"You grow altogether too triumphant. That boy is sharp — no easy lamp to a frugal oil. See thou dost not lose all at the very brink of victory, and come to grief at that lad's hands."
Of a sudden, the voice of another young man rang out within Doctor Mo's mind.
Doctor Mo's countenance altered; it was as though hoar-frost had settled over his face. Coldly he scolded, "Yu Zitong, pry not into my affairs. I stand in no need of your admonitions. Should I succeed, rest assured there shall be a share of the benefit for you. But this art you gave me seems still to harbor some flaw — you would not be wishing some mishap upon me at the last, would you?" The suspicion in his words could scarce be concealed.
The voice seemed greatly in awe of Doctor Mo, for it hastened to justify itself at his menace. "How could there be any error? Have you not already tried it upon the beasts? As for the one that perished, that was but your own want of familiarity with the art. And the one that died — surely it shall not hinder your design."
"Humph! Best that it be so. Pity I can no longer practice further, else would I carry a few more measures of assurance." Having heard this, Doctor Mo turned once more in memory upon that experiment done the time before, and the last shred of doubt in his heart melted quite away.
When he had finished speaking, that voice — as though taught by the lesson of a moment past — held its peace and vouchsafed no answer, leaving Doctor Mo alone to mutter with a certain nervousness to himself, till the very air of the chamber grew strange and uncanny.
Now Han Li, all the while, lay hidden within an unremarked ravine, a spot far more remote and more secret even than the place where he had met with Li Feiyu.
The ground here ran in a long narrow strip, pinched between two steep little peaks into the very semblance of a Chinese "one" — shut off at either end, tight as could be, by thickets of bramble, so that there was no passing through at all. Saving one rope hung down in secret from the crown of the lesser peak, no other path led either in or out.
Moreover, there grew here a dense wood of thorns, that occupied the better part of the ground and left but a small open patch where Han Li could set foot. And woven across the top of the ravine lay countless creeping vines, tangled one into another to form a natural canopy of green, so that Han Li need not fear that some passer-by should chance to spy him beneath.
Han Li laid his goods beneath a great mass of rock, then returned to the midst of the clearing, shut his eyes, and bethought himself a while. Presently he opened them again, and in them was a firm resolve. Softer he murmured to himself: "Let me begin, then, with the hardest of all — the Cartilage Art."
And so Han Li entered upon his path of solitary cultivation.
What he did not know was that, not far from him, a little yellow bird perched upon a twig, watching him without cease by day and by night. Only because he had shown no thought of fleeing did it not fly back to report the matter to its master.
Time slipped past apace, and of those four months, half was gone in the turning of an eye.
And now, look as one might across the ravine, it stood empty of a single soul. Han Li, who had been there before, was nowhere to be seen; only that little yellow bird remained, unhurried and unruffled, perched in its place and combing its feathers slowly with its beak, casting no glance at the disappearance of the one it watched, as though it had cast its errand wholly to the nine heavens above.
Of a sudden, yet another little bird — this one gray — slipped through the green vines above and flew down into the ravine. After circling a few times it settled upon a yellow wooden stump at the edge of the clearing, plainly minded to rest a while ere it took wing again.
At this, the little yellow bird cocked its head, and eyed its newly arrived kinsman with a look of lofty disdain, then wore a sneer very like a man's, as though it held the gray bird in contempt.
The new little bird, standing upon a single leg, glanced about on every side, and at length made out its kind. It spread a wing, as if it meant to fly over.
Suddenly, unlooked-for trouble sprang up. A withered-yellow hand fell from above, and in a single grasp caught the bewildered gray bird fast.
At this strange turn the bird was seized with terror. It struggled with all its might, yet could in no wise free itself from the hold of that palm's master.
Only then did the bird perceive that the wooden stump beneath its feet had, no man knows how, become a youth in a yellow gown. The youth was dark of skin, common of feature, with bushy brows and wide eyes; saving that his gaze was somewhat clear, there was in him nothing else to draw the eye.
The youth smiled, watching the little bird struggle and struggle in his hand. Only when it was nigh quite spent did he loose his hold, and say in a gentle voice:
"Off with you, then. And be not so foolish the next time — take heed where you set down before you land."
No sooner was the bird freed than, giving no heed to its fellow, it flapped its wings in a panic and flew headlong out of the ravine without once looking back.
Watching the bird take flight, the youth stood where he was and stirred not for a good while, till at last he said slowly to himself:
"It seems my Breath-Concealment Art and my False-Concealment Art have both come to some measure of ripeness. Now must I go practice the Chamber Assassination Arts."
So saying, Han Li moved his frame and made his way toward the small wooden cabin newly built nearby. When he passed the tree where the little yellow bird sat, he could not forbear to lift his head and glance at it.
That bird of singular conduct Han Li had noted a good fortnight and more before. It had kept ever to a twig near at hand, watching him without pause, seeming full of a strange intelligence.
The moment his eyes had first fallen upon it, Han Li had been taken captive by its wits, and come to hold this yellow little bird most dear.
He had sought to entice it away; but whether by coaxing, by baiting, or by setting snares, none of his arts availed. The bird would not be gulled in the least, and would now and again cast upon him a look of contempt, as though he were some sot, so that he knew not whether to laugh or to weep.
At length, angered, he made to seize it by force; but ere he could come near, it spread its wings and sped at once into the sky. When Han Li drew off again, straight back it flew and settled in its old place, so that Han Li could do naught but stand where he was and gape.
At the thought of it, Han Li turned away with no little chagrin and troubled himself no more over the bird. Yet in his heart, dimly and by degrees, he had come to perceive that this little bird's origin was in all likelihood bound up with Doctor Mo — that it was very probably an eye and an ear which the man had sent to keep watch over him.
Han Li did not care overmuch, however. So long as Doctor Mo himself came not to spy upon him, what could a mere bird report to him of any moment? And besides, he had come to love this spirit-wise little creature, and had not the heart to deal with it by any harsh or venomous means.
Now Doctor Mo, all the while, sat within a stone chamber, tracing out a strange formation upon the floor with the ground bones of wild beasts. Even as he traced it, he debated with that other voice lodged in his head, knowing nothing of the fact that Han Li had long since seen through the eyes and ears by which he kept his watch.