Chapter 54: Secrets and True Names
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming stepped carefully off the road and into the dense forest, his surroundings growing quieter with each step. He knelt down, drawing his White Jade Alloy Blade, and began to dig a deep hole in the damp earth. Once satisfied, he placed a scrap of fabric, about the size of his palm, into the hollow space. He pressed it down gently, then covered it with soil, making sure it was completely hidden beneath the forest floor.
As he finished, Old Liu watched from the edge of the trees. “Are you worried this will bring trouble?” he asked, his voice low and curious.
Qin Ming nodded without saying a word. He then tossed in a freshly hunted hare, its still-warm body landing beside the buried scrap. The memory of that strange black mist, which had formed itself into a chilling, sinister young man, weighed heavily on Qin Ming’s mind. The man’s single possession, that torn bit of fabric, felt unsettling enough that Qin Ming dared not handle it carelessly. Burying it here seemed safer.
Afterwards, Qin Ming and Old Liu continued on their way. They stopped in Silver Vine Town for breakfast, choosing a small, steamy eatery where they enjoyed bowls of hot porridge and fresh buns. When they had finished, they strolled about the town for half an hour, blending in with the ordinary townsfolk. Only when the time felt right did they head to the place they had agreed upon.
Their destination was the Wu family’s residence. It was not a grand estate, but it had once been something special. Now, however, it looked old and tired. The red paint on the front gate had peeled away in many spots, and the once-bright bronze knocker had gone dull and greenish with age. Standing before it, Old Liu lifted the knocker and gave three firm taps.
“Old Wu, open the door!” he called, his voice echoing lightly.
“Coming,” came the shaky voice of an elderly man. Moments later, an older gentleman appeared, pushing the gate open and inviting them inside.
The courtyard was large, though it, too, had seen much better days. The paving stones that lined the ground were cracked and worn, and a large flowerbed in the center had been turned into a patch of vegetables. At one end, a rockery that must have once been quite magnificent now stood half-crumbled and draped in withered gourd vines.
The Wu family’s decline was obvious. In the past, they had possessed four courtyards full of proud buildings. Now, everything looked faded and forlorn, as though clinging to memories of lost glory. Had their fortunes not taken such a sad turn, it was unlikely they would ever have allowed outsiders like Qin Ming and Old Liu to see their treasured ancestral secret manual.
Old Wu himself showed no sign of noble bearing. His physique revealed only a single Awakening, and he looked no different from an ordinary elderly villager. There were no servants bustling about, only a teenage boy who brought rough, simple tea that smelled like dry leaves and old straw.
Old Liu cleared his throat and set his cup down. “Old Wu, let’s not play games,” he said straightforwardly. “You know why we’re here. Tell us what you want in exchange.”
Old Wu sighed, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Truth be told, I feel quite uneasy about this. The Wu family was once glorious. Four generations back, there was a grandmaster with five Awakenings who ruled this region like a lord. And even before him, our ancestors’ achievements were renowned. Now look at me. Am I truly about to sell my family’s legacy?” He sighed again, as if the weight of history pressed down on him. “The more I think about it, the more ashamed I feel.”
Qin Ming glanced around the worn sitting room. He could imagine it in its prime: delicate carvings, gleaming columns inlaid with gold and silver. Now the carvings were chipped, the columns stripped of their precious metals. Everything seemed to echo with the sighs of past generations.
Old Liu took a sip of the bitter tea. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Old Wu,” he said gently. “Many families have known both rise and fall. If I trace my Liu family back far enough, we might even have royal blood. But have you ever heard me brag about being descended from dragons?”
Old Wu snorted with a half-smile. “That’s ancient history. For all we know, you might not even be from that same Liu line. As for me, these past few nights, I’ve barely slept. My heart’s been too heavy.”
Qin Ming decided to be direct. He placed five Daylight Gold coins on the chipped wooden table. “Old Wu, we only want to borrow it and read it. We promise not to reveal a word of it to anyone else.”
Old Wu shook his head. “That’s not enough,” he said, his gaze steady.
Old Liu frowned, tapping a finger on the table. “Don’t be greedy now. We only need it for a day. We’ve given you our word not to spread its secrets. Do you think this is some celestial scripture?”
With another sigh, Old Wu replied, “When I was a young man, I could spend two Daylight Gold coins at the Bright Moon Tower in Red Glow City in a single night.”
Old Liu burst into laughter. “Oh, you old rascal! Talking about your wild youth now, are you? Careful—your wife might still have sharp ears!”
Qin Ming began to understand how the Wu family’s fortunes had dried up. Old Wu, back in his day, had clearly been a man who knew how to waste money. Without arguing, Qin Ming took out two more Daylight Gold coins and added them to the pile.
Old Liu sighed, looking at Old Wu with raised eyebrows. “Look, Old Wu, we’ve been risking our necks lately, fighting off strange beasts and gathering scraps from the Great Canyon just to have something to sell. Don’t squeeze us dry.”
Old Wu said nothing, merely sipping his tea, waiting calmly as though he had all the time in the world. Finally, when Qin Ming had increased the total to fifteen Daylight Gold coins, Old Wu let out a heavy breath. “For the sake of my descendants, I’ll let you see it. Life gives us no choices sometimes.” He slipped an old, animal-hide-bound manual from within his robe and set it on the table. Its pages were yellowed and ancient, thick with the weight of history. Then, with a sorrowful look, he left the room.
Qin Ming gently picked up the old manual, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he turned the pages. This was a crucial time for him, and he intended to learn as much as he could. Though Old Wu’s family manual might not have been as complete as the Silk Script, it was full of valuable insights, painstakingly compiled by generations of ancestors who poured their hearts and minds into it.
He studied the contents closely for a long while. When he finally finished, he handed the book to Old Liu and shut his eyes, letting the teachings settle in his mind. Old Liu, no fool himself, began leafing through the manual at once, comparing its instructions to the lessons he had learned from older, more experienced mountain patrol warriors.
Suddenly, Old Liu’s eyes widened in astonishment. Sitting across from him, Qin Ming remained perfectly still, his eyes closed, fingertips glowing faintly with a soft Celestial Light. The light radiated sharply, as if it could cut through the air itself.
Old Liu prided himself on his quick grasp of techniques and his natural gifts, yet now he felt completely overshadowed. Qin Ming had only just read the manual, and already he was displaying Celestial Light Force as described in those ancient pages. How could he do it so swiftly?
“Don’t rush,” Qin Ming said quietly, standing up. “We’ve paid for the reading, so I’ll head home first. I need to digest what I’ve learned.”
Old Liu remained where he was, feeling somewhat stunned. He had once come close to becoming a disciple in Red Glow City. Now he felt foolish. Next to Qin Ming’s effortless mastery, his own talents seemed rather ordinary indeed.
As Qin Ming made his way out, Old Wu called from the courtyard, surprised at how soon he was leaving. “Young man, are you off already?”
Qin Ming nodded. “The teachings in your ancestors’ manual are remarkable, but they don’t quite fit my needs,” he said calmly.
Relief, pride, and perhaps a trace of sadness flickered across Old Wu’s face. “That’s perfectly natural,” he replied. “I’ve spent half my life studying it, and I’ve still only scratched the surface. It is meant to be profound.”
“It truly is remarkable,” Qin Ming agreed politely before stepping out of the Wu family residence.
No sooner had Qin Ming departed than a loud crash sounded from the sitting room. Old Wu hurried back to find Old Liu looking flustered and embarrassed, having knocked his teacup to the floor. The cup lay shattered in puddles of tea. The situation seemed to perfectly reflect Old Liu’s shaken state of mind.
By the time Qin Ming reached home, he noticed Yang Yong Qing at the village entrance. She stood next to a tall black goat, stroking it gently and whispering, “Yong Hei, in four days we’ll go to Golden Rooster Ridge…”
Qin Ming said nothing, continuing on until he reached the comfort of his own small courtyard. There, he began practicing the Celestial Light Force he had learned. The Sharp Force, described in the Wu family’s old manual, allowed one’s bare hands to pierce through armor with ease. Its penetrating power was truly extraordinary. It resembled the Nail Force he already knew, and Qin Ming suspected that blending the two might yield a splendid new combination.
According to the old texts, the Wu ancestors had been masters of both spear and bow, and their Sharp Force allowed them to channel Celestial Light into weapons. When Celestial Light could be projected outwards, their arrows and spear thrusts were known to terrify anyone who dared face them.
The manual also mentioned the Three-colored Flower. The variety that grew on Spirit Mountain was considered the finest quality and was said to nurture and strengthen one’s internal Celestial Light. Everything seemed to revolve around Celestial Light. In its quiet, natural state, Celestial Light nourished the body from within. But once released, it became fierce and dangerous, changing depending on the user’s chosen technique. The manual warned against mixing incompatible Celestial Light Forces, as the result could be catastrophic explosions of energy within one’s body.
The Sharp Force itself was a blend of three simple techniques. Beyond this point, even the Wu ancestors had not dared to experiment further. Qin Ming thought this through carefully. He felt his own Celestial Light Force was strangely adaptable, more so than anyone else’s might be.
The manual explained that Three-colored Flowers grown beneath Celestial Light piercing the night sky were of supreme quality, but dangerously potent. A person who consumed such a flower would normally need extra ingredients to sustain their life force, or else suffer terrible harm—unless they had an exceptionally sturdy constitution.
Qin Ming guessed that what they called an “invasion” likely referred to the spiritual essence infused into the flower by the Celestial Light outside. If his body was tough enough to handle the invading Celestial Light, he might be able to use the supreme Three-colored Flower without needing any special aids at all.
…
Meanwhile, in the mountains near the Great Canyon, two bandit leaders from Golden Rooster Ridge stood guard over a certain area. They talked quietly, keeping their eyes on the rugged landscape around them.
“Do you think he’ll go after the young and strong again?” one asked. “We’ve warned him many times. If too many people die, the authorities from Red Glow City will start sniffing around, and that’ll mean big trouble for us.”
“Is he really one of those outsiders?” the other replied, shifting uneasily. “He’s so cold and spooky. He’s nothing like the holy beings we’ve heard stories about.”
“Without him fully showing his true form, who can say for sure? His methods are strange.”
They continued their discussion, completely unaware that the sinister young man of black mist, the one who had held a Golden Bandit token and recruited their help, had already perished. Before, he had promised only to target older folks whose deaths might look natural. Now that dawn had come and gone, he still had not returned, prompting the bandits to wonder what might have happened.
“He promised to aim only at the elderly, so their deaths wouldn’t raise suspicion,” one bandit muttered. “But the night’s long over. Where is he?”
“Let’s wait a bit more,” the other suggested. “Years ago, an old beast was said to have wept at a grave here, causing strange transformations and an uproar. Red Glow City’s leaders sealed that matter away. Could this outsider be trying something similar?”
“Hard to say. Maybe he’s just passing through,” the other replied.
…
Back in his small courtyard, Qin Ming sat cross-legged, steadily mastering the Coiling Silk Force, Intercepting Force, Nail Force, and Sharp Force. Combined with his unique Celestial Light Force, he felt ready to consume the Three-colored Flower and bring all these energies together, enhancing his strength to a whole new level.
He opened the jade box that held the flower, gazing at its bright, sword-shaped petals. A colorful mist seemed to rise from it, swirling around him. Ever since his third Awakening, he had been recalling vague fragments of his early childhood, long-buried memories rising like faint ghosts from the past.
“Abandon,” he whispered softly, using his finger dipped in tea to write the word on the table. Then he wrote three more characters: “Cui Chong He.”
He stared at the words, muttering under his breath, “Harmony through balance… It’s a phrase from those outsider texts. Cui… Cui Chong He. Could that be my true name? But why do I feel such a strong dislike for the outsiders?”