Han Li bent his head and weighed the matter a while. It seemed plain enough that, unless he suffered the other to examine his cultivation, the business could not be got through at all. The man had granted him the antidote to the Corpse Worm Pill without a moment's hesitation, and therein had shown a certain good faith. Should Han Li, for his part, go on hedging and putting him off, the man would but be moved the more to suspicion, fancying that in truth he had never attained the fourth layer, and had sought to deceive him with false words. In such a fashion the affair would whirl away in a bad direction, and any manner of untoward waves might rise unforeseen.
What was more, Han Li had long foreseen this very step, and made provision in advance; even should the man turn on him the selfsame instant he withdrew his hand from the pulse, Han Li nevertheless had within his means a fair device for slipping away.
Wherefore he raised his head, looked Doctor Mo full in the eyes, and spoke slowly:
"Elder Mo, in return for the readiness with which you gave me the antidote, this shall be the last time I trust you. I pray you not to fail me."
And so saying, he stretched forth his right wrist, keeping close watch the while upon the other's every reaction, ready to snatch it back in the very turn of a breath should aught seem amiss.
Alas, Doctor Mo kept his face set through all in a feigned smile, and scarce aught could be read in it to betray a change. Only at hearing the words of consent did his eyebrows twitch the least little, but straightway they fell back into their former place, as though he had long been certain of the answer Han Li should give.
Without another word, he put forth his withered left hand, laid it gently upon Han Li's wrist, and suffered his smile gradually to fade, his countenance growing grave and solemn, as though he were about a task most sacred.
Han Li, for his part, kept his fourth-layer power restored to full strength the while; and seeing that expression upon Doctor Mo, a doubt stole into him, and his wariness leapt at once to its very highest pitch. His left hand stole quietly to his waist, where there lay a short sword in its sheath, made to his own order.
Slowly, a look of glad surprise spread over Doctor Mo's face; for he had marked, within Han Li's meridians, an unending and wondrous energy, whose ebb and flow was of a strength that far exceeded the minimum he had looked for in his mind.
Even a man so deep in counsel and so heavy in craft as he, when he saw the great scheme he had so long contrived at last grown like to succeed, could not keep his countenance from blooming afresh; only just now the smile had been squeezed out with force, whereas now it was a joy welling up from the very heart.
"Wonderful! In very truth, it is the fourth layer of the Art of Eternal Youth. Ha! Ha! How wonderful, in sooth! Ha ha! Ha ha!" And Doctor Mo gave way to a peal of laughter before Han Li, unreserved and full-throated, so that the sound of it set the whole room humming; yet never once did he loose his hold upon Han Li's wrist, but kept it gripped all the while.
"Elder Mo, what is this you do? Is it not time to let me go?" Han Li's countenance darkened, for he knew by then the affair sat ill; and he sought to wrench his right hand free with all his might, but the other held it fast and firm, scarce moving a jot.
"Let you go? Very well, I shall let you go!" And at these words Doctor Mo's laughter died, and in its place his face turned to a mask of ferocity.
Of a sudden he loosed a great shout: "Hah!"
Han Li felt his ears burst with a roar, his eyes swam in darkness, the heaven and earth reeled about him, his body lost all balance, and, no longer able to keep his feet, he crumpled upon the spot and sank to the floor; the left hand that had lain upon his sword-hilt slid away, all strength gone from it.
"Woe is me!" Though his body no longer obeyed his will, Han Li's mind remained clear, and he knew that he had been caught napping—that the man had stolen a march upon him and dealt a savage blow, and that for the present he could do naught but wait helplessly for his doom.
"You see, boy, you are yet too green. Try as you may, what trick can you work now?" Doctor Mo, seeing that all fell out as he had expected, and that the stroke had found its mark, could not forbear a note of triumph.
"Come here, then!" With his left hand he gave a mighty tug at his own breast, dragging Han Li across the floor until he lay at his very feet; then he bent low, put forth the forefinger of his right hand, and aimed it straight at the numb point upon Han Li's chest.
There came a dull thump!—for Doctor Mo's finger struck as it were against a plate of iron, and the blow rebounded with a muffled jar, so that the forward part of the finger ached with a hidden pain; and the point-digging, of course, came to naught.
"What is this!" Doctor Mo was taken aback by this unforeseen turn, and a fright leapt within his heart.
"Can it be that beneath his garment he wears an iron breastplate as well!" he wondered, not a little astonished.
His gaze, unbidden, swept over the cloth of Han Li's robe; but the thinness of it in no wise resembled a hidden armor within, and this perplexed him no little.
Yet in that very instant of Doctor Mo's distraction, Han Li won back command of his own body; for his power of recovery far outran what Doctor Mo had reckoned of him.
The sixth layer of the Art of Eternal Youth, after all, had not been practiced in vain; his power to shake off every foul assault far surpassed what any common man could have dreamed, and this even Han Li himself had not foreseen.
Doctor Mo, for his part, cast from his mind with decision the riddle that beset him, and would have fallen upon a fresh device to subdue Han Li; but of a sudden he felt that wrist which he had gripped so tightly turn slick and supple beyond all measure, so that he could no longer hold it fast at all.
In his astonishment he tightened his grasp a little more; yet "whoosh"—the other's hand, like an eel, slipped clean out from between his fingers. At this Doctor Mo was left gaping in very earnest.
Han Li, regardless of the man's amazement, without warning threw himself in a donkey roll, tumbling deftly away from him to a corner of the room, and only when he had put a goodly space between himself and Doctor Mo did he dare to rise slowly to his feet.
His face was now void of all expression, and his eyes, cold as ice, were fixed upon Doctor Mo.
He wasted no more words upon the man; whatever the cause for which the other would seize him, that he meant him no good was beyond all doubt. All those tales the fellow had told him before—how he had need of Han Li's Art of Eternal Youth to rouse his hidden point—were plainly a monstrous lie, not to be credited in the least.
For his own sake, and for the safety of his kin at home, Han Li slowly drew the short sword from his waist with his left hand. It was but a foot or so in length, and its green blade gave off a cold gleam, so that a man could tell at a glance how sharp it was—a fine sword and a good.
"Today one of us two must die, and the other alone may walk alive out of this room." His words were cold as death; and for the first time, before Doctor Mo, Han Li bared his fangs.