Chapter 55: Another Life
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
“All things carry yin and embrace yang, rushing together to create harmony. Cui Chong He,” Qin Ming murmured, his voice heavy with thought. Picking up a cup of tea, he dipped his finger into it and began tracing two characters on the table: “Qin Ming.”
Amid the blurred, fragmented memories swimming in his mind, one name surfaced with surprising clarity—Cui Chong He.
“Why do I find myself in this distant land, clinging to the name Qin Ming?” His eyes lingered on the characters he had written, the strokes of his handwriting trembling with uncertainty. “Which part of my life is real, and which is merely an illusion?”
He looked down at his tattered robes, stained with blood, his appearance that of a man who had barely escaped with his life. Yet through it all, the name Qin Ming had stayed with him. Now, though, something else began to take shape in his mind: the hazy recollection of another existence entirely.
Qin Ming closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The rich, fragrant scent of the swirling mist from the three-colored flower filled the air, its intoxicating aroma tugging at his memories. As the mist thickened, vivid scenes began to emerge.
In his mind, he saw a group of elegantly dressed individuals. Their robes shimmered like jewels, and the jade ornaments they wore gleamed in the light. All eyes were fixed on a boy, his face youthful and unlined, still carrying traces of boyhood.
Before the boy stood a jade table. On it lay a three-colored flower and a vial of vibrant, life-filled elixir.
“Who are these people?” Qin Ming wondered aloud. “And who is that boy?” The faces seemed familiar yet maddeningly elusive, like reflections in a rippling pond.
His memories drifted further. When he had first awoken in this remote land, he only remembered his name: Qin Ming. But with each Awakening, fragments of a deeper past began to surface. He recalled a silk-bound manual and the faint, comforting presence of his grandfather.
“I was there,” Qin Ming realized, his voice trembling with certainty. “I was present, though at a distance, quietly watching as the boy consumed the three-colored flower and drank the potent elixir.”
The boy’s surroundings were filled with people, men and women of all ages, each radiating importance. Some of the women wore elaborate hairpieces, their flowing plumage shimmering like violet mist. One adorned her hair with a delicate blossom, its petals glowing faintly with the fiery hues of dawn.
The boy appeared no older than thirteen or fourteen, an age too young to step into the prime of Awakening. He had neither reached the golden years of strength nor embarked on the path of the Giant Spirits. Yet here he was, boldly treading a road most would never dare to take.
“Could this be the power of a truly elite family?” Qin Ming’s thoughts swirled with wonder. “To do what others cannot, defying all common limits?”
He glanced down at the jade box he carried. Inside was his own three-colored flower, nurtured by celestial light until it had reached unparalleled quality. As he studied it, he couldn’t help but compare it to the flower from his memories. Remarkably, they seemed to match in excellence.
Qin Ming plucked a petal from the flower, its crystalline surface gleaming under the light, and placed it in his mouth. A fiery sensation exploded across his tongue, spreading quickly through his body like a blaze consuming dry grass.
Pain surged, but he bore it calmly, continuing to pluck petal after petal and swallowing them. Each bite intensified the heat, his stomach churning as the celestial energy burned within him, threatening to overwhelm his flesh and bones.
Even as the pain radiated through his body, Qin Ming remained composed. He crushed the flower’s leaves and stem, chewing them slowly before swallowing. The intense reaction in his body reached a crescendo as two opposing celestial forces collided within him. One emanated from the ethereal light of the heavens, piercing through the night to illuminate sacred mountains. The other arose from within him, an innate energy born of his very being.
“It hurts,” he admitted softly, though he never faltered.
The two energies churned and twisted, spiraling in relentless conflict until they began to merge. Slowly, they formed a unified whole, a radiant sphere of power that pulsed deep in his core. In a sudden burst, the sphere unleashed its energy, surging through his limbs and purifying every fiber of his being.
Qin Ming’s body began to glow. His blood and spirit seemed to hum in unison, his very essence radiating newfound strength. Stepping into the courtyard, he tested his abilities, unleashing a series of celestial light techniques. Each strike blazed brighter, carried more power than before.
“Fusion,” he murmured, pulling the celestial energies back into himself, harmonizing them into one.
As he stood there, his mind wandered once more to the scenes of his memories. He saw the boy again—Cui Chong Xuan. Around him stood those same finely dressed men and women.
“Incredible,” an elderly man with snow-white hair exclaimed, his face glowing with youthful vigor. “After three Awakenings, he’s managed to fuse four celestial light techniques. Remarkable!”
A regal woman, no older than thirty, dressed in a flowing palace gown, nodded in agreement. Her hair was adorned with a golden feather that shimmered like molten sunlight. “Each technique may seem ordinary on its own, but together they form the foundation for a path to the heavens. This is only the beginning of what he can achieve.”
The boy, Cui Chong Xuan, stood trembling, sweat dripping from his brow. Yet his determination shone through as he endured, completing the fusion of the celestial techniques.
The elderly man’s voice rang out again, filled with approval. “Though you haven’t yet stepped onto the path of the Outer Realm, your progress on this road is nothing short of extraordinary. If word were to spread, it would cause an uproar.”
A stern-looking middle-aged man, exuding authority, stepped forward. “Who is to say this path cannot lead to the highest heights? I’ve secured the priceless manual, the Six Imperial Heart Sutra, for you. Do not squander this opportunity.”
Qin Ming watched silently, an observer standing far beyond the circle of people.
As the memory faded, he found himself questioning everything.
“Why does it feel as though I’ve lived a false life?” he whispered. “Am I truly Qin Ming, or am I Cui Chong He?”
Qin Ming sat in quiet contemplation, staring at the worn surface of the grinding stone. He couldn’t shake a strange feeling—as if Cui Chong He’s life was but a fleeting illusion. The thought nagged at him, deep and persistent. Why had he forgotten so much? It wasn’t just a vague memory; it felt like a deliberate void. His childhood, with all its innocent wonders, seemed etched more vividly than that peculiar stretch of life.
Shaking off the thoughts, Qin Ming focused on the sensation coursing through his body. He had done it: he’d unified all the Celestial Light Forces he had mastered into one harmonious flow. The result was extraordinary. His body thrummed with vitality, an untamed surge of energy bolstering his spirit and form. For the first time, Qin Ming dared to think he might not need spiritual materials for his next awakening. Perhaps he could ascend to a higher plane of existence with this alone.
“Three-time awakeners think they’re remarkable for merging four Celestial Light Forces?” he muttered, scoffing at the thought. “I’ve fused five.” And not just any five—two of them, Intercepting Force and Sharp Force, were far beyond their basic forms.
For a fleeting moment, Qin Ming allowed himself pride. Yet a cloud of uncertainty loomed. The fragmented memories tugged at him, growing clearer with every passing day. He suspected the truth would reveal itself with his next awakening, but when?
Turning his attention back to the grinding stone, Qin Ming tested his power again. This time, he didn’t even use his fingers. With a faint glow of Celestial Light Force radiating from his hand, he swept his palm’s back across the stone. A jagged piece of rock the size of his hand broke off, crumbling to the ground.
“Sorry, old millstone,” he said with a sheepish grin. In the past two days, despite trying to restrain his strength, he’d turned the once-smooth stone into a pitted mess. “Looks like I’m really getting stronger.”
But his optimism quickly dampened. He couldn’t forget the harrowing moment just before dusk the previous day. An outsider—a man who could dissolve into mist, turn invisible, and take flight—had nearly ended him. If not for the White Jade Alloy Blade, Qin Ming might not have survived.
“I’ve been following the guidance of the old methods,” he muttered, brow furrowed. “Fusing all these Celestial Light Forces… But can the methods in the silk script really counter someone like that?” He wasn’t sure. For now, all he could do was press on, growing stronger in preparation for what lay ahead.
As the shallow night’s twilight ebbed, Old Liu returned. The elder’s thin frame moved deliberately, his face betraying no urgency despite the fifteen Daylight Gold coins he had just spent. He’d lingered long enough to mooch a meal from Old Wu, not leaving until the night deepened.
“Old Liu,” Qin Ming called, catching the man before he vanished into his quarters. “Where in these mountains can someone find the kind of spiritual material needed for a fourth awakening?”
Old Liu’s face turned pale. He waved his hands frantically. “Don’t even think about it! Any creature that’s undergone a fourth mutation is not to be trifled with. Most of them have histories—they’re on the radar of the high-level aberrations in the mountains. Kill one, and you’ll have a much bigger problem on your hands.”
Qin Ming nodded slowly. His mind was made up. It was time to leave this place.
Farther in the mountains, near the Great Canyon, two bandit leaders stood in hushed conversation. They were uneasy. The young man who could dissolve into mist hadn’t returned. Had something happened to him?
The consequences could be dire. If word of what he had done spread, they too would be implicated. To make matters worse, they’d already dispatched their predatory bird to send a message for guidance.
Finally, under the heavy night sky, the bird returned. One of the bandits unfolded the reply, scanning the letter by the dim light of a lantern.
“The elder says to wait one more day,” he said. “If he doesn’t show up by then, we forget about him. Pretend none of this ever happened.”
His companion frowned. “What about our theory that he’s imitating the mountain beasts’ mourning rituals? Offering sacrifices? Did the elder say anything about that?”
The first bandit nodded. “He said it’s possible he’s not just an outsider, but a ‘beast beyond the boundaries.’”
“Beast?” The second bandit looked confused. “Wasn’t he an outsider? How did he become a beast?”
The two huddled closer, re-reading the letter. Their expressions shifted from surprise to understanding. Beasts entering forbidden lands near the abyss often returned as something… other. Likewise, humans venturing into the depths could transform into aberrations. Some even rose to positions of power, ruling grand cities, while others transcended all norms to become boundary beasts.
“According to the elder, anything is possible in this world,” the first bandit said. “But he’s confident that this guy, beast or not, won’t succeed in his ritual. That burial site he’s after? It’s long buried beneath Black and White Mountain. Let him kneel all he wants; it’s none of our concern.”
The next morning, the two bandit leaders gathered their men and left Golden Rooster Ridge. Before leaving, however, two Golden Rooster Knights made rounds in the nearby villages, issuing their demands.
“Each household must pay one Night Silver coin,” they announced. “We’ll collect it by mid-month.”
The villagers grumbled angrily. “So, it’s true,” an elder muttered under his breath. “These bandits are making us pay for their battles.”
The people had seen it coming. When Golden Rooster Ridge began forcibly recruiting awakeners, they knew the cost would fall on them. Still, with winter biting hard, the demand was too much. Anger simmered, and some were ready to fight back.
Qin Ming overheard the commotion from his small dwelling. His patience was at its limit. He glanced out the window, watching the villagers argue among themselves. His decision was clear. It was time to set things in order. The bandits had gone too far, and Qin Ming was ready to strike.