Only that Heavenlight Force, there really were no instructions on how to cultivate it.
"Is the silk book describing the elevation of life itself, without any concrete techniques for protection or defense?" This thought left Qin Ming somewhat dazed.
By afternoon, at the brightest moment of shallow night, Qin Ming rubbed his temples. After studying all morning, his mind felt slightly fatigued. But he was fairly certain he had fully understood the new content on the silk book's pages.
When he practiced again, his movements were smooth and effortless, blending perfectly with the environment. His gaze was focused and clear, his hair flowing gently in the breeze, and his entire being exuded a sense of natural grace.
Most importantly, the warm currents inside him surged even more, and the silver ripples on his skin began to solidify slightly, as if starting to transform into "silver mud."
The silk book hadn't mentioned what level one might reach or what transformations might occur, so Qin Ming had no way to evaluate his current progress. He paused to rest, yet even just standing still, he radiated a quiet presence, gaining an added sense of poise.
"Qin, come out, we're heading into the mountains to visit the ruins," Xu Yueping called to him.
Qin Ming had originally planned to stay home and meditate on the silk book, but since he had already grasped it fully, he figured he could go out for a bit.
"What ruins?" he asked.
Xu Yueping replied with a grin, "The patrol team's old base! We're going to pay our respects to that 'wise mountain god', uh, I mean 'mountain monster', and see what traces he left behind." Then he lowered his voice, "And see if he left anything good behind."
This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment idea. The village leaders from several settlements had gathered in secret. After deciding not to plant Black Moon anymore, they agreed to go check out the site together.
"Let's go!" Qin Ming nodded.
Lately, even rebirthers from the villages would only dare to travel in groups when going deep into the forest. The woods were far too dangerous now. Not everyone was like Qin Ming, able to walk the mountains alone. In the end, it all came down to strength.
"There's a stash of good liquor here," Qin Ming called out to Xu Yueping. He knew this base well. He could still picture the flash of blades in the snowy night.
Xu Yueping and Yang Yongqing ran over, elated. Visiting the "ruins" was always about seeing if any supplies had been left behind. The villagers were all simple folk, too.
Old Liu grinned from ear to ear, his knees no longer weak. He actually leapt more than a foot high and zipped over with a whoosh.
Qin Ming laughed, "Grandpa Liu, how about that? I said I'd treat you to ten jars of good wine yesterday, and now we've found a whole stash. Let's split it up and take it back!"
"Good! Good! Good!" Old Liu repeated with joy, nearly tearing off the clay seals to start drinking on the spot.
"Why does it feel so satisfying digging up the patrol team's old base like this?" Xu Yueping chuckled nonstop.
Naturally, the noise drew attention from the other villages. In the end, Shuangshu Village took about thirty jars, and the rest were split among the others. Even though Qin Ming found it, he didn't keep it all for himself. Better to avoid drama later.
In truth, the patrolmen investigating the case had already been here. They saw the liquor but weren't interested, as there were more urgent matters at hand. Once the news got out, more people arrived. The patrol base was soon "looted".
"Could this man have wiped out the entire patrol squad?"
Qin Ming was stunned when he saw a portrait after returning to town. It was the bluish-faced man. To be fair, the illustration of him slaying a blood snake was quite striking. Someone in Yinteng Town distributed stacks of these portraits, warning every village to report any sightings immediately.
The patrol organization was no pushover. Its top leadership included a major figure from Chixia City.
"His name is Wang Nianzhu. He looked impressive… Who'd have thought he was that kind of person?" Qin Ming hadn't expected it. To see the man's portrait after killing him—and even learn his name—was surreal.
"Well, at least you didn't die in obscurity. Your face is posted in every town, and for a while, you were pretty famous, even if this place is remote." Qin Ming glanced a few times, then left. A man he had already crushed wasn't worth much thought.
"Still, I do wonder what family or group he came from. I hope the patrol can find out." He also thought of Golden Rooster Ridge and the Three-Eyed Sect. Definitely worth keeping an eye on.
That night, after eating more blood snake meat, the medicinal effects kicked in again. His entire body grew hot and began glowing. Everything was nearly identical to the last time. Eventually, he slipped into sleep, clad once again in the "golden thread jade garment."
Qin Ming saw himself as a child again. Though he wore tattered clothes and worn-out shoes, he had incredible determination, practicing the silk book's rebirth method again and again.
"If this method is so extraordinary, why is it said to be uncultivatable?" his younger self asked stubbornly, firmly unwilling to give up.
"Once, someone truly remarkable practiced the method in that book and died because of it. And he was one of the original creators." The rough hand gently traced the beast-hide cover of the silk book.
"Huh?" Young Qin Ming looked puzzled, his voice still childlike.
"Some paths shine too brightly. Others are murky and unclear. A few old masters weren't willing to accept that, so they tried to forge their way to rival those brilliant techniques. The theory was excellent, but in the end, they abandoned their past accomplishments, switched to this method, and either died, were maimed, or fled to the ends of the dark earth as their lives dwindled. If they couldn't do it, how can anyone else?" The whispering voice echoed.
"Then why leave it behind?" the child asked.
"Most of it was torn out. Only a portion remains, and even that requires the help of someone who's practiced it before. So just reading the silk book is fine."
"What about the rest that was torn away?" Young Qin Ming still refused to let go, as this was the only powerful method he had access to.
"It was burned."
The child fell silent, seemingly saddened, head lowered, staring at the holes in his tiny shoes.
Shallow night arrived. Qin Ming woke up. He let out a quiet sigh. He had thought he'd discovered a heavenly scripture, but he had been too optimistic. He needed to pay more attention to other advanced Qi cultivation techniques.
But he also felt puzzled. No one had helped him, yet he had managed to cultivate the first two pages of the silk book.
"So what if I succeeded? The rest has been burned. And even the method's creators couldn't complete it. They died verifying their work. After all these years, the others must be long gone too."
Qin Ming walked out to the courtyard, sensing the changes in his body. Thanks to spiritual materials, this second rebirth had been swift and intense. He had succeeded.
He now felt that even with just one arm, he could lift over a thousand pounds.
...
Two days later, news came from Cao Long, Wei Zhirou, and Mu Qing: the higher-ups and the top-tier creatures in the mountains were about to hold a final negotiation at the mountain's outer edge.
Many had already gathered there. Through the snow came a slow-treading donkey.
"Isn't that the mount of some bigwig from Chixia City?"
As it neared, people realized it wasn't empty. Something sat cross-legged on its back.
But it wasn't human. It was a pure white weasel, serene and still, like a meditating monk.
The very first creature to arrive was this bizarre and eerie presence, silencing the crowd.