Chapter 35: At the Drunken Immortal Pavilion

Qiu Zhiqing had followed the Seven Masters of Quanzhen to Peach Blossom Island, but before he could even tour this popular tourist attraction, he was hurried back onto a boat with them. Along the way, he had subsisted on little more than some fruit and melon seeds.

Inside the cabin, the Seven Masters sat in a circle, sighing and lamenting. Suddenly, Qiu Chuji asked, "Where is Zhiqing?" Ma Yu pointed toward the bow of the boat, where Qiu Zhiqing stood with his back to them, sitting cross-legged and gazing out at the sea.

Qiu Chuji had intended to approach him with questions, but upon drawing closer, he saw the fellow was busy cracking melon seeds and, quite immorally, tossing the shells into the ocean.

To dare litter in my presence—this was truly intolerable! With a swift motion, Qiu Chuji slapped the back of Qiu Zhiqing’s head.

As it happened, Qiu Zhiqing had seen his masters sighing in the cabin and decided to go to the bow for some fresh air. Having brought some seeds from the island, he naturally started snacking while enjoying the view. Being in the presence of his masters, he had let his guard down. Just as his thoughts were drifting, he felt a sudden rush of wind behind him. He instinctively ducked, turned, and threw out a palm—only to end up slapping his own forehead!

Seeing his sneak attack miss and observing the fluid grace with which Qiu Zhiqing dodged, countered, and then checked his own move, Qiu Chuji’s anger dissipated by a third. Still, a lesson was a lesson.

"You brat! Your grand-uncle has met with disaster, yet you don't even think of revenge; you're only interested in seeds? How preposterous!" Qiu Zhiqing felt helpless. He couldn't exactly tell Qiu Chuji that Zhou Botong was not only alive but incredibly powerful.

He could only sigh and say, "Master-Uncle, Grand-Uncle Zhou has been missing for so many years; how could he be killed the moment he reappears? I still feel something is off. We shouldn't just take Qiu Qianren's word for it, should we?"

At this moment, Ma Yu stepped out of the cabin, displeased. "Zhiqing, stop talking nonsense! Leader Qiu is a renowned expert of the world; why would he speak falsely?"

Qiu Zhiqing struggled to understand their logic. Since when did being a high-level martial artist equate to being honest or incapable of deceit?

He spread his hands in frustration. "Master, isn't the 'Western Venom' Ouyang Feng also a world-renowned expert? One of the Five Greats, no less? Yet, he still launches sneak attacks from behind and twists the truth with every word. When did one's martial prowess become synonymous with one's moral character?"

"This..." Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji, and the other five masters who had followed were left staring at each other in silence.

The logic held true, yet their years of experience in the pugilistic world told them that figures of such great fame would not lie so easily. It was a difficult concept for them to accept.

Ultimately, Qiu Chuji spoke up again, grumbling, "Hmph! Is that your excuse for not caring about your grand-uncle and sneaking seeds alone at the bow?"

Qiu Zhiqing offered a sheepish smile. He couldn't answer that. Was he supposed to admit that he had never met Zhou Botong, felt no attachment, and was quite certain the man wasn't dead, hence his peace of mind? He suspected that if he said that, he would be cast out as a wild Taoist, or at best, sentenced to spend years chatting with the stone walls on the back mountain.

Seeing Qiu Zhiqing remain silent, the others sat down to watch the sea. Qiu Zhiqing considered sharing his seeds but feared another reprimand, so he decided against it.

***

They returned to the Xuanmiao Temple in Jiaxing at the start of the Hai hour. Yin Zhiping, that blind fool, hadn't even prepared a midnight snack for them.

Having not eaten all day, even the deep internal energy of the Seven Masters couldn't stave off the hunger. Ma Yu noted that Qiu Zhiqing was knowledgeable about animals and ordered him and Yin Zhiping to prepare some food.

Soon, the fourteenth day of the eighth month arrived. The Seven Masters, accompanied by their juniors Qiu Zhiqing and Yin Zhiping, marched as a group of nine to the appointed location: the Zui Xian Restaurant in Jiaxing.

In truth, Qiu Zhiqing didn't want to come. Perhaps the longer he cultivated the Tao, the more indifferent he became; he truly had little interest in all this fighting and killing. But in the pugilistic world, one is rarely the master of one's own fate. Life is rarely perfect, and there are always reasons—this way or that—that force you to walk paths you don't wish to walk and do things you don't wish to do.

Along the way, perhaps feeling a sudden burst of youthful vigor, Qiu Chuji declared he needed to find a "tripod" to recapture the feeling of the past, telling the others to proceed without him.

They waited in the Zui Xian Restaurant for less than forty-five minutes before Qiu Chuji appeared. He wore his standard Taoist robes and topknot, a long sword on his back, and a horsetail whisk in his right hand—nothing out of the ordinary.

What left Qiu Zhiqing stunned was that in his left hand, Qiu Chuji carried a large, three-legged, two-eared bronze tripod he had apparently looted from some temple. If you asked how he knew it was a temple, who would be bored enough to carve the character for "Buddha" onto a tripod in a Taoist temple? Was this what Qiu Chuji called "finding the feeling"? It was a strange bit of knowledge to acquire—truly, one is never too old to learn.

The old manager of the Zui Xian Restaurant was just as shocked. The moment he saw Qiu Chuji’s getup, memories long buried in his heart were awakened.

"Daoist master, why is it you again? I beg of you, can you go fight somewhere else? I am old now; I cannot handle this excitement! Eighteen years ago, you were here, holding that same tripod, and you smashed my restaurant to pieces. The losses were heavy! Please, have mercy, and go fight elsewhere..."

His words were enough to make a listener weep. It sounded like the mournful cry of a cuckoo or the wail of an ape, each word an indictment of Qiu Chuji’s past crimes.

Qiu Chuji felt embarrassed. He had only wanted to find the feeling of his younger days, not realizing he would bring back the old manager's traumatic memories as well.

Unable to hide his blush, he forced himself to remain composed. "Do not worry, old manager. I am here to fulfill an appointment, not to fight!"

After a moment, fearing he might sound like he was lying, he added, "Even if we do fight, we will go outside. We won't cause any damage to your restaurant!"

The old manager thought to himself, *Do you think I believe your nonsense?* But aloud, he murmured, "As long as you don't break anything, that's fine." He immediately turned and ordered the waiter to collect the bill from every table. *A wise man, that manager,* Qiu Zhiqing thought.

Indeed, shortly after the waiter finished collecting the money, a man ran upstairs. He wore coarse hemp clothes and looked honest and sturdy, but his face was twisted with inexplicable resentment.

"Daoist Qiu," he shouted, "I fear my seven masters will not be able to make it to the appointment."

Qiu Chuji was confused, but seeing the man’s grief, he asked in a deep voice, "What has happened? Jing'er, speak quickly!" Only then did Qiu Zhiqing realize this was the protagonist, Guo Jing. At first glance, he seemed entirely unremarkable. Upon closer inspection, he was still entirely unremarkable.

*He’s about the same as me,* Qiu Zhiqing mused. *How did he manage to become a great hero?*

But then he remembered how Guo Jing would dedicate his entire life to the defense of Xiangyang, and he felt a pang of shame. He was just a small, insignificant Quanzhen disciple; why compare himself to such a man?

"All five of my masters have been killed by Huang Yaoshi. Now, only my first master remains..."

As expected, the old manager knew Qiu Chuji well. Fury surged in the Daoist, and with a single palm, he shattered the bronze tripod into two halves. The fragments flew outward, knocking the restaurant's sign right off the wall!

Qiu Zhiqing was dumbfounded. Had the Seven Freaks of the South met their end so quickly? Didn't they live until the time of the *Return of the Condor Heroes*? Didn't they bully young Yang Guo? Ah, he realized his mistake: it was Ke Zhen'e who lived that long, not the Seven Freaks.

The other masters were equally stunned. When they had gone to Peach Blossom Island, hadn't the Seven Freaks gone to propose marriage? How were they suddenly killed by Huang Yaoshi? Even if he refused to give his daughter away, was there any need to kill the suitors?

Just as they were puzzled, Huang Yaoshi appeared on the second floor. The moment Guo Jing saw him, he lost all control, launching a strike of "Subduing the Dragon" directly at the master.

Huang Yaoshi struck out with one palm, knocking Guo Jing back. "You brat, have you lost your mind?" Guo Jing was defeated and had no time to answer; he crashed through the floorboards and fell to the first floor.

Qiu Chuji drew his sword, ready to charge, but remembering his promise to the manager, he decided that a man must keep his word. "A battle outside!" he declared, leaping down, followed closely by the other six Quanzhen masters.

Huang Yaoshi was, of course, fearless. His future son-in-law had ambushed him, and now these "old杂毛" (old rascals) were tweaking his whiskers. Did they think one of the Five Greats was so easily bullied? Even a clay figure has a temper!

Downstairs, Guo Jing was being held back by the manager, who begged them to move outside. Guo Jing, in a fit of rage, pushed him aside and flew back up through the hole he had just made.

Upstairs, only one table of guests remained—Yin Zhiping and Qiu Zhiqing. Seeing Guo Jing return, Qiu Zhiqing knew what he was there for and kindly pointed toward the window.