Chapter 4: The Interception
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
Qin Ming turned his eyes away from the icy landscape, adjusting the leather sack of animal skins over his shoulders, and began to retrace his steps along the snow-covered path. Today had been a good day; he felt a lightness in his heart. A half-full bag of food meant he wouldn’t be going hungry anytime soon.
The snow-covered ground beneath him was uneven, full of hidden dips and rocks that could twist an ankle. Still, Qin Ming wasn’t fazed. With enough supplies to last him, he could focus more on his training, repeating those precise moves for longer periods. Maybe, if he kept at it, he’d finally see some progress.
He was already looking forward to early spring when the world would awaken. For now, the land lay silent under a thick blanket of ice and snow, the trees and grasses withered, and everything felt hushed. But once this barren season passed, the Flame Springs in the deeper parts of the mountains would start bubbling again, and the ground would steam with warmth. Plants would sprout once more, and the earth would come alive. It was a sight he couldn’t wait to see.
As he neared the edge of the dense forest, Qin Ming’s steps suddenly halted. He dropped the leather sack and gripped his hunting spear tightly, spinning around with swift precision.
From the darkness, a pair of glowing red eyes appeared—eerie and menacing—charging toward him at an unnatural speed.
A cold shiver ran down Qin Ming’s spine. Even from a distance, he could sense the creature’s size and the ferocity of its charge. The wind carried a foul stench that churned his stomach.
Planting his spear firmly in the snow, he unstrung his bow with practiced ease. His strong arms, strengthened by relentless training, pulled the heavy bow—a feat most grown men would struggle with—into a taut arc. The iron-tipped arrow shot forward with a sharp twang, the vibration of the string echoing through the cold air.
Far off, the charging beast stopped in its tracks, perhaps struck by the arrow.
Qin Ming stayed focused, releasing arrow after arrow. His aim was sharp; each iron-tipped arrow flew into the night with deadly precision.
A low, rumbling growl came from the thick forest, and the crimson eyes vanished, followed by the sound of branches snapping as the beast retreated.
Qin Ming did not relax. The unknown creature was injured but not fatally. Now hidden among the trees, it was even more dangerous.
He didn’t linger. Snatching up his sack and spear, he sprinted out of the forest and into the open snowfield. He knew better than to stay in such a dark, enclosed space where a sudden ambush could happen at any moment. He suspected it was a particularly tough mutated beast.
The sound of snow being violently disturbed echoed from the forest—the creature was fiercely chasing him.
Qin Ming didn’t waste any time. His arrows flew again, some hitting thick tree trunks with such force that snow cascaded down like white waterfalls.
Again, the beast retreated, going silent in the shadows.
A typical wild animal would either flee in fear or charge when wounded, but this mutated creature remained hidden in the darkness, waiting, looking for the right moment.
Qin Ming stood his ground, bow in hand, facing the thick forest, locked in a tense standoff with the unseen enemy. The snow beneath the trees churned as the dark shape occasionally emerged, its red eyes cold and forbidding in the night, tension filling the air like a thick fog.
Finally, the creature seemed to lose its nerve. It let out a low, frustrated growl and slunk back into the forest.
Qin Ming’s face remained set. Even through the shadows, he could make out the creature’s upright, bounding shape. He couldn’t quite tell what kind of mutated beast it was.
He slowly backed away, every sense on high alert, though the world around him stayed eerily still. He remained cautious until he was less than a mile from the village’s Flame Springs.
He knew well the bitter lessons of those who had come before him. Some villagers, relaxed when they were almost home, were ambushed by shadows that had been lying in wait, dragged away without a sound.
Outside Twin Trees Village, three young men stood shivering in the biting cold, stamping their feet and rubbing their hands together, their breaths steaming in the frosty air, their eyebrows crusted with ice.
They had positioned themselves along the snow-covered path where Qin Ming had gone into the dark wilderness, speaking in low, grumbling voices.
“It’s freezing out here. Standing around like this is pure torture. Maybe we should just leave. I bet he’s dead by now, frozen out there in the wild, no way he’s coming back with anything,” muttered one.
“Why rush? What if he gets lucky, like Old Man Li, and finds a beast frozen to death in the outer parts of the forest?” another suggested.
These three were lazy troublemakers, good for nothing but causing mischief in the village. They dared not venture into the treacherous parts of the mountains themselves but enjoyed throwing their weight around the village, always looking for a free meal.
Knowing Qin Ming had gone hunting, they had planned to ambush him and take whatever he brought back.
“That Qin Ming is quick and strong. We better not mess this up and end up getting beaten ourselves,” one cautioned.
“What are you afraid of? He’s just gotten over a serious illness; he’s got to be weak. Just throw a leather sack over his head when he shows up, and remember, don’t kill him,” another said, though his voice quivered with uncertainty.
They had no stomach for murder, only for dirty tricks and theft.
Qin Ming had been on guard the entire way back, his nerves taut. His sharp eyes spotted three dark figures from a distance.
He crouched low, the snow almost reaching his shoulders, vanishing from view. Silently, he crept along the path he’d carved through the snow earlier, eventually recognizing the three idle villagers.
He stopped at a good spot, close enough to hear their conversation.
After a moment, his face darkened. These three were planning to ambush him and steal his hard-earned catch?
Though he hadn’t gone bear hunting—just raided a squirrel’s nest—it wasn’t exactly something to boast about. But he had indeed faced life-and-death situations twice, first from a human-faced vulture and then from an unknown mutated creature. A slight misstep could have cost him his life. These fools dared to rob him of the food he’d risked his life for? This was a line he wouldn’t let them cross.
The three troublemakers—Hu Yong, Ma Yang, and Wang You Ping—were shivering, working together to dig out a snow hole to shelter from the wind while they waited. They had miscalculated, thinking Qin Ming would go deep into the forest for hunting and come back much later. If not for that, they wouldn’t have dared speak so openly.
“Be cautious now, and keep quiet when he gets here,” Ma Yang whispered.
Hu Yong nodded. “Strike fast and hard from behind. Don’t waste time!”
Wang You Ping grumbled, “I hope he comes back soon, and with some prey. I’m freezing out here and can’t wait to smack him a few times.”
Suddenly, the snow cave they had dug collapsed with a loud crash, burying the three beneath it. Snow filled their mouths and noses, taking them by surprise.
Hu Yong was the quickest to react, bursting out first, but before he could steady himself, a foot slammed into his face. With a heavy thud, he crumpled to the ground, his features twisted in pain. Then a hunting fork struck his shoulder, nearly breaking the bone, sending him stumbling back into the snow.
Ma Yang fared no better. Just as he emerged from the snow, Qin Ming kicked him square in the nose. The pain was sharp and stinging, a mix of ache and numbness. He let out a howl, tears streaming down his face, rolling around in the snow.
Wang You Ping, sensing danger, burrowed deeper into the snow, too scared to come out. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his back as the steel spear pierced through his clothing, drawing blood.
“Please, don’t kill me,” he whimpered, his voice trembling. He was so terrified he’d wet himself, fearing a fatal thrust.
Qin Ming had no intention of killing him; with precise control, he merely grazed the skin, drawing a thin line of blood.
He yanked Wang You Ping out of the snow, then kicked him three meters away into another snowdrift.
“Oi, Qin Ming, come on—”
“We’re all from the same village! Spare us this time; we know we were wrong,” they pleaded, shaking with fear.
Seeing who it was and the metal fork gleaming in Qin Ming’s hand, the three quickly cowered.
They were carrying knives and clubs, but seeing Qin Ming so fierce and intimidating, they were too scared to retaliate, nursing their injuries in silence. Bullies by nature, they always folded when faced with real resistance.
Though their actions were disgusting, Qin Ming wouldn’t kill over it. A harsh lesson was necessary. Using his fork, he forced them to crouch quietly on the ground.
Then he gave them a good thrashing, stretching his muscles and warming up his body.
By the end, the three were left bruised and bloodied, crying out in pain. After a stern warning, Qin Ming finally let them go.
He reckoned these men were cowards at heart. They had neither the guts nor the strength to be truly ruthless. A thorough beating would be enough for them to learn their lesson.
Meanwhile, outside the dense forest where Qin Ming had faced off with the mutated beast, a donkey slowly approached from the open land beyond. It moved with a strange confidence, like it knew the way well and was heading into the mountains.
On the donkey’s back sat an unusual creature—a weasel as white as snow, not a single speck of impurity on its fur. In this age where the sun had set and never risen again, such pure white creatures were rare.
But it didn’t act like an ordinary animal. It was calm, almost wise. It sat upright on the donkey’s back, facing backward, looking down the path it had come from, like some seasoned traveler.
This was no ordinary wild animal. Its manner was more like that of an experienced wanderer, its eyes deep and steady as it rode the donkey without haste.
The mutated beast that Qin Ming had driven off spotted the approaching donkey. It lunged toward it but stopped dead the moment it saw the snow-white weasel. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, it turned tail and fled back into the dense forest, diving under the thick snow, its body trembling slightly.
The donkey remained unfazed, casting only a fleeting glance at the retreating beast. Like an old horse that knew the way, it continued to carry the silent, still weasel into the mountains.
The Flame Springs were now in sight, and the black and white twin trees swayed gently in the wind.
Qin Ming quickened his pace and soon reached the village entrance. Only then did he finally let out a breath and relax.
“Qin Ming is back!” someone shouted, looking up from chopping firewood.
Soon, the gates of several nearby courtyards opened wide.
Word had already spread that Qin Ming had gone out into the wilderness alone, and many were curious whether he’d make it back alive and what he might bring back with him.
“He left as soon as nightfall came, fully armed…” people murmured as they gathered.
Twin Trees Village was small, and soon, villagers appeared from every corner. Each household had a Sunstone, casting a warm, fiery glow that spread faint light across the streets.
They saw that hanging from Qin Ming’s hunting fork was a red squirrel, and the street fell silent. This was not what they had expected.
Lu Ze hurried over, his eyes scanning Qin Ming from head to toe. Seeing him safe and sound, he finally breathed a sigh of relief, his heart settling back in his chest.
“There’s talk you went into the mountains to hunt bears, and here you are… with a squirrel?” Lu Ze said, breaking the silence, his voice tinged with both concern and amusement.
“I also raided its home,” Qin Ming chuckled, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The villagers noticed the leather sack on his back and quickly understood what was inside. Their eyes gleamed with envy.
They also noticed the reddish glow of the squirrel’s fur—a sign of mutation. Such a creature was valuable beyond their wildest dreams.
“You made it back safe and sound, and with quite a haul,” said Old Liu, who lived by the village entrance, nodding approvingly.
Some villagers took the opportunity to ask if it was safe outside now.
Qin Ming recounted his journey truthfully. He wouldn’t mislead his neighbors, knowing it could cost lives. When they heard about the dangerous mutated creature in the outer regions of the forest, everyone’s expressions changed. It was still far too risky to go out alone.
Qin Ming didn’t hold back about Ma Yang, Hu Yong, and Wang You Ping’s misdeeds, which instantly sparked the villagers’ outrage.
“What a disgrace! Too scared to enter the mountains themselves, but willing to turn on a fellow villager. This isn’t just theft—they wanted to endanger his life!” someone shouted angrily.
Just then, Ma Yang, Hu Yong, and Wang You Ping stumbled back into the village, leaning heavily on each other. As soon as they showed up, Lu Ze and a few others seized the opportunity for another round of well-deserved beatings.
“Brother Lu, Uncle Yang, Grandpa Liu, stop hitting us, please! Help!” they cried, their snot and blood freezing to their faces as they screamed in pain. They’d managed to anger the whole village, and plenty of people had been waiting for a chance to settle scores.
Qin Ming handed out handfuls of nuts to the children gathered in the street, causing them to cheer and shout with delight.
Then he noticed Grandma Zhou, pale and leaning against her courtyard gate. He quickly walked over to her, and without waiting for her to say anything, left her with some dried food.
“Uncle, you’re awesome! These wild walnuts are so tasty, and the pine nuts are delicious too!” Wen Rui exclaimed inside Qin Ming’s house, his face beaming with joy. He tasted every type of nut, his little mouth constantly moving.
“Date paste, yum, sweet,” said little Wen Hui, barely over two years old, her words still a bit unclear. She was eating a bowl of steamed, pitted, and mashed red dates, and she leaned over to plant a kiss on Qin Ming’s cheek.
Nearby, the red squirrel hanging from the hunting fork began to stir. It opened its eyes and saw the group of people rummaging through its “treasure.” It looked utterly devastated.
“It really is a mutated creature—hard-working and clever, storing over thirty pounds of food,” Liang Wan Qing remarked.
The red squirrel’s eyes widened, practically blazing with fury.
At that moment, Lu Ze’s face grew serious as he said, “Qin Ming, I see you’ve recovered well. It’s time to think about ‘new beginnings’ more seriously.”