind of Kung Fu; besides, he must possess very resourceful inner strength, so as soon as the inner energy is released, even lamb wool could be used to wound the enemy.

“Brother Feng, are you still going to stay in those two footprints?” taking the Judge’s Pen into his hand, Mr. Bald-Brush asked with a grin.

Linghu Chong took two steps back at once. “I dare not! I am a junior asking pointers from a Senior Master, how dare I be overconfident?” He bowed.

“There you go!” Mr. Paint nodded. “When you had the sword contest with me, it was okay for you to stay put. But to fight my Third Brother, that wouldn’t be wise.”

Mr. Bald-Brush raised the Judge’s Pen and smiled. “My stroke forms are all created from variations of famous calligraphy artists’ masterpieces. Brother Feng is a man well versed in both polite letters and martial arts. I am sure you can easily recognize the way of my Judge’s Pen moves. Brother Feng is a good friend, therefore, I won’t dip this bald brush in ink.”

Linghu Chong was slightly taken aback, thinking to himself, “If he didn’t consider me a good friend, then he would have dipped his brush in ink. What’s going to happen if he does dip his brush in ink?”

He was unaware that the ink Mr. Bald-Brush dipped his brush in during real combats was actually made from stewing very special medicinal materials, and after the ink got on one’s skin, the color would imprint deeply under the skin and could never be removed, whether by washing or scraping with a knife. In the former years when Martial masters had fought the “Four Playfellows of Jiangnan,” Mr. Bald-Brush had been the one giving them the most headaches. If anyone had not been extra careful, he would end up with a circle, a cross, or even a word or two written on his face by the Mr. Bald-Brush, and then the rest of his life would have been completed ruined. People would rather take a hack or even lose an arm than having him drawing things on the face. Only because Mr. Bald-Brush saw how Linghu Chong showed great leniency in his match against Ding Jian and Mr. Paint, had he decided to not dip his brush in ink.

Even though Linghu Chong had no idea what Mr. Bald-Brush had meant, he figured that it must have been some kind of good intention. So he bowed.

“Many thanks for the great kindness. Unfortunately I am not very literate; I am sure I won’t be able to recognize Third Master’s brush strokes.”

Mr. Bald-Brush was slightly disappointed. “You don’t know calligraphy?” he said. “Okay, let me explain it to you first. The stroke form I am about to use is called ‘General Pei Poem,’[16] which transformed from Yan Zhenqing’s[17] calligraphy book. There are a total of twenty-three characters, and each character contains between three and sixteen moves. Now listen carefully: ‘General Pei! The great lord that ruled the Six Directions![18] The valiant general that guarded peace in the Nine Fields![19] His war-horse as valorous as the dragon or tiger, galloping above the high mound with grand and heroic spirit!’”

“Thanks for the guidance,” Linghu Chong replied, but inwardly, he thought, “You can explain about the poem or the calligraphy all you want. I know nothing about them anyhow.”

Mr. Bald-Brush swung the big pen and pecked three times toward Linghu Chong’s left cheek. These were none other than the first three strokes of the character “Pei.” These three pecks were actually fake moves. Raising his big pen high in the air, he was just about delineate down from the top, when Linghu Chong suddenly thrust his long sword out in a preemptive strike and stabbed toward his right shoulder. Mr. Bald-Brush was forced into holding his big pen crosswise to block the strike, but by then Linghu Chong had already retracted his sword. Their two weapons did not collide with each other; both moves turned out to be fakes. But Mr. Bald-Brush was only able to execute half of the first move of the “General Pei” form and couldn’t complete it.

After blocking only to thin air, Mr. Bald-Brush immediately launched the second move. Before the head of the pen had a chance to strike forward, Linghu Chong had already thrust at another spot where he had no alternative but to defend. Without delay, Mr. Bald-Brush swung his pen backward to fend it off, but Linghu Chong had retracted his long sword once again, and Mr. Bald-Brush’s second wave terminated again only half way through.

Right from the beginning, Mr. Bald-Brush’s two moves were both interrupted midway through. Not able to complete the pen form he was very proud of, Mr. Bald-Brush couldn’t help but feel quite annoyed, as though a calligrapher had just picked up his brush to write, but only a few strokes into it, a naughty kid began catching his penholder or pulling his arms, and prevented him from finishing writing a character smoothly.

“I have already read the entire poem of ‘General Pei Poem’ to him beforehand. He knows the order of my strokes and is able to predict my moves and stop me ahead of time. I’d better not follow the order of the characters with my later moves,” Mr. Bald-Brush thought inwardly. After a fake dot, the big pen curved downward from the upper right corner to the lower left corner with abundant strength, writing the character “As” in the Grass Style. But Linghu Chong quickly pushed his long sword forward and pointed at his right rib cage. Astounded, Mr. Bald-Brush reversed the movement of the Judge’s Pen and smash it toward Linghu Chong’s long sword. Who would have expected that this stab of Linghu Chong’s was not a real stab? All he really did was just showing the posture, but once again, Mr. Bald-Brush was only able to execute half of his move. With this Grass Style stroke, he had put out a great amount of energy and strength. When suddenly the movement was redirected, not only did the stroke become stagnant, his internal strength was also forced to reroute, which stirred up quite some energy disruption inside his lower stomach and caused indescribable discomfort.

After taking a deep breath, he waved his Judge’s Pen rapidly in an attempt to finish the “Galloping” move, but only half way into it, he was forced to retract his Judge’s Pen in defense by Linghu Chong’s attack just as usual.

Mr. Bald-Brush was greatly irritated. “Hey chap! Stop putting sand in the wheels!” he bellowed as he accelerated his Judge’s Pen’s movement. But no matter how he sprang left and right transforming his moves, he was only able to write up to the second stroke with each character before being forced to stop by Linghu Chong’s sword strikes.

Mr. Bald Brush uttered a loud roar, and suddenly the writing style changed completely. Before, the flow of the strokes was free and unrestrained; now the strokes turned thick and heavy, with the vigor passing through the center while the cutting edge appeared blustering and aggressive. The strokes looked straightforward yet grand at the same time.

Linghu Chong of course had no way of knowing that this stroke form was inspired by the calligraphy book “Mount Bameng Maxim” written by the famous Shu General Zhang Fei,[20] but he also noticed the dramatic change in the writing style. He couldn’t care for less as to what move his opponent was using, and every time as soon as he saw the Judge’s Pen move, he would attack its flaw.

Mr. Bald-Brush croaked in frustration, but regardless of his movements, he was only able to execute half of his move and never succeeded in completing the full move.

Suddenly, Mr. Bald-Brush’s writing style changed again and began writing the Grass Style in “Huai Su Self-Stating Book”[21] Now the strokes flutters in all directions and the flow of the writing became much unpredictable.

“Huai Su’s Grass Style calligraphy, by itself, was already very difficult to read. Now I am adding even more Grass Scripts to the Grass Style, I bet this chap won’t be able to recognize this self-made Grass Scripts of mine,” he thought to himself.

How could he have known that Linghu Chong couldn’t even read many characters written in the square-shaped regular scripts, not mentioning the unrestrained Grass Scripts? He had assumed that the only reason Linghu Chong succeeded in predicting his movement and stopping him ahead of time was because Linghu Chong had been able to read his writing, when in fact all Linghu Chong saw in his eyes were weapon moves and forms, and his successful striking to the cracks all attributed to attacking the flaws in the opponent’s moves.

Even with the Crazy Grass Style, Mr. Bald-Brush still could only go as far as half a move with each of his moves. Feeling the indignation growing rapidly inside his chest, he suddenly shouted out loudly.

Leaping backward, he picked up that barrel of grape wine Mr. Paint had brought along and poured the wine onto the stone table. Dipping his big pen in the wine, he began writing on the white wall, and it was none other that “General Pei Poem.” All twenty-three characters appeared full of passion, especially the character “As,” which looked as though it could have flown off the wall any minute.

After finishing off the writing, Mr. Bald-Brush finally let out a breath of relief. Turning his head sideways slightly, he admired the large characters on the white wall in dark red color, and laughed out loudly.

“Wonderful! Among my life-long artworks, this one is the finest,” he concluded.

“Second Brother, can I take this game room from you? I’d hate to part with this calligraphy work. I am afraid that I’ll never be able to write anything as good in the rest of my life,” he requested.

“Fine,” Mr. Black-White answered. “Other that the stone table, there’s nothing else in this room anyway. Even if you don’t want it, I’d have to move all the same. How can I ever focus on the game of go while facing the vigorous calligraphy of yours everyday?”

Mr. Bald-Brush stared at the several lines of calligraphy and wagged his head back and forth, feeling very pleased of himself.

“Even if the revered Mr. Yan was reborn, I am afraid he wouldn’t be able to write something like this,” he praised himself. Turning his head toward Linghu Chong, he said, “Hey buddy! It all thanks to you for keeping my ardors inside my belly until it was filled to the point of bursting, and then all of a sudden, they poured out from my heart through my hand and enabled me to create such splendid and unparalleled work under heaven. Your sword skills are excellent, and my calligraphy skills are also excellent. This is called each has his specialty and no winner can be claimed in this match.”

“Exactly! Each has his specialty and no winner can be claimed in this match,” Xiang Wentian agreed.

“This Third Brother of mine is as innocent and artless as a child. Please note that he is simply crazy about calligraphy; it’s not that he does not admit he had lost the match.” Mr. Black-White explained.

“I understand,” Xiang Wentian answered. “The wager is that no one in the Plum Manor can beat Brother Feng’s sword art anyway, so as long as no winner can be claimed, we don’t lose our wager.”

Reaching under the stone table, Mr. Black-White drew a square-shaped iron board from underneath. The iron board had nineteen horizontal lines and nineteen vertical lines engraved onto it. Turned out this was a game board cast in iron. Holding a corner of the iron game board, he said, “Brother Feng, let me using this game board as my weapon to check out your brilliant moves.”

“I’ve heard that Second Master’s game board is a magical treasure item that can control many kinds of weapons and projectiles,” Xiang Wentian said.

Mr. Black-White cast a long glance at him and then replied, “Brother Tong certainly has wide learning and a retentive memory. Very admirable! Very admirable! In fact, this weapon of mine is no magical item. It was made from magnets, so it would be able to attract game pieces made of iron, this way when I played games with other people while boarding boats or on horsebacks in former years, the game pieces would stay and allow us to continue with the game.”

Hearing these words, Linghu Chong thought to himself, “Luckily Brother Xiang gave me the pointer ahead of time, otherwise, my long sword would have been attracted to his game board right from the start, and I’d have lost the match without the real fight. When I spar with this person, I have to make sure that I don’t let his game board touch my long sword.” At that thought, he pointed his long sword to the floor and then cupped his hands in salute.

“Second Master, thanks for giving me the opportunity to ask advice from you.”

“I dare not. Brother Feng’s understanding in the art of sword is brilliant. I have never seen extraordinary sword skills in my life. Please start!” Mr. Black-White said.

With a random slice Linghu Chong let his long sword wiggled in the air following an squiggly line.

“What kind of sword move is this?” Mr. Black-White hesitated for a fraction of a second. Seeing that the tip of the sword quickly approaching his own throat, he swung his game board and blocked. But Linghu Chong had redirected the stab and thrust his long sword toward his right shoulder. Without much thinking, Mr. Black-White moved the game board and blocked again. Before the long sword even approached the game board, Linghu Chong had retracted it and thrust it at Mr. Black-White’s lower stomach instead, which Mr. Black-White blocked once again.

“If I don’t counter attack, how do I take over the initiative?” Mr. Black-White thought inwardly.

In the game of go, it is very important to control the initiative of the game; in a martial arts competition, it is also critical to control the initiative. As an expert in the gamesmanship, Mr. Black-White of course was very familiar with this idea, so not wasting another moment, he raised his game board and pounded it toward Linghu Chong’s right shoulder. The game board was about two feet wide and one inch thick. It was a very heavy piece of weapon. If it smashed into the long sword, even if the iron board didn’t have magnetism, the long sword would still have been broken.

Turning his body slightly toward the side, Linghu Chong drove the sword toward the Mr. Black-White’s lower rib cage. In Mr. Black-White’s eyes, this thrust didn’t look like a legitimate move at all, but the spot it was attacking certainly required attention. So he swung the game board in a tilted angle to knock toward the long sword and at the same time pushed the game board forward. This move “Big Hosi”[22] was one that contained counterattacking in the defending. If Linghu Chong had to respond to this move, then his following moves would pour out in a steady stream. Who would have thought that Linghu Chong paid no attention to his move? Jabbing his long sword with an angle, Linghu Chong had launched a forestalled attack. Thus, Mr. Black-White’s defending move containing counterattacking function only had half the effect: the defending part worked but the counterattacking didn’t.

Afterwards, one thrust after another, Linghu Chong attacked over forty times without any delay. Mr. Black-White blocked left and warded right and defended his front and protected his back, putting up a defense shield so tight as though if one splashed water toward the shield, not even a drop of water would make it through, a very firm shield indeed. But they exchanged over forty moves, and Mr. Black-White’s over forty moves were all defending moves. He didn’t even have a spare second to launch one counterattacking move.

Mr. Bald-Brush, Mr. Paint, Ding Jian, and Shi Lingwei were completed stupefied. They could all see with their own eyes that Linghu Chong’s moves were neither quick, nor overwhelming, nor fierce, and the transformation between moves didn’t seem tricky or crafty, but every time when he thrust his long sword out, it would always put Mr. Black-White into straitened circumstances and make him work to make up for his flaws. Mr. Bald-Brush and Mr. Paint both understood it very well that there is flaw in every single martial arts move. But if one could forestall and attack the opponent’s vital points first, then his own flaws would not have become flaws, and even if he had hundreds or even thousands of flaws, it would not have mattered. And the forty or so continuing attacking moves Linghu Chong showed simply followed this principle.

Mr. Black-White also felt the shock growing bigger and bigger in his heart. He really wanted to launch his own counterattack, but as soon as he moved the game board slightly, the sword tip of the opponent was already pointing toward the flaws in his own moves. Within the forty moves also, he simply had no chance to improve the situation, as though he was playing a game of go with someone who had much, much higher skills, and for every single one of the forty or so game pieces the opponent played, he had no choice but to respond. Mr. Black-White knew that if the fight had continued like this, then even after another one hundred or two hundred moves, he would still be in the same boat where he would keep taking hits and never be able to fight back.

“If I don’t take on some risks for a chance of success, then my illustrious name would have been completely ruined,” he thought to himself. Swinging his game board forward horizontally, he smashed it toward Linghu Chong’s left side waist in high speed. Once again, without dodge for the strike, Linghu Chong thrust his long sword toward Mr. Black-White’s lower stomach, but this time, Mr. Black-White didn’t retrieve his game board to defend and still smashed the game board forward as though he was ready to risk his life and have a common ruin with his opponent. At the time when the sword tip approached his stomach, he suddenly reached out with his left hand and clipped at the sword blade with his index finger and middle finger. He had mastered the “Profound Heavenly Finger” Kung Fu, and the two fingers carried immense inner strength, which was really no less than another powerful weapon.

Seeing Mr. Black-White using such a risky move, the five bystanders all cried out in shock. Such move would no longer qualify as a contest of skills, but rather a game of life and death. If he failed to catch the sword with his fingers, then the sword tip would undoubtedly end up penetrating his stomach. Within the fraction of an instant, all five of them felt cold sweat in their palms. Mr. Black-White’s two fingers were almost touching the sharp blade of the sword, and whether he could catch the blade or not, one out of the two sparring pair would for sure get wounded or get killed. If he did catch the blade, then Linghu Chong’s long sword could not go any further, the game board would strike him in the waist, and he would not have any time to evade it. If he failed to catch the blade, or if he did catch the blade but failed to stop the long sword from going forward, then the long sword would continue with the thrust and even if Mr. Black-White wanted to leap back, he would have no time to do so.

Just at the instant when Mr. Black-White’s finger barely touched the blade of the sword, the tip of the sword suddenly went upward and pointed at his throat. This change simply exceeded everybody’s wildest imagination. Throughout all the martial arts in the history, there couldn’t have ever had a move like this, because this would have meant that the first thrust toward the lower stomach was actually a fake. Using such a fake move in a fight between two top-notch martial artists would have been a joke. But even though this move did not comply with any orthodox principle in the art of sword, it did come out through Linghu Chong’s hand. The sword tip prodded upward toward Mr. Black-White’s throat. If Mr. Black-White’s game board continued with the strike forward, the prod would have penetrated his throat first.

Utterly dumbstruck, Mr. Black-White used all his strength and held the game board still. He was a man with very quick wits and a master in gamesmanship, at the moment of the imminent peril, he immediately figured out the opponent’s intention: if he aborted his strike with the game board, then the opponent’s long sword would not prod forward either.

Sure enough, seeing that he held the game board still, Linghu Chong also froze the thrust with the long sword. The tip of the sword was only inches from his throat while his game board was also only inches from Linghu Chong’s waist. Both of them held their positions steady and froze like two lifeless statues.

Although it looked as if neither was willing to budge, Linghu Chong was really the one with all the advantages. The game board was a heavy item; only when it was striking down from several feet afar would it incur any damage. At present, it was only inches from Linghu Chong, even if Mr. Black-White decided to push it forward with lots of power, it wouldn’t do Linghu Chong much harm, but all Linghu Chong had to do was to prod forward gently, and the sword tip would easily kill his opponent. It was pretty obvious for everyone to tell who was in better shoes.

“Well, neither dares to move first. That’s called ‘Dual Life’ in the rule of go. Second Master is really both intelligent and courageous. You have ended up a draw in the match against Brother Feng,” Xiang Wentian declared with a grin.

Linghu Chong withdrew his long sword and took two steps back. “Please excuse my boldness.” He bowed.

“Brother Tong must be joking. How can one call this a draw? Brother Feng’s understanding in the art of sword is incomparable. I just had a crushing defeat,” Mr. Black-White muttered.

“Second Brother, your Kung Fu with your game piece darts is a unique skill in the Martial World. Nobody could ever escape it when you shoot out the three hundred and sixty-one black and white game pieces. Why don’t you check out this Brother Feng’s Kung Fu in breaking darts?” Mr. Paint suggested.

Mr. Black-White felt a throb in his heart. He glanced at Xiang Wentian, who nodded slightly a few times. Turning his head to look at Linghu Chong, he found no expression on Linghu Chong’s face.

“This one’s sword skills are to the extreme,” he thought secretly, “in the entire world, that person probably is the only one who could defeat him. The look on those two’s faces suggested that they had great confidence. If I have another contest of darts, most probably I’ll end up making myself a fool one more time.”

At that thought, he shook his head and showed a wry smile, “I have already admitted my defeat. What’s the need for another match of darts?”

[1] Gold cast into the shape of leaves for the convenience of travelers.

[2] The world’s most ancient man-made waterway, China’s Grand Canal, a system still in use up to the 21st Century, was built in the Sui Dynasty in 606 AD, which linked the Yangtze, Yellow and Huai rivers, requiring the conscription of up to two million workers.

[3] South of the lower reaches of the Yangtze River.

[4] Turfan is a famous city in the Xinjiang Autonomous Region. It’s very famous for its high temperature in the summer. And because of the special climate, the city produces world-renowned Hami melons and grapes. The famous Mountain of Blaze descried in the novel Journey to the West is located right next to the city of Turfan.

[5] Great Master Xuan-Zang, or Tang Seng (Monk from Tang Dynasty), journeyed all the way to India in order to retrieve the true Buddhist Scriptures. Later, his story was written into the famous novel, Journey to the West.

[6] A Chinese game for two, played with black and white counters on a board that is ruled with 19 vertical and 19 horizontal lines. You can visit this web page by Mindy McAdams for more information about the game of Go.

[7] Legend has it that in the Jin Dynasty, there was a young woodman named Wang Zhi. One day when he went up the mountain to chop woods as usual, he saw two old men playing a game of Go, so he set his axe aside and watched by the side. By the time the game was over and the two old men had left, he decided to gather his axe and get on with his work. That was when he found out that the helve of his axe had decayed completely. Very baffled, he went down the mountain, only to find out that five hundred years had passed and everybody he had known had all passed away. Because this story was so wide spread that people of the later generations gave the game of Go a nickname: Decayed Helve.

[8] Legend has it that in the Northern Song Dynasty, Liu Zhongpu, the National Champion in the game of Go, played a game of Go with a young girl in a teahouse. Liu’s white pieces took all the upper hands in the game. Very pleased with himself, Liu made no effort of concealing his arrogance, so the young girl excused herself and soon returned with a granny, who picked up where the young girl had left off in the game of Go. With much ease, the granny placed her pieces on the board quickly and completely turned the game around, knocking Liu off his feet. The utmost anxiety and desperation hit Liu hard and he began spitting up blood from the frustration. Only after he had lost the game did he realize that the young girl and the granny were not human but celestial beings.

[9] Legend has it that when Xuan-Zong, the emperor of Tang, fled to Szechwan because of An Lushan’s revolt. Wang Jixin, his royal champion of Go, also followed. And along the way, one day, Wang Jixin put up for the night under the eave of an old farmer granny’s house, when he heard the bed talk between the old granny and her daughter-in-law. Turned out they were playing a game of Go while lying on bed in the dark simply by spelling out their moves. Greatly shaken by the brilliant moves, Wang Jixin memorized all the moves in the game quietly. The next morning when he tried to consult the old granny and her daughter-in-law, he found out that the house was actually an abandoned house with no one living in it. He suspected that the old granny and her daughter-in-law were actually fairy foxes who had assumed human shape.

[10] Confucius looked on the game of Go as a waste of time, thus criticized it as unorthodox school.

[11] These are terms in the game of Go. Please see this web page for more information.

[12] See the painting here.

[13] A highly cursive script style in Chinese calligraphy (a subset of Grass Style calligraphy) executed with strokes flowing together. Not only the style writing is free and easy, but also fast.

[14] The style of calligraphy for inscriptions on drum-shaped stone blocks of the Warring States Period (475-221 B.C.)

[15] Han Yu, a famous poet, writer, and philosopher of the Tang Dynasty.

[16] See the calligraphy book here.

[17] Yan Zhenqing (709-785AD) is a famous calligraphy artist during the Tang Dynasty who created the Yan Style of Chinese Calligraphy.

[18] Six Directions: The six cardinal directions: front, back, left, right, above, and below, meaning all under heaven.

[19] Nine Fields: North, South, East, West, Middle, Northwest, Northeast, Southwest, Southeast, meaning the world.

[20] A famous general during the Three Kingdoms period. See Romance of the Three Kingdoms for the story of Zhang Fei.

[21] Huai Su was another very famous Calligraphy Artist in Chinese history. See the calligraphy book here.

[22] A special term in the game of Go. Please see this web page for more information.

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Chapter Nineteen: The Wager (draft)