The Wilderness

With the arrival of shallow night, the silence broke as households hurried to the Fire Spring to retrieve their sunstones. Qin Ming stood ready to set out, fully armed with a hunting fork, short knife, bow, and arrows. He had already eaten the flatbread Lu Ze brought over, but had not mentioned his plans to leave, afraid the man would try to talk him out of it. Qin Ming had no wish to court danger, intending only to try his luck in a relatively safe area. He had pondered this for a long time, recalling a fleeting glimpse of a creature in the mountain forest back in autumn. Given its habits, it ought to make its home nearby. "I hope it's still there and brings me a pleasant surprise." Outside gradually grew quiet; no one went to collect sunstones anymore. Qin Ming set off. Along the way, he ran into two villagers one after another. He greeted them with a smile and swiftly walked past before either could react. Passing by the Fire Spring, he plunged into a world of pitch-black darkness. Conditions in the wild were harsh beyond measure. As Qin Ming waded through the deep snow, only his chest and head showed above the surface; more than half his body was buried out of sight. The bitter cold bit deep, and the white mist of his breath froze into frost upon his eyebrows and the tips of his hair. Even in shallow night, the world remained dim and obscure, hiding distant landmarks from view. Gripping his hunting fork, Qin Ming trudged forward with great effort, every step an arduous struggle. Finally, after walking about four li, he drew near his destination. Ahead lay a dense, shadowy expanse of thick woodland. Though some distance remained, the dark silhouette was already visible. Qin Ming's objective was the edge of the forest; he had no intention of venturing too deep. Stumbling through the drifts, he entered the dense woods. Aside from a few hardy species, most trees were bare, their branches laden with snow. Qin Ming stopped, racking his memory to recall the tracks and movements of the creature he had spotted back then. He had noticed a tree hollow in this area; perhaps it was one of its dens. "It was bigger than the rest of its kind—eight or nine chances out of ten it mutated. If I can find its main den, the haul should be substantial." After a brief pause, Qin Ming pressed onward. Darkness shrouded the woods, broken only by the sudden, eerie cries of strange birds that made the deserted wilderness all the more forbidding. Suddenly, Qin Ming tensed. Faint and elusive, a slight stench of rot reached his nose. That was entirely unnatural. Grasping the hunting fork with both hands, he scanned his surroundings, bracing for combat. Without warning, he thrust the sharp steel fork upward! He had caught an abnormal rush of wind and pinpointed the source of the foul stench, and as he looked up, he saw what it was. A dark silhouette hung upside down from a bough a dozen-plus meters up, bearing the pale, wrinkled face of an old man. It swooped down, lunging viciously straight at Qin Ming's head. In these deathly quiet woods, such a sudden horror was truly spine-chilling. Fortunately, Qin Ming's sharp reflexes had caught the danger in advance, and his steel fork darted out to meet the airborne beast. A piercing shriek reverberated through the trees, sending chills down the spine. The creature did not press its dive recklessly; while still several meters away, it banked sharply to the side. Gusts of cold wind swept past as it spread powerful wings, shooting through the forest canopy into the night sky. Circling once or twice, it flew into the distance and vanished from sight. Though he had not gotten a crystal-clear look, Qin Ming still recognized what it was. A human-faced vulture—a carrion-eating bird of prey with the grayish-black body of an eagle and a face that, save for its beak, was virtually indistinguishable from the pale, wrinkled face of an old man. They generally weighed no more than forty jin. Under normal circumstances, it would never actively attack a living adult, scavenging only on corpses. Had prey grown so scarce that it was acting this erratically? Qin Ming remained on guard, waiting a long time, but it did not reappear. His destination was not far off now; he could not give up here. After catching his breath, he set off again. "This should be the place." This patch was dominated by Scots pines, broadleaf trees, and white birches. Qin Ming knew he had found the right spot—he spotted the very tree hollow he had seen before. Though dim under the canopy, at a distance of several meters he could clearly see that the rim of the hollow was clean—not a promising sign. If the creature were hibernating inside, in this extreme cold the moisture from its breathing would surely have left frost around the opening. It was impossible not to feel disappointed. Qin Ming frowned slightly. Could the creature have never settled in this area at all? Taking a deep breath, he prepared to search the vicinity thoroughly. Clutching the hunting fork firmly in his right hand and gripping the short knife in his left, he maintained his guard at all times. After all, no one could foresee what perils lurked in the wild. Qin Ming prowled quietly, searching without making a sound. Half a quarter of an hour later, he spotted animal tracks in the snow, and hope instantly surged! Suddenly, a brilliant wash of multi-colored light erupted from the mountain hills ahead, illuminating the dense forest in an instant. Startled, Qin Ming instantly sharpened his vigilance, seizing the fleeting illumination to scan the surrounding wilderness for any lurking beasts. At the same time, his gaze swept the nearby trunks for any suspicious hollows. The vivid light faded quickly, and the world plunged back into inky blackness. That was "earthlight," vapors rising from deep subterranean fire springs, an occasional occurrence. It was more common in warmer weather, especially during the summer, when the rising earthlight could persist for a day or two, influencing the weather and drawing in vast rainclouds. At such times, dense raindrops mingled with glowing mists, painting the world in magnificent, breathtaking beauty. To people living without daylight, that was the most wondrous spectacle of all. As gloom reclaimed the dense forest, a genuine, radiant smile broke across Qin Ming's face—for in that brief flash, he had spotted another hollow, rimmed with frost crystals. He crept forward through the snow, the soft crunch of his footsteps swallowed by the rising wind. Stepping lightly, he reached a tree as thick as a water bucket. The hollow was set some distance off the ground; raising his hunting fork, he could just barely reach it. Qin Ming set down the fork, gathered his strength, and sprang out of the snowdrift. Clamping onto the trunk, he hauled himself up with agile, fluid speed until he reached the hollow. With a sweep of the short knife in his right hand, he struck the rim of the opening, producing a dull thud. At that exact moment, a creature just about to burst out darted back inside, narrowly dodging the blade. Qin Ming had not expected to trap the creature right inside its hole—an unexpected stroke of luck. In his mind, if he could just find its main nest and clean out its hoard of food, that would already count as a great success and yield a tidy harvest. Inside the hollow, scuffling rustles persisted, accompanied by frantic chittering. The opening was somewhat narrow, making it awkward for Qin Ming to reach inside. He swung his blade several times; this section of the trunk had long since rotted and dried out, and after a few chops, the hollow widened considerably. He quickly pulled out an animal hide pouch, slipped it over his hand like a glove, and reached in to snatch the creature. Frantic squeaks echoed from the pitch-black hollow. Qin Ming shoved his entire arm inside, feeling a flurry of frantic thumps against his hand. Luckily, the hide pouch was thick enough; otherwise, he would have suffered a nasty bite. Seizing his quarry firmly, he swiftly yanked it out. Pulling a sunstone from his breast, he shone its light deep into the hollow. His face immediately lit up with joy—inside was a bounty of dried provisions: wild walnuts, chestnuts, red dates, and more. These were his true target. The agony of starvation was miserable to bear. These dried nuts and fruits were more than enough to stave off hunger—they were lifesaving sustenance. The sight lit an eager, fiery glow in Qin Ming's clear eyes. Turning his head, he examined the small beast held in his grip. Beneath the glow of the sunstone, its fiery red pelt looked smoother and silkier than fine satin. This was a red squirrel. An ordinary specimen weighed no more than one jin, yet this one was well over two jin—a mutated creature, without question. It was gnawing furiously at the animal hide pouch wrapped around Qin Ming's hand, struggling in vain to break free. Its brilliant, fiery pelt seemed to shimmer with light; it was bound to fetch a handsome price. Drawing out a length of iron wire, Qin Ming bound it tightly and deftly, then hung it from a branch. Next came the sheer joy of harvest. Handful after handful, he scooped out the assorted nuts and fruits from the hollow, quickly plumping up his limp hide sack. Weighing it in his hands at last, he found it was over eight jin. Beside him, the dangling mutated red squirrel glared with wide, jet-black beady eyes, chattering furiously as though consumed by rage. Qin Ming had the distinct feeling it was cursing him. "You're this heavy; how could a little over eight jin of winter rations possibly be enough to feed you?" Hanging it from his hunting fork, Qin Ming held the sunstone high and searched the surrounding trees. With snow falling so deep every winter, mutated beasts of this sort rarely buried their food underground; otherwise, they wouldn't be able to dig it up themselves. Sure enough, Qin Ming discovered a second tree hollow nearby, then a third. Counting the very first frostless hollow he had spotted, every single one contained stored food. He cracked open a handful of wild walnuts, devoured a fistful of chestnuts—savoring their rich, fragrant taste—and then rubbed a few red dates clean with snow, popping five in a row until his mouth was filled with sweetness. No longer starving, Qin Ming wore a wide, delighted smile on his delicate face. The dried fruits and nuts were delicious, and more importantly, they solved his immediate crisis. A cunning hare had three burrows, but this glowing red squirrel possessed four separate dens, storing more than thirty jin of food. It truly lived up to its nature as a mutated beast. Qin Ming packed more than half his large hide sack full. "Squeak, squeak..." At first, the mutated red squirrel had thrashed about violently, chattering without pause. But when it saw all four of its dens uncovered and picked clean, it suddenly stiffened, freezing rigid on the spot, motionless. Surprised, Qin Ming gave it a shake. Had it dropped dead? He had long heard that mutated mountain beasts possessed constitutions far exceeding their common kin and were exceptionally clever, but they also had fierce tempers. He had never imagined one could literally die of rage. "Just as well. Xiao Wenrui said he wanted meat; I can stew a pot of broth," he murmured to himself, pleased that he could grant the child's wish so soon. Back in Twin Trees Village, a group of villagers was talking amongst themselves. Someone mentioned that Qin Ming had headed into the wild fully armed—judging by his gear, he looked as if he were setting off to hunt some massive beast! When Lu Ze heard the news, his brow furrowed deeply. How could that boy venture out alone? Surely he hadn't gone off to hunt a bear? ... Standing on high ground, Qin Ming realized he was very close to the summit. This was a low hill on the forest's outermost fringe. Unfortunately, after searching for a long time, he found no more squirrel hollows. Reaching the crest, he gazed ahead. An endless expanse of dark woods sprawled before him, while vast, towering mountain ranges loomed in the distance, showing only faint, shadowy silhouettes against the night. Deep in the mountains, there were places of dazzling brilliance, but shrouded by the vast nocturnal mist, only a faint, hazy glow rippled through. Qin Ming knew that those depths spelled the unknown, mystery, and danger—a realm far beyond where he dared to tread.