Heaven-relying Sword And Dragon-slaying Sabre

Zhang Wuji's heart was stirred; he mused, "The right and wrong, black and white, in this world is really not easy to know. Zhou Gong was a great sage, but when he banished Guan Shu and Cai Shu, everyone said he was scheming to usurp the throne. Wang Mang was a great traitor, but when at first he bought the people's hearts, there wasn't anybody in this world who did not sing praises to him. I heard these two stories on the Bing Huo [ice and fire] Island from Yifu. This is the so-called 'the distant road tries the horse's strength, the course of time proves the man's heart'. A man's real character cannot be recognized in just a dawn-to-dusk period." Further, he thought, "These two floats are different than the rest of them. They obviously carry a profound meaning. The man who prepared them must have a character of scholarly knowledge." And then he silently recited that poem twice in his mind.

Suddenly he heard sounds like broken gongs. A float came by, pulled by a pair of thin horses. The float was very plain and simple without any decoration. As the crowd saw the float, they roared in laughter. "This ragged float also joins the 'Tour of the Imperial City', won't it be the laughingstock of the people?" they said. As the float got near, Zhang Wuji was able to see clearly and he was shocked! He saw a large man on the cart, with his long yellow hair reaching his shoulder. His eyes were closed, and he was sitting on a couch. What character did he play if not Jin Mao Shi Wang Xie Xun? Next to him stood a good-looking young woman wearing green, she had a teacup in her hands, as if she was attentively serving the man. Although her appearance was inferior to Zhou Zhiruo's beauty, her clothing and adornments were exactly the same as the ones she was wearing at the Wan An Temple Pagoda.

"Miss Zhou," Han Lin'er said in a low voice, "That girl looks like you."

"Hmmph," Zhou Zhiruo snorted, but did not say anything. Zhang Wuji turned his head and saw her complexion went pale, while her chest was heaving; he knew she was enraged. Thereupon he reached out to hold her right hand; while not fully understanding the intention behind this float.

The next float was still depicting the Xie Xun – Zhou Zhiruo story. The actor playing Zhou Zhiruo giggled while walking around toward the corner, then 'she' stretched out two fingers and suddenly struck 'Xie Xun's back with all 'her' might. "Ah!" the fake 'Xie Xun' exclaimed loudly, then collapsed to the couch. 'Zhou Zhiruo' lifted her foot to step on him, and then raised her sword ready to kill. The spectators broke in loud cheer, "Good! Good! Kill him!"

The third float of this 'Xie Xun – Zhou Zhiruo' theme depicted six or seven men dressed as beggars capturing the 'Xie Xun' and 'Zhou Zhiruo'.

By this time all doubts were gone from Zhang Wuji's mind; he knew these three floats were built by Zhao Min. Expecting Zhou Zhiruo and him to come to Dadu, she arranged for these floats to humiliate Zhou Zhiruo. He stooped down to pick several small pebbles from the ground, and lightly flicked them with his middle finger. 'Swish, swish!' the right eyes of the pair of horses pulling the third float were blinded. The pebbles entered the horses' brains. With long neigh, those horses fell down to the ground, dead. The float flipped over and the actors rolled down to the ground. The street was thrown into chaos.

Zhao Zhiruo bit her lower lip and said quietly, "This witch insulted me this way, I … I …" Speaking to this point, her voice turned into sobs.

Zhang Wuji felt her hand was ice-cold, her body trembled; hastily he tried to assure her, "Zhiruo, this little ***** [orig. 'muddy egg'] can think of hundreds of weird tricks, don't pay her any attention. As long as I know your sincerity, even if others sow dissension, how is it possible for me to believe them?"

"Ah, I remember," Zhou Zhiruo suddenly said, "That day Yifu was fine, before he suddenly convulsed and fell down to the floor, and then he started talking deliriously. Could it be … could it be that at that time this witch was hiding in that inn and she shot a secret projectile toward Yifu's back?"

Zhang Wuji pondered for a moment before saying, "If she made her move then, she might still have enough time to make it to the Mi Le Temple in time. But based on her martial art skill, I don't think she could evade Yifu's detection. I am leaning more toward the Xuanming Elders who attacked him."

While they were talking, the Mongolian soldiers had already pushed the people back and cleared up the street from the dead horses, so that the procession of floats could continue. Zhang Wuji and Zhou Zhiruo's minds were still occupied by the recent events and they did not have any interest in watching the subsequent floats.

After the last float passed by, they heard intermittent sound of Buddhist monks chanting, followed by the appearance of row after row of foreign monks in red kasaya. After these monks, they heard the tinkling of iron armor, as two thousands 'Yu Lin Jun' [special force, the Emperor's personal bodyguards] troops, in full armor, each one with a lance in his hand, made their appearance, followed by three thousand archers.

These idols were followed by guards of honor, carrying ceremonial articles like golden gourd, golden hammer and so on. Next, came feathered fans and jeweled parasols in pairs. The crowd called out, "The Emperor is here! The Emperor is here!" as from a distant came a large sedan chair covered in yellow silk, carried by thirty-two 'shi wei' [This is also personal bodyguards of the Emperor. Perhaps someone out there can explain the difference between Shi Wei and Yu Lin Jun] wearing embroidered clothes.

Zhang Wuji focused his attention to see the Mongolian Emperor. He noticed that the Emperor's countenance was thin, pallid, and dispirited. In just one glance it was obvious that he indulged in wine. The Crown Prince rode a horse next to the sedan chair. Contrary to his expectations, the Crown Prince actually showed a heroic spirit. He had a gilded long bow, inlaid with jade, on his shoulder; truly fit the image of a Mongolian young hero.

"Jiaozhu," Han Lin'er whispered on Zhang Wuji's ear, "Let subordinate make an assault, with a stab of my blade I can assassinate the Tartar Emperor, and thus rid the common people of one big evil."

"No, you can't go!" Zhang Wuji said, "The Tartar Emperor is surrounded by martial art masters as his guards. If we are going to do it, I am the one who must go."

"That is inappropriate," suddenly the man standing on Zhang Wuji's left opened his mouth, "Replacing one tyrant with another, I have never seen it work."

Zhang Wuji, Han Lin'er and Zhou Zhiruo were startled; they turned to see this man, and saw he was about fifty years of age, dressed like a medicine peddler, carrying a medicine sack on his back, his right hand held a tiger-head stick. That man turned his thumb up and put his hand in front of his chest, making a Ming Cult's blazing fire signal, and said in a low voice, "Peng Yingyu pays his respects to Jiaozhu. Jiaozhu is well, I am very happy."