CH 48: Vengeance of the Pugilists

There was a stormy rain which caused the roads to be flooded within an hour. Slowly, the rain grew lighter, but appeared to be becoming more sustained, and likely to continue throughout the night. A group of people who sought shelter at the official waystation[1] were trapped.

Yang Feng sat in the room. The door was wide open, but he paid no attention to the rain being blown in. There was no way he could get on the road that day, and could only wait till the next day. He hoped that he would be in time.

Why did the fate seer Chunyu Qiong sneak into the Capital? That would be the most dangerous place for him. And what did “aura of a new Emperor” mean? Did Chunyu Qiong find a new target to incite? Thinking things through, Yang Feng felt like there was only one possibility.

A commotion could be heard from the outside. Even though the rain was loud, the shouts could still be heard.

Four followers were in the same room as Yang Feng. One of them threw a glance at Yang Feng and went out into the rain. Soon, he returned. He bowed and said, “Three farmhands wish to enter wish to enter the station to seek shelter but were refused by the station chief. Hence, the commotion.”

Yang Feng grunted in acknowledgement but did not pay the matter much thought. The follower was about to return to his position when Yang Feng changed his mind. “Summon them in.”

“Yes.” Yang Feng’s followers were trusted followers whom he had groomed personally. They obeyed his every word, and never asked unnecessary questions.

Before long, there farmhands approached with the follower in the rain. They stood by the door, not daring to enter.

The three of them had very varied ages. The oldest was in his sixties, and was thin as a bag of bones but had a bloated stomach. He was barefoot, his pants were rolled up, and his hands held a straw hat. He smiled, nodded and bowed at the lord in the room. “Mercy, my lord. The rain is too heavy and we could not continue our journey. We had no choice but to come here seeking shelter, and did not intend to disturb Your Lordship.”

There was another man in his thirties. He was tan and muscular, wearing straw sandals and also had a straw hat in his hand. He bowed his head low and did not speak. It seemed like he was afraid of officials.

The last person was a youth in his teens. He remained half-hidden behind the muscular man.

Yang Feng observed the three men for a while before saying, “Since you seek shelter, you may enter.”

The old man bowed profusely but remained at the door. He did not dare be too close to an official. The teen hid himself even more.

Yang Feng asked, “Elder, how old are you?”

“To answer my lord’s question, I am 53 this year. I look older than I am since I am a lowly person who is always exposed to the weather.” The old man took a bow after every sentence.

“You all are from the local village?”

“Yes, my lord. We have lived here since the time of our ancestors and have never left.”

“How far are we from Hangu Gate?”

“About half a day’s journey.”

Yang Feng went silent for a while. “Is there a custom here of travelling by horse?”

The old man laughed. “No, my lord, only important people get to ride horses. People like us would be lucky to ride a mule. Usually, we walk with our own two feet.”

“That’s strange. It takes half a day to get to Hangu Gate from here, but that is on horseback. How would you know that it’s a half day’s journey?”

The old man nodded even more profusely. “Even though this old man is not lucky enough to ride horses, but I have heard from others that that is how long it would take. My lord would surely ride a horse, so I said half a day’s journey. If one were to walk, one would have to get up before dawn. Even rushing the entire day, one would only reach the gate when it is dark. At that time, the gate would be closed and entry forbidden.”

Yang Feng nodded and turned his gaze to the person beside the old man. “That dark fellow, what’s your name?”

The dark muscular man had kept his head low, but did not seem as submissive as the old man. It was as though he was being forced to speak. When he heard the question, he answered in a muffled voice. “My lord, I am Zhang Ironlump.”

“What a fitting name. Are you truly as hard as a lump of iron?”

“My lord jests. It is just a nonsensical name, how can one be as hard as iron?”

“Is that so? I have heard of one Ironhead Hu San’er. He trained so much that his head was as though as iron. He once dueled with the famed Zhao You of Baima County, and bashed his head against his mace. Both parties were pushed back by the force, and the duel ended in a draw. Ironhead became famous after that.”

The muscular man remained silent, and the old man interjected with some laughter. “My lord is knowledgeable about the world. We are but boorish villagers, so we only know of this Ironlump, and not of that famed Ironhead.”

“The people of the pugilist world like bragging. Zhao You has been shot to death, and I think that Hu San’er would also not be worthy of his fame. A swing of the blade would easily decapitate him.”

The old man was still smiling, but the muscular man could no longer control himself. He shouted, “We have been seen through, so what are we waiting for? Attack!”

As the muscular man yelled, the old man and the teen started to take action. They drew short swords from behind the muscular man. The old man leapt forward while the teen rolled from between the muscular man’s legs. One from above and one from below, they pounced on Yang Feng.

Yang Feng sat still in his chair. Ever since leaving Baima County, he had been on the alert for assassins. Hence, he was not shocked at all. Behind him, four of his followers raised their right arm, revealing the crossbows that they had hidden behind them. They fired their crossbows and two bolts flew towards the old man who was mid-air, while the other two bolts were aimed at the muscular man and the teen.

Yang Feng’s room was the largest in the waystation. But even then, there was not much room for a melee. The bolts shot like lightning, and it would be a monumental task to dodge them. But the old man leaping in the air somehow leaped further up, landing on the roof beams of the room. The teen on the ground also quickly changed directions and flipped towards the door, avoiding the bolt aimed at him. Only the muscular man reacted a little slower. He watched as the bolt flew towards him, before yelling and charging towards his target anyway.

The four followers drew their blades. One of them remained by Yang Feng’s side, while the other three entered the melee. Three more followers came in from the outside to assist, while even more maintained guard outside the room.

The fight did not last long. The muscular man was the first to be struck down. With two blades against his throat, he did not dare move. After all, he was made of flesh, not iron.

The teen fought against two followers by himself, and he was soon forced into a corner. He could not keep up and did not last long.

Only the old man was temporarily safe up atop the roof beams. Two followers tried jumping up but he fended them off.

Yang Feng did not even raise his head as he spoke, “Sword Immortal Du Motian. Unfortunately, this room has a roof, so you cannot reach the heavens.[2] Come down, if you want your grandson to live.”

The teen shouted loudly, “Grandfather! Don’t care about me…”

The old man Du Motian could see clearly from above that his grandson was no match for the guards. He could not help but sigh. “Don’t hurt my grandson. I will come down.”

The two guards held back their blades, but the teen was kept at blade-point.

Du Motian first threw his short sword down, before jumping down. He stood up straight without kneeling, with his head up high. He stared at Yang Feng, and no trace of the farmhand remained.

“Ironhead Hu San’er, Sword Immortal Du Motian, and Du Chuanyun. Why just the three of you? Why have the others not come?”

Seeing that Yang Feng even knew his grandson’s name, Du Motian sighed again. “Sure enough, you are not a simple person. You reside deep within the imperial palace, and yet you have a complete grasp of us in the pugilist world. And to think I wondered how Zhao You, with his network of allies, could die to a eunuch and a few soldiers. I see… There were degenerates of the pugilist world who were your informants.”

“Informants? You all did not even conspire in secret, why would it be difficult to get information? After all, as grand heroes of the pugilist world, how could you all not boast about raising your blades to seek vengeance for a friend? The day after Zhao You was killed, forty to fifty pugilists gathered at Baima County and swore to take revenge for him. Two days later, at a gathering at Linzhi City, 120 men gathered, drinking from noon till night, before swearing vengeance again, and the location of Hangu Gate was selected. But the very next day, only fifty-odd men were left, while the others left on some excuse or another. Am I wrong?”

Du Motian was rendered speechless. He did not expect that an imperial envoy, and a eunuch to boot, would pay such close attention to matters of the pugilist world.

Ironhead Hu San’er shouted angrily, “Those cowardly ingrates! Only thirteen of us…”

“Shut up!” Du Motian shouted. Hu San’er jolted and hurriedly kept his mouth shout.

“Only thirteen of you.” Yang Feng shook his head. “You set up an ambush outside Hangu Gate, intending to mount a sneak attack. But this heavy rain foiled your plans, so the three of you disguised yourselves as farmhands to investigate matters.”

“Since you already know, we have nothing more to say. Zhao You had plenty of friends. You may kill us today, but there will be others who will avenge him.” Du Motian turned and looked at his grandson. “And there will be those who avenge us.”

“Of course. I will wait for a month.” Yang Feng took a cup of tea from a follower and took a light sip. “But tea goes cold when the person is gone. One month later, you would just be yet another story for others to tell. In the story, I would be a shameless bad guy, while you would be a righteous hero. And that, would be the extent of the vengeance exacted on your behalf.”

Du Motian grew more shocked the more he heard Yang Feng speak. “What… Who even are you?”

Yang Feng did not answer. A follower entered from the outside, drenched. He spoke softly, “Lord Yang, that person is here.”

“Are you sure it is him?” Yang Feng asked.

“I saw him with my own eyes.”

Yang Feng stood up and said to Du Motian, “This rain ruined your ambush, and also nearly foiled my plans. But I am luckier than you. Do you really believe that someone from the pugilist world can reach the heavens with his hands?”[3]

Du Motian did not understand what Yang Feng was saying. “Don’t be smug. You have not passed Hangu Gate, nor have you reached the Capital.”

Yang Feng strode towards the exit of the room. He stopped at the doorway and said, “Keep them here for one night, and wait for the other ten men to rescue them. If they come, that is.”

Yang Feng left the room, and a follower immediately opened an umbrella to shelter him.

The sky grew dark and the rain had lightened. The courtyard was flooded a foot-deep, and Yang Feng waded through the water. He was guided by another follower, and there was nobody else by his side.

The waystation had received a new batch of new guests. They were military officers draped in armor. There were not many of them, just twenty, and they had obviously been hurrying through the rain. The were drenched, and rainwater could be seen flowing down from their armor.

The war with Qi was recently over, yet now war loomed in the north. It was common for military messengers to make their way to the Capital, so the station chief was not surprised to see those officers. He was busy making arrangements for their lodgings and for their horses.

Yang Feng walked to a room, where many soldiers stood on guard, their hands on their blades. They watched Yang Feng coldly. Even though they knew he was a eunuch, they paid him no respect.

Yang Feng clasped fists and said, “Please report that Palace Attendant Yang Feng wishes to see Grand Tutor Cui.”

The color on the soldiers’ faces turned sharply. One of them said, “There is no…”

Someone came out from the room and shut the soldier up with a glance. He said to Yang Feng, “Greetings, Lord Yang, how have you been?”

Indeed, it was Grand Tutor Cui Hong. Yang Feng’s nerves, which had been on edge, finally calmed down a little. He did not care about vengeance from the pugilist world, but his mind was completely occupied by Chunyu Qiong and Cui Hong. Now, he finally caught up to one of them in time.

“I have been waiting here for some time. I wish to say a few words to you, Grand Tutor. If you are willing to listen, then we may yet be able to return to the Capital in peace. If you are not —”

“Then what?”

“Then blood shall be spilled here and now.”

[1] These official waystations were placed at strategic spots around ancient China, mainly to provide a rest-stop for officials on the move or messengers who had permission to use these waystations.

[2] This is a play on Du Motian’s name. Mo-tian literally means touching the heavens, so Yang Feng says ironically that he cannot touch the heavens.

[3] This is still a play on Du Motian’s name, but with the added meaning that heaven also refers to the imperial court/palace/Emperor, and the pugilist world is lowly compared to the imperial court/palace/Emperor. So Yang Feng is wondering, can someone from the pugilist world really have such reach as to affect imperial politics or the Emperor himself? And here it is important to know that “pugilist world” or Jianghu, does not just include pugilist fighters, but also “caster-type” characters like wandering daoists, alchemists, fengshui masters, and yes, fortune tellers/fate seers.