Will the encounter while lion-slaying cause a calamity?

Lu Zhangke’s sneak attack came when Zhang Wuji was resisting the combined power of eighteen foreign monks. The internal energy protecting his body, which formed a barrier on his back, was removed. As a result, the Xuanming cold poison entered his body without resistance and hence his injury was really heavy. He sat cross-legged and circulated the Jiu Yang energy three times around his system. After vomiting two mouthfuls of blood, he felt the constriction in the pit of his stomach loosened somewhat. As he opened his eyes, he saw Zhao Min was looking at him with anxious expression on her face.

“Miss Zhao,” Zhang Wuji said in tender voice, “You are suffering greatly.”

“Are you still calling me ‘Miss Zhao’ after all this?” Zhao Min asked, “I am no longer a royalty, I am not a ‘Junzhu’ anymore. You … are you still regarding me as a little witch in your heart?”

Zhang Wuji slowly stood up. “Let me ask you one question, please answer me truthfully” he said, “Did you or did you not cut the sword wounds on my cousin Yin Li’s face?”

“I did not!” Zhao Min answered.

“Then whose malicious hand did it?” Zhang Wuji asked.

“I cannot tell you,” Zhao Min said, “If you can find Xie Daxia, he can tell you all the details.”

“My Yifu knows all the details?” Zhang Wuji wondered.

“Your internal injury has not been healed yet, asking too much question is harmful to your peace of mind,” Zhao Min said, “Let me tell you one thing: if after your careful investigation you can prove that it was I who harmed Miss Yin, you don’t need to make any move. I will kill myself in your presence to make amends.”

Listening to her speaking with confidence, Zhang Wuji had no choice but to believe her. He was silent for half a day before saying, “Looks like there was a martial art master hiding in the Persian Ming Cult ship. Using some kind of demonic method, he sneaked out in the middle of the night and drugged us all, harmed my cousin, and stole the Yitian Sword and the Tulong Saber. After rescuing Yifu, we need to go to Persia and inquire with Xiao Zhao.”

Zhao Min pursed her lips and laughed. “You just want to see Xiao Zhao,” she said, “Hence you fabricate some story to give you the reason to do so. Listen to me: don’t indulge in fantasy, the sooner your injury is healed, the sooner we can go to the Shaolin Temple to pay them a visit.”

“Shaolin Temple?” Zhang Wuji was surprised, “What do we do there?”

“Saving Xie Daxia, of course,” Zhao Min replied.

“Is my Yifu in the Shaolin Temple?” Zhang Wuji was even more surprised, “How can he be in Shaolin Temple?”

“It’s a complicated story, and I don’t claim to know all the details,” Zhao Min said, “But I am quite certain Xie Daxia is in the Shaolin Temple. Did I tell you one of my warriors became a monk in the Shaolin Temple? He sacrificed his life to bring me news.”

“Why did he sacrifice his life?” Zhang Wuji asked.

Zhao Min said, “In order to bring me proof, my informant tried to cut a bunch of Xie Daxia’s yellow hair. But the Shaolin Temple guarded Xie Daxia very strictly. After cutting Xie Daxia’s hair, my informant went out the temple, bit in the end he was spotted and had to receive two palm strikes. He struggled to deliver the hair into my hand, and died not too long afterwards.”

“Hey! How fierce!” Zhang Wuji exclaimed. It was not clear however, whether his ‘how fierce’ exclamation was praising Zhao Min’s operation, or was referring to the danger of the situation.

Because his mind was upset, his internal condition was affected that he vomited another mouthful of blood. Zhao Min anxiously said, “If I knew the severity of your injury, I would have not continually vexed you like this. I am not going to talk to you anymore.”

Zhang Wuji sat down with his back on a large mountain rock. He tried hard to focus his attention and calm his mind, but there was simply too much in his mind that he was unable to do so. “Shaolin Shen Seng [divine monk] Kong Jian was killed by my Yifu’s ‘qi shang quan’ [seven-injury fist],” he said, “The Shaolin monks and disciples, from top to bottom, have been waiting for more than twenty years to seek vengeance. Furthermore, that Cheng Kun has become a monk in the Shaolin Temple. Since my Yifu has fallen into their hands, how can he keep his life?”

“Don’t worry,” Zhao Min said, “There is something that will keep Xie Daxia alive.”

“What thing?” Zhang Wuji hastily asked.

“The precious Tulong saber,” Zhao Min replied.

Zhang Wuji’s mind was stirred, and he understood. The Tulong Saber was known as the ‘most revered in the Wulin world’. The Shaolin Pai had been leading the martial art world for the last several hundred years, of course they would want to get their hands on this valuable saber. For the sake of this saber, they would not easily harm Xie Xun’s life, but disgrace and humiliation would be difficult to avoid.

Zhao Min continued, “I am thinking that the matter of rescuing Xie Daxia should be handled quietly by just the two of us. The Ming Cult is full of heroes, but if we carried out a large scale attack against Shaolin, the damage to both sides will be heavy. Supposing the Shaolin Pai is not able to defend against the Ming Cult’s attack, they might not want to keep Xie Daxia, maybe they would resort to deceit and begin to harm him.”

Listening to her thorough consideration, Zhang Wuji was very appreciative. “Min Mei [younger sister], you are right.”

It was the first time Zhang Wuji had ever called her ‘Min Mei’. Zhao Min felt unspeakable sweetness in her heart; but immediately her parents’ kindness and her brother’s love came into her mind, which, from this time on, were no longer hers. She could not stop the sweetness turn to bitter.

Zhang Wuji understood her feelings, but he felt inadequate to offer any consolation. He merely mused, “She had entrusted herself fully to me, how can I ever repay her affectionate kindness? Zhiruo is engaged to me, how can I let her down? Ay! Right now, the most important thing is trying to save Yifu; this kind of man-woman love relationship has to be set aside.” He exerted his strength to stand up. “Let us go!” he said.

Zhao Min saw that his complexion was ash-grey, she knew his injury was really not light. Slightly knitting her beautiful brows, she thought aloud, “My Father loves me very much; he won’t give us any trouble. I am only afraid Gege will not let us go. As soon as he can have an excuse to leave Father, he would definitely send people to take us back within these next four hours [orig, two ‘shichen’s – 1 ‘shichen’ is 2 hours].”

Zhang Wuji nodded. He had noticed how firm Wang Baobao handled his affairs; he was truly not an easy person to deal with, he certainly would not give up easily. Presently, both he and Zhao Min were injured; it looked like their journey west to Shaolin would be very slow and full of obstacles. Other than that, they did not have any plan.

“We must leave this dangerous place immediately,” Zhao Min said, “We can stop again when we get to the foot of the mountain.”

Zhang Wuji nodded and he walked toward the horses with faltering steps. But when he was going to mount the horse, he felt a severe pain in the pit of his stomach, and did not have enough strength to climb up. Zhao Min bit her lips and exerted her strength on her right arm to give him a boost. But as she was doing that, the knife stab wound on her abdomen opened up and quite a lot blood seeped out. She also struggled to climb up the horse and sat behind Zhang Wuji. At first it was Zhang Wuji who supported her, now she had to wrap up her arms around his to support him up. Both of them had to stop for half a day to catch their breaths before they finally let the horse went forward. The other horse followed behind them.

Two people sharing a ride went down the mountain. They traveled along the main road, turning slightly to the east to avoid meeting Wang Baobao. After walking for a while, they turned toward a small pathway. They were feeling slightly relieved, since they thought that even if Wang Baobao dispatched some people to pursue, they would not easily find this small and remote pathway. They will have more chance of escaping when the sky turned dark and they entered deeper into the mountain.

While riding leisurely, suddenly they heard hoof beats from behind; a pair of riders galloped near. Zhao Min’s countenance sank; she tightened her hold on Zhang Wuji’s waist while saying, “My Gege comes very quick. It’s just our cruel fate, in the end we can’t escape from his cruel hands. Wuji Gege, let me go home with him. I am going to ask Father earnestly that we will see each other again later. As eternal and unchanging as the universe, let us not fail each other.”

With a bitter smile Zhang Wuji said, “Your honorable brother might not necessarily be willing to let me go.”

Just as he was saying that, the riders had come within several dozens ‘zhang’s behind them. Zhao Min held the rein to let the riders pass. She pulled her dagger out, thinking that if they had a chance, they would escape, but if her brother had made up his mind to kill Zhang Wuji, then the two of them would die together. However, when the two riders came near, they did not even slow down. They were wearing Mongolian soldiers’ uniform. They galloped passed them, giving them only a quick glance, and continued forward.

Zhao Min had just mused, “Thank Heaven and thank the Earth. Turned out they are only two low-ranking soldiers, not our pursuers.” When she saw those two Yuan soldiers held their reins to slow down their horses, talked to each other, and suddenly turned their horses around and returned toward the two of them.

One of them, a full-bearded Yuan soldier, shouted, “Audacious barbarians! Where did you steal these two good horses from?”

As she heard the tone of his voice, Zhao Min understood that they coveted the pair of steeds given by her father. The horses of the Ruyang Prince were naturally divine steeds, with golden stirrups and silver reins, extraordinarily magnificent and expensive ornaments. The Mongolians loved horses like they loved life itself, so when they saw a pair of excellent horses, how could their hearts be not moved?

Zhao Min thought, “Although these two horses were given by Father, but if these two wicked thieves want to seize them by force, we’d better let them go.” She spoke in Mongolian, “Which General’s subordinates are you? Why do you dare to be so impolite to me?”

That Mongolian soldier was startled. “Who are you, Miss?” he asked. He saw that these two were wearing expensive looking clothes, the horses they were riding were no small matters either; and now she was speaking fluent Mongolian. He did not dare to be careless.

“I am General Waerl Puche’s daughter,” Zhao Min said, “This is my brother. We met some robbers along the way and are injured.”

The two Mongolian soldiers exchanged a glance, suddenly they laughed loudly. The bearded soldier said in loud voice, “One can’t escape, two will not live. We might as well kill these two babies.” Unsheathing his saber, he charged forward.

Zhao Min was alarmed. “What are you doing?” she asked, “I’ll tell the General and have the two of you pulled by four horses.” Execution by pulling by four horses was Mongolian army’s capital punishment, in which the lawbreaker’s limbs were tied to four horses. As the signal was given, a long whip cracked, the four horses would run to different directions at once, tearing the convict into four parts. It was the cruelest punishment.

The full-bearded Mongolian soldier laughed menacingly. “Waerl Puche was unable to defeat the Ming Cult army,” he said, “He randomly executed his subordinates, venting his anger to us, his soldiers. Yesterday the army revolted and chopped your father to be meat sauce. Nothing can be better than to bump into you, two puppies, in here.” While saying that, he raised his saber, ready to chop down.

Zhao Min jerked the rein, her horse leaped forward to evade. The soldier pursued to kill. The other Yuan soldier called out, “Don’t kill this young girl who is pretty-as-a-flower. We can have fun with her first.”

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” the bearded soldier replied.

Zhao Mi had an idea so she jumped down the horse and ran to the side. The two Mongolian soldiers immediately dismounted their horses to chase her.

“Aiyo!” Zhao Min screamed, while falling down to the ground. The bearded solder pounced on her, reaching out to grab her back. Zhao Min’s elbow struck backward and hit the vital acupoint on his chest. The bearded soldier grunted and fell on the spot. The other Yuan soldier did not see clearly what had happened to him, he continued his pounce toward her. Zhao Min repeated her trick earlier and struck his acupoint too.

Normally, she would be able to do these two strikes effortlessly, but this time she had to exert her entire strength that her head was soaked in cold sweat, and she felt as if all her strength was drained out. Propping herself against the ground, she stood up, and then helped Zhang Wuji dismount the horse. With the dagger in her hand she shouted, “Dog thieves! You have defied your superior. Do you want to live or not?”

Because their acupoints were sealed, the two Yuan soldiers felt their upper bodies were numb; they were unable to move their hands. Their lower parts still had feeling, but they were unbearably sore and ache all over. They expected Zhao Min to kill them, so they were surprised when they heard that she seemingly wanted to give them an opportunity to live. “Miss, have mercy!” they hastily said, “Xiao Ren really were not the ones who harmed General Waerl Puche.”

“All right,” Zhao Min said, “I will spare your lives as long as you do what I say.”

The two Yuan soldiers did not care how difficult the matter she was going to tell them to do, they complied immediately, “We’ll do it! We’ll do it!”

Zhao Min pointed toward her own horses and said, “You two must ride these two horses quickly to the east. Within a day and a night, you must cover 300 ‘li’s; the faster the better. You must not fail.”

The two soldiers looked at each other in confusion. They did not expect her instruction to be this trivial. They thought she must mean the opposite of what she was saying.

“Miss,” the bearded soldier said, “Even if Xiao Ren have enormous courage, we will not dare to ride on Miss’ horses …”

“This is important,” Zhao Min cut him off, “If anybody asks you along the way, you must say that you bought these pair of steeds at the market. You must never mention us two people’s appearances. Do you understand?”

The two Mongolian soldiers were still half believing and half doubting, but Zhao Min repeatedly urged them. They thought that even if she was playing a trick, going away was certainly better than being killed by her dagger. Therefore, step-by-step they slowly walked away from her, and then turned around and jumped onto the saddles.

The Mongolians grew up on horseback. For them, riding a horse was as easy as walking. Although their limbs were still stiff, they were able to drive the horses forward. They were afraid Zhao Min gave them the order out of temporary confusion and would regret her decision, so after a few dozens of ‘zhang’s, they squeezed the horse with their legs and they sped away as fast as they could.

“This is a very good idea,” Zhang Wuji said, “If your Gege’s men see these horses, they must think that we are going east. Where are we going actually?”

“We are going southwest,” Zhao Min replied.

They took the horses the Mongolian soldiers left behind, and leaving the main road, they walked toward the southwest on the wilderness. It was actually a rugged rocky path, full of brambles, which pricked their horses’ legs so that they were dripping with blood. Stumbling and limping, they only managed to cover twenty some ‘li’s within two hours of travel.

The sky turned dark. Suddenly they saw a wisp of smoke coming from a chimney of some building in the valley ahead. Zhang Wuji was delighted. “There are houses ahead, we can lodge in someone’s home,” he said.

When they got near, under the shadow of a big tree they saw the corner of a yellow wall. Turned out it was a temple. Zhao Min helped Zhang Wuji dismount the horse, and then she turned the horses’ heads toward the west. Picking up a thorny branch from the ground, she whipped the horses’ buttocks several times. The horses let a long neigh, and leaped away to the west.

By what she did, Zhao Min was trying to create yet another diversion to Wang Baobao’s pursuing soldiers. By losing their rides, the journey would be more difficult; but she did not give it too much thought. Right now, she was taking their journey one step at a time.

Two people supporting each other walked toward the front of the temple. They saw the tablet by the door had a four-character inscription, ‘zhong yue shen miao’ [Mount Song (in Henan, one of Five Sacred Mountains) divine temple].

Zhao Min lifted the ring of the gate and knocked three times. She waited for half a day without anybody answering the door, so she knocked three more times. Suddenly from behind the door came a grim voice, “Is it a man or a ghost? Or is it a living corpse?”

The wooden gate opened with a creaking noise. Behind it they saw a shadow. It was dusk, the dark was deepening. That man’s back was against the light, so they could not see his face clearly. But from his bald head and the monk robe he was wearing, he was obviously a Buddhist monk.

Zhang Wuji said, “We [orig. ‘zai4 xia4’ – ‘under’] brother and sister, were robbed an injured during our journey. We hope we can spend the night in your precious monastery, we are asking Da Shi [‘great master’, reverend] to show mercy.”

“Humph,” the man snorted, and then with a cold voice said, “Those who leave home [meaning, becoming Buddhist monks or nuns] do not usually provide convenience to others. You better go.” Immediately he closed the door.

“Helping others is helping self,” Zhao Min hastily said, “By helping us, you might not necessarily without any benefit.”

“What benefit?” that man asked.

Zhao Min reached up to her ears to take her pair of pearl earrings out, and handed them over to him. The monk saw that each earring had a bead of pearl as big as the tip of his little finger. He sized the two people up, and then said, “All right, helping others is helping self.” He moved aside to let them in.

Holding up Zhang Wuji, Zhao Min led him entered in. The monk took them pass through the main hall and a courtyard, to a room on the eastern side of the temple. “You can sleep here,” he said.

There was neither light nor fire inside the room, it was as dark as a cave. Zhao Min groped around on the bed. There was nothing else on the bed other than a sheet of straw woven mat. They heard a loud and clear voice calling out from outside, “Hao Si Di [fourth younger brother Hao], whom did you let in?”

“A couple of guests seeking lodging for the night,” the monk replied, while stepping out of the room.

“Reverend,” Zhao Min called, “Could you please donate two bowl of rice and some plain vegetable dish?”

“Those who left homes receive alms; we do not give to charity,” the monk said in haughty tone while striding away.

“This monk is terrible!” Zhao Min bitterly said, “Wuji Gege, you must be very hungry. We must find something to eat tonight.”

Suddenly they heard several footsteps coming from the courtyard, as seven, eight men came in. Flame flickered, the door was pushed open and two monks lifted up candlesticks in their hands to illuminate the faces of Zhang Wuji and Zhao Min. In a glimpse Zhang Wuji saw eight monks, short and tall, one had thick eyebrows and huge bulging eyes, the other had face full of wrinkles; none of them had a friendly face.

The old monk with wrinkles said, “Whatever money and jewelry you have, take them all out.”

“What for?” Zhao Min asked.

The old monk laughed and said, “Because of fate two benefactors have come over here, just happened to visit this little temple, which is about to carry out a great undertaking: reconstructing the main gate, and repairing the inlay of the golden idol. The benefactors’ money and jewelry must be donated. If not, you are offending the Buddha; and then you will be in great trouble.”

Zhao Min was indignant. “Isn’t that the misdeed of the robbers?” she asked.

“It’s sin! It’s sin!” the old monk said, “We, eight brothers, used to kill people and burn their houses; we robbed and did all kinds of shady businesses. But recently we laid down our sabers to follow the teachings of Buddha, and so we became casual Buddhist monks. Benefactors have been brought here by karma; the fat sheep has arrived to our door on its own account. Ay, you have made things difficult for us who have left our homes; we are no longer able to keep our purity.”

Zhang Wuji and Zhao Min were very shocked; they did not expect these eight monks were former big bandits. This old monk had been speaking quite bluntly. It sounded like he was going to kill them; he did not even try to keep it a secret, neither did he show any intention to let them go.

Another fierce looking monk said with a laugh, “Miss Benefactor need not be afraid; while we eight monks are robbing and plundering, we lack a mistress to take care of the temple. You have such a beautiful face, truly as if the ‘Guan Shi Yin Pu Sa’ [Guanyin Bodhisattva, the Goddess of Mercy] descends to the earth. Even if Buddha himself saw you, his heart would have been moved. Wonderful! Wonderful!”

From her pocket Zhao Min pulled out some seven, eight golden ingots and a string of pearls, and placed them all on the table. “All I have is here,” she said, “We, brother and sister, are also Wulin people. Gentlemen must respect the Jianghu’s ‘yi qi’ [spirit of loyalty, code of brotherhood].”

The old monk laughed and said, “So you two are Wulin people, nothing can be better than that. I wonder which school do you belong to?”

“We are Shaolin disciple,” Zhao Min said. Shaolin Pai was the number one major sect in the Wulin world. Zhao Min was hoping that these if eight men were not Shaolin disciples, perhaps one of their friends or relatives were somewhat related to Shaolin.

The old monk was startled, his eyes suddenly shone with murderous look. “Shaolin disciples?” he said, “That’s truly unfortunate! You two babies should really blame yourself for belonging to the wrong school.”

He reached out to pull Zhao Min’s wrist. Zhao Min quickly withdrew her hand so the old monk ended up grabbing empty air. Zhang Wuji realized the critical situation they were in. Both Zhao Min and he were heavily injured; it was extremely difficult to fight the enemy. They had battled countless well-known Wulin characters these past several years; would they lose their lives today in the hands of eight nameless lowly robbers? No matter what, he could not let Zhao Min being disgraced without him doing something. Thereupon he said, “Min Mei, hide behind me. I have a way to deal with these eight lowly thieves.”

Zhao Min’s brain was usually full of bright ideas and clever tricks, but this moment her hands were bound and she was unable to do anything about it. “What kind of people are you?” she asked.

The old monk replied, “We are renegades that the Shaolin Temple chased away. To come across other Sect’s Jianghu people, we can sill show mercy and not make our moves; but to come across Shaolin disciples, we cannot do anything but kill you. Little Miss, this brother actually wanted you to be the custodian of the temple, but after finding out that you are a Shaolin disciple, we have no other choice but to kill you first, so that we will not leave any witness behind.”

With a low and deep throaty voice Zhang Wuji said, “Good, huh! You are Yuan Zhen’s disciples, aren’t you?”

“Ah!” the old monk exclaimed in surprise, “That’s strange! How did you know?”

Zhao Min interrupted, “Actually, we are on our way to Shaolin Temple to see Chen Youliang Dage [big brother], to support Yuan Zhen Da Shi [‘great master’ – reverend] to become the Shaolin Temple Fangzhang [abbot].”

“Shan zai! Shan zai! [exclamatory remark used by Buddhist monks, means ‘good, peace’]” the old monk said, “Our Buddha reaching perfection, restoring all living beings.”

“That’s right,” Zhao Min said, “We must join our hearts and minds, accomplishing virtuous acts together.” As she said that, all eight monks broke out in laughter.

Turned out these eight monks belong to the same party as Yuan Zhen and Chen Youliang; they were inducted by Chen Youliang to be Yuan Zhen’s disciples. For the past few years, Yuan Zhen had coveted the Abbot position and thus recruited capable people from everywhere. However, Shaolin Temple monastic discipline was strict, each time they accepted a disciple, the disciple must undergo a rigorous examination by the monastic authorities, a detailed verification of their family background and origins, so that Yuan Zhen found it difficult to do whatever he pleased. Consequently, he cooked up a plan with Chen Youliang, to recruit the warriors of underworld organizations, pirates and bandits, and gathered them outside the Temple as Yuan Zhen’s disciples, yet they were not Shaolin disciples. They were waiting for an opportunity then together they would take this great undertaking.

Yuan Zhen’s martial art skill was very profound and he was able to defeat the Jianghu warriors into submission as soon as he put his hands into it. These Wulin characters had always been admiring Shaolin’s fame as the prestigious upright Sect; they had also seen Yuan Zhen’s divine martial art skill, therefore, they willingly submit under his tutelage. There were a small number of disciples who were not willing to betray their own original school. Yuan Zhen immediately removed these people. That was the reason they had not been exposed even though they had been engaged in this deceitful scheme for a long time.

When that old monk said ‘Our Buddha reaching perfection, restoring all living beings’ he actually was saying their secret code. If the other party replied with ‘the blooming flower meets Buddha, the heart draws near to Lingshan [a mountain in Guangxi]’; then they would know that they belonged to the same school.

As Zhao Min heard the undertone of the old monk’s words, she knew they were Yuan Zhen’s disciples, and she deduced that Yuan Zhen had his eyes on the Abbot position; but how would she know they had agreed on some secret code to communicate to each other?

“Fu Dage [big brother Fu],” a short and stout monk said, “This little girl says something about supporting our master to become Shaolin Temple Fangzhang; where did she learn it from? This is a very important matter, we must inquire clearly.” Although these eight people had become monks, they still addressed each other as ‘Dage’, ‘Erge’ [second brother], and so on; the habit they acquired when they were still involved in the ‘lu lin’ world. [‘lu lin’ means ‘green forest’, usually refers to the criminal world]

As soon as Zhang Wuji heard these eight men laugh, he knew something had gone wrong. He regretted that his back was seriously injured so he was unable to concentrate his internal energy [see note below]. He had no choice but to painstakingly focus his attention, trying hard to force the ‘chi’ to break free. He felt the warm energy gathered in a clump in the east, and formed together in a block on the west, but the ‘chi’ did not want to flow along in the blood vessels.

[orig, ‘zhen qi’ – true ‘chi’. Translator’s note: previously, I translated ‘qi’ as simply ‘energy’ or internal energy. When reading some martial art related publication, I realized that ‘chi’ has become an English word. Here are two examples I found:

Ch’i or qi (pronounced “chee” and henceforth spelled “chi”) is the Chinese word used to describe “the natural energy of the Universe.” (Skeptic Dictionary)

In Chinese culture, Qi (spelled in Mandarin Pinyin romanization), pronounced IPA: [tɕ[FONT=’Lucida Sans Unicode’,’sans-serif’]ʰ[/font]i], also ch’i (in Wade-Giles romanization) or ki (in Japanese romanization) is a kind of “life force” or “spiritual energy” that is part of every living thing. It is frequently translated as “energy flow”, or literally as “air”, “breath”, or “gas”. (For example, “tiānqì”, literally “sky breath”, is the ordinary Chinese word for “weather”). (Wikipedia)

Hereafter, I will leave the word ‘qi’ as it is, or translate it as ‘internal energy’.]

Zhang Wuji saw the old monk’s five fingers striking toward Zhao Min like a bird’s claw. Zhao Min was powerless to ward it off; she eluded by withdrawing into the bed. Zhang Wuji’s mind was very anxious, but he kept sitting cross-legged, hoping that he could restore 20, 30% of his strength, which would be enough to drive these eight wicked thieves away.

Seeing that Zhang Wuji was still arrogantly sitting in meditation in a time like this, the short and stout monk angrily roared, “This kid is so arrogant; let the old man [referring to self] send him to the western sky first, so that he won’t be in the way here!”

When saying that, he raised his right arm while his bones made cracking noise. With a ‘whoosh’ he sent a fist toward Zhang Wuji’s chest. Seeing this desperate situation, Zhao Min’s shrill voice cried out in fear; but she saw that as the stout monk’s fist landed on its target, his right arm went limp, his eyes rolled until only the whites were visible, and he stood motionless.

The old monk was shocked; he stretched his hand to pull his comrade’s hand. The plump monk’s hand did not give any resistance, as he had already died. The rest of the monks were startled and angered. They cried out one after another, “This kid uses witchcraft! He is a sorcerer!”

What happened was: when the plump monk used his entire strength to strike Zhang Wuji’s chest, he inadvertently hit the ‘shan zhong xue’ [lit. sheep odor acupoint]. Zhang W