He originally was heading from northwest to southeast, but he wanted to get away from these people as far as possible so turned and headed northwest instead. His heart was in a mess, he loathed the world; he took off his mask and ran madly in the wild hills and mountains. When he was hungry, he plucked some wild fruits and vegetables to ease his hunger. He traveled further and further; within a month, his hair was wild and unkempt, his clothes old and torn, and reached a tall mountain. He didnât know that this was one of the most famous five mountains in the world, Mount Hua. He saw the mountain was dangerous and rugged; he became mad and climbed up the mountain furiously. Though his lightness kung fu was good, Mount Hua is a dangerous place, one could not climb it on a whim. By the time he was halfway up the mountain, the weather suddenly became cold, the ground became hard, and the north wind gradually blew stronger and flakes of snow began falling from the sky. He was angry; he wanted to torture himself and did not try to find a place to avoid the snow. The stronger the wind and snow, the further he traveled. He carried on until it became night, the snow was heavy, the ground was slippery, and it became harder to recognize the paths. If he stepped into an empty space, he would definitely fall down to his death in the deep valley. He didnât care and took his life lightly; he looked up and walked forward.
After a while, he suddenly heard a light âchiâ âchiâ sound, it sounded like some kind of beast was traveling in the snow; he immediately turned around and saw the image of a person flash past, darting into a valley. Yang Guo was startled and quickly went over to take a look in the valley. He saw someone hooking his three fingers into the rock, hanging in midair. Yang Guo saw that the three fingers supported the whole body above the valley; this personâs martial arts were extremely high and had reached an unimaginable level. So he politely said, âOld senior please come up!â
The person laughed, his voice shaking the valley, his fingers pulled up and he leapt up from the side of the mountain. The person suddenly shouted, âYou are with the Five Clowns of the Tibetan Border arenât you? What are you doing sneaking around here in the middle of the night during a snowstorm?â
Yang Guo was scolded for no reason and thought, âWhat am I doing sneaking around here in the middle of the night during a snowstorm?â This disturbed his thoughts and he suddenly let out a cry; remembering how unlucky he was, suffering the abuse of others, and his most respected and loved one Xiao Longnu blamed him for not understanding and had disappeared. They would probably never meet again in this lifetime. As he cried about this, all his lifeâs worries and all the resentment and abuse he had suffered surfaced in his mind.
When that person saw him cry he was shocked; he heard him getting more pitiful as he cried, and was even more surprised. When the person saw that his cries werenât going to end he suddenly laughed, the laughter and crying joined together and shook the snow down from the mountaintops.
When Yang Guo heard the laugh, his crying stopped and he angrily said, âWhat are you laughing at?â
The person laughed and said, âWhat are you crying about?â
Yang Guo was about to reply hatefully when he remembered this personâs martial arts were extraordinary; he calmed down his anger and politely bowed and said, âJunior is Yang Guo, I hereby greet Senior.â
The person held a bamboo rod in his hand, and he lightly pushed him on the arm. Yang Guo did not feel any greet force yet his body couldnât stop from falling backwards. With the force of that push, one would fall down and have to struggle to get up. But he had learned the âToad Stanceâ where oneâs legs are above their head; he flipped over in the air and remained upright.
Neither of them could have guessed what had just happened. With Yang Guoâs present abilities, making him fall in one push wasnât easy, even Li Mochou or Qiu Chuji and the like couldnât do this to him. The other person saw him standing up steadily after flipping over in midair, he widened his eyes and looked at him and asked, âWhy are you crying?â
When Yang Guo examined him, he was a white haired and bearded old man; the clothes on him were old and torn. It appeared that he was a beggar. Although it was dark, the white snow reflected off him, there was a red glow to his face, yet he looked graceful. Yang Guoâs respect for him became evident and he replied, âIâm a person with a life full of despair, there is no point in living, I should just die.â
The old beggar heard that his voice was full of resignation and resentment; the beggar nodded his head and asked, âWhoâs bullying you? Quickly tell Grandpa.â
Yang Guo said, âMy father was killed by someone, but I donât know who. My mother died from illness, there is no one left in the world who loves or cares for me.â
The old beggar gave an âenâ grunt and said, âThat is sad. Who is the Master who taught you kung fu?â
Yang Guo thought, âAuntie Guo technically was my Master but she didnât teach me any martial arts. Mentioning the Quanzhen Taoists fills me with hate. Ouyang Feng is my godfather, not my Master. My kung fu was taught by Gu Gu, but she said she wants to be my wife. If I said she is my Master she will be angry. Wang Chongyang and Lin Chaoying ancestors left their martial arts in the stone rooms, how can I say they are my Master? I have many Masters but I canât mention any of them.â
This question disturbed his feelings again and he let out a cry again, calling out, âI donât have a Master, I donât have a Master!â
The old beggar said, âFine, fine! If you donât want to say, thatâs fine.â
Yang Guo sobbed, âItâs not that I donât want to say, itâs just that I donât have one.â
The old beggar said, âIf you havenât got one, you havenât got one, what need is there for crying? Do you know the Five Clowns of the Tibetan Border?â
Yang Guo said, âI donât know them.â
The old beggar said, âI saw you alone in the dark and thought that you were the friend of the Five Clowns of the Tibetan Border, since you arenât then thatâs good.â
This person was the âNine-Fingered Wondrous Beggarâ, Hong Qigong. After he passed on the position of the Chief of the Beggar Clan to Huang Rong, he traveled alone, savoring the worldâs finest foods. The weather in Guangdong was pleasant and the amount of exquisite foods endless. Afterwards he went to Lingnan and he had all the food he wanted; for the last ten years he had not returned to the central plains.
In the lands of Guangdong, poisonous snakes were used in soups, tough cats were used in stews, fishes were like mice, the prawns were like dragons, fat snails were fried, dragon lice were steamed, the roast piglets had crisp skin and the flesh of simmered fruit was red. Hong Qigong was in heaven, his pleasure boundless. Whenever he saw injustice, he would secretly help; he killed evil doers and punished traitors with his abilities. No one knew where he was or where he went. Sometimes he would listen in on some Beggar Clan members talking; he knew that under the orders of Huang Rong and Lu Youjiao, the Beggar Clan was calm. The internal fight between the âdirtyâ clothed and âcleanâ clothed factions was subsiding; so had the outside force of the Jin and the Iron Palm Clan. He had no worries; everyday he would just open his mouth, chew and swallow.