Chapter Forty: Reunion by the Han River, Part One

Out at sea, a wooden raft drifted on its journey, its twin sails catching the wind as it sped southward across calm waters. Upon the raft stood a man, a woman, and a child.

All three were clad in garments made from animal hides. The man, about thirty years old, possessed a tanned, rugged face that still retained traces of youthful handsomeness. The woman, also in her thirties, was strikingly beautiful; her eyes sparkled with intelligence, revealing her extraordinary wit and charm. The child was robust and lively, wielding a stick with which he playfully struck at fish leaping from the water.

Gazing at the raft’s steady course southward, the woman could not help but remark, “Elder brother, not only is your martial skill profound, but your mastery of weather and geography is equally remarkable. Truly, you are a man of rare talent.”

The child suddenly piped up, “Since the wind blows south for half a year and north for the other, next year we can return to Ice-Fire Island to see our godfather again.”

The man fondly patted the boy’s head. “You’re right, Wuji. When you’re grown, we shall go north together.”

Just then, the woman pointed to the southern horizon and exclaimed, “What is that?”

At the meeting of sea and sky, two faint black dots appeared. The man was startled. “Could it be whales? If they ram the raft, we’d be in trouble.”

The woman scrutinized the distant forms. “Not whales; I see no spouts.”

All three stared intently at the black shapes.

“It’s a ship—a big ship!” the woman cried, thrilled as the shapes grew clearer.

After another hour or so, with the sun slanting over the sea, they could see plainly that there were two large ships. But when the woman caught sight of the sails emblazoned with a fierce black eagle, wings spread wide, her face changed dramatically.

Seeing her distress, the man grasped her hand, concerned. “Susu, what’s wrong?”

The child, too, looked on with worry.

These three were none other than Zhang Cuishan, his wife Yin Susu, and their son Zhang Wuji, returning south from Ice-Fire Island.

Yin Susu had never imagined that even before reaching the mainland, they would encounter the Heavenly Eagle Sect out here on the sea.

Zhang Cuishan also recalled, with a jolt, that the black eagle was the same emblem he had seen on Wang Pan Mountain a decade ago, marking the Heavenly Eagle Sect.

“This is the Heavenly Eagle Sect?” he asked.

Yin Susu sighed. “Yes. I never expected we would run into them so soon.”

“Should we go and greet them—ask about your father?” Zhang Cuishan inquired.

Yin Susu replied, “No, let’s not. Once we return to the mainland, I’ll take you and Wuji to see my father.” Zhang Cuishan agreed, “Very well.”

As the raft drew close to the ships, a sudden clanging rang out from the larger vessel.

Both Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu’s expressions changed. Though they had been away from the martial world for ten years, they recognized the sound of blades clashing instantly.

“Since we’ve encountered them, we should go take a look,” Zhang Cuishan said, adjusting the sails and steering the raft toward the ships.

As they neared, a voice shouted from the Heavenly Eagle Sect’s ship, “Official business here! Outsiders, keep clear!”

Yin Susu called back, “Sun and moon shine, eagle spreads its wings, sacred flame blazes, blessings for all. The hall master of the headquarters is present. Which altar is burning incense?”

She spoke in the sect’s code. Immediately, a man aboard replied respectfully, “Hall Master Li of the Celestial Market Hall, accompanied by Chief Cheng of the Azure Dragon Altar and Chief Feng of the Divine Serpent Altar. Is that Hall Master Yin of the Celestial Micro Hall?”

Yin Susu answered, “Hall Master of the Purple Micro Hall.”

Hearing those words, the ship became instantly chaotic.

Moments later, a dozen voices cried out in unison, “Miss Yin has returned! Miss Yin has returned!”

Though Zhang Cuishan had been married to Yin Susu for ten years, she had never spoken of the Heavenly Eagle Sect, nor had he ever asked. Now, hearing this exchange, he realized she was the Hall Master of the Purple Micro Hall—a position evidently superior to altar chiefs.

He had witnessed the skills of the Black Tortoise and Vermilion Bird altar chiefs on Wang Pan Mountain, both superior in martial arts to Yin Susu. She must have held her post by virtue of being the sect leader’s daughter. This Hall Master Li must be a formidable figure.

An old voice from the opposite ship spoke, “Word has it the sect leader’s daughter, Miss Yin, has returned. Shall we pause the fight for now?”

Another voice, bright and clear, responded, “Agreed! Everyone, cease fighting.” The clash of weapons abruptly stopped as the combatants retreated.

Zhang Cuishan recognized the familiar, resonant voice and called out, “Is that Brother Yu Lianzhou?”

A voice replied, “It’s me, Yu Lianzhou… Ah… You… you…”

Zhang Cuishan answered, “It’s your junior, Zhang Cuishan!”

Overcome with emotion, Zhang Cuishan saw the raft still several yards away from the ships. He picked up a sturdy plank, hurled it across, then leaped onto it, borrowing its support to land on the ship’s prow.

Yu Lianzhou rushed forward. The brothers, separated for ten years, uncertain of each other’s fate, now reunited in joy. They clasped hands, one calling, “Second Brother!” the other, “Fifth Brother!” Tears welled in their eyes, rendering them speechless.

Meanwhile, Yin Susu’s reception by the Heavenly Eagle Sect was equally grand. Eight conch shells sounded, Hall Master Li stood at the fore, with Chiefs Feng and Cheng behind, followed by a hundred sect members in welcome.

Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu soon learned the cause of the conflict: the incident at Wang Pan Mountain years ago had bred enmity among the various sects. Today, the Wudang, Kongtong, Emei, and Kunlun Sects had joined forces to challenge the Heavenly Eagle Sect.

Kunlun’s representatives were a thirty-year-old man named Xihua Zi and his junior sister, Wei Si-niang. Xihua Zi, despite his age, lacked any decorum. Fixing Zhang Cuishan with an impolite glare, he demanded, “Hero Zhang Five, where is that villain Xie Xun? Surely you know!”

Zhang Cuishan, unwilling to engage with such rudeness, refrained from responding. The dispute ended in discord, with only an agreement to meet in three months at Yellow Crane Tower in Wuchang to discuss matters.

As they departed the Heavenly Eagle Sect’s ship, Xihua Zi continued his disrespect, even speaking irreverently of Wudang’s founder, Zhang Sanfeng.

Yu Lianzhou’s face darkened but he held his temper. He remarked calmly, “Your disrespect toward me is of little consequence, but insulting our master is another matter. If word of today’s events spreads, you might consider how you will explain yourself to our Eighth Brother.”

“Master Wu Hen!” Xihua Zi blurted, his face pale as death, rendered speechless, desperate to escape to the ships of the Kongtong and Emei Sects.

In his panic, he misstepped and fell into the sea, only to be rescued before he could become fish food.

With the Kongtong, Kunlun, and Emei Sect members gone, only Yu Lianzhou, Zhang Cuishan’s family, and the Heavenly Eagle Sect remained aboard.

Watching the allied ships depart, Zhang Cuishan breathed deeply. The situation had been the most difficult he’d ever faced. To speak truth would betray his sworn bonds; to remain silent would imperil Wudang. He was caught between two agonies.

Fortunately, the three-month respite would allow him to return to the mountain and consult his brothers, perhaps discovering a solution that satisfied all.

Suddenly, he recalled Yu Lianzhou mentioning an Eighth Brother. There were only seven in their brotherhood—when had an eighth joined?

Puzzled, Zhang Cuishan turned and asked, “Second Brother, who is this Eighth Brother you spoke of?”

Yin Susu, too, was curious. Who was this Eighth Brother that Yu Lianzhou, without even mentioning his name, could so terrify Xihua Zi?

Yu Lianzhou relaxed and smiled. “Fifth Brother, of course you haven’t met him. Ten years ago, when you vanished, all of us searched the mountain for you, Master included.”

Recalling their past separation, he sighed before continuing, “We searched all of Central Plains for months, but found no trace of you.”

“Second Brother, it was my fault, causing Master and you all such hardship,” Zhang Cuishan choked, remembering how his master and brothers had searched for him tirelessly, enduring untold suffering. Tears filled his eyes.

“You can’t blame yourself. It was beyond your control, and now you’re back. In days to come, we can all train, study, and roam the world together—it will be wonderful,” Yu Lianzhou laughed.

“Exactly, Fifth Brother. You should be happy,” Yin Susu comforted him.

She then turned to Yu Lianzhou. “By the way, Second Brother, you still haven’t told us about Eighth Brother.”

Yu Lianzhou slapped his forehead. “How silly of me! Seeing Fifth Brother again, I’m so delighted I lost my wits.”

He continued, “Three months later, when we still had no news of you, we gradually returned to the mountain. After all, only Third Brother was left there, and given his condition, we were worried.”

“Second Brother—how is Third Brother?” Zhang Cuishan asked tremulously, dreading the answer. Yin Susu’s expression was strange—expectant, yet guilty.

In the cabin, only four people were present: Yu Lianzhou reminiscing, Zhang Cuishan anxious, Zhang Wuji listening curiously—with none noticing Yin Susu’s odd look.

“Third Brother is well. Though his body is broken, he survived. Before I left the mountain, Eighth Brother sent word: he had found a way to heal Third Brother. After Master’s hundredth birthday, Third Brother should be able to stand again.”

Hearing Yu Lianzhou’s firm words, Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu grew curious. Who was this Eighth Brother whom Yu Lianzhou trusted so deeply?

They both knew the severity of Yu Daiyan’s injuries—bones shattered, even Master Zhang Sanfeng was helpless. Could this Eighth Brother surpass their master in skill?