Enclosed by stones, the Fire Spring steamed with rising mists, appearing exceptionally brilliant in a world drowned in endless night.
Qin Ming crouched down and fished a glowing stone out of the pool. It was smoother and more lustrous than red coral, radiating multi-colored light in every direction.
Every household's sunstones came from the Fire Spring. Once a stone's light died out, it could be placed back here to regain its glow after a period of time.
Though the pool was filled with a fiery red radiance as dazzling as molten magma, its temperature was far below that of human skin.
The shimmering surface rippled with dancing flames; it was neither true fire nor ordinary spring water, but an extraordinary substance.
In this era, daylight had vanished and night reigned eternal, divided only into shallow night and deep night.
In such an age, the Fire Spring was of paramount importance.
Whether mutated crops like silver wheat or ordinary staples like ground potatoes, every crop required the waters of the Fire Spring to grow.
Moreover, humans deprived of the Fire Spring's presence for prolonged periods would fall ill.
It was, without question, the very foundation of human survival.
Even in this sunless world, four distinct seasons could still be discerned.
Spring and summer marked the Fire Spring's active phase, when it bubbled and surged forth to meet the needs of farming.
Winter was its dormant, depleted period. In Twin Trees Village, for instance, though the pool still shone brightly, it could only be used to nourish sunstones for illumination.
Overall, in an age without daylight, people lived by chasing fire.
Such a conspicuous beacon in the dark naturally drew the covetous gaze of various creatures lurking in the shadows, but fortunately, each kept to its own territory, preserving a tenuous balance most of the time.
Twin Trees Village was short on food mainly because monstrous birds had raided them during the harvest season. When their beaks struck the wheat stalks, they were like scythes, stripping several clusters bare with a single peck.
Add to that an ant infestation and certain human factors, and winter had brought the village to the brink of starvation.
It was currently shallow night, when the darkness was relatively pale and bursts of earthlight occasionally flared in the distance, rendering the hazy outlines of the dense forest faintly visible.
Once deep night fell, nothing could be seen; all things sank into silence, and the darkness turned chillingly dreadful.
Qin Ming wondered when he could venture out to resolve the desperate food shortage.
He gazed out into the wilderness. It was pitch-black, offering no view of distant sights. The snow had long since piled chest-high, making for a brutally harsh environment.
Here at the village entrance, the Fire Spring illuminated a bright sanctuary.
A cold wind swept past, stirring ripples across the sixteen-foot-square fire pool. Within the pool, the twin black and white trees rustled, shaking loose accumulated snow that drifted through the fiery glow like sparkling embers.
The leaves of the two trees possessed a jade-like texture, impervious to the bitter chill, though aside from warding off mosquitoes in summer, they served little practical purpose.
Feeling the chill of snowflakes drifting down his collar, Qin Ming snapped back to reality. No matter what, he needed to nurse his body a little longer; the wilderness outside was far too perilous.
He retraced his steps. The lights of village homes flickered, while behind him, the wilderness was steeped in abyssal black, withered and desolate, like a colossal beast waiting to devour everything.
Standing in the courtyard, Qin Ming practiced a sequence of specific movements. His motions were extraordinarily deft and fluid, ingrained into instinct after years of daily practice.
After a long while, sweat beaded on his forehead, and warmth coursed through his body. Only then did he stop.
He went into his room and retrieved a miniature crystal vial. Only a thumb's length, it was exquisitely carved, transparent, and delicate, containing an azure liquid flecked with ice crystals.
Handling it with extreme care, he held it up against the fiery glow cast by the sunstone.
Engraved on the tiny vial were two characters: Mineral Essence.
The liquid inside was an intoxicating blue. With a gentle swirl, blue mist drifted within the vial, lending it a dreamlike allure.
Qin Ming suppressed his impulse and did not open the vial. Newly recovered from a grave illness, taking the blue liquid would do him more harm than good.
He had obtained this by chance in a dangerous region of the mountains. Before then, he had only ever heard of mineral essence, never having had access to such a precious substance.
Consumed when the human body was in peak condition, it could refine one's physique and invigorate the spirit.
Having fallen critically ill right after escaping the mountains, he had never had the chance to try it.
"In a few more days, I might finally be able to use it." Qin Ming put the finely crafted crystal vial away.
A cold wind blew past, scattering sparse snowflakes.
Living alone, Qin Ming found the quiet courtyard cold and lonely, even somewhat desolate.
He was already used to it.
As time slipped by, the darkness deepened; shallow night was drawing to a close.
Lu Ze arrived, accompanied by a five-year-old boy. Though bundled up tightly, the child's little face was still flushed red from the cold.
"Wenrui has grown taller again," Qin Ming remarked, gesturing at the boy's height.
"Uncle Qin, are you feeling better?" Lu Wenrui asked, tilting his head up in concern. His eyes were wide and clear, reflecting the pure innocence of his age.
Qin Ming smiled and replied, "I'm practically fine now. In a few days, I'll catch that talking sparrow you've been dreaming about."
"A talking sparrow that can speak with people? Really? That's wonderful!" Upon hearing this, little Wenrui beamed with joy, his eyes shining brightly.
"Things aren't right outside lately," Lu Ze said, handing a food container to Qin Ming and telling him not to rush out.
Though rock rice was coarse and tough to chew, Qin Ming's mouth watered nonetheless. With only two meals a day, he was genuinely starving. To his surprise, nestled in the cooked rock rice were a few red jujubes—remarkably tender, sweet, and fragrant.
Qin Ming noticed little Wenrui staring fixedly at them, swallowing hard.
Guilt pinched Qin Ming's chest. Crouching down, he asked, "Wenrui, tell Uncle, are you still hungry?"
Lu Ze shook his head. "Nonsense. He's just like that because he saw the jujubes."
Qin Ming promptly picked out the jujubes and offered them to the handsome, endearing boy.
Lu Ze stopped him. "Your sister-in-law put those in especially to help replenish your qi and blood. Don't give them to him."
Just then, Liang Wanqing arrived as well. Looking at Wenrui, she chided gently, "Your Uncle Qin is weak. We don't have meat or tonics right now, so don't be greedy."
She was not a bad person at heart. Earlier, she had believed Qin Ming would perish just like the other three villagers and that helping him was pointless, which was why she had argued with her husband. But now, seeing him turn a corner and shake off his stupor, she still wanted to lend a hand, even though she knew their own household had very little grain left.
Little Wenrui nodded obediently, blinking his large eyes. "Uncle, go ahead and eat. Get better soon. I'm not hungry anymore."
How could Qin Ming possibly stomach eating them? He insisted on feeding the jujubes to little Wenrui. At the same time, an ache tightened his chest; he had to venture into the dense forest soon.
He was deeply grateful to the couple, yet he refrained from empty pleasantries, choosing instead to ask them about the current conditions outside.
Liang Wanqing sat and chatted for a short while before heading back, as there was still a two-year-old child at home who needed care.
"Lately, gigantic beasts have been roaming the dense forest, and several people have been injured or killed..." Lu Ze warned him that he could not go out alone, as it was exceedingly dangerous.
Qin Ming nodded and listened intently.
Whether due to the raging blizzards making foraging difficult for mountain beasts or some other reason, the wilderness had grown unusually restless.
Particularly in the area where Qin Ming had contracted his strange illness, eyes brighter than sunstones had once pierced the mountain gloom, instantly plunging the dense forest into dead silence.
Hearing this, Qin Ming could not help but recall the perilous ordeal from a month ago.
That day, in the pitch-black mountain woods, he and three companions had abruptly lost their footing and plunged into a fissure in the earth.
The subterranean realm was bizarre; after absolute darkness came blinding light that stung their eyes, bringing tears streaming down their faces.
What unsettled him most was his heart pounding beyond its limit, drumming furiously with powerful thumps that resonated outside his chest.
Recalling that moment still left him with lingering dread.
In that instant, he had been unable to move. Blood surged furiously through his veins, roaring like a waterfall in his ears.
Qin Ming had thought he would die, convinced his heart was going to burst.
Soon, the brilliance in the depths of the fissure faded somewhat. He saw streaks of silver light, like silken threads or cobwebs, interwoven into a tapestry that disoriented his consciousness and stripped away his sense of space.
At the time, Qin Ming's head had spun with dizziness, while his companions had already passed out cold.
Only when the silver light abruptly vanished and total darkness returned did his heartbeat gradually normalize. Once his body could move again, he hauled his three companions out of the fissure one by one, waiting a long time before they regained consciousness.
During that process, Qin Ming also discovered several corpses not far from the fissure. They were dressed in fine garments and seemed to have died recently.
Adhering to the simple principle of not letting good things go to waste, he had quickly searched them. The crystal vial containing the blue liquid was what he had retrieved back then.
Qin Ming had never mentioned the vial to Lu Ze. The deceased clearly came from prominent backgrounds, and he feared inviting trouble.
Vicious beasts prowled the mountains; presumably, nothing remained of the site, all traces swept away.
On their way back to the village, Qin Ming and the others had begun to feel unwell, staggering as their consciousness grew hazy.
The three companions died the very day they returned, their entire bodies turning black. Only Qin Ming endured, taking a full month to recover.
After finishing the coarse rice meal, Qin Ming and Lu Ze talked for a long time.
Wenrui was sensible and listened quietly at their side.
Later, the atmosphere lightened. Qin Ming looked at the somewhat bashful boy and said, "Wenrui, once Uncle's illness is fully cured, I'll bring back all the jujubes and hazelnuts you could ever want to eat."
"Will there be meat? I... haven't eaten any in a long time," little Wenrui whispered, unable to stop himself from swallowing again. As if recalling flavors from the past, his flushed little face was full of yearning.
"There will be!" Qin Ming patted his head affectionately.
As the darkness deepened, Lu Ze stood up and led Wenrui away.
Inside the room, the flame-like radiance of the sunstone in the bronze basin was waning.
Qin Ming closed his eyes and sat in silence. Visualizing his own figure in his mind, he rehearsed specific movements, training his mental power until he finally emptied his mind.
The moment he opened his eyes, he faintly caught sight of a faint silver gleam flashing and vanishing.
"An illusion?" Qin Ming paused.
Though it was only a fleeting glimpse, he believed he had not mistaken it. Faint silver ripples had truly dissipated across the surface of his body before disappearing in an instant.
He had persevered in this unique method of cultivation for many years without ever seeing any reaction, yet today something unusual had occurred!
Qin Ming noticed a fine sheen of sweat coating his skin, as if he had undergone intense physical exertion, yet his spirit felt remarkably invigorated.
He walked into the courtyard, eyes gleaming brightly, and began to perform sets of specific physical forms.
Deeply absorbed, his body soon heated up. A burst of vibrant vitality expanded within him, like a gentle rain falling over a long-parched desert.
After a long time, drenched in sweat and with white steam rising from his head, Qin Ming felt immensely refreshed. The last vestiges of his illness seemed to have been expelled along with the copious sweat.
Only when exhaustion set in and he halted the exercise did he distinctly see a faint silver glow emerge across his skin before swiftly dispersing.
"It really is different now." This time, he saw it clearly.
A sense of exhilaration filled Qin Ming. A tangible warmth flowed through his body, gently nourishing every part of him, steadily bolstering his vigor and spirit.
After a brief rest, he wanted to continue practicing the movements, but his stomach grumbled noisily. Hunger struck again, even though he had already eaten dinner.
Qin Ming stopped immediately, not daring to expend more energy. He couldn't bring himself to ask Lu Ze for more food.
Soaked through and through, his clothes completely drenched in sweat, he went to boil water to wash up.
Looking at the delicate face reflected in the water basin—no longer pale, but flushed with healthy color—Qin Ming murmured to himself, "I'm almost fully recovered. I'll set out tomorrow morning."
He had no wish to trouble others or become a burden. Now that he could move freely, he wanted to resolve the food issue as soon as possible and break free from their dire predicament.
Qin Ming returned the extinguished sunstone to the Fire Spring, taking only a small fragment on his way back to light his path.
One after another, the lights in each household dimmed, and the entire village melted into the darkness.
Fierce winds rose in the freezing winter night, sweeping up drifts of wilderness snow in vast white swirls. Much of it fell upon the village, submerging many courtyards.
"So hungry!" Long before bedtime, Qin Ming's hunger grew unbearable. His stomach felt as though it were on fire. Forget fine delicacies—if a ground mole were right in front of him, he would devour it without hesitation.
Unfortunately, in years like this, even the village's rat holes lay abandoned and desolate.
Qin Ming tried to will himself to sleep early, but the pangs of hunger left him flustered and restless, making sleep impossible.
He forced himself to divert his thoughts, dwelling on good things and fond memories, such as a few hazy faces etched in his mind.
Then his thoughts drifted back to his special method of training. It truly had changed, finally showing a reaction that caused faint silver ripples to manifest across his skin. He couldn't help feeling eager: what further changes would follow?
His mind wandered further, imagining sweet, fresh berries buried beneath the snow in the dense forest, and a leg of mutton roasted golden and glistening over a crackling campfire.
"That's going too far! How can I let myself think about that?" He quickly gave himself a hard pinch.
He decided that as soon as shallow night arrived, he would set out. It was all to fulfill little Wenrui's wish as soon as possible—and with that thought, he couldn't help but swallow another mouthful of saliva.
With yearning and longing for food lingering in his mind, Qin Ming finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 2