Chapter 71: The Thunderfire Refinement Temple
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Inside the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, Qin Ming staggered violently. It felt as though roaring waves were crashing against him, and he was but a small leaf floating on the ocean. If it hadn’t been for the tightly packed crowd around him, he might have fallen to the ground.
The golden hall, etched with the marks of countless years, radiated an overwhelming, turbulent energy that made him dizzy and disoriented.
“No! I want to live. I can’t die here!”
“A’lan, wait for me. I’ll come back and marry you. I can endure the erosion of celestial light!”
“I’m already 120 years old, at the end of my life. I long for the celestial light’s blessing to step into a higher realm and extend my days… but it’s futile!”
In an instant, Qin Ming resonated with dozens of emotions—each one intense, filled with resentment and unwillingness in the face of death. They surged toward him like a flood, battering his mind.
The emotional waves came one after another, like a relentless tide crashing into him. If it had been just one emotion, he might have been able to observe the person’s life and savor the experience. But with so many all at once, it was like a torrent threatening to overwhelm him entirely.
Qin Ming quickly withdrew from the resonance state. If he stayed in it any longer, he feared his mind would collapse under the pressure. He understood the situation well. Over the years, countless people had died in the Thunderfire Refinement Temple. Every one of them faced despair and pain in their final moments, leaving behind powerful emotions of unwillingness that accumulated into a terrifying force.
Rubbing his temples, Qin Ming tried to recover from the discomfort. His heart remained unsettled, with waves of thought crashing within him.
Aside from the temple’s collection of ancient manuals filled with the wisdom of past generations, this place also offered the possibility of spiritual resonance. The thought sparked a flurry of ideas in Qin Ming’s mind.
Gazing at the millennia-old temple, he wondered: Had any Awakeners in history managed to channel their dying spiritual energy into secret techniques? He shook his head, doubting it. Most people, in their final moments, succumbed to fear, pain, and despair. It was unlikely that even one in a hundred had the willpower to resist with a specialized method.
Cautiously, Qin Ming tried again, quickly tapping into over twenty intense emotions. As he suspected, they were overwhelmingly negative. In his perception, these chaotic emotions felt like a vast black sea. He couldn’t help but yearn to fish out a few “treasures” hidden within the murky waters.
“Next time,” he murmured.
For now, it was impossible. The temple was packed with people, and Qin Ming was being swept along with the crowd as they moved forward. Soon, he’d have to leave.
“I’m never joining a crowd like that again,” Wu Zheng groaned when they returned to the inn. He had lost his other shoe in the chaos and trudged back barefoot in the snow.
Even though he had undergone his First Awakening and was physically strong, it had taken a toll. He’d had to wrap his feet in his coat to keep warm.
“I didn’t even get a proper look at Red Glow Mountain or the Thunderfire Refinement Temple!” Wu Zheng grumbled, clearly annoyed.
Xu Sheng chuckled. “When spring arrives, will you join the outings? Every noble family’s Miss will be there. Aren’t you curious to see them?”
Wu Zheng stammered, “Uh… we’ll see when the time comes.”
Turning to Xu Sheng, Qin Ming asked, “Xu Brother, judging by the current situation, it seems like the Spring Thunder might appear in a few days. If I want to channel the celestial light, shouldn’t I head up the mountain early? Otherwise, I might miss the opportunity.”
Xu Sheng’s expression grew serious. “Are you seriously considering it? The dangers there are beyond description. Even saying ‘a hundred deaths to one survival’ doesn’t do it justice. You’re still young. Don’t throw your life away on impulse.”
Wu Zheng chimed in, “Qin Brother, don’t be reckless! We’re not even twenty yet, and you’re in the prime age for Awakening. Why rush?”
Xu Sheng was adamant in his opposition, trying to dissuade Qin Ming from taking the risk.
Feeling cornered, Qin Ming decided to share a bit of his past. “When I was at Black and White Mountain, I accidentally stumbled into a unique celestial light node and managed to survive.”
He figured there was no point in hiding this, as the locals were already aware of the incident.
Wu Zheng’s eyes lit up. “Ah, right! My grandfather mentioned it when you visited my house. He said you were incredibly lucky to have survived.”
“But the celestial light in the Thunderfire Refinement Temple is far more intense than anything you’ve faced. You won’t make it,” Wu Zheng warned.
Qin Ming could tell Xu Sheng genuinely cared about his safety. It only made him more determined, but he couldn’t fully explain his abilities.
“Xu Brother, you’re a good person. But even with your warnings, I’ve decided to go.”
Xu Sheng sighed and reluctantly revealed some advice. “You’ll need to go up the mountain early. When the time comes, I’ll tie a rope and drag you back myself.”
It was clearly a veiled way of saying he’d be there to retrieve Qin Ming’s body.
Qin Ming smiled. “Xu Brother, just send someone else to drag me out. Pretend I’m a corpse and take me away. I’ll make myself unrecognizable so no one knows it’s me.”
Xu Sheng was stunned. “What are you planning?”
“I’m just trying to avoid being recognized if I go back a second time. You’re well-connected as a former Traveling Merchant, so your presence might draw attention. Just send someone else the first time,” Qin Ming explained matter-of-factly.
Xu Sheng couldn’t believe his ears. This kid was already planning for a second trip? Was he fearless or just foolish?
“I’m not joking,” Qin Ming said seriously. He trusted Xu Sheng enough to ask for his help.
Seeing Qin Ming’s confidence, Xu Sheng started to believe he might actually survive. Later, he even found himself going along with the plan, helping Qin Ming arrange for someone to “collect his body.”
The next day, Qin Ming invited Xu Sheng to the finest inn for a meal, thanking him for his support. Xu Sheng didn’t know what to say, while Wu Zheng was at a loss for words.
Both of them were convinced that Qin Ming had a nine-in-ten chance of dying on Red Glow Mountain. Yet here he was, cheerfully hosting a thank-you dinner.
During the meal, Qin Ming brought up another request. “Xu Brother, do you know of any once-prosperous but now-declined families around here? I’m willing to pay to borrow their secret manuals.”
Wu Zheng shot him a strange look, feeling oddly offended as if Qin Ming’s request had unintentionally insulted him.
“Confident, aren’t you?” Xu Sheng said, his gaze sharp. “You really think you’ll survive the Thunderfire Refinement Temple and use the opportunity to merge a new force technique into your Celestial Light Force?”
Qin Ming nodded slightly, his calm demeanor betraying his agreement. He had pieced together an important truth: combining Spring Thunder with Celestial Light could birth not only unique spiritual matter, which facilitated Awakening, but also a potent essence of Celestial Light. Stronger even than the legendary Three-Colored Flower.
For those who could endure, this was a chance to enhance the quantity and quality of their Celestial Light Force. That was the perfect moment to integrate diverse techniques.
Xu Sheng tilted his head thoughtfully. “Alright, I’ll help you look into it. What kind of technique do you need? This isn’t something you can haphazardly combine.”
Qin Ming hesitated. He wanted to say any technique would do, but caution won out. “Something forceful and robust. If that’s unavailable, I’ll settle for alternatives.”
He had recently been practicing Yellow Mud Palm and had already mastered its Soft Force component. The technique was extraordinary, likely the result of fusing multiple Celestial Light Forces. Adding one or two more techniques wouldn’t waste this rare opportunity.
The next day, Xu Sheng returned with news. He had heard of a declining family still holding onto the fragmented remnants of an ancestral technique. “The situation is… complicated,” he explained.
Qin Ming followed him to the Sun Family’s dilapidated estate. As they arrived, the crumbling courtyard walls and near-collapsing house made it clear this family had fallen far.
Xu Sheng sighed. “The Sun Family used to own a grand residence. But fate can be cruel. About ten years ago, the family elder was gravely injured and soon passed. His son died two years ago in an ‘accident,’ and the daughter-in-law… she left. Now it’s just an old lady raising her three-year-old grandson. Life’s been harsh.”
When Qin Ming finally met the old lady and her grandson, his heart stirred. The grandmother’s face was deeply wrinkled, her spirit worn away by hardship. Her eyes were dull, lighting up only when they landed on her grandson.
He learned she had once been a wealthy young lady who married into the prominent Sun Family. But tragedy struck one after another, leaving her with nothing but this child. Qin Ming couldn’t shake the thought that if someone was truly targeting the family, the boy would also be at risk.
The child reminded Qin Ming of himself as a boy. At three years old, wearing patched clothes, the child was silent and stubborn, practicing a rudimentary force technique with incredible tenacity.
Memories flooded back to Qin Ming—faded, painful memories of his own poverty-stricken childhood. Raised by an elderly man, likely his grandfather, he had been taught the fragmented techniques recorded on ancient silk scrolls.
“Take it,” the old lady said, handing over a worn secret manual. “It’s worthless now. People kept trying to steal it, and it’s fallen apart. I let anyone who wants to see it take a look, free of charge.”
Life had forced her to rely on neighbors’ charity. In return, she shared the manual’s secrets with their children.
Qin Ming took the manual, thanking her earnestly. Sitting on a broken chair, he examined its contents. The beast-skin cover was aged, but the pages inside—only a dozen or so—were not ancient. The technique was fragmented and incomplete, with rough, hasty handwriting describing it.
Yet something about the cover and pages resonated deeply with him. Strong emotions seemed embedded within them.
Focusing, Qin Ming’s mind connected with the lingering emotions in the cover. He glimpsed flashes of the past.
A scene emerged: an elderly man, coughing blood, confronted members of Hall of Righteousness, his face filled with anguish. “You’ve gone too far. My Sun Family is in decline, and you seize this chance to steal our secrets. Ge Qian Xun, I thought you were my brother, but you delivered the killing blow!”
The elder clutched only the cover of the family’s ancestral manual as he collapsed onto a desk. Desperate to preserve the technique’s knowledge, he scribbled feverishly but could only manage twenty pages before succumbing to his injuries.
The fragmented manual Qin Ming now held was the remnant of that tragedy.
“So this is the truth of that bloody incident a decade ago,” Qin Ming murmured. He suspected the deaths of the old lady’s son and others were also tied to Hall of Righteousness.
Focusing again, he resonated with the emotions in the cover, piecing together the complete technique.
The manual described a hammer technique, remarkable in its simplicity and power. It included Hammer Force and Whip Force, two distinct Celestial Light Forces. Only by mastering both could one unlock the hammer technique’s true potential.
Though it was no match for legendary techniques like Yellow Mud Palm or Intercepting Blade Intent, Qin Ming was pleased. These additional techniques would still be valuable in his journey.
Looking at the struggling grandmother and grandson, Qin Ming saw shadows of his past. From his pouch, he took out thirty Daylight Gold coins, flicking them one by one into the ground in front of her. “Madam, I mean no disrespect. Hide these well and use them sparingly when needed. If I master this hammer technique, I promise to write you a new manual to restore its glory.”
He also placed a small stack of silver coins into her trembling hands before leaving quickly, ignoring her attempts to stop him.
Outside, Xu Sheng raised an eyebrow. “Done already?”
“Yes,” Qin Ming replied. “Let’s go.”
The old lady rushed to follow them but stopped, overwhelmed by tears as they disappeared into the distance.
As spring warmed the land, the Red Glow Mountain transformed. Snow melted swiftly, and beams of light danced in the forest. Qin Ming climbed the mountain, which had grown quieter in recent days. Visitors seeking Celestial Light baptisms were fewer now.
A bustling Mountain God Temple sat atop the mountain, attracting pilgrims and curious onlookers. One muttered, “These days, even seeking death has a queue.”
Hearing the remark, Qin Ming chuckled, unfazed. He finally had the chance to admire the mountain’s rugged beauty—its cliffs, jagged stones, and wild terrain. Once spring fully bloomed, the mountain would be awash in fiery red blossoms, a sight he looked forward to.
Daily, he entered the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, enduring waves of resentful energy and searching diligently for hidden treasures amid the chaotic emotional maelstrom.
One day, a low rumble echoed in the distance. Spring Thunder.
Qin Ming looked up sharply. It’s finally beginning.