Chapter 5: A New Dawn
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
Qin Ming stood still for a moment, giving a serious nod. He knew what this meant—a “new beginning.” It wasn’t something to take lightly. It could change someone’s entire life, deciding the path they’d walk in the future.
At fifteen or sixteen, many thought of this as the perfect age for “awakening,” a time when one’s potential for transformation was at its highest. Missing this chance would be a big loss. But getting there wasn’t easy. In Twin Trees Village, the best among them only managed to awaken after turning twenty. Some didn’t achieve it until well past thirty. Out of the forty or so households, with over two hundred villagers, fewer than ten had truly achieved “awakening.”
“That sickly boy from the neighboring village managed it,” Lu Ze said, leaning back, “and he did it in his prime.”
Qin Ming thought of the boy they called “Sickly.” He remembered him well—a thin kid with a pale, almost ghostly face. His hair was thin and yellow, like dried straw. How could someone so weak-looking manage to “awaken” during the best years of his life?
“When did that happen?” Qin Ming asked, genuinely curious.
“Almost a month ago,” Lu Ze replied. “After his awakening, he stunned everyone by lifting a 400-pound black donkey in the village square. All that frailty? Gone.”
“That’s incredible,” Qin Ming said, still amazed. Many strong young men had tried and failed over and over, yet Sickly had succeeded in one go.
Lu Ze, who was quite strong himself, had his own thoughts on the matter. He was one of the strongest young men in the village, but at twenty-three, he still hadn’t awakened.
“They say it has to do with one of his relatives,” Lu Ze explained. “Some distant kin of his who had been away for years came back, took one look at him, and said he had potential. They said his health problems were because his body couldn’t hold in its essence, making him seem weak. But deep down, he had real potential. The relative gave him some kind of advanced breathing technique and told him to practice it. The results were pretty dramatic.”
Qin Ming listened carefully, realizing how unpredictable life could be.
“Later on,” Lu Ze continued, “that same relative said Sickly’s ‘foundation’ was even stronger than they first thought. He might really go far.”
“We don’t have any fancy breathing techniques, but we’ve got some solid methods. Little Qin Ming, maybe you should switch up your training style,” Lu Ze suggested, giving him a thoughtful look.
To Lu Ze, Qin Ming’s strength was something special—better even than his own. But despite having such good conditions, Qin Ming still hadn’t awakened. It had to be the way he was training. His method of hardening his body didn’t seem to nurture the kind of power needed for awakening.
Qin Ming was already sixteen. If he kept going like this, he’d miss his golden opportunity.
Liang Wan Qing chimed in, “Little Qin Ming, why not train with your Brother Lu’s ‘Midnight Meditation Technique’?”
In a world forever shrouded in night, filled with dangers, many places offered basic manuals to help people build strength and defend themselves. These were hardly advanced techniques, nowhere near the rare, secret books the elites guarded closely.
Qin Ming wasn’t stubborn. He knew they were looking out for him. He nodded, “Alright, I’ll give it a real shot from now on.”
Lu Ze sighed quietly, thinking that Qin Ming’s odd training methods might have been holding him back. Even the basic “Midnight Meditation Technique” he practiced would be better. But now, even if Qin Ming switched, it might be too late. Only a high-level breathing technique could probably help him now.
Lu Ze sighed again. “Even a mid-level manual would be helpful. It’d be such a waste to miss this chance.”
Books that could help with “awakening” were rare around here, like “The Guide to Floating Life Techniques” and “Midnight Meditation Technique.” Both were considered decent.
Qin Ming didn’t feel too worried, mainly because the techniques he’d been practicing for years were starting to show results. A faint silver ripple, though barely visible, had appeared on his skin. His face looked healthier, and his eyes were bright. “Brother Lu Ze, Sister-in-law, just give me a bit more time. I think I can do it.”
“Awakening” meant that based on one’s current physical state, a powerful new vitality surged, almost like being reborn. It was a second chance for the body to develop.
Who wouldn’t be tempted by that?
Take Sickly, for instance. He had been so frail, but after awakening, he could lift a creature weighing several hundred pounds above his head. It was almost like he had rewritten his own fate.
Imagine if Lu Ze, who already practiced the “Midnight Meditation Technique” and could break bricks with his bare hands, awakened. How strong would he become?
“Ever since I got over my lingering illnesses, I’ve felt different. I’m in better shape than I’ve ever been,” Qin Ming said, sounding confident.
Before Lu Ze and Liang Wan Qing could reply, five-year-old Wen Rui, who had been listening intently, nodded eagerly. His rosy cheeks were full of excitement. “Uncle, you’re the best! When you awaken, can you catch a big mountain beast so we can have a meat stew? I… I’m really craving it.”
Little Wen Hui, barely two, waddled over and added in her tiny voice, “Uncle… strong, eat meat.”
Qin Ming chuckled. “You don’t need to wait that long. I can get you something tasty today.” He pulled down a red squirrel that hung from his hunting fork.
The mutant squirrel’s big, black eyes gleamed with terror.
“Hey, it’s still alive! Even better. Its meat will be way more tender than if it had been frozen,” Qin Ming said as he checked it out.
“This squirrel is so pretty and kinda cute,” Wen Rui said, blinking at the fluffy little creature.
“Once it’s stewed, it’ll be even cuter, and I promise it’ll taste amazing,” Qin Ming teased.
Wen Rui hesitated. He hadn’t had meat for a while and really wanted it, but seeing the cute red-furred creature, he couldn’t help but feel torn.
Little Wen Hui, mimicking her brother, stared at the squirrel with bright eyes, mumbling, “Squirrel… cute.”
Watching the two kids, Lu Ze and Liang Wan Qing laughed.
Qin Ming agreed. “Yeah, it’s cute and clever. Look at the stash it’s prepared for winter—pine nuts, walnuts, hazelnuts, red dates, even mushrooms. That’ll make a delicious squirrel and mushroom stew.”
“Really? But… I don’t want it to die,” Wen Rui murmured, fidgeting with his clothes, though he didn’t forget to swallow a bit of drool.
“Of course, there are tiger palm mushrooms and sunbird mushrooms in here. They’re famous mountain delicacies. You two are in for a treat. Mutant creatures know how to pick the best,” Qin Ming said with a smile.
The red squirrel puffed up its fur, clearly angry.
Qin Ming pulled out a short knife, holding the squirrel as he got ready to skin it in the courtyard. This wasn’t something the kids should see.
“Squeak, squeak!” The mutant squirrel squealed in panic, wriggling desperately. The wire around it dug into its skin.
“Uncle, how about we let it live?” Wen Rui asked, trying to push away the thought of stewed meat, as if he’d made up his mind to spare it.
“But it’s such good meat! The flesh of mutant creatures is the best,” Qin Ming tempted him with a grin.
“Not this time. After you awaken, Uncle, you’ll be able to hunt much bigger, scarier creatures. I’ll wait for that,” Wen Rui said, his compassion winning over his craving.
The mutant squirrel, still frantic, glanced back and forth between Qin Ming’s knife and Wen Rui, squeaking as if begging for mercy.
Liang Wan Qing watched in surprise. “This little critter is really smart. It seems to understand what you’re saying; look at how its tiny face is scrunched up in worry.”
Qin Ming put his knife away. “There’s not much meat on it anyway. It was just meant to be a treat for the kids. If they like it alive, we can keep it as a pet.”
Lu Ze frowned a bit. “This winter is harsh. Where will we find extra food to feed it?”
The mutant squirrel glanced toward the bulging skin pouch it had filled with its stored treasures!
Qin Ming noticed this too; the little creature was quite clever. He picked some acorns from the pile of dried fruits. “These nuts need to be treated before eating; otherwise, they’re a bit toxic and bitter. We’ll save them for feeding the squirrel.”
The red squirrel stayed silent, its eyes wide, breathing heavily.
“Isn’t staying alive good enough? And if you try biting anyone, I swear you’ll end up in the stew pot,” Qin Ming warned as he locked it in a birdcage.
Lu Ze thought about selling the mutant squirrel. Its fiery red fur was valuable, and keeping it would waste food. But seeing the kids’ joy, he decided against it.
As they parted, Lu Ze took the cage and some acorns, leaving the other dried goods. Qin Ming didn’t say anything more, packing a bag of walnuts and pine nuts into Liang Wan Qing’s hands for the children.
After sorting out the food situation, Qin Ming began to seriously think about his “awakening.” Lu Ze’s comment about his “unorthodox methods” had struck a chord.
He vaguely remembered hearing when he was little that his movements had a basis, but they wouldn’t lead to success.
A moment later, he stepped into the courtyard, choosing to follow his instincts. The “unorthodox methods” he had practiced for over a decade seemed to have evolved. There was no reason to stop now.
Qin Ming stretched his joints, twisting and turning. Then, suddenly, he leapt off the ground like a steel arrow, yet landed as softly as a feather.
He flowed between stillness and motion, crouching like a tiger, moving as if wading through mud, his movements seamless and natural. Then he spun around, kicking out with the speed of lightning, like a dragon’s tail striking the air, producing a deep, echoing sound.
After a warm-up, he began more complex moves.
“Blow and breathe, expel the old and inhale the new, the Bear Stretches, the Owl Gazes…” He moved with strength and grace, causing a wind that sent snow swirling around him.
Soon, that familiar feeling returned. Silver strands, barely visible, started weaving out from his skin, rippling like waves, creating a faint shimmering layer over his body.
Gradually, a white mist formed around him, and a warm current surged through his muscles, like rain soaking into dry earth. The movements were tiring, but he felt energized. His body seemed to crave more, drawing in the silver ripples.
His skin tingled, his body strengthening. Was this the beginning of his awakening?
Qin Ming felt a powerful urge to run, to let loose all this energy. So he did.
He dashed across the snow-covered terrain like a comet shooting through the night sky, heading for the forested hills.
In the distance, in the snow, a tall, slender woman stood silently. Her black fur cloak shimmered with a dark glow, hiding her white neck but revealing a delicate chin. She radiated a cold mystery.
A raven perched nearby on a thorn bush, speaking in a human voice, “Ah, a body awakening on its own. That boy is quite special. Look how he’s covered in a faint light that’s rippling the air around him.”
“I can sense great potential in him, a rare find in a place like this,” it continued, its feathers black as ink, its purple eyes fixed ahead. “Your master is looking for a final disciple, isn’t he? This boy might be the one.”
The woman stood on a large green stone, her cloak billowing in the cold wind, showing her graceful figure. Her voice was cool and distant, “There are better candidates.”
Suddenly, Qin Ming sensed something. He looked into the distance, his bow and arrow ready.
“A sharp instinct too,” the raven noted. It turned to the woman and said, “Your master’s path is unique. Don’t overlook a seed that might grow strong.”
“If he’s not chosen, that’s his loss, not mine. I’ve already found the best candidate,” she replied, her dark hair blowing in the mountain wind, partly covering her pale face. Clad in black, she was both cold and stunning as she moved forward. “For now, searching the mountains is more important.”