When he saw Han Li break out in such a fury, Li Feiyu was not the least bit angry, and his face wore the same look of utter unconcern it had worn all along.
He cocked his head to one side, thrust his little finger into his ear, and set to cleaning it with complete absorption—the very picture of a man who would deal calmly with whatever might come. It was as if the storm of words beating about him had merely whistled past his head and turned to nothing.
Han Li vented his anger for a good while, yet when he saw how thick-skinned the other was, seeming to have heard not a syllable, he grew calm again of his own accord and began to feel that there must be some strange mystery to the affair after all.
"Thou art no fool, nor any arrogant braggart," said Han Li, once he had shaken off his heat. "For a man such as thee to do a thing so reckless and so fraught with peril, there must be some reason thou canst put into words."
Li Feiyu, seeing how quickly the other's wrath had ebbed and that he had given himself up again to his accustomed good sense, felt a touch of regret over the loss of the show. Yet he put on in its place a face of wounded grievance, and began to cry out his wrongs in a most piteous voice:
"By heaven, but I am wronged indeed!"
"When I opened my mouth a moment ago I would have explained everything to thee, yet never once didst thou give me leave to come in a word!"
"And now thou turnest about and art vexed with me again—I am blamed however I turn, and can in no wise please thee!"
This outcry of his, all wheedling edge and sing-song complaint, was too false by half. Any man could see at a glance the rank contrivance beneath it, and it left upon the onlooker the strong desire to box his ears.
Han Li himself could barely keep from it, and for a moment it was all he could do not to step forward and knock the fellow sprawling with a kick that would plant his teeth in the dust.
"Less of thy foolery, and be quick to give me thy explanation," said he. "Hast thou no shame before those junior disciples who look up to thee? Were they to spy so slovenly a pose, the dashing image of the cold-blooded killer thou hast laboured so long to build would be shattered to nothing in a trice." He spoke with no good grace, and pointed a little dart of mockery at the other.
In truth, Han Li had no mood to tumble and jest with the man. If this affair were not handled with extreme care, great troubles would descend upon both their heads.
Li Feiyu seemed well aware of what was passing in Han Li's mind, for he offered not a single word in answer to the jibe. Instead, he sauntered lazily over to the bundle, bent down, and picked up one of the manuals at random, then straightened himself again.
Once more upon his feet, he wore on his face a gleam of mystery, and with a smile that was half a smile, held the book out to Han Li, then signed with his eyes that Han Li should lift the cover and take a look within.
Han Li took the thin volume from his hand and shot him a puzzled glance. He understood not at all what trick the fellow was plotting.
"Open it and look, and all shall be plain to thee." Li Feiyu coaxed him, in the wheedling tone of one who longs to see a fine show.
"Thou couldst just as well speak thy mind," Han Li complained. "What need of all this hush-hush ceremony?"
Yet for all his sour looks, he went ahead and turned back the cover.
As the cover fell open there lay exposed the first page of the manual, and there upon it, in clear black strokes upon white paper, stood four bold characters: "Blink Sword Manual."
"Mm!" A small surprise escaped Han Li.
That the very first book Li Feiyu had idly snatched up should prove to be precisely what he sought—this gave him a start.
"Marvel not yet," said Li Feiyu, and one after another he tossed over several more manuals.
Han Li caught them one by one, opened them, and ran quickly through them—and then sat gaping, struck dumb with astonishment.
For in every one of them, at the head of the pages of the body, stood the same plain black characters: "Blink Sword Manual."
A long while passed before Han Li could drag his gaze away from the books in his hands.
He lifted his head, pointed at the great heap of manuals upon the ground, and asked, his words coming haltingly:
"Thou ... thou hadst best not tell me that these ... all of these are 'Blink Sword Manuals'!"
"I grieve to say, Junior Brother Han, that thou hast hit the mark." The other shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands apart, putting on an air of helplessness.
Yet the corner of his mouth twitched with a faint smile, and his tone fairly sparkled with gloating mischief—the very reverse of what his words professed.
"Impossible!" Han Li demanded, giving no heed at all to the fellow's petty games. "There are near to a hundred books lying here. How can they all be Blink Sword Manuals?"
"Thou askest me, but whom am I to ask?"
"When I stumbled upon so many manuals bearing the selfsame title in a corner of the library, I was not a little startled myself!" Li Feiyu rolled his eyes and muttered the words under his breath, putting on a face still trembling with the fright.
And then he caught sight of Han Li standing frozen and speechless, and could no longer hold in a great burst of laughter.
To Li Feiyu, the sight of Han Li struck dumb with surprise was a rare marvel indeed. In ordinary course Han Li was always before him the very soul of composure, calm and assured, as though the very word "astonishment" could never find a place in him.
But this present dazed and wooden Han Li—why, it made all Li Feiyu's pains of these past days seem well spent, and the bargain cheap at the price.
After a space Han Li at last shook himself awake.
Clutching the several books in his hand, he bowed his head and pondered a little, then lifted his face, thoughtful and absorbed, and spoke at his own unhurried pace:
"Hast thou counted these books?"
"How many are there in all?"
"Of course I have counted them, and not once only," returned Li Feiyu, without an instant's hesitation, and rattled off the number without a second thought. "In all, four-and-seventy manuals bearing the selfsame name." And he hurried on, a little defensive: "Had I not fixed their exact number, and were a volume or two to go missing when we return them, why, then would we be for it in earnest."
Han Li sat quietly turning the pages, which were somewhat yellowed with age, in his hand, and began to scan closely the manual he had taken up.