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Novel: [Night Without Borders]
Chapter 1: [Eternal Night]
Author: [Chen Dong]
Translator: [Shadow Knight AK]
Editor: [Shadow Knight AK]
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That day, the sun set and never rose again...
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Eternal Night... The world has been plunged into darkness, like an unfathomable abyss threatening to devour everything.
Daylight had long since become a relic of the past, a mere legend.
Across the vast frozen wasteland, icy winds howled, and blizzards raged, burying the land under drifts half a man's height.
Twin Tree (Shuangshu) Village lay half-submerged in snow.
There were only forty or fifty households here; the village seemed forgotten by time.
In the darkness, the rows of houses were barely visible as indistinct silhouettes.
Amidst the howling wind, many rooftops trembled precariously, as if on the verge of being torn away.
Qin Ming, weakened by hunger, woke with his stomach growling incessantly.
In the frigid night, the mere thought of food made him salivate uncontrollably.
It wasn't just steaming meat dishes or succulent fruits; even the thought of a cold, hard flatbread made his mouth water, a sweet taste flooding his tongue.
The bone-chilling cold permeated everything, both inside and outside the house, the suffocating darkness pressing down like a physical weight.
Qin Ming wrapped his tattered blanket tighter around himself, but even the warmth of the heated bed couldn't ward off the bitter cold.
Each breath felt like inhaling shards of ice, scraping painfully against his lungs.
He forced himself to stop thinking about food, lest the acidic bile in his stomach and mouth rise up.
After calming his emotions, he suddenly realized that his mind was remarkably clear, no longer clouded and muddled as it had been.
Could his "strange illness" be receding?
Though starved and freezing, the glimmer of hope after enduring a long, incurable illness brightened his eyes as he awaited the arrival of "Shallow Night."
As time passed, the wind gradually subsided, and the swirling, goose-feather-like snowflakes dwindled into scattered flurries.
Movement stirred in the neighboring courtyard, followed by voices.
It was the young couple, Lu Ze and Liang Wanqing.
"Where are you going?"
"Are you going to bring food to Qin Ming again?" Liang Wanqing's voice rose sharply.
"He's just recovered from a serious illness. He's only sixteen or seventeen, living all alone. It's quite pitiful," Lu Ze murmured.
"Do you even realize we're running out of food? If this continues, our two children will starve!" Liang Wanqing's voice trembled with emotion.
"The blizzard has stopped. We'll find a way to manage," Lu Ze replied, gazing into the pitch-black sky and earth.
...
Hearing the couple's argument, Qin Ming felt deeply guilty and resolved to refuse Lu Ze's kindness.
In these harsh times, every household was struggling.
He rose from the heated bed and put on his cotton-padded clothes but still felt cold.
He retrieved an old fur coat from the cabinet, wrapped it around himself, and paced around the dark room, rubbing his hands together.
After his severe illness, his once slender frame had become gaunt. His shoulder-length black hair had lost some of its luster, and his delicate features were pale. Yet his clear eyes shone with vitality, radiating a resolute spirit despite his weakened state.
A month ago, he had barely managed to escape the mountains. At that time, his hands and feet were somewhat blackened.
And he had been bedridden ever since.
As for his companions, they all died on the day of their return.
Stricken with a "strange illness," many had believed Qin Ming wouldn't survive.
Yet he endured it and was now showing clear signs of recovery.
Even now, the memory of the unknown dangers lurking in the mountains sent shivers down his spine.
The darkness outside began to shift, like ink diluting in clear water.
"Shallow Night" had arrived - what remained of daylight.
Evidently, this was only marginally better than "Deep Night."
The world remained shrouded in darkness, distant objects barely visible.
The courtyard gate creaked open as Lu Ze arrived, his sturdy frame moving with purpose. He wielded an iron shovel, clearing a path through the snow with swift, practiced strokes.
Qin Ming pushed open the snow-sealed door and called out, "Brother Lu!"
Lu Ze carried a glowing cloth bag. He tipped it over a stone basin in the snow, and a pile of red stones tumbled out with a crisp, ringing sound, their light piercing the night.
These were "sunstones", named for the hopes they embodied in this dark age, now illuminated the courtyard.
Lu Ze looked surprised.
"Xiao Qin, you seem much better."
Qin Ming invited him inside and explained truthfully that he was no longer feeling drowsy and believed he was finally recovering.
Lu Ze remarked on Qin Ming's resilience, noting how rare it was to survive the mountain's "strange illness."
He poured the remaining glowing stones from the bag into a copper basin in the room, instantly filling the space with radiant warmth.
The sunstones were taken from a "Fire Spring".
Though they glowed with fiery intensity, their surface temperature was far lower than body heat.
They would automatically extinguish after several hours and needed to be returned to the Fire Spring for rejuvenation.
"Here!" Lu Ze handed over a food box.
Qin Ming had been bedridden for a month, his food supplies long exhausted. He had relied entirely on Lu Ze's generosity.
Recently, after overhearing Lu Ze and his wife arguing, he learned their own situation wasn't much better, leaving him feeling deeply indebted.
"Eat it while it's hot," Lu Ze said.
Lu Ze was a practical man who valued gratitude; he remembered how Qin Ming had called out his name repeatedly, guiding him back when Lu Ze was lost in the dark, boundless forest.
The sight of the steaming black bread made Qin Ming's mouth water with intense hunger.
"Why are you just standing there? You're still recovering. Starving yourself won't help. Don't be so polite," Lu Ze said, pressing the food box into Qin Ming's hands.
"Brother Lu!" Qin Ming finally relented, tearing off a piece of the rough-textured bread.
He devoured it ravenously, savoring its sweet, savory flavor.
"Call me if you need anything," Lu Ze said, turning to leave.
As the hunger subsided, Qin Ming felt his spirits lift and his body's discomforts fade away. He was certain his long illness was finally lifting.
He decided to step outside for some fresh air and a walk.
Pushing open the courtyard gate, he stepped onto the street.
The air was bitterly cold, each breath forming a white mist in the air.
It was Shallow Night, the equivalent of daytime in this era.
The glow of sunstones flickered in every home, casting a faint light across the streets.
"Qin Ming, are you feeling better?" someone called out.
"Xiao Qin, let me take a look," Granny Zhou from North Street said, grabbing his arm and scrutinizing him from all angles.
She noted his improved complexion compared to their last encounter.
Qin Ming greeted them with a smile, assuring them he was indeed recovering quickly.
There weren't many people at the intersection, but all wore expressions of disbelief.
Could someone actually recover from the "strange illness"?
"Xiao Qin, even if you're feeling better, don't rush outside," Granny Zhou warned, her gaze fixed on the ink-black sky and earth beyond the village. "It's still very dangerous out there."
The other neighbors also looked worried.
The poor harvest had made food scarcity a critical issue; if things continued this way, people would starve.
Qin Ming noticed that Granny Zhou, once so kind and warm, now looked pale and frail, as if a strong gust of wind could knock her over.
After the others left, Granny Zhou carefully pulled a few dried sweet potato slices from her pocket and pressed them into Qin Ming's hand.
Qin Ming quickly pushed them back.
The elderly woman looked hungry herself - how could he possibly accept her meager rations?
Each household had cleared the road near their homes, but patches of snow remained, crunching underfoot. Qin Ming walked forward, his breath misting in the cold air.
As he approached the village entrance, he stopped.
Before a large courtyard lay a small threshing ground. A Black Goat, as tall as an adult's shoulder, was pulling a stone mill, grinding silver-grained mutant wheat into fine particles.
Not everyone was starving.
Clearly, the family at the village entrance was doing quite well.
Qin Ming stared at the Black Goat, his eyes burning with hunger. With even basic sustenance a struggle, he hadn't tasted meat in a long time, and the craving was overwhelming.
The Black Goat was impressively large, its thick horns giving it a slightly menacing appearance.
Sensing Qin Ming's gaze, it seemed startled, its tail drooping instantly.
"Xiao Qin, you've recovered?"
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," a stocky middle-aged man with a thick beard said, standing at the courtyard gate, assuming Qin Ming was looking at the mutated grain—Silver Wheat—beneath the millstone.
He continued, "With so many mouths to feed, we're running through our supplies quickly. This is our last bag of grain."
"Uncle Yang, you're amazing," Qin Ming said with a smile, though he didn't believe for a moment that this was their last bag of Silver Wheat. "You manage to take care of your whole family even in these harsh times."
After greeting Yang Yongqing, Qin Ming made his way to the edge of the village.
The "Fire Spring" lay ahead, casting a bright glow over the area.
The spring had been enclosed by a knee-high stone wall, forming a square pool about five meters wide.
Inside, a red light pulsed.
Even during this blizzard season, though the Fire Spring was nearly dried up and no longer gurgled forth, flames still flickered around it.
Two trees stood within the pool, giving Twin Tree (Shuang Shu) Village its name.
One tree bore black leaves, while the other's were snow-white, neither withering in the bitter winter.
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END OF CHAPTER
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