Chapter 51: The End of Joy
This story is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
“If you want to get something done right, you’ve got to have the proper tools first,” Qin Ming murmured, frowning slightly as he stood in the dim courtyard. His voice had the awkward yet determined tone of a boy on the verge of adulthood—eager, a bit uncertain, but stubbornly hopeful.
He knew perfectly well that his plans might cause a huge uproar—maybe even draw the unwanted gaze of Red Glow City. Still, he had to move forward. He wasn’t only short of a decent blade; he also needed to master one or two more moves from the Celestial Light Force. He already had a Blade Manual, and thanks to Old Man Liu’s coaxing of a once-reputable but now dwindling family, there might be another chance to learn a secret Celestial Light Force style. If he mixed it with the Three-Colored Flower, his strength would surely rise. He had to make this work, no matter what.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from near the village’s entrance: “Who here is Qin Ming?” It was a call from someone under the banner of Golden Rooster Ridge. They were calling him out by name.
“Wow, they’re actually looking for me this soon?” Qin Ming muttered, sounding like a restless teenage boy who’d just been caught sneaking out at night. “Guess I’m on their list,” he added with a half-smirk. The two bandit chiefs must have passed his name around. No use denying it now.
Old Man Liu came hurrying over, worry etched on his wrinkled face. He feared Qin Ming—now brimming with confidence after his Third Awakening—might try to defy Golden Rooster Ridge outright and bring disaster down on all their heads. If Qin Ming said no to them now, violence would surely follow. Old Man Liu himself had tasted humiliation at their hands, but he was practical enough to know when to bend. Leaning close, he whispered urgently, “Just go along with it for now, lad.”
Qin Ming gave a small shrug and tried his best to sound casual, like a teenager pretending not to be bothered. “Yeah, relax, I’m not going to throw my life away,” he said, strolling over to Fire Spring near the Black-and-White Tree. There, beneath its twisted branches, he nodded quietly, agreeing to be put on Golden Rooster Ridge’s roster. He let them write down his name as though it was no big deal.
“That’s a fine, sturdy goat you’ve got there! Looks well-fed,” one of the Golden Rooster Ridge young men remarked, eyes lighting up at the sight of Yang Yong Qing’s black mountain goat tied near the village entrance. Without waiting for permission, he seized the tall, muscular goat and started dragging it off.
“Hey, come on, man!” protested Yang Yong Qing, voice tense. “I’ve grown attached to that goat, all right? You can’t just take it!” This goat was on the verge of some sort of powerful change, and Yang Yong Qing couldn’t stand the idea of losing it now.
But the young bandit from Golden Rooster Ridge only snorted, “We’re risking our necks protecting all these mountain villages, and we’ve suffered heavy losses—lost loads of our precious golden roosters, too. This goat will be perfect as a mount.” He looked Yang Yong Qing over with a crooked smile. “You’re an Awakener, right? Why not join Golden Rooster Ridge too? Since you own this goat, it’ll trust you. Otherwise, it might just end up on someone’s dinner table.”
Yang Yong Qing’s face grew dark. Was this for real? They were snatching his goat and now wanted to rope him in as well?
Qin Ming stepped forward, trying to keep the peace. “Um, guys, our place is tiny,” he said, doing his best to sound calm yet slightly annoyed, like a teenager would. “Isn’t one recruit from here enough?”
But the young bandit didn’t budge. “We need anyone who can fight. Another goat rider doesn’t hurt. That’s that.” He promptly wrote down Yang Yong Qing’s name too, ignoring all protests.
Meanwhile, Old Man Liu dashed back to his home. He kicked his big yellow dog straight into its kennel, whispering sharply, “Stay hidden and keep quiet, you blasted animal!” He knew better than to let that dog draw unwanted attention now.
The Golden Rooster Ridge fellow mounted his own golden rooster and prepared to leave. He was a Second Awakener, and before heading off, he ordered Qin Ming and Yang Yong Qing to report to Golden Rooster Ridge in five days. Qin Ming noted the date in silence.
“Not much time,” Qin Ming thought grimly, running a hand through his hair as if he were simply a worried boy trying to make a plan before the next school exam. “I need to get ready—fast.”
Xu Yue Ping offered Yang Yong Qing a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Try not to fret too much. They might be awful, but once you’ve joined them, they probably won’t treat you too badly.”
Strangely, not everyone was against these forced recruitments. Some Awakeners from nearby villages even volunteered, not caring a whit about Golden Rooster Ridge’s nasty reputation.
“Weren’t they almost wiped out in the Grand Canyon?” Yang Yong Qing whispered, eyes narrow and suspicious.
Old Man Liu nodded, his tone grim. “Everyone knows going into the Grand Canyon is about hunting rare, mysterious resources. Golden Rooster Ridge barely survived. They’re the worst kind of lot—if you swung a blade in their camp, it’d be hard not to hit a villain.”
Qin Ming cast a quick glance at Old Man Liu. The old man’s face was flushed—it seemed his Third Awakening was still coursing through him. Good thing those bandit chiefs weren’t here to see the old man looking like a torch, or they’d suspect something.
Later, Qin Ming slipped over to Old Man Liu’s home to ask if he’d managed to borrow that secret manual.
“They finally agreed, but they’ll surely demand a high price. We’ll go together tomorrow,” said Old Man Liu, sweat on his brow as he endured the odd sensations of his Third Awakening.
Qin Ming nodded. By tomorrow, the old man would likely be finished with this ordeal.
“You can’t go strolling around looking that flushed,” Qin Ming said, sounding like a concerned friend. “If some expert spots you like this, they’ll know something’s up.” Qin Ming then shared the “Blend with Dust” technique, which was easy enough for Old Man Liu to pick up. If Old Man Liu got exposed, Qin Ming’s own secrets would come spilling out too.
Old Man Liu gave a relieved sigh. “Perfect. The last thing I need is running into those two chiefs again with this face.” He lowered his voice and added, “Have you started practicing any Celestial Light Force moves? I hear that mixing them can give even better results. I’ve got one called Twisting Silk Force, taught to me by an old Mountain Patrol. Want to give it a try?”
Qin Ming’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, sure! Sounds cool.” He was as enthusiastic as any boy handed a new spell to master. The ancient scroll he studied had often mentioned “fusion,” so adding another style seemed logical.
“Care for some Celestial Light Force from me in return?” Qin Ming asked, feeling he should repay Old Man Liu’s kindness.
“No need,” the old man said, shaking his head. “I can tell what you’re learning is far from ordinary. You’re not local, right? Probably have some impressive background. Twisting Silk Force is enough for me in my Third Awakening stage. Tomorrow, I’d like to see that family’s secret manual, though.”
“Deal,” said Qin Ming, nodding. He knew his own Celestial Light Force techniques wouldn’t be easy for outsiders to handle, and the Blade Manual was definitely not something to share lightly.
Back in his small courtyard, Qin Ming got right to work. He focused first on fully grasping the Celestial Light Force he’d already learned. Once he perfected that, he’d add more techniques.
With a swift flick of his finger, he brushed the handle of a long-handled hammer. He felt a subtle pulse of Celestial Light Force, and in an instant, the hammer leapt into his grip. He tried different approaches, even using the back of his hand—each time, the Celestial Light Force clung like glue. It had an “adhesive” quality, letting him latch onto and pull objects as if they were stuck to him.
He imagined applying this in battle. A single touch could tear an enemy’s flesh right off. A shiver ran through him—this was nasty stuff, but effective.
Experimenting further, he pushed the Celestial Light Force against the old stone millstone. To his astonishment, he easily chipped off a chunk of it. When he pressed his glowing fingertip to the stone, it cracked and scattered bits of rock everywhere. The piercing power was astonishing.
“So versatile,” Qin Ming murmured, impressed. This Celestial Light Force wasn’t just useful; it was downright fearsome.
Later, he opened the scroll of Twisting Silk Force that Old Man Liu had given him. It was thankfully short and not too complicated, but it had delicate twists, focusing on the idea of moving like a winding thread. It taught using skill and cunning rather than brute force—perfect for subtle fights in the mountains.
“This must have come from generations of hunters and scouts battling fierce beasts,” Qin Ming thought, fascinated. It wasn’t grand or legendary, but it was practical and sharp.
By the end of the day, he could manage a basic use of Twisting Silk Force. He wasn’t a master, but it was a good start. He chuckled to himself, “Guess I’m not as clueless as I thought I’d be.” For a boy who’d rarely received any formal instruction, this was a victory.
And then another surprise: as soon as he got the hang of Twisting Silk Force, it began blending with his Celestial Light Force. It merged naturally, forming a more powerful whole. Qin Ming’s heart gave a joyous leap. This was his first time successfully merging techniques, and it worked perfectly!
He realized, however, that the Twisting Silk Force was being absorbed too quickly. He’d need to fully master it first, then ingest the Three-Colored Flower, and only then combine them properly. For now, he should keep practicing them separately. Once he was ready, he could fuse them into something truly formidable.
As night fell, Qin Ming perched himself atop the stone millstone in the courtyard, taking a moment to breathe and think. His mind drifted toward the Blade Manual. He needed to study it soon. In the quiet darkness, he imagined distant lands—magnificent cities with dazzling lights, hidden masters, wondrous Celestial Light Forces he had yet to discover. He yearned to travel and see it all.
Just as a feeling of calm settled over him, Qin Ming’s pupils shrank. He forced himself to stay utterly still, pretending nothing was amiss, but inside he was rattled. He had seen a strange black mist twisting about in the night sky, snake-like and silent. It spiraled above the village and then descended somewhere out of sight.
His heart pounded, but he kept his expression neutral. No one else noticed a thing. Even Old Man Liu, awakened as he was, had sensed nothing. Qin Ming realized he had no weapon forged from the White Jade Alloy yet and no certain way to handle eerie things like this.
He slipped back into his room quietly, pretending to be calm, and began flipping through the worn Blade Manual. At first, his thoughts scattered every which way, but soon the old pages drew him in. The manual held more than just words; it had remnants of powerful emotions, preserved in ink and parchment.
Within the technique section, Qin Ming felt not one but two distinct emotional imprints. One belonged to the original writer, and the other to someone who had studied it later.
“Wish I could master the Tathagata Force!”