Chapter 66: From Now On, I Live for Myself
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming’s head was throbbing, like a dull axe chopping at his skull over and over again. His vision went black, and the pain made him feel like he was about to pass out. He took a deep breath, but it did nothing to steady him. He stumbled, his emotions flaring, as if a fire was raging inside of him.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he muttered through the pain. He had guessed many times before, but he never thought it would be his parents who asked Cui Hong to treat him this way. The pain was like having his heart torn apart piece by piece, and it was even worse than when the Feather-Clothed Youth had shattered his arm and cracked his skull with that glowing purple staff.
Qin Ming swayed, staggering backward as broken memories surfaced in his mind. It made sense now. During his third awakening, he had dipped his finger in some cold tea and written a single word on the table: abandon.
Now, he remembered more. Back when he still lived in that quiet village before the Feather-Clothed Youth found him, he had silently written that same word one night. When the sudden fire consumed the village and the skilled warriors broke through, with the screams of battle ringing in the air, Qin Ming had stayed silent. He faced death calmly, watching it all unfold without a word.
“Was I already too tired to speak back then? Was I expecting this to happen all along? Was it just utter disappointment? Maybe a bit of sadness too?” Qin Ming stood in the desert, enduring the splitting pain in his head. It was like reopening an old wound, reliving the torment all over again. He could see his old self clearly—even as the fire was about to swallow him, his face showed no emotion. He had even looked up at the dark sky, as if he had let go of everything.
“Did I really feel some kind of relief at the end? I had imagined it before, and when it really came, I could face it so calmly,” he thought, standing in the desert with his eyes red, looking at his past self. He felt anger, defiance, and frustration for that boy from two years ago, emotions rising from the deepest part of his heart.
“Young master, Chong He, are you alright?” Cui Hong asked, his voice filled with concern as he watched Qin Ming’s state.
“Stay back!” Qin Ming said, his voice low. Before his eyes were endless flames, the burning beams nearly crushing him. He hadn’t cared about life or death back then. He didn’t know why, but two years ago, in silence, he had sighed one last time, as if letting everything go.
But now, he couldn’t accept it! The Feather-Clothed Youth had nearly beaten him to death, and he lost so many of his memories. Was that why he couldn’t let go of his past now? Why couldn’t he understand why he felt relieved on that night two years ago?
Qin Ming stood there, holding onto the pain as more broken memories rushed back—images like dense forests of spears and rows of cold blades, violently storming his mind, trying to tear him apart. He remembered another night, seeing many people. This was an earlier memory, before he met the Feather-Clothed Youth. He was surrounded by a large group, separating from the Cui Family.
Across from him were a middle-aged man and woman, watching as he climbed into a bronze carriage carved with cloud patterns. The man said nothing, his eyes stern, looking right through him as he quietly watched Qin Ming leave. The woman, in her early thirties, wore an elegant palace gown, her hair styled in an intricate bun held by a gold-feathered hairpin. Her face was exquisite and expressionless as she watched Qin Ming leave.
Many elderly people stood nearby, their spirits strong, but they kept their distance, seemingly intimidated by the aura of the two. Qin Ming had looked back then, but all he saw were their backs. The middle-aged couple had already left, and he opened his mouth, but no words came out. The memories were fragmented and blurry, but Qin Ming could still feel the strong emotions he had back then—a sense of separation, reluctance, deep sadness, and a hint of resentment.
“Chong He, are you alright?” Cui Hong’s face showed concern.
Qin Ming looked at him and said, “I’m actually doing fine now. If you all hadn’t come back, it would’ve been even better!” The pain in his head had lessened. He touched his face and felt tears. He didn’t even know when they had started to fall. Annoyed, he quickly wiped them away.
Tears were not something he should have now. Those memories were in the past, things he should’ve let go of. What was there to cry about? Qin Ming’s expression was blank as he spoke. “I always thought I must have done something wrong. But now I know—I never wronged you, did I? I never betrayed the Cui Family, and yet here you are again. What do you want from me this time?”
Cui Hong sighed. “I came here for two reasons. First, to get the Yin-Yang Elixir, and second, for your sake. I’ve arranged a residence for you where you’ll be protected. There’s no need for you to go out into the world and take risks.”
“You think you can just say a word and end my future?!” Qin Ming’s eyes flared with anger, even turning red. He had been through so much, nearly losing his life, covered in blood, surviving in the freezing snow like a beggar. If the people of Twin Tree Village hadn’t taken him in, he would’ve died long ago.
Now, they thought they could just say a few words and force him to stay in some remote place? Why? Everything he had now, he had earned with his own hands, fighting in the mountains. He never used a single resource from the Cui Family.
Cui Hong fell silent, guilt and unwillingness flooding him again. But this was his task—how could he return without completing it? After a long time, he spoke seriously. “Chong He, you’ve probably started practicing the local Awakening Method, haven’t you? After all, without guidance, you can’t master the training from the silk script. These local methods aren’t that impressive. No matter how hard you work, you’ll only become a skilled person in a small place like this. Out there, you wouldn’t be anything special. So why not just give it up now, before it’s too late? Stay here, live a peaceful life. You’ll be protected and cared for—isn’t that enough?”
Qin Ming felt his anger rise. His life, his future—why did others get to decide for him?
“So, if I awaken—whether it’s the training from the silk script or some other Awakening Method—you’ll stop me, won’t you? You’ll follow your orders and attack me?” Qin Ming asked.
Cui Hong stayed silent.
“My parents’ decision…” Qin Ming looked out into the dark desert, feeling a deep sense of powerlessness mixed with his overwhelming anger. He had faced death before, even died once in a way, and he had never been afraid. But this cut from his own family, from people he loved, was something he couldn’t defend against.
The memories, though fragmented and incomplete, hinted at something—that word he had written: abandon. Was he an abandoned piece? A pawn? Whatever it was, it made Qin Ming’s breathing heavy, and he couldn’t let it go.
He knew he had never betrayed the Cui Family. He had risked his life, barely survived, only to be sent to this remote place. The images of fire flashed before his eyes, confirming his belief that many in the Cui Family had known exactly what would happen that night.
“Did they use me as a scapegoat?” he thought. But what he couldn’t understand was why, after everything he’d been through, his parents still wanted to treat him this way.
Everything he once believed was crumbling. He had felt so hopeless back then that he thought life itself was fake, pieced together from broken promises.
Cui Hong said nothing and stepped forward, regret in his heart, but ready to act.
“Can you at least tell me what happened?” Qin Ming suddenly spoke up, pointing to his head. “You must’ve seen it that night. The Feather-Clothed Youth broke my skull in three places. I lost so much. If you’re going to make a move, at least let me die knowing the truth.”
“What?” Cui Hong’s face changed, shocked. He felt guilt and regret. “I didn’t know you lost your memory. That’s our fault—we should’ve gotten there faster. I’m sorry, young master, Chong He.”
His emotions were in turmoil. “Chong He, I’m not here to kill you. I only want to sever your awakening path. No one will come after you after that. You could stay here, marry, have children, and live without any more conflicts.”
“How is that any different from killing me? I want to walk the awakening path—that’s my choice, my future. Who are you to take that away?” Qin Ming shouted. “I’ve already forgotten the past, only fragments remain. What more could you possibly fear?”
“What’s going on?!” came a shocked voice from the edge of the desert, along the winding path. Li Qing Yue appeared, dressed in her feathered robe. Beside her were her maid, two armored men, and Meng Xing Hai, the new lord of Red Glow City.
The desert was silent.
Cui Hong didn’t retreat; he looked at the young man before him. Qin Ming knew Cui Hong was going to make his move. He spoke, his voice firm. “A simple family—my neighbors, just an ordinary couple, took care of their children with love and warmth. They would give their lives to protect them. And the Cui Family? After today, we have nothing to do with each other. Let it all go.”
At that moment, Qin Ming felt a voice deep within him, like a sigh, telling him it was all in the past. Those were his parents. He shouldn’t blame them anymore. He had done his part. It was time to leave.
But right now, he couldn’t be calm about it. He shook his head. “I’ve already died once. From now on, I am no longer Cui Chong He. I am Qin Ming. From now on, I live for myself!” Qin Ming shouted into the desert, his voice echoing far and wide.