Qin Ming knew this region intimately. Heading straight to a cluster of scree in the snow, he found an elongated rock that looked remarkably similar, snapped it forcefully in two, and hurled the pieces back into the area where the woman had just been before vanishing swiftly into the dense forest.
He figured only young, curious Newborns like himself would bother rushing over to check; old-timers would not spare it a glance, for the stone rind of a mysterious yield held no value.
More importantly, the object retrieved by the green-robed woman was far too brilliant. It could not be hidden or masked. In a single instant, it had illuminated the entire night sky, and all the higher anomalies and major organizations had pursued in her wake.
With an incomparable treasure in plain sight, who would care about useless stone?
Even though the woman had decisively absorbed the mysterious yield, the center of her brow still blazed with light, shining like a guiding beacon.
Sure enough, after some time, people arrived in search of the discarded rind.
This was the mountain's outer perimeter, devoid of top experts; the seasoned veterans and able-bodied fighters were all prowling around areas with special nodes.
Moments later, six or seven Newborns actually came to blows over the broken strip of stone.
Qin Ming looked entirely composed, yet waves of excitement stirred within him. After all, the leftover scrap he had collected came from the mountain's most mysterious harvest of all.
A spectacle like ten-colored pillars of light piercing the heavens was unheard of, not recorded even in ancient tomes, to say nothing of how it had fused into one with the five-colored haze.
He imagined the major organizations and higher beings who had failed to arrive earlier would be green with regret.
A consensus had once formed among the various parties: of the heavenly light that fell two years ago, this land's had been the dimmest. They had assumed it could not be a rich land and was destined for meager harvests.
Yet now, Black-White Mountain had experienced a massive eruption!
Above all, this most likely involved another strain of heavenly light that had settled two hundred years prior; even the upper echelons of the royal capital would probably lose sleep upon learning of it.
Back then, they had mobilized an enormous force only to reap a pitifully sparse haul, leaving them furious enough to want to level the local mountains.
Evidently, within a few days, the long-dormant name of Black-White Mountain would once again sweep through the luminous cities shrouded in the night mist.
Standing in the dense forest, Qin Ming crushed the half-piece of rock that lacked any pulsation; sure enough, nothing lay inside.
Gripping the other half, he hesitated. The commotion stirred by the primary harvest had been terrifying; even if these leftover scraps were vastly inferior, they would hardly be ordinary.
Forget any grand spectacle—even if a single streak of shooting fire ignited here, it would likely set the entire forest ablaze with attention.
After all, the shallow night was already over. Beneath a night as dark as ink, even the faintest abnormal omen would stick out like a sore thumb.
Before long, Qin Ming walked out of the dense forest, following his old rule of leaving the half-stone behind in the mountain.
There was no rush. He calmed his mind, choosing to wait until the storm had brewed further. Black-White Mountain's most mysterious yield was destined to be on everyone's lips, shaking all quarters; anything else would fade into insignificance.
In fact, at this very moment, that most mysterious yield had already set the night sky alight. The various factions were intercepting the green-robed woman, and higher anomalies had already shed blood.
"Faster!" urged the woman draped in a black fur cloak. She stood atop the back of an enormous black bird, her tall, slender figure glowing with light to shield against the wind and snow.
The purple-eyed crow retorted, "Tang Jin, it's easy for you to talk standing there! I'm flying so hard I'm nearly out of breath. That's a golden peng—rarely can anyone match it in speed! Being able to close the distance at all makes me a miracle among crows!"
"Hiss, that woman is ferocious! She's made a higher being spill blood across the night sky in no time!" the purple-eyed crow cried out, its speed slackening slightly.
"No need to fear! Strike while she's held up, chase her down immediately!" Tang Jin urged, a seemingly ordinary light-yellow hemp rope appearing in her hand.
"You didn't take down the rope hanging from your master's rafters, did you? Wasn't it tethering a..." the purple-eyed crow asked in alarm.
"It's not that one!" Tang Jin urged it to pick up speed once more.
The crow flapped its wings, gradually closing in.
Ahead, the Red Lightning Bird—the swiftest among them—had overtaken the green-robed woman, only to be grievously wounded in the blink of an eye.
Beneath the night sky, the woman atop the golden peng used some mysterious technique to dye the heavy snowfall around her entirely gold. The flakes drifted across the sky, yet flew thousands of times faster than before.
Standing on the peng's back, she appeared to make no great motion, yet the dazzling golden snowflakes traced bizarre arcs, slashing at the Red Lightning Bird from every angle, tearing through the light around its body and drenching it in blood in an instant.
The higher anomaly was ferocious. Emitting a piercing cry, its body seemed to burst into flames as immense red light erupted, spreading in every direction. It hung there like a crimson sun, illuminating the night sky.
All the golden snowflakes melted in an instant. Horrifyingly, however, they were not vaporized; instead, their golden brilliance flared violently, turning into an endless drizzle where every golden raindrop stretched out indefinitely, weaving back and forth into a net.
A mournful avian screech rang out. Beneath the dense weave of fine golden lines born of those raindrops, the massive Red Lightning Bird was sliced into dozens, then hundreds of pieces.
Whether its flesh and blood or its spirit-rich plumage, all were severed by the golden threads, leaving not a single intact piece to plummet toward the pitch-black earth.
The purple-eyed crow grimaced, desperately wanting to turn and flee, but Tang Jin atop its back made her move. The plain hemp rope blazed with magnificent light, extending outwards as it darted toward the green-robed woman ahead.
"Someone from Liuguang City?!" The moment the green-robed woman on the golden peng saw the rope, she recognized Tang Jin's origin.
"Can you really pull it off?" The purple-eyed crow lacked all confidence.
"Charge over right now and ram her head! No matter what, we have to find a way to take half of that heaven-sent treasure!" Tang Jin poured all her strength into driving the rope, which radiated brilliant golden light.
***
That night, Qin Ming slept soundly. Contentment brought constant happiness; having gained a modest harvest, he felt thoroughly satisfied. That most mysterious prize was far too distant for him, so he harbored no greed and gave it no further thought.
The next day, after entering the mountain alongside Mu Qing, Cao Long, and Wei Zhirou, Qin Ming heard a flurry of explosive news.
"Terrifying! Last night, the distant night sky was burning! More than one or two experts from major organizations and higher beings fell, yet they still failed to stop that green-robed woman."
"It's mainly because there are too few flying anomalies. If the true supreme experts could take to the skies, it would have been a whole different story."
"They say City Lord Ling slapped his thighs in regret, cursing himself for never buying an ultra-fast flying mount, and stormed back to Chixia City in a fit of rage."
People discussed it fervently. The various reports arriving set all who entered the mountains on edge, fearing they might bear the brunt of the higher beings' wrath.
For someone had spotted the old weasel—normally as calm and placid as an eminent monk—carrying its donkey high in the air and sprinting through the mountains for a long time, shattering vast swathes of forest in its wake.
"Understandable. Anyone who got intercepted like that would probably cough up blood in fury," Cao Long remarked, seated atop his giant ox.
"You've got that right. Even I don't dare venture into the deep mountains now," a voice spoke from a treetop.
Cao Long froze. Who was speaking from midair? He jerked his head up, spotted the speech sparrow, and instantly lost his temper, hurling his heavy lance straight at the tree.
With a loud snap, the trunk was severed, and the entire canopy came crashing down with a roar.
The speech sparrow traced a graceful arc through the darkness, flitting away with effortless agility.
Old Man Liu advised, "No need to get angry with it. Rest easy; come early spring when it begins to breed, this old man will help you vent your anger. If we can't handle the bird itself, could we fail to catch its chicks?"
Cao Long clapped his hands at once. "Excellent! I'll raise a few speech sparrows—and ideally catch that one too."
Before long, Cao Long and Old Man Liu were chatting away, hitting it off remarkably well.
A moment later, Old Man Liu remarked casually, "Special nodes in the mountain are limited—just that handful, and terribly hard to find. But there are other opportunities in these mountains, though they're exceedingly dangerous. For instance, in some places dwell thrice-mutated creatures. Do you dare touch them?"
Cao Long replied, "Are there any such places left? Some old-timers already moved in advance, sweeping the mountain yesterday. I doubt there's any spiritual substance left in the outer perimeter."
As for the mountain's depths, he would never set foot there, not even if he joined forces with Mu Qing and Wei Zhirou. That was not a place where they could afford to take risks.
Old Man Liu patted his chest. "Of course there are! I know these mountains like the back of my hand. There are spots others could never find, but I know them inside out."
Cao Long's eyes lit up immediately. "No problem. If we get a decent haul, there'll certainly be a share for you, old master."
Mu Qing and Wei Zhirou also nodded in agreement. Rather than searching for uncertain special nodes, it was far better to head straight for a hidden spot known to contain spiritual substance.
Qin Ming instantly knew where Old Man Liu meant to take them; the old man had mentioned it that night over drinks.
Fire Bat Cave lay within a cavern leading toward the mountain's interior. The passage was deep and required traveling a long way in. Inside was a Fire Spring, home to a large colony of fire bats, the strongest of which had mutated three times.
Fire bats contained no spiritual substance, but their droppings fell nearby, nourishing a type of spiritual crimson grass that could help someone achieve a second Newborn transformation.
Qin Ming had originally wondered if, when the time was right, he might share the fire snake—which was no longer of much use to him—with Old Man Liu and Lu Ze. He had not expected the old man to have his own means of obtaining resources.
The expedition to Fire Bat Cave was not without incident, and some youths across the three teams were injured. But with Cao Long, Wei Zhirou, and Mu Qing holding the line, there was little suspense. Aside from leaving behind a few seeds, every stalk of the red grass was plucked clean.
Old Man Liu was delighted, tucking a cluster of glowing crimson plants into his chest. The grass stood barely three inches tall, yet brimmed with rich vitality and spirituality.
Before the shallow night fell, Qin Ming hunted a wild ox. Finding an opportunity, he stuffed the half-stone into its mouth and down into its belly before rejoining Cao Long, Mu Qing, and the others.
It had been a long time since he last hunted, so bringing back game looked entirely natural. Most importantly, his relationship with this group was now excellent.
Even with people guarding the mountain exit and scrutinizing all who emerged, none came to question Qin Ming and Old Man Liu, who were walking alongside Mu Qing, Cao Long, and the other nobles. Both men successfully carried their respective harvests out of the mountains.
That night, Qin Ming did not even pause for dinner; returning home, he immediately began examining the half-stone.
*What is this?* His heart sank slightly. When he retrieved the stone from the mountain earlier that day, he had felt something was amiss, unable to sense that faint pulsation.
Now, focusing his mind and holding it in both hands, he still felt nothing out of the ordinary.
Ever since he had been eroded in the subterranean fissure and adapted to it, Qin Ming had developed an extraordinary sensitivity toward mysterious yields nurtured by heavenly light.
Yet now, he could not sense anything inside.
Taking a deep breath, he began carefully peeling away the stone rind. If he could feel the pulsation again, he might stop and wait a few more days before slicing it open.
Yet even after he had crushed more than half the stone, there was still no abnormality, not the slightest stir.
Just as his heart was sinking deeper, his fingers suddenly brushed against some mysterious yield. But no anomaly appeared—not even a single wisp of the heavenly light that should have remained leaked out.
"What is this?!" Even as steady as Qin Ming was, he was startled enough to nearly leap out of his skin.
Chapter 37