So speaking, he took off his outer robe again, laid his cap on the table and stretched himself out on the couch. Ma Joong pushed the tea-table nearer so that the judge could easily reach it, then took his leave.
Ma Joong went straight to the large gambling hall. He thought that, since it was already late in the afternoon, the Crab and the Shrimp would have come back from their day-sleep at home. He found them indeed upstairs, watching the gaming tables with solemn faces.
He told them what he wanted, adding: 'Perhaps one of you could take me there?'
'We'll go together,' the Crab said: 'Me and the Shrimp are a team, you see.'
'We just came from there,' the Shrimp remarked, 'but a little exercise'll do us good, won't it, Crab? And my son'll be back from the river, maybe. I shall speak to the superintendent about our replacements.'
The small hunchback went downstairs and the Crab took Ma Joong to the balcony. When they had drunk several cups there, the Shrimp came back and said he had arranged that two of their colleagues would replace them for an hour or so.
The three men made their way through the busy streets, keeping to a westerly direction. Soon they were walking through the quiet alleys of the quarter of the street-vendors and coolies. When they came out on a piece of waste land, covered by thick undergrowth, Ma Joong remarked dubiously:
'You didn't choose a very cheerful neighbourhood to live!'
The Crab pointed at the cluster of tall trees over on the other side.
'Beyond those,' he said, 'you'll find it quite pleasant. Miss Ling lives there in her small shed, under a large yew-tree. And our house is farther on, among the willows on the waterside. This waste land may not be cheerful, but it separates us from the noisy streets.'
'At home, we like it quiet,' the Shrimp added.
The Crab, who was walking ahead, entered the narrow path leading through the trees. Suddenly there were the sounds of breaking branches. Two men leaped from the undergrowth. One grabbed the Crab's arms, the other gave him a fearful blow with a knobstick in his heart region. He wanted to raise his stick to brain the Crab, but Ma Joong sprang forward and placed a vicious fistblow on his jaw. As the ruffian slid to the ground, together with the groaning Crab, Ma Joong turned to the second rogue, but he had drawn a long sword. Ma Joong stepped back, just in time to avoid the thrust aimed at his breast. At that moment four other ruffians appeared; three had swords ready in their hands, the fourth raised the short spear he carried and shouted:
'Surround them and cut'm down! '
It flashed through Ma Joong's mind that it wasn't a very nice situation. His best chance was to try and wrench the spear from that tall scoundrel. But he must first get the small hunchback out of this, for he was not too sure that, even with the spear, he would be able to hold out for long against four swordsmen. He placed an accurate kick on the shaft of the spear aimed at him, but the tall ruffian held on to it. Ma Joong barked over his shoulder at the Shrimp:
'Run for help!'
'Get out of my way!' the hunchback hissed behind him. The small fellow brushed by Ma Joong's legs and went straight at the rogue with the spear. He poised his spear at the hunchback with an evil grin. Ma Joong wanted to spring forward to drag the Shrimp back, but the swordsmen closed in on him, leaving the hunchback to their leader. Just as Ma Joong dodged a swordblow at his head he saw that the Shrimp's hands had shot out, each swung an egg-sized iron ball attached to a thin chain. The spear wielder was falling back, trying frantically to ward off with his weapon the iron balls that came whirling towards him. Ma Joong's attackers now turned round to help their leader. But the Shrimp seemed to have his eyes everywhere at the same time, he swung round and let one of the iron balls bash in the skull of the nearest swordsman. He turned again, now the other ball crushed the shoulder of the leader. The others tried to stab the hunchback, but he gave them no chance. He was dancing around with incredible speed, his small feet seemed hardly to touch the ground, his grey hair fluttering in the breeze. And all around him were the whirling iron balls, a deadly, impenetrable curtain.
Ma Joong stepped back and watched breathlessly. This was the secret art of chain-fighting which people spoke about sometimes, in hushed voices. The chains were lashed to the Shrimp's thin forearms with leather straps, he controlled their length by letting them slip through his hands. He crushed the arm of the second swordsman with the shortened chain in his left hand, then let the right iron ball shoot out to the chain's full length. It smashed the face of the third hooligan with the force of a sledgehammer.
Only two of the attackers were still on their feet. One made a futile attempt to catch the left ball on his sword, the other turned to make his escape. Ma Joong wanted to jump the latter, but it wasn't necessary. The Shrimp let the right iron ball hit his spine with a sickening thud, the man fell forward flat on his face. At the same time the left chain had slung itself round the sword of the last rogue that remained; it curled upwards along the blade like an angry snake. The Shrimp jerked the man closer, shortened the chain in his other hand, and let the iron ball smash his temple. It was all over.
The small hunchback skilfully caught one ball in each hand, slung the chains round his forearms and pulled his sleeves down over them. When Ma Joong stepped up to him he suddenly heard a deep voice behind him saying sadly:
'You twisted again!'
It was the Crab. He had freed himself of the limp body of the club-wielder lying half over him and was sitting up now, with his back against a tree trunk. He repeated disgustedly: 'Twisted again!'
A CHAIN-FIGHTER DEFEATS THE ASSASSINS
The Shrimp turned on him and said sharply:
'I did not!'
'You did!' the Crab said firmly. 'I saw you use your elbow, clearly. It spoiled your last short-chain.' He rubbed his bulging chest, the blow that would have killed any other man didn't seem to have hurt him much. He scrambled up, spat on the ground and went on: 'Twisting is bad. It must be flip. From the wrist.'
'A twist gets you in sideways!' the Shrimp said crossly.
'It must be a flip,' the Crab said stolidly. He bent over the club-wielder and muttered: 'Pity I nipped his throat a bit too hard.' He went on to the leader, the only ruffian who was still alive. He was lying there gasping, his hands pressed to the left side of his breast that was oozing with blood. 'Who sent you?' the Crab asked.
'We ... Lee said . . .'
The man's voice was stifled by a stream of blood that came gushing from his mouth. His body twitched convulsively, then he lay still.
Ma Joong had been examining the other dead men. He said with undisguised admiration:
'Mighty fine work, Shrimp ! Where did you learn that?'
'I trained him,' the Crab said quietly. 'Ten years on end. Keep him at it, daily. Well, we are near our home here, let's go and have a drink. We can gather up the remains later.'
They walked on, the Shrimp lagging behind, still sulking. Ma Joong asked the Crab wistfully:
'Couldn't I learn that too, Crab?'
'No. Hefty fellows like you and me can't. We'd always want to impart our force to those balls, and that's wrong. You just set them into motion, thereafter you must let them do the work, you only guide them. Technically that's called the suspended balance, for you are hanging, as it were, between those two whirling balls, you see. Only small, light fellows can do that. Anyway, you can use this art only out in the open, with plenty of elbow space. I do all the indoor fighting, the Shrimp does the outside work. We are a team, you know.' Pointing at a sagging small shed of cracked boards leaning against a tall yew tree, he remarked casually: 'That there is Miss Ling's place.'