Methinks he's about to have a "fire deviation"....I was this close to using that term in an office meeting the other day.
Methinks he's about to have a "fire deviation"....I was this close to using that term in an office meeting the other day.
Thanks for the translations guys.
I recall that prior to dying MCF broke her own hands to fulfill one of HYS wishes to never use the 9yin skills ever again. Did this really happened or perhaps the scene was taken out of subsequent editions?
I am interested in knowing how that would come about in an office meetingOriginally Posted by KChill
LOL...actually i was discussing the possibility of some of our developers experiencing burnout in the future if we didn't increase our staffing in some areas....but instead of burnout my first impulse was to use 'fire deviation'.....the real reason is because I'm just reading a little to much wuxia lately.....I've also found myself beginning to compare women I meet unfavorably with XLN....
"The Seven Freaks of Jiangnan" flows better than "The Seven Weirdoes of Jiangnan" despite the more negative connotation, so ok, I'll go with that.Originally Posted by JamesG
This indeed happened in the 2nd edition's Chapter 26, and was removed in the 3rd edition's (which I'm translating from).Originally Posted by Single Whip
Jinyong's "LOCH" (3rd Edition), Chapter 26
Translated by owbjhx
Part 2 of 9
Suddenly seeing his beloved daughter, Huang Yaoshi was unsure if he was dreaming. He rubbed his eyes. “Rong’er, Rong’er,” he called out, “is it really you?”
Huang Rong, still holding one palm enjoined with Guo Jing’s left, gave a slight smile and nodded her head, but said nothing. At this, Huang Yaoshi’s joy exceeded all expectation; putting other thoughts behind him, he laid Mei Chaofeng’s body down on a bench, went over to the cupboard, and sat down cross-legged. One touch of his daughter’s wrist, and he felt her pulse and breathing firm and steady. Then, reaching through the cupboard doorway, he pressed his left palm against Guo Jing’s right.
The many currents of sizzling qi boiling and bubbling inside Guo Jing’s body were already unbearable in the extreme; by this point, there’d been several times when he’d wanted to leap up screaming and shouting to relieve the pressure. When Huang Yaoshi’s palm came to enjoin with his, a stream of inner power flowed through with tremendous force, and instantly he felt a gradual settlement. Using his right hand, Huang Yaoshi set about kneading and massaging all the critical acupoints on Guo Jing; so profound was his neigong that, in just the time it took to make a bowl of rice, he had saved Guo Jing’s life.
Guo Jing, now regulating his qi with miraculous ease and circulating his inner breath freely, leapt through the cupboard doorway, bowed towards Huang Yaoshi, and immediately went to kowtow to his six teachers.
On the one side, Guo Jing was telling his teachers about the ins and outs of the situation; on the other side, Huang Yaoshi was leading his daughter by the hand and listening to her giggly chatter, her narrative punctuated with laughter. At first, the Freaks followed what Guo Jing was saying. But he was a dull talker, struggling to convey what he meant in words. Huang Rong, however, not only had a clear, crisp voice, but also a splendid turn of phrase; and when she got to the thrilling bits, her depictions scintillated with a hundred extra tones and colours. One by one, the Six involuntarily went over to listen; Guo Jing, too, finally shut up, turning from a speaker to a listener. Huang Rong did almost an hour’s worth of talking. With her expressions taking full flight – now grave, now comic – everybody listened enraptured to her pearls of wit, as if savouring a charming vintage wine.
Huang Yaoshi, upon hearing his beloved daughter had somehow become the Chief of the Beggar Gang, was utterly bewildered. “What a bizarre move from Brother Qi!” he remarked. “And how heretical of him! Perhaps he’s thinking of stealing my nickname – no longer being the ‘Northern Beggar’, and instead being the ‘Northern Heretic’? The ‘Five Greats’ would then be the ‘Eastern Beggar’, ‘Western Venom’, ‘Southern Emperor’, ‘Northern Heretic’, and ‘Central Who-Knows-What?’”
Her tale having reached the fight between Huang Yaoshi and the Freaks, Huang Rong gave a laugh. “That’s all,” she said. “There’s no use me saying what happened next!”
Huang Yaoshi announced: “I’m going to go and kill those four bastards Ouyang Feng, Lingzhi, Qiu Qianren and Yang Kang. Come with me and watch the fun, kid.” He was talking about killing people, but because he was looking fondly upon his beloved daughter, his face was all smiles.
Taking a glance at the Freaks, he felt rather contrite. Yet although he knew himself to be clearly in the wrong, he was still unwilling to hang his head and admit a fault to anyone, only offering: “The movement of qi hasn’t turned out too badly. It didn’t make me harm someone good by accident.”
As for Huang Rong, she’d originally resented the Freaks for prohibiting Guo Jing from getting married with her. But now that Mu Nianci and Yang Kang had gotten engaged, this issue had already been resolved. “Daddy,” she giggled, “how about admitting to the teachers that you made a mistake?”
Huang Yaoshi gave a snort. “I’m going to go and find Western Venom,” he said, changing the subject. He added: “Jing’er, you come too.”
Fundamentally, he felt deeply displeased at this crude, block-headed Guo Jing. “I, Huang Yaoshi, am absolutely brilliant,” he had mused. “But with such a dumbass as a son-in-law, wouldn’t that make those in wulin laugh their lips off?” He had consented to the engagement with great difficulty. It then so happened that Zhou Botong, not telling apart the silly and the serious, had cracked a reckless joke claiming Guo Jing had borrowed Mei Chaofeng’s 9 Yin Scripture and made a copy. In the midst of his rage, he had believed this to be true, and was furious at Guo Jing’s dirty underhandedness. But after having sent off Hong Qigong, Ouyang Feng, Zhou Botong and the others, he’d immediately realised that the text of the second-volume scripture that Guo Jing had learnt was far clearer than that in the second volume held by Mei Chaofeng. Moreover, this was without considering ‘let alone nowadays’, and so on. Guo Jing just couldn’t have copied from Mei Chaofeng’s handwritten text, and anyway, Huang Yaoshi had known long ago that Zhou Botong was telling lies. Later, he’d mistakenly believed Lingzhi’s made-up news of Huang Rong’s death.
Now, wild with joy at finally seeing his beloved daughter again, the grievance he held against the Freaks had momentarily vanished. It was just that he was unwilling to admit a fault or to make an apology; but he hoped in future to be able to help them with some serious matter, as a way of making amends.
Looking back on Mei Chaofeng who, in sacrificing herself to save him from great ruin, had not forgotten her gratitude to her teacher – not unto death – he pondered: “Ruohua and her martial brother Xuanfeng were in love. If they’d come and informed me about it, and petitioned to marry, I wouldn’t necessarily have forbidden them. There was no need to be rash and take the big risk of running away from Peachblossom Island. But I’ve been moody throughout my life, never settling on joy or rage. The two of them must have considered it from every angle, and – in the end – didn’t dare to open their mouths. Now suppose Rong’er, because of this eccentric temper of mine, were to end up just like Ruohua...” The thought made him shudder. By calling out this word “Jing’er”, he was actually acknowledging Guo Jing as son-in-law.
Huang Rong was delighted. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Guo Jing, who looked totally unaware of the implications held by this one-word title of “Jing’er”. “Dad,” she said, “let’s go to the palace first and bring teacher out.”
At this point, Guo Jing confessed to his teachers about Huang Yaoshi assenting to the marriage on Peachblossom Island, as well as the situation with Hong Qigong accepting him as a disciple. A pleased Ke Zhen’e said: “You’ve somehow set things up so that you can call The Divine Nine-Fingered Beggar your teacher, and you’ve duped the Master of Peachblossom Island into letting you marry his beloved daughter. We’re more than happy with it; where’s the sense in refusing? It’s just that the Mongolian Khan...” Recalling that Genghis Khan had granted Guo Jing the title ‘Prince Consort of the Golden Blade’, this was now something of an awkward matter which, if brought up, would surely provoke Huang Yaoshi into fury. For a moment, he wondered how he could mention it.
Suddenly, there was a creak as the main door was pushed open; in came Sha Gu laughing, holding a piece of yellow vellum twisted into the shape of a monkey.
“Sister,” she said to Huang Rong, “are you done eating watermelons? Oldie asked me to give you this monkey to play with.”
Huang Rong, assuming Sha Gu was just being silly and thinking nothing of it, reached out and took the paper monkey. Sha Gu added: “Hairy oldie says don’t get angry; he’ll definitely find teacher for you.” When Huang Rong heard that she was obviously talking about Zhou Botong, she looked at the monkey and saw that there were words written on the paper. Hurrying to unravel it, the following was revealed in a crooked scrawl over the surface:
Old Beggar was nowhere I looked,
Old Urchin was ever so good.
Huang Rong gave a worried gasp. “How come he didn’t see teacher?” she said.
Huang Yaoshi muttered to himself for a while. “Old Urchin might be deranged,” he said, finally, “but his martial arts are terrific. As long as Qigong’s still alive, he can surely rescue him. More immediately, the Beggar Gang are facing a big problem.”
“What problem?” asked Huang Rong.
Huang Yaoshi replied: “The bamboo stick the old beggar gave you was taken away by Yang Kang. Although that brat’s martial arts aren’t great, he’s still a nasty scoundrel; even such a person as Ouyang Ke died by his hand. Now he’s got hold of the bamboo stick, he’ll definitely go stirring up a storm, to make trouble for the Beggar Gang. We ought to catch up with him and retrieve it, or else the old beggar’s brethren are going to suffer generations of serious hardship – and you, as chief, won’t be reflected in glory.”
Normally, the Beggar Gang being in trouble wouldn’t prey on Huang Yaoshi’s mind in the slightest; on the contrary, he’d rejoice in their disaster and take pleasure in their ruin, seeing it as a great spectacle of fun. But now that his beloved daughter had become the Chief of the Beggar Gang, how could he still keep his hands in his sleeves?
One after the other, the Six Freaks nodded their heads. “But he’s already been gone for days,” said Guo Jing. “I’m worried catching up will be hard.”
Han Baoju pointed out: “Your Little Red horse is here – just when you could use it!”
Delighted, Guo Jing rushed out the door and made a whistle to summon it. Seeing its owner, the red horse bounded and galloped over, brushing up close against him and neighing incessantly with excitement.
“Rong’er,” said Huang Yaoshi, “you and Jing’er hurry and grab that bamboo stick. This red horse goes at a speedy pace; I expect you’ll soon catch up.”
Having said this, he noticed a smiling Sha Gu standing by the side, with an expression exactly like that of Qu Lingfeng, his own disciple. A thought occurred to him. “Are you called ‘Qu’?” he asked her.
Sha Gu laughed and shook her head. “Don’t know,” she said. Huang Yaoshi had long been aware that his disciple Qu Lingfeng had a daughter, and calculated that her age also appeared to fit.
“Dad,” said Huang Rong, “come and look!” Leading him by the hand, she went into the secret room.
Huang Yaoshi, seeing that the separated arrangement of the secret room was completely in a pattern he himself had originated, felt that it was surely the work of Qu Lingfeng.
“Dad,” said Huang Rong, “take a look at the things in that iron chest. If you can figure out what they are, I guess that makes you an expert!”
But Huang Yaoshi ignored the iron chest. Going over to the southwest corner and lifting up the sideboard at the foot of the wall, he revealed a cavity. Reaching inside, he pinched out a scroll of paper and right away leaped out of the secret room. Huang Rong hastily followed him out. Coming up behind her father, she saw the scroll unfolded in his hands, the paper’s surface covered in dust and its edges browned and broken. Written on it, in crooked handwriting, were a few rows of words…
Last edited by owbjhx; 02-06-07 at 04:36 AM.
Thank you owbjhx!
Huang Yaoshi is such a rude man. It is really not nice to be this way. He almost killed a lot of people and out of pride he didn't even apologize. This is too much!
But for uniformity sake, can you use Old Urchin (as previously used) instead of Old Delinquent, as well as Beggar's Clan instead of Beggar's Gang?
Yes do make these changes so I won't have to. Another thing you can do is add the chapter title to your first post.Originally Posted by shadow8899
Thanks owbjhx and keep up the good work.
I'll go with your suggestion re: "Urchin" vs "Delinquent". Both aren't entirely satisfactory renderings, but as I don't feel strongly about either, I'll stick with what others have used before.Originally Posted by shadow8899
However, I'm going to stay with "Beggar Gang" for the time being. "Beggar('s) Clan" isn't an optimal translation, as in English, "Clan" carries a familial connotation not implied by the Chinese "bang" [帮] and furthermore doesn't imply the organisational nature of "bang".
Ok, done.Originally Posted by JamesG
Jinyong's "LOCH" (3rd Edition), Chapter 26
Translated by owbjhx
Part 3 of 9
Addressed most respectfully to venerable senior Master Huang of
Disciple has acquired, from within the palace, assorted calligraphy,
paintings, and other artefacts, which he wishes to present for Master’s
Disciple respectfully refers to ‘Master’, not daring the presumption
to utter ‘beneficient teacher’ – even if, in disciple’s dreams, he still utters
‘beneficient teacher’ yet.
Misfortune has had it that disciple was encircled by palace guards,
and is survived by a daughter…
The writing having reached the word “daughter”, there was nothing further – except for a few splattered marks which could faintly be discerned as bloodstains.
At the time of Huang Rong’s birth, all the disciples had already suffered expulsion from Peachblossom Island, and Qu Lingfeng had suffered it the earliest. Huang Rong, knowing that each person under the tutelage of her father had been a terrific individual, couldn’t help feeling alarmed at seeing today this report left behind by Qu Lingfeng.
By now, Huang Yaoshi had already understood the heart of it. He knew that, after Qu Lingfeng had been expelled from his teaching, he had agonised hard over gaining readmittance to the school of Peachblossom Island. Recalling that Huang Yaoshi was fond of treasures, antiques, and samples from the work of famous painters, he had taken the risk of going to the imperial palace and committing robbery. This had gone favourably for a few times, but in the end, he had been discovered by the imperial guards. After a fierce fight, he had sustained a serious wound; returning home to write his final will, he must have struggled to finish it because of the seriousness of his injury. When, not long after, the master guardsman came in in pursuit, both sides ended up dying right here.
Huang Yaoshi was already remorseful after having seen Lu Chengfeng that last time. Now, with the recent death of Mei Chaofeng and the sight of such dedication from Qu Lingfeng, he felt even more guilt. Turning his head and spotting the grinning Sha Gu standing behind him, he had a thought. “Did your father teach you how to fight?” he asked, in a stern voice.
Sha Gu shook her head; running over to the door, she closed it and then furtively took peep after peep through the crack in the doorway, throwing a few punching moves. But as the punches came and went, they were all of the same six or seven unpolished moves from the ‘Blue Wave Palm’ form, and nothing else.
“Dad,” Huang Rong commented, “she taught herself by spying when Martial Brother Qu was practicing martial arts.”
Huang Yaoshi nodded his head, murmuring: “I expected Lingfeng wouldn’t have such a nerve as to dare pass one’s martial arts to others after having left my tutelage.” He added: “Rong’er, try attacking her footwork. Trip her up.”
Huang Rong stepped up, giggling. “Sha Gu,” she said, “let’s practice some martial arts. Look out!”
Throwing a feint with her left palm, she immediately followed with a ‘Matching Ducks Joined by a Ring’, launching two kicks with unrivalled speed. Sha Gu, dumbstruck, had already taken Huang Rong’s left kick on her right hip before she hurriedly stepped back. But she didn’t know that Huang Rong’s right leg, placed in advance, was waiting behind her; she was still unsteady from her step back when her momentum made her trip and she toppled face-up.
Leaping up immediately, she shouted: “You cheated! Little sister, let’s go again.”
Huang Yaoshi’s face darkened. “Who’s the ‘little sister’?” he said. “It’s ‘auntie’!”
Sha Gu, who didn’t know the difference between “sister” and “auntie” anyway, laughed. “Auntie! Auntie!” she said, obediently.
Huang Rong had already understood. She thought: “Daddy basically wanted me to test her footwork. Both of Martial Brother Qu’s legs were broken, so when he was practicing martial arts by himself, he obviously didn’t practice using his legs and feet; therefore, Sha Gu wouldn’t have been able to spy on any footwork. If he had trained her personally, then he’d have taught her skills for all areas: upper-body, mid-section, and footwork.”
By calling out the word “auntie”, Huang Yaoshi was finally accepting Sha Gu back under his tutelage. “Why the heck are you so silly?” he asked her.
She laughed: “I’m Sha Gu!”
Huang Yaoshi scowled. “Where’s your mum?”
Sha Gu put on a crying face, answering: “Gone to granny’s place.”
Huang Yaoshi then asked seven or eight questions in a row, but he didn’t get anything that mattered. He could only give a sigh and leave it at that. When Qu Lingfeng was still in his tutelage, he was aware that he had a silly daughter who wasn’t very bright. That, for sure, was Sha Gu.
There and then, they buried Mei Chaofeng in the back garden. Guo Jing and Huang Rong carried out the skeleton of Qu Lingfeng and buried it next to Mei Chaofeng. Although the Six Freaks were mortal enemies with the ‘Twin Spectres of the Black Winds’, the death of a person was what was important; they too all kowtowed before the grave, offering wishes and dismissing their prior grievance.
Huang Yaoshi, gazing at the two new graves for a long while, felt a hundred feelings mixed together. “Rong’er,” he said, sadly, “let’s go and look at your Martial Brother Qu’s treasures.” At that, father and daughter walked back into the secret room.
Looking at the things Qu Lingfeng had left behind, Huang Yaoshi was silent for a long time. Shedding tears, he said: “Among the disciples under my tutelage, Lingfeng had the strongest martial arts and the brightest mind. If his legs hadn’t been broken, even one hundred palace guards wouldn’t have been able to hurt him.”
“That’s a matter of course,” said Huang Rong. “Dad, are you going to teach Sha Gu martial arts personally?”
“I’ll teach her martial arts,” he murmured. “And I’ll teach her verse-writing, qin-playing, the mysteries of the five elements…All the skills that back then your Martial Brother Qu wanted to learn but didn’t learn – I’ll teach her, comprehensively.”
Huang Rong stuck out her tongue, and thought: “Heretical thoughts from a heretical man! Daddy’s letting himself in for a lot of stress.”
Huang Yaoshi opened the iron chest, looking through it layer by layer. The more valuable the treasures, the more sorrow he felt. Seeing rolled-up paintings and calligraphy, he sighed, remarking: “No doubt it’s great to use this stuff as a pleasing diversion from frustration, but as for expending one’s will over playthings – that must never happen. How fine were the pictures of flowers, birds and figures painted by the Taoist ruler, Emperor Huizong! Yet having depicted the rivers and mountains in all their splendour, he rolled them up and gifted them to the Jins.” As he spoke, he furled and unfurled the scrolls. “Eh?” he said, suddenly.
Huang Rong asked: “Dad, what is it?”
Huang Yaoshi pointed out a landscape in splash-ink, saying: “Look here!”
In the painting was a towering mountain, with a total of five steep peaks. Among them, one peak was outstandingly tall – bolt upright and pointing to the heavens, it pierced the clouds with its colossal height and overlooked a deep chasm below. A row of pine trees grew by the mountainside. Twigs tipped with snow, each winding trunk curved to the south, suggesting the utter ferocity of the north wind. To the west of the summit was a lone pine: old, but stiff and upstanding, and rising with an elegant majesty. Beneath this pine, vermilion brushstrokes profiled a general, twirling his sword in the face of the wind. The figure’s features were hard to discern, but the sleeves of his clothes rose in a flutter, and his bearing escaped the ordinary. The entire picture was a monochromatic landscape, but this man alone was a firey, blackish red – making him seem all the more outstanding and exceptional.
The painting was without a signature. It was annotated only with the following poem:
My clothing covered with the marks of many years,
In special search of em’rald haven’s fragrant heights,
I’ve never seen enough of hills and rivers fine,
As cavalry by moonlight hurries to retreat.
A few days ago, Huang Rong had seen this poem as written down by Han Shizhong on the Emerald Haven Pavilion in Lin’an, and recognised the handwriting. “Dad,” she said, “this was written by Han Shizhong. The verses are of the late, mighty Yue.”
Huang Yaoshi nodded. “That’s right, my clever Rong’er!” he said. “But this poem of the late Yue was actually describing the ‘emerald haven’ of the mountains in Chizhou. The mountains in the painting make a treacherous scene; they’re no ‘emerald haven’ at all. Although this painting’s style has a fine firmness, it’s short on implication and tasteful accent; it’s not by the hand of a master.”
That day at the Emerald Haven Pavilion, Huang Rong had seen Guo Jing – reluctant to leave – tracing his fingers along the stone inscription and brushing over the remains of Han Shizhong’s handwriting. Knowing that he’d be fond of it, she said: “Dad, let Guo Jing have this painting.”
Huang Yaoshi laughed. “Girls, by birth, are extroverts,” he said. “What else is there to say?”
Handing it over to her freely, he reached into the iron chest again and picked up a necklace, remarking: “This string of pearls is each and every one of the same size; that’s truly hard to come by.” After he gave it to Huang Rong to wear around her neck, she threw herself into his arms, and he reached out and held her in a hug. Father and daughter smiled at each other, nestling cheek against cheek, both feeling a never-ending warmth.
Huang Rong had just rolled up the painting when suddenly, she heard several harsh, urgent cries of eagles overhead.
Uh-oh - Looks like the Mongolians have arrived.
owbjhx - thank you
thank you, owbjhx,
Yang Guo & Zhou Botong said in Chapters 6, 11 & 25 of ROCH:
Thanks owbjhx for the translation and for adding the title to your first post.
Huang Yaoshi cruelly doing in his disciples is the only thing that keeps him from being one of my favorites wuxia characters.
Methinks Huang Yaoshi will find out about GJ's Mongolian finace and start painting the walls of the inn red.
Same here. I really started to favour him in RoCH, but thinking back to LoCH times is holding him back from being placed in my favourites.Originally Posted by KChill
Jinyong's "LOCH" (3rd Edition), Chapter 26
Translated by owbjhx
Part 4 of 9
Huang Rong, who was highly fond of that pair of white eagles, remembered that they’d already been taken back by Huazheng, and felt very unhappy. Wanting to play with them again for a bit, she emerged from the secret room in a hurry.
Outside the doorway, she saw Guo Jing standing under the big willow tree, one eagle pulling the shoulder of his clothes with its beak and leading him somewhere, the other eagle circling him and crying repeatedly. Sha Gu, watching in amusement, was wheeling round and round Guo Jing, clapping and giggling.
Guo Jing had an agitated look. “Rong’er,” he said, “they’re in trouble! Let’s hurry and go save them!”
“Who?” asked Huang Rong.
Guo Jing replied: “My sworn brother and sister!”
Huang Rong threw a pout with her little lips. “Well, I’m not going!” she said.
Guo Jing, unaware of her feelings, was baffled. “Rong’er, don’t be so childish!” he said, urgently. “Come on!” Harnessing the red horse, he slung himself into the saddle.
“Then...do you still want me or not?” said Huang Rong.
Guo Jing scratched his head in further bafflement. “How could I not want you?” he said. “I can go without my own life, but I can’t go without you.” Holding the reins with his left, he stretched out his right hand to receive her.
Huang Rong gave a beautiful smile and called out: “Dad, we’re going to the rescue. You and the six teachers come too.” She leaped over, latched onto Guo Jing’s right hand with her left, and pulled herself up to sit behind him on the horse’s back.
Guo Jing, on horseback, bowed ceremoniously to Huang Yaoshi and his six teachers, and prompted the horse forward; ahead, the pair of eagles led the way, giving a long cry in unison.
The Little Red horse had been separated from its master for very long; now that it was carrying him once again, it felt an inexpressible happiness. Invigorated in spirit, it galloped onwards as if hauled by lightning and sped by the wind; although the two white eagles were fast flyers, the Little Red somehow kept up with them.
Not long after, the eagles dived down into a dark, dense forest ahead. The Little Red, not waiting for its master’s guidance, also raced straight towards the forest.
Arriving just outside the forest, they suddenly heard a voice like a cracked cymbal emanating from within the trees: “Brother Qianren, long have I known your mighty reputation as the venerable hero of Iron Palm! Younger brother has a great desire to admire, and marvel at, the virtuosity of your divine arts; it’s a pity that senior brother couldn’t participate at the Mount Hua Duels back then. Right now, let’s ‘throw brick to lure jade’. Firstly, younger brother will use his trivial skills to finish off one of these; then, how about senior brother letting loose in the awesome spirit of Iron Palm?” Following this, someone gave a loud cry of misery, the treetops swayed in the forest canopy, and a big tree came crashing down.
Shocked, Guo Jing dismounted and rushed into the forest.
Huang Rong dismounted too. Patting the Little Red’s head, she pointed back at the direction they’d come from, and said: “Quick, go bring my daddy here!” The Little Red turned around and zoomed off.
“I just hope daddy comes quick,” thought Huang Rong, “or else, we’re going to get it from Old Venom again.”
Hiding herself behind the trees, she crept quietly into the forest. One glance later, she couldn’t help feeling astounded: Tuolei, Huazheng, Zhebie and Bo’erhu had all been tied up separate from each other against four big trees, and in front of them stood Ouyang Feng and Qiu Qianren. Against another tree – which had collapsed – there was also someone tied; covered in brightly-coloured clothes and armour, this was actually the Song commander who’d been escorting Tuolei back north. He’d been given a push from the stone-splitting, tree-snapping force that was Ouyang Feng’s palm. The front of his body was totally coated in blood, and the eyes in his drooping head were shut; he’d already been killed. The many soldiers had, to a man, disappeared without a trace; they’d presumably been routed by the two.
Qiu Qianren, who dared not compare palm power with Ouyang Feng, was just about to say a few things to bluff his way through when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Turning around to see Guo Jing, he felt both alarm and glee – just in time to make use of Western Venom to eliminate him! All he had to do was induce the two of them to get fighting, and then there’d be no need to take action himself.
Ouyang Feng saw that Guo Jing had borne the powerful force of his own Toad Art, and yet hadn’t died; this was highly unexpected.
“Guo Jing gege,” cried out Huazheng in delight, “you’re still alive! Super, super!”
Seeing the situation before her, Huang Rong had already concluded her calculations. “While waiting for daddy to come,” she planned, “I ought to delay things for a bit.”
“Bastards!” shouted Guo Jing. “What are you two oldies doing here? Planning murder again?”
Ouyang Feng, intending to get a clear look at Qiu Qianren’s martial arts, gave a slight smile and didn’t respond.
“Why aren’t you bowing down before Master Ouyang, boy?” shouted Qiu Qianren. “Bored being alive, are you?”
From within the secret room, Guo Jing had listened to Qiu Qianren saying all sorts of outrageous things to stir up controversy, and now he was trying to murder people. Hating him to the core, he strode forward two paces and let out a shout, throwing a ‘Repentance of the Haughty Dragon’ at Qiu Qianren’s chest. By now, his ability with the 18 Dragon-Subduing Palms was no small matter; this particular palm was four parts release and six parts restraint, its power unleashed and instantly withdrawn. Qiu Qianren tried to dodge the oncoming force by hurriedly tilting his body but still had to deal with the arriving palm wind, and helplessly, he dropped forward instead of moving backwards.
Guo Jing gave a yell and threw a left-handed reverse palm, aiming for a tongue-splitting, tooth-dropping hit, after which Qiu Qianren would never again profit from waggling his tongue and provoking a storm.
Although this palm was strong in force, it was thrown quite slowly, but in placement it was just right – making it impossible for Qiu Qianren to dodge. It looked like it was about to hit him in the cheek when suddenly, Huang Rong called out: “Hold it!”
Guo Jing instantly converted his left hand into a grappling palm. Seizing Qiu Qianren by the back of the neck, Guo Jing lifted him up, then turned his head and asked: “What?”
Huang Rong was worried that, if Guo Jing wounded this oldie, Ouyang Feng would immediately go on the attack. “Quick, let go!” she said. “The ‘facial martial arts’ of this senior master are phenomenal. Once your palm hits his face, its force will be fired back at you; you won’t avoid internal injury!”
Guo Jing, not knowing she was speaking in ridicule, was incredulous. “There’s no such thing!” he protested.
Huang Rong added: “Senior master Qiu can strip the hide off an ox with just a gust of his breath! Why aren’t you getting out of the way?”
Guo Jing was even more incredulous. But realising that she surely had some intention, he duly put Qiu Qianren down and let go of his neck.
Qiu Qianren cackled loud with laughter. “Young miss sees the danger yet!” he said. “With you little kiddies, I’ve no grievance, no enmity. By the abundant goodness of heaven above, how could I – being the senior – do as the big bully the small, and injure you as I please?”
Huang Rong smiled. “That’s well said,” she replied. “I’m a great admirer of senior master’s skill; today, I’d like to seek advice on expert moves. But don’t you injure me!” At that, she put her guard up; her left hand raised, she rolled her right into a hollow fist, brought it to her mouth, and blew a few times.
“Here’s a move called ‘Tooting One’s Own Conch’,” she laughed. “En garde!”
“Young miss has some gall!” said Qiu Qianren. “The name of Master Ouyang is pervasive under heaven – your ridicule is unacceptable!”
There was a smack as Huang Rong threw a surprise right-handed slap, landing a crisp, clean hit on his face. Giggling, she said: “This move’s called ‘The Backlash of the Facetious Cheek’!”
Suddenly, from outside the woods came the sound of laughter, and someone said: “Excellent! And the same once again!”
Hearing the voice, Huang Rong realised that her father had now arrived. Immediately growing more daring, she gave a call of agreement and duly motioned to throw a right-hand slap. Qiu Qianren hastily ducked in avoidance, but didn’t know that her move was actually a feint – the slap was instantly pulled and followed up with a left palm. Using the through-arm style of Six-Harmony Fist, he tried to swing out a block, but hadn’t figured that his opponent’s attack was still a feint; seeing her two tiny little palms fluttering up and down before his eyes like a couple of jade butterflies, his concentration slipped, and his right cheek took a slap yet again.
Qiu Qianren knew that, if the fight carried on, things could get positively out of hand. Shouting, he threw out two punches which forced Huang Rong to retreat a couple of steps, then straight away leapt aside with a cry of “Hold it!”
“What?” said Huang Rong, laughing. “Had enough?”
Qiu Qianren gave her a stern look. “Miss,” he said, “you’ve already sustained an internal injury. Hurry off to a tranquil room to convalesce for seven times seven days. And don’t so much as peep outside, or else there’s no guaranteeing your little life!”
Seeing him speak so seriously, Huang Rong couldn’t help being startled for a moment – before bursting into giggles of uncontrollable laughter, her body trembling like the stem of a flower.
By now, Huang Yaoshi and the Six Freaks of Jiangnan had already caught up, and were puzzled at the sight of Tuolei and the others tied against trees.
Ouyang Feng had naturally heard that the martial arts of Qiu Qianren were astonishing. In one former year, he’d beaten the master warriors of the Hengshan School – which had rocked the southern realms with its might – until they lay dead or dying, using only his pair of iron palms. There and then, Hengshan suffered irrecoverable collapse, never again able to hold its position in wulin. But today, how come he couldn’t even beat a little girl like Huang Rong? And could it be true that he had facial neigong, able to injure opponents by firing their force back at them? Not only was this unheard of, it didn’t look like it, given his situation.
Just as Ouyang Feng was hesitating, he raised his head and suddenly spotted a document pouch of Sichuan brocade hanging aslant from Huang Yaoshi’s shoulder, with a camel embroidered in white silk on its surface – the property, as it happened, of his own nephew. Deep down, he couldn’t help feeling dread. Having left after killing Tan Chuduan and Mei Chaofeng, he had come back again just to collect his nephew. “Could it be that Huang Yaoshi has actually killed the lad in vengeance for his disciple?” he thought.
In a trembling voice, he asked: “What’s happened to my nephew?”
Last edited by owbjhx; 02-12-07 at 01:01 PM.
owbjhx, I particularly enjoyed how you convert those Chinese expressions and phrases into similes and integrate them into your translation, elegantly. I tend to simply extract the literal meanings of these phrases as my poor ability in doing what you've done would only make these phrases grate on the reader's ears, rather than enlivening the prose. Thumbs up on the work well done.
Gee, I am learning something new everytime I visit the translation threads of you guys and others.
Thank you very much owbjhx.
The story gets very interesting. I'm expecting a series of communication problems (JY style).