CHAPTER 70

Liu Tong chases a badger; Cloud Dragon Hua escapes again

HUA Yun Long looked at the two headmen, both armed with a stout iron-tipped staff; and the deputies, each armed with some sort of weapon. The old proprietor was still holding the darts, and there was no chance for Cloud Dragon Hua to poison them. The outlaw ran to the wall, and as he reached the top, he saw that he was surrounded by a ring of armed men. There was only one thing he could do—he leaped down and ran toward them swinging his sword. They gave way and he was outside the circle.

Behind the No Mother-in-Law Iron Shop, the land rose into the long slopes of a mountain about two or three thousand feet high. A fraction of the way up, but still high above and overlooking the village that was itself on rising ground, as well as overlooking the plain far beyond, a large mound of earth protruded. It might, indeed, have been the covering for an ancient tomb. It was not very high, only about nine feet, but it was great in circumference. It presented only a slight obstacle to any climber. Beyond this mountain were other, higher, mountains, with their peaks lost in the clouds. He ran straight up the mountainside, with most of the pack falling behind.

Only Headman Zhou was able to keep up the pace. He was gaining steadily upon the outlaw as they raced up the slopes. Just ahead, Cloud Dragon saw the great mountain. He ran as he had never run before. He could hear people shouting to the headman, “Don’t let him escape!” The mound was just ahead, and he wondered if he could force his body up and over this great obstacle, which was too wide to go around. There was only one way—up and over it. He could hardly move his aching legs.

“I must make these legs of mine carry me onward,” he thought. “If I fall back, I will lose my life.” Just as he came to the top of the mound, a large rock came flying past him, missing him by inches. He heard a cry as it struck the pursuing headman just yards behind him. A few feet more and he was over the top.

Before him he saw a group of five men standing—the impressive figure of gentlemanly Yang Ming; the short and stocky Daoist Kong Gui; and the two young men Lei Ming and Chen Liang, the former taller and roughly built, with his wild red-dyed hair, cheeks, and chin colored dark blue, suggesting a close-cropped beard; and the latter slighter and almost elegant. With them was the powerful, swift-footed but simple-minded Liu Tong.

Less than a month earlier, the five men and Cloud Dragon Hua had all been together at the abbey, where Lei Ming and Chen Liang had persuaded Ji Gong to allow Cloud Dragon Hua to escape despite his mis-deeds. Then, as Ji Gong was leaving, he had told the five men that for an entire month they must stay within the abbey and not go outside its gates. If not, they would be in mortal danger. The five agreed. However, as the days passed, while most of them found they could endure the unaccustomed confinement, for Liu Tong it was almost impossible. Unable to sit around like most people, he could relieve his boredom only by spending each day practicing martial arts with his iron-tipped staff in the courtyard.

One day Liu Tong happened to break a flowerpot with his staff. One of the Daoist novices said, “If you want to practice, Liu Tong, why don’t you do it in the gateway?”

“Right,” said Liu Tong, “I will practice in the gateway.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Lei Ming, “and we’ll practice together.”

“Don’t go out there,” warned Yang Ming. “Remember what Ji Gong told us. For one month we should not go through the gate. Otherwise we will be in mortal danger. We cannot disbelieve him.”

“But there is no one there in the gateway,” countered Kong Gui, “and no one here on the hilltop. What is there to worry about?”

So Lei Ming and Liu Tong went out into the abbey gateway and began practicing, Lei Ming fencing with his sword and Liu Tong parrying with his staff. Each had reached a state of happy excitement as the movement loosened their bodies, which had been starved for exercise. Suddenly they saw a badger run across the open space near the mountaintop. Liu Tong ran after it with his staff and Lei Ming joined in the chase. The Daoist novice who saw them went in and told Yang Ming, “Liu Tong and Lei Ming have gone off down the other side of the mountain chasing a badger.”

Yang Ming, Kong Gui, and Chen Liang were uneasy, and, taking weapons, went down the mountain after them. Who would have imagined that Liu Tong and Lei Ming would follow the badger for almost twenty miles! There they saw the badger enter a hole at the base of a great mound of earth.

Liu Tong peered down into the burrow and cried out, “Come out, you stubborn ball of fur, or I’ll tear your den apart!” Taking his iron-tipped staff, he began to dig. It was at this point that Yang Ming, Kong Gui, and Chen Liang arrived.

“Liu Tong, you can’t get away with this! If anyone sees you, they will claim that you are grave robbing and lock you up! Come back with us at once!” Chen Liang commanded.

Just as he finished speaking, the five men heard the clamor of other men’s voices shouting, “Don’t let the outlaw escape!”

Lei Ming looked down over the crest of the mound and saw Cloud Dragon Hua approaching below, followed by a headman. “Look, Brother Yang,” he said, “Cloud Dragon is coming this way followed by some law enforcement people. I think we should help them catch him. What do you say?”

“If you ask me,” replied Chen Liang, “I think we should mind our own business.”

“Don’t worry,” said Yang Ming. “We would openly take our revenge upon him for what he did to us. Why not just throw a rock and knock him backward so that the headman can catch him? We won’t even have to be seen.”

“Right!” agreed Chen Liang. “Brother Yang, you’re good at throwing. Why don’t you throw the rock?”

With the rock in his hand, Yang Ming came to where he could just see over the edge of the mound. “Now, lightning, strike the dragon in the clouds!” he said, meaning Cloud Dragon. Yang Ming let the rock fly, but it missed Hua by less than an inch and struck headman Zhou Rui full in the chest. He fell backward and blood gushed from his mouth. Long before, the soothsayer had linked his sign wth the word “mound” and had hinted at an accident. Like most fatal warnings, part of the prophecy had a concealed meaning. The mistake was not made by Zhou Rui, but by another.

As for Cloud Dragon, he had seen Yang Ming throw the rock but was ignorant of Yang Ming’s motive. He scrambled over the crest of the ridge and saw his five acquaintances standing there before him. Cloud Dragon immediately fell on his knees before Yang Ming and knocked his forehead on the ground several times in the traditional kowtow. “Thank you for saving me, my eldest brother!” exclaimed Cloud Dragon. “My feelings go beyond appreciation!”

Yang Ming could not bring himself to say, “I wasn’t trying to save you—I was trying to help the headman.” Instead he said, “My saving you was really nothing. Now just run for your life!”

“Eldest Brother,” continued Cloud Dragon, “when you save someone, you must go all the way. I want to go to the Veiled Mountain and beg my uncle, the Sorcerer of the Ninth Palace, to let me stay there. Please go with me.”

“If you want to go and stay in the shrine, just go. Why should I have to accompany you?” asked Yang Ming.

“Eldest Brother,” begged Cloud Dragon Hua, “there is something that you don’t know. My uncle has a terrible temper. Knowing some of the things that I have done, that I have become known for, as soon as he sees me, he will kill me. If you go with me, you can talk to him. I am kowtowing to you, Eldest Brother.” And Cloud Dragon continued knocking his forehead on the ground.

Yang Ming was a compassionate man by nature. As Cloud Dragon continued to plead, he said, “Very well. I will go with you.”

Lei Ming and Chen Liang were both unwilling to go with Cloud Dragon. Yet they both felt that they could not let Yang Ming go alone, so the entire group started off to the Veiled Mountain Shrine. It was a journey of about fifteen miles.

When the group reached Veiled Mountain and looked up at the shrine perched on its steep side, Liu Tong stopped. “Big Brother Yang,” he said, “the rest of you can go up there. I’ll wait for you here. I’m not going to see Hua Qingfeng. If I see him, I’ll have to bow to that old bull’s nose of a Daoist, and I don’t want to do it. I’ll just wait here. If you don’t come back in one day, I’ll wait a whole day; if you don’t come back in two days, I’ll wait two days. I’ll keep waiting for my big brother Yang and then we’ll return together.”

“Very well then,” said Yang Ming, “wait here.” The four friends then went up the mountain with Cloud Dragon Hua.

At their knock a Daoist novice opened the shrine gate. “Ah, Elder Brother Hua,” said the boy, “how are you?”

“Quite well,” replied Hua Yun Long. “Greetings, greetings, Brother Teacher. Is the master teacher at home?”

“He’s at home,” the boy told them. As the group entered, they noticed pine trees planted here and there, and clumps of bamboo. Everything was neat and in the best of taste. There was an air of peace and refinement. Directly north was the great hall, perhaps fifty feet in length, with two smaller buildings on the east and west. The Daoist novice led them through the garden into a second courtyard that they entered by a gate in the corner. This eastern courtyard had one building about thirty feet long at the north end, and a similar one at the south end.

The novice knocked and said, “The master has been meditating, but you may go in now.” Lifting a bamboo curtain at the door, they entered and saw a long wooden platform-style bed, or kang, carved in a cloud pattern, on which were small tables, a charcoal stove, and other ceremonially designed things. The Daoist master was seated in the lotus position at the center. His eyes were closed as if in sleep. He wore a long black Daoist robe embroidered with the trigrams in gold, and on his head, the Daoist cap that is fitted over a cloth wrapped about the head and tied with cords. He sat straight upright, with his precious sword in its fish-skin scabbard slung across his back. His face was dark red like raw liver. Thick tufts of black hair grew outward from his ears and a long black beard hung from his chin.

Yang Ming and the others stood back by the entrance while Cloud Dragon Hua approached his uncle. Falling on his knees, Cloud Dragon Hua prostrated himself flat on the tile floor. “Uncle above me, your worthless nephew greets you with the kowtow.”

His uncle opened his eyes and glared at him. “You undutiful creature! How dare you go out and openly commit stupid deeds of violence that have brought dishonor to our family, which without you would still have a proud family name!” With that he drew his precious sword from its scabbard as if to strike.

Yang Ming, fearing that Cloud Dragon would be killed, rushed forward. “Most Reverend Sir! Have compassion, restrain your temper, pardon him!”

Hua Qingfeng turned his head and looked at Yang Ming. “Who are you?” he demanded to know.

“My name is Yang Ming,” the other replied.

“Uncle,” said Hua Yun Long, “this man has been like a kind brother to your worthless nephew. He is the Yang Ming widely known for his generous spirit!” At this point Lei Ming, Chen Liang, and Kong Gui also came forward. “These all have been like kind brothers to me,” added Cloud Dragon.

“You miserable, misbegotten creature,” exclaimed the sorcerer, “these are your kind brothers. Why did you not tell me at once? Everyone! Please sit down. May I ask this Daoist friend’s name?”

“Oh, Limitless One,” said Kong Gui, using the particular invocation referring to the founder of Daoism, “your disciple is called Kong Gui.”

“And what are the names of these other two gentlemen?” asked Sorcerer Hua.

“My name is Chen,” said Chen Liang.

“And mine is Lei,” said Lei Ming.

“Now, may I ask why you all have come here?” asked the sorcerer.

“Since the master teacher asks,” replied Yang Ming, “it is because my younger brother, your nephew, committed some serious errors in the capital, Linan. As a result, the mad monk Ji Gong from the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat follows him everywhere he goes in order to catch him and take him in. Your nephew has no place to hide. We came here with him to ask your revered self to accept him and give him refuge. Perhaps the monk Ji Gong will not think to find him here, but if he does come, the reverend teacher might persuade Ji Gong not to take him. You are both monks and know about the laws of Buddha and the ways of Dao. You both know all the mysteries of the three faiths—Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist. I beg you, sir, to help.”

When the uncle, Hua Qingfeng, heard this, he replied, “You all came here with him, to my shrine, because you were afraid that Ji Gong would take my nephew. Is that right?”

“That is so,” said Yang Ming.

“And you sincerely want to help him,” continued Sorcerer Hua, “or were you false in your sincerity?”

“Reverend Sir,” protested Yang Ming, “what language is this? If we had been insincere about helping him, why would we have come up the mountain with him?”

“Well, since you are sincere about helping him, I want you all to lend me something to keep for a while. Will you do that or not?”

“That depends upon what it is,” said Yang Ming. “If it is not something like our heads or lives, almost anything else you could certainly ask us to lend you.”

“You all want to help save my nephew. If you will lend me your souls for a while to temper my sword, I will be able to cut off Ji Gong’s head.”

Lei Ming was the first one to let his anger break loose. “You mixed-up, addlepated old Daoist sorcerer! You are talking nonsense! We were polite to you and it meant nothing. That’s enough. Brother Yang, let us leave here.”

Yang Ming was so angry that his face had turned red. “You uncles and nephews!” he exclaimed. “You want it all one way and nothing the other way!” He stood up and was about to leave.

Hua Qingfeng laughed loudly. “If you little folks want to leave, you will have to get my permission,” he said. “You’re going to have enough trouble getting into hell, to say nothing of heaven. Golden Eye, would you come out here and help me keep these people under control?”

The Daoist Jiang, known as Golden Eye, had been waiting in the next room. He immediately came out and recited some hypnotic spells that immobilized the four friends so that they were unable to escape. They were now indeed in danger of losing their lives.