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Chapter 38 – Life and death are indistinct, Part 7

Like a vision he could see clearly in his mind: Xiao Longnü – her white dress gently swaying in the wind, came near him. Then he heard her voice seemingly from below him, “Yang-lang, Yang-lang, let not your heart be sad. Don’t be sad …!” (Yang-lang means my dear husband.)

Suddenly, Yang Guo jumped down into the bottomless gorge …

Guo Xiang followed Jinlun Fawang to the Passionless Valley. Their minds and emotions were a world apart. Fawang was a strange man. When he hated someone, he would be like venomous snake or scorpion; but when he liked someone, he could be extremely loving and kind. He was determined to take the girl as his disciple, his successor; therefore, he tended to every single one of her needs. He treated her like Guo Xiang was his most beloved daughter. But Guo Xiang maintained an aloofness towards him. She continually reminded him how the Long Beard Ghost and the Big Head Ghost died by his hands. She was being difficult with Fawang. Fawang was a highly respected man even when he was still in Tibet; moreover, he held the Fawang [Imperial Priest] position of the Mongolian Empire now. Even Khubilai – the fourth prince, had always showed the utmost respect for him. Guo Xiang was only a teenage girl, but she kept making derogatory remarks to him. Didn’t she mention that he was inferior to Yang Guo, and that he killed people too easily? Fawang was confounded; he didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

Finally, they arrived at the Passionless Valley one day. They were startled by a distant cry, “Why didn’t you keep your promise?” That was Yang Guo’s cry of anguish, anger, desperation, and suffering.

Guo Xiang strained her ears. She thought the voice came from all directions. She was shocked!

“That was Brother Yang!” she shouted. “That was Brother Yang! Let’s go and see!” And she leaped forward, running toward the cliff.

Jinlun Fawang followed not too far behind. He perked up. Didn’t the girl say that he would face his archenemy? From his backpack he took out his five wheels: golden, silver, copper, iron and lead. He held them tight. Yes, he had mastered the tenth level of the ‘Dragon and Elephant Wisdom Dexterity Technique’, but he also remembered that in the past sixteen years, Yang Guo and Xiao Longnü certainly had not wasted their time. Therefore, he did not dare to underestimate them.

When Guo Xiang arrived at the Broken Heart Cliff, she saw Yang Guo standing still with red flowers twirling around him. She was afraid of the gorge. She realized her own level of martial arts and did not dare to come closer. All she could do was call, “Brother Yang, here I am!”

Yang Guo did not respond, he didn’t even seem to hear her. Guo Xiang was confused; she thought the man looked so extraordinary.

“Brother Yang!” she called again. “I still have one of your golden needles! Listen to me, you cannot commit suicide …”

Having said that she ran toward the bridge. But just as she was halfway there, she suddenly saw Yang Guo jump down into the gorge! She was really shocked! Whether it was from her intention to help, or out of her love toward him, she kicked the ground and also jumped down into the gorge …

Jinlun Fawang was about seven or eight ‘zhang’s [about 21 to 24 meters] behind her. He saw something amiss; he exerted his energy to his feet and flew like an arrow toward her. He wanted to grab her. However, he was still one step behind the girl. Guo Xiang’s body had already plummeted down into the bottomless gorge. Fawang was a truly skilled martial artist, and he had guts! Without hesitation he moved swiftly with the ‘Hanging a Golden Hook’ technique [dao gua jin gou], leaped forward and reached. It was an extremely dangerous move, because he could be falling down the gorge as well. He managed to grab the end of Guo Xiang’s robe, but it ripped and the girl’s body kept falling down into the mist below …

“Ah …!” he sighed. His hand still holding tight a piece of Guo Xiang’s clothes, his eyes stared blankly into the bottomless gorge. He stood there for quite a while until his ears heard someone’s calling, “Hey, Bald Monk! What are you doing up there?” He turned his body around to see who was calling him.

There on the hill in front of him stood six people. The one in front was an old man, but had a ruddy face. He was Zhou Botong. Next to him were three ladies, one of whom he knew as Huang Rong. The other two were Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang. Behind them were an elderly couple, one old monk with white hair and beard; the other was a lady in black. He didn’t know either Reverend Yideng or Yinggu. But he was a third part scared because he remembered Zhou Botong and recalled his high skill. He also knew Huang Rong’s level of martial arts. She was the Eastern Heretic’s daughter and the Northern Beggar’s disciple. He knew his martial arts were comparable to these Central Plains’ experts, yet he was saddened by Guo Xiang’s death. He didn’t have any keenness to fight. Thus he only said, “Miss Guo Xiang has fallen into this gorge …”

Hearing him, the six were very shocked, especially Huang Rong. “Was…was this true?” she asked, her voice quivered.

“Why would I lie to you?” answered Jinlun Fawang. “Isn’t this a piece of her clothing?” Then he waved the piece of cloth in his hand.

Huang Rong stared hard, and she recognized her daughter’s clothes. Her body was trembling, her mouth tightly shut.

Zhou Botong was raging mad. “Stinky Monk!” he barked, “Why did you kill her? Oh, you are so ruthless!”

“It wasn’t me,” Fawang answered meekly.

“Why would somebody jump down into the gorge without any reason?” shouted Botong. “You must have pushed her! Or you made her jump!”

Fawang shook his head. “No, I didn’t do either,” he countered, “I wanted to take her as my disciple, I wanted to make her my successor! Why would I do her any harm …?”

“Phooey!” Botong spat. “That was a really nice old fart! Her grandfather is the Old Master Huang! Her father is Guo Jing! Her mother is this little Huang Rong! Which of these three is not superior to you, Stinky Monk? Why in the world would she take you as her master and inherit your stinky skills? Even if I, the Old Urchin, have mastered only some ‘Three Legged Cat’ techniques, those techniques are far superior to your junk copper and rusty iron wheels!”

They were quite a distance apart, but the old man’s spit had reached Fawang, forcing him to elude it. That spit shot past like a bullet. Fawang was very impressed.

Botong was delighted with Fawang’s silence. He shouted again, “Didn’t she refuse to take you as her master? Weren’t you determined to take her as your disciple? Yes or no?”