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Novel: [Night Without Borders]
Chapter 26: [Faded Memories Reemerge]
Author: [Chen Dong]
Translator: [Shadow Knight AK]
Editor: [Shadow Knight AK]
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Qin Ming noticed that the his younger self was poorly dressed, but he was soon captivated by the booklet.
It was a thin, ancient volume. When he opened it, he found it was actually a Silk Book.
The animal hide cover had likely been added later. It was a dull color, rough and tough, designed to withstand the ravages of time and protect the true scriptures within.
The first page recorded the "unorthodox techniques" Qin Ming had practiced — a path he knew intimately.
A low murmur arose as he read the dense text.
Then, the calloused hand turned to the second page. The tiny scriptures continued from the first, but this time, new characters and patterns appeared, immediately capturing Qin Ming's attention.
He quickly memorized them.
Perhaps there was no need to memorize them at all.
These were faded memories from his childhood, now resurfacing as he underwent his Second Awakening.
His physical constitution had been greatly enhanced, and his mental awareness had grown stronger, brushing away the dust of time to reveal the scenes of the past once more.
He was reliving the Silk Book he had already read long ago.
Halfway between sleep and wakefulness, Qin Ming tried to turn to the third page, but his attempt failed.
The large hand did not help him open it.
At this moment, Qin Ming carefully examined the Silk Book, protected by tough animal hide.
Weathered by the passage of time, it had long lost its original luster, now faintly yellowed, exuding a sense of ancient beauty and bearing the weight of history.
It was indeed thin, likely consisting of only twenty pages or so.
Qin Ming tried several times to turn the page, but he couldn't open the third page.
He stopped trying and instead peered through the mottled veil of time, focusing on his younger self — a small figure clad in tattered clothes.
Even in this half-awake state, Qin Ming was moved. He realized his childhood had been marked by extreme poverty. His already faded clothes were patched in several places, the cuffs were worn thin, and when he looked down, he saw holes in his shoes.
He sighed, thinking of his later years.
Even his youth hadn't been easy.
He'd suffered from frostbite, gone hungry, and borne wounds and scars.
Two years ago, he'd collapsed outside Yinteng (Silver Vine) Town and been taken to Twin Tree Village.
"That year I was fourteen..." Qin Ming touched the back of his head, where a wound had once bled profusely.
He found himself awake, not reaching for his head in a dream.
His fingers brushed through his black hair, touching the spot that had once been bloody.
There was no scar left. It must have vanished during his first Awakening.
"My childhood self, my fourteen-year-old self — two pivotal moments, fragmented memories. Those faded faces often appear in my dreams."
It was during that fourteenth year that he had endured hardship and wandering, which was why he was now somewhat more mature than his peers.
Qin Ming looked outside as the dense night gradually receded.
He walked into the courtyard, inhaled a deep breath of the icy cold air, and reviewed his childhood memories once more, recalling every detail recorded on the first two pages of the Silk Book.
Then, he began to practice movements he had never tried before, along with techniques for regulating his breathing and mental state, studying them intently.
It was long before he stopped.
His body was still burning hot, but no longer glowing, appearing relatively normal.
"That rough, calloused hand..." Qin Ming recalled the hand's worn sleeve and the thick calluses, evidence of a life as impoverished as his childhood self's, far worse than his current circumstances.
The so-called "Big Hand" was something Qin Ming had perceived as large, powerful, and reassuring when he was a child.
He desperately wanted to see that small hand clasped in the Big Hand, to finally mend the ache of not having seen his family for so many years.
"Second Awakening hasn't ended yet. Tonight, I'll continue eating the Blood Serpent, which is rich in spiritual substance. As my physical constitution improves, my mental power will grow stronger too. Perhaps I'll even glimpse the past in my subconscious, uncovering more faded childhood memories."
Qin Ming's eyes lit up at these thoughts.
His energy surged, and he hefted a stone millstone in his hand, finding it surprisingly light.
He estimated he could now lift about 1,500 jin (approximately 750 kilograms).
As Shallow Night approached, Qin Ming rinsed his overheated body.
He decided not to hunt in the mountains today, choosing instead to study the newly acquired Silk Book and its scriptures at home.
"Why is it said that it can't be mastered?" he wondered, hoping the answer would come to him in a dream after midnight.
It was clear the Silk Book had a distinguished origin, having been carefully preserved to prevent damage.
The snowstorm had stopped, and the night sky had grown slightly brighter — a "clear day" in an era without the sun.
Qin Ming had thoroughly studied the Silk Book, even though he had only seen two pages.
The text was densely packed with tiny characters and intricate patterns.
More than half of the second page contained entirely new information for him, memories that needed careful contemplation and thorough practice to master.
"It's very ingenious," he murmured. "But it's a pity I can't compare it to the Intermediate Meditation Technique or Advanced Intent Qi Cultivation Techniques to determine its precise level."
In this remote region, Qin Ming lacked access to any Awakening Techniques other than the Silk Book.
The only other text he had read was the widely circulated Elementary Explanation of the Black Night Meditation Technique.
The Silk Book mentioned "Heavenly Light" only briefly, without explaining how to cultivate Heavenly Light Force, let alone the highly revered Tathagata Force.
Qin Ming frowned.
The Silk Book was undoubtedly extraordinary, yet why did it gloss over such a crucial concept as Heavenly Light?
He carefully reread the text, repeatedly practicing the movements in the courtyard.
Finally, he formed a theory: The Silk Book aimed to convey the most information with the fewest words.
By diligently practicing the techniques, Heavenly Light would naturally emerge from his flesh and blood, strengthening his essence, qi, and spirit.
However, the book offered no guidance on how to cultivate Heavenly Light Force itself.
"The Silk Book seems to be about elevating life's level, but it doesn't mention any specific methods for self-cultivation?"
This speculation left Qin Ming somewhat bewildered.
In the afternoon, when Shallow Night was at its brightest, Qin Ming rubbed his temples.
After half a day of study, his mind felt slightly fatigued, but he believed he had thoroughly grasped the new content in the Silk Book.
When he practiced again, his movements were fluid and unconstrained, blending seamlessly with his surroundings.
His gaze was focused yet clear, his hair fluttering in the breeze, his entire being radiating a sense of natural ease.
Most importantly, the warm current within him surged, and the silver ripples that had appeared on his skin solidified slightly, as if transforming into "silver mud."
The Silk Book didn't specify what level he would reach or what state he would enter, so Qin Ming had no way of judging his progress.
He stopped to rest, but even standing still, he exuded a natural, effortless grace that added to his refined aura.
"Xiao Qin, come out! We're going into the mountains to visit the ruins," Xu Yueping called out to him.
Qin Ming had originally planned to meditate on the Silk Book at home, but since he had already thoroughly studied it, he decided to go out.
"What ruins?" he asked.
Xu Yueping chuckled. "The Mountain Patrol Group's base! Let's see what traces that wise Mountain God — no, Mountain Monster — left behind."
He lowered his voice. "And see if there's anything good left."
This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision.
The leaders of several villages had secretly gathered to discuss abandoning the cultivation of Black Moon Medicine Herb, and together they decided to investigate the base.
"Let's go!" Qin Ming nodded.
Lately, even the Awakeners from each village had to travel in groups of several just to venture slightly deeper into the forest.
The wilderness had become incredibly dangerous.
Not everyone dared to wander alone in the mountains like Qin Ming.
Ultimately, it all came down to strength.
"There's a pile of fine wine here!" Qin Ming called out to Xu Yueping.
He knew the base well, and the flash of blades in the snowy night still lingered in his memory.
Xu Yueping and Yang Yongqing immediately rushed over, their faces lighting up with delight.
After all, the purpose of "visiting the ruins" was to see if anything useful had been left behind.
The men from the villages were equally straightforward and practical.
Old Liu's face lit up with a wide grin, his legs suddenly feeling strong again.
He leaped over a dozen feet into the air and shot forward with a whoosh.
Qin Ming chuckled. "Uncle Liu, what do you think? Yesterday I promised to treat you to ten jars of fine wine, and today we've stumbled upon this whole stash. Let's divide it up quickly and take some back."
"Excellent, excellent, excellent!" Old Liu repeated, practically itching to break the mud seals and taste the liquor.
"Digging up graves right under the Mountain Patrol Group's noses... I find this incredibly satisfying, hehe," Xu Yueping couldn't stop laughing.
The other Awakeners from the surrounding villages were naturally alerted.
In the end, Twin Tree Village took away thirty-wine jars, while the remaining portion was distributed among the other villages.
Though Qin Ming had discovered the wine, he couldn't keep it all to himself.
This would prevent anyone from causing trouble later.
In fact, the Mountain Patrol Group's investigators had already been here.
They had discovered the fine wine but, preoccupied with their mission and unimpressed by the liquor, had ignored it.
That evening, news of the discovery spread, drawing even more people to the Mountain Patrol Group's outpost, which was soon overrun by "grave robbers" from all sides.
"Could this man really have killed everyone in the Mountain Patrol Group?" Qin Ming wondered, staring at a portrait he had seen upon returning from the mountains.
It was indeed the man with the ashen complexion.
To be fair, his sword-wielding display against the Blood Serpent was quite impressive.
Someone from Yinteng (Silver Vine) Town had sent out a stack of portraits, instructing each village to be vigilant and report any sightings immediately.
The Mountain Patrol Group wasn't a soft organization. Its highest-ranking member was a prominent figure from Chi Xia City.
"His name is Wang Nianzhu. He looked so dashing and spirited, I never imagined he'd turn out to be this kind of person," Qin Ming admitted.
He hadn't expected to see the man's portrait after killing him, let alone learn his name.
"Well, at least you didn't die anonymously. Your portrait is plastered all over the towns, making you a local celebrity for a while, even in this remote area," Qin Ming remarked, glancing at the portrait before moving on.
A man whose head had already been blown off wasn't worth dwelling on.
"Still, I hope the Mountain Patrol Group can figure out where he came from and what organization he belonged to," he mused.
He also made a mental note to keep an eye on Jin Ji (Golden Rooster) Ridge and the Three-Eyed Sect.
Late that night, after eating the Blood Serpent meat, the medicinal properties of the herbal stew quickly took effect.
Qin Ming's entire body grew scorching hot again, and he began to glow, just like the previous time.
Finally, he drifted into slumber wearing his Golden Thread Jade Armor.
Qin Ming saw his younger self again.
Though poor, with tattered clothes and shoes, the child seemed remarkably persistent, practicing the Awakening Techniques from the Silk Book over and over.
"If it's so extraordinary, why can't I master it?" The young Qin Ming was stubborn and resolute, refusing to give up.
"Once, a truly remarkable person cultivated the techniques in the Silk Book, and it killed him. Yet he was one of its founders." The large hand traced the animal hide cover of the Silk Book.
"Ah?" The young Qin Ming, still a child, was utterly baffled.
"Some paths are too dazzling. Others have uncertain futures. A few old men, unwilling to accept this, joined forces to study the techniques, hoping to rival those brilliant paths."
"The theory was good, but in the end, they abandoned their previous achievements and switched to this technique."
"Some died, some were injured, and others, with their lifespans dwindling, fled to the dark ends of the earth."
"They all failed."
"How could those who came after succeed?" The low whisper echoed.
"If it can't be mastered, why was it left behind?" the child asked.
"The parts that couldn't be cultivated were torn away, leaving only a small portion. But even that requires guidance from someone who has already cultivated these techniques to enter the path. So this Silk Book is just for looking at."
"What about the torn-away portion?" Young Qin Ming still refused to give up, as this was the only decent cultivation method he could obtain.
"Burned."
Young Qin Ming fell silent, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
He lowered his head, gazing at his shoes with toes peeking through.
As Shallow Night arrived, Qin Ming awoke.
He sighed softly.
He had thought he'd obtained a heavenly scripture, but it seemed he had overestimated his luck.
He would need to pay more attention to other Advanced Intent Qi Cultivation Techniques in the future.
Yet he was also lost in thought.
Without anyone to guide him, he had still managed to cultivate the first two pages of the Silk Book.
"Even if i succeeded! What good would it do? The rest of the Silk Book was burned. And the technique's creator failed, dying after personally verifying its flaws. After all these years, the other few who practiced it must have long since passed away."
Qin Ming rose and stepped into the courtyard, feeling the changes within him.
This Second Awakening had been swift and intense, fueled by spiritual substance, and he had succeeded.
He now felt as if even with one arm, he could wield a thousand pounds of force.
...
Two days later, word arrived from Cao Long, Wei Zhirou, and Mu Qing: the high-ranking officials and the top-tier creatures from the mountains were about to hold their final negotiation at the entrance to the mountain range.
At this moment, many people had already gathered, waiting.
Across the snowy ground, a donkey ambled leisurely through the snow.
"That must be the mount of some important figure from Chi Xia City, right?"
As the donkey drew closer, people noticed it wasn't empty. A creature was seated on its back, but it wasn't human. It was a pure white weasel, utterly still, like an old monk in deep meditation.
The first creature to appear was so bizarre that many onlookers fell silent, unsure how to react.
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END OF CHAPTER
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