Chapter 37: The Great Outburst
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming knew these snowy slopes and thick forests as well as he knew his own hands. He soon spotted a low heap of old stones, half-buried under a blanket of snow. Plucking a long, slender rock from the pile, he snapped it neatly in half. Then, quite casually, he tossed one broken piece back onto the pile. Slipping into the shelter of the tall pines, he seemed to vanish into the gloom.
“Bet I’m the only one curious enough to care about this rock,” he murmured to himself, a sly grin flickering across his face. “Those old guys never look twice. All they see is ‘useless stone skin’ or whatever. Boring.” He shrugged, shaking his head as he moved deeper into the forest shadows.
And truth be told, he wasn’t wrong. The Green-Clad Woman had pulled out something so dazzling that it had ignited the entire night sky. No one could possibly hide that kind of brilliance. Now all the top dogs and power-hungry groups were swarming after her, as if a new sun had risen in the darkness, leaving little scraps like Qin Ming’s stone piece completely ignored.
When a truly priceless treasure appears, who on earth would bother snatching up random leftovers?
Although the Green-Clad Woman had swiftly absorbed her mysterious find, a faint glow still shimmered at the center of her forehead, turning her into a glowing beacon beneath the starless sky.
Soon after, curious folk began gathering to poke at the leftover stone skins she had abandoned. This wasn’t the mountain’s secret heart—just its outskirts. No elite fighters or top-tier experts would bother showing up here. They were all off, racing toward the hidden places deep in the range, where legendary “nodes” were said to lie. Only a bunch of newly awakened people—six or seven in total—came scrambling to fight over the broken stone Qin Ming had left behind.
Hiding among the dark, silent trees, Qin Ming watched as they bickered and tussled. He kept his cool, though inside he felt a tiny thrill of excitement. He knew the piece he’d pocketed came from the mountain’s most mysterious material. Even leftovers from that strange and wonderful source might be something worth having.
Not long ago, a pillar of ten-colored light had flared into the heavens—far brighter than anything ever recorded in those dusty old books. And it had merged with a five-colored glow as well, creating a spectacular sight that would surely make the great clans and top experts who had failed to arrive on time want to bang their heads against the nearest wall.
Only two years ago, an agreement among the big powers had led everyone to decide that the light from this place was weak and worthless. They had judged this mountain—Black and White Mountain, they called it—a dud, without any true treasures. Yet now, against all odds, it had erupted in unimaginable glory. No one had seen this coming.
What’s more, there were whispers that it might have something to do with a strange glow that settled here two centuries ago. If those bigwigs in the capital heard the latest news, they’d probably spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling in disbelief and excitement, remembering how they once arrived here full of hopes and left practically empty-handed, furious enough to flatten the whole mountain in their rage.
By sunrise, the name “Black and White Mountain,” quiet for so many years, would surely spread like wildfire through every grand city hidden behind the midnight fog.
Standing in the midst of the thick forest, Qin Ming pressed the half-piece of stone he’d claimed between his palms. He crushed it gently and found nothing inside—just ordinary rock. He frowned, then studied the remaining half. The main treasure had caused so much commotion. Maybe this leftover chunk still held something interesting. Even if it didn’t create a brilliant spectacle, it could be dangerous or wild enough to raise eyebrows if it sparked some kind of “flowing fire” in the dark forest. Better to be careful than sorry.
After all, Qian Ye—the great event—had ended, and the night was now black as ink. Anything unusual would stand out a mile away. For the moment, Qin Ming decided to leave that second half of the stone hidden in the mountain. He took a deep breath, deciding he’d return later, once the frenzy had cooled. Let everyone else chase glowing prizes that dazzled the sky. He preferred a quiet, sensible approach.
High above, the Green-Clad Woman was still shining brightly, and every hunter with wings or swift feet was dashing after her. Some were so desperate they had shed blood, determined to seize a share of whatever she’d uncovered.
“C’mon, move faster!” shouted a woman in a heavy black fur cloak. She stood atop a huge raven-like bird, her tall figure blocking the snowfall. Her voice cut through the wind.
“Give me a break, Tang Jin!” squawked the Purple-Eyed Crow beneath her. “I’m already pushing myself like mad. That Golden Roc ahead’s the fastest bird in the sky. Just keeping up is a miracle!”
Its violet eyes glowed nervously. “That green lady’s absolutely ruthless! Didn’t you see how easily she shredded that top fighter just now?”
Tang Jin didn’t flinch. “Don’t lose your nerve. While she’s busy fighting, we need to close in!” With that, she pulled out a length of light-yellow rope that looked as ordinary as anything you’d use to tie up hay.
The Purple-Eyed Crow nearly choked. “Hey, that rope—wait, isn’t that the one from your teacher’s loft? The one that—”
“Not that one! Don’t be silly!” Tang Jin snapped, tightening her grip and urging the crow on.
Squawking in alarm, the crow beat its wings fiercely, speeding onward. Ahead of them, a Red Lightning Bird had managed to catch up to the Green-Clad Woman’s Golden Roc—but only for a moment. The poor creature was instantly struck down, its body wounded terribly.
In the swirling snows, the Green-Clad Woman stood tall atop the Golden Roc, her slender figure casting a strange spell. Suddenly, the drifting snowflakes turned bright gold and whirled around her a hundred times faster than before. Without moving a single finger, she sent the golden flakes cutting toward the Red Lightning Bird from every angle. Sharp as knives, they sliced through its protective aura, leaving it bleeding and frantic.
The Red Lightning Bird shrieked, igniting its scarlet feathers in a desperate blaze. It flared like a crimson star, its red light blasting out in all directions. The sudden glow melted the golden snow, turning it into glittering droplets that stretched out and intertwined, forming a dense web of razor-thin golden threads.
A terrible cry echoed as the Red Lightning Bird was carved into dozens of bloody pieces. Its meat and spirit-rich feathers scattered downward, falling through the dark sky to the cold ground far below.
The Purple-Eyed Crow’s beak hung open in horror, and if it hadn’t been for Tang Jin’s fierce command, it might have turned and fled at once. But Tang Jin did not hesitate. The ordinary-looking rope in her hand began to shine brilliantly. It stretched out toward the Green-Clad Woman with surprising speed.
“People from Flowing Light City?” the Green-Clad Woman called out when she recognized the rope’s brilliant glow. She narrowed her eyes, startled and angry.
“This better work!” the Purple-Eyed Crow muttered, flapping wildly.
“Straight at her!” shouted Tang Jin, voice sharp. “We have to get at least half of that heavenly treasure!” Her golden rope glimmered as it reached ever closer to the Green-Clad Woman.
That same night, Qin Ming slept soundly back in his small home. He had managed to claim a small prize for himself—nothing grand, but something. He had no intention of risking his neck for the greatest treasure. Some things were simply out of reach, and he was wise enough to accept that.
The next morning, Qin Ming returned to the mountain slopes with Mu Qing, Cao Long, and Wei Zhi Rou. The air was buzzing with talk, and he quickly picked up all sorts of incredible rumors.
“Unbelievable!” said Mu Qing, her eyes wide. “Last night, the whole sky lit up, and some of the strongest fighters from the biggest groups—high-level beings even—died trying to stop the Green-Clad Woman. People are saying they’ve never seen anything like it!”
Cao Long nodded. “Just think: if more experts could actually fly, it might’ve turned out differently. But no, hardly anyone had a swift enough mount. Terrible luck.”
Wei Zhi Rou grinned. “I heard that City Lord Ling was so furious he almost broke his own leg stomping around. He regrets not buying a top-notch flying creature ages ago. I guess he got so mad, he stormed back to Red Glow City without another word.”
Their chatter flew around camp like startled birds. Everyone going into the mountain now felt uneasy. Nobody wanted to become collateral damage in a battle they didn’t understand.
Even Old Weasel, usually calm as a pond, had apparently dashed through the forest on his donkey, leaving a trail of snapped branches behind him.
“Makes sense,” said Cao Long, perched on a huge bull. “If I’d lost out like that, I’d be furious too.”
“True that,” said a voice from above, surprising him. Cao Long looked up, startled. Who was talking?
A Talking Sparrow perched on a high branch winked at him. Furious, Cao Long hurled his spear, snapping the branch. The treetop crashed down, but the little sparrow fluttered away gracefully, leaving Cao Long fuming.
Old Man Liu chuckled. “Don’t let it rile you up. Come spring, when those sparrows are nesting, I’ll help you catch one. If I can’t snatch that cheeky bird, at least I’ll get its chicks.”
Cao Long grinned, slapping his thigh. “I’d love that! Imagine having my own Talking Sparrows—especially that mouthy one!”
The group spent a few moments laughing together. Before long, Old Man Liu grew thoughtful. “It’s true there aren’t many special nodes left,” he said lightly, “but there are still good spots hiding in these mountains—dangerous, yes, but promising. Are you lot brave enough?”
Cao Long’s eyes lit up. “Really? I thought every corner had been picked clean by the older pros. Are you sure something’s left in these outer areas?”
Mu Qing and Wei Zhi Rou exchanged interested looks. None of them planned to risk the mountain’s deepest reaches—too dangerous to venture where the truly powerful roamed. But if Old Man Liu knew safer, lesser-known places rich in treasure, they were all ears.
Old Man Liu patted his chest proudly. “I’ve known these mountains since I had more hair than teeth! There are caves and hidden pockets no one else can find. Trust me.”
Cao Long grinned. “If we score something good, you’ll get your fair share.”
Mu Qing and Wei Zhi Rou nodded, thankful for the guidance. Instead of blindly hunting special nodes, it was wiser to follow Old Man Liu to a place with known spiritual resources.
Qin Ming guessed exactly where Old Man Liu intended to lead them. A while back, over a jug of strong wine, Old Man Liu had told him about a place called the Fire Bat Cave. It lay underground, deep in twisting tunnels beneath the mountain. Inside, a fiery spring gave life to flocks of Fire Bats, including one that had undergone three mutations and grown dangerously strong.
The bats themselves didn’t carry spiritual materials, but their droppings fed a rare, bright red grass that could help a person reach a second awakening. It was a tricky place, yet rich in possibilities.
Qin Ming had once thought of sharing his leftover Fire Snake with Old Man Liu and Lu Ze. But he realized now that Old Man Liu had his own paths to success. The old fellow didn’t need Qin Ming’s help.
Their journey into the Fire Bat Cave proved bumpy but not disastrous. Some younger team members suffered minor wounds. Still, with Cao Long, Wei Zhi Rou, and Mu Qing in front, no one was in real danger. They plucked all the valuable red grass, leaving behind a few seeds to regrow. Old Man Liu gleefully clutched the three-inch-tall, fiery-red plants, brimming with bright energy.
Before Qian Ye had ended, Qin Ming had already come up with a plan. He secretly fed half of that odd stone to a wild bull he caught. After all, no one would suspect a simple hunted animal. He rejoined Cao Long and Mu Qing and headed back to the mountain’s edge with their spoils. With companions like these, leaving the mountain would be safe and simple. Nobody would waste time bothering them, now that everyone’s eyes were fixed on rarer, more brilliant treasures.
That evening, Qin Ming went straight home and didn’t even bother with supper. He settled down and finally took a careful look at the half-piece of stone he’d saved. He frowned, puzzled. Even when he first picked it up, it felt… off. He’d expected at least a spark of that strange energy he’d sensed before, but now there was nothing. It was dull and lifeless.
Ever since Qin Ming had survived that dangerous crevice and adapted to its strange energies, he’d gained a sort of sixth sense for materials touched by heavenly lights. Yet now, as he pressed the stone between his fingers, he found not a single hint of that magic spark.
He held his breath and began peeling off the outer layers of stone, going very slowly. If he felt even the tiniest flicker of energy, he would stop at once. But he didn’t. He kept prying the stone open and found nothing—no glow, no whisper of hidden power.
Then, just when his hopes sank, his fingertips brushed something hidden deep inside the rock. The stone’s heart revealed a mysterious shape. There was no bright gleam, no halo of heavenly light—yet something lay there.
“What is this thing?” he whispered, eyes widening as he leaned closer. For once, the calm and clever Qin Ming nearly jumped out of his chair in shock.