Chapter 66: From Now On, I Live for Myself
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming’s head throbbed painfully as if a dull axe was chopping at it again and again. His vision blurred, his thoughts were all over the place, and he felt like he was going to pass out. He tried to breathe deeply, but it was no use—he couldn’t control his own body. His steps were shaky, his emotions burning like a raging fire inside him.
“Why are they doing this to me?” he whispered through the pain. He had imagined many scenarios, but he never thought it would be his own parents who ordered Cui Hong to do this to him.
It felt like his very soul was being torn apart bit by bit. His body trembled, and the pain was worse than when that feathered boy had shattered his arm and cracked his skull with a glowing purple bamboo rod.
Qin Ming stumbled back, broken fragments of memory flashing through his mind. No wonder that during his third awakening, he’d dipped his finger in rough tea and written a single word on the table: “Abandon.”
Now he remembered more. Before the feathered boy had found him, back when he lived in that quiet village, he had already written the word “abandon” silently that night. And when the village was destroyed in a fire, attacked by countless fighters with their battle cries echoing through the night, he had stayed silent. Even when faced with life and death, he’d watched everything calmly, without saying a word.
“Did I already lose the will to speak back then? Was I expecting this all along—was it utter disappointment, maybe even sorrow and regret?” Qin Ming stood alone in the barren desert, enduring the pounding in his head. It felt like he was tearing open an old scar, reliving the torment.
He could see it clearly now. Even as the flames threatened to swallow him, his expression hadn’t changed. He had looked to the sky, calm, almost relieved, as if finally letting everything go.
“Did I feel some kind of release in that moment? I’d thought about it before—when it really happened, I was ready to face it peacefully.”
Standing there in the desert, Qin Ming’s eyes turned red. He stared at his past self, overwhelmed by emotions of unwillingness, anger, and frustration. These feelings rose from deep within his heart.
“Young master, Chong He, are you alright?” Cui Hong, watching him, couldn’t stand it any longer and started to step forward.
“Stay back!” Qin Ming snapped, his voice low.
His vision filled with the memory of endless flames, and the beam of the burning house that had almost crushed him. Back then, he simply hadn’t cared whether he lived or died.
Two years ago, in that final sigh, he had seemed to let everything go in silence—but now, he wasn’t ready to let go. He wanted to fight back.
“I lost so many memories because that feathered boy beat me nearly to death… Is that why I can’t let go of those days now? Because I don’t understand why, in the end, I felt at peace that night?”
Qin Ming stood there, fighting the pain as he tried to recall the past. Shattered images appeared again, like sharp knives, tearing through his mind mercilessly, trying to rip him apart.
It was another night. He saw many people.
This must have been earlier—before he met the feathered boy. He was surrounded by a crowd, splitting off from the Cui family.
Opposite him stood a middle-aged man and woman, watching as he climbed into a bronze carriage engraved with swirling clouds.
The man remained silent, his gaze sharp, almost piercing into Qin Ming’s heart. His face was stern and dignified.
The woman, who looked just over thirty, was dressed in lavish robes, her hair pinned with a golden feather hairpin. Her delicate face was cold as she looked at Qin Ming.
There were many elders nearby, each radiating a powerful presence. They all kept their distance from the two as if intimidated by them.
Qin Ming glanced back, seeing only their retreating figures. They had already turned and left. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Even though the memory was vague, Qin Ming could clearly feel his emotions back then—a fierce longing, as if he was facing a final farewell. There had been reluctance, deep sorrow, and even a hint of resentment.
“Chong He, are you alright?” Cui Hong asked, worry in his voice.
Qin Ming turned to him. “My life now is actually quite good. It would be even better without all of you showing up again.”
The pain in his head had eased a bit. When he wiped his face, he realized there were tears. He hadn’t noticed when they fell, but they made him angry. He wiped them away roughly.
Tears? They were worthless to him now. His past was something he’d left behind, something to be abandoned. What was there to cry about?
With his face expressionless, Qin Ming said, “I always thought I’d done something wrong back then. But now I finally see—I didn’t owe any of you anything. I never betrayed the Cui family. But you… you’ve come after me again. What do you want from me?”
Cui Hong replied, “I’m here for two reasons. One, to get the Yin-Yang elixir. And two, for your sake—to arrange a place for you to stay. You’ll have protection, and you won’t need to venture out into the world.”
“You think you can decide my future with just a few words?!” Qin Ming’s eyes blazed, turning red. He had been through so much—broken, covered in blood, almost freezing to death in the wilderness. If the people of Twin Trees Village hadn’t found him, he would’ve died there.
Now, they wanted to control his life again—just like that? Everything he had achieved was earned by risking his life in the mountains—the Cui family hadn’t given him anything.
Cui Hong fell silent, guilt and regret flashing across his face. But this was his duty—how could he return without fulfilling it?
A long time passed before he spoke again, “Chong He, I think you’ve switched to one of the local awakening methods, right? The technique in the scroll—without a guide, you couldn’t practice it properly. But these local methods aren’t that great. Even if you work incredibly hard, you’ll just become some minor big shot in a backwater. If you go out into the world, you’ll be nothing compared to the real warriors. It’s better to give up now, stay here, and live a safe, comfortable life—we’ll protect and provide for you. What’s so bad about that?”
Anger boiled up inside Qin Ming. His path, his life—why did someone else get to decide that?
He asked, “So if I choose to pursue awakening—whether by the scroll’s method or any other—you’ll be ordered to stop me, even to hurt me, is that right?”
Cui Hong remained silent.
“This was my parents’ decision…” Qin Ming stared into the dark desert, feeling a sense of powerlessness amid his rage. All the hardship he’d faced—even death—hadn’t scared him. But betrayal by those he called family—that had hurt him most.
The broken memories were incomplete, but the word he’d written—abandon—gave him some understanding. Abandoned, a pawn, whatever the term—it made him feel suffocated. He could tell he’d never wronged the Cui family. He had given his all, risked his life, survived—only to be abandoned here.
In his vision, fire blazed, and blurred scenes flashed. He became more convinced that many in the Cui family had known exactly what would happen that night.
“Were they really just using me as a scapegoat?”
But even now, after everything he’d been through, why did his parents still treat him like this?
Everything that once seemed fake now felt real. In the past, he’d been utterly desperate—he’d felt life was just an illusion, his faith shattered.
Cui Hong stepped forward, ready to act, though regret filled his heart.
“Can you at least tell me about everything I’ve been through?” Qin Ming spoke up suddenly, pointing at his head. “You must’ve seen that night with your own eyes. My skull was shattered in three places—I’ve forgotten so much. If you have to do this, at least let me go understanding everything.”
“What?” Cui Hong’s face changed, shocked and guilty. “I didn’t know you’d lost your memory. That’s our fault—we should’ve gotten there sooner. I’m sorry, young master… Chong He.”
His emotions surged. “Chong He, I didn’t come here to kill you—just to end your path to awakening. No one will target you again after this—you can stay here, marry, have children… live without conflict.”
“How is that different from killing me?! I want to walk the path of awakening—that’s the future I’ve chosen for myself! What right do you have to take that away?!” Qin Ming shouted. “I’ve forgotten nearly everything—only fragments remain—so what are you so worried about?”
“What?!” A startled voice came from the desert’s edge. Li Qing Yue, dressed in a feathered robe, appeared on the narrow path, along with her maid, two golden-armored men, and the new lord of Scarlet Dawn City, Meng Xing Hai.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
The desert was silent.
Cui Hong didn’t back away, looking at the young man in front of him.
Qin Ming realized that Cui Hong was going to act. He said, “Even ordinary folks—my neighbors—a humble couple could take such good care of their children. Their home was filled with love—they’d risk their lives to protect them. And yet, the great Cui family? I want nothing more to do with you. Consider me abandoned.”
In that moment, Qin Ming heard a voice deep inside—a sigh, telling him it was all over. They were his parents—it was time to let go. He should’ve just walked away.
But he shook his head. He couldn’t stay calm about this.
“I already died once. From now on, I am no longer Cui Chong He. The one standing here is Qin Ming—from now on, I live for myself!” Qin Ming shouted into the barren wilderness.