Chapter 54: Secrets and True Names
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming stepped into the dense forest lining the road. With his milky white jade knife, he dug a deep hole, then buried a small, palm-sized scrap of cloth inside.
“Afraid of causing trouble?” Old Man Liu asked.
Qin Ming nodded and tossed a freshly hunted rabbit into the pit as well. The young man, formed from the black mist, was cold and sinister, giving Qin Ming a very bad feeling. He decided it was best to be cautious with anything that had been close to him.
Afterwards, they enjoyed a steaming hot breakfast in Silver Vine Town and spent another half an hour wandering through the streets before heading to the house they had arranged to visit.
The Wu family’s home was not small, but it had clearly seen better days. The red paint on the door was peeling, and the copper ring lacked any shine.
“Old Wu, open the door!” Old Man Liu called, knocking on the door ring.
“Coming.” An elderly man appeared and invited them inside.
The courtyard was large, but it no longer had its former grandeur. The flagstone path was cracked in places, and a large section of what used to be a flowerbed had been turned into a vegetable garden. The rock garden was covered in dry gourd vines.
The Wu family had once been prosperous, but they had fallen on hard times. There were four courtyards in all, but the buildings were old and in disrepair, giving an air of desolation.
If it weren’t for this, they probably wouldn’t have agreed to let outsiders see their family’s secret manual.
Old Wu’s body had only gone through one awakening, and he no longer had the airs of a wealthy household. He was just like any other old man.
There weren’t any servants in the Wu family home, and a young boy brought them some simple tea.
“Old Wu, let’s skip the formalities. You know why we’re here. Name your price,” Old Man Liu said directly, not wanting to waste any time.
“To be honest, my feelings are mixed. The Wu family used to be so glorious. Four generations ago, we even had a master who had gone through five awakenings and looked down on this entire region, let alone our even more distant ancestors. And now… am I really just selling off my ancestors’ land? Thinking about it makes me feel deeply ashamed,” Old Wu sighed.
He glanced around the spacious living room, once filled with carved beams and painted rafters. Now, the table’s corners were chipped, and the thick pillars no longer gleamed with gold and silver inlay.
Old Man Liu took a sip of his tea and said, “Old Wu, people need to let go. Every family has had its golden age. Take my Liu family, for instance—trace it back far enough, and we were once royalty. Have I ever made a fuss about that?”
Old Wu chuckled. “That was ages ago, and besides, are you even the same ‘Liu’? Honestly, I’ve been having trouble sleeping these past few days.”
“Uncle Wu, we’re only borrowing the book. We promise not to share it.” Qin Ming spoke plainly, placing five day gold coins on the worn table.
It was a generous offer, as one day gold coin could feed a family of three for an entire year in this remote area.
“Not enough,” Old Wu said, shaking his head.
“Don’t be unreasonable, Old Wu. We’re only borrowing it for a day, and we promise not to spread its contents. Do you think this is some sort of sacred text?” Old Man Liu said, frowning.
Old Wu sighed. “When I was young, I went to the Bright Moon Tower in Scarlet Dawn City. One night there cost me two day gold coins.”
Old Man Liu burst out laughing. “Still talking about the good old days? Be careful, or your wife might hear you!”
Qin Ming finally understood why the Wu family had declined so quickly. It seemed Old Wu had lived quite lavishly in his younger days, never holding back when it came to spending money.
Without a word, Qin Ming placed two more gold coins on the table.
Old Man Liu sighed. “Old Wu, young Qin and I have been risking our lives lately—killing mutated creatures and scavenging broken weapons from the great ravine. Everything we earned is right here. Don’t push us too hard.”
Old Wu remained silent, sipping his tea calmly.
It wasn’t until Qin Ming added enough gold coins to make fifteen in total that Old Wu finally sighed. “My worthless descendants have forced me to do this, showing our family’s secret manual to outsiders.”
He pulled an old leather-bound book from his chest pocket, its age evident. Placing it on the table, he left the room, his face filled with melancholy.
Qin Ming held the book carefully, his expression serious as he immersed himself in its contents. This was a sensitive and crucial time for him—he wanted to improve his strength as quickly as possible.
Old Wu hadn’t been deceptive; the family manual was the culmination of the Wu ancestors’ efforts, filled with a strong emotional weight.
Qin Ming studied it intently. Though the awakening techniques detailed inside couldn’t compare to the ancient silk scrolls he had seen, they were still useful for reference.
After a long while, Qin Ming handed the book to Old Man Liu and closed his eyes, digesting what he had learned.
Old Man Liu didn’t hesitate either, taking the book and carefully studying it, comparing its contents with what he had learned from an old mountain patrolman.
Suddenly, he sensed something and looked up, immediately unsettled.
Qin Ming sat there with his eyes closed, his fingertips glowing faintly—sharp threads of light forming.
Old Man Liu had always thought of himself as quick to learn and naturally gifted, but now he has almost lost his composure. What was he seeing? Qin Ming had only just started practicing and had already formed the light threads described in the book.
“Take your time, old man. We paid for it, after all. I’m going home to reflect.” Qin Ming stood up.
Old Man Liu was at a loss for words. People really couldn’t be compared. He had nearly apprenticed himself to a master back in Scarlet Dawn City, but now it seemed his talent wasn’t even worth mentioning.
“Young man, you’re leaving already?” Old Wu asked from the courtyard, surprised that Qin Ming had come out so soon and was already saying his goodbyes.
Qin Ming nodded. “Yes, the book’s contents are too complex, and its methods don’t suit me.”
Old Wu’s somber expression brightened, and he smiled, patting Qin Ming on the shoulder. “That’s perfectly normal. My family’s secret manual is extremely profound. You’ve only looked at it for a short time—I spent half my life studying it and still haven’t fully grasped it.”
“Indeed, it’s an incredible book!” Qin Ming nodded, then left through the Wu family’s gate.
Crash!
A noise came from the living room. Old Wu rushed in, finding Old Man Liu a bit flustered, having accidentally knocked his teacup to the ground.
On his way back, Qin Ming saw Yang Yong Qing, who lived at the village entrance, gently patting his large black goat, whispering, “Blackie, just four more days until we head to Golden Rooster Ridge…”
Qin Ming returned to his small courtyard and began practicing the new light thread aura technique.
The “Thread Aura Technique” mentioned in the leather-bound book could easily break through armor with bare hands, possessing immense penetrating power. It shared many similarities with the “Nail Technique” Qin Ming had learned. Practicing both together, they complemented and fused effectively.
The Wu ancestors had once been famed in this region for their mastery of spears and archery, using the thread aura technique to enhance their attacks. When the light threads could be projected outward, their arrows and spear strikes were terrifyingly powerful.
Additionally, the book provided insights that broadened Qin Ming’s knowledge. It even mentioned the medicinal properties of the “Three Color Flower.”
According to the book, the Three Color Flower from Spirit Mountain was top-grade, with a gentle medicinal nature that could nourish and enhance the body’s internal light, thereby improving the light thread aura technique.
Ultimately, everything depended on the light—under normal circumstances, the light produced by the human body was calm and nurturing. But once projected outward with force, it could reveal its violent side.
The book warned that fusing different light thread aura techniques should be done cautiously. If they weren’t compatible, it could trigger an explosion of internal light, with disastrous consequences.
The thread aura technique itself was a fusion of three common techniques. Any more than that, and the Wu ancestors hadn’t dared to attempt it.
Qin Ming pondered. He hadn’t encountered such problems. He felt that his light thread aura technique was highly accommodating.
The book mentioned that the Three Color Flower, nourished by light that pierced the night, was of the highest quality—even more precious than those from Spirit Mountain.
However, due to its potent nature, infused with external light, the medicinal effect was highly corrosive and couldn’t be endured by the human body. It needed to be taken alongside something rich in vitality to ensure safety.
Of course, a rare few with exceptional constitutions might not need any additional supplements and could withstand the flower’s ferocity.
Qin Ming suspected that the so-called corrosion was related to the spiritual essence left behind in the Three Color Flower by the light that pierced the night.
Back in the underground cave, Huang Jing De smiled warmly, seemingly answering every question, but he withheld information as always. It was habitual for him to keep some secrets.
Qin Ming mused that since his body could withstand the light’s corrosion without dying, he should be able to handle the highest quality Three Color Flower’s potency without needing any other vitality-rich supplements.
…
In the mountains, near the great ravine, two bandits from Golden Rooster Ridge stood guard with their men.
“He wouldn’t be targeting the young men again, would he? I’ve warned him several times already—too many deaths will cause trouble. If the higher-ups in Scarlet Dawn City take notice, we’ll be in big trouble.”
“Is he really an outsider? He’s cold, eerie—nothing like those supposedly divine beings.”
“If he doesn’t actively manifest, we can’t even see him. It’s an outsider’s work, but based on his methods, he doesn’t seem to be following the orthodox path.”
The two bandits spoke quietly, unaware that the young man formed from black mist was already dead.
Earlier, that young man had come with a token from the Golden Thieves, asking the bandits of Golden Rooster Ridge to guard this place, preventing anyone from approaching.
“He promised he’d only target the elderly, making it look like natural deaths, nothing that would attract attention. But the night is already over, and he hasn’t returned.”
“Let’s wait a bit longer.”
“Years ago, an old beast cried at a grave in these mountains—one bow and a strange phenomenon appeared. It rapidly mutated, advancing multiple times, causing quite a stir. Afterwards, the higher-ups in Scarlet Dawn City sealed the information. Now this outsider is back in the same place, causing trouble. Do you think he’s trying to imitate that old beast? If word gets out, even a hundred deaths won’t be enough for us.”
“He’s an outsider. He wouldn’t take the same path as that creature, would he?”
The two bandits looked grim, wanting nothing to do with that eerie young man.
“Could it be that some powerful outsider is using him to test Black White Mountain?”
“I doubt it. I think he’s about to leave. Judging by his rushed demeanor, he’s probably just passing through, taking care of some business.”
…
Qin Ming sat in silence, practicing the thread, intercept, nail, and light techniques. With his strange personal light technique, he felt ready to take the Three Color Flower and fully merge all the techniques, which would greatly enhance his strength.
“This feels familiar…” He stared at the Three Color Flower in the jade box, lost in thought.
The overlapping petals, like willow leaves or blades, emitted colorful mist, spiritual light flowing, enveloping him.
Ever since his third awakening, Qin Ming had not only remembered parts of his childhood but also begun recalling other vague, fragmented memories.
“Abandon,” he whispered, writing the word on the table with a bit of spilled tea.
In that moment, staring at the Three Color Flower, he seemed to see a familiar scene from the past.
“Cui Chong He.” He then wrote three more characters, studying them closely. “‘Harmony through Impulse’ comes from ancient texts spread by outsiders. Cui—Cui Chong He—is that my real name? But I really don’t like outsiders.”