Chapter 9: Golden Threads and a Garment of Jade
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
The pale night sky had almost given way to the shallow night when Qin Ming opened his eyes. The glow-stone set in the copper basin flickered warmly, and the house was quiet and still. Qin Ming’s throat felt dry, as if he’d just swallowed hot sand. He quickly scooped up a few wooden bowls of cool water, gulping them down until he sighed with relief.
At first, everything seemed ordinary—until he noticed a strange snugness to his clothes. They felt smaller somehow. Puzzled, Qin Ming hurried over to the doorframe where he’d been marking his height since he was little. Sure enough, the pencil scratch he’d made just yesterday was now below eye level. He had grown taller overnight!
Qin Ming stood there, amazed and a bit excited. During one night’s sleep, he’d experienced some kind of massive Awakening, like a sudden growth spurt fueled by powerful inner energy. He stretched his arms and legs, feeling a surprising vitality humming inside. Stepping into the courtyard, he tested his new strength by lifting two heavy millstones. He even managed to hold them both with a single hand, though just barely.
“Whoa,” he blurted out, eyebrows shooting up. “I’m, like, way stronger now. This is nuts.” He caught himself smiling. Four hundred pounds in one hand—maybe even more. Was this how the young fighters in the bright city felt all the time?
He stripped off his tight shirt and noticed that the scabs on his shoulder had vanished without leaving a single scar. Another Awakening sign. His body was healing so cleanly it was as if those old wounds had never happened.
Hungry now, Qin Ming set to cooking a hearty meal. He prepared a big pot of rich meat soup and grilled thick slabs of wolf steak—mutated meat packed with energy, perfect for fueling his changing body. He ate until he was full, washing it all down with warm soup. Sweat beaded on his forehead as a steady heat spread through his muscles.
Though he could feel that his Awakening wasn’t quite finished, he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to push himself further, to burn through every trace of weakness. With each bite he swallowed, he felt his strength rising. Moves that once seemed awkward or straining were now effortless, as if the power surging within him was guiding his limbs.
Soon a strange sensation began to stir under his skin. Golden spots shimmered faintly. If anyone looked closely, they would’ve seen delicate golden threads emerging from his flesh. They brought tiny drops of blood, but it didn’t hurt. It was more like his body was freeing itself from old impurities—like pushing out tiny splinters.
Qin Ming felt oddly cleansed, as if something deep inside him was tidying up, clearing away hidden poisons. The golden threads came out in groups, carrying away dark, dried impurities. His normal pores just weren’t enough. He watched these thin golden filaments weave patterns across his skin, each strand glinting like sunshine on a spider’s web. It reminded him of someone sewing a special, precious robe right onto his body.
A soft, milky-white mist began to swirl around him. He felt no real exhaustion, but the process demanded a lot of energy. Every time hunger nudged at him, he ate a chunk of grilled steak, then took a short rest before pressing on. Occasionally, he glanced at the old book Lu Ze had lent him, Night Meditation Techniques: An Introduction, to steady his mind.
The night slipped by in a haze of sweat and gentle trembling. Qin Ming’s entire body felt oddly tingly, as if he were a plant putting down fresh roots, his limbs filling with new life. At last, drowsiness overcame him. He knew that the final stage of this transformation would be a kind of deep sleep—a hibernation.
After a quick wash, he lay down. Through heavy eyelids he caught a glimpse of his own skin: a faint silvery glow beneath the golden threads, which had arranged themselves into tiny squares, like a carefully woven grid. It was as if he wore a robe of shimmering golden threads and silver mist.
His thoughts drifted. He remembered stories of ancient emperors buried in jade coffins, clothed in golden-threaded robes, hoping to live forever. Could some ancient technique lie at the heart of his Awakening? He knew the old “wild path” teachings he’d learned in childhood were unusual, but he never imagined his body would create these golden and silver patterns, like a regal garment. Perhaps the ancient emperors had once known of something like this, inspiring their golden burial robes.
He shook his head wearily, deciding not to dwell too much on impossible questions. He drifted into a heavy sleep.
When pale dawn finally broke, Qin Ming woke, feeling stiff as though he’d been wrapped in old, dried mud. In a sense, he had: the impurities pushed out overnight had formed a thin crust on his skin. He broke the ice in the water jar, heated some water, and scrubbed himself clean. Pulling on loose, fresh clothes, he stepped outside, feeling calmer and more grounded. His body felt cool to the touch, signaling that his Awakening was nearly complete.
He tested himself again: lifting the two millstones felt much easier than before. He even placed a heavy stone lock, more than a hundred extra pounds, on top of them. He grinned and said quietly, “Man, this is really heavy, but I can still do it!” He was holding over five hundred pounds in one hand. Not bad at all.
Lu Ze, a man who had once helped him, lived next door. Qin Ming hauled half a blade-horned deer, a donkey-headed wolf’s hind leg, and some ribs over to their courtyard. He knocked lightly and called out, “Hey, brother Lu, sister-in-law—open up! I brought some extra meat. Might as well share, right?”
Lu Ze’s wife stared wide-eyed. “Qin Ming, this is way too generous!”
Qin Ming shrugged, sounding very much like a teenage boy. “Ah, don’t stress about it. I can’t scarf all this down myself, and I’m heading back into the mountains soon. You guys helped me before, remember? Gotta return the favor.”
Wen Rui, their young son, beamed at Qin Ming. “Uncle Qin, you’re the best! Otherwise, we’d be stuck with empty bellies soon.”
Qin Ming ruffled Wen Rui’s hair. “Don’t worry, kiddo. While I’m around, you’ll never go hungry.”
Over in a corner, the mutated squirrel Qin Ming had caught was rattling its cage and squeaking in protest. It clearly hadn’t forgiven him for its capture.
Just then, Xu Yue Ping, the village chief, arrived. He looked to be in his forties, wearing a thick fur coat, his face broad and honest. “Ah, Qin! Word travels fast. I heard you had a bit of a breakthrough. Congratulations, my boy!”
He gave Qin Ming an approving nod. Everyone was curious to see how much stronger Qin Ming had grown now that his Awakening was nearly complete.
Lu Ze turned to Qin Ming. “You look taller and stronger. Did you finish your Awakening last night?”
Qin Ming was about to answer when, without warning, Xu Yue Ping’s hand lashed out like a chopping blade, aiming right for Qin Ming’s neck. It was so sudden and unexpected, at such close range, that most people would have taken the blow full on.
But Qin Ming dodged fluidly. “Whoa! Hey, what gives?” he blurted, instincts taking over. His hand shot up, catching the chief’s wrist with a sharp smack.
Xu Yue Ping’s eyes widened. “Your reactions! Far beyond the average Awakened.” He was genuinely startled that Qin Ming could evade an attack from almost no distance at all.
Liang Wan Qing, Lu Ze’s wife, gasped, realizing the chief had been testing Qin Ming’s reflexes. Xu Yue Ping tried to twist free, but Qin Ming’s grip was iron-strong, leaving the chief unable to budge.
Even Lu Ze and Liang Wan Qing could see that Xu Yue Ping was impressed. For someone who’d just Awakened, Qin Ming’s strength was astounding—perhaps nearing six hundred pounds with one hand.
Lu Ze burst out, excited, “Qin, you’re amazing! If you head to the bright city, you’ll fit right in with the best of them!”
Wen Rui clapped his hands. “Uncle Qin is the coolest!”
At that moment Yang Yong Qing hurried up, mentioning the arrival of the Mountain Patrol. Xu Yue Ping and Yang Yong Qing quickly left to handle village affairs. Before long, a messenger came for Qin Ming, telling him that all Awakened ones were needed at the village chief’s home to hear the Mountain Patrol’s report on the Great Mountain’s situation.
“Sure, I’ll be there,” Qin Ming replied, curious. “This sounds serious.”
He soon found himself at the chief’s house, which was buzzing with activity. Seven Awakened villagers, including Qin Ming, sat around a table lit by a glowing sunstone. Among them was old man Liu, who had seen more than seventy winters. The mood was tense but eager.
A big, bearded Mountain Patrolman named Feng Yi An cleared his throat and said, “We’ve got some strange happenings deep in the Great Mountain. The magnetic fields are going wild. It’s easy to get lost, and there are odd sights all around. Even the fire springs—where fearsome beasts once lurked—are nearly out. But there’s a new, more powerful fire spring forming far inside the Night Fog.”
Qin Ming nodded silently, putting together the clues. That explained why so many unusual beasts had been roaming closer to the village. The shifting environment had sent them fleeing from their homes.
Another villager asked anxiously, “Could it get worse? What if these powerful creatures break through into our lands?”
Feng Yi An raised a hand, smiling reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Top fighters from the bright city are on standby. They’ll be talking with these mysterious beings in the mountains and, if needed, they’ll hold them back. Meanwhile, we Mountain Patrol members are keeping watch. The higher-ups have sealed off the deepest areas, so if any strange critters try to slip through, they’ll have to get past us first.”
The villagers exchanged relieved glances. Feng Yi An’s casual confidence helped lighten their fears. Xu Yue Ping offered him a whole roasted rock goat, the smell delicious and comforting in the lamplit room.
The mention of the bright city’s warriors and possibly even noble-born young elites made Qin Ming’s heart stir. He wondered if he might one day stand among them. He listened carefully as Feng Yi An described unusual fields of golden crops deep in the mountain, gleaming through even the thickest mist. It sounded like a scene from an old legend.
After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill—Feng Yi An downing strong liquor and the others trying bitter tea studded with dried black ants—Xu Yue Ping turned to Qin Ming, proud as a father. “Feng, this is Qin Ming. Sixteen years old, just Awakened. He’s the most gifted young man in our village. I’m hoping we can send him to Red Glow City to study.”
Feng Yi An nodded, his face serious. “A Golden Age Awakening, eh? That’s a fine start, lad. You’ve got something special.”
Qin Ming smiled a bit bashfully. “Thanks,” he said, his voice sounding much like any teenage boy trying to sound humble yet proud. He sipped his tea politely, ants and all.
The gathering continued into the early morning, voices warm and lively. Eventually, Feng Yi An described great mysteries hidden deep in the mountains. “Have any of you ever seen a mysterious field deep in the mountains? All the crops are golden, and the mist can’t hide them. The brilliant golden light pierces the dark night sky—but whose food is it, really?”