Eternal Night

That day, the sun set and never rose again...

Eternal Night. Heaven and earth lay pitch-black, as though an unfathomable abyss were about to swallow everything.

Daylight had long since fallen into the past and become legend.

Across the vast frozen earth, the cold wind howled, blizzards pounded down, and the snow on the ground had piled half a person high.

Double Tree Village had been half-buried by the snow.

There were only forty or fifty households here, like a village forgotten by the years. In the darkness, the clustered houses showed only vague outlines.

Amid the mournful howling wind, many rooftops swayed faintly, as if they were about to be torn away.

Qin Ming was very weak. Hunger woke him now, his stomach growling without pause. On this freezing night, the thought of any food at all made him swallow saliva.

Never mind steaming meat or fresh, delicious fruits—even the thought of a cold, hard bun brought sweetness flooding into his mouth and saliva welling beneath his tongue.

The world was frozen solid, and both inside and outside the house were so dark it made one feel suffocated.

Qin Ming wrapped his worn quilt tighter around himself. Even the heated brick bed could not hold back the bitter cold outside. The air he drew into his lungs was like icy grit scraping past, carrying a faint sting.

He restrained himself and stopped thinking about food. Otherwise, sour water would rise from his stomach and mouth.

After calming himself a little, he suddenly realized that his mind was clear now, no longer muddled and drowsy as before. Could the Strange Illness be about to leave him?

Though hunger and cold besieged him from both sides, the long illness finally showing signs of turning around put light into his eyes. He waited for Shallow Night to arrive.

As time passed, the wind gradually weakened, and the goose-feather snow that had been whipped wildly through the air slowly turned into scattered little flakes.

Activity stirred in the neighboring yard, followed by voices. They belonged to the young married couple, Lu Ze and Liang Wanqing.

"Where are you going? Are you bringing food to Qin Ming again?" Liang Wanqing's voice gradually rose.

"He's just sixteen or seventeen, all alone, and he's been terribly ill. He's pitiful," Lu Ze said quietly.

"Do you know there isn't much food left at home either? If this keeps up, the two children will go hungry!" Liang Wanqing said emotionally.

"The blizzard has stopped. We'll find a way," Lu Ze said, looking out at the black heavens and earth.

Hearing the couple argue, Qin Ming felt deeply apologetic. He no longer wanted to accept Lu Ze's kindness. In times like these, no household had it easy.

He had already climbed off the heated brick bed. Even after putting on his cotton clothes, he still felt cold, so he found an old fur coat in the cabinet and wrapped it around himself. In the pitch-black room, he kept pacing and rubbing his hands together.

After his severe illness, his tall, lean body had become somewhat thin. Even his black hair, hanging past his shoulders, had lost some of its luster. His handsome face was slightly pale, but his clear eyes shone brightly with spirit. Though he carried the look of illness, he possessed a steadfast air.

A month earlier, he had barely escaped from the mountains. At the time, his hands and feet had already begun to turn black, and he had remained gravely ill ever since.

As for the several companions who had traveled with him, they had died on the very day they returned.

Qin Ming had been entangled by the Strange Illness, and many believed he would not survive.

Yet he had endured until now, and he was clearly improving.

Thinking of the unknown dangers in the mountains, he still felt lingering fear.

The darkness outside changed, as if ink had fallen into a small amount of clear water and faded. Shallow Night had arrived—in other words, "daytime."

Obviously, it was only a little better than the deep of night. Heaven and earth remained steeped in night, and distant scenery could not be seen clearly.

The courtyard gate was pushed open, and Lu Ze arrived. Strong and solidly built, he used an iron shovel to clear the snow to either side, quickly opening a path to the house.

Qin Ming opened the door that had been sealed by snow and called out, "Brother Lu."

Lu Ze carried a glowing cloth bag and poured its contents into a stone basin in the snow. A pile of bright-red stones tumbled down, striking each other with crisp sounds as their light cut through the night.

These were Sun Stones. Their very name carried the people's beautiful wishes for this era, and now they lit up the courtyard.

Lu Ze was surprised. "Little Qin, you seem much more energetic."

Qin Ming invited him inside and truthfully explained that his mind was no longer muddled. He reckoned he really was about to recover.

Lu Ze said Qin Ming's life was tough—surviving the Strange Illness from the mountains was no easy feat. He poured the remaining glowing stones from the cloth bag into the Copper basin in the room, and the whole room immediately shone brilliantly.

Sun Stones came from Fire Spring. Though they blazed with flowing fire haze, they were nowhere near as warm as the human body. After several hours, they would go out on their own and had to be returned to Fire Spring to be warmed again.

"Here!" Lu Ze handed over a food box.

Qin Ming had been gravely ill for a month. His stored food had run out days ago, and he had relied entirely on Lu Ze's aid. Having just heard the couple's quarrel and learned that their circumstances were not good either, he felt guilty.

"Hurry and eat while it's hot." Lu Ze was a straightforward man who repaid kindness. Back then, he had become lost in a boundless, pitch-black forest. Qin Ming had called his name again and again, guiding him back.

Seeing the steaming black-flour buns, Qin Ming's fierce hunger made him want to swallow.

"Why are you just standing there? You haven't recovered yet. Going hungry won't help you heal. Are you still treating me like an outsider?" Lu Ze directly placed the food box in his hands.

"Brother Lu!" In the end, Qin Ming did not stand on ceremony. He tore off a piece of bun. It felt rough to the touch, yet he wolfed it down, sweetness filling his mouth.

"If anything comes up, call for me." Lu Ze turned and left.

As his hunger receded, Qin Ming became even more alert. The various discomforts in his body were vanishing, and he was certain his lingering ailment was about to leave.

He wanted to go outside for some air and take a walk. Pushing open the courtyard gate, he stepped onto the street. The weather was exceptionally cold, and every breath filled the space before his nose and mouth with white mist.

During Shallow Night—the "daytime" of this era—the fire haze of Sun Stones flowed from every household, lending the street a faint glow as well.

"Qin Ming, are you all right now?" someone noticed him.

"Little Qin, let me have a look." Grandma Zhou from North Street grabbed him and looked him over from left to right, finding that his complexion was far better than the last time she had seen him.

Qin Ming smiled and greeted them, telling them that he truly was almost recovered.

There were not many people at the intersection, and all wore expressions of disbelief. Could someone afflicted with the Strange Illness actually recover?

"Little Qin, even if you're getting better, don't rush to go out. It's dangerous outside now." Grandma Zhou reminded him, looking toward the ink-splashed blackness beyond the village.

The other neighbors also looked worried. The times were bad, and the lack of food was now a major problem. If this continued, people would starve to death.

Qin Ming noticed that Grandma Zhou, once kind and benevolent, now lacked all color in her face. Her body was so thin and frail that a gust of wind seemed enough to knock her down.

After the others left, Grandma Zhou carefully took several pieces of dried Earth Sweet Potato from her pocket and stuffed them into Qin Ming's hand.

Qin Ming hurriedly pushed them back. At such an advanced age, she herself looked hungry. How could he possibly accept the rations she needed to get by?

Every household had cleared the roads near its home, but not thoroughly. Snow remained, crunching beneath his feet as Qin Ming breathed white mist and walked onward.

Near the village entrance, he stopped.

Before a larger courtyard stood a small threshing ground. A Black Mountain Goat, as tall as an adult's shoulder, was pulling a stone mill, grinding silver-grain-like mutant wheat into powder.

Not everyone lacked food. Clearly, the household at the village entrance was doing fairly well.

Qin Ming stared at the Black Mountain Goat, his gaze blazing. Even food and warmth had become problems now, so naturally he had not eaten meat in a long time. He craved it beyond measure.

The Black Mountain Goat was rather large, with thick horns and a somewhat fierce appearance. Sensing Qin Ming's gaze, she seemed startled, and her raised tail immediately drooped.

"Little Qin, you've recovered? Surviving a great disaster means good fortune will surely follow." A sturdy middle-aged man with a full beard stood at the courtyard gate. Thinking Qin Ming was looking at the mutated grain beneath the millstone—Silver Wheat—he continued, "There are many mouths in the household, and we consume it too quickly. This is the last of our stored food as well."

"Uncle Yang, you're impressive. Even in times like these, you can still take care of such a large household." Qin Ming smiled. Of course, he did not believe the man had only one bag of Silver Wheat left.

After greeting Yang Yongqing, he continued all the way to the village entrance.

Fire Spring lay ahead, illuminating the surrounding area brightly.

It was piled and enclosed with stones, forming a pool about sixteen feet square. The stone wall rose no higher than the knee, and within it was a blaze of crimson light.

Though Fire Spring was nearly dried up during this blizzard season and no longer gushed forth in bubbling streams, flames still coiled around it.

Two trees stood in the pool, the origin of Double Tree Village's name. One bore jet-black leaves, the other snow-white leaves, and neither withered in the bitter winter.