Memories Reemerged from the Fading

Qin Ming noticed that his childhood self had been dressed very poorly, but he was soon drawn to that booklet.

It was a very thin ancient volume. When opened, it surprisingly contained a Silk Scripture.

Its beast-hide cover should have been bound onto it later. Dark in color, rough yet tough in texture, it had been used to withstand the erosion of time and protect the true scripture.

The first page recorded the Wild Style that Qin Ming knew so well. He knew it inside out. A whisper rose, reading aloud those densely packed words.

Then, that callused hand turned to the second page. The writing was still tiny and continued from the previous page, but part of it contained new text and diagrams. Qin Ming's attention was immediately seized, and he swiftly committed them to memory.

Perhaps there was no need to deliberately memorize them at all. These were faded memories from his childhood. He was undergoing Second New Life; his physical qualities had greatly improved, and his mental awareness had grown stronger alongside them. He was brushing away the dust of time, allowing himself to see scenes from the past again and recall what the Silk Scripture had recorded—things he had already seen.

Half asleep and half awake, Qin Ming wanted to turn to the third page, but his wish was not granted. That large hand did not help him open it.

At this point, he carefully examined the Silk Scripture protected by the tough beast hide.

After being tempered by the years, it had long lost its original luster. It was faintly yellowed, radiating a weathered sort of beauty while carrying the weighty breath of history.

It truly was thin, likely only ten or twenty pages in total.

Qin Ming tried repeatedly to turn the page, yet he could never open the third one.

He stopped trying and instead looked carefully through the mottled passage of time at his younger self. That small figure wore tattered old clothes.

Even in that state between waking and dreaming, Qin Ming was stirred. So his childhood self had lived in such poverty. The already faded little clothes bore several patches, their cuffs long worn through. When he lowered his head, he saw that even his little shoes had holes in them.

He sighed softly, thinking of his later self. In truth, his adolescence had not been much better. He had suffered frostbite and hunger, bled and been wounded. Two years ago, he had wandered to the outskirts of Silver Vine Town, fallen ill, and been brought back to Double Tree Village.

"When I was fourteen..." Qin Ming touched his head. Near the back of it, there had once been a wound that had bled heavily.

He discovered that he was already awake. He was not touching his head in a dream. His fingers passed through his black hair and touched the place that had once been drenched in blood.

There was no scar there anymore. It should have vanished during his first New Life.

"My childhood self, my fourteen-year-old self—two special Nodes, memories so sharply severed apart. Those few faded faces often appear in my dreams."

It was precisely in that fourteenth year that he had drifted from place to place and endured countless hardships. That was why he was now somewhat more mature than those his age.

Qin Ming looked outside. The dense night was gradually receding.

He walked into the courtyard and took a deep breath of icy air. Then he reviewed his childhood memories once more. The contents of the first two pages of the Silk Scripture had all been clearly remembered.

Next, he displayed the movements he had never practiced before, along with the methods for regulating breath and spirit, earnestly pondering and studying them.

Only after a long while did he stop. His body was still scorching hot, but it no longer glowed, making him look fairly normal.

"That rough, large hand..." Qin Ming recalled that its sleeve cuffs had been severely worn and its palm covered in calluses. That showed its owner had lived in the same poverty as his childhood self, in circumstances far worse than Qin Ming's current ones.

The so-called "large hand" had seemed large only in the eyes of his childhood self—powerful, and full of safety.

He truly wanted to see that little hand clasped together with the large one, to make up for the regret of having been unable to see his family for so many years.

"Second New Life isn't over yet. Tonight, I'll continue eating Blood Snake infused with Spiritual Matter. As my physical qualities improve, the power of my mind will grow as well. Perhaps I can see the past again in a subconscious dream, and more faded memories from my childhood will surface."

The moment Qin Ming thought of this, he became radiant with vigor, overflowing with energy. He picked up a stone millstone and weighed it in his hand, finding it rather light.

By his rough estimate, he could now lift fifteen hundred jin.

Shallow Night arrived. Qin Ming washed his burning body again. Today, he did not plan to enter the mountains to hunt. He intended to stay home and study the Silk Scripture he had newly obtained.

"Why did they say it couldn't be cultivated?" He hoped that once deep night came, he could see the reason in his dreams.

It was obvious that the Silk Scripture had no small origin. Someone had carefully preserved it, terrified that it might be damaged.

The wind and snow had stopped, and the night therefore became somewhat lighter. This was what passed for a "sunny day" in an age without the Solar Yang.

Qin Ming studied the Silk Scripture intently. Though he had seen only two pages, the records on them were densely packed, filled with tiny and numerous words and diagrams. More than half the second page was completely new to him. These restored memories needed to be carefully pondered, practiced through, and thoroughly understood.

"Exquisite. What a pity I can't compare it with the Intermediate Meditation Technique, Advanced Willpower Skill, and the like. I have no idea what level it truly belongs to."

In this remote region, Qin Ming lacked New Life Methods. Aside from the Silk Scripture, he had only read the widely circulated Black Night Meditation Art Primer.

The Silk Scripture mentioned Heavenly Light, but only briefly. It also did not explain how to cultivate Heavenly Light Force, much less the Tathagata Force that people revered so highly.

Qin Ming frowned. The Silk Scripture was undoubtedly extraordinary, but why had it failed to explain the immensely important Heavenly Light in detail?

He read it carefully and repeatedly practiced in the courtyard. In the end, he formed a few guesses. The Silk Scripture sought to convey as much as possible with the most concise strokes. If one persisted in cultivating it, Heavenly Light would naturally be born within one's flesh and blood, strengthening one's Essence, Qi, and Spirit.

Yet it truly did not mention how to cultivate Heavenly Light Force.

"The Silk Scripture seems to speak of elevating one's level of life, without any specific means of protecting the Dao?" This guess left Qin Ming somewhat dumbfounded.

In the afternoon, when Shallow Night was at its brightest, Qin Ming rubbed his temples. After studying for half a day, his spirit was slightly fatigued, but he should have thoroughly comprehended the Silk Scripture's new contents.

When he practiced again, his movements became rounded and fluid, without the slightest obstruction. He blended into his surroundings, his gaze focused yet clear, his hair drifting in the wind. His entire person exuded an unrestrained, natural air.

Most importantly, the warm current within his body surged greatly. The silver ripples emerging across his body's surface became somewhat more solid, as though transforming toward Silver Mud.

The Silk Scripture did not say what level one would reach or what state would emerge, so Qin Ming had no way to judge how well he had cultivated.

He stopped to rest. Even merely standing there, he seemed naturally filled with Divine Intent, gaining several degrees of bearing.

"Little Qin, come out quickly. Let's enter the mountains and pay our respects to the ruins." Xu Yueping came to call him.

Qin Ming had originally planned to remain home and contemplate the Silk Scripture, but since he had already studied it thoroughly, there was no harm in going out.

He asked, "What ruins?"

Xu Yueping answered with a smile, "The Mountain Patrol Group's stronghold. Let's see what traces that wise and brilliant Mountain God—uh, no, Mountain Monster—left behind there."

Then he lowered his voice. "And see whether any good stuff was left behind."

This was not a spur-of-the-moment whim. After the leaders of several villages gathered and secretly discussed no longer planting Black Moon, they had jointly decided to take a look at that stronghold.

"Let's go!" Qin Ming nodded.

Recently, even the New Life Evolvers from the villages had to travel in groups of several if they dared go a little deeper into the mountains. Otherwise, the dense forest was exceptionally dangerous now.

Not everyone dared to wander alone through the great mountains as Qin Ming did.

In the end, it all came down to strength.

"There's a pile of fine wine here." Qin Ming called out to Xu Yueping. He was very familiar with this stronghold; the flashes of blades beneath the snowy night could still surface in his mind.

Xu Yueping and Yang Yongqing immediately ran over, overjoyed. Paying respects to the ruins had always meant seeing what useful things had been left behind.

The men of the villages were just as plain and practical.

Old Man Liu smiled until his old face bloomed like a flower. His legs did not even go weak. With a leap of more than half a zhang, he shot over with a whoosh.

Qin Ming laughed. "Grandfather Liu, what do you think? Yesterday, I said I'd honor you with ten jars of good wine. Today, we found such a pile. Let's quickly divide them up and take them away."

"Good, good, good!" Old Man Liu said good three times in a row, itching to break open the mud seals and taste the wine at once.

"Coming to the Mountain Patrol Group's place to dig graves—why does this feel so damn satisfying? Heh heh." Xu Yueping could not stop laughing.

The New Life Evolvers from the other villages were naturally alerted. In the end, Double Shun Village took away more than thirty jars, while the remaining smaller portion was divided among the other villages.

Though Qin Ming had discovered them, he could not keep the spoils all to himself, lest someone cause trouble afterward.

In fact, the Mountain Patrol Group's investigators had come long ago and discovered the wine, but their duties were urgent and they looked down on such liquor, so they ignored it.

After the news spread that day, even more people went there. The Mountain Patrol Group's stronghold was visited by every side for "grave digging."

"Could this person have killed everyone in the Mountain Patrol Group?" Qin Ming was surprised when he saw a portrait after returning from the mountains.

It was the man with the bluish-black face. To say nothing else, the scene of him wielding a sword to kill the Blood Snake had possessed considerable style.

Someone from Silver Vine Town had sent out a stack of portraits, informing every village to remain alert and report any discovery immediately.

The Mountain Patrol Group was no weak organization. The person at its highest level was a great figure from Red Haze City.

"His name is Wang Nianzhu. He looked spirited and heroic—who would have thought he was this sort of person?" Qin Ming had truly not expected that after killing the man, he would see his portrait again and learn his name.

"You didn't die in obscurity either. At the very least, your portrait is being posted throughout every town. For a time, your name has spread across the region, remote though it may be." Qin Ming glanced at it a few times and left. A man whose head he had already blown apart was not worth caring about.

"Still, I hope the Mountain Patrol Group can find out what family he came from and what organization he belonged to." Then he thought of Golden Chicken Ridge and the Three-Eyed Sect. They were also worth watching carefully.

Late at night, after Qin Ming ate Blood Snake meat, the medicinal cuisine's effects quickly rose. His whole body became scorching again and began to glow. Everything was much the same as last time.

Finally, he entered dreamland wearing the Jade Suit Sewn with Gold Threads.

Qin Ming saw his childhood self again. Though poor, with even his little clothes and shoes ragged and torn, he seemed to possess great perseverance, practicing the New Life Method from the Silk Scripture again and again.

"Since it has such an extraordinary origin, why can't it be cultivated?" His younger self was stubborn and resolute, unwilling to give up.

"Someone once truly remarkable cultivated the method in the Silk Scripture and cultivated himself to death. He was even one of its creators." That large hand felt along the beast-hide cover of the Silk Scripture.

"Ah?" Little Qin Ming was still very childish and utterly puzzled.

"Some paths are too brilliant. Other paths have uncertain prospects. A few old fellows were unwilling to accept that. They researched together, wanting to rival those resplendent paths. The theory was excellent, but in the end, after they abandoned their original achievements and switched to this method, some died, some were injured, and some left for the end of the dark earth when little life remained to them. They could not cultivate it successfully—how could those who came after them?" The whisper echoed.

"If it can't be cultivated, why leave it behind?" the child asked.

"The parts that couldn't be cultivated were torn away. Less than half was left, but even this requires the aid of someone who has practiced the method before one can begin. So it is enough to simply look at this Silk Scripture."

"What about the greater half that was torn away?" Little Qin Ming still refused to give up, because this was the only extraordinary method he could obtain.

"Burned."

Little Qin Ming fell silent. He seemed somewhat sad as he lowered his head to look at his little shoes, with his toes sticking out of them.

Shallow Night arrived, and Qin Ming woke.

He sighed softly. He had thought he had obtained a volume of the Heavenly Scripture. It seemed he had been thinking too much. In the future, he would still need to pay more attention to other Advanced Willpower Skills.

Yet he became somewhat lost in thought. No one had helped him, but he had still cultivated the first two pages of the Silk Scripture successfully.

"So what if I did? The later pages of the Silk Scripture were all burned. And even the people who created this method couldn't manage it. After personally testing it, they cultivated themselves to death. So many years have passed; the other few should have long since departed this world."

Qin Ming rose and went into the courtyard, sensing the changes in himself. This Second New Life had been swift and fierce due to the aid of Spiritual Matter. He had already succeeded.

He felt that now, even one arm alone possessed a thousand jin of force.

Two days later, news came from Cao Long, Wei Zhirou, and Mu Qing that the upper ranks would hold a final negotiation with the Top-Tier Aberrants in the great mountains. The location would be at the entrance outside the mountain range.

By then, many people were already waiting there.

Across the snow, a donkey came ambling leisurely forward, treading upon the snow.

"This should be the mount of some great figure from Red Haze City, right?"

As the donkey drew close, people discovered that its back was not empty. A creature sat cross-legged there, yet it was not human. It was an entirely white Weasel, exceptionally quiet, like an Old Monk sitting in meditation.

The very first living being to appear was this strange, leaving many people afraid to speak.