he eyes of men?”

“Sixth Uncle Yin is a very good man,” said Zhang Wuji. “But if you do not like him, what is wrong with not marrying him? When I see Uncle Yin, I will ask him not to insist on it any longer.”

Ji Xiaofu could not help but smile miserably at the boy’s naive and simple view. “Child, I did not intentionally set out to do your Sixth Uncle Yin wrong,” she said gently. “I had no alternatives then, but … but now, I have no regrets about it either … ” Then, she thought: This child’s heart is like a blank piece of paper, so I had better not tell him about the intimate affairs between men and women. Besides, they do not seem to be related to the issue on hand.

Thus, she continued: “After falling out with Sister Ding, I did not return to E-mei again. Instead, I took Bu-er and went to Mount Shungeng, about three hundred li (150 km) west of Butterfly Valley, where we led carefree and peaceful lives among woodcutters and farmers for more than two years. Half a month ago, Bu- er and I went to town to buy cloth for some new clothes. There, I came upon a fresh chalk drawing of a small sword surrounded by rays of light in the corner of a wall. It was a coded call for disciples of the E-mei School. I became very frightened after seeing it, but I soon realised that it was not my fault for falling out with Sister Ding. I have also not done anything to deceive my teacher or betray my school. Therefore, I decided to answer the call, just in case it was left by a schoolmate in trouble. So, with Bu- er in hand, I followed the trail of drawings to Fengyang.

“Within Fengyang City itself, another drawing led us to the Linhuai Pavilion-Restaurant. There were already seven or eight members of the martial arts circle there, including Kongdong’s Jian Jie as well as Mount Hua’s Xue Gongyuan and his two brothers, but there were no E-mei disciples.

“I had met Jian Jie and Xue Gongyuan before, so I quickly found out from them that they too had followed the coded drawings of their respective clans all the way to Fengyang. But no one knew what the call was really about.

“After waiting for a day, no other E-mei disciples arrived. Instead, a few more pugilists from other organisations appeared, including those from the Clan of the Exquisite Fists (Shen2 Quan2 Men2) and the Beggars’ Gang (Gai4 Bang1). They too said that they had come to the Linhuai Pavilion- Restaurant after seeing the coded drawings of their respective organisations. Several more people turned up on the second day for the same reason, but the sender of these calls did not appear. Doubts crept into our hearts: Have we all been tricked by the enemy?

“By then, fifteen people from nine different clans had responded to this strange gathering in the Linhuai Pavilion-Restaurant. The coded drawings differed fron one organisation to another, of course, and each guarded its own closely. No one, except for the members of the clans themselves, knew what these marks meant. If this gathering was really a work of treachery, how could the enemy have known the secret symbols of nine different clans? Unwilling to put Bu- er at risk or see any of my schoolmates, I decided to go home. After all, it was clear that this was not a call for help.

“Just as I was about to leave the restaurant, loud tapping sounds were heard on the stairs, as if someone was coming up with the help of a pole or crutch. A series of coughs followed, and a silver-haired old woman with a hunched back came into view. She coughed painfully as she walked, supported by a young girl about twelve or thirteen years old. I moved aside at once, allowing the ill and elderly woman to come up the stairs first. Her young helper had a refined air and a pretty face. On the other hand, the old woman, with her bleached walking stick and plain clothes, looked like a poor peasant. Yet, she had a shiny rosary in her left hand. When I took a closer look, I realised that the beads of her rosary were actually plum blossoms made from yellow gold … ”

“So this old woman is the ‘owner of the golden flower’?” asked Zhang Wuji in surprise.

“That is right!” answered Ji Xiaofu with a nod. “But who would have thought of such a thing at that moment?” Reaching into her pocket, she brought out a small plum blossom made of gold. It looked exactly like the one that Zhang Wuji had shown Hu Qingniu barely a week earlier.

The boy was amazed, for he had expected the ‘owner of the golden flower’ to be a horribly vicious and terribly formidable man. Yet, according to Ji Xiaofu’s description, the enemy had turned out to be a sickly old woman.

Ji Xiaofu went on: “After the old woman reached the top of the stairs, she began to cough. The young girl said, ‘Grandmother, perhaps you should take some medicine.’ As the old woman nodded in agreement, the girl opened a small porcelain bottle and poured a medicinal pellet out. The old woman swallowed the pellet with much difficulty before saying a series of ‘Amitabha!’. Then, with her eyes half-closed, she mumbled, ‘Only fifteen … mmm, ask them: Has anyone from the schools of Wudang and Kunlun arrived?’

“No one had paid her much attention when she first came up the stairs, so everyone was taken aback by her sudden remarks. A few of the men turned around at once, but they quickly dismissed what they had heard at the sight of this old and senile-looking peasant woman. The young girl raised her voice and said, ‘Hey, my grandmother asks you: Has anyone from the schools of Wudang and Kunlun arrived?’ Shocked, no one answered her. After a while, Kongdong’s Jian Jie said, ‘Young lady, what did you just say?’ The girl answered with a question of her own: ‘My grandmother asks: Why are the disciples of Wudang and Kunlun not here?’ ‘Who are you?’ asked Jian Jie again. Just then, the old woman bent over and began another series of coughs.

“Suddenly, a strong gust of wind came towards my chest. I did not know where it had come from, but it was incomparably fast. I quickly raised my palm to deflect it, only to have my chest block up with nausea. I sank to the floor and threw up several mouthfuls of blood. As I struggled to get a grip on things, I saw the old woman floating across the room, sending a palm to the right and a fist to the left amidst a series of coughs. Within moments, the other fourteen men were all struck down. These sudden, swift and strong movements left us with no opportunity to fight back, for we either had our acupoints blocked or our internal organs injured. Then, the old woman’s left hand swept out and sent a gold blossom each into our arms. After that, she reached for the young girl, said ‘Amitabha!’ and hobbled down the stairs. It took quite a while before the tapping sounds of her walking stick and her coughs faded away.”

At that moment, Yang Buhui returned with a floral crown that she had made. “Mother, this is for you,” she said with a bright smile as she placed her handiwork on her mother’s head.

Ji Xiaofu smiled appreciatively before continuing with her tale: “By then, all fifteen of us lay weak and limp on the floor of the restaurant. A few could still mumble and curse in anger, but some could hardly breathe … ”

“Mother, are you talking about that horrible old woman?” asked Yang Buhui suddenly. “Do not talk about her, please. She frightens me.”

Comforting her daughter, Ji Xiaofu said, “Dear child, be good and go make another floral crown for Brother Wuji.”

Yang Buhui turned to Zhang Wuji and asked, “What colour would you like?”

“Red,” answered the boy. “And some white too. Make it as big as you can.”

Stretching her arms out, the little girl asked again, “Like this?”

“Yes, like that,” replied Zhang Wuji.

As she clapped her hands and skipped off, Yang Buhui said, “You had better wear it after I have finished.”

Then, Ji Xiaofu resumed her story: “As I sat in a daze, the manager, winekeepers, cooks and other workers of the restaurant appeared, and dragged all of us off into the kitchen. Poor Bu-er wailed in fright and followed me as I was taken away. By and by, the manager looked up a written list, pointed to Jian Jie and said, ‘Smear this ointment on his head.’ A winekeeper carried the instruction out, using a pre-determined concoction. The manager referred to his list again, pointed to another fellow and said, “Chop his right hand off, and connect it to his left arm.’ Two cooks brought out a sharp cleaver and executed the order. I was fortunate to be spared of physical torture, but I was forced to consume a bowl of sweet liquid. I knew that the drink was poisonous, yet I did not have the ability to resist.

“After the fifteen of us had been handed our strange punishments, the manager said, ‘You have been wounded seriously enough not to survive beyond half a month. But the owner of the golden flower says that she does not have any personal grudges against you. Thus, she has kindly provided you with a solution. You had better hurry to Butterfly Valley on the shores of Nüshan Lake and seek the help of the Healing Sage Hu Qingniu. If he is willing to treat you, your lives will be spared, for there is no one else in this world who knows how to cure your injuries. But this Hu Qingniu is also known as ‘The One who Ignores the Dying’, for he will not help anyone who is not in dire straits. Tell Hu Qingniu that the owner of the golden flower will go and look for him soon, and ask him to make early preparations for his own funeral!’ He concluded by giving us detailed directions to this place.”

“Auntie Ji, does this mean that the manager, cooks and winekeepers of the Linhuai Pavilion-Restaurant are accomplices of the horrible old woman?” asked Zhang Wuji.

“I think they are her subordinates,” answered Ji Xiaofu. “After all, the manager tortured us according to a list that was probably prepared by the wicked old woman herself. What I really do not understand is the reason behind her actions. If she had had any personal grievances against us, she could have had us killed with a mere finger. But if she wanted us to suffer intentionally by coming up with these terrible forms of torture, why then did she point us to Mr Hu for help? She has even declared that she will seek Mr Hu for revenge, so has she tormented us simply to test Mr Hu’s medical skills?”

Zhang Wuji thought for a moment and said, “Since this Old Woman of the Golden Flower is on her way here to make trouble for Mr Hu, it would only be right for him to cure your injuries. Then, everyone could stand together against this formidable foe. If that was not the case, he would not have taught me how to treat your injuries after making such a strong refusal to provide these treatments himself. The methods that he imparted to me have proven to be very effective, so it is clear that he wants to rescue all of you in the first place. What I really find puzzling is his act of poisoning all of you sneakily in the middle of the night. Why would he want you straddling between life and death?”

They discussed this question for a long time, but no one could come up with a likely answer. By and by, Yang Buhui appeared with a huge floral crown and set it on Zhang Wuji’s head.

Finally, the boy said, “Auntie Ji, you must not take any more medicine, except for those that are served personally by me. You must also keep a weapon by your side at night, just in case someone wants to harm you. But you cannot leave Butterfly Valley yet. You have to take a few more decoctions and wait until your internal injuries are completely healed before fleeing with Little Sister Buhui.”

Ji Xiaofu nodded in agreement. “Child, Mr Hu’s ways have proven to be quite unfathomable,” she added. “Thus, it is not a good idea for you to stay on with him. Perhaps, we should leave together.”

“I understand your concern,” said Zhang Wuji, “but he has actually been rather nice to me. He had initially planned to have me killed after removing the toxins in my body, but his treatments have failed. Therefore, he does not need to have me dispatched. I know that it is best that we leave immediately, but there are a few more aspects about the treatment of your injuries that I do not understand. I must ask Mr Hu about them.”

“He has already tried to poison me in secret,” said Ji Xiaofu, “so he will probably teach you the wrong methods on purpose.”

“That is not necessarily so,” answered Zhang Wuji. “The methods that Mr Hu has taught me so far have proven to be very effective. Besides, I can tell the difference between right and wrong. That is why this entire situation is so strange. I was initially unwilling to leave Mr Hu at the mercy of the Owner of the Golden Flower, but now, I see that he is just pretending to be ill.”

That night, Zhang Wuji did not go to sleep. At the third watch (between 11.00 p.m. and 1.00 a.m.), Hu Qingniu came out of his room just as the boy had expected, and sneaked into Ji Xiaofu’s shed to poison her. This went on for three days, but Ji Xiaofu did not take any of the poison that had been added to her medicine. Therefore, she progressed quickly towards full recovery. On the other hand, Jian Jie, Xue Gongyuan and the others alternated between recovery and deterioration. A few of the more bad-tempered men started to resent Zhang Wuji, saying that his medical skills were too poor. The boy paid them no attention, knowing that there was only one more night to go before he, Ji Xiaofu and her daughter would leave the place. Since the toxins in his own body could not be removed, he would not to return to Mount Wudang and bring grief to his grandteacher and uncles. Instead, he would find a remote place and pass quietly away.

Just before going to bed, Zhang Wuji began to feel sad about leaving Butterfly Valley early the next morning: Although Hu Qingniu is an eccentric man, he has been rather nice to me. If he had not provided treatment for my injuries, how could I have survived to this day? He has also taught me much about medicine and its practices in the past two years.

Therefore, the boy found himself making his way to the physician’s room to ask after him. Furthermore, he could not help but feel concerned that the Old Woman of the Golden Flower was on her way here to make trouble for the man. So, he asked, “Mr Hu, are you not bored of staying in Butterfly Valley? Why do you not go out and enjoy yourself for a bit?”

“I am ill, so how can I travel?” asked Hu Qingniu in return, somewhat surprised at the boy’s questions.

“We can use a mule-drawn carriage,” answered Zhang Wuji. “Just cover up the windows of the carriage with cloth, so that the wind does not enter. If you are willing to travel, I will accompany you.”

Hu Qingniu sighed and said, “Child, you are very kind. Although the world is big, it is a pity that every place is the same as the next. How has your chest been in the past few days? Has a chill been rolling about in your lower abdomen?”

“The chill worsens from day to day,” Zhang Wuji replied. “Since there is no cure for it, I have decided to let it run its course.”

Hu Qingniu was quiet for a moment, before saying, “Let me give you a medical prescription that will save your life. Decoct the Chinese Angelica, the root of the thin-leaved milkwort, the dried rhizome of Rehmannia, the Double Teeth Pubescent Angelica and the Divaricate Saposhnikovia Root with pangolin scales during the second watch of the night (9.00 p.m. to 11.00 p.m.). The brew must then be drunk immediately.”

Zhang Wuji was shocked, for the five herbs that the physician had prescribed had absolutely nothing to do with his condition. These herbs even counteracted one another. It was even more unbelievable to use pangolin scales as a supplement to increase the efficacy of the resulting decoction. Therefore, he asked, “Sir, what are the dosages that should be used?”

“The stronger the better,” snapped Hu Qingniu angrily. “I have already told you everything, so why are you still hanging around?”

The physician had always seen the boy as a student and friend whenever they talked about medical practices and herbs, so he had never shouted so rudely before. As a result, Zhang Wuji could not help but stomp angrily back to his room. I advised you in good faith to go on a trip so that you could avoid harm, he thought, but you scolded me instead. You even gave me a prescription that does not make sense! Do you think that I would fall for it?

As he lay in bed and went over what Hu Qingniu had said, a thought suddenly hit him: The Chinese Angelica, the root of the thin-leaved milkwort … how can these herbs be used in the strongest dosages possible? Unless … unless the Chinese Angelica — ‘Dang Gui’ — is actually meant to convey ‘gaidang guiqu’ — that ‘I should return home’?

Similar interpretations followed: The root of the thin-leaved milkwort is ‘Yuan Zhi’; it should mean ‘zhi zai yuanfang, gaofei yuanzou’ or ‘go as far away as possible’. The meanings of the dried rhizome of Rehmannia and the Double Teeth Pubescent Angelica cannot be any clearer, because ‘Sheng Di’ and ‘Du Huo’ mean ‘the place where one will be alive’ and ‘live on alone’ respectively. He is telling me that fleeing in this manner is the only way to survive the impending doom. What about the Divaricate Saposhnikovia Root or ‘Fang Feng’? Yes, it means ‘xu fang zoulou fengsheng’ or ‘take the necessary precautions to prevent this secret from leaking out’. As for using pangolin scales or ‘Chuan Shan Jia’ as a supplement during the second watch of the night and consuming the brew immediately after decoction, he is telling me ‘chuanshan taozou’ or ‘escape through the moutains’ during the second watch. I should not use the road that runs through the valley.

Hu Qingniu’s erroneous prescription began to make a lot of sense. As Zhang Wuji leapt out of bed, he thought: Mr Hu must have known that something terrible is about to happen, so he has kindly told me to leave at once. But the enemy has not arrived. Why then is he using this riddle, instead of speaking plainly? What if I fail to crack the code? The second watch has passed, so I had better hurry up and go. He figured that the physician probably had his own reasons for staying behind, with marvellous plans for dealing with the enemy. Although Hu Qingniu had asked him to ‘Fang Feng’ and ‘Du Huo’, Zhang Wuji could not leave without taking his Auntie Ji and her daughter along.

Thus, he crept quietly out of his room and headed into Ji Xiaofu’s shed. To his surprise, he found someone bent over the woman as she lay on a pile of straw. Dressed in a blue robe and square hat, with a piece of black cloth around his face, the intruder was none other than Hu Qingniu himself. Ten thousand questions entered the boy’s mind at once.

The physician pressed Ji Xiaofu’s cheeks with his left hand, forcing her mouth open, as he prepared to drop a medicinal pellet into it with his right. Zhang Wuji leapt out and said, “Mr Hu, you must not harm others … ”

The man released his grip and turned around in shock. Just then, Ji Xiaofu struck him hard on the back, sending him to the ground in a crumpled heap.

The piece of black cloth fell away, revealing a pair of trimmed eyebrows and a powdered face. The intruder was actually not Hu Qingniu, but a middle-aged woman instead.