ch Linghu Chong’s head, his five fingers holding his long sword would have been sliced off first. As he watched his opponent’s long sword sliding upward against his own blade, a move that could not be countered, having no other alternative, he struck down heavily with his left palm. The energy shot out from his palm hit the floor with a loud boom, and utilizing the counterforce, he leapt backward and landed over ten feet away.

Before he even recomposed to a firm stance, he had drew three circles in front of him with his long sword, which magically changed into three circles of light. The three circles of light looked as though they’d actually materialized. After freezing in the air for a moment, they began moving toward Linghu Chong gradually. At the first look, these sword energy turned circles of light did not appear as swift or fierce as the “Straight Line Lightning Sword,” but the energy released easily filled the entire room and everyone felt the chilling force coming from them.

Linghu Chong extended his long sword and then sliced out from the left side of the light circle with an inclined angle, which was exactly an energy gap when the power from Mr. Paint’s first move was just about to die and the power from the second move was just about to be released.

“Oh?” Mr. Paint uttered and retreated. The light circles made from the sword energy also retreated together with him. But all of a sudden, the light circles shrank briefly before growing into enormous shapes rapidly and gushing speedily toward Linghu Chong.

Linghu Chong shook his wrist and thrust out his long sword; once again, with another cry of surprise, Mr. Paint leapt away in a hurry.

Thus with numerous quick charging forwards and quick retreats, within moments, Mr. Paint had attacked with eleven moves and retreated eleven times. By then, the reflections from his sword had grown severely from the accelerated attacks and painted a layer of blue on his face. His beard and mustache also looked as though they were all standing on their ends from the tense atmosphere. Amid a loud roar from Mr. Paint, dozens of light circles, some big and some small, shot toward Linghu Chong at the same time. This was the very peak of perfection in his sword art, with which he had combined dozens of sword moves into one. Every single one out of the dozens of sword moves contained fierce killer techniques, and each move had several variations. Once combined, the complexity was simply unrivaled.

Resisting complexity with simplicity, Linghu Chong squatted slightly and prodded his sword tip up from under the dozens of light circles, pointing directly at Mr. Paint’s lower stomach. With another loud cry, Mr. Paint leapt backward with all his strength. “Bang!” he sat heavily on the stone table from the fall. Next, several clatters echoed as the wine cups on the stone table fell to the floor from the sudden shake and smashed to pieces.

“Marvelous! Marvelous!” Mr. Paint broke into a loud laughter. “Brother Feng, your skills in the art of sword are much, much better than mine. Come, come, come! I propose three toasts for you!”

Mr. Black-White and Mr. Bald-Brush knew very well about their fourth brother’s attainments in the art of sword. But without ever stepping out of the footprints made by Xiang Wentian, Linghu Chong successfully forced Mr. Paint back eighteen times during his sixteen attacking moves. The incredible sword skills Linghu Chong had shown were both admirable and frightening. Mr. Paint filled the wine cups and drank three cups together with Linghu Chong.

“Among the Four Playfellows of Jiangnan, my Kung Fu is the weakest. Although I admit my defeat, Second Brother and Third Brother won’t admit theirs. Probably they’ll want to check you out themselves,” he said.

“We did exchanged many moves, but Fourth Master didn’t lose in anyone of them, how can we conclude the match with a winner?” Linghu Chong disagreed.

“I lost after the first move. The rest seventeen moves were all unnecessary. Big Brother says that I need to improve my demeanor. He is absolutely right.” Mr. Paint shook his head.

“Fourth Master’s demeanor is in very high standard, just like your tolerance of wine is also in very high standard,” Linghu Chong said with a smile.

“Yeah! Yeah! Let’s drink some more!” Mr. Paint grinned.

Being a man who thought highly of himself in the art of sword, Mr. Paint didn’t have a single trace of irritation after losing to a not well-known at all junior swordsman. The negligent and open-minded grace he had shown was undoubtedly first-class. Both Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong felt great admiration for him.

“Shi, will you please go and get me my bald brush?” Mr. Bald-Brush said to Shi Lingwei.

Shi Lingwei answered and went out. Soon, he returned with a weapon and then presented the weapon to Mr. Bald-Brush with both hands respectfully.

Linghu Chong took at look at it, which turned out to be a Judge’s Pen, one foot and six inches in length, cast in fine steel. The funny thing was that there was actually a bundle of wool, still with ink, tied to the end of the Judge’s Pen, as though it was a real brush used for writing. For ordinary Judge’s Pens, the head section was used to seal the enemy’s Acupoints. But this pen here used the soft lamb wool as the pen’s head. When it was used to strike people’s Acupoints, how could it help in defeating the enemy in a real battle? Linghu Chong figured that Mr. Bald-Brush must know some special kind of Kung Fu; besides, he must possess very resourceful inner strength, so as soon as the inner energy is released, even lamb wool could be used to wound the enemy.

“Brother Feng, are you still going to stay in those two footprints?” taking the Judge’s Pen into his hand, Mr. Bald-Brush asked with a grin.

Linghu Chong took two steps back at once. “I dare not! I am a junior asking pointers from a Senior Master, how dare I be overconfident?” He bowed.

“There you go!” Mr. Paint nodded. “When you had the sword contest with me, it was okay for you to stay put. But to fight my Third Brother, that wouldn’t be wise.”

Mr. Bald-Brush raised the Judge’s Pen and smiled. “My stroke forms are all created from variations of famous calligraphy artists’ masterpieces. Brother Feng is a man well versed in both polite letters and martial arts. I am sure you can easily recognize the way of my Judge’s Pen moves. Brother Feng is a good friend, therefore, I won’t dip this bald brush in ink.”

Linghu Chong was slightly taken aback, thinking to himself, “If he didn’t consider me a good friend, then he would have dipped his brush in ink. What’s going to happen if he does dip his brush in ink?”

He was unaware that the ink Mr. Bald-Brush dipped his brush in during real combats was actually made from stewing very special medicinal materials, and after the ink got on one’s skin, the color would imprint deeply under the skin and could never be removed, whether by washing or scraping with a knife. In the former years when Martial masters had fought the “Four Playfellows of Jiangnan,” Mr. Bald-Brush had been the one giving them the most headaches. If anyone had not been extra careful, he would end up with a circle, a cross, or even a word or two written on his face by the Mr. Bald-Brush, and then the rest of his life would have been completed ruined. People would rather take a hack or even lose an arm than having him drawing things on the face. Only because Mr. Bald-Brush saw how Linghu Chong showed great leniency in his match against Ding Jian and Mr. Paint, had he decided to not dip his brush in ink.

Even though Linghu Chong had no idea what Mr. Bald-Brush had meant, he figured that it must have been some kind of good intention. So he bowed.

“Many thanks for the great kindness. Unfortunately I am not very literate; I am sure I won’t be able to recognize Third Master’s brush strokes.”

Mr. Bald-Brush was slightly disappointed. “You don’t know calligraphy?” he said. “Okay, let me explain it to you first. The stroke form I am about to use is called ‘General Pei Poem,’[16] which transformed from Yan Zhenqing’s[17]calligraphy book. There are a total of twenty-three characters, and each character contains between three and sixteen moves. Now listen carefully: ‘General Pei! The great lord that ruled the Six Directions![18] The valiant general that guarded peace in the Nine Fields![19] His war-horse as valorous as the dragon or tiger, galloping above the high mound with grand and heroic spirit!’”

“Thanks for the guidance,” Linghu Chong replied, but inwardly, he thought, “You can explain about the poem or the calligraphy all you want. I know nothing about them anyhow.”

Mr. Bald-Brush swung the big pen and pecked three times toward Linghu Chong’s left cheek. These were none other than the first three strokes of the character “Pei.” These three pecks were actually fake moves. Raising his big pen high in the air, he was just about delineate down from the top, when Linghu Chong suddenly thrust his long sword out in a preemptive strike and stabbed toward his right shoulder. Mr. Bald-Brush was forced into holding his big pen crosswise to block the strike, but by then Linghu Chong had already retracted his sword. Their two weapons did not collide with each other; both moves turned out to be fakes. But Mr. Bald-Brush was only able to execute half of the first move of the “General Pei” form and couldn’t complete it.

After blocking only to thin air, Mr. Bald-Brush immediately launched the second move. Before the head of the pen had a chance to strike forward, Linghu Chong had already thrust at another spot where he had no alternative but to defend. Without delay, Mr. Bald-Brush swung his pen backward to fend it off, but Linghu Chong had retracted his long sword once again, and Mr. Bald-Brush’s second wave terminated again only half way through.

Right from the beginning, Mr. Bald-Brush’s two moves were both interrupted midway through. Not able to complete the pen form he was very proud of, Mr. Bald-Brush couldn’t help but feel quite annoyed, as though a calligrapher had just picked up his brush to write, but only a few strokes into it, a naughty kid began catching his penholder or pulling his arms, and prevented him from finishing writing a character smoothly.

“I have already read the entire poem of ‘General Pei Poem’ to him beforehand. He knows the order of my strokes and is able to predict my moves and stop me ahead of time. I’d better not follow the order of the characters with my later moves,” Mr. Bald-Brush thought inwardly. After a fake dot, the big pen curved downward from the upper right corner to the lower left corner with abundant strength, writing the character “As” in the Grass Style. But Linghu Chong quickly pushed his long sword forward and pointed at his right rib cage. Astounded, Mr. Bald-Brush reversed the movement of the Judge’s Pen and smash it toward Linghu Chong’s long sword. Who would have expected that this stab of Linghu Chong’s was not a real stab? All he really did was just showing the posture, but once again, Mr. Bald-Brush was only able to execute half of his move. With this Grass Style stroke, he had put out a great amount of energy and strength. When suddenly the movement was redirected, not only did the stroke become stagnant, his internal strength was also forced to reroute, which stirred up quite some energy disruption inside his lower stomach and caused indescribable discomfort.

After taking a deep breath, he waved his Judge’s Pen rapidly in an attempt to finish the “Galloping” move, but only half way into it, he was forced to retract his Judge’s Pen in defense by Linghu Chong’s attack just as usual.

Mr. Bald-Brush was greatly irritated. “Hey chap! Stop putting sand in the wheels!” he bellowed as he accelerated his Judge’s Pen’s movement. But no matter how he sprang left and right transforming his moves, he was only able to write up to the second stroke with each character before being forced to stop by Linghu Chong’s sword strikes.

Mr. Bald Brush uttered a loud roar, and suddenly the writing style changed completely. Before, the flow of the strokes was free and unrestrained; now the strokes turned thick and heavy, with the vigor passing through the center while the cutting edge appeared blustering and aggressive. The strokes looked straightforward yet grand at the same time.

Linghu Chong of course had no way of knowing that this stroke form was inspired by the calligraphy book “Mount Bameng Maxim” written by the famous Shu General Zhang Fei,[20] but he also noticed the dramatic change in the writing style. He couldn’t care for less as to what move his opponent was using, and every time as soon as he saw the Judge’s Pen move, he would attack its flaw.

Mr. Bald-Brush croaked in frustration, but regardless of his movements, he was only able to execute half of his move and never succeeded in completing the full move.

Suddenly, Mr. Bald-Brush’s writing style changed again and began writing the Grass Style in “Huai Su Self-Stating Book”[21] Now the strokes flutters in all directions and the flow of the writing became much unpredictable.

“Huai Su’s Grass Style calligraphy, by itself, was already very difficult to read. Now I am adding even more Grass Scripts to the Grass Style, I bet this chap won’t be able to recognize this self-made Grass Scripts of mine,” he thought to himself.

How could he have known that Linghu Chong couldn’t even read many characters written in the square-shaped regular scripts, not mentioning the unrestrained Grass Scripts? He had assumed that the only reason Linghu Chong succeeded in predicting his movement and stopping him ahead of time was because Linghu Chong had been able to read his writing, when in fact all Linghu Chong saw in his eyes were weapon moves and forms, and his successful striking to the cracks all attributed to attacking the flaws in the opponent’s moves.

Even with the Crazy Grass Style, Mr. Bald-Brush still could only go as far as half a move with each of his moves. Feeling the indignation growing rapidly inside his chest, he suddenly shouted out loudly.

“No more fight! No more fight!”

Leaping backward, he picked up that barrel of grape wine Mr. Paint had brought along and poured the wine onto the stone table. Dipping his big pen in the wine, he began writing on the white wall, and it was none other that “General Pei Poem.” All twenty-three characters appeared full of passion, especially the character “As,” which looked as though it could have flown off the wall any minute.

After finishing off the writing, Mr. Bald-Brush finally let out a breath of relief. Turning his head sideways slightly, he admired the large characters on the white wall in dark red color, and laughed out loudly.

“Wonderful! Among my life-long artworks, this one is the finest,” he concluded.

The more he looked at it, the prouder he became.

“Second Brother, can I take this game room from you? I’d hate to part with this calligraphy work. I am afraid that I’ll never be able to write anything as good in the rest of my life,” he requested.

“Fine,” Mr. Black-White answered. “Other that the stone table, there’s nothing else in this room anyway. Even if you don’t want it, I’d have to move all the same. How can I ever focus on the game of go while facing the vigorous calligraphy of yours everyday?”

Mr. Bald-Brush stared at the several lines of calligraphy and wagged his head back and forth, feeling very pleased of himself.

“Even if the revered Mr. Yan was reborn, I am afraid he wouldn’t be able to write something like this,” he praised himself. Turning his head toward Linghu Chong, he said, “Hey buddy! It all thanks to you for keeping my ardors inside my belly until it was filled to the point of bursting, and then all of a sudden, they poured out from my heart through my hand and enabled me to create such splendid and unparalleled work under heaven. Your sword skills are excellent, and my calligraphy skills are also excellent. This is called each has his specialty and no winner can be claimed in this match.”

“Exactly! Each has his specialty and no winner can be claimed in this match,” Xiang Wentian agreed.

“Moreover, it was also because of my excellent wine!” Mr. Paint added.

“This Third Brother of mine is as innocent and artless as a child. Please note that he is simply crazy about calligraphy; it’s not that he does not admit he had lost the match.” Mr. Black-White explained.

“I understand,” Xiang Wentian answered. “The wager is that no one in the Plum Manor can beat Brother Feng’s sword art anyway, so as long as no winner can be claimed, we don’t lose our wager.”

“That’s correct!” Mr. Black-White nodded.

Reaching under the stone table, Mr. Black-White drew a square-shaped iron board from underneath. The iron board had nineteen horizontal lines and nineteen vertical lines engraved onto it. Turned out this was a game board cast in iron. Holding a corner of the iron game board, he said, “Brother Feng, let me using this game board as my weapon to check out your brilliant moves.”

“I’ve heard that Second Master’s game board is a magical treasure item that can control many kinds of weapons and projectiles,” Xiang Wentian said.

Mr. Black-White cast a long glance at him and then replied, “Brother Tong certainly has wide learning and a retentive memory. Very admirable! Very admirable! In fact, this weapon of mine is no magical item. It was made from magnets, so it would be able to attract game pieces made of iron, this way when I played games with other people while boarding boats or on horsebacks in former years, the game pieces would stay and allow us to continue with the game.”

“I see,” Xiang Wentian answered.

Hearing these words, Linghu Chong thought to himself, “Luckily Brother Xiang gave me the pointer ahead of time, otherwise, my long sword would have been attracted to his game board right from the start, and I’d have lost the match without the real fight. When I spar with this person, I have to make sure that I don’t let his game board touch my long sword.” At that thought, he pointed his long sword to the floor and then cupped his hands in salute.

“Second Master, thanks for giving me the opportunity to ask advice from you.”

“I dare not. Brother Feng’s understanding in the art of sword is brilliant. I have never seen extraordinary sword skills in my life. Please start!” Mr. Black-White said.

With a random slice Linghu Chong let his long sword wiggled in the air following an squiggly line.

“What kind of sword move is this?” Mr. Black-White hesitated for a fraction of a second. Seeing that the tip of the sword quickly approaching his own throat, he swung his game board and blocked. But Linghu Chong had redirected the stab and thrust his long sword toward his right shoulder. Without much thinking, Mr. Black-White moved the game board and blocked again. Before the long sword even approached the game board, Linghu Chong had retracted it and thrust it at Mr. Black-White’s lower stomach instead, which Mr. Black-White blocked once again.

“If I don’t counter attack, how do I take over the initiative?” Mr. Black-White thought inwardly.

In the game of go, it is very important to control the initiative of the game; in a martial arts competition, it is also critical to control the initiative. As an expert in the gamesmanship, Mr. Black-White of course was very familiar with this idea, so not wasting another moment, he raised his game board and pounded it toward Linghu Chong’s right shoulder. The game board was about two feet wide and one inch thick. It was a very heavy piece of weapon. If it smashed into the long sword, even if the iron board didn’t have magnetism, the long sword would still have been broken.

Turning his body slightly toward the side, Linghu Chong drove the sword toward the Mr. Black-White’s lower rib cage. In Mr. Black-White’s eyes, this thrust didn’t look like a legitimate move at all, but the spot it was attacking certainly required attention. So he swung the game board in a tilted angle to knock toward the long sword and at the same time pushed the game board forward. This move “Big Hosi”[22] was one that contained counterattacking in the defending. If Linghu Chong had to respond to this move, then his following moves would pour out in a steady stream. Who would have thought that Linghu Chong paid no attention to his move? Jabbing his long sword with an angle, Linghu Chong had launched a forestalled attack. Thus, Mr. Black-White’s defending move containing counterattacking function only had half the effect: the defending part worked but the counterattacking didn’t.

Afterwards, one thrust after another, Linghu Chong attacked over forty times without any delay. Mr. Black-White blocked left and warded right and defended his front and protected his back, putting up a defense shield so tight as though if one splashed water toward the shield, not even a drop of water would make it through, a very firm shield indeed. But they exchanged over forty moves, and Mr. Black-White’s over forty moves were all defending moves. He didn’t even have a spare second to launch one counterattacking move.

Mr. Bald-Brush, Mr. Paint, Ding Jian, and Shi Lingwei were completed stupefied. They could all see with their own eyes that Linghu Chong’s moves were neither quick, nor overwhelming, nor fierce, and the transformation between moves didn’t seem tricky or crafty, but every time when he thrust his long sword out, it would always put Mr. Black-White into straitened circumstances and make him work to make up for his flaws. Mr. Bald-Brush and Mr. Paint both understood it very well that there is flaw in every single martial arts move. But if one could forestall and attack the opponent’s vital points first, then his own flaws would not have become flaws, and even if he had hundreds or even thousands of flaws, it would not have mattered. And the forty or so continuing attacking moves Linghu Chong showed simply followed this principle.

Mr. Black-White also felt the shock growing bigger and bigger in his heart. He really wanted to launch his own counterattack, but as soon as he moved the game board slightly, the sword tip of the opponent was already pointing toward the flaws in his own moves. Within the forty moves also, he simply had no chance to improve the situation, as though he was playing a game of go with someone who had much, much higher skills, and for every single one of the forty or so game pieces the opponent played, he had no choice but to respond. Mr. Black-White knew that if the fight had continued like this, then even after another one hundred or two hundred moves, he would still be in the same boat where he would keep taking hits and never be able to fight back.

“If I don’t take on some risks for a chance of success, then my illustrious name would have been completely ruined,” he thought to himself. Swinging his game board forward horizontally, he smashed it toward Linghu Chong’s left side waist in high speed. Once again, without dodge for the strike, Linghu Chong thrust his long sword toward Mr. Black-White’s lower stomach, but this time, Mr. Black-White didn’t retrieve his game board to defend and still smashed the game board forward as though he was ready to risk his life and have a common ruin with his opponent. At the time when the sword tip approached his stomach, he suddenly reached out with his left hand and clipped at the sword blade with his index finger and middle finger. He had mastered the “Profound Heavenly Finger” Kung Fu, and the two fingers carried immense inner strength, which was really no less than another powerful weapon.

Seeing Mr. Black-White using such a risky move, the five bystanders all cried out in shock. Such move would no longer qualify as a contest of skills, but rather a game of life and death. If he failed to catch the sword with his fingers, then the sword tip would undoubtedly end up penetrating his stomach. Within the fraction of an instant, all five of them felt cold sweat in their palms. Mr. Black-White’s two fingers were almost touching the sharp blade of the sword, and whether he could catch the blade or not, one out of the two sparring pair would for sure get wounded or get killed. If he did catch the blade, then Linghu Chong’s long sword could not go any further, the game board would strike him in the waist, and he would not have any time to evade it. If he failed to catch the blade, or if he did catch the blade but failed to stop the long sword from going forward, then the long sword would continue with the thrust and even if Mr. Black-White wanted to leap back, he would have no time to do so.

Just at the instant when Mr. Black-White’s finger barely touched the blade of the sword, the tip of the sword suddenly went upward and pointed at his throat. This change simply exceeded everybody’s wildest imagination. Throughout all the martial arts in the history, there couldn’t have ever had a move like this, because this would have meant that the first thrust toward the lower stomach was actually a fake. Using such a fake move in a fight between two top-notch martial artists would have been a joke. But even though this move did not comply with any orthodox principle in the art of sword, it did come out through Linghu Chong’s hand. The sword tip prodded upward toward Mr. Black-White’s throat. If Mr. Black-White’s game board continued with the strike forward, the prod would have penetrated his throat first.

Utterly dumbstruck, Mr. Black-White used all his strength and held the game board still. He was a man with very quick wits and a master in gamesmanship, at the moment of the imminent peril, he immediately figured out the opponent’s intention: if he aborted his strike with the game board, then the opponent’s long sword would not prod forward either.

Sure enough, seeing that he held the game board still, Linghu Chong also froze the thrust with the long sword. The tip of the sword was only inches from his throat while his game board was also only inches from Linghu Chong’s waist. Both of them held their positions steady and froze like two lifeless statues.

Although it looked as if neither was willing to budge, Linghu Chong was really the one with all the advantages. The game board was a heavy item; only when it was striking down from several feet afar would it incur any damage. At present, it was only inches from Linghu Chong, even if Mr. Black-White decided to push it forward with lots of power, it wouldn’t do Linghu Chong much harm, but all Linghu Chong had to do was to prod forward gently, and the sword tip would easily kill his opponent. It was pretty obvious for everyone to tell who was in better shoes.

“Well, neither dares to move first. That’s called ‘Dual Life’ in the rule of go. Second Master is really both intelligent and courageous. You have ended up a draw in the match against Brother Feng,” Xiang Wentian declared with a grin.

Linghu Chong withdrew his long sword and took two steps back. “Please excuse my boldness.” He bowed.

“Brother Tong must be joking. How can one call this a draw? Brother Feng’s understanding in the art of sword is incomparable. I just had a crushing defeat,” Mr. Black-White muttered.

“Second Brother, your Kung Fu with your game piece darts is a unique skill in the Martial World. Nobody could ever escape it when you shoot out the three hundred and sixty-one black and white game pieces. Why don’t you check out this Brother Feng’s Kung Fu in breaking darts?” Mr. Paint suggested.

Mr. Black-White felt a throb in his heart. He glanced at Xiang Wentian, who nodded slightly a few times. Turning his head to look at Linghu Chong, he found no expression on Linghu Chong’s face.

“This one’s sword skills are to the extreme,” he thought secretly, “in the entire world, that person probably is the only one who could defeat him. The look on those two’s faces suggested that they had great confidence. If I have another contest of darts, most probably I’ll end up making myself a fool one more time.”

At that thought, he shook his head and showed a wry smile, “I have already admitted my defeat. What’s the need for another match of darts?”

__________

[1] Gold cast into the shape of leaves for the convenience of travelers.

[2] The world’s most ancient man-made waterway, China’s Grand Canal, a system still in use up to the 21st Century, was built in the Sui Dynasty in 606 AD, which linked the Yangtze, Yellow and Huai rivers, requiring the conscription of up to two million workers.

[3] South of the lower reaches of the Yangtze River.

[4] Turfan is a famous city in the Xinjiang Autonomous Region. It’s very famous for its high temperature in the summer. And because of the special climate, the city produces world-renowned Hami melons and grapes. The famous Mountain of Blaze descried in the novel Journey to the West is located right next to the city of Turfan.

[5] Great Master Xuan-Zang, or Tang Seng (Monk from Tang Dynasty), journeyed all the way to India in order to retrieve the true Buddhist Scriptures. Later, his story was written into the famous novel, Journey to the West.

[6] A Chinese game for two, played with black and white counters on a board that is ruled with 19 vertical and 19 horizontal lines. You can visit this web page by Mindy McAdams for more information about the game of Go.

[7] Legend has it that in the Jin Dynasty, there was a young woodman named Wang Zhi. One day when he went up the mountain to chop woods as usual, he saw two old men playing a game of Go, so he set his axe aside and watched by the side. By the time the game was over and the two old men had left, he decided to gather his axe and get on with his work. That was when he found out that the helve of his axe had decayed completely. Very baffled, he went down the mountain, only to find out that five hundred years had passed and everybody he had known had all passed away. Because this sto