It was a hot summer's day in June, l754, the

eighteenth year of the reign of Emperor Qian Long. In

the inner courtyard of the military commander's Yamen

in Fufeng in Shaanxi province, a fourteen-year-old

girl skipped towards her teacher's study, eager for a

history lesson. All was peaceful: not even a thread of

cool wind stirred. The girl hesitated, afraid that her

teacher had not yet woken from his afternoon nap.

Quietly, she circled round to the window, pierced a

hole in its paper covering with one of her golden hair

clips, and peeped inside.

She saw her teacher sitting cross-legged on a chair,

smiling. His right hand waved slightly in the air, and

there was a faint clicking sound. Glancing over to

where the sound came from, she noticed several dozen

flies on a wooden partition opposite, all as still as

could be. Puzzled, she looked more closely and noticed

a golden needle as slender as a hair protruding from

the back of each fly. The needles were so small that

she was only able to see them because they reflected

the rays of the late afternoon sun slanting in through

the windows.

Flies were still buzzing to and fro around the room.

The teacher waved his hand again, there was a small

noise, and another fly was pinned to the partition.

Absolutely fascinated, she ran to the door and burst

in, shouting: "Teacher! Show me how to do that."

The girl was Li Yuanzhi, the only child of the local

military commander, Li Keshou. Her fresh, beautiful

face was flushed with excitement.

"Hmm," said her teacher, a scholar in his mid-fifties

named Lu. "Why aren't you playing with your friends?

You want to hear some more stories, do you?"

Moving a chair over to the partition, she jumped up to

look, then pulled the needles out of the flies one by

one, wiped them clean on a piece of paper and handed

them back to him. "That was a brilliant piece of kung

fu, teacher," she said. "You have to show me how to do

it."

Lu smiled. "If you want to learn kung fu, there's

no-one better at it within a hundred miles of here

than your own father," he said.

"My father knows how to shoot an eagle with an arrow,

but he can't kill a fly with a needle. If you don't

believe me, I'll go and ask him."

Lu thought for a moment, and then nodded. "All right,

come tomorrow morning and I'll teach you. Now go off

and play. And you're not allowed to tell anyone about

me killing the flies. If anyone finds out, I won't

teach you."

Yuanzhi was overjoyed. She knelt before him and

kowtowed eight times. Lu accepted the gesture with a

smile. "You pick things up very quickly. It is fitting

that I should teach you this kind of kung fu. However

..." He stopped, deep in thought.

"Teacher," said Yuanzhi hurriedly. "I will do anything

you say."

"To be honest, I don't agree with much of what your

father does," he said. "When you're older, I hope you

will be able to distinguish between right and wrong,

good and evil. If you accept me as your teacher, you

must also accept the strict rules of the Wudang

Martial Arts Order to which I belong. Do you think you

can?"

"I would not dare defy your orders," she said.

"If you ever use the skills I teach you to do evil, I

will take your life as easily as turning my hand

over."

His face and voice became stern and hard, and for a

moment Yuanzhi was frightened. But then she smiled.

"I'll be good," she said. "Anyway, how could you bear

to kill me?"



** 2 **

The Wudang kung fu sect to which Lu belonged, one of

the most famous, stressed the use of Internal Force

Kung Fu. In his prime, Lu had roamed China fighting

for justice, and had become a famous member of the

Dragon Slayer's Society, a secret anti-Manchu

organisation whose power and influence had been

widespread during the reign of Yong Zheng, the former

Emperor. But the society had been rigorously

suppressed, and by the seventh or eighth year of

Emperor Qian Long's reign, it had disintegrated. Lu

fled to the border areas of China. The Manchu court

dispatched men to look for him, but he was

quick-witted and a good fighter and managed to avoid

capture. Working on the principle that 'small crooks

hide in the wilderness, middling crooks in the city

and big crooks in officialdom', Lu eventually made his

way to Commander Li's household and set himself up as

a teacher.

From that day, Lu began teaching Yuanzhi the basic

techniques of the Wudang school's kung fu style, known

as Limitless Occult Kung Fu. He taught her control of

her emotions and thoughts, the ten Tapestries and the

thirty-two Long-arm Blows. He trained her to use her

eyes and ears, and showed her the use of hand darts

and other hidden projectiles.

More than two years passed. Yuanzhi, hard-working and

clever, made fast progress. Her father, Commander Li,

was transferred toGansu province as military commander

at Anxi, one of the major towns in the northwest

border regions, bordering on the great desert of

central Asia. His family, including Lu, went with him.

Another two years passed as Lu taught Yuanzhi the Soft

Cloud sword technique and the secret of the Golden

Needles. She did as her teacher had ordered, and did

not tell a soul that she was learning kung fu. Every

day she practised by herself in the rear flower

garden. When the young mistress was practising her

kung fu, the maids did not understand what they saw,

and the menservants did not dare to watch too closely.

Commander Li was a capable man, and he advanced

steadily through the ranks of officialdom. In 1759,

the twenty-third year of the Emperor Qian Long's

reign, he distinguished himself in the battle of Ili,

in which the largest of the tribes in the Muslim areas

was defeated, and received an Imperial decree

promoting him to the post of Commander-in-Chief of

Zhejiang Province in the southeast.

Yuanzhi had been born and raised in the border areas

of the northwest, and the prospect of travelling to

new and beautiful lands filled her with excitement.

She pressed her teacher to come as well, and Lu, who

had been away from the central areas for a long time,

agreed with pleasure.

Li Keshou went ahead with a small escort to take up

his post and left his chief-of-staff and 20 soldiers

in charge of his family who were to follow him. The

officer's name was Deng, a vigorous and energetic man

in his forties who sported a small moustache.

The entourage consisted of more than a dozen mules and

a few horses. Madame Li sat in a mule-drawn carriage,

but Yuanzhi couldn't bear to be cooped up and insisted

on riding. Since itwould have been improper for the

daughter of a high official to be seen riding in

public, she changed into boy's clothes which made her

look so extraordinarily handsome that she refused to

change back into her normal attire no matter what

anyone said. All Madame Li could do was sigh and let

her daughter do as she pleased.

It was a deep autumn day. Lu rode far behind the group

looking at the passing scenery as the colours of late

afternoon merged into evening. But there was little to

see around the ancient road except yellow sand,

withered grasses and the occasional crow flying

homewards. A breeze sprang up from the west and Lu

began to recite:

"His body and name scarred by a hundred battles

The general approaches a bridge across a river

And turns to look back 10,000 miles

At the dead men left behind.

Cold are the waters of the River Yi

And the whistling west wind,

Full of cloaks and crowns like snow.

The hero's song of lament has not yet ended....."

"The poet Xin Jiaxuan could have been writing of my

own feelings," he thought. "He was much like me when

he wrote it, watching China fall to the barbarian

tribes, with no way of knowing when the old days would

return. No wonder he sang such a sad song."

The entourage crossed the summit of a hill. Looking at

the darkening sky, the mulemen said that another three

miles would bring them to Twin Pagodas, a large town,

where they planned to spend the night.

Just then, Lu heard the sound of galloping hooves and

saw far in front two magnificent chestnut horses

racing towards them through a cloud of dust. The two

riders flashed by, one on either side of the line of

mules, and were gone. Lu slapped his horseand caught

up with Yuanzhi.

"Did you get a good look at those two?" he asked in a

low voice.

"Were they bandits?" she replied excitedly. She would

have liked nothing better than for them to be outlaws

bent on robbery, giving her a chance to display the

skills she had worked so hard to attain over the past

five years.

"It's hard to say," said Lu. "But judging by their

ability in the martial arts, they wouldn't be ordinary

highwaymen."

"Are they kung fu masters?"

"From the way they ride their horses, I'd say it's

unlikely they are novices."

As the entourage neared the town, two more horsemen

galloped past.

"Mm, this is very strange," mused Lu. The country was

desolate and the evening mist was thickening. He

wondered why anyone would set out on a journey at this

time of day.

Not long after, the muletrain entered the town.

Officer Deng led them to a large inn and Yuanzhi and

her mother were shown to one of the best rooms. Lu was

given a smaller room, and after he had eaten dinner, a

servant lit the lantern. All was quiet, and he was

about to go to sleep when a dog barked. From far away

he heard the faint sound of galloping horses

approaching and he thought again about the four riders

they had passed on the road.

The clip-clop of horses' hooves came closer and

stopped right in front of the inn. There was a knock

on the front door and Lu heard a servant open it and

say: "You've been riding hard. There's food and drink

prepared for you."

"Go and feed the horses quickly," said a rough voice.

"We must start out again as soon as we've finished

eating."

Lu considered the situation. Groups of men hurrying

northwest, and judging by the way they rode, all of

them experts in the martial arts. In all his years in

the border areas, he had never seen the like of it. He

slipped quietly out of his room, crossed the courtyard

and went round to the back of the inn.

"All right, you say the Young Helmsman is very young,"

he heard the rough-voiced man say. "Do you think he

will be able to control all the brothers?"

Lu followed the voice and stationed himself underneath

the window.

"He'll have to," he heard the other say. "It was the

old master's wish whether the Young Helmsman likes it

or not."

The man had a deep, sonorous voice, and Lu could tell

his Internal Strength was profound. Not daring to make

a hole in the window paper to peep through, he

continued to listen from where he was, breathing as

lightly as he could.

"Of course," the rough-throated one replied. "But we

don't know if the Young Helmsman will be willing to do

it."

"You don't have to worry about that," said the other.

"He'll follow the old master's wishes."

He said the word 'follow' with a peculiar southern

Chinese accent, and Lu's heart jumped. "Where have I

heard that voice before?" he thought. He sifted

through his mind, and finally remembered that it

belonged to his old friend Zhao Banshan, whom he had

known 20 years before in the Dragon Slayers' Society.

Zhao was about 10 years younger than he, but the two

had often trained together, and had a great respect

for each other. Lu had heard no news of him since the

Dragon Slayers' Society had broken up and he was

delighted at chancing upon an old friend in such an

unlikely place. As he was about to call out to Zhao,

the light in the room was suddenly doused and a dart

shot out of the window.

But it was not aimed at Lu. A figure shifted in the

shadows nearby and caught the dart, then stood up,

about to challenge the dart thrower. Lu leapt over and

whispered fiercely: "Don't make a sound! Come with

me." It was Yuanzhi.

No one chased them. Lu pulled Yuanzhi into his room,

and under the light saw an expression of such

eagerness on her face that he was both angry and

amused.

"Yuanzhi, do you know what sort of men they are? What

were you doing trying to pick a fight with them?" he

asked sternly.

"What were they doing shooting a dart at me?" she

replied defiantly.

"If they aren't outlaws, then they are secret society

men," he said. "One of them I know, and his kung fu

would not be weaker than mine. Travelling through the

night as they are, they must be on very urgent

business. That dart was not meant to injure you, it

was just telling you not to be nosy. If he had really

wanted to hit you, I doubt if you would have been able

to catch it. Now go and sleep."

They heard a door open and the sound of horses' hooves

as the two men galloped away.

The next morning, the muletrain started out again, and

travelled ten miles in just over two hours.

"Look, teacher," said Yuanzhi. "There's someone

coming."

Two chestnut horses galloped towards them, and because

of theprevious night's incident, they paid particular

attention to the riders. The horses, fine and

spirited, were identical. Even stranger, the two

riders were also identical. Both were aged about 40,

tall and thin with faces as yellow as wax, sunken eyes

and long slanting eyebrows: the effect was

frightening.

As they passed by, the two men glanced at Yuanzhi with

their strange eyes. She reined in her horse and stared

back belligerently, but they took no notice and raced

on westwards.

"Where did that pair of ghosts come from, I wonder,"

she said.

Lu glanced back at the receding figures. "Aha, it must

be them," he cried.

"You recognise them?" she asked excitedly.

"They must be the Twin Knights of Sichuan. Their

surname is Chang, but everyone calls them Black Death

and White Death."

Yuanzhi laughed. "They've got good nicknames. They

look like a couple of skeletons."

"Little girls shouldn't make jokes about other

people," said Lu. "They may be ugly but they are

skilled fighters. I've never met them, but from what

I've heard, they travel the country fighting evil and

doing justice. They are widely known as outlaws, but

they steal only from the rich and help the poor. They

have made a great name for themselves."

"But if they are identical, why are they called Black

and White?"

"From what I've been told, the only difference between

them is that one has a black mole in the corner of his

eye, and the other doesn't. There's probably no one

better at Black Sand Palm Kung Fu than those two."
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