Chapter 25: Conning Darba
Dasheng Pass lies at the border of Henan and Hubei; Gu Qing, Xiaolongnu, and Yang Guo set out from Shaanxi, and the journey to Dasheng Pass would take some time, but along the way, all three were unhurried, touring mountains and enjoying waters, and whenever their money ran out, Gu Qing would visit the Beggar’s Sect for funds—after naming Shi Hao, the Beggar’s Sect members proved exceedingly generous.
Of course, along the way, Gu Qing also performed acts of justice and accumulated further merit.
“Hard to believe.”
Yang Guo, riding his horse, remarked: “The money we’ve spent on fine food and drink came straight from beggars’ hands…”
Yang Guo knew full well this was because Gu Qing had done the Beggar’s Sect a great favor, yet every time he feasted, seeing the sect’s brothers still begging, he felt a pang of guilt.
“You just eat and drink—you don’t know what risks I’ve taken.”
As Gu Qing spoke, his gaze accidentally fell upon Xiaolongnu.
Beneath the sunlight, Xiaolongnu’s eyes sparkled, her cheeks glowing, radiating boundless brightness.
Xiaolongnu sensed Gu Qing’s gaze and turned her face away; Gu Qing quickly looked elsewhere.
“Risks? What risks do you have?”
Yang Guo asked with a cold laugh.
The Beggar’s Sect was the largest sect in the world, and the Quanzhen Sect the greatest; Yang Guo could not imagine any danger facing Gu Qing under such protection.
“Pfft…”
Gu Qing was about to speak when he spotted a Beggar’s Sect disciple limping toward them, covered in sword wounds; he immediately dismounted, sealed acupoints to stop the bleeding, and applied medicine to treat the wounds.
“Mongols…”
The disciple, severely wounded, pointed weakly toward a distant spot before collapsing into unconsciousness.
“We turn back now.”
With a wounded Beggar’s Sect member nearby, Gu Qing could not abandon him; he immediately turned direction with Xiaolongnu and Yang Guo, heading toward the nearest ruined temple where other disciples had gathered.
After handing the beggar over to his comrades, Gu Qing learned the general situation from his words.
“You mean, Mongol masters have suddenly appeared along this route?”
Gu Qing asked in surprise.
“Correct.”
The Beggar’s Sect disciple said: “I was trying to gather intelligence when a Mongol officer slashed at me with a sword. Shi Daxia, they seem to know your route and are here specifically to kill you.”
Gu Qing nodded, turning to Yang Guo: “You asked about risks? Here they are.”
The Beggar’s Sect was leaky; once Gu Qing tied himself to it using Shi Hao’s name, the Mongols took notice—and the Beggar’s Sect paid the price.
Not long after they halted in the ruined temple, Liu Er arrived with several Beggar’s Sect masters; upon seeing Gu Qing, he bowed first, then relayed intelligence.
“Ahead lies Abao Town, where thirty Mongol officers are stationed—all skilled warriors; the strongest among them is a foreign monk named Darba, immensely strong.”
Liu Er described everything in Abao Town: “Without Darba, we could eliminate all the Mongol officers in Abao Town.”
Darba, disciple of the Golden Wheel Lama, elder brother of Hudu…
If Darba is nearby, the Golden Wheel Lama cannot be far.
At this stage, Darba’s martial skill far surpasses Yang Guo’s; in the novel’s Hero Gathering, Yang Guo outwitted him precisely because Darba was slow-witted, allowing Yang Guo to trick him into submission.
As Gu Qing thought of Darba—he too possessed the Dragon and Elephant General Buddha Power, and was simple-minded; if Gu Qing wanted the Dragon and Elephant General Buddha Power, he’d likely have to obtain it from Darba… If he missed this chance and Darba reunited with the Golden Wheel Lama, acquiring the technique would be far harder.
Thinking of the Dragon and Elephant General Buddha Power, Gu Qing scanned the ruined temple and saw the central statue of the Buddha, flanked by the Four Heavenly Kings; after glancing around, his gaze settled on the King of Growth, who held a wooden sword in his hand.
“Yang Guo.”
Gu Qing pulled Yang Guo over and asked: “Have you ever played a deity?”
“Huh?”
Yang Guo was taken aback.
Abao Town.
The town stretched east-west along the road; at its western end, numerous Mongol officers gathered, with a foreign monk seated at the center—thin-faced, gaunt-bodied, a vajra club beside him. Darba sat silently chanting sutras when he noticed a man approaching the town, his entire body purplish-blue, clad in tattered armor, resembling a mountain demon.
This appearance startled the Mongol officers and made Darba rise, gripping his vajra club in readiness.
The purplish-blue man dragged his leg into the midst of the Mongol officers, sat down on the ground, pointed to his leg, and murmured: “Amitabha.”
Darba, a Vajrayana practitioner, heard the Buddhist chant and felt an instant kinship; he stepped forward, approached the purplish-blue man, noticed his twisted foot, and boldly reached out to twist his leg.
A sharp crack echoed—the bones realigned.
At that moment, Yang Guo’s heart was drenched in sweat; seeing the monk meant no harm, he relaxed, clasped his hands, chanted a Buddhist phrase, and handed Darba the wooden sword hanging at his waist.
Darba took the wooden sword, utterly bewildered; he watched the purplish-blue man rise, chant sutras, and walk westward—his steps initially slow, pausing after two or three, glancing at Darba, then taking two more steps, pausing again, glancing once more, before his pace gradually quickened.
“Does that man have martial skill?”
One Mongol officer finally realized and asked.
“Wait here.”
Darba glanced at the wooden sword in his hand, sensing that the purplish-blue man intended to lead him somewhere; undaunted, he seized his vajra club and sprinted toward Yang Guo’s location. As the purplish-blue figure sped up, Darba accelerated as well, following the shadow all the way to a temple.
“Huh…”
Darba dashed into the temple gate, but just before entering, he heard a shout—Gu Qing leapt out from within, crying: “So it’s you who damaged the statue of the King of Growth and stole his treasure sword!”
The statue of the King of Growth?
A treasure sword?
Darba was stunned; Gu Qing swung at him with a club, striking his body—but Darba felt no pain or injury. He let Gu Qing rage on; after several blows, Gu Qing seemed to realize this man was no easy target and silently lowered his club, slipping away into the temple.
“Who was the man who just went in?”
Darba demanded.
Darba did not speak Chinese; his words were all Tibetan.
“I’ve been right here at the gate—I saw no one enter…” Gu Qing stammered, speaking Tibetan.
Merit could accomplish many things—learning Tibetan was no challenge.
Good deeds can accomplish many things; learning Tibetan is no problem.
Darba stepped past Gu Qing and entered the temple; he saw the temple was dilapidated, and among the Four Heavenly Kings’ statues, the King of Growth’s leg was missing a chunk—matching the injury of the man who had realigned his bones. Seeing the King of Growth’s purplish-blue skin and the missing wooden sword, Darba gasped, and his vajra club clattered to the ground.
Darba stepped past Gu Qing and entered the temple, seeing that it was already dilapidated; among the four heavenly kings inside the hall, the statue of the Growth Heavenly King was missing a chunk from its leg—exactly matching the injury of the man who had set his bone. Seeing the Growth Heavenly King’s bluish-purple skin and the missing wooden sword in its hand, Darba cried out in shock, and his vajra club fell to the ground.
I made a slight revision: I should have kept Xiaolongnu, and removed the reason for her leaving the mountain. I knew Darba speaks Tibetan—I considered omitting it to heighten drama, but adding a patch works just as well.
Made a small revision: I did indeed remove Xiaolongnu’s reason for descending the mountain; I knew Darba spoke Tibetan, and when writing, I considered omitting it to heighten the drama, but adding a patch makes no difference.
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