Chapter 13: When the Blood Runs Dry
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
By the time Xu Yue Ping and Qin Ming finally left Silver Vine Town behind, the older man had gone completely silent, his mood as heavy as the falling snow. Then, without warning, Xu Yue Ping veered off the main path, striding deep into the dim forest until he stopped before a tall tree. He punched the trunk so hard that clumps of snow tumbled from the branches, swirling in the air like startled doves. The forest suddenly seemed colder and quieter, as if even the trees were holding their breath.
He stood there panting, his cheeks flushed and his knuckles pressed against the rough bark. His voice trembled with simmering fury. “If I didn’t have my family, or if I were twenty years younger, I’d fight Feng Yi An this very day, even if it meant I’d never see tomorrow!” His breath hissed through gritted teeth. The sting of humiliation still burned hot on his face, a memory of someone’s mocking hand. He had suffered through life’s hardships and swallowed his pride more times than he cared to remember, but this one… this one was bitter as ash.
Yet he had no choice. He was older now. He had people depending on him. If pride was a meal he hated, he still had to choke it down to survive. “Life’s worn down my spirit,” he muttered, each word like a stone he spat out into the silence.
Qin Ming stood a few steps behind, unsure how to break the tension. He, too, felt that knot of frustration twisting inside him, but he held it down. Stepping forward, he spoke softly, trying to sound calm and steady, like a younger brother hoping to soothe a wounded elder. “Uncle Xu, don’t let it eat at you too much, okay?” Qin Ming said, trying for a laid-back, teenage tone. “People like Feng Yi An… they’ll get what they deserve, sooner or later. Just wait and see.”
Xu Yue Ping breathed out hard, releasing some of his anger into the cold air. He glanced back at Qin Ming, nodded stiffly, and said, “Yeah. Let’s head home.” The words came out quieter now, as if he’d realized there was nothing else to do.
They began the long walk back. Snow drifted lazily from the sky, making the world feel hushed and uncertain. Qin Ming tried to keep things from feeling too grim. Every so often, he said something—anything—to keep them both from drowning in their own thoughts.
He looked up at the snowy branches and asked, “Hey, Uncle Xu, why haven’t they started the mountain sweep yet?”
Xu Yue Ping’s brows drew together, his frustration returning. “They’re still stuck bargaining with those strange creatures deep in the Great Mountain. On top of that, I heard the Mountain Patrol is mixing up some kind of ‘catalyst solution.’ They’ll bring it to Twin Trees Village in three days and pour it into the Fire Spring.”
Qin Ming scowled, his stomach knotting. He could guess what this meant. The solution might help the Black Moon plant sprout, but it’d wreck the Fire Field. It was like swapping one problem for a dozen worse ones.
“Did the other villages agree to that?” he asked, voice low.
Xu Yue Ping sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of it all. “At first, three villages refused. They know something’s off with the seeds. The Fire Field’s yield has been getting worse year after year. But in the end, they all gave in—except for Green Mulberry Village. They’ve got a strong fighter backing them up, keeping the Mountain Patrol from forcing their hand.”
Qin Ming tilted his head, looking up at the starry sky. The middle of the month was almost here. He knew that the Mountain Patrol always gathered in these mountains around mid-month and again at the end. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, and none of them looked good.
Suddenly, a massive bull charged into view at a crossroads up ahead. It had blazing red fur and stood taller than any man Qin Ming had ever seen. Even stranger, it had a third horn sticking out from its forehead—long and straight, like a sword. Qin Ming’s eyes went wide.
“Whoa, Uncle Xu, check it out!” he said, voice cracking with surprise. “That bull’s huge. Seriously huge!”
A towering man rode on the beast’s back. He had to be over three meters tall if he stood up, and his long black hair fell around his shoulders. He barely glanced at them as he passed, the bull’s heavy steps sending snow flying in all directions.
Xu Yue Ping narrowed his eyes. “He’s… not following the usual path,” he said, thinking aloud.
Qin Ming scratched the back of his neck. “Could he have awakened too early or something?” he asked, sounding curious. “I heard that kind of messes up your growth.”
Everyone knew that the best time to awaken—when a person’s body and spirit were strengthened—was around fifteen or sixteen. Any earlier and your growth might get twisted, making you grow too fast or in strange ways. Some people ended up giant-sized, but their bodies often burned out fast, like candles with double wicks.
Xu Yue Ping nodded. “Only powerful families can support those who awaken early and then help them survive. Some giants live on, becoming incredibly strong—like ‘Giant Spirit Gods’ who can crush a dozen normal fighters. But most families can’t afford to take that kind of risk.”
Qin Ming thought about it, then asked quietly, “So… do you think he came from Red Glow City?”
The older man shot Qin Ming a worried glance. “Don’t go getting ideas, Qin,” he warned, his voice stern. “You’re not planning on getting mixed up with those types, are you?”
Qin Ming held up his hands defensively. “No way, Uncle Xu. Relax,” he said with a shrug, trying to sound more like a teen reassuring a nervous parent. “I’m just a newbie. I wouldn’t stand a chance against someone who’s had a second awakening.”
Xu Yue Ping’s face eased a bit, though he stayed serious. “Good. After the first awakening, you’re stronger, sure—but it’s the second that makes you really dangerous, with speed and stamina to spare.”
They pressed onward, taking several winding detours through the forest. They didn’t want to return home empty-handed, not with the village families growing desperate for food. The snow muffled their footsteps, and the silence was broken only by their breathing and the crunch of ice beneath their boots.
Then, as if the world wanted to prove them wrong about going quietly, a mutated spike leopard sprang out of the shadows, black against white. It hurtled straight toward Xu Yue Ping, claws slashing through the frigid air. Without thinking, Qin Ming lunged forward, blocking the beast from tearing into his uncle.
Xu Yue Ping stumbled back, chest heaving. “That was too close,” he managed, voice shaky. “Even I almost got hurt. The wild creatures are restless. We really need that mountain sweep.”
It took all their strength to drag the heavy spike leopard’s carcass back to the village. The creature weighed at least four hundred fifty pounds, its black spikes deadly sharp. But they did it. That meant meat for the hungry villagers, something to fill their bellies on cold nights.
When they finally set foot in Twin Trees Village, Qin Ming felt the gloom straight away. Usually, children played in the snow, laughing and shouting. But now their voices had fallen silent, replaced by worried whispers. Xu Yue Ping divided the leopard meat fairly and then headed home, shoulders slumped with exhaustion.
Qin Ming lingered by the Fire Spring, looking out into the distant wilderness. The mountains were silhouettes now, ink-black against a dark sky. In three days, that wretched catalyst solution would be poured into the Fire Spring, and no one would be able to stop it. They were being cornered, and it left a sour taste in Qin Ming’s mouth.
He turned and stepped towards the forest. “I’ll just go have a look around,” he thought, as if saying it aloud would make it seem less risky. He had no wild plan—yet. But he needed to know what they were up against. He whispered to himself, voice tight, “They’re pushing us so hard. Do they even care if people starve next year?”
This time, he didn’t bring his usual hunting fork. He had awakened now, and he felt stronger than before. He carried only a bow and a chopping knife, wanting to move fast and light through the snow-covered woods.
He knew where the Mountain Patrol set up their base, and he made for that spot. Soon, he spotted firelight flickering in a clearing below. Simple wooden huts were clustered together, shadows moving inside them. He recognized figures: Fu En Tao and Feng Yi An, drifting in and out of the huts, their silhouettes sharp against the glowing flames.
A golden mastiff prowled around, sniffing the air, guarding the area. Qin Ming crouched in the darkness, silently observing. He watched every movement for a long time, forcing himself to be patient before slipping back into the forest’s embrace.
By the time he returned to Twin Trees Village, the lanterns glimmered at the entrance like lonely stars. Everything looked peaceful at first glance, but as he passed through, he heard crying.
“Old Qian’s gone,” someone said outside a small home, voice choked with grief. A handful of villagers gathered, their eyes downcast. “That snow ape nearly killed him. He hung on this long, but… he just couldn’t pull through.”
Old Qian was the third villager to die since this whole mess began. Qin Ming felt his stomach twist. It was one life after another, slipping away like candles guttering out in the cold.
The next day, Old Qian’s funeral took place. Just as the villagers gathered, the Mountain Patrol turned up, as if on cue. Feng Yi An carried a deer, offering it with a showy flourish to Qian’s family as if a dead animal could make up for the loss of a human life. Even Old Man Liu, oldest in the village, turned away in disgust.
Qin Ming stood quietly on the sidelines, fists clenched. A deer for a life—how pathetic. He hated how they tried to pretend kindness now.
Later, the patrol approached Xu Yue Ping, insisting on checking the Black Moon seeds again. Feng Yi An patted Xu Yue Ping’s shoulder, smiling that hollow smile that never reached his eyes. Xu Yue Ping’s face stayed blank, but Qin Ming knew the older man’s heart was smoldering with fury. The humiliation, the helplessness, it all seethed just beneath the surface.
Shao Cheng Feng, a member of the patrol, sauntered over to Qin Ming with a grin. “Heard you’ve got the Golden Foundation now,” he said, sizing the teenager up. “When the mountain sweep starts, you should join us. Come on, man, team up and look like a hero.”
Qin Ming snorted softly, crossing his arms. “No thanks,” he said flatly, voice cool but still that of a teenager who wasn’t going to fall for cheap flattery. “I’m not interested.”
Shao Cheng Feng’s smile faded, and moments later, the patrol left. Qin Ming overheard one of them muttering, “No need to bother. He hates us anyway. We can deal with him once the sweep starts.”
That evening, Qin Ming sat in his courtyard, slowly sharpening his chopping knife. His face looked calm, almost too calm, but inside him there was a burning resolve that wouldn’t be easily put out.