Chapter 74: Shoulder to Shoulder with Legends
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
“Once this awakening is complete, will I finally remember everything?” Qin Ming’s voice was steady, but his mind swirled with questions he had long tried to piece together.
He had his suspicions about his past, yet many parts remained shrouded in a thick fog, waiting to clear. He knew he was once Cui Chong He, a true heir of the Cui family. But why had he left the family? Why had he been so gravely injured and left to recover in the remote Black and White Mountain?
What haunted him most was his family’s determination to exile him to the edges of civilization. They wanted to bury him far from the light of day, severing him from the life and circles he once knew.
Though he was now Qin Ming, not Cui Chong He, he couldn’t let go of the need to uncover the full story.
Sitting quietly, Qin Ming calmed his turbulent thoughts. After a simple wash, he lay on his bed and allowed sleep to take him, his mind prepared to embrace whatever came in his dreams.
As he drifted off, a silvery glow emerged, coating his body like a layer of molten silver. Then, golden threads appeared, stitching intricately across his form, weaving a garment of “Golden Silk and Jade Cloth.” Even his hair was not spared; golden needles threaded through the strands, sewing them together in an elaborate dance that made his entire head radiate with light.
In his sleep, Qin Ming’s brow furrowed slightly as if aware of the process. A faint creaking sound echoed from his skull, followed by waves of pain and an intense heat. He stirred briefly, his subconscious recognizing the phenomenon as a natural progression rather than a threat. Reassured, he sank back into deep slumber.
Three spots on his skull glowed brightest, remnants of the injuries inflicted by the Feather-Clad Youth long ago. The golden needles pierced his scalp, delving deep into the bone before mending and reinforcing it. The silvery glow acted like a medicinal balm, smoothing away scars and lingering traces of trauma. With each golden stitch and silver wash, his old wounds were eradicated, leaving no trace of his former injuries.
Although still unconscious, deep within his mind, Qin Ming sensed the profound significance of the “Golden Silk and Jade Cloth.” It wasn’t just about healing; it embodied the essence of revival—perhaps even resurrection itself. Was this the true meaning behind the process of human awakening?
Later in the night, Qin Ming entered a state between wakefulness and sleep. He saw the silk manuscript again and glimpsed his younger self, waiting for the rough hand to turn the pages.
The fourth awakening centered on perception. Beyond heightened senses, it sharpened instinct, offering life-saving intuition in moments of danger. Since this awakening also focused on the mind, the three fractured points on Qin Ming’s skull continued to emit light throughout the night, as golden needles mended the bones and the silvery balm sealed the surface. The spiritual essence harvested from Thunderfire Celestial Light surged toward him, enriching the process.
Finally, the rough hand moved, flipping the manuscript to its fourth page. It detailed the culmination of sensory and instinctual training and hinted at the techniques required for the fifth awakening.
By dawn, the city of Red Glow was bathed in light. Unlike the unbroken night outside the city, here the distinction between day and night was carefully maintained. Wealthy cities like Red Glow adjusted the brightness of their fire springs to mimic the sun’s zenith at noon or the fiery hues of sunset.
Standing at the window, Qin Ming watched as the light crept across the horizon, far brighter than the perpetual twilight of the Black and White Mountain. He felt no sense of wonder like Wu Zheng often did; instead, familiarity washed over him. These scenes were fragments of his past, now reassembling themselves with startling clarity.
Taking a deep breath, Qin Ming stepped into the courtyard with his White Jade Alloy Blade. His emotions simmered just beneath the surface as he practiced his techniques. The air echoed with the crackling thunder of his strikes.
Blade techniques, spear techniques, hammer techniques—he blended the three combat methods into one seamless style. To Qin Ming, every weapon was merely an extension of his body.
“Brother Qin’s killing intent seems heavier than usual,” Wu Zheng muttered from within the inn.
Indeed, the flood of memories made it impossible for Qin Ming to remain unaffected. His past was returning, piece by piece, forcing him to confront it all.
“Brother Qin, I brought breakfast! Are you alright?” Wu Zheng called, stepping into the courtyard.
Qin Ming’s blade danced through the air, sometimes slicing like lightning, sometimes shattering into dozens of mirrored shadows, and sometimes slamming forward like a heavy hammer.
“I’m fine,” Qin Ming replied. “This awakening has stirred something within me. I need to move to keep the restlessness at bay. If only a five-time mutated beast from Golden Rooster Ridge would appear right now—I’d take it down with a single strike.”
He grinned, his tone both light and confident. In his mind, he envisioned piercing the beast with one thrust or smashing it apart with one blow.
Not long after, Xu Sheng arrived at the inn, curious about Qin Ming’s state after his Thunderfire baptism.
“I have to say,” Xu Sheng remarked, his expression tinged with disbelief. “Your vitality feels stronger than mine. What exactly is going on with you?”
“My body is nearly fully renewed, and my perception continues to improve. I’m in a fully awakened state now, without holding anything back. That’s why my aura seems so intense,” Qin Ming explained casually.
Xu Sheng was stunned. “Are you saying the strength you’ve been showing wasn’t your full power?”
Even Wu Zheng’s expression shifted.
“Don’t worry,” Xu Sheng insisted. “Come with me. Let’s test your body’s limits after four awakenings. As for perception, it’s trickier to measure, but we’ll see what’s possible.”
“I’d rather not draw too much attention,” Qin Ming replied. His current situation was precarious. Until he gained enough strength, allowing such information to spread to places like Clear River City or Thousand Star City could have dire consequences.
Still, Qin Ming trusted Xu Sheng, who already knew about his time in the Thunderfire Refinement Temple.
“It’s fine. We’ll go to a friend of mine. She has equipment to measure physical strength,” Xu Sheng assured him, his curiosity piqued.
When Qin Ming met Xu Sheng’s friend, Zhou Lin, he recognized her immediately. She was the same spirited woman who had accompanied them into the mountains to harvest snow lotuses, only to lose out to rivals. True to form, she greeted them with a stream of colorful language before leading the way into the city.
Zhou Lin’s training hall was renowned for teaching people how to embark on the path of Awakening. Business thrived, with most of the students being teenagers. In a city where every inch of land was precious, the hall occupied an impressive space.
Moments later, Xu Sheng stood frozen, utterly petrified by what he was witnessing. The scene before him seemed beyond belief—Qin Ming, who had undergone four Awakenings, effortlessly lifted a weight of 4,500 jin.
Wu Zheng was equally astounded, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Qin-ge, are you sure this is just four Awakenings? Could it be six… or even seven?” he stammered, clearly shaken by the display of sheer power.
Xu Sheng muttered to himself, “So, it really is possible. The ancient records weren’t exaggerating—they weren’t trying to mislead future generations. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“What do the records say?” Wu Zheng asked, his curiosity piqued.
“In one of the ancient texts,” Xu Sheng explained, “there’s a mention of a young prodigy from the past. During his first Awakening, his arms wielded nearly a thousand jin of strength. It’s a terrifying level of talent.”
Wu Zheng grew excited, exclaiming, “The legends are becoming reality! Someone like the youth from the ancient records is right here, in front of me!”
Then, as if correcting himself, Wu Zheng quickly added, “Wait, no, I did the math—Qin-ge’s strength during his first Awakening must have been over 1,100 jin.”
Xu Sheng felt completely overwhelmed, as if his world had been turned upside down. “Qin-ge, was your strength really that extraordinary during your first Awakening?” Wu Zheng asked, his voice trembling.
“I didn’t test it precisely,” Qin Ming replied casually, “but it should have been more than a thousand jin.”
Xu Sheng sighed in amazement. “Qin Ming’s strength back then must have surpassed 1,100 jin. For other Awakeners, encountering someone like him is like meeting a living legend.”
He then shifted the topic. “Spring is almost here. Those ancient sects, mysterious organizations, and the prestigious academies in dazzling lands will all start recruiting disciples. Have you decided where you want to go yet, Qin Ming?”
“There’s no rush to talk about that,” Qin Ming replied, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. “I don’t know much about them, and there’s still time. I can make a decision before midsummer.”
Qin Ming’s mind was in disarray, fragmented memories flooding back and slowly piecing themselves together. Most of the images were almost fully restored, with only a few gaps left to resolve.
Just then, Zhou Lin appeared, her expression skeptical. “What are you three up to? Did you all work together to move the lapis lazuli monument—the pride of my training hall?”
Xu Sheng laughed heartily, avoiding her question.
On the way back, Qin Ming stopped by a traditional bookstore to purchase a stack of “Night Reports,” a compilation from the past three years. Unlike official bulletins, which were restricted to the elite, Night Reports were privately run and accessible to the general public.
“These reports are too broad,” Xu Sheng remarked. “They don’t include sensitive details, and most major events are just summarized.”
“That’s fine,” Qin Ming said. “I just want a general overview of the significant events from the past two or three years.”
Back at the inn, Qin Ming locked himself in his room. He didn’t leave again, choosing instead to wait for his Awakening to fully conclude while flipping through the Night Reports. He focused mainly on major events and anything related to the Cui family.
“Empires rise and fall, but the millennial clans endure,” Qin Ming murmured.
Some of the ancient clans had survived for two or three thousand years. The Night Reports noted that these families were nearly impossible to shake, having weathered countless wars and upheavals caused by aberrations. Though they had suffered heavy losses, they never truly fell.
“Two years ago…” Qin Ming swiftly searched for the information he needed, cross-referencing it with the increasingly clear memories in his mind.
Two years ago, the Cui family had faced a significant upheaval. However, the Night Reports didn’t delve into the underlying reasons, merely stating that two major powers had briefly clashed before retreating.
From two years ago to the present, Qin Ming reviewed the timeline of major events. Finally, he set the thick stack of Night Reports aside and stared at the hazy images forming in his mind.
He saw towering cities bathed in twilight, sacred mountains shrouded in ethereal mist, and countless familiar faces appearing one by one—parents, uncles, aunts, siblings, and many other clan members. They all surfaced in his memories.
Next came a young man in feathered robes, Li Qing Yue, and old friends and acquaintances. One by one, their figures approached him.
Qin Ming watched calmly, as though he were observing someone else’s story unfold—a tale of joy and sorrow, tragedy and triumph.