Qin Mu thought it over. Mu Beifeng, the Patriarch of the Li River Sect, was an official of the second rank — and this white-browed old man named Gu Linuan was of the first rank, so he must be far stronger!
"This old senior speaks the truth," he told Hu Ling'er.
"How can you know that?"
"The fog is breathed out by the dragon soul." Qin Mu pointed at the dragon mother's roaming soul. Wherever it passed the fog grew thick, and wherever the fog passed the dried corpses rose to their feet, able to sniff out where Qin Mu stood, drifting toward him on their own.
"This fog throws the corpses into a state neither living nor dead. It is her way of protecting her son, and of protecting this hall." When the fog parted, the corpses fell and lay still; when it closed again, they came alive and struck at whoever entered. They were the hall's guardians, keeping the dragon pearl from being seized and the frozen dragonling's "healing" undisturbed. And their source, just as the old man said, must be the dragon pearl, draining the blood and qi of invading martial artists to keep the young dragon alive.
Qin Mu was troubled. "Senior Gu, I am willing to save you, but your junior's strength is paltry. I fear I have the will but not the power."
Gu Linuan chuckled. "Of course you lack the strength to undo the mystic ice of the dragon pearl. But I have it. Obey me and you can free me! Once I am free, whatever you wish, you shall have!" His words carried pride; plainly the rank of Guardian of the Hereditary Prince stood high.
"This old man still has his whole cultivation within him; the ice will not freeze me to death. I will spend the last of my cultivation to shove this blade at my waist out through the ice. Take it and cut down the dragon mother's soul! Once her soul dies, the pearl can no longer hold me. And when I emerge, I will give you this dragon pearl!"
Qin Mu was startled. "Cut down the dragon mother? Senior, I've only just reached the realm of the Spirit Womb. I am a martial artist of no account."
Gu Linuan sneered. "Of course you could not — but with my sword you will. This is no common blade, nor that shoddy thing on your back. It is a sword of the court, of the first rank! The court of the State of Yankang gathered the finest artisans and forged it from the most excellent treasures! There are only sixteen offices of the first rank in all the land, and sixteen such swords, each named — mine is called the Shao Bao Sword."
Qin Mu hesitated. "How does it compare to the staff I carry?"
Gu Linuan scoffed. "The old monk's Khakkhara is fine, and the Great Thunderclap Monastery a rare great sect. But a treasure forged by one sect, and a treasure forged by the might of a whole state — where's the comparison? There are still two or three sects like the Monastery in Yankang."
Qin Mu's heart stirred. "Then why did you not cut down the dragon mother yourself?"
Gu Linuan fell silent, then sighed. "I had not seen the key at first. When I saw the pearl I meant to rid it of its harm, and caught off guard I fell for it. Once sealed, I could only guard my primal qi against the death of the ice; to wield the sword has grown beyond me. Do you know how many years I have lain here? Two hundred, no less! To have kept my life this long is no small feat."
Qin Mu sympathized. "Two hundred years in the ice — I fear I would have gone mad long ago."
Gu Linuan sighed. "It is well you came. I will spend my last primal qi to free this Shao Bao Sword from the ice. Slay the dragon mother, and save me!"
Qin Mu nodded solemnly. "Your junior will give his all!"
Gu Linuan swelled the last of his primal qi, and the sword at his waist moved within the ice, slowly. More than an hour passed before the blade showed its hilt; then the whole hilt emerged, though the scabbard stayed frozen fast.
Gu Linuan looked weary, his voice hoarse. "My primal qi is nearly spent. Boy, cut down the dragon mother without delay!"
Qin Mu answered, and a qi thread as thick as an arm flew out, curled about the hilt, and with a ringing clang the Shao Bao Sword leapt free, cold light flashing in all directions! Both he and Hu Ling'er's eyes stung as if wounded, but before long their sight returned.
"What are you doing?" Gu Linuan watched as Qin Mu's coarse qi thread wound the sword and sent it chasing the dragon mother's soul, its blows all falling astray. He was enough to laugh and cry. "Is this how one drives a sword with qi? Who taught you your sword-control arts? Who taught you swordplay?"
Qin Mu halted, abashed. "I have no skill in the sword-control arts, and never learned swordplay."
Gu Linuan was half dead with rage. "Then why do you haul that sword satchel on your back?"
"As a kind of training — it is very heavy."
Gu Linuan nearly spat blood. "Very well. I will teach you the sword-control arts of driving a sword with qi. Once you learn, you can cut down the dragon mother."
Qin Mu shook his head. "I won't learn it."
Gu Linuan's three corpses all but flew into a rage; were he not sealed in ice he would have leapt out and beaten the boy black and blue.
"Grandma said someone will teach me better sword arts. If I learned other men's, that person would not teach me."
Gu Linuan choked, then laughed. "Better sword arts? The finest under heaven are the sword arts of Yankang! The State Preceptor canvassed every school in the land, gathered the masters of swordplay from everywhere, and together they created a style! Forged from the wisdom of every sword master in the world — is that not the best? Does it not leave these sect founders, each groping alone and shutting fast his gates, ten thousand li behind?"
Qin Mu could not refute him. For all his resentment over the Li River affair, he could not but admire the Preceptor's breadth of spirit — to set aside the enmity between schools, to gather every sword master to one land, to create sword arts in common.
"I won't learn it," Qin Mu shook his head.
Gu Linuan wished he could shatter the ice, string the boy up, and thrash his backside. After a while he smiled. "Very well — I will not teach you swordplay, only the sword-control arts. They are not a style of swordplay; learning them will not hinder other men's arts."
Qin Mu's heart stirred, and reluctantly he nodded.
"So you are not rotten wood after all. This art is called the Dan Xin Jue — it teaches control of the sword, and hands over no swordplay at all." Gu Linuan's spirits rallied. "A loyal heart — dan xin — is a heart of utter sincerity, flawless and lucid as crystal, refined through nine cycles to purest stillness. This art demands a babe's innocent heart; with it the sword follows where the heart goes, and nothing stands against you. The first step: the heart like fire, the furnace in the field; heart-fire refines true essence, the furnace-field plows its ridges, seeds of fire set in the dykes. Then dare let ten suns of the yang spirit rise, and the blazing holy fire lights the blazing heart..."
Qin Mu made a strenuous effort to memorize it, for the Dan Xin Jue was rich in implication; without a master to explain its subtlety one could never know how to cultivate it. Gu Linuan recited the whole once, then explained it word by word, the mystery of its working, until Qin Mu's heart felt like a spirit ape scratching its head and ears.
At last Gu Linuan finished. "Cultivate it, then come control the sword. In ten days at most, two at least, you will drive the sword with qi and cut down the dragon mother's soul! The little fox at your breast has also heard the finest sword-control art under heaven — a stroke of luck."