Chapter 25 - 25 17 Harvest

25: Chapter 17 Harvest 25: Chapter 17 Harvest Editor: Henyee Translations “Only one rebirth…” Fu Entao was devastated.

He had undergone his second rebirth years ago with a deep accumulation of strength, yet he was defeated by a boy who had only undergone rebirth once.

One hand supporting his long blade, the other gripping the spear embedded in his thigh, Fu Entao yanked it out, blood gushing in torrents, making his already exhausted body sway unsteadily.

Shao Chengfeng, missing an arm and pinned to the ground by a spear through his abdomen, struggled to pull it out.

But when he saw Qin Ming glance his way, he dropped his remaining arm in despair.

“The entire patrol group… wiped out by a single person.” Shao Chengfeng knew there was no chance of survival.

There was no way Qin Ming would leave any of them alive.

“He’s only been reborn once.

How is he this strong?” murmured Feng Yian, wiping the blood from his mouth.

Qin Ming spoke calmly, “Say something that might interest me.”

“In your dreams!” Fu Entao replied firmly.

He knew his fate was sealed, and even surrender wouldn’t change the outcome.

Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng remained silent.

Normally as fierce and cunning as jackals, they wouldn’t hesitate to beg for their lives if it were even remotely possible, but it wasn’t.

They knew death was inevitable.

“Tell me about the Blood Bamboo Forest,” Qin Ming said, walking up to Shao Chengfeng.

Shao Chengfeng said nothing, staring emptily at the night sky.

He had already begun reflecting on his past, knowing the end had come.

“Not talking?” Qin Ming didn’t waste time.

His machete fell—shlunk—separating head from body.

Shao Chengfeng’s eyes were wide open in death, unable to close.

Qin Ming had made his decision without hesitation.

He hadn’t come to torture them, only to eliminate them.

If they wouldn’t talk, there was no reason to spare them.

He wanted to see if, under the shadow of death, the others might break.

Fu Entao’s face twitched slightly, but his eyes only grew fiercer.

Gripping his blade tightly, he began to move—slowly but purposefully—still trying to attack.

This second rebirther, who had roamed the mountains for years, was unafraid of death.

He had clawed his way through countless deadly battles.

Nearby, Feng Yian lay prone on the ground, pinned by a spear through the back.

He trembled slightly, unable to rise.

Wind and snow howled as Fu Entao, like a humanoid beast, charged with everything he had left, slashing with his sharpest strikes in a final desperate gamble.

After a fierce clash, he gasped for breath, utterly spent.

He had nothing left to give, yet the youth before him still stood tall and vigorous, full of energy.

Shing!

After another exchange, Fu Entao’s right arm was severed, his long blade falling to the snow.

His face turned pale as he stumbled back.

With a spear wound in one leg and now a missing arm, he lost his balance and fell to one knee, panting heavily.

His sweat-drenched hair clung to his head, his face filled with despair and unwillingness.

“Any last words?” Qin Ming asked.

“Use my blade and give me a clean death,” Fu Entao said through gritted teeth.

His left hand trembled, clutching his severed shoulder, blood staining half his body and turning the snow beneath crimson.

“What makes you think I’d grant such a wish?” Qin Ming said, walking forward with the machete.

“You… want to humiliate me?” Fu Entao struggled to rise.

“You think you’re worth the effort?” Qin Ming dashed past, his machete slicing across Fu Entao’s neck.

His head flew into the air, expression still twisted with bitterness as the body collapsed.

Feng Yian, with his face ashen, lay flat, struggling to move.

The spear stuck in him trembled but wouldn’t come free of the frozen ground.

He felt humiliated as the youth now stood in front of him, one foot pressing down on his head.

“Got something to say?” Qin Ming asked, looking down at him.

Feng Yian clenched his fists, then released them.

Panting, he muttered, “Looking for a spiritual creature?

I won’t tell you anything.”

Qin Ming pressed down slightly.

There was a faint crack as part of Feng Yian’s skull fractured.

The pain twisted his face in agony.

Without hesitation, Qin Ming brought the machete down, beheading him too.

As for the Blood Bamboo Forest, he could just ask Old Liu.

In his youth, Liu had lofty ambitions and often entered the mountains with older patrol groups.

He knew all the Fire Spring locations well.

Only the wind remained on the mountain now.

No more clashing blades, no more screams.

The patrol group had been completely wiped out by Qin Ming alone.

“I killed this many people… and didn’t hesitate,” he murmured.

Standing quietly, Qin Ming reflected.

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t viewed them as fellow humans but as mountain monsters threatening the villagers.

He began clearing the battlefield.

The corpses would be thrown off the mountain, buried by beasts of the deep forest, leaving no bones behind.

Frugality was second nature to Qin Ming.

He looted Fu Entao, Feng Yian, and the others.

Under the light of the Fire Spring, shining objects appeared in his hand—Night-silver.

A currency far more valuable than bronze, used in trades with traveling merchants in town.

Round coins with a hole in the center, symbolizing the absence of the sun, hence the name Night-silver.

He soon found something even more precious—Day-gold.

Radiant yellow coins, perfectly round and symbolizing the sun.

They carried people’s hopes and wishes.

Patrollers rarely carried much Day-gold, but he collected eleven coins, a small fortune for an ordinary person.

This wasn’t his first time “finding” Day-gold.

Before his strange illness, he’d found several corpses near a fissure, retrieving both Day-gold and a rare bottle of mineral essence.

Day-gold didn’t circulate much in Yinteng Town, so he never used it, as it would be too conspicuous.

He hadn’t used the beautifully crafted and delicately carved crystal vial either, since he had undergone rebirth on his own after recovering.

He didn’t yet understand mineral essence and didn’t want to waste it.

More importantly, the events tonight will soon erupt.

It was best to stay low-profile and continue passing as a first-time reborn.

“I’ve only undergone rebirth once.

No way I could take on a patrol group, right?

Once this all blows over, and I undergo a second rebirth, no one will question it.”

Qin Ming kept searching for the mountain for spoils.

“Refined armor, master crafted blades… All good stuff.” He ran his hands over the weapons and armor, sighing.

He buried them separately throughout the forest, to dig up later when exploring the Blood Bamboo Forest.

True to form, he looted everyone from head to toe.

Even the golden mastiff wasn’t spared.

He lifted it, seriously considering cutting a chunk of dog meat to make stew in the cabin.

He’d been out since midnight, fighting through mist and snow.

The battle had been long, and he was starving.

But he sighed and gave up.

It’s too risky to linger here.

Time to clean up fast.

Inside one of the cabins, he found a surprisingly cozy setup—thick fur rugs, silver tableware, and exquisitely crafted knives for slicing roast meat.

One of the wine jars released a rich aroma just from being opened.

It was far better than that rough liquor Uncle Yueping used to keep.

He didn’t find much useful inside.

But in the ruined cabin destroyed during battle, he discovered an old blade manual.

Its worn leather pages were curled and frayed.

It had been studied often.

Notes filled its margins, written by different hands, aged with time.

As he flipped through it, Qin Ming recognized familiar forms.

Fu Entao’s blade techniques were only a small part of what the manual contained.

Later chapters referenced “Heavenlight” and even more profound concepts.

He stopped flipping, closed the book, and took it with him.

This old tome was far more valuable than any amount of Day-gold.

After thoroughly looting the place, golden ripples appeared on his skin.

He unleashed powerful punches and kicks, destroying the remaining cabins.

The wind howled, scattering splinters and snow high into the air.

The heavy snow on the ground mixed with falling flakes, leaving no trace of the carnage.

“What a shame about my machete,” Qin Ming muttered, inspecting the blade that was covered in nicks and chips.

It had been forged from fine iron but still couldn’t match patrol-grade weapons.

“Still usable.” He found a whetstone, smoothed out the damage, and re-sharpened the edge.

The blade was slightly narrower now.

He carried all the corpses down the mountain, tossing them into the forest where beasts quickly emerged to drag them away.

As for the four he had ambushed earlier, when he returned, even the bones were gone.

Qin Ming moved the heavy rocks from the snow cave and retrieved his pack.

He changed out of his blood-soaked clothes and armor, put on his usual clean outfit.

He burned or buried the rest.

The Day-gold and blade manual he reburied on the mountain.

Then, he vanished into the forest.

Dragging a hunted animal behind him, Qin Ming returned quietly.

No one knew this gentle-looking youth had just fought a brutal battle.

He boiled a pot of water—rarely did he use hot water—and took a comfortable bath.

His tall, lean frame shimmered under the steam.

He scrubbed carefully, not wanting any scent of blood to remain.

Soon, he appeared at Lu Ze’s home.

“Uncle, what meat is this?” Wenrui came over curiously.

Qin Ming carried a huge slab of fresh meat and smiled.

“It’s delicious.

Dragon meat in the sky, donkey meat on earth.

I caught a wild donkey today.” He’d been craving dog stew, but since he hadn’t eaten the golden mastiff, he’d make up for it with a pot of donkey meat.

Soon, laughter echoed through the house.

“Uncle, the donkey meat is amazing!”

By the steaming copper pot, the injured Lu Ze said, “Qin, since you’ve established your golden foundation, it’s time to consider your second rebirth.”

Qin Ming nodded.

“Don’t worry, Brother Lu.

I know what I’m doing.”

After dinner, he returned home, pondering how to ask Old Liu about the Blood Bamboo Forest without drawing attention.

If there was a chance to achieve a second rebirth early, he didn’t want to delay.

He wanted to venture into the mysterious forest as soon as possible.