Chapter 78: Alone
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming exhaled a deep breath, his chest tightening as memories of the past flooded his mind. Those days felt like an illusion—a dream spun out of someone else’s life. But no, every moment had been real, each etched into his history. He gripped the White Jade Alloy Blade tightly, trying to steady his emotions.
“Stay calm,” he murmured to himself, forcing his thoughts to settle. He sat back down, cross-legged, and focused on finding his center. Though barely twenty, Qin Ming’s life had already been a winding path of trials and tribulations.
For any ordinary youth, such a journey might have led to despair or even collapse. But not for him. He revisited the past, combing through the finer details to foresee future risks. He needed to understand the personalities and schemes of those around him because his story was far from over.
Only recently, his Cui Father and Cui Mother had plotted to confine him to a remote corner of the world.
“Cui Fifth Uncle always wore that serene smile,” Qin Ming recalled. “He encouraged me to stick to practicing the Awakening Method from the Silk Manuscript, warning me to avoid dabbling in other techniques. It seemed like sage advice, but it was just another way to cut off my progress.”
He remembered consulting Cui Father and Cui Mother, seeking their guidance. Both had echoed Cui Fifth Uncle’s suggestion. But when Cui Chong Xuan, the Cui family’s golden child, expressed interest in the Silk Manuscript, Cui Father had rebuked him. “One person practicing this method is enough,” he’d said, promising to secure the fearsome Six Imperial Heart Sutra for Cui Chong Xuan instead.
When Qin Ming had expressed interest in the Sutra, Cui Father had only looked at him calmly and asked, “Do you not trust in yourself or the Silk Manuscript?”
By the time Cui Chong Xuan turned thirteen, he’d undergone three rounds of Awakening, encouraged by the elders. He was already consuming the Three-Colored Flower and fusing four types of Celestial Light Force.
Reflecting on those times, Qin Ming realized the strange behaviors he had dismissed. Though he’d lived with the Cui family for years, he had resisted viewing them with suspicion.
But the signs were always there. The Cui family praised him so extravagantly that their words often brought assassins to his door. Qin Ming vividly remembered how, after each deadly encounter, the family’s first reaction wasn’t fear or concern but laughter.
Cui Father and Cui Mother were unshaken by his close calls. Instead, they celebrated, commending the skilled warriors who had defeated his attackers. Their ultimate goal, it seemed, was to clear away any threats to the Cui family’s legacy.
Now, standing alone, Qin Ming saw the Cui family as a mountain piercing the clouds, a towering force he couldn’t ignore.
“My Silk Manuscript is still with them,” he thought, clenching his fists. That manuscript wasn’t just his grandfather’s final gift—it was his lifeline, his key to the future.
Though scorched and incomplete, the manuscript carried remnants of the emotions and wisdom of past masters. Through Resonance, Qin Ming believed he could unlock its full potential.
The Cui family was a challenge he couldn’t sidestep. To retrieve the manuscript, he would have to return to Clear River City, a move that would undoubtedly stir new conflicts.
“Two years ago, when the Cui and Li families clashed, the Cui family must have taken a hit,” he reasoned. “Still, they should recover quickly. The Li family likely suffered greater losses.”
The Cui elders, who spearheaded the attack, were already nearing the ends of their lives. They’d targeted the Li family’s young talents with reckless abandon, determined to shatter their future. Qin Ming had witnessed their madness firsthand, a testament to their unshakable loyalty to the Cui name.
“This is the depth of a Millennial Clan,” he muttered, awed by their resilience.
In the Land Beyond Boundaries, many of the strongest warriors hailed from these ancient families. Even if a Millennial Clan fell, they rarely vanished completely unless their outposts in the Land Beyond Boundaries were destroyed.
Long ago, a prominent dynasty had dared to extinguish a Millennial Clan, only to face its wrath. Survivors from the Land Beyond Boundaries revived the family, and the dynasty itself fell mysteriously soon after.
Now, the Cui family wasn’t Qin Ming’s only concern. The Li family, a rising power threatening the Millennial Clans, loomed over him too.
His encounter with Li Qing Xu, the feather-clad youth who had nearly killed him, was far from over. Li Qing Xu’s personality, Qin Ming knew, wouldn’t allow him to leave grudges unresolved.
“Where did his hatred for me begin?” Qin Ming wondered, frowning.
After some thought, he traced it back to his betrothal to the Wang Family’s direct descendant, a girl Li Qing Xu seemed to have known for years.
“My life has been one disaster after another,” Qin Ming thought bitterly. “Abandoned, betrayed, framed, and now banished to the outskirts, barred from the path to Awakening…”
He took a deep breath and exhaled, forcing out his frustration.
That engagement wasn’t his choice; it was a marriage alliance between the Cui and Wang families. His only memory of the girl was her beauty and her radiant smile. They’d spent a single day together, during which she struck him as clever and charming.
Afterward, Cui Father had scolded him harshly, warning him to keep his distance.
Clearly, Li Qing Xu’s hostility stemmed from jealousy and the larger rivalry between the two families. Perhaps he also wanted to eliminate a future competitor in the Land Beyond Boundaries.
“You should go after the real Cui Chong He!” Qin Ming thought angrily. He almost wished he could channel Zhou Lin, Xu Sheng’s sharp-tongued friend, and curse endlessly.
Calming himself, Qin Ming’s thoughts turned to his grandfather. Over a decade had passed—what had become of him?
The Cui family must have chosen his grandfather deliberately, noting their resemblance. But his grandfather had been an ordinary man, powerless against their schemes.
Now, barred from Clear River City, Qin Ming had no direct way to seek answers. He would need to rely on indirect routes.
He rose from his seat at the inn and stepped outside, his thoughts turning to City Lord Meng Xing Hai, who had once offered him assistance.
As the morning sun scattered the dark mists, Red Glow City shimmered with fiery light, its streets brimming with warmth and hope.
Stopping at a small restaurant for breakfast, Qin Ming paid his bill and turned to leave—only to pause, heart skipping a beat.
An elderly woman from the Sun family stood nearby, pulling coins from her sleeve to buy a meat pie. She handed it to her three-year-old grandson, her wrinkled face softening with a rare smile.
But two men approached, their voices sharp and accusatory.
“You have money for pies but can’t pay your debts?” one growled.
The old woman froze. “I owe you nothing!” she protested.
“Don’t lie!” the other sneered, shoving her. She stumbled, barely catching herself from falling.
The elderly woman stumbled, but before she could hit the ground, a man caught her—not to help, but to plunge his hand into her pocket.
“Not bad! Living well enough to have a few coins, huh?” he sneered, snatching the copper pieces from the woman’s frail hands.
“Leave my grandma alone! Don’t hurt her!” a small boy shouted, his voice trembling but defiant.
“Get lost, brat!” one of the men barked, swatting at the child. He didn’t care that he was striking a kid; it was clear his blow would send the boy tumbling to the ground, possibly smashing his teeth on the hard dirt.
But before the man’s hand could connect, another hand—strong, quick—grabbed his wrist mid-air. The attacker cried out in pain. Qin Ming had arrived.
“Why do they keep targeting the Sun family? Such a shame,” someone in the crowd murmured, watching the scene unfold. “The old lady struggles to raise her grandson on her own. Life is hard enough.”
“Who’s that boy? He dared to stand up to the Hall of Righteousness,” another whispered, though no one dared to intervene.
“Who are you, and what do you think you’re doing?” one of the thugs from the Hall of Righteousness demanded, his tone cold.
“These two have been through enough. Don’t push them any further,” Qin Ming replied evenly. He had pieced together the situation from the murmurs around him—these men were from the Hall of Righteousness, relentless in their pursuit of the Sun family’s secret manuscript. And now, their cruelty disgusted him.
He felt a pang in his chest as he thought of his own circumstances. His family had their own silk manuscript, a relic of a once-glorious lineage now fallen into ruin. His situation wasn’t much better than the Sun family’s. Perhaps it was even worse.
Qin Ming had set out that day to visit the City Lord’s mansion, hoping to address an urgent matter regarding his grandfather. But seeing this injustice unfold stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t stand idly by. His palm struck out once, then again—a swift application of his Yellow Mud Palm technique. The two thugs staggered backward, seemingly unharmed, though within days they would cough up blood and find themselves near death.
“Leave now,” the old woman pleaded, her voice thick with worry. “Don’t get yourself involved.”
Qin Ming turned to her. “Don’t worry, ma’am. The new City Lord has arrived. Haven’t you heard? He personally took down Golden Rooster Ridge. He’s going to root out scum like these.” He knelt to hand the crying boy—his tiny fists still clutching a piece of meat pie—back to his grandmother.
“Don’t try to scare us!” one of the Hall of Righteousness thugs blustered, though their bravado was starting to waver.
“Oh? You don’t believe me?” Qin Ming asked sharply. “Fine. Come with me to the City Lord’s mansion. Let’s see if you’ll keep your lives.”
The two men hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.
“Ma’am, take your grandson home. You don’t need to worry about this,” Qin Ming reassured the old woman. “I have business to attend to at the City Lord’s mansion anyway.”
Suspicious but unwilling to risk further confrontation, the men secretly followed Qin Ming, hoping to uncover whether his threats held weight. Their doubts evaporated when they saw him stride confidently into the mansion gates.
An Audience with the City Lord
The guards at the gate initially regarded Qin Ming with suspicion, but his composed demeanor and unflinching gaze gave them pause. They relayed his arrival, and soon he was ushered inside.
It had been over twenty days since Qin Ming last met City Lord Meng Xing Hai. The man greeted him with a curious smile.
“I thought you might have left for another city,” Meng said, studying him. “Not bad. It’s only been a short while, yet you seem stronger—your energy more focused.”
“Uncle Meng, it’s good to see you,” Qin Ming said respectfully, bowing as a junior would to an elder. “I’ve just recovered from some injuries, so I seem a bit more spirited.”
The reception hall was vast but unadorned, its simplicity accented by antique porcelain jars, bronze artifacts, and scroll paintings hanging on the walls. Meng Xing Hai, dressed in a plain blue robe, appeared scholarly at first glance, but his sharp gaze and the lethal precision of his blade techniques marked him as a formidable figure.
“You’re quite the bold one,” Meng said, chuckling. “Took it upon yourself to stir the pot, taking down Golden Rooster Ridge on your own.”
Qin Ming said nothing. After all, Li Qing Yue had seen him in action that night; there was no use denying it.
“Forgive me for the trouble I’ve caused, Uncle Meng.”
Meng waved off his concern. “Have a seat. It’s no trouble. In truth, the former City Lord Ling Xu and I both wanted to deal with them. We just hadn’t yet lured out the Golden Bandits.”
“I acted impulsively and disrupted your plans,” Qin Ming admitted, sitting down.
Meng Xing Hai smiled faintly. “It’s no bad thing to act on righteous impulses. I admire your spirit. I hope you can keep that fire alive and not lose your way, like so many others with great talent. Such a shame…”
“Uncle Meng, if that’s your advice, I won’t let you down.” Qin Ming leaned forward, his voice steady. “Actually, I just witnessed something troubling…”
He recounted the incident with the Hall of Righteousness. Meng Xing Hai listened attentively, his expression shifting from intrigue to approval.
“You’re quite the earnest one, aren’t you?” Meng mused. He knew better than to take Qin Ming’s sincerity at face value. The boy had likely been hardened by the intrigues of the Cui family. Still, his candor was refreshing.
“Well, since you’re so keen to help, I’ll give you some authority. Investigate the matter thoroughly. If necessary, act decisively.” Meng tossed Qin Ming a token bearing his insignia.
Qin Ming caught it, nodding firmly. “Thank you, Uncle Meng. I came today not only to report this but also to thank you for your help back at the desert’s edge.”
“And is it just me you’re thanking?” Meng teased.
“Of course not. I know Qing Yue must have spoken up for me too.”
Meng Xing Hai chuckled. “Sharp as ever. Well, what else is on your mind?”
Qin Ming hesitated, then asked, “Do you know where my grandfather went all those years ago?”
Meng’s expression turned serious. “That’s a tough one. Even if I asked the Cui family, they wouldn’t tell me the truth. Your best bet would be Cui Old Seventh, but he’s in some otherworldly realm now, out of reach.”
“Do you have no questions about your time with the Cui family?” Meng probed.
Qin Ming sighed. “I did once, but now I understand. The real Cui Chong He will step into the light when the time comes.”
Meng was taken aback. “No wonder some in the Cui family don’t trust you. They’re afraid you’ll rise to power, uncover the truth, and turn against them. They haven’t underestimated you.”
“Am I mistaken about anything?” Qin Ming asked.
“Not mistaken, just uninformed,” Meng replied, sipping his tea. He shared what he knew: Cui Chong He had been discovered in the otherworldly realm, and his resemblance to Cui Father grew stronger with age. Moreover, letters between him and the Cui family had been intercepted.
“And his teacher?” Qin Ming asked. “How powerful is he?”
Meng Xing Hai’s eyes gleamed. “Powerful enough that no one in the outer realms dares touch Cui Chong He now.”
“Well,” said Meng Xing Hai, his voice steady and thoughtful, “it’s said that Cui Chong He’s senior apprentice brother once taught him in place of their master. That old senior had been in seclusion for years, but now he’s taken a half step forward in his cultivation. His abilities are impossible to measure now. He’s officially accepted Cui Chong He as his final disciple—his precious protégé—and has declared he won’t take on anyone else.”
Qin Ming fell silent at this, a faint shadow crossing his expression. The differences in people’s fortunes were astonishing.
“The Cui family forbade you from returning to Clear River City or going to Thousand Star City, and they even tried to sever your path to awakening,” Meng Xing Hai continued, his tone sympathetic. “It’s definitely because the truth about Cui Chong He’s identity was exposed.”
He then added, “The Wang family in Thousand Star City is furious—absolutely livid. They’ve found out the Cui Chong He they met before was an imposter, and they were completely kept in the dark.”
Qin Ming gave a bitter smile. “Do you think the Wang family might resent me, too?”
Meng Xing Hai hesitated before replying, “Cui Chong He himself isn’t entirely pleased. He heard about you traveling with the Wang family’s direct descendant. People from outside the boundaries saw you together back then. Let’s just say… he wasn’t too happy about it.”
Qin Ming clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling over. He almost wanted to draw his blade then and there. Why? Why was everything his problem? Everyone else had reconciled, yet he was left to bear the brunt of it all, enduring every ounce of the suffering.