Chapter 23: A Most Generous Gift
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
They appeared at the far side of the valley, six figures stepping out from the slope as if the forest itself had been holding its breath. Four wore sleek black armor that gleamed oddly in the thin winter light, much finer than the usual Mountain Patrol gear. The other two wore old, battered iron armor—almost falling apart at the edges—and looked like they’d belonged to this region for ages. One of them let out a sharp whistle, and from the shadowy forest, three large, peculiar birds burst into view. They had fluffy, yellow-brown feathers and thick, powerful legs that were built for sprinting, not flight.
Qin Ming recognized these odd creatures at once. He’d seen birds like these the previous day, the ones raised at Golden Rooster Ridge, able to dash through the forest’s underbrush with astonishing speed.
Before Qin Ming could move, one of the men in the finer armor called out, “Hey, kid! Gotta hand it to you. Facing down that Blood Snake all by yourself? You’ve got some serious guts.” His voice was surprisingly casual, like someone commenting on a clever trick during a festival.
Qin Ming didn’t reply. He remembered that just moments ago, this same fellow had aimed a bow at him. He tightened the cloth over his face, keeping his expression hidden.
The young man sighed, sounding half-apologetic. “Alright, alright, maybe I got a bit carried away. Just wanted to see what kind of stuff you were made of, y’know? Guess I was wrong.”
Qin Ming rolled his eyes. He spoke with the bluntness of a teenage boy who’d had enough nonsense for one day. “Oh, sure, mate,” he said sarcastically. “Real believable.”
The man tilted his head, looking Qin Ming up and down more closely. “Hold on, you sound really young,” he said, surprised. “At your age, and you’ve already hit a second Awakening? That’s pretty wild. You must have some serious skills.” He narrowed his eyes as if trying to place Qin Ming in some grand puzzle. Someone this talented, out here in the backwoods, had to be special.
He put away his bow, raising both hands as if wanting to show he meant no harm. “Look, kid, I’ll admit I messed up. It’s just… my older brother’s hurt real bad, and we need something special to help him heal. That’s why I tried to grab that Blood Snake before you got away. Desperate times and all that.”
Qin Ming was far from convinced. “Sure, you were so ‘desperate’ you were ready to put an arrow through my back, right?” He spoke in a steady, teenage tone, each word dripping with doubt.
He didn’t linger. He stuffed the dead Blood Snake into his beast-hide bag, determined to keep what he’d earned through hard work and risk. “If it’s all just a misunderstanding,” he said briskly, “then I’m out of here.”
“Hey, no need to rush off!” The younger man in black armor sounded suddenly eager. “We could actually be friends, you know. Maybe you don’t realize it, but we’re from Red Glow City. We’ve got connections, resources—if you help us out now, we’ll pay you back in the future. Big time.”
Qin Ming gave him a long, silent stare. He could see the older brother in the group, slumped slightly, with a strange bluish tint to his face. It reminded Qin Ming of the time he’d once caught a terrible fever after slipping into a ravine. He knew a serious ailment when he saw it.
“Trust me,” the younger man pressed, trying too hard to sound friendly. “Hand over that snake. My brother’s life depends on it. Join us, and we’ll remember you. We’ll help you. Doesn’t that sound better than running off alone?”
Qin Ming didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Dude, I’m not exactly feeling the love here,” he said flatly, sounding like a teen who’d heard one too many bad excuses. He noticed how the others in the group had begun spreading out, shifting their positions. They looked ready to pounce at any moment.
He set his jaw and asked, “So what’s it gonna be? If all’s forgiven, can I leave or not? This isn’t Red Glow City. There’s no crowd to impress, so drop the sweet talk.”
The younger man’s face tightened, losing its forced smile. “Guess you really don’t know what’s good for you,” he snapped, voice turning icy.
Qin Ming could almost taste the threat in the air. Without a word, he slipped out of his two layers of extra armor to move more freely. He was quick and careful, making sure the beast-hide bag was secure. He checked his long knife—there was a tiny chip in the blade from his earlier fight with the Blood Snake. Even the iron tips of his spears had been blunted by the creature’s tough red scales. That snake had been no joke.
The men surrounding him drew their weapons, their postures suddenly fierce and mean. They had bows, great swords—everything. There was no going back now.
Only the older brother stood still, looking into the forest. “You’re waiting for something, aren’t you?” he said softly. “Another Blood Snake, maybe?” He sounded almost curious. “No matter. I need that snake, too. I won’t let it slip away.”
Just then, a flicker of red appeared through the trees: the Blood Snake was coming back. It must have retreated into the forest because of the cold, which slowed it down. Now it returned, coiling itself upright, hissing furiously as it eyed the newcomers.
With lightning speed, Qin Ming hurled his iron spears. The group raised shields and swords, ready to deflect them. But Qin Ming’s target wasn’t them. His spears landed with horrible, wet thuds in the three giant birds. The poor creatures shrieked, blood staining their feathers.
The snake saw the wounded birds and, in its rage, lunged forward, completely fearless. The older brother raised his long sword, his eyes never leaving the snake. “Handle the boy,” he ordered the others. “I’ll deal with this thing. The more Blood Snakes we get, the better.”
“Big bro, are you sure you’re okay?” the younger man called, sounding worried now.
“I’m fine,” came the calm reply. “My injury came from exploring a special node, not some foolish accident.” He stepped forward, sword gleaming.
Qin Ming knew exactly when to seize a chance. With the snake’s attention on the newcomers, he turned and ran, following a path he’d memorized. He’d planned it out ahead of time, setting traps just in case something like this happened. He heard the thudding of feet behind him as they gave chase, snow crunching under boots and armor plates rattling.
From behind, the younger man tried to shoot arrows at Qin Ming, but sprinting at full speed made it hard to aim. Qin Ming ducked behind trees, using the trunks for cover. The older brother’s strength was unbelievable—Qin glanced back to see him carving into the snake as if it were made of soft clay. That gave the pursuers more confidence, sure they’d corner Qin Ming soon.
But Qin Ming was no fool. He led them through a tricky part of the forest, where thick branches blocked all but one narrow path. The first man who followed him closely screamed suddenly and toppled into the snow. An iron spear hidden beneath the white powder had impaled his foot, blood splattering in the pristine drift. The trap worked perfectly.
The others pulled up short, eyes wide with shock. The younger man at the back, sword in hand, snarled, “Follow his footprints exactly! Don’t step off his path!”
They didn’t spare a glance for their injured comrade. Instead, they rushed forward, determined to close the gap. The younger man muttered darkly to himself as he charged, “He can’t be that strong. He’s just some random kid. Even if he’s awakened twice, he’s nothing special.”
Qin Ming realized he couldn’t run forever. This was it—time to stand his ground and fight. He slowed slightly, letting them think he was tiring. The younger man noticed and shouted, trying to sound confident, “Running out of steam, huh? Should’ve just handed over the snakes. Would’ve saved you a lot of trouble!”
Qin Ming ignored the taunt, breathing steadily, focusing on what he’d practiced. He wielded a long-handled black metal hammer—a heavy weapon that he moved as though it were light as a feather. When the younger man came within range, Qin Ming struck first. The hammer slammed down hard, shaking the man’s grip on his sword and sending shockwaves of pain up his arms.
“W-What the—?” the younger man gasped, stunned. He hadn’t expected such raw strength from a boy who looked like he barely needed to shave. Each swing of Qin Ming’s hammer was precise, calculated, and controlled—like a swordsman’s blade. The young man’s eyes widened as he realized the kid knew what he was doing. This wasn’t some wild forest fighter flailing around; Qin Ming was a skilled warrior who simply preferred a hammer over a sword.
Panicking, the younger man tried to counter, but Qin Ming threw his hammer straight at the man’s chin. The crunch that followed made the pursuer stagger back in a daze. In that instant, Qin Ming drew his long knife and smoothly sliced off the man’s arm before he could even cry out. The scream that followed was terrible, echoing through the trees, but it was cut short when Qin Ming struck once more with the hammer, ending it immediately.
No time for pity. Qin Ming looked up to see three more enemies approaching. He grabbed what he could from the fallen opponent and darted off before they could overwhelm him.
Meanwhile, back near the valley, Liu Huai Shan and the Mountain Patrol members had returned. They arrived to find the older brother standing victorious over the corpse of the Blood Snake. The man’s sword dripped with dark blood, and his posture was tense as if expecting more trouble.
Liu Huai Shan held up his hands, trying to appear harmless. “We don’t want any trouble,” he said calmly. “The snake’s all yours. We’ll just be going now.”
The Mountain Patrol members were disciplined and careful. They raised their bows in case the older brother attacked, but they also backed away slowly. The older brother watched them for a long moment. He must have felt the strain of his injury because after a few tense seconds, he let them retreat without a fight. It wasn’t worth the risk.
Once they were gone, he leaned against a tree, breathing hard. He allowed himself a short rest before moving in the direction Qin Ming had taken. Snow fell softly, sprinkling the ground and the tracks that led deeper into the forest.
Soon enough, the older brother heard sounds—rattling branches, muffled shouts—and he followed them. What he found left him furious: Qin Ming had taken out his men. The boy stood there, holding one of the injured survivors up by the collar as if he weighed nothing at all.
Qin Ming’s voice was calm and cold. “Got any fancy energy techniques hidden up your sleeve?” he asked, sounding like a teenage boy who wanted answers but didn’t really expect anything special. The injured man’s jaw was shattered; he couldn’t have spoken even if he tried.
Seeing his leader, the injured man tried to say something. Before he could, Qin Ming knocked him out for good. The older brother’s heart hammered in rage. How had this nobody managed to do all this?
Snarling, the older brother charged forward, only to howl in pain and collapse as something sharp impaled his foot. Another trap—this time his own brother’s sword, cleverly placed to guide him along a false safe path. Qin Ming had set everything up with a cleverness that felt almost mocking.
Qin Ming finished off the injured man and turned slowly to face the older brother. He stepped away, calmly picking up the bow that belonged to this furious leader. With precise aim, he loosed an arrow. The older brother tried to dodge but couldn’t move quickly with his foot trapped. The arrow struck true.
Moments later, Qin Ming ended it with his hammer, smooth and efficient, as if he were chopping firewood. He didn’t linger over the bodies or waste time feeling sorry. Instead, he picked up the second Blood Snake, stuffing it into his bag with the first.
“Two Blood Snakes in one day,” he said quietly, sounding honestly impressed with his own luck. “Thanks for the generous gift.”