Chapter 1 - Eternal Night

On that day, the sun set and never rose again... *** Eternal Night—a world shrouded in darkness, like an unfathomable abyss poised to devour everything. Daylight had long turned into a bygone era, a mere legend. The vast tundra stretched endlessly, whipped by piercing cold winds and battered by a blizzard that piled snow half the height of a person. Twin Tree Village lay half-buried beneath the white expanse. With only forty to fifty families, this village seemed forgotten by time, its houses mere shadowy outlines in the ever-present night. The rooftops quivered slightly under the relentless howling wind, as if they might be torn away. Qin Ming awoke from hunger, his stomach growling incessantly. In the chilling night air, any thought of food made him salivate uncontrollably. Even a hard and cold bun, let alone steaming meat or juicy fruit, would unleash a surge of sweetness in his mouth. In this freezing atmosphere, the stifling darkness was both inside and outside. Qin Ming tightened his grip on his worn-out quilt. Despite the warmth of the heated brick bed, the cold was inescapable. Breathing felt like inhaling shards of ice, leaving a stinging chill in his lungs. Resisting the urge to dwell on food, he calmed himself, lest the mere thought provoke a surge of acid in his stomach. For the first time in a long while, he felt exceptionally alert, not the foggy daze he’d grown accustomed to. Could it be that the "Strange Illness" was finally diminishing? Though starving and frigid, a flicker of hope glimmered in his eyes at the possibility of recovery. With anticipation, he awaited the arrival of "Shallow Night." As time passed, the wind gradually dwindled, and the flurrying snow became sparse and gentle. Next door, movements and murmurs emerged—a young couple, Lu Ze and Liang Wanqing, started their conversation. "Where are you going? Bringing food to Qin Ming again?" Liang Wanqing's voice rose sharply. "He's been through a severe illness, and at sixteen or seventeen, all alone—it's pitiful," Lu Ze replied softly. "Do you realize our own supplies are dwindling? Another mouth to feed, and the children will go hungry!" Wrapped in rising frustration, Liang Wanqing's emotions surged. "The blizzard's stopping. We'll find a way somehow," Lu Ze spoke, gazing into the pitch-black sky. Hearing their dispute, Qin Ming felt a pang of guilt. He resolved not to accept any more aid, knowing that hardship was shared by all in these harsh times. Rising from the heated bed, he donned a quilted coat but still felt the penetrating cold. He managed to find an old fur coat from the cupboard, wrapping it around himself. In the obscured room, he paced and rubbed his hands for warmth. Having endured a month-long illness, his once slender frame had grown gaunt. His long, previously glossy black hair hung duller than before, and his handsome face seemed pale. Yet his eyes shone bright and clear, full of determination despite the traces of illness. A month ago, he had barely escaped the mountains, limbs tinged with black, fighting the fever since. His companions had perished the day they returned. Many believed he wouldn’t survive the clutches of the "Strange Illness," yet he had, and he was evidently improving. The thought of the unknown dangers in the mountains still sent shivers down his spine. Outside, the encompassing darkness was shifting. Like ink in a drop of water, the blackness lightened as "Shallow Night" approached, signifying daybreak. Not much better than "Deep Night," the world remained enveloped in night, obscuring distant scenery. The courtyard gate creaked open, revealing Lu Ze’s sturdy form, shovel in hand, clearing a path through the snow. Qin Ming opened the snow-blocked door, calling out to him, "Brother Lu." Lu Ze carried a shimmering cloth sack that, when emptied into a stone basin, revealed a pile of radiant red stones, their glow cutting through the darkness. These were Sunstones, named after humanity's hopeful longing for a brighter era, illuminating the courtyard with their fiery glow. Lu Ze turned, surprise in his voice, "Qin, you look much better." Qin Ming invited him inside and truthfully explained his newfound lucidity, suggesting his recovery was imminent. Lu Ze praised his robust constitution. To survive the mountain's "Strange Illness" was no small feat. He emptied the remaining glowing stones into the room’s copper basin, filling the space with light. Sunstones, sourced from the "Fire Spring," shimmered with a fiery aura but had a lower temperature than human skin. They extinguished after a few hours and needed to be returned to the "Fire Spring" to recharge. "Here," Lu Ze passed him a food box. For a month, Qin Ming had subsisted on Lu Ze’s charity, his own reserves long depleted. Knowing the couple’s own limited resources filled him with guilt after overhearing their earlier quarrel. "Eat while it’s hot," Lu Ze urged with sincerity, ever-honest and grateful—after all, it was Qin Ming’s persistent calls in the dense, endless forest that had guided Lu Ze back when he was lost. The sight of the steaming, coarse black bun triggered an overwhelming hunger, making Qin Ming swallow involuntarily. "Why stand there? Recovery won’t happen on an empty stomach, you know," Lu Ze chided, placing the food box firmly in his hands. "Brother Lu!" Qin Ming eventually relented, tearing into the rough bread with fervor, savoring the sweetness despite its coarseness. "If you need anything, call me," Lu Ze said as he took his leave. Sated, Qin Ming felt revitalized; his ailments seemed to be fading. Convinced the sickness was leaving him, he craved the fresh air outside to clear his mind. Opening the courtyard gate, he stepped into the street, breath escaping in white plumes. "Shallow Night," the current era's "daytime," lent a faint glow to the streets thanks to the Sunstones casting their fiery haze. "Qin Ming, you’re up and about?" "Little Qin, let me see," Grandma Zhou from North Street called, inspecting him with concern. Noticing how much better he appeared since their last meeting, she smiled warmly. Qin Ming returned the greetings cheerfully, confirming his recovery. Though sparse, the villagers at the intersection looked on in disbelief, questioning how one could recover from the "Strange Illness." "Even if you’re improving, don’t rush outdoors. It’s dangerous now," Grandma Zhou cautioned, glancing towards the ink-black horizon beyond the village. The other neighbors also wore grim expressions. The harsh times have made food scarcity a dire dilemma, a threat of starvation looming if it continued unchecked. Observing Grandma Zhou’s thin frame and pallor, far removed from her once robust demeanor, worried Qin Ming. After the others left, Grandma Zhou cautiously pulled a few pieces of dried yam from her pocket, pressing them into Qin Ming’s hands. He immediately returned them, refusing to take the old woman’s meager rations, unable to bear the thought of using her provisions. Each household had cleared paths around their homes, but the snow was not entirely removed, the crunch beneath his feet resounding as Qin Ming exhaled frosty breaths, continuing onwards. Close to the village’s edge, he paused. A larger courtyard housed a small threshing floor, where a towering black mountain goat, as tall as a man’s shoulder, circled a stone mill, grinding wheat as luminous as silver grains—Silver Wheat. Not everyone faced food shortages. Clearly, the household here fared better. Qin Ming’s gaze lingered on the black goat, a yearning for meat he hadn’t tasted in ages stirring within him. The goat stood with imposing stature and thick, robust horns, its demeanor fierce. Feeling Qin Ming's gaze, it startled, its tail dropping. "Ah, Qin, you’ve recovered? Blessed with fortune after surviving such trials," a burly middle-aged man with a full beard greeted from the courtyard gate, mistakenly thinking Qin Ming eyed the Silver Wheat under the mill's stone. "We have many mouths to feed; this is our last reserve of grain," he claimed. "Uncle Yang, it's impressive how well you manage your sizeable family even in times like this," Qin Ming chuckled, though he didn’t believe for a second that this was all Yang Yongqing had left. After a brief exchange with Yang Yongqing, Qin Ming ventured to the village's boundary. Ahead was the "Fire Spring," bathing the surroundings in brightness. Constructed of stone and enclosed, it formed a rectangular pool about five yards across, with low stone walls around it. Inside, a vibrant, fiery glow emanated. Although the "Fire Spring" could barely sustain itself in the harsh blizzard season, its light continued to flicker warmly. Within the pool stood two trees, Twin Tree Village's namesake. One adorned with deep black leaves, the other with snowy white foliage—undying through the harshest winter.