Chapter 34: Truth and Lies
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming felt a surprising lightness flood into his limbs the moment he stepped into the crevice in the earth. Last time he was here, this place had nearly taken his life, but now it felt calmer, warmer—even friendly. He glanced upward and noticed the exit was about four meters above, the walls laced with silvery threads that shimmered faintly in the dim air. When he touched one, it was pleasantly warm, like a soft glow beneath his fingertips.
Armed with a short sword in one hand and a black metal hammer with a long handle in the other, Qin Ming moved forward slowly, eyes narrowed and alert. During his first visit, he’d barely managed to scrape by with his life. This time, he was determined to push deeper, no matter what he might find.
The ground beneath him was uneven, scattered with stones and dotted with beads of moisture that rolled down the rocky walls. Now and then, a drop fell, making a quiet plink as it struck the floor. Soon, the path ahead narrowed so much that Qin Ming had to turn sideways to squeeze through. It felt a bit like slipping through a crack in an old cellar door—uncomfortable but possible. He could just manage to get his shoulders through without getting stuck.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t completely dark down here. Those silver threads along the walls cast a gentle, ghostly glow. Qin Ming ran his fingers along them as he went. They seemed harmless enough—just odd. Finally, after some shuffling and scraping, he emerged into a more open area. Here, the ground was flatter, and the silver threads were woven together like giant spiderwebs. Some had a faint golden gleam, and a strange white mist drifted lazily through the air.
Standing there, Qin Ming noticed something extraordinary. He felt lighter, calmer, as though all the stress and aching muscles had melted away. It reminded him of sinking into a hot bath at home. Furrowing his brow, he wondered, Is this because of some special energy in the mountain? Or have I somehow gotten used to this place after last time?
He remembered his first visit vividly—how his heart had hammered until it felt ready to burst, how fear had pounded in his veins. The memory still raised goosebumps on his arms.
Yet, so much had changed since then. He’d begun training in the “Wild Technique,” something he’d studied for years without much progress. After surviving his first encounter here, something about his training had shifted. It was like a hidden door had opened inside him.
He looked around at the bright, glowing threads and said quietly, “Okay, this is just wild. Someone told me the silk book—my special training manual—was impossible to master. Most of it was torn up or burned ages ago. Only about twenty pages survived, and they’re basically useless without a teacher. But hey, I never got a teacher, and I’m still moving forward somehow.”
He paused, puzzled and excited all at once. “So… is it this place?” he wondered aloud, sounding more like a curious, daring boy than a cautious adult. “I mean, what if to really learn the silk book’s techniques, you need, like, protection—or maybe some kind of special energy from a spot like this?” He shook his head, still not quite believing it. “I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty weird.”
Pressing on, Qin Ming touched a cluster of thicker, golden threads. He didn’t feel any pain, just a gentle warmth, and soon he found purple, glowing threads drifting upward like mist, slipping right through the rock as if the stone wasn’t even there. The sight was almost magical, and Qin Ming let out a low whistle of amazement.
…
Outside, in the dense forest at the foot of the mountain, a crow with piercing purple eyes flitted between branches. Suddenly, a thick cloud of black fog rose up ahead, blocking its way. The crow’s eyes glowed with strange patterns as it called out, “Who’s there?”
A shape began to emerge behind the swirling fog: a massive owl, nearly as tall as a human, perched on a mossy branch. The owl had a curious book of beast hide tucked neatly under one wing.
“Long time, no see,” the owl said smoothly, as if greeting an old acquaintance. “Fancy a drink?” The black fog didn’t budge; it hung thickly in the air.
“I’m on patrol,” the crow said warily, clearly on edge. It gave off a sense that it did not trust the owl one bit.
“Patrolling, huh?” The owl chuckled, unimpressed. “A grand job for someone like you. You’re not even in your own territory. Look at you—working as some old man’s guard.” The owl flapped its wings lazily, stirring the dark fog into thicker swirls.
“Old Cat, don’t mess with me,” the crow snapped. “I’m keeping an eye on a promising kid. Don’t get in my way.” Its tone was sharp, as though it didn’t have time for this nonsense.
The owl tilted its head. “Not heading back to the Black Mist Wilds, are you? With your noble bloodline, working for humans—don’t you think you’re lowering yourself?”
The crow gave a short, bitter laugh. “Yeah, and why not? I’ve got talent. There’s someone near the Forbidden Mountain who changed shape—became something different. If they can do it, why can’t I?”
“Rubbish,” hissed the owl. “You want to become human? You, a noble bird, cozying up to humans! If you keep this up, I’ll strip every last feather off your back.”
Their voices rose as they argued. The crow tried to push past, hissing, “Move it! If that kid runs into trouble, I’ll have a mess on my wings. I need him for something… something important in the human world. So step aside!”
Just then, a tiny sparrow darted through the fog, flapping its wings as fast as it could. “Master Crow!” it cried. “There’s big trouble! Everyone’s dead!”
The crow burst clear of the fog, feathers ruffled. “What are you talking about?”
“I did what you asked,” the sparrow said, voice trembling. “But this huge bear showed up with a bunch of humans. I tried to get away. When I came back, everyone was dead. Blood everywhere—but I don’t know who or what did it!”
The crow followed the sparrow to the grisly scene, narrowing its bright eyes to pick up faint traces of life and death. After a quiet moment, it muttered, “Qi Huai En is gone. But there’s no sign of the boy. Did someone else kill Qi Huai En, or did he lose to that kid somehow?”
With a flick of its wing, the crow dismissed the sparrow. “If that boy’s that tough, maybe he doesn’t need to go to Flowing Light City at all,” it said, deep in thought. Without another word, it flew away, feathers blending into the shadows of the forest.
…
In a snowy woodland, You Liang Yun stood before a woman cloaked in black furs, reporting what had happened. “Qi Huai En tested Qin Ming and said the boy’s still not ready,” he told her. “The mountain’s in chaos. There was a nasty fight in the forest before I left…”
Suddenly, the purple-eyed crow arrived, landing lightly on a low branch. “Qi Huai En tried to save someone,” the crow said, “but he ended up dead himself. Sad story.”
The woman in the black fur cloak eyed You Liang Yun. “You stay here,” she ordered.
You Liang Yun blinked, surprised, then bowed quickly. A spark of excitement lit his eyes.
…
High in the mountains, where a five-colored mist had once soared into the night sky, a pair of figures stood up, pushing aside their empty wine cups. They were Ling Xu and Wei Mo, two who had played their parts well.
Ling Xu shook out one of his boots and deliberately tore it. He then smacked his own chest, ripping his white robe so that he looked battered and bruised. His tall, lean body gleamed with a faint golden sheen in the low light, muscles tense and ready.
Wei Mo snorted with laughter. “The elegant Lord Ling, all scuffed up and tattered? People will gossip, you know.”
Still, Wei Mo followed suit, removing parts of his armor and stashing them under his cloak so he too looked as though he’d been through a fierce struggle.
Nearby, a tabby cat pinned down a black mountain cat, using its blood to smear itself and scattering sparkling dust here and there.
These high-level schemers—from Red Glow City and other hidden places—had joined forces to keep outsiders from uncovering the treasures hidden inside the mountain’s secret nodes. They staged fights and set up traps, making it seem like real battles were raging. They pretended to struggle and suffer injuries. Of course, not everyone was faking it. Some truly fought dangerous opponents. The old weasel had gone off to face a real enemy, and the mysterious mountain lord had moved toward the center of the battlefield.
The trick worked. Several experts had died or were too wounded to push further. The path to the node seemed blocked, and no one dared rush in blindly.
…
Deep underground, Qin Ming practiced the moves from the silk book. Everything felt right—so natural, as if the energy in the cave danced in time with his breathing. Warm currents seemed to run through his body, making him stronger and more confident. He couldn’t help but wonder, “Is the silk book’s real power linked to a place like this? Maybe this is the secret no one else ever found out.”
No one was around to give him answers. His ancestors, his potential teachers, anyone who might have known the silk book’s truths—long gone. All he had were these tattered pages and his own wits.
Just then, the ground shook violently, almost knocking him over.
Outside, where the five-colored mist was fading, the powerful beings—human and otherwise—were still licking their wounds and glaring at each other. But none dared move closer to the node yet.
All at once, the light from the node vanished, and in the distance, a new five-colored mist burst into the sky, brighter and more dazzling than before.
“Another one?” someone gasped.
“Wait! The rare resources are moving!” cried another voice. “They’re shifting through the spiritual earth vein, heading somewhere else!”
Ling Xu, the old weasel, and the rest who had been putting on a grand show dropped their acts, eyes widening. This wasn’t part of the plan. A real five-colored mist had appeared—this time, for real.
With a thunderous roar, the entire mountain range trembled. Blinding beams of light shot through the darkness, so brilliant they made the night sky glow as if it were day.
“Ten colors?” someone shouted, half in awe, half in disbelief. “Those pillars of light… What kind of treasure could cause something like this?”
Even the strongest, most cunning experts were struck dumb, their minds racing. This was beyond anything they’d imagined. All at once, injured or not, they bolted towards this new wonder, leaving the old five-colored mist behind without a second glance. Every eye was now fixed on that radiant, ten-colored light.