Cripple Grandpa's leg-work was so fast he could run up into the sky—so who had chopped off his leg? Old Ma's fists were so fierce—so who had hewn off his right arm? And Grandpa Butcher's blade—who could break through it and cut him clean in two at the waist?
Qin Mu watched the true craft of the butcher, Old Ma, and the Cripple with equal awe and confusion. When he finished the Cripple's leg-work he at last digested the power of the Blood of the Four Spirits and his constitution improved—but it had half killed him, and he wished only to collapse and sleep.
Yet that was the beginning of his suffering. Almost every day the elders captured a few beasts, refined them into Spirit Blood, and poured it down his throat. Having swallowed it, he was subjected to frantic training until they had worn him out utterly. Beyond the Cripple's leg-work, Old Ma's fists, and the butcher's blade, he still learned forging from the Mute, calligraphy and painting from the Deaf, and judging position by ear from Blind Grandpa—then, blindfolded, compared rod technique with him.
When he could go no further, the Chief would call him over to breathe and exhale together. The breathing method the Chief taught him, he said, was made specially to train the Domineering Body—it was called the Triple-Elixir Art of the Domineering Body, and it was very powerful. Qin Mu could not see how mighty it was, but after breathing with the Chief his fatigue faded quickly and his spirit returned, so he deemed it miraculous.
"Chief, what you're teaching him is nothing but the commonest Guidance Art, isn't it?" Healer Grandpa's eyes flickered; only when Qin Mu had walked far away did he lower his voice.
"Right, it's the Guidance Art." The Chief did not deny it. "Each of the Four Spirit Bodies has its own method: the Green Dragon Spirit Body cultivates Green Dragon qi, the White Tiger the White Tiger qi, the Vermilion Bird the Vermilion Bird qi, the Black Tortoise the Black Tortoise qi. But Mu'er's body holds none of these four natures of qi, so none of our arts will work on him. All I can teach him is the simplest technique—the Guidance Art, which even an ordinary man can practice, because only it carries no nature."
"But the Guidance Art is too simple, too common," the healer objected. "Cultivating it, at most you become a martial artist, with little achievement."
The Chief's face turned strange. "I used to think so too. But now I see we were too quick to despise the lowliest of arts. Mu'er has cultivated it with me since he was small, and his vital qi has grown very strong indeed—only, that qi has no nature, so it cannot display any power."
"How strong?"
"If his qi carried your natures of Green Dragon qi, his power would already equal half the cultivation of your Spirit Fetus Depository."
The healer cried out in shock: "I have already shattered the Celestial Man Wall and opened the Celestial Man Depository! For years the Five Glows, the Six Conjunctions, and the other depositories have been developed to their very limit. Half my Spirit Fetus Depository equals the peak of a martial artist! He has not yet opened his Spirit Fetus Depository, yet his cultivation already stands at a martial artist's peak. If he opens it, won't his cultivation be many times that of the Four Spirit Bodies? Is this still the Guidance Art?"
The Chief too was puzzled. "This art seen everywhere does hold some mystery. Though simple, its foundation is solid beyond imagining. Mu'er has cultivated it for eight years. It advanced slowly at first, but lately his progress mounts faster than ever—and in these days since he has taken the Spirit Blood, it is frighteningly swift! Were it not so common, I would almost take it for some remarkable divine art…"
The healer breathed out a long breath and shook his head. "No matter how deep his cultivation, it is useless—qi without a nature can display no power. To what level do you think he can bring it?"
"I don't know either."
The healer nodded, understanding. The Guidance Art was the lowest, most elementary art, usually used to set a foundation for children; past ten, a child's bone-structure was fixed, and once his Spirit Body was tested there was no longer any need to cultivate it. After breaking through the Wall came far better arts. Yet even an ordinary man who cultivated the Guidance Art his whole life could never take Spirit Blood every day as Qin Mu did. Only the great families had such capital—but no great family would waste resources on common disciples. No family would, like the folk of the Village of Broken Elders, keep hunting the beasts of the Four Spirits to feed a common boy such as Qin Mu.
The Chief had never heard of anyone bringing the Guidance Art to its limit, nor even to Qin Mu's present level. So how far the boy would go, he did not know.
What shocked them both was that as cultivation went on, Qin Mu's power grew ever deeper. This lowest of arts revealed something extraordinary on him, firming his foundation beyond measure. A month later he could withstand several times more Spirit Blood, and his vital qi ran so deep it was as though his Spirit Fetus Depository were already open—indeed deeper! Yet, having no nature, that qi could display no power, and so concealed his true level.
There was a benefit, though: his endurance grew immense, and he recovered startlingly fast. He would practice the blade with the butcher, then fists with Old Ma, then blindfolded rod-play with Blind Grandpa, then leg-work with the Cripple, then a hundred-catty hammer at the forge. After such grueling exercise he had only to breathe a little—cultivating the so-called "Triple-Elixir Art of the Domineering Body"—and within moments his spirit surged again. Its effect startled even the Chief, who had the healer examine him secretly, lest excitement leave hidden harm.
After the examination the healer said with a strange face: "It is no excitement, and no harm. His vital qi is simply this strong—it has already begun to raise the quality of his flesh and bone." The Chief was dumbfounded; for all his wide experience he had never seen such a case—a boy turning the most ordinary Guidance Art into something beyond all expectation.
"Qin Mu, today you stay with Grandma and learn tailoring. No boxing today." Grandma Si summoned him. This hunched grandmother carried a little basket of needles and thread, and tottering on her bound feet she walked out of the village. Qin Mu hurried after her and took the basket, baffled: "Grandma, shouldn't tailoring be done in the village? Where are we going?"
"Today we go out to learn the tailoring of real clothes." Grandma Si cackled. "These days Old Ma and the Cripple have taught you many true crafts, so I mustn't be stingy. Today I'll teach you what a true tailor really has in hand."
A true tailor's skill—isn't that still just making clothes? Baffled, Qin Mu followed her downriver. Though she was a hunchback, her steps were fast; he had to use all the leg-work the Cripple taught him, running at full effort, just to keep up. After a dozen li they reached a mountain's foot where a herd of deer grazed and played, some two hundred paces ahead.
Grandma Si pulled a sewing needle from the ball of thread, flicked it, and the silver needle flashed and was gone. A deer two hundred paces off toppled over with a grunt; the rest, startled, scattered. She tottered over, and Qin Mu saw the deer lying fallen but alive—pinned through the brow by the needle, unable to move.
"Mu'er, watch carefully. This needle pins its Heavenly Soul." She made him note the brow's position, then drove a second needle into the base of the tail: "This pins its Earthly Soul." A third into the navel: "This pins its Life Soul. With the Three Souls pinned, there remain the Seven Spirits. The first, Corpse-Dog, dwells in the crown—the top of the skull." She stabbed sideways through the navel: "The second, the Down-Quiver, dwells at the Brow Wheel. Mind—it is easily confused with the Heavenly Soul; these two needles lie at the same place, one deep, one shallow. Do not err." "The third, Sparrow-Yin, lies at the Adam's apple; feel the triangular notch there." "The fourth, Swallow-Thief, at the heart-cavity, where the heart's openings gather—here." "The fifth, No-Poison, at the navel." "The sixth, Purity-Removing, at the perineum, where filth drains away." "The seventh, Stench-Lung, in the chamber of the lungs, where the old is expelled and the new drawn in."
Having pinned the Three Souls and Seven Spirits, she said: "This is the key step before making clothes—the Locking of the Soul, to lock down the Three Souls and Seven Spirits. Mu'er, have you taken it all in? Then we begin." Qin Mu did not see what this had to do with tailoring, but he noted the positions. "I've got it."
Grandma Si took scissors from the basket and cut in at the deer's lip; before long she had peeled the whole hide from the beast. Strange to say, though the hide was flayed away, not a drop of blood flowed. "The Locking of the Soul just now locked its blood, vital essence, qi and spirit, and its very souls into this hide. The deer is dead, but the hide is still alive. To truly refine it into clothes needs a few more arts. Watch closely, and note where I point!" Then she flung the hide into the air, and as it fell her tiny feet flew and she stabbed at it again and again with her finger as a needle. Before the hide touched the ground she had struck three hundred and sixteen finger-stabs, each at a different place, each with vital qi driven through. When the hide landed, it stood like a living deer, swishing its head and wagging its tail—one could hardly see it was only a skin!
Qin Mu was dumbstruck. Grandma Si cackled, spread the hide wide, and threw it over him, wrapping him inside as she laughed: "This is the clothes a true tailor should make." The hide drew tighter and tighter, seeming to grow onto his body, until he had to drop his hands to the ground. He felt he had become a deer—could even feel a short, stumpy tail! She set a bright mirror before him, and in it Qin Mu saw that he had truly become a deer. He tried to speak, but from his mouth came only the soft bleating of a deer.
"The Demon Art of Creation! Such fine sorcery! To think that in this bleak, desolate wild place one could still find remnants of the Demon and its whelps, teaching such arts of harm!"