Chapter 6 - The Golden Age

Qin Ming's heart stirred with tumultuous waves, questioning if the "Unorthodox Methods" he had once been told he could never master had somehow become seamless and unlocked within him. Returning from the wilderness, he felt a blaze within, as if even the winter chill was now a warm breeze. Every fiber of his being surged with power—no longer a mere illusion. With a flick of his toe, the stone mill in the courtyard was suddenly lifted into the air. He leapt skyward, feeling a strong sensation of weightlessness, and snatched a handful of snow off the eaves. As he exhaled, a white stream of vapor shot forth like a spear, a thunderous whoosh accompanying its flight. Performing furious diaphragmatic breathing, Qin Ming's figure danced like a phantom amidst swirling snow, stirring it into a new snowstorm in the yard. A swing of his arm sent the fluttering snowflakes bursting apart. His vitality soared, body ablaze; silver patterns interwove through his pores, expelling a torrent of sweat, as if purifying his body. Enveloped in a gentle silver glow, Qin Ming felt an unparalleled ease. Such a spectacle during "rebirth" was exceedingly rare. Qin Ming trained rigorously, expending much energy, stopping only when fatigue truly set in. Rebirth is a gradual process, and Qin Ming sensed he was evolving, soon to fulfill his aspirations. He chose not to return indoors, opting to sit calmly in the courtyard, letting the snowflakes, now earthbound, land softly upon him—undeterred by the relentless cold, his body remained warm. This was an entirely new experience; his previous illness had left him chilled even under thick layers on the fire-heated brick bed. Closing his eyes, Qin Ming visualized himself within, replaying those difficult movements in his mind, cultivating his focus. The silver ripples that had just faded once again emerged, his breathing, driven by intense concentration, changed, becoming intricate and unfathomable. Thought rose from the spirit, breath moved by will; the shimmering light on his skin brightened slightly in response. An enveloping silence embraced the courtyard as Qin Ming was buried under a gentle blanket of snow. Time slipped by, his mind emptied of thoughts and desires, achieving a meditative void. Only when the silver light vanished entirely did he open his eyes, feeling the profound changes within. A vigorous force of new life was undeniably burgeoning in his core. Casually, he lifted the two-hundred-pound millstone in the courtyard before setting it back down with ease. "Rebirth will likely complete in two days," he estimated confidently. At that moment, hunger seized him unexpectedly, an intense craving that could not be ignored. Qin Ming cooked a pot of mushroom soup, making walnuts, almonds, and chestnuts the main course, with red dates and hawthorn as side dishes, relishing the meal. Having rested adequately, he embarked on a new round of training, hoping to hasten the "rebirth's" progress. Moving with explosive strength, his actions thunderous as crackling lightning, the snow around him spun in a whirlwind, while his vitality surged ever stronger. In this rhythm, he trained until exhaustion, then took brief naps; hunger brought forth feasts of dried fruits, and upon recovery, he resumed training—from Shallow Night into Deep Night, a vibrant life force continuously coursing through him. Before sleep, cold water laced with ice chips was his bath; unbothered by the cold, his lean, muscular frame gleamed, no excess flesh hampered by the droplets sparkling on his damp black hair. Under the crimson glow of the Sunstone, his skin seemed to shine with vigor, exuding an undeniable strength. He slept dreamlessly, sinking into the deepest layers, imbued with youthful vigor by the accelerating rebirth. The following day, Qin Ming's appetite expanded, now requiring seven meals. The reason? The postnatal transformation demanded immense energy. Repetitively, even the most delicious meals became tiresome, especially with solely dry goods needing hot water to aid in eating. "It's a pity, not many mushrooms left for more fresh soup," he lamented. What concerned him further was the dwindling food supply—barely enough for another day at this rate. "Am I a glutton? Half a beast-skin bag of dried goods lasts just three days," he mused. Despite the urge to stop the helpful "methods" for rebirth, he was like a mountain at rest, but like a hawk soaring across the sky when moving—silver light growing ever brighter from his pores. He felt his physical baseline strengthening steadily, not an instant transformation but an enduring progression. Qin Ming moved to a side of the courtyard, attempting to lift both millstones together; exerting unexpected force, he managed to shift them off the ground. Lu Ze entered through the courtyard gate and stood there, gaping. "Xiao Qin, what's this…" Astonished, Lu Ze remarked, remembering how yesterday he had lamented Qin Ming's potential lost to age, yet today witnessed such a scene. In the neighboring courtyard, Liang Wanqing, upon hearing the commotion, came over and was similarly stunned by the revelation. "Just like that sick boy from the next village, who could lift over four hundred pounds upon rebirth," commented Lu Ze, genuinely happy for Qin Ming. "In this Golden Age, Xiao Qin truly accomplished it," Liang Wanqing noted, highlighting Qin Ming as Twin Tree Village's first in many years. "Uncle, you're amazing!" Wen Rui ran over, his big, bright eyes full of admiration as he looked up at him, his small face glowing with awe. "I feel the changes of rebirth are still ongoing," Qin Ming said, aware the duration was exceeding his expectations, with no end in sight yet. "Could it be that even in this region, where reaching five hundred pounds post-rebirth is the limit, Xiao Qin might surpass that?" Liang Wanqing speculated in amazement. Rumors spoke of those in the distant Bright City capable of lifting six hundred pounds. Lu Ze was curious to see Qin Ming's final transformation. Suddenly, a clamor rose from the street. Liang Wanqing went to investigate and quickly returned. "Grandma Zhou's health has worsened," she announced. Qin Ming had seen her just yesterday on the road; recalled her frail, bloodless complexion, indeed seeming unwell. "Why?" Lu Ze asked. They learned of Grandma Zhou's plight: Her son, who had recently traveled afar, returned without food and severely injured, his right arm broken. That winter, food was scarce in every household. As the family's pillar was incapacitated, Grandma Zhou worryingly rationed her own food for the family, eating next to nothing herself. In the Zhou family courtyard, a small crowd had gathered. As Qin Ming and Lu Ze entered, they found Grandma Zhou, motionless, her complexion yellowed, devoid of life. Two crying children kneeled nearby, tearfully calling for their grandmother. Before her passing, she had told them where she hid food—root vegetables and hardened bread stored in bamboo baskets beneath the snow. Even the nuts Qin Ming had given her remained untouched. Today was the first her family knew of her sacrifices, conserving her portion out of fear that her son, Zhou Changyu, might never bring back food—dreading her grandchildren might starve, she willingly starved herself. The harsh truth shattered Zhou Changyu; the nearly thirty-year-old man wept openly, self-blaming and lamenting his failure to notice sooner. His wife knelt by his side, mourning with inconsolable sobs. In the courtyard, many sighed, witnesses to a region plagued by disaster and famine; a struggle for everyone. Qin Ming felt a knot tight in his chest. Just two days ago, he'd seen the pallid Grandma Zhou, who had shakily offered him a few dried root vegetables. Realization hit painfully—those were treasures she discreetly spared from her daily rations. Such a kind-hearted soul, now gone. Qin Ming stood silently, reflecting on the loss for a long while. As Shallow Night ended, people gradually dispersed. Qin Ming returned, bearing a cloth bag containing five pounds of nuts, offering it to Zhou Changyu to ease his condolences. "Brother Qin!" Zhou Changyu protested with red-rimmed eyes, aware of the difficulty in sourcing food in the wild these days. Qin Ming insisted, leaving the bag in his hands before walking away. It was late; sobbing from the Zhou family still echoed. Sitting in his dark courtyard, Qin Ming reflected on the fact that, unlike others who could mourn with their kin, he felt a searing isolation—his memories of the familiar faces he sought to remember were fading, gradually slipping beyond recollection. On that cold winter night, gazing up at a sky devoid of stars, he felt engulfed in a unique solitude, a tapestry of ghostly lights and silhouettes danced in his mind. Yet every attempt to reach and clarify those sepia-toned childhood memories was in vain. Abruptly, a hair-raising presence swept around him; an oppressive force tightened his senses—two golden orbs materialized in the pitch-black sky, mysterious, intimidating! Then the serene winter night transformed into a tempestuous gust; snow erupted from the ground, roofs trembled ominously as if ready to be torn asunder. Out of the abyssal darkness, those golden lantern-like eyes surged across the heavens, accompanied by fierce gales, radiating an overwhelming pressure that threatened suffocation. Qin Ming's pupils contracted; he speculated it was a high-tier creature—enormous and unfathomable, with wings like ominous clouds, passing over Twin Tree Village. Its golden eyes, as it moved away, allowed the sudden tempest to quickly diminish and disperse. Villagers were drawn out by the commotion, their discourse buzzing. Elderly, with worn faces, shared their accounts of comparable experiences, cautioning the younger with a grave optimism that it was only a passing high-tiered being, traversing the land. Returning from the street, Qin Ming sat in the courtyard for a lengthy spell, eyes again on the sprawling night sky. The all-encompassing darkness seemed to sever all paths to the unknown, casting the world in shadow and mystery. Yet a wave of determination swelled within him—a determination to venture outward, to explore the vast uncharted lands. Finally resolved, he rose with renewed focus, practicing the series of well-remembered motions from childhood. No matter the yearning, strength was essential. Gradually, an overwhelming force of rebirth coursed through him, a delicate glow enshrouding his form. Eventually, an unprecedented hunger gnawed at him. The rebirth was still fiercely active, seemingly more intense now. Qin Ming, gulping down warm water, devoured large heaps of dried foods yet felt no satiation. Imagining the taste of Mutated Red Squirrel or the black goat at the Yang Yongqing's home made him drool involuntarily. The craving for meat was undeniable—a fleeting thought muddied with aromatic memories; his body signaled an urgent need for nutrition. Only after consuming another mound of nuts did the powerful hankering subside. "It seems when Shallow Night arrives, another trip to the mountains is necessary," he noted—heeding his body’s call, ensuring the rebirth posed no issues. Indeed, after gifting five pounds of dry goods to the Zhou family, his own rations ran low, insufficient for an extended period. Uninterrupted by dreams, Qin Ming rose with dawn, hungered but exuberant, speculating that his new strength surpassed even five hundred pounds during transformation. "Most importantly, rebirth is still unfolding," he marveled, eager to see its culmination. He began stretching, loosening his muscles. Following this, Qin Ming exercised the Dragon Back, first bending forward, then fiercely arching backward, forming a dramatic convex crescent. His spine cracked, reverberating upwards as muscle vibrated intensely. Starting from the coccyx, energy surged upwards along the spine to the head, his entire form twitching with electric exhilaration, bathed in warmth, smothered in radiant energy. More radiant than before, the silver light wove around him—boosting rebirth significantly! Before Shallow Night fully arrived, Qin Ming was already outside the village, seeking to quell the insatiable hunger no longer curable by nuts alone—his stomach bottomless. Images of wild goats, nocturnal deer, and black-feathered pheasants roasting over crackling fires, their juices sizzling on hot coals, tormented him with irresistible yearning. His pace quickened, eager to plunge headlong into the wilderness.