Chapter 6 – Seven Story Buddhist Pagoda (2/2)
Sima gave a cold laugh. “You know which person. The reason you told me not to give chase is because you were afraid of him.”
Zhuo Donglai stood and walked to the window. He opened it, closed it, then turned to face Sima.
“There are many great masters in the martial world, and many unique skills. When two experts face each other, victory and defeat is usually determined by their current situation and circumstances. Ever since Little Li’s Flying Dagger went into retirement, there are almost no truly unmatched experts left.”
“Almost none left? Or absolutely none left?”
“I can’t be certain.” Zhuo Donglai’s voice seemed a bit hoarse. “But someone once told me that in one of the lesser known places of the world, there is a person like that.”
“Who?” Sima Chaoqun seemed suddenly excited. “Who is this person?”
“He is surnamed Xiao. The same character Xiao as the line from the poem, ‘the desolate waters of the river Yishui.’ His full name is Xiao Leixue.” (5)
**
“The ghastly aura of the sword, the desolate waters of the river Yishui,
Heroes shed no tears, their tears become righteous shed blood.”(6)
Gao Jianfei thought he must be sleeping. It had happened when he had started to unwrap his sword. He had suddenly fallen into a dream and flew up into the air.
Actually, he really couldn’t tell what was a dream and what was real. When someone uses a delicate and ingenious method to seal your pressure points and send you into unconsciousness, you will usually be like this.
When he awoke, he heard someone singing softly. Within the quiet singing there seemed to be the ghastly spirit of a sword, and an indescribable, desolate melancholy.
“The wanderer sings three songs, and sings only for heroes;
The wanderer never settles down, the heroes shed no tears.”
**
The singing stopped suddenly, and the singer slowly turned around. A waxen, yellow face; a pair of tired, expressionless eyes; a set of simple gray clothes.
A quiet and ordinary person, whose hand clasped a solitary, old-fashioned, ordinary box.
Part 5
“Xiao Leixue!”
The cold alcohol burned like fire in Sima Chaoqun’s heart and veins. And yet his heart was not warm. “What kind of person is he? Have you ever seen him?”
“I haven’t. No one has ever seen him. Even if someone saw him, they wouldn’t know who he was.”
Part 6
The wind blew, urgent and cold. It was very urgent, and extremely cold.
They were up high, on the top level of the great seven story Buddhist pagoda.
“It’s you. You again.” Gao Jianfei looked around disappointedly. “Who are you anyway? Why did you bring me to another damn place like this?”
“This place isn’t damned. But if I hadn’t brought you here, someone’s soul would have been damned. A soul dead and damned.”
“And the dead, damned soul would be me?” (7)
“Yes.”
“How do you know I would have died?”
“Because of your sword.”
In the man’s tired, expressionless eyes, there seemed to suddenly shine a bit of light. Just like the star that hangs forever on the horizon of the far north; remote, mysterious, and bright.
“Past events vanish like smoke; the famous swords of the past are buried deep. That sword of yours is an unparalleled weapon. No sword in the past five hundred years could match up to it.”
“Oh?”
“The person who made it was the first great master to appear after Ou Yezi, and was also the greatest swordsman of his time.(8) But in his entire life, he never used this sword. In fact, he never even unsheathed it for others to see.”
“Why?”
“Because the sword is too terrible. If it is unsheathed, it must drink human blood.”
His face was expressionless, covered as it was with wax-like disguise material. But in his eyes could be seen an unspeakable sadness.
“When this sword came out of the forge, the master could see its evil air, an incurable evil. And thus, he couldn’t help but shed tears. The tears dropped onto the sword, and left behind tearstains.”
“So that’s where the tearstains on the sword come from?”
“Yes.”
“If the master could see the demonic air of the sword, why didn’t he just destroy it?”
“Because the sword was created too perfectly. Who in the world,” he said, “would have the heart to take the perfect result of painstaking effort, and simply destroy it? Besides, after the sword left the forge, it became a magical weapon. Perhaps you could destroy its form, but not its spirit. And sooner or later, what it required would be paid.”
Little Gao finally understand what he meant. “There are some things in heaven and earth that cannot be exterminated.”
“And so, if you drew the sword today, then you would die under it. Because today, you were definitely not a match for Sima Chaoqun.” He stared at Little Gao. “Now you should be able to understand, the duel may be fair, but not completely.”
“Oh?”
“When a person reaches a certain point, and gains enough power, they can create situations to weaken an opponent’s power, and ensure their own victory. This type of thing usually leads others into extreme misery.” It was a fact. A cruel and ruthless fact.
Little Gao had no ability to offer denial. Because now he was finally beginning to see clearly, to learn the lesson of heartbreak.
“Therefore, if you really want to go up against Sima Chaoqun, the only method is to catch him by surprise, to assassinate him. Because you will never truly have an opportunity to have a fair fight with him.
Little Gao clenched his fists.
“Why are you telling me these things,” he asked. “Why did you save me?”
“I didn’t kill you, and I don’t want you to die by another’s hand.”
“And you don’t want this sword to fall into another’s hand.”
“Correct.” His answer was very straightforward.
“But you already have the most fearsome weapon in the world,” said Little Gao. “Don’t tell me you want this sword too?”
“I don’t,” he replied coolly. “If I wanted it, it would be mine already.”
Little Gao couldn’t argue with this point. “Then, what relationship do you have with it? Is there some special connection between you and the sword?”
The man’s hand suddenly shot forward and grasped Little Gao’s wrist.
Little Gao began sweating, a cold, painful sweat that covered his whole body.
He knew that he had touched his person, touched his heart in a way that he did not wish to be touched.
How could a person as strong and callous as this have a weak spot in his heart?
“Your box and my sword are both products of the same hand. Do you and I also have some special connection? Why don’t you tell me the truth?”
Little Gao had to ask these questions, even if his wrist shattered. He had to ask.
Unfortunately, he didn’t get an answer.
The man had already let go of his wrist, and flown away.
A sheet of silvery white surrounded the giant pagoda; the man and his box disappeared like a snowflake into the whiteness.
**
The sky was beginning to darken. Little Gao stood there for a long time, thinking. There were many things he just couldn’t figure out.
He could not collect his thoughts.
No matter what he started thinking about, he couldn’t help but end up thinking about her.
—Who was she? Where did she come from? Where did she go?
—Who were the people trying to kill her? Did she really meet him because Sima Chaoqun wanted her to, because he wanted Little Gao to fall in love with her?
—Did she really leave because Sima Chaoqun wanted her to? In order to make Little Gao heartbroken and hopeless?
Regardless, Little Gao was determined to find her, and make things clear.
But, there was no way to find her.
He had no idea where to even start looking.
He was a young person making his way for the first time in Jianghu, with no experience, no friends, no one to help him. What was he supposed to do?
Other than using his sword to kill people, what was he capable of?
Who could he kill? Who should he kill?
Who could tell him?
**
The sky grew darker, the evening bell had sounded, and the fragrant aroma of congee and rice wafted up from the kitchen in the rear courtyard. A few monks, late to arrive, hurried back in their cleats to catch their evening meal.
The cleats treading on the ice and snow made Little Gao suddenly think of Zhu Meng.
Zhu Meng in Luoyang.
**
(1) Gao Zong was an emperor of the Tang dynasty. He built the pagoda when he was emperor. But his mother’s posthumous title was Empress Wendeshunsheng (literally “the civil, virtuous, serene, and holy empress) or Empress Wende.
(2) Xuan Zang is of course the famous monk who’s journey was the inspiration for the Chinese Classic “Journey to the West.”
(3) The word used here to describe his clothes as black and white is an idiom that can also imply knowing the difference between right and wrong.
(4) Here is a little play on words, since his name “Jianfei” means to fly up gradually.
(5) Xiao Leixue’s name is pretty unique, and doesn’t sound like a real person’s name. The Xiao part is a common surname, but the character itself also means “desolate or dreary,” as Zhuo Donglai emphasizes when he explains which “xiao” character it is. Incidentally, that poem is from the Song Dynasty, and is a relatively sad poem written to a departing loved one. The Leixue part of his name contains two characters. The first is 泪 as in “tears.” The second is 血 as in “blood.” So his given name could also be literally translated as “Tears of Blood” or “Blood Tears.”
(6) Okay, I apologize, but after knocking my head against the wall for, well for a while, I couldn’t think of a really good colloquial way to translate the Chinese here. And the literal translation just doesn’t make sense in English, and doesn’t sound cool. There is some word play based on the expression 见鬼 jian gui, which literally means to see a ghost, but is usually translated as a mild epithet such as damn, or hell, or something like that. You see this expression in the subtitles of English movies a lot. The original Chinese is better than my translation, and here is how it would be literally translated: “Why did you suddenly again bring me to a ‘see a ghost’ place like this?” “You cannot see ghosts in this place. But if I didn’t bring you to this place, you would see a ghost. A newly dead ghost.” “This newly dead ghost is me?”
(7) Ou Yezi was a famous sword maker from the Spring and Autumn period