Chapter 67: Precious Treasure in the Palm
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
“Chong He, why don’t you come back with me? Maybe there’s still a way to turn this around,” Cui Hong said gently, his eyes filled with hope.
Qin Ming heard this, and his face tightened. Without a word, he took several steps back, inching towards the dark, desolate desert. The blackness seemed to pull him in, swallowing him up, until even his outline was barely visible.
Go back to the Cui family? Absolutely not. After two years of lost memories, Qin Ming had practically shed his old self, seeing everything from a brand-new perspective. He wasn’t the same as before; his views, his decisions—all different now. He felt like he had escaped the dangerous, raging current of his old life, breaking free from a course that wasn’t his own. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—go back.
The desert felt safer, his instincts making him retreat even further. The Cui family was like quicksand, a trap he had just managed to escape. Falling into it again would mean the end of him.
“Chong He, why are you reacting like this? Why do you look so terrified?” Cui Hong sighed as he saw Qin Ming acting like he was facing a wild beast.
It was obvious that Qin Ming saw the Cui family as nothing less than a threat—something to run from, not something to hold onto. His recent declaration to live for himself alone only confirmed it.
“Are you trying to force me?” Qin Ming said, his voice steady, but there was a sharpness to it. He drew out his white jade alloy blade, its polished surface glinting in the dim light. “Even if I’m not your match, I’m not just going to stand here and let it happen.”
Cui Hong frowned. The way Qin Ming held the blade—there was something there. A hint of mastery. It wasn’t something one could easily ignore. In fact, if he squinted, Cui Hong almost saw the spirit of a true blade master in Qin Ming’s stance.
“Huh?” Meng Xing Hai, who was standing a little way off on a rocky path, raised his eyebrows. He could see it too, even through the mist. Just a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy, but how could he possess such a presence, such a natural energy when it came to the blade?
Cui Hong decided not to use his Celestial Light Force. Instead, he extended his long arm and casually struck forward, wanting to see if Qin Ming really did have some talent with the blade.
Qin Ming’s blade—painted with mineral pigments, and just slightly shorter than his forearm, including the hilt—cut through the air with a thunderous sound. It moved like a bolt of lightning slicing through the darkness of a stormy night.
Rip! The sound of cloth tearing echoed in the stillness. Cui Hong looked down, stunned. A piece of his robe fluttered to the sand, cut clean off.
He had suppressed his strength, afraid of harming the young man before him, but there was no way Qin Ming should’ve been able to land a blow. Not on him. He was someone far above Qin Ming’s level—and yet, somehow, this boy, who’d only just stepped into the path of a warrior, had cut his robe.
Cui Hong stared at Qin Ming’s silhouette—now completely merged into the darkness—with a complicated expression.
In the distance, Meng Xing Hai looked genuinely shocked, murmuring, “The Cui family really produces amazing people. I thought I might’ve been seeing things, but this young man—his skill with the blade—it’s remarkable. His talent runs deep.”
Li Qing Yue—standing nearby—was equally surprised. She knew how much Meng Xing Hai valued skill with the blade, as he himself wielded one. To hear him speak so highly of someone meant that Qin Ming’s talent was truly exceptional.
She thought back to the night Qin Ming single-handedly took down Golden Rooster Ridge, slaying two notorious criminals who had each undergone four awakenings. Afterward, an old mountain patrolman claimed at least three people had taken part—each highly skilled in the use of a different weapon: blade, spear, and bow.
Li Qing Yue now realized that the word ‘skilled’ wasn’t nearly enough to describe Qin Ming’s mastery in the way of the blade.
“Chong He, you’ve really surprised me,” Cui Hong said after a moment, his voice betraying a mix of emotions. “Come back with me, let’s see what happens.”
“See what happens?” Qin Ming echoed, his voice thick with disbelief. He wasn’t about to put his fate in the hands of anyone else, especially not the Cui family—the same people who had all but dismissed his efforts before. Why risk it?
“You’ve already made it clear that it wouldn’t matter if I mastered that secret training method. And this skill I’ve gained with the blade? It’s not enough for me to go with you,” Qin Ming replied flatly.
Cui Hong didn’t answer. He had decided—he’d take Qin Ming back, no matter what. Staying in this pitch-black desert felt increasingly unsafe. He didn’t want to provoke anything… legendary.
“Stop!” Meng Xing Hai’s voice rang out, his figure flashing into the desert, trying to intercept. Li Qing Yue, moving with an almost ethereal grace, also glided forward on the sand.
Cui Hong had sensed them approaching long before, and wanting to avoid complications, he quickly reached out towards Qin Ming.
Just as Meng Xing Hai was about to intercept, he hesitated, his expression changing, and stepped back.
“Weren’t you supposed to help me? I’m about to get taken out here, and you’re just watching?” Qin Ming muttered quickly, his voice low as he eyed the approaching shadow.
Bang!
Cui Hong suddenly stumbled back, his right hand stinging with pain. It felt like he’d been kicked by a bull. He stumbled across the yellow sand, retreating a good ten meters before he could steady himself.
“Ouch!” He hissed through clenched teeth, the dusty air stinging his throat. His right hand felt numb—similar to the time he’d been kicked by a mule when he was a child.
He looked down at his hand, his keen eyesight adjusting to the dark. There, in the dim light, he saw what looked unmistakably like a hoof print.
“Wow, tough hand you’ve got there,” came a small, amused voice from the darkness. “Isn’t there a saying you humans have for this sort of situation? Like a stone in the… what was it again? The outhouse?”
Qin Ming stayed silent, refusing to comment. Despite everything, Cui Hong had saved his life once—even if it was just his duty at the time.
Cui Hong peered into the shadows and could just make out Qin Ming holding a small pig—a tiny wild boar, barely longer than his hand. And that pig had just kicked him?
Li Qing Yue narrowed her eyes, using a special visual technique to study the little creature, and her expression turned cautious. Despite its small size, she could sense something massive and dangerous lurking behind it, like a beast hidden in the night fog.
“The master of Black and White Mountain?” Meng Xing Hai asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Cui Hong’s face changed instantly. The mountain’s master? He had come to seek its help, yet here it was, transformed into a tiny boar, standing in front of them.
The old boar sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not the master anymore. You must’ve seen the new guy—all powerful and mysterious. He replaced me ages ago, just quietly took over without much fuss.”
Qin Ming had some confidence as he faced Cui Hong. Last night, the old boar had snored loudly enough to shake the earth but had also said to him, “Since we’ve run into each other, let me repay an old favor and settle some debts.”
Qin Ming still didn’t quite understand what favor the old boar owed him, but with its ability to change size and speak human words, it had to be powerful.
Without the boar, Qin Ming knew he’d have had no choice but to go all out, using every desperate measure he had to face the dangerous darkness of the desert.
“Mountain master, are you interfering with Cui family matters?” Cui Hong asked cautiously.
The old boar snorted. “Who, me? Nah, I wouldn’t dare. The Cui family—a thousand-year-old household—famous throughout this endless dark world, respected by all creatures… I’m not stupid. I’m just making sure the kid gets past this stretch of road.”
Cui Hong’s expression shifted, torn between fear and frustration. He knew he couldn’t defeat the boar, and an old mountain master with no territory was the most troublesome kind. If provoked, it had nothing to lose—it could cause chaos and then disappear into the dark ends of the world, impossible to chase.
He nodded. “Fine. Since the mountain master has spoken, we’ll let this pass… for now.”
Meng Xing Hai chuckled. “Cui family brother, what’s your name? If you’re willing to let go of this blade prodigy, I’d be interested in taking him off your hands. What do you say?”
Cui Hong quickly figured out who Meng Xing Hai was. No wonder he spoke with such confidence—he was from another ancient family. And beside him was Li Qing Yue, a girl Cui Hong remembered well. Years ago, children of many top families had gathered in a great city, waiting for an otherworldly figure to come and choose disciples. This girl had been chosen by a renowned master.
Meng Xing Hai’s eyes glinted as he spoke. “I’ve heard a bit here and there. If you really push him into this desolate place, the Cui family might get a reputation for being heartless. That wouldn’t be good, would it?”
He gestured to Li Qing Yue. “You can’t just silence both of us, can you? After all, we’ve both seen everything.”
Cui Hong’s face hardened. A bloody conflict between ancient families? That would be disastrous.
Qin Ming’s fragmented memories started piecing together, connecting the dots. He spoke up quickly, “From now on, even if it costs my life, I won’t call myself a member of the Cui family. I’ll never return to that circle. From this day, I’m just Qin Ming.”
Two years ago, he hadn’t understood certain things, but now he did. Even with only faint clues, he was beginning to see clearly.
What Qin Ming wanted most now was to complete his fourth awakening, clear the fog of his past, understand what had happened—without needing anyone else to tell him.
Cui Hong sighed. “The Cui family isn’t heartless. I have a feeling that within a few years, you’ll be asked to come back.”
Qin Ming had no interest in responding to that.
Meng Xing Hai smiled. “In that case, maybe send a bird to let your family know. Acting like this without their approval might not be great for the family’s reputation.”
He then turned to Qin Ming, eyes filled with curiosity. “I heard about a blade master from this area, two hundred years ago. He was brilliant, but never found the right awakening method, and wasted his life. Even with his mastery, he couldn’t stay in this world long. From your presence, it seems you have his Sky-Severing Blade Intent.”
Qin Ming bowed, showing his respect. “That would be my master.”
Silence fell over the group.
Meng Xing Hai blinked, stunned. “Are you serious? That blade master… didn’t he disappear years ago? He must be long gone by now.”
Li Qing Yue looked at Qin Ming, bewildered. How had he changed so much in just two years?
“Chong He, don’t say things you can’t prove,” Cui Hong warned.
“My master lost his arm back then, but after creating the Sky-Severing Blade Intent, he defeated all his enemies and found peace. In his later years, he stumbled upon a rare resource in the mountains, extending his life and allowing him to start anew. He’s still alive, though he is indeed very old now.”
Qin Ming spoke calmly, describing what he had seen in the blade manual—the truth behind the old man’s disappearance, recounting his master’s words, even his appearance.
The old boar blinked. “Wait… he’s still alive?!”
Meng Xing Hai’s expression turned serious. He knew of some elders who, when at the end of their paths, sought out rare opportunities in deep mountains and swamps. Could this blade master have truly found such fortune?
Cui Hong’s eyes widened. If true, a blade master over two hundred years old… that would be extraordinary!
Qin Ming didn’t care if they believed him. His situation was dire enough—might as well bluff. Nothing to lose.
“Why don’t we just leave it at that for today?” the old boar said, hopping off Qin Ming’s hand and onto the ground. “Let’s get moving.”
Cui Hong watched silently, deciding to deal with Qin Ming once they got through this stretch of desert. But suddenly, his expression twisted in disgust. He sniffed, recognizing a familiar, pungent stench.
Meng Xing Hai and Li Qing Yue both frowned, holding their breaths as they stepped back.
In the dark, Qin Ming watched as the boar relieved itself, the yellow sand turning into a murky puddle beneath it.
Rumble!
The entire desert seemed to shudder, black fog swirling violently.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Let’s go,” the old boar said, nodding at Qin Ming to follow along.