Chapter 72: Almost Rising from the Dead
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
It was that time of year when the Rising Ground Light was at its most magical, shimmering all across the wild fields as light rain gently fell from the sky. The heavy, dark clouds were easy to see, and the first spring thunder rumbled in the distance, with faint lightning flickering on the horizon.
With a loud whoosh, Qin Ming suddenly found himself surrounded by a whole crowd of people. Men and women rushed into the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, all of them looking nervous.
“What’s the rush? It’s just the first rumblings of spring thunder. We’re still a while away from the real blast. How things develop depends on the Ground Light,” said Old Zhao, who really did show up. He was seventy-two and had once boasted at the Drunken Glow Restaurant that he would risk his life in the Thunderfire Refinement Temple this year, hoping for some miraculous renewal, like a dead tree sprouting new leaves.
“You young ones are too impatient. You don’t usually come to Fire Field, you don’t observe the Rising Ground Light, and you don’t understand the seasonal rhythms. Sure, the underground Fire Spring’s light rain has triggered a response from the heavens, but it still lacks that crucial bit of firepower,” Old Zhao lectured, shaking his head.
A group of elderly men approached, already wearing their burial clothes. It made the young adults in the temple feel uneasy—it was too morbid.
“No need to hurry; we’re definitely going to be waiting a while,” Old Zhao continued, sounding oddly cheerful. “You’ve still got time to write your wills, have a bit to eat and drink, and maybe even decide if you really want to go through with this. Don’t cheat yourself before the end. Heck, you could even reconsider whether you want to die at all.”
The older men, led by Old Zhao, not only wore their burial clothes, but they also had beautiful jade ornaments and trinkets they loved—things they intended to “take with them.”
“Are you planning to cremate yourselves in the Thunderfire Refinement Temple?” asked a bearded man with a bad temper, feeling like the old guys were mocking them.
Old Zhao laughed. “Young man, are you upset? There’s no ill will here. Based on past experience, if even one of us survives out of all these years, that’s considered pretty good. So, we’re likely going to be companions on the Yellow Springs Road. Might as well get to know each other now, and get along.”
The younger crowd glared at him, but they couldn’t argue. He was right, after all, even if his words stung.
“If I had known, I’d have dressed in gold and silver, too,” one of the younger men muttered. “If I die here, at least I wouldn’t have cheated myself.”
Just then, an elderly man with almost no teeth shouted toward the temple door, “Hey! Did they bring my Golden Phoebe coffin yet?”
The younger crowd just stared, speechless. These old guys had clearly even arranged their burial items and plots.
“Don’t be shy! Come, eat and drink a bit. We’re all ‘death buddies’ here, right? No need to stand on ceremony.” Another old man waved them over, already calling for people to bring out plenty of fine wine and dishes.
The younger ones were silent. They couldn’t match the old men’s carefree attitudes. It was like they saw life as one big dream, and they were ready to calmly and willingly end it.
One young man asked, a bit annoyed, “You’ve got your burial clothes and coffins ready, you know there’s almost no hope—so why go through all this pain? Why not stay whole and avoid being struck by lightning?”
“How do you know unless you try?” Old Zhao replied. “What if it works out? In this world, nothing’s ever a sure thing. Who wouldn’t want to be that ‘one’ who makes it?”
The crowd settled down, sixty-nine of them in total—about the usual number for this annual gathering. They began eating and drinking, talking about their lives. Some spoke of regrets, others shared happy memories.
Qin Ming kept glancing toward the Golden Hall entrance. Where was Xu Sheng’s body collector? Hopefully, they wouldn’t mess this up; Qin Ming had a bad feeling about it.
“Hey, kid,” one of the older men called to him, “you look pretty young. Why are you risking your life so soon?”
Qin Ming’s black hair hung loose, covering most of his face, and his cheeks were dirty, but it was still clear that he was young.
He sighed. “I don’t have much of a choice. There’s a millennial giant beast watching me from afar, and I have no idea what it wants. If I don’t quickly raise my strength, I won’t be able to control my fate.”
He wasn’t holding back. With death just around the corner, there was no point in keeping secrets.
“You look fifteen, maybe sixteen,” Old Zhao said, turning to another quiet boy nearby. “Why are you here, so young?”
The boy’s name was Qian Cheng. He stared blankly ahead as he answered, “They say I’m stupid. They bully me, beat me, and make me do things for them. I don’t want to be kicked and slapped anymore. Grandma’s gone, and I’m all alone, so I figured I’d take a chance here.”
Old Zhao sighed deeply. “Kid, why don’t you leave? Come to my place. I can set you up with a job feeding the horses.”
Qian Cheng shook his head. “No. Pity doesn’t last forever. Kindness fades with time.”
Qin Ming looked over, surprised. The boy wasn’t as clueless as he seemed.
“The thunder’s already rumbling—why hasn’t it struck yet? It’s torture!” grumbled a fierce-looking man with tattoos covering his face, giving off the vibe of a criminal.
Noticing others staring, he added, “What are you looking at? I’m just a death row prisoner. They sent me here to take the lightning strike. If I survive, I won’t be executed.”
“A medicine man—lightning meat,” an old man muttered under his breath.
“What did you say?” the tattooed man asked.
“Every year, nobles do this,” the old man explained. “They send death row prisoners here, hoping to collect a bit of the heavenly light left in them. Later, they feed the bodies to the aberrations.”
“Not always,” another elder said. “If someone’s got strong teeth and is savage enough, they might just eat it themselves.”
The fierce man went pale. He slumped to the ground, muttering, “Might as well wait for the executioner’s blade.” First, he’d have to survive the lightning, and then he’d either be fed to aberrations or end up in some noble’s stomach. It was a miserable fate.
“I’m not doing this! I’m leaving!” he shouted, standing up.
“Sit down,” a voice called from afar. “Your family took the money. Your son’s in school now. You’re gonna back out at the last minute?”
The man sat back down, defeated. He wasn’t the only one—there were over a dozen people with the same hollow look in their eyes, all of them sent here by nobles or rich people.
Qin Ming, full from eating, began training in the Golden Hall, practicing a technique called Hammer Force. It was powerful—it could evolve into the famous Thunder Force. Qin Ming was amazed. Hammer Force was a composite skill, incorporating multiple types of Celestial Light Force. It was devastating when used against giant beasts, causing their flesh to explode.
“Hey, Little Qin! You can still change your mind,” Xu Sheng called out, arriving in disguise and bringing along the body collector, who looked like he’d almost overslept.
Qin Ming shook his head, whispering that he’d never felt better. He’d made progress with the Sun family’s Hammer and Whip Force.
He’d been upfront with Xu Sheng before, especially since he had to instruct the body collector to pull him out of the Golden Hall—dead or alive—after he took on four waves of heavenly light.
Spring thunder rumbled in the distance. Two days passed before lightning truly appeared over the area. Light rain drizzled, the Rising Ground Light shone brilliantly, and the world looked as bright as day.
Many had gathered on Red Glow Mountain—this happened every year. After spring thunder came, people lined up here to die. Most had come to watch the “spectacle,” but a few nobles were waiting for their “lightning meat” to be brought out.
The Mountain God Temple was packed, all eyes on the lightning atop Red Glow Mountain.
Finally, the spring thunder struck. It boomed above the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, arcs of lightning crisscrossing the bright metal tiles, blinding and terrifying. Balls of lightning fire rolled over the scene, shocking everyone.
What was even more terrifying was the Celestial Light that followed, descending along with the lightning—so dazzling it pierced through buildings, sinking into the mountains.
The Thunderfire Refinement Temple’s structure was well-crafted, able to conduct and weaken the lightning. But it struggled to withstand the Celestial Light from beyond.
The combination of Celestial Light and lightning birthed an extremely rare and spiritual substance that was drawn into the Golden Hall.
Qin Ming watched as the first wave of thunder and Celestial Light passed—half the people collapsed. Some were blackened and motionless, while others turned bright red, like they’d been cooked.
Qin Ming felt the intense heat of the Celestial Light as it entered his body. It was like boiling water coursing through him, trying to cook him alive.
When the second wave hit, only a few were left standing. Qin Ming saw Old Zhao, seventy-two, explode.
With the third wave, Qin Ming’s whole body screamed in pain, and he let himself fall to the ground, blending in. Everyone else was down, too, and lying on the ground was just as good for absorbing the Celestial Light and spiritual essence.
Far away, some people had already begun pulling on ropes, sobbing as they knew their loved ones hadn’t made it.
When the fourth wave struck, the hall became a hellscape. Corpses that hadn’t been pulled out were torn apart by the light. Near Qin Ming, Old Liu’s severed leg lay next to an old man’s arm. The burial clothes they wore were burnt to almost nothing.
The Celestial Light was truly terrifying, but at the same time, Qin Ming could feel the intense spiritual essence entering his body. He began using the Silk Script Method to regulate his state, channeling the Celestial Light to fuse with his own.
Suddenly, something felt wrong. The fifth wave had come, but where was that body collector? Qin Ming saw Old Liu’s half-body being dragged away, but he was still here.
What was that guy doing? Qin Ming cursed silently.
The sixth wave of mixed lightning and rare spiritual substance fell, and Qin Ming snapped. Was that guy trying to get him killed?
He couldn’t take it anymore. He was ready to jump up and run for it.
He was alive, and he wasn’t about to let an unreliable body collector get him killed. If he had to blow his cover, so be it.
From afar, someone called out to the body collector, “Hey, buddy! We’ve all pulled our employers out—whether in one piece or not. You still haven’t moved?”
“They’re not gonna make it anyway,” the body collector replied. “Early or late, it’s all the same. But I’ll pull him out now, I guess. Wouldn’t want him to be completely shattered—his family might cause trouble and dock my pay.”
Finally, he moved.
Qin Ming was about to sit up—he had no choice but to act like he’d come back from the dead. He was going to chop that body collector up when he got out of here.
But just as he was about to get up, the special rope around his waist tightened, and he began to be dragged out. He gritted his teeth and endured it.
Then he wanted to curse again—why was the guy pulling so slowly? Had he not eaten? Qin Ming really wanted to take him out.
The seventh wave of thunder and Celestial Light fell, and Qin Ming caught a bit of the “afterglow” as he was finally dragged out of the hall.
Immediately, he activated the Light Shroud technique, pretending to be dead.
Qin Ming let out a sigh of relief. With all that rich spiritual essence now in his body, he was confident he’d achieve his fourth Awakening, and finally recover those lost memories.