Grand birthday celebration.
The following day was the beginning of the Heroes’ Summit. Guo Xiang had decided not to join the feast, so Huang Rong had instructed their kitchen workers to prepare some food for her to have her own feast. Guo Fu had been musing for several days on the possibilities as to how her husband would win the Beggar Clan Chief position, so her sister’s special feast was very far from her mind.
The Heroes’ Summit continued for the next several days. Among other things, they discussed plans on how to unite the valiant and patriotic men and women across the country; plans on how to disrupt the Mongolian troop’s swift movements, and plans on how to reinforce Xiangyang’s defenses. Everything was properly discussed. The attendees were itching to fight the enemy; they were impatient to slaughter the arriving enemy troops. Guo Jing was happy to see the group’s boldness even though he was aware of the strength of the Mongolian army for a long time; definitely not the match for these several thousands Jianghu people. Hence he could not avoid feeling anxious.
The Summit was concluded on the twenty-fourth of the third month, with a very satisfactory result. Just before the closing ceremony, everybody agreed to have the Beggar Clan Chief’s election around noon that very same day. And so it was, right after lunch, everybody headed toward the field used for military exercises on the west side. Upon arrival, they all saw a huge stage located right in the middle of the field. On and around the stage nothing was set, not a single chair. This was in accordance to the Beggar Clan rules and regulations, no matter how big or how small a meeting was, beggars could not lose their identity by sitting on chairs. Toward the south of the stage there were hundreds of chairs prepared for ‘outsiders’.
Before one o’clock there were more than two thousand Clan members sitting around the stage. They were the higher level members of the clan. The lowest grade was the fourth. According to the Clan bylaws, these two thousand some members were under the direction of four elders.
There were originally four Elders of the Beggar Clan, namely Elder Lu, Elder Jian, Elder Liang and Elder Peng. Lu Youjiao was promoted to be the Clan Leader, but met a tragic end just recently. Elder Peng had become a traitor and was killed by the Monk Ci’en. Elder Jian had died due to his old age and ailments. Therefore, Elder Liang held the highest position in the Clan. He had three eighth grade disciples as the newly appointed Elders assisting him.
The beggars ushered thousands of valiant men and women from the Heroes’ Summit to the chairs. Yelu Qi and his wife Guo Fu, Wu Dunru and his wife Yelu Yan, Wu Xiuwen and his wife Wanyan Ping and the other younger generation sat towards the back. They had trained hard for more than ten years and had achieved significant improvements; they secretly wondered if they would have any opportunity to show off their skills in front of the several thousands heroes that day.
Guo Polu was sitting next to his eldest sister, watching this magnificent setting with awe. He whispered, “Second Sister is so weird. Why doesn’t she come and attend this meeting?”
“What’s inside that ‘Little Eastern Heretic’s’ mind, nobody can guess,” Guo Fu snickered.
In not too long, an eighth grade disciple toward the east side stood up and blew a giant shell horn, “whooo … whooo … whooooo …!” It was the signal that the appointed time had come (it was between one and three in the afternoon).
While the sound of the horn was fading away, Huang Rong leaped on stage and bowed in all directions. She then began her oration with a loud and clear voice. “Today is the big meeting day of our clan. On behalf of the Beggar Clan, I would like to extend our gratitude and respect to all Seniors and Heroes who have made the effort to join us here.” She then bowed one more time, and the guests reciprocated.
“Our beloved leader, the late Chief Lu, was a wise and patriotic man, who devoted his life to the clan and our nation,” Huang Rong continued. “Unfortunately, he was cowardly attacked and killed by that scoundrel Hou Du at the Yang Tai Fu Temple over the hill yonder. This is an un-avenged deep resentment, not mentioning great disgrace to our Clan …”
These words created loud response from the Beggar Clan members. They remembered Lu Youjiao’s benevolent heart, his impartiality and his patriotism. They were very saddened by his death. Some were sobbing loudly, while the others cursed Hou Du uncontrollably.
After the commotion subsided, Huang Rong continued, “By keeping in mind that the Mongols might attack any moment, we have made the decision not to put our Clan’s need above that of our country. Therefore, we will hold the thought of revenge until a more appropriate time, and we will discuss this matter at length after we defeat the enemies.”
This statement was met by the unanimous approval of the beggars.
“With Chief Lu’s untimely death comes another more pressing matter,” Huang Rong said, “our Clan member’s number in the tens of thousands, scattered across the country. They cannot be left leaderless. Therefore, we have to elect a new Clan Chief, today. We need someone wise and benevolent, who knows martial arts as well as literature, and who will have the love and respect of our entire clan. As to how we are going to elect such leader, Little sister will have to ask Elder Liang to give us further instructions.”
In another moment Elder Liang stood ready on stage. His hair was silvery-white, but his body still erect and his movements fluid. This Elder was welcomed with loud cheering and applause from the audience. In this gathering of about four or five thousands attendees, the applause resembled the rumble of thunder in the middle of the day.
Elder Liang cupped his fists to thank the people for the applause and after it subsided he said, “Former Chief Huang is exceptionally intelligent. What she just said would not be incorrect. She was just being modest by asking the four elders plus the eight eighth grade members to decide on how to elect the new chief. What ability do we, twelve smelly beggars, have in such an important matter?”
Elder Liang paused for a few seconds. The field was quiet. Everybody was straining their ears to hear what this Elder had to say.
After sending his penetrating gaze across the field, Elder Liang continued, “In our humble opinion, even though the beggars are good for nothing, we do have a great number of members scattered throughout the country. As Former Chief Huang has mentioned, we cannot afford to be without a leader. We need a leader who is wise, benevolent and highly skilled in martial arts and literature. We believe with all of our hearts, that leaders like Former Chief Hong Qigong and Former Chief Huang are one in a million. Leaders like the late Chief Lu, who was loved by all of us. These are not easy to duplicate. Therefore, after a long and careful deliberation, we came to conclusion that the best course to take is to ask Former Chief Huang to get her feet wet and again lead our Clan.” Speaking to this point he paused again because the audience burst out in cheers and applause, even louder than the previous one. The audience thought, “A talented person of Huang Rong’s caliber is not easy to find in the world, let alone within the Beggar Clan.”
Elder Liang waited for the applause to subside; then he continued “If she refuses, then we’ll have to ask again and again. Unfortunately for us, we have a bigger problem threatening our country. The Mongolian armies are attacking Xiangyang and, as a devoted wife as well as a patriot, Former Chief Huang has to stand by the side of Chivalrous Hero Guo (Guo Da Xia) to defeat the enemy and defend our country. This is a formidable task to bear. Thus, if we bother Former Chief Huang with all the nitty-gritty business of the Beggar Clan, wouldn’t the people across the nation curse us stinky beggars until our deaths? And so, after careful consideration, we have made our final decision: Elect a new Chief.”
Elder Liang’s oration was received with nods across the field; the audience thought, “The Beggar Clan truly knows how to place important matters above their own; no wonder they’ve enjoyed the respect of the Jianghu people for hundreds of years.”
“As of now, inside our clan, we do not have someone capable of bearing the burden, and Former Chief Huang herself can not divide her attention for us,” Elder Liang resumed, “The only way we could think of was to invite someone outside our Clan to lead us. This special provision has happened before at the Mount Jun Summit, when we elected Former Chief Huang as our new Chief. As you are all aware, Former Chief Huang was not a member of our Clan. Needless to say, I was not alone in voicing our discontent and that resulted in a battle. What was the outcome? Ha-ha…! We were beaten and could not help but be subdued by her. Very fortunate for us, since once Former Chief Huang took the lead, our Beggar Clan has developed into a great Clan like the one you all see today. I remember…I can still see it clear as day…how at the Mount Jun Summit Former Chief Huang was still in her teens. By using a mere stick she beat us four Elders into submission. Ha! Now THAT was what I call a hero!” [the word ‘hero’ here is Ying Xiong – valiant person, not Xia of Da Xia]
Listening to him, everyone’s eyes turned involuntarily to Huang Rong. There were a number among the beggars who had attended the Mount Jun Summit. Their hearts were beating faster, as they saw in their minds what happened there when they were still very young.
“At today’s meeting we have the valiant people of the Jianghu world in attendance,” Elder Liang continued, “Any one of these valiant people deserves to be our leader. However, with so many valiant people around, we do not know how to pick one. Therefore, again after careful consideration, we twelve smelly beggars, decided on an election method that’s less than perfect. The method is this: We would like the heroes to show their skills on this stage. Who’s strong and who’s weak, will be evident to all.”
His speech was received with a soft murmur from the audience in every direction. Elder Liang continued, “But I want to stress one very important point. In today’s match, as soon as somebody is touched by an opponent, the match has to stop. If anybody is heavily injured or even dies here, we cannot bear the heavy responsibility. If any of you has any grudge against anybody else, we would ask that you do not try to solve the grudge on this stage. If you ignore this warning, then our Clan does not have any choice but to act accordingly.”
Having said this, he again sent his piercing gaze across the field. Elder Liang thought it was necessary to issue this warning, because if blood were involved in the election process, and valiant people fight violently with each other, then Guo Jing and Huang Rong’s effort to unite the country would be in vain. Elder Liang implied that whoever took any advantage to commit murder would be attacked by all the Beggar Clan’s members.
The valiant people in attendance today were aware that the Beggar Clan Chief election would be exciting; listening to Elder Liang’s speech they began to assess their own abilities. The Seniors, like clan or sect leaders, and those who had a high reputations in the Jianghu world, obviously did not want to fight over the Chief position. They had too many things at stake; not only the shame of defeat, but their reputation as well. Only those forty years and younger were excited and wanted to try. But since there were so many other valiant people around, plus the fact they had to win over the hearts of tens of thousands of beggars, nobody was bold enough to step up. They thought that to compete early meant they had to defeat more people.
After waiting some time, there were still no takers, then Elder Liang shouted, “Except for some Seniors and Heroes who live in seclusion, I can safely say that all the valiant people under the sky are gathered here. Whoever is willing to honor our Clan is welcome to give us a lesson or two. Our own Beggar Clan disciples who think they have some ability are also welcome to step up.”
After repeating his invitation several times there came a loud shout; “I am coming!” A shadow was seen jumping on to the stage. The audience was startled. This man was huge, like a giant, maybe over 300 jins; the stage swayed a little bit when he landed. Without showing any respect he put his hands on his hips and said with a loud voice, “I am the Thousand-Jin-Giant, Tong Dahai. I don’t want to be Clan Chief, but who ever want to fight let them come.”
Everybody laughed. They thought they would enjoy a funny show from this silly giant.
“Brother Tong,” said Elder Liang, smiling, “This stage is not a sparring ring. If Brother does not wish to become our Chief, then I would ask that you leave.”
Tong Dahai shook his big head, “This is obviously a sparring ring, who said it is not? If you don’t want a fight, why did you invite people up here?” Before Elder Liang had a chance to respond, he quickly said, “All right. Why don’t you fight me?” Having said this he immediately thrust his fist toward Elder Liang’s face.
Elder Liang leaped back, still smiling, “Brother Tong, I am an old man. How could I face your huge fist?”
The giant laughed heartily. With a delighted look on his face he said, “You go away …” but before he could finish his sentence, a shadow flashed by, and on that stage stood a beggar with ragged clothes.
That beggar was around thirty years of age and had six bags on his back. He was one of Elder Liang’s own grand martial disciples. He was also a rash man that could not contain himself upon seeing Tong Dahai being disrespectful toward his Grand Martial Master. “Brother Tong, you are not worthy to fight my Grand Martial Master,” he said, “Let me join you for three stances.”
“Nothing better than that!” the giant shouted, and without asking the beggar’s name, he thrust his fist toward the beggar’s chest, “Watch out!”
The beggar turned his back and “smack!” that fist hit the sack on his back.
Tong Dahai felt his fist was hitting something soft and slippery. “What’s inside your bag?” he asked.
The beggar snickered. “What’s a beggar’s usual catch?” he asked in response.
Tong Dahai was shocked. “Snake …!” he cried.
“Yes, it’s a snake!” the beggar answered.
Tong Dahai was half disgusted and half furious. He sent another fist toward the beggar’s face. But the beggar was quick. In a flash he leaped high into the air and did a somersault and again turned his back toward the giant.
Tong Dahai was afraid the snake would bite him, or perhaps his fist would hit the snake’s fangs; his movements became awkward since he was trying to avoid hitting the beggar’s back. He delivered a right foot kick instead. The beggar knew the giant was afraid and he wanted to have some fun. While rolling himself on the stage, he quickly took his backpack and placed it on his calf. Actually the snake inside his bag was tame, and it had no venomous teeth, but Tong Dahai did not know this. He was getting anxious because his attacks gave him no desirable results. Suddenly the beggar’s right hand grabbed his chest. “Wu Zixu lifts high the Thousand-Jin-Giant [play of words: ‘wu zi’ means ‘five kids’],” he said, and lifted the giant’s body high in the air.
Because the ‘zi gong’ [purple palace] accupoint on his chest was sealed, Tong Dahai was helpless, and the audience burst into laughter.
“Let him go! Don’t be rude!” barked Elder Liang, but he could not help laughing too.
“All right,” the beggar complied. He let the giant go, and jumping down from the stage, he vanished amongst the crowd.
Tong Dahai’s face was purple with rage; he was embarrassed and angry at the same time. “Stinky beggar!” he cursed, “Come! Let’s fight again with weapons. What good is running away like that? Stinky Beggar! Sickly Beggar!” The beggars just laughed, and nobody paid him any attention.
Suddenly, another shadow leaped in, and when his left foot reached the stage, he staggered like he was going to fall down.
Tong Dahai was reckless, but not wicked. He shouted, “Watch out!” and immediately moved forward to hold the man. It turned out that the man was only pretending. He wanted to show off in front of all the valiant people. He quickly grabbed the giant’s hand, and pushed with the ‘The Heavenly King Falling Down’ move [dao die jin gang]. Tong Dahai’s body was thrown to the ground. The audience looked at that neatly dressed, long eye-browed handsome young man, who was none other than Wu Xiuwen, Guo Jing’s disciple.
Guo Jing – who sat on the front row, was irritated with Wu Xiuwen’s behavior; his countenance changed. And he was not alone. But before he could do anything, shouts were heard from east and west of the stage: “Good martial arts! Let me accept a lesson or two from you!” “What did you do?” “You repaid kindness with rudeness.” Three men had jumped on stage.
At that time, Wu Xiuwen could be regarded as a first class fighter among the younger generation. Not only had he received tutelage from Guo Jing and Huang Rong, but also the Solitary Yang Finger from his own father and martial uncles. Seeing three men on stage, he was delighted. “Let me beat them once and for all,” he thought.
He didn’t want those three to take turns fighting him, so without saying anything he attacked all three of them. Those three had just landed their feet on the stage, and were attacked before they could get a firm footing. No wonder they wavered and could not defend themselves. Xiuwen didn’t give them a chance. Quick as a flash his fists flew around so that those three felt like they were under a heavy rain of fists. They tried to retaliate, but ended up hitting each other. The audience was surprised and impressed. “Guo Da Xia is really a hero without peer,” they thought, “his disciple is so fierce.”
Those three counter-attacked again and again, but still could not get out from under Wu Xiuwen’s fists.
Wanyan Ping saw her husband had the upper hand and could not help but feel so proud.
“Of course those three dummies are not Brother Xiuwen’s match,” said Guo Fu. “Why did he go on stage and waste his energy for nothing? When someone with a really high skill shows up later, wouldn’t it be difficult for him to beat them?”
Wanyan Ping was gentle by nature; she only smiled and ignored Guo Fu. Yelu Yan, on the other hand, was more straightforward. She was the sister of Yelu Qi, thus the sister-in-law of Guo Fu. Hearing Guo Fu’s remark –she understood very well what it meant- she could not hold her peace any longer. “This situation actually fits you very well,” she snickered. “Young Wu beats several people, and when somebody beats him, Dunru will go next and beat some more. And finally my brother will go and beat the rest of the competitors. Then Sister-in-law can be Mrs. Clan Chief with little effort.”
Guo Fu blushed. “There are so many valiant people here, and they all want to be Clan Chief,” she said with embarrassment in her voice, “how could you say ‘with little effort?”
“Actually, my brother does not even have to go on stage,” Yelu Yan continued.
“Why so?” Guo Fu was curious.
“Didn’t you hear Elder Liang?” her sister-in-law asked. “When the Beggar Clan Mount Jun Summit was held, Mistress was only in her teens. Wielding only a bamboo stick she subdued everybody and became the Clan leader. They say ‘the apple fell not far from the tree’; Sister-in-law, I think you’d better go on stage. I believe you have a better chance than my brother to be the Beggar Clan Chief.”
“Such a sharp tongue! You dare to mock me! Good!” Guo Fu shouted, attacking her sister-in-law’s armpit. Yelu Yan leaped backward. “Clan Chief! Help!” she called out, laughing hard. “Mrs. Clan Chief wants to kill me!”
By this time Guo Fu, Xiuwen and Dunru were already over thirty years of age, and Yelu Yan and Wanyan Ping had children. But they still liked to fool around like kids.
In the meantime, Huang Rong – who sat next to Guo Jing, was always alert. She kept looking around the field, to see if any strangers had sneaked in. She had instructed several Beggar Clan members to guard the area and report to her immediately if they saw anything out of ordinary. She was still worried that Shenying Shitay, Han Wugou, Zhang Yimang and the others would show up and create a disruption. But till the end of eighth hour entering the ninth hour [i.e. around 3-4 o’clock in the afternoon] everything was still under control.
“Why would those weirdoes gather in Xiangyang?” she asked herself. “Something should have been happening by now. It’s beyond me that they would come over just to wish Xiang’er a happy birthday.” She lowered her head and sighed. Her intelligence could not penetrate this mystery.
Another time she lifted her head and watched the match on the stage. Xiuwen had defeated two competitors, and looked like the third would not hold him much longer. “Today the valiant people of the world are competing for the Clan Chief position,” she thought, “I wonder who will hold this prestigious position?”
Of course the same question had been hovering in everybody’s mind.
Except … in the Chinese peony pavilion [shao yao ting] behind the Guo’s Family Mansion, there was somebody who did not show the slightest interest in what was happening on the field. She sat alone daydreaming, with many questions in her heart. “That day I gave him one golden needle and specifically asked him to see me today. Today is my sixteenth birthday. That day, he gave me his promise. Why doesn’t he show up?”
She was sitting on a porch, leaning against a doorpost. The sun slowly crept to the west. “It’s already afternoon. Even if he comes, we will meet for only half a day at most,” she said softly to herself.
She looked at the flowerbeds, while her little fingers held the last golden needle. She sighed and with an almost inaudible voice said again, “I can ask him one last favor … ah…! I think he has already forgotten me. He doesn’t even remember his promise for today. What other favor I could ask?” Another moment later she had another thought, “It’s impossible. He wouldn’t forget his promise. He is a chivalrous hero (Da Xia) of the world, and he must always keep his word. Just wait … he’ll be here.” With this thought, her face turned pink and the fingers that hold the golden needle were shaking a little bit.
She sighed again. One thought kept coming back. “Even though he is a chivalrous hero, and he always keeps his word, I am only a young girl,” she thought, heart beating faster. “If he made a promise to Father, he would not fail to keep his word. But to me, I am only the ‘Young Eastern Heretic’ (Xiao Dong Xia) Guo Xiang. What am I worth in his eyes? Only a young girl! It’s very possible that when he remembered his promise, he would only laugh and said: Ah! Don’t bother!”
While Guo Xiang was busy thinking in the Chinese peony pavilion, Huang Rong, on the field, could not keep her second daughter off her mind. “According to Brother Jing, there were only two persons in this whole wide world who had the internal energy high enough to help Fu’er and Xiang’er back at the Yang Tai Fu temple,” she thought. “If not the Benevolent Master Hong Qigong, then it must be Brother Jing himself. The fact is, the Benevolent Master had passed away, and Brother Jing didn’t do it. Who could it be that invited those strange characters to wish Xiang’er a happy birthday? Old Urchin Zhou Botong loves to fool around, but even he could not make this meticulous plan. Reverend Yideng? Not likely; he is a monk. Western Poison Ouyang Feng and Monk Ci’en Qiu Qianren both have passed away. Could it be … Father?”
Huang Rong had not seen her father for more than ten years. Huang Yaoshi was like a wandering cloud or a wild crane, roaming Jianghu; nobody knew his whereabouts. She thought the peculiarity of this mystery went well with her father’s character. For a long time the name, Huang Yaoshi, had been well known in the Jianghu world, and people called him the ‘Eastern Heretic’. His peculiar way of thinking went very well with those weird people. So if the ‘Old Heretic Huang’ asked, they would certainly oblige.
Having this thought, Huang Rong’s heart beat faster and her countenance brightened. True, it was not appropriate for a grandfather to make jokes with his granddaughter. But Huang Yaoshi did not follow ‘appropriateness’, the custom and regulations of the day. He was like a heavenly dragon that was out of this world. Huang Rong was his daughter, but even she could not predict what he would do. Could it be that this grandfather had invited guests to congratulate his granddaughter? She held this train of thought and asked Guo Fu. “When she returned from those two days of being missing at Fenglingdu, did she mention Grandfather’s name?”
“No. Sister has never even seen Grandfather.”
“Think hard,” urged her mother. “She left Fenglingdu and went with Xishan Ghosts, did your sister ever mention anybody else?”
“No,” she answered, shaking her head.
Of course Guo Fu knew that her sister went to see Yang Guo. It was all right with her mother, but if her father ever heard that name, he would turn sour and wouldn’t talk to her for two or three days. Therefore, while Guo Xiang herself didn’t mention Yang Guo, Guo Fu certainly was not willing to look for trouble.
Huang Rong saw her daughter’s countenance change and she knew Guo Fu was hiding something from her. “This is not a simple matter,” she said. “If you know anything, you’d better tell me.”
Guo Fu did not dare to hold back anymore. “That day we heard people were talking about the Eagle Hero, which is Yang … Yang … Yang Guo,” she said. “After listening to their stories, Sister insisted she wanted to see him.”
Huang Rong was startled. “Did Xiang’er meet him?” she asked.
“Of course not,” came the answer. “If she did, she wouldn’t stop bragging about it.”
“Guo’er … Guo’er …” mumbled Huang Rong softly. “Is it him?” She turned to her daughter and continued, “Fu’er, what do you think? Was it him who killed Nimoxing at the Yang Tai Fu Temple?”
“How could it be him?” Guo Fu answered, “How could Yang … Yang Da Ge [big brother Yang] have this kind of martial art?”
“What did you and your sister talk about in the Yang Tai Fu Temple? Tell me all, don’t skip anything,” Huang Rong said.
“It was nothing important,” Guo Fu said, “Mei zi [little sister] loves to bicker with me.” And then she narrated how her little sister didn’t want to attend the Heroes Summit, didn’t want to see the Beggar Clan Chief election, and how she told her that a very handsome hero would visit her on her birthday. Finally, she laughed and said, “Her friends did indeed come to visit. But they are monks, priestesses, grandpas and grandmas. Where is that handsome hero?”
Now Huang Rong was convinced that the handsome hero could not be anybody else but Yang Guo. She thought Guo Xiang and Yang Guo had made an appointment to meet at the Yang Tai Fu Temple, but that plan was foiled by Guo Fu. Then, to vent his anger Yang Guo had invited several Jianghu characters to wish Guo Xiang a happy birthday. “But … why would he spend so much time and energy just for a kid like Xiang’er?” she asked herself. Suddenly she remembered Guo Xiang’s extraordinary behavior. She remembered how Guo Xiang liked to daydream, talked to herself, and her countenance turned pink for no reason. Huang Rong shuddered involuntarily. Her heart pounding, she thought, “We are doomed! Yang Guo hates me because I caused his father’s death; he hates Fu’er who chopped off his arm, he hates Fu’er even more for striking Xiao Longnü with a poison needle. Xiao Longnü promised to meet him sixteen years later, and now it is sixteen years later. Aiyo! Yang Guo is coming to exact his revenge.”
Once the thought ‘Yang Guo is coming to exact his revenge’ came into her mind, cold sweat trickled down her spine. She knew Yang Guo’s behavior was completely unpredictable; his love for Xiao Longnü was very deep. If he had waited sorrowfully for sixteen years and Xiao Longnü did not show up, he might unleash his anger and frustrations at the Guo family. After sixteen years it would not be enough just to kill Guo Fu; he must have another evil scheme in his mind. “Could it be that Guo Xiang was his target? Making her fall in love with him, then crushing her heart so she would suffer for the rest of her life? Well, with Yang Guo’s personality, that was very possible.” Once she finished her train of thought, she came to a conclusion: Yang Guo killed Nimoxing to save Guo Xiang’s life, then he sent several strange characters to wish her a happy birthday; his intention was to win her heart.
“But … something is not right!” her brain clicked again. “Today is Xiang’er’s sixteenth birthday. It was several months after Xiang’er was born that he parted with Xiao Longnü in the Passionless Valley. If he wanted to exact revenge, he would’ve waited for a full sixteen years, just like his wife had promised him … Although this sixteen-year appointment is questionable, that message was obviously her own handwriting. Who can tell if the two of them, husband and wife, will or will not see each other again? But my father … and the ‘Divine Nun of the South Sea’ [Nan Hai Shen Ni] …” The longer she thought, the more muddled her mind became. “Ah! Whatever happens, Xiang’er should not be allowed to see him,” she thought. “Xiang’er is just a child, she is too naïve for man’s wickedness.”
Suddenly an “Aiyo!” was heard from the stage. Huang Rong turned her gaze there and she saw Xiuwen’s palm strength had sent a fat monk down from the stage. She approached her husband and whispered, “You wait here. I am going to see Xiang’er.”
“Isn’t Xiang’er here?” asked her husband.
“I will bring her here,” she