Qin Ming’s head throbbed with excruciating pain, as though a dull axe were hacking into his skull again and again. His head felt shattered, darkness swam before his eyes, and the agony pushed him to the brink of blacking out.
He drew deep breaths, yet he still could not control himself. Staggering on his feet, his emotions surged violently, roaring like a raging fire.
"Why treat me like this?" he whispered through the searing torment. He had entertained all sorts of conjectures, but never had he anticipated that his own parents had ordered Cui Hong to treat him this way.
The realization felt as though his soul were being torn open piece by piece, causing his entire body to tremble. It was far more agonizing than having his arm broken and his skull fractured by the youth clad in feather robes with that glowing purple bamboo rod.
Qin Ming stumbled backward, shattered fragments of memory surfacing in his mind. No wonder during his third Newborn rebirth, he had dipped his finger into coarse tea to write a single word on the tabletop: *Cast Aside*.
Now he remembered even more. Before that feather-robed youth had found him, while he was still living in that peaceful village, he had already written that same word in silence on that dark night.
Even when the village was suddenly swallowed by a conflagration, breached by hordes of powerful experts amidst earth-shaking battle cries, he had maintained his silence. Facing the calamity of life and death, he had watched with calm eyes, never uttering a single word.
*Back then, had I already lost all desire to speak? It seemed I foresaw what was to come—was it utter despair? Perhaps laced with bitterness and desolation as well.* Standing in the desert, enduring the splitting pain in his head, Qin Ming felt as though an old scar was being ripped open anew, forcing him through that torture once more.
He saw with absolute clarity that even as the sea of flames nearly consumed him back then, not a single ripple had disturbed his expression. In the end, he had even gazed toward the horizon with a sense of relief, staring at the pitch-black night as if letting go of everything entirely.
*At the final moment, did I actually feel a sense of release? I had anticipated it, and once it truly arrived, I was already able to face it with composure.*
Standing in the desert, his eyes bloodshot, Qin Ming looked upon his past self from two years ago, overwhelmed by indignation, defiance, and resentment welling up from the depths of his heart.
"Young Master, Chonghe, what's wrong?" Seeing him like this, Cui Hong felt a twinge of pity and stepped forward.
"Stay back!" Qin Ming said in a low voice.
Before his eyes burned the endless fire, along with the image of his past self nearly crushed by a flaming roof beam—a self who had not cared about living or dying at all.
Two years ago, for reasons unknown, he had let out one final sigh in the silence, seemingly abandoning all attachment.
Yet the Qin Ming of today truly could not accept it!
*Because that feather-robed youth beat me to the brink of death, I lost a vast amount of my memories. Is that why I cannot let go of that past now? Is that why I cannot comprehend why I felt relief at the final moment on that night two years ago?*
Qin Ming stood in the desert, forcing himself to recall through the sharp pain.
More fractured scenes surged forth like a dense forest of spears, or a frigid phalanx of broadswords, battering mercilessly against his mind, threatening to tear him apart.
It was another night, and he saw many people.
This had to be an even earlier memory, long before he encountered the feather-robed youth. Surrounded by a large crowd, he was parting ways with members of the Cui clan.
Across from him stood a middle-aged couple, watching him board a bronze carriage etched with cloud patterns.
The middle-aged man spoke no words. He carried immense majesty, his eyes seemingly capable of seeing straight through a person's soul as he watched him leave in silence.
The woman appeared to be in her early thirties, dressed in splendid palace robes, her cloud-like coiffure pinned up high with a golden, radiant plume. Her exquisite face showed no ripple of emotion as she watched Qin Ming depart on his distant journey.
Many elders around them, possessing extraordinarily vigorous vital energy, seemed intimidated by the couple's sheer presence, keeping a cautious distance to avoid feeling suffocated.
Back then, Qin Ming had been unable to resist looking back over his shoulder, only to see their retreating figures. The middle-aged couple had already turned and led their retinue away. His lips had parted, yet not a single word had escaped him.
Though the memory was shattered and faint, Qin Ming could vividly sense the violent emotional tempest he had felt at that time. It was as though he were facing a final, living bereavement—full of reluctant attachment, boundless desolation, and a touch of resentment.
"Chonghe, are you all right?" Cui Hong asked, worry showing on his face.
Qin Ming looked at him and said, "I was actually doing very well. If you hadn't appeared again, it would have been even better!"
His headache eased slightly. He wiped his face and found tear marks, left behind at some unknown moment. Annoyed, he wiped them clean in one rough swipe.
Such cheap liquid had no place on him now. The past had long since become the past and ought to be discarded—what was there to weep over?
Qin Ming's face turned impassive as he said, "I always thought I had done something wrong in the past. Only now can I be certain that I never wronged any of you, nor did I fail the Cui clan. Yet you have sought me out once more—what else do you want?"
Cui Hong said, "I came here first to seek the yin-yang great medicine, and second for your affairs. A manor will be arranged, and people will protect you, Young Master. There is no need for you to travel far into the outside world to take risks."
"With a single word, you want to ruin my future?!" Qin Ming’s gaze grew sharp, his eyes rimmed with red. He had endured so much, suffered severe injuries, soaked in blood, living like a beggar in the freezing snow. Had the people of Shuangshu Village not taken him in, he would have died long ago.
Now, with a casual remark, they wanted to keep him pinned forever in this remote wasteland. On what grounds? Everything he possessed now had been fought for with his own life by braving the great mountains, without relying on a single shred of the Cui clan's resources.
Cui Hong fell silent as well, guilt and reluctance welling up within him once more. Yet this was his mission; how could he return without completing it?
After a long while, he spoke with utter gravity. "Chonghe, you must have switched to practicing a local Newborn method, right? After all, without predecessors to guide you, the method on the silk book can no longer be cultivated. Yet these local Newborn methods are hardly profound; mastering them will scarcely yield any great achievement. Even if you exert yourself to the utmost and exhaust your heart and blood, you will at best become an expert in a tiny place like this. If you truly step into the outside world, you will be utterly eclipsed, far from any dazzling powerhouse. Rather than that, since you have only just begun, why not steel your heart, sever the Newborn path, and live a safe, prosperous life here? People will protect and care for you. What is so bad about that?"
A surge of fury flared within Qin Ming's chest. His path, his life—on what grounds should others dictate it?
He asked, "So as long as I undergo Newborn, whether through the method on the silk book or any other Newborn method, you will act under orders to stop me and strike at me, is that it?"
Cui Hong remained silent.
"My parents' decision..." Qin Ming gazed out into the pitch-black desert. Amidst boundless indignation, a deep sense of helplessness settled over him.
The trials of the past had forced him to look death in the face; he had practically died once already, yet he had never quailed or feared. But this blow, dealt by family and blood ties, caught him entirely off guard.
Though the scenes from beginning to end were fractured, broken, and missing so much, Qin Ming vaguely deduced the truth from that single word, *Cast Aside*. An abandoned pawn, a chess piece—whichever it was, his breath grew heavy. His present self simply could not accept it.
He could be certain that not only had he never wronged the Cui clan, but he had also laid down his life for them, surviving by the thinnest margin, only to be cast away into a remote wasteland like this.
Flames flickered before Qin Ming's eyes as blurry scenes flashed in swathes. He grew increasingly convinced that many within the Cui clan had known in advance what would transpire on that fateful night.
*Pushed out to take the fall for a disaster?*
Yet he could not fathom why—after he had already fallen to such a state—the Cui clan, or more specifically his parents, still insisted on doing this.
What he had once thought to be an illusion was gradually proving real. How despondent must he have been back then to believe his entire life was fake and cobbled together, all because certain beliefs in his heart had collapsed?
Cui Hong said nothing and stepped forward. Though regret filled his heart, he still prepared to take action.
"Can you tell me everything I went through?" Qin Ming suddenly asked, pointing at his own head. "You must have witnessed the events of that night with your own eyes. My skull was shattered in three places by that feather-robed youth, and I forgot a great deal. Even if you intend to strike, at least let me understand clearly before I go."
"What?" Cui Hong’s expression changed abruptly. Profoundly astonished, he felt overcome with self-reproach and guilt. "I didn't know you had even lost your memories. This is our fault; we should have reached that place sooner. Forgive me, Young Master... Chonghe."
His emotions were in turmoil as he added, "Chonghe, I definitely did not come here to kill you. I only came to dissolve your Newborn path. From now on, no one will target you, Young Master. You can marry, have children, and live here with no more strife!"
"How is that any different from killing me? I want to step onto the Newborn path—this is the future I chose for myself! On what grounds do you dare sever it?" Reaching this point, Qin Ming demanded loudly, "I have completely forgotten the past, left with nothing but scattered fragments of memory! What do you still have to worry about?!"
"How could this be?!" An exclamation rang out from the rugged path at the edge of the desert. Dressed in feather garments, Li Qingyue appeared.
Beside her, in addition to the maidservant and the two men in golden armor, stood Meng Xinghai, the new City Lord of Chixia City.
The desert fell dead silent.
Cui Hong did not retreat, his eyes fixed on the youth before him.
Qin Ming realized that the man would ultimately strike after all. He spoke aloud, "Even in a humble household, my neighbors—an ordinary couple—can take such good care of their pair of children, filled with affection and warmth, willing to protect them with their very lives. A millennium-old clan? From this moment on, we have no further ties. To discard them here and now is just as well."
At this moment, a voice in the depths of Qin Ming's heart seemed to sigh softly, telling him that everything had passed. Those were his parents; he should not blame them for anything. Sacrificing a little was what he owed, so he should simply journey far away and leave it all behind.
Yet his present self shook his head, utterly unable to remain calm.
"I have already died once! From now on, I am no longer Cui Chonghe! The one who returned to life is Qin Ming, and from this moment forward, I only want to live for myself!" Qin Ming shouted into the desert.
Chapter 66