4

Cheng Yuanyu Pays for a Meal at a Restaurant

Lady Eleventh Explains Swordsmanship on Mount Cloud

In the words of an ode,

Red Thread in her reincarnation

Sought immortality after her masterstroke.

Lady Invisible rode a donkey of Wei

That faded away after each use.

Fragrant Pellet wielded her blade

Through curling wisps of incense.

Mr. Cui’s woman, wrapped in white silk,

Disappeared in the middle of the night.

The old lady knight-errant with armbands

Hid her protégées in a statue’s ear.

The merchant’s wife took her son’s life

To end the pain of separation.

Xie Xun, when taking a new wife,

Used her funds for the journey by land and water.

Sanhuan, retrieving lost rosary beads,

Was undeterred by rightly closed pagoda gates.

The woman from the chariot

Took a prisoner through a one-foot hole.

The above poem gives a list of women knights-errant of olden times. They were among the legions of disciples, male and female, of their school of martial arts, which has been in existence since time immemorial. Even though it is not the most orthodox school, its practitioners devote themselves to rooting out evil and fostering virtue. Those with consummate mastery of the skills earn immortality. Some busybody compiled a collection of their stories, titled Biographies of Knights-Errant. Stories about female masters of martial arts were put together in a separate volume titled Biographies of Women Knights-Errant.

Of the women listed in the above poem, Red Thread was a maidservant in the employ of Regional Commander Xue Song of Luzhou [present-day southern Shanxi]. After learning that Regional Commander Tian Chengsi of Weibo [in present-day Hebei], with his three-thousand-strong private army, was bent on annexing Luzhou, Commander Xue Song brooded over the news day and night. When she found out the reason for his dejection, Red Thread showed her true colors as a master of martial arts. She flew to Weibo in the middle of the night over a distance of 350 li, took the gold box next to Commander Tian’s pillow, and brought it to Commander Xue’s residence. The next day, while a search for the gold box was under way in Weibo, sending waves of fear throughout the army, Commander Xue dispatched a messenger to return the box to Commander Tian. The latter was appalled, for he knew this must have been the work of a knight-errant. Afraid that his own head would be the next missing object, he abandoned his evil plot. Later, Red Thread explained that she had been a man in a previous incarnation and was made a woman in this incarnation as punishment for unintentionally taking a life by prescribing the wrong medicine. Now that she had redeemed herself, she left to seek immortality. So much for the reference to Red Thread in the poem.

Lady Invisible, surname Nie, was the daughter of the great general Nie Feng of Weibo. Early in her childhood, she ran into a mendicant old nun, who whisked her off and taught her magic powers. After she grew up and married, she and her husband each rode a lame donkey, one black and one white. Since the donkeys were native to Wei [in present-day Henan], they were also known as the donkeys of Wei. Whenever they were not being ridden, they disappeared from view because they were made of paper. Commander Nie of Weibo, whom Lady Invisible and her husband served as personal guards, had a falling-out with Regional Commander Liu Changyi of Chenxu [in present-day Henan] and ordered Lady Invisible to kill him. As it turned out, Commander Liu, quite the fortune-teller, anticipated the arrival of Lady Invisible and her husband. He told a general to go to the north gate of the city to wait for them, adding, “That couple will be riding donkeys—one black, one white. As soon as you see them, pass down my orders and have your men greet them with respect.”

When she arrived, Lady Invisible was so impressed by Commander Liu’s divine foresight that she switched sides and entered Liu’s service instead. The commander of Weibo, on learning of her change of allegiance, dispatched a certain Jingjing’er to kill her, but she made short work of the assassin. Then a grand master of kung fu, a certain Kongkong’er, was dispatched. Lady Invisible changed herself into a tiny bug, flew into Commander Liu’s mouth, and told him to put a Hetian jade necklace around his neck. When Kongkong’er arrived at the third watch of the night and tried to slash Commander Liu’s throat with a dagger, the dagger made a clanking sound against the necklace but failed to cut through it. Kongkong’er was so mortified that he took himself to a place a thousand li away and never returned, leaving Commander Liu and Lady Invisible unscathed. So much for the reference to Lady Invisible.

Let us now turn to Fragrant Pellet, who lived with her maid on Guanyin Lane. A scholar taking a leisurely walk happened to lay eyes on her, and her beauty raised a flutter in his heart. But several delinquent youths hanging around him spoke ill of her, making her out to be a woman of easy virtue. These malicious words filled the scholar with disdain for her. When he returned home and told his wife about what he had heard, his wife told him that the woman was in fact a member of her clan and was a noble-spirited and eccentric woman who was regarded with awe and veneration by all the other members of the clan. The scholar was seized with righteous anger and wanted to seek revenge on these youths on the woman’s behalf. Before he had an opportunity to do so, Fragrant Pellet’s maid came to thank him, saying, “Even though you have not yet put your wish into action, my mistress is profoundly grateful to you for your kind intentions.” She then invited him to her mistress’s house for a drink. As he sat drinking all by himself, the maid approached him, carrying a leather bag on her back. “This is a gift from my mistress,” said she.

Opening the bag, what did the scholar see but three or four human heads, still looking quite alive? They belonged to men who had previously done the scholar harm. The scholar gave a violent start. Afraid of being implicated, he hastened to flee, but the maid stopped him. “Don’t be afraid!” said she as she retrieved a packet containing a shining white powder from her bosom. She picked some up with the nail of her little finger and flicked the powder onto the cuts on the heads. Before their very eyes, the heads began to shrink until they were reduced to the size of plums. The maid ate them one by one, spitting out the pits as she did so. After she finished eating the last one, she said to the scholar, “My mistress wants you, sir, to avenge her and kill those delinquent youths.”

The scholar thanked her before saying, “How could I be capable of such a thing?”

The maid said, while presenting him with a fragrant incense pellet, “You don’t have to do anything. You need only sweep the study clean, light this incense pellet in the incense burner, and go where the strand of incense smoke is blown, and it will be done.” Then she gave him that leather bag and continued, “Take this bag for collecting human heads. Just follow the strand of incense smoke, and it will lead you home. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

The scholar did as he was told. Wherever the curling incense smoke went, there was light, and the walls yielded to him. Every time he encountered one of those delinquent youths, the strand of smoke went around the youth’s neck three times and the head would fall. No one in the youth’s family was any the wiser. The scholar then deposited the head in the bag. After the same scenario repeated several times, our scholar followed the curling incense smoke all the way back. He arrived home before the drum had sounded the third watch, feeling as if it had all been but a dream.

Now that his mission had been accomplished, the fragrant incense pellet flew off, and the maid appeared. As before, she took the heads, flicked powder on them, and ate them. To the scholar, she said, “My mistress has a message for you, sir. This is the Fear Test. Once you pass the test, you can just pack for your journey to the realm of the immortals.” No one knew where the scholar went thereafter, nor did anyone learn the names of the woman and the scholar. Record of the Fragrant Incense Pellet is the only extant reminder of the event.

Let us come to Mr. Cui’s woman. In the Zhenyuan reign period [785–805] of the Tang dynasty, a Mr. Cui Shensi of Boling [in present-day Hebei] went to the capital to sit for the national civil-service examination and rented a house from a beautiful unmarried woman in her early thirties. Cui Shensi engaged a matchmaker and proposed marriage, but the woman turned him down, saying to the matchmaker, “I’m not from an official’s family, so it would be a mismatch in family status. He’ll regret it in the future. I can only be his concubine.” Whereupon she moved in with him. After two years, a son was born. During all this time, she never answered questions as to her surname.

One night, Cui Shensi woke up in the wee hours of the morning and realized that she was missing from their bed. Suspecting infidelity on her part, he walked into the main hall and paced to and fro in anger. Suddenly, the woman, wrapped in white, came down from the roof, carrying a dagger in her right hand and a human head in her left hand. She said to Mr. Cui, “My father was killed unjustly at the county magistrate’s order some years ago. I’ve been seeking revenge without success, until now. My mission is accomplished, so I mustn’t stay any longer.” After telling Mr. Cui that she bequeathed the house to him, she scaled the wall and was gone. Mr. Cui was aghast. But she returned a few moments later, saying she wanted to breastfeed the baby one more time. In the twinkling of an eye, she reemerged and said to Mr. Cui, “We’ll never meet again.” With that, she disappeared from view. When he went back into the house, Mr. Cui found their son dead. She had done this to spare herself the pain of longing for the child. So much for “Mr. Cui’s woman, wrapped in white silk.”

The story about the old lady knight-errant was told by Xiurong, concubine of Yuan Yong. In her childhood, when her neighborhood became overrun by bandits, an old lady came to her mother and said, “Your family has accumulated much credit for your kind deeds, so you have nothing to fear from the bandits. I’ll surely hide you in a safe place.” She withdrew two feet of black satin from her sleeves, tore it into strips, told them to wear one on an arm, and said, “Follow me.”

After she took Xiurong and her mother into a Daoist temple, she pointed at the statue of a god and said, “You can hide in his ear.” She told Xiurong and her mother to close their eyes while she put them on her back and then into the statue’s ear. It was a small statue, but the mother and daughter found the ear to be as large as a room and did not feel cramped in the least. The old lady came to see them twice every day and brought them food and beverages. The ear hole was only the size of a finger, but it grew large as soon as food and beverages were delivered. Later, after order was restored in the neighborhood, the old lady put them on her back as before and delivered them to their home. Xiurong asked to be taken on as an apprentice of the old lady’s and vowed to live a life of self-denial and mortification of the flesh in order to repay the old lady’s kindness, but the old lady declined her request, saying, “You’re not yet ready for the cultivation of celestial qualities.” Later, the old lady went away, none knew whither. So much for the old lady knight-errant and the ear of the deity’s statue.

The story about the merchant’s wife is similar to the one about Cui Shensi’s woman. Wang Li, sheriff of Yugan County, met a beautiful woman at a moment when his term of office had expired and his new appointment was still pending. Claiming that she had been a widow for ten years and that her deceased husband, a merchant, had left her quite a sizable fortune, she married Wang Li and later had a son. As in the story about Cui’s wife, she also came home one day carrying a human head, saying that she had avenged herself and must leave the capital city at once. She took her leave but soon came back to, in her own words, “breastfeed the baby and end the pain of separation.” She left after spending some time with the baby. When Wang Li returned and lit a lamp, he found the baby dead. Cui’s woman had done the same thing the merchant’s wife did.

Xie Xun, a military officer of the Song dynasty, was stranded in the north during the Jingkang Incident [1126].1 His clansmen took pity on him in his forlornness and made a match for him with a woman who had enough dowry to support him. When the Double Ninth Festival came around, he thought of his ex-wife and shed tears.2 Upon inquiry, his new wife learned that he wished to return to the Song territory in the south, so she used her funds for their journey south by land and by water. All along the way, she took care of all matters related to their lodging and protection. Upon arrival, he was overjoyed to meet his brother, Xie Qian, whose military exploits had won him the post of grand marshal. His brother gave him four maidservants by way of a gift. Xie Xun was so taken with them that he gradually distanced himself from his wife. One day, she asked him reproachfully at the dinner table, “Have you forgotten how you had begged for food in the north? If it had not been for me, you would have starved to death. Now that things are going well for you, you forget everything I’ve done for you. This is not the behavior of a worthy man.”

Tipsy from the wine, Xie Xun flew into a rage on hearing these words. His fists rained down on the woman. She put up with him, all the while wearing a scornful smile on her lips. As Xie Xun continued to yell at her and spit on her, she suddenly rose to her feet. The lights dimmed, and a chill filled the air. The four concubines prostrated themselves on the floor in panic. They rose a moment later when the candles flickered back into flames, only to find Xie Xun lying on the floor dead, minus his head. The wife and all the objects in the room had vanished without a trace. Xie Qian, on hearing the news, sent three thousand men on a massive search, but all to no avail. So much for “Xie Xun taking a new wife.”

Now, about Sanhuan. A general by the name of Pan lost his string of rosary beads, and his searches for it turned up nothing. The fact was that in a game with some friends, Sanhuan had tossed it onto the wheel of dharma atop the pagoda of Mercy Temple. After the Pan family offered a hefty reward for the retrieval of the string, her uncle Wang Chao asked her if she would undertake the job. She agreed. When she reached the temple, the gate had just been opened, but the pagoda door remained locked. Like a bird on the wing, she flew up to the top of the pagoda, waved to her uncle, picked up the string of rosaries, and came down. Wang Chao took it, presented it to the general, and claimed the reward for himself. The next day, the woman was gone.

What about the woman from the chariot? Well, a scholar from Wu County went to the capital to take the imperial examinations. Two young men ushered him into his lodging. Soon after he sat down, a chariot drove through the gate into the courtyard. A woman alighted from it and asked the candidate for the examinations to show everyone his skills. Our candidate could do no more than take a few steps on the wall in his boots. The woman then turned to the young men and asked them to demonstrate their prowess. One walked on the wall, and the other moved along the roof of the house by holding on to the rafters—both with the lightness and agility of birds. Our candidate was overcome with awe and admiration. The woman and the young men then took their leave.

After a few days, the two young men came back and asked our candidate to loan them his horse, a request that our candidate found impossible to decline. The next day it was announced that the imperial palace had been burglarized and that only the horse carrying the stolen objects had been tracked down. When our candidate was found to be the owner of the horse, he was taken to the Imperial Household Department for interrogation. After he was led through a small gate, an officer behind him pushed him into a seventy- or eighty-foot-deep pit. The only light came from the opening at the top, which was less than two feet wide. In his misery, our candidate suddenly saw a birdlike object flying down to him. It turned out to be none other than the woman from the chariot. She tied one end of a silk ribbon to the candidate’s arm and the other end to herself and flew out of the pit to a place dozens of li beyond the city gate. There, she deposited him on the ground and said, “Go home, sir. This is no place for you.” Our candidate begged his way to his hometown in the Wu region.

This woman from the chariot is something of a thief and a robber, as is Sanhuan, quite unlike the other women listed in the poem. The right way to achieve immortality is to redress wrongs and deliver people from distress and danger. But one needs to know that such people do exist in this world of ours, which is why they are recorded in history and surely not made up by this storyteller.

And now let me tell of another female master of martial arts who rescued a gentleman in distress and delivered a brilliant speech on swordsmanship that had not been heard from the dawn of history. There is a quatrain in testimony:

Retrieving the beads was but child’s play;

The chariot lady caused only woe.

Listen to what Lady Wei has to say:

Honesty is the only way to go.

Our story proper is about a merchant in Huizhou Prefecture [in Anhui], Cheng Deyu, courtesy name Yuanyu. Honest and prudent, he was a man of few words and averse to frivolity. He plied his trade in the Sichuan and Shaanxi regions and made sizable profits from the business. One day, he put together what he had made and packed for his journey home with his servant. We need hardly say that his horse and his servant’s beast of burden were both heavily laden. When they reached an area between Wenzhou and Jiezhou [in present-day Gansu], they stopped to buy wine and food at a restaurant where other patrons were also seated.

As Chen Yuanyu and his servant were engaged with their meals, a woman dismounted from her donkey at the door and entered the restaurant. Cheng Yuanyu raised his head and saw that the newcomer was about thirty years old, with well-formed facial features but a little formidable in her attire and her martial posture. The other patrons in the restaurant wagged their heads, gawked at her, and talked about her, all the while making wild conjectures. Cheng Yuanyu was the only exception. He remained sitting properly in his seat and turned his eyes away from the woman after the first glance. This fact was not lost on her. After she finished her meal, she raised her hands, shook her sleeves, and said, “I forgot to bring money. What am I going to do now that I’ve already taken advantage of the restaurant owner’s generosity?”

Those who had been gawking at her burst into laughter. One said, “So, she’s here for a free meal!” Another said, “Maybe she really forgot to bring money.” Still another said, “She looks like someone who belongs to a gang. Definitely not a law-abiding woman. (MC: Too many people judge others by their looks.) What’s so surprising about her trying to get a free meal?”

On hearing that she had no money, a young waiter seized her and would not let go. The owner said furiously, “In these times of peace and order, how can anyone eat without paying?”

The woman said only “I didn’t bring money. I’ll repay you next time.”

“But who will recognize you the next time you come?” said the owner.

In the midst of the commotion, Cheng Yuanyu walked up and said, “This lady does not look like someone to whom a few pennies would make a difference. I believe she did forget to bring money with her. Why make things so difficult for her?” (MC: A soul mate.) Producing a string of coins from his waist pocket, he continued, “Her meal is on me.”

Only then did the waiter release her. He added up the items in her order and took the money.

The woman approached Cheng Yuanyu and said with one bow after another, “You, sir, are a real gentleman. May I ask your honorable name, so that I can repay you twice as much?”

Cheng Yuanyu replied, “Such a trifling matter is not even worth mentioning! You need not repay me, nor is it necessary to know my name.” (MC: Yes, a real gentleman.)

“Don’t say that! You’re in for a little shock on the road ahead. I’ll be doing something to repay you for your kindness. That’s why I ask your name. Please don’t conceal it from me. If you want to know mine, just remember that I’m Lady Wei the Eleventh.”

Finding her words somewhat enigmatic, Cheng Yuanyu obliged and told her his name.

The woman said, “I’m going to the western part of the city to see a relative and will be back in the eastern part soon enough.” So saying, she mounted her donkey, flicked it with her whip, and rode off with the speed of the wind.

After leaving the restaurant on horseback with his servant, Cheng Yuanyu kept wondering about the woman’s enigmatic words. Then he said to himself, “But why should I take a woman’s words so seriously? What’s more, if she couldn’t even pay for a meal, how can I expect such a person to come to my aid when something happens to me?”

When he had gone several li in this frame of mind, he began to notice a man who constantly entered his line of vision, sometimes appearing before him and sometimes lagging behind him. Wearing a felt hat on his head and bearing a leather bag on his back, the man had the look of a seasoned long-distance traveler. From horseback, Cheng Yuanyu asked him, “Where can I find lodging down the road?”

The man replied, “Sixty li from here there’s a Yangsong Town with lodgings for traveling merchants. There’s nothing nearer than that.”

Cheng Yuanyu had heard of Yangsong Town, so he said, “It’s kind of late now. Can I make it before it gets dark?”

Raising his head, the man looked at the sun before replying, “I can, but you can’t.”

“Surely you jest!” said Cheng Yuanyu. “I’m on a horse. Why can you, traveling on foot, make it and I can’t? What do you mean?”

The man explained with a smile, “There’s a shortcut that goes diagonally to the bay for about twenty li. Another twenty li, and you’ll be there in the town. But if you take the zigzagging high road, you’ll be traveling twenty extra li, which is why I say you won’t be able to make it.”

Cheng Yuanyu said, “May I trouble you to take me to the shortcut? We can travel together. I’ll treat you to wine when we get to the town.”

The man went merrily ahead of Cheng Yuanyu and said, “All right, follow me!”

Lured by the mention of a shortcut and feeling safe with someone who looked like an experienced hiker, Cheng Yuanyu forgot all about the woman’s warning. (MC: Those lured by petty gains will suffer major losses.) He and his servant, riding on their animals, followed the man to the supposed shortcut. It began as a smooth path, easy to ride on, but after more than one li, it began to get rocky and posed quite a challenge to the animals. A little farther on, a tall hill loomed before them, blocking their way. They went around the hill, only to enter a dense forest that shut out the sky. Both Cheng Yuanyu and his servant panicked. Reproachfully, Cheng Yuanyu said to the man, “Why did you take us on this path?”

Affably the man said, “It will get smooth up ahead!”

Much against his will, Cheng Yuanyu continued to follow him. After going around another hill, the terrain became even more rugged. Realizing that he had been tricked, Cheng Yuanyu cried out, “Oh no!” He promptly turned his horse around, but at this point, the man whistled loudly, and a group of men appeared in front of the hill.

With hideous features, of vigorous build,

They kill under cover of night

And commit arson when the wind is high.

They claim to follow the Dao

And borrow the rhetoric of the scholars.

They can find no just reason for their acts,

Yet they steal the strategies of the generals.

They may go by the epithet of “bandits,”

But they make up half of the upper classes today.

Seeing that things had taken such an ugly turn, Cheng Yuanyu knew there was no possibility of getting out of it. So he scrambled off his horse and said with a deep bow, “Oh, mighty ones, please take all my valuables but spare the saddle horse and my clothes, so that I may have enough left to make my way back home.”

Sure enough, the bandits took only his parcels, emptied all his silver out of them, and went away. By the time Cheng Yuanyu turned around to check what was left for him, his horse had broken the reins and vanished from sight, and his servant, trying to hide, had also fled none knew whither. All alone by his forlorn self, he ascended to the top of a hillock and looked around. His servant and his horse were nowhere to be seen, let alone the bandits, and there was no sign of human habitation as far as his eyes could see. In the gathering darkness (IC: Cause for alarm.), he had no idea what to do. With a sigh, he said, “I’m as good as dead!”

At this desperate moment, he heard the sound of rustling tree leaves. He turned around, and what should he see but a human figure approaching him with light and airy steps through the dense foliage? Only when the person was right in front of him did Cheng Yuanyu see that it was a woman. Much relieved on seeing her, he was about to address her when she suddenly raised one hand in a Daoist salute to him and said, “I’m Blue Mist, disciple of Lady Wei the Eleventh. My teacher knew that you, sir, were in for a shock and told me to wait here for you. My teacher is farther ahead. Please go and meet her.”

When he heard that it was Lady Wei the Eleventh and realized that her prediction of “a shock” had come true, Cheng Yuanyu felt emboldened enough to follow Blue Mist, hoping for a rescue. Before they had gone half a li, the woman he had met in the restaurant came up to greet him. “I apologize for not having come earlier to get you out of your plight,” said she. “But I’ve recovered your valuables, and your horse and your servant are here. Don’t worry.”

Cheng Yuanyu had been so sick with fear that his voice failed him.

Lady Wei the Eleventh continued, “You must not travel tonight, sir. My humble house is not far from here. Please have supper at my house and stay the night there before continuing on your way.”

In no position to do otherwise, Cheng Yuanyu followed her to her home.

After going around two hillocks, they saw, standing alone, a tall, steep mountain whose peak reached into the clouds. Lady Wei the Eleventh pointed to it and said, “That’s Mount Cloud. My humble house is at the very top.” (MC: Only masters of magic arts can live in such a place.) She led Cheng Yuanyu up the mountain by grabbing vines and trees hand over hand. At dangerously steep spots, Lady Wei and Blue Mist supported him and stopped for a rest every few steps. He was badly out of breath, while the two women moved as if they were on flat ground. Every time Cheng Yuanyu raised his head to look at the mountaintop, he saw that it was lost in clouds and mist, but when he reached a greater height, he found himself above the clouds and the mist. More than ten li farther on, they finally reached a flight of stone stairs with about a hundred steps. The stairs led to a flat courtyard with an exquisite thatched cottage. After Cheng Yuanyu sat down in it upon request, Lady Wei the Eleventh called forth another maidservant named Floating Cloud and had her serve tea, fruit, wild herbs, pine-nut wine, and rice. Indeed, they waited on him hand and foot.

Now that he had calmed down, Cheng Yuanyu half rose from his chair out of respect and said, “I carelessly fell into a trap. If it hadn’t been for you, madam, I would have been a dead man. But what magic power did you use, madam, to recover my belongings?”

“I’m a knight-errant, not just any woman. When we were in the restaurant, I was impressed by your dignity, which set you apart from that frivolous lot. That’s why I have such respect for you. I detected in your face some signs of imminent danger, so I falsely claimed that I didn’t have the money to pay for my meal. It was just to test you. When it became evident that you’re a man of honor, I made a point of staying here to wait for you as repayment for your kindness. As for those scoundrels who terrorized you, I’ve taught them a lesson.”

Cheng Yuanyu was overcome with delight and admiration. Being well versed in history from the time he was a child, he knew of the existence of such magic arts. He said, “As far as I know, the art of swordsmanship you practice originated during the Tang dynasty and came to an end in the Song dynasty, which is why nothing was known about it from the Yuan dynasty to this dynasty [Ming]. So where did you learn your art, madam?”

Lady Eleventh replied, “This art did not originate during the Tang dynasty, nor did it end in the Song dynasty. It was in existence when the Yellow Emperor received books on the art of war from the Heavenly Maiden.3 It was from these books that the emperor’s retainer Fenghou acquired the skills with which he defeated Chiyou. The Yellow Emperor was fearful that the miraculous art could be abused. This, coupled with the Lord on High’s strict rules, made the Yellow Emperor decide not to popularize the art. Instead, he chose only one or two men of faith and passed on the art orally, which is why the art has not been lost, but it has never gained popularity either. Later, it came to be used by the man hired by Zhang Liang to assassinate the First Emperor of Qin, by the Prince of Liang against Yuan Ang, by Gongsun Shu against Generals Lai and Cen, and by Li Shidao against Prime Minister Wu Yuanheng.4 This art is by no means easy to acquire. Governors of the strategically positioned outlying prefectures in the Tang dynasty so admired it that in their eagerness to learn it, they hired mysterious men of unannounced comings and goings, and those of a mercenary mind recklessly entered into their service. This gave rise to the belief that it thrived only in the Tang dynasty. In fact, these people violated the laws of the Lord on High, which is why they all died grisly deaths. Therefore, teachers of the art, drawing lessons from the past, always admonished against unauthorized teachings, indiscriminate killings, harming the good on behalf of the evil, and killing and claiming credit for the art. (IC: That was why Lu Qi, evil minister of the Tang dynasty, was unable to recruit worthy men.)5 It was these strict warnings that stopped Zhao Yuanhao’s man from assassinating Duke Han of Wei and the assassin sent by Miao Fu and Liu Zhengyan from killing Zhang Deyuan.6 They were afraid of violating the rules.”

At this point, Cheng Yuanyu commented, “The history books make no mention of the art when describing the Yellow Emperor’s battle against Chiyou and Zhang Liang’s hiring of an assassin. And the assassins sent by the king of Liang, Gongsun Shu, and Li Shidao are all said to have been bandits. Where did the art come in?”

Lady Eleventh countered, “You’re quite mistaken, sir. That’s because we don’t claim credit for our art. Chiyou, with his strange appearance and his magic powers, was surely not defeated by regular war strategies. And how awe-inspiring was the First Emperor of Qin with his majestic procession! Moreover, with the laws of Qin as draconian as they were, who would have dared attack him? And no ordinary assassin could escape after attacking him.7 With regard to the other cases, Yuan Ang being a trusted retainer of the emperor, Generals Lai and Cen being as important as they were, and Wu Yuanheng being the prime minister, how could anyone who lacked the divine art kill them in a large crowd or by their chariots? Moreover, Wu Yuanheng’s assassin even took his skull. Who could have taken the time to do that in the haste of the moment? Actually, the history books make it clear enough. It’s just that you, sir, never bothered to devote much thought to it.” (MC: Excellent argument.)

Cheng Yuanyu said, “It’s just as you say with the history books. The assassins as described by the Grand Historian must have been masters of this art.8 In the case of Jingke assassinating the First Emperor of Qin, Jingke’s swordsmanship is said to have been mediocre.9 Does it follow that the other assassins covered in that volume were masters of the art?”

Lady Eleventh said, “The Grand Historian got it wrong. The First Emperor of Qin, however ruthless, was an emperor mandated by Heaven. How could a true swordsman use his art lightly on such a man? As for assassins Zhuanzhu and Nie Zheng, they were brave men driven by their sense of loyalty and honor. They did not possess the art. If you think they did, then all those who kill recklessly and lose their lives while killing can claim to be true swordsmen!”

“What about Kunlun Mole?”10

“He was too shallow! Lady Nie the Invisible and Red Thread were the real masters. Kunlun Mole was accomplished in the physical skills and applied them in overcoming all manner of difficulties, but Lady Invisible and Red Thread were on a higher plane—they used their minds, the mysterious workings of which were beyond the ken of ghosts and spirits. They were able to go through the eyes of needles and hide themselves on the surface of a city wall. They could travel a thousand li in a trice and leave no trace of their comings and goings. How could they possibly lack the true art?”

Cheng Yuanyu said, “According to ‘The Curly-Bearded Knight,’ the man ate the head of his enemy.11 How could a true swordsman seek personal revenge?”

“No. What you said about the man with curly whiskers is but a story, not a fact. Even in seeking revenge, one must make a distinction between right and wrong. If I was in the wrong, I wouldn’t dream of using my art to avenge myself.” (MC: Clearly, practitioners of this art can earn immortality precisely because their hearts are in the right place.)

“What are the leading reasons for revenge among masters of the art?”

“They can be classified into several clusters, none of which are based on personal reasons. For starters, there are those local officials who torment the people, take their money, and do away with them. There are those judges who abuse power, fawn on their superiors, and persecute men of integrity. There are those generals who misappropriate soldiers’ pay and do so little work that they lose the empire’s border regions to invaders. There are those court ministers who cultivate their own henchmen and plot against those who are not in their camp, rewarding the evil and punishing the good. There are those civil service examination officials who make private deals, take bribes, seek personal gain, and mix black and white by letting untalented candidates pass the exams while flunking the real scholars. All those I just listed deserve extermination. (MC: That leaves few people exempt from extermination.) As for slimy petty officials and local despots, they fall under the jurisdiction of the Department of Justice, and the God of Thunder takes care of unfilial sons and heartless ingrates. They’re no concern of mine.”

“I’ve never heard of any master swordsmen putting away the ones on your hit list.”

Lady Eleventh said with a smile, “But that’s hardly something to be made public! There are any number of ways to do away with such people. The more heinous offenders get their heads cut off, and those of their wives and offspring as well. The lesser offenders may suffer a slit throat or injuries to their vital organs. Their family members think they died sudden deaths, without knowing the real cause and how it happened. Or their souls could be snatched away to make them lose their senses and die in mental confusion. Or a spell could be cast on their households so that one scandal follows another until they die from rage or broken hearts. As for those whose number is not up yet, they can be given nightmares so that they experience fear.”

“Could you do a demonstration of your swordsmanship for me?”

“I’m not going to do an elaborate one because I don’t want to frighten you. But a simpler demonstration shouldn’t do any harm.”

Thereupon, she summoned Blue Mist and Floating Cloud and gave them these instructions: “Mr. Cheng asked for a swordsmanship demonstration. You do one for him right here on the cliff.” The two girls acknowledged the order. Lady Eleventh extracted two pellets from her sleeve and tossed them into the air. They reached a height of several hundred feet before they began to fall. The two girls leaped onto the tip of a tree branch and caught them squarely in their palms. Each gave her pellet a swipe, and it became a dazzling dagger. The tree branch they were standing on was bending low over an unfathomably deep ravine. One little peek over the cliff gave Cheng Yuanyu goose bumps all over. His soul took flight; his hair stood on end. But Lady Eleventh went on talking and laughing without losing her composure. The movements of the two girls were discernible at first but quickly became faster, until only two white ribbons were seen swirling up and down in the air and the girls were lost to view. This went on for about as long as it would take to eat a meal, after which time they alighted from the branch, not in the least out of breath or flushed in the face.

Cheng Yuanyu sighed in admiration and said, “Their skills are truly out of this world!”

Night was well advanced by this time. A quilt plus a deer-skin coat were spread out on a bamboo couch for Cheng Yuanyu. Lady Eleventh and the two girls curtsied to him and retired to a stone chamber. It was only the eighth lunar month of the year, but Cheng Yuanyu still felt cold under the layers of bedding. He was on top of a high mountain, after all.

Before daybreak, Lady Eleventh was already up and had finished her toilette. Cheng Yuanyu also washed and did his hair and went out to greet her. In response to his profuse thanks, she said, “No, this rustic mountain dwelling is too humble for me to be a good hostess.”

After breakfast, Lady Eleventh had Blue Mist take her bow and arrows and go downhill to hunt game for their lunch. After a while, Blue Mist came back empty-handed, saying that it was still too early in the day. Lady Eleventh then sent Floating Cloud down. Before long, Floating Cloud returned with a pheasant and a rabbit. In great delight, Lady Eleventh told Blue Mist to cook them in honor of their guest. Cheng Yuanyu asked in puzzlement, “Are there so few pheasants and rabbits in the mountains that they are so hard to find?”

Lady Eleventh replied, “Actually, there’s no lack of them in the mountains, but finding them is the hard part because they’re deeply hidden.”

Cheng Yuanyu laughed. “With your divine powers, what’s to stop you from hunting down a pheasant and a rabbit?”

“I’m afraid you’ve got it wrong, sir. How can one use this art to take a life just to fill one’s stomach? The heavenly principles forbid this. Besides, we mustn’t waste our art on such trifles. In hunting pheasants and rabbits and the like, just bows, arrows, and human muscles suffice.”

Cheng Yuanyi was greatly impressed. After a few rounds of drinks, he asked, “May I learn something about your family background?”

Looking deferential but ill at ease, Lady Eleventh took a moment or two to answer. “There’s so much that embarrasses me. But I guess there’s no harm in telling everything to someone as kind and as honorable as you are. I’m a native of Chang’an [present-day Xi’an]. My parents were poor. They took me to Pingliang [in Gansu], where they made a living as artisans. Then my father died, leaving me and my mother alone in the world. Two years thereafter, my mother married me to a man named Zheng in the same neighborhood. Then my mother remarried. My husband turned out to be a debauched scoundrel with a passion for the wandering life of a knight-errant. My pleas to him to change his ways only led to a falling-out with him. He left me and went to the frontier with some good-for-nothing friends of his, to prove his worth. He’s never been heard of since. His older brother, by no means a decent man, said improper words to me, but I firmly rejected his advances. One day he sneaked up to my bed. I picked up my sword from my bedside and lunged at him. He went away after he was wounded. As a woman, I was unable to get along with my husband, and once abandoned, I found it unseemly to live with his brother in the same place. And after I wounded him, I couldn’t live there any longer.

“A Daoist nun named Zhao had been very kind to me when I was small and said she could pass down her magic art to me. When my parents were alive, I was not at liberty to have my own way, but at that point I made up my mind to throw myself on her mercy. I went to see her the very next day. She accepted me joyfully. She said, ‘You must leave that place. Why don’t you move to my nunnery in the mountains?’ She took me up a mountain that was even steeper than this one. There, in a round hut at its very top, she taught me her art and went down the mountain by herself at dusk. Before she departed to let me sleep alone, she gave me this advice: ‘Whatever you do, don’t drink alcohol or indulge in debauchery.’ I thought, ‘How would I do those things in these remote mountains?’ I promised her but didn’t think much about her admonition.

“As I lay in bed in the round hut, a man showed up in the middle of the night. He had entered by scaling the wall, and he was so handsome that he was a marvel to the eyes. I rose in alarm and asked him who he was. He didn’t reply, nor did he step back when I told him to. Instead, he came up to me and tried to gather me in his arms. The more I resisted him, the more adamant he became. As I unsheathed my sword against him, he did the same against me. He was a master swordsman, whereas I was but a beginner. Knowing I was no match for him, I put down my sword and begged him, ‘I’m born to suffer. I’ve long been abstinent. How can you have the heart to break my abstinence? What’s more, my teacher has laid down the rules for me, and I vowed never to break them.’ Turning a deaf ear to my plea, the man put his sword to my neck and continued to demand that I submit myself to him. I stretched my neck for the execution, saying, ‘I’d rather die than submit.’

“The man put down his sword and said smilingly, ‘Now I know how resolute you are!’ On taking a closer look, I found him to be none other than Zhao the Daoist nun, in a man’s form to test me. Now convinced of the power of my will, she taught me everything she knew. After I finished my lessons, she left to travel afar, and I came to live on this mountain.”

Cheng Yuanyu was all the more impressed.

As it was approaching the noon hour, Cheng Yuanyu took leave of Lady Eleventh and asked her what had happened to his belongings, his servant, and his horse. She replied, “They’ll all be returned to you as you go along. You have nothing to worry about.” Then she gave him a bag of herbal medicine and said, “Taking one pill will keep you free from illnesses for one year.” She escorted him down the mountain and did not bid him farewell until they were by the high road.

Before he had taken many steps on the road, he saw the bandits again, standing by the road, ready to return his belongings, his servant, and his horse to him. Cheng Yuanyu offered to share half his money with them (MC: Yuanyu is indeed a good man.), but they stoutly declined. He then offered them just one tael of silver as a tip but was also turned down. When asked why, the bandits said, “We dare not go against Lady Wei’s orders even if we’re a thousand li from her. She’ll know if we do. Our lives are more important than your money!” (MC: They are most probably her subordinates.)

With one sigh after another, Cheng Yuanyu repacked his money, and master and servant set out on their journey.

Nothing was heard from Lady Eleventh for more than ten years. One day, when Cheng Yuanyu was back in Sichuan and strolling on a wooden-plank walkway in the mountains, a young woman accompanied by a scholarly-looking man on the same walkway kept casting glances his way. On taking a closer look, Cheng Yuanyu found her face familiar but could not place her. All of a sudden, the woman cried out, “Mr. Cheng! Have you been well since we last met? Do you still remember Blue Mist?”

Only then did Cheng Yuanyu recall that she was Lady Wei the Eleventh’s maidservant. After he exchanged greetings with her and the scholar, Blue Mist said to the scholar, “This is Mr. Cheng, whom my teacher holds in great esteem. I’ve told you about him.” Whereupon the scholar saluted Cheng Yuanyi again.

Cheng Yuanyu asked Blue Mist, “Where’s your venerable teacher? And who might this be?”

“Nothing has changed with my teacher. Several years after you left, sir, I married this scholar at my teacher’s order.”

Cheng asked, “And where’s Floating Cloud?”

“She has also married. My teacher has two new disciples now. Floating Cloud and I go to visit her only during festivals.”

“So where are you headed now?”

Blue Mist replied, “I have some official business to attend to. I have to go now.” With that, she took leave of Cheng Yuanyi and departed in haste.

After a few days, word got around that an official in the Sichuan region had died a violent death. That official was a cunning and crafty man hungry for fame and did little but persecute people and seize their property. When he was chief examiner of the civil service examinations, he again took bribes and passed an unqualified candidate, thus denying a worthy candidate the honor. He was therefore one of those on Lady Wei the Eleventh’s extermination list. Cheng Yuanyu wondered to himself, “This must have been the ‘official business’ that Blue Mist was out to do.” But he didn’t dare reveal the truth to anyone. Thereafter, nothing was ever heard of the women again.

All this happened in the Chenghua reign period [1465–87] of this dynasty [Ming], as recorded by Grand Scribe Hu Rujia of Nanjing in The Biography of Lady Wei the Eleventh. In the words of a poem,

The knights-errant have been around since long ago,

But Lady Wei’s speech set her apart from the others.

With her two pellets, she applied her art.

With her one sword, she pursued selfless goals.

She distinguished the good from the evil;

She rewarded and punished in fairness.

Let us bring her skills into play

And get all reprobates out of the way.