Chapter 9 - 9 6 Golden Age

9: Chapter 6 Golden Age 9: Chapter 6 Golden Age Editor: Henyee Translations Waves stirred in Qin Ming’s heart.

Could it be that the “movements” he had once been told were futile had now fully fused and reached completion?

He returned from the wilderness with what felt like a blaze of fire burning within him.

Even the frigid winter now seemed warm.

The power growing in his body wasn’t a hallucination.

When he nudged a toe under the stone mill in the courtyard, it lifted clean off the ground.

He leapt, hovering midair for a brief, powerful moment, and plucked a handful of snow from the roof eaves.

When he exhaled, a thick stream of white mist shot forward like a spear, bursting forth with a loud whooshing sound that tore through the air.

Qin Ming moved violently with abdominal breathing, his shadow stirring snow into the air, blanketing the courtyard once more in flurries.

When he struck out with his arm, his body followed in unison.

Snowflakes flying ahead of him burst apart instantly.

His flesh and blood surged with vitality.

His body was burning hot, and faint silver patterns danced from his pores, drawing out sweat like a purifying wash.

He felt relaxed, enveloped in a faint silver glow.

To see such a phenomenon during rebirth was rare indeed.

He trained for a long time, expending immense energy.

Only when he truly felt exhausted did he finally stop.

Rebirth was a process, and Qin Ming believed he was in the midst of it.

Within the next few days, his wish would be fulfilled.

Instead of returning indoors, he sat quietly in the courtyard, letting the swirling snow settle on his body.

He wasn’t afraid of the cold; he felt comfortably warm.

This was nothing like before.

Back when he was recovering from his illness, he would shiver even under thick quilts beside the heated brick bed.

Qin Ming closed his eyes and visualized himself internally, replaying the high-difficulty movements he had recently performed, training his awareness and mental focus.

The silver ripples that had just faded now returned.

His breath, guided by intent, grew complex and untraceable.

Where thought moved, energy followed.

The glow on his skin intensified slightly in response.

The courtyard grew silent.

Snow covered Qin Ming’s form.

Only after a long time did he clear his mind entirely, letting go of all thought.

When the final traces of silver light faded, he slowly opened his eyes.

He could sense a vibrant force of rebirth being nurtured within.

Calmly, Qin Ming lifted the 200-pound millstone from the courtyard and set it back down gently.

“Rebirth will likely be complete within two days,” he now understood.

Right then, hunger hit him hard, unsurprisingly so.

Qin Ming cooked a pot of mushroom soup using walnuts, almonds, and chestnuts as the main course, with red dates and hawthorn as side dishes.

He ate heartily.

After sufficient rest, he began a new round of training, eager to speed up the rebirth process.

Qin Ming moved like a drawn bow, his strikes like thunder.

Snow danced wildly across the yard.

His body’s vitality surged ever stronger.

And so, it went—training until exhaustion, resting briefly, feasting on dried fruits, then training again.

From shallow night to deep night, his body pulsed with life.

Before bed, he washed with cold water filled with ice shards, yet he didn’t feel cold at all.

His lean frame had no excess flesh, his muscles taut and smooth.

His wet black hair glistened, and under the fire-hue of the sunstone, his skin gleamed with health and strength.

That night, he slept deeply and dreamlessly.

As his rebirth continued to accelerate, his body radiated fresh vitality.

The next morning, Qin Ming’s appetite surged.

He had increased his meals to seven a day.

The reason: this “postnatal rebirth” consumed immense energy.

Even the tastiest food started to wear on him after so many meals, especially since it was all dry goods.

He had to eat with hot water.

“Too bad there aren’t more mushrooms.

I’d like to make fresh soup,” Qin Ming sighed.

What worried him was that his food supplies were dwindling, and he only had enough for one more day.

“Am I a bottomless pit?

That big hide pouch of food lasted only three days?” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop practicing the movements that aided his rebirth.

When still, he was like a mountain; when in motion, like an eagle streaking across the sky.

The silver light pouring from his pores grew brighter.

He could feel his body strengthening gradually, not all at once.

Qin Ming walked to one side of the courtyard and tried lifting both millstones stacked together.

With a burst of power, he managed to lift them off the ground.

Just then, Lu Ze entered and stood there, dumbfounded.

“Qin, you…?” he said, stunned.

Just yesterday, he had pitied Qin Ming, thinking he might miss his golden window for rebirth.

And now—this.

In the neighboring courtyard, Liang Wanqing also came over after hearing the noise.

When she found out what had happened, she was speechless.

“Just like that sickly kid from the next village, lifting over 200 pounds right after rebirth,” Lu Ze said, genuinely happy for Qin Ming.

“To achieve rebirth during the golden window… You pulled it off,” said Liang Wanqing.

In all these years, he was the first in Shuangshu Village to do so.

“Uncle, you’re amazing!” Wenrui ran over, eyes shining, looking up at him with admiration glowing across his face.

“I think the changes from rebirth are still ongoing,” Qin Ming said.

He now realized the process was taking longer than he’d expected.

It isn’t over yet.

Liang Wanqing looked astonished.

“Even in our region, lifting five hundred pounds during the golden window is already a limit.

Will you go beyond that?”

“They say, in that bright city far away, there are youths who can lift six hundred pounds,” Lu Ze added.

He was eager to see how far Qin Ming would go.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out on the street.

Liang Wanqing stepped out and quickly returned.

“Granny Zhou’s not doing well.”

Qin Ming had just seen her on the road yesterday.

He recalled her frail, pale face.

She had looked unwell.

“What happened?” Lu Ze asked.

“She’s been eating very little lately, and her health wasn’t good to begin with,” Liang Wanqing sighed.

Qin Ming and Lu Ze went out to find out more.

It turned out Granny Zhou’s son had recently gone out for food, returned empty-handed, and was seriously injured.

His right arm was broken.

This winter, every family was short on food.

With her household’s main provider incapacitated, Granny Zhou grew increasingly anxious.

She secretly skipped her meals, eating only tiny amounts to stretch their supplies.

There were already people gathered in the Zhou family’s courtyard.

When Qin Ming and Lu Ze entered the house, they found Granny Zhou lying motionless, her face waxen, breathless.

Her two grandchildren were crying at her side, kneeling, shouting for their grandmother.

Before she passed, she told them where to find food.

Some sweet potatoes and hard flatbread she’d hidden in a basket beneath the snow.

She hadn’t eaten a single nut Qin Ming had given her.

Only now did the family learn she had been saving everything for her injured son and grandchildren, unwilling to take a bite herself.

Zhou Changyu, her son, was heartbroken.

The nearly thirty-year-old man wept uncontrollably, slapping his face, blaming himself for being useless, for not noticing sooner.

His wife was also kneeling, crying endlessly.

Many villagers sighed in sorrow.

In a year like this, the entire region was suffering, lacking food, warmth, everything.

Qin Ming’s chest tightened.

He remembered that just two days ago, when he met Granny Zhou, she had shakily tried to press a few sweet potatoes into his hand.

He didn’t need to guess that those had been her carefully hoarded rations.

Such a good person… gone just like that.

Qin Ming stood there silently for a long time.

After the shallow night ended, people slowly dispersed from the courtyard.

Qin Ming returned with a bag containing five pounds of nuts and handed it to Zhou Changyu.

“Qin…” Zhou Changyu’s eyes were red as he tried to refuse.

He knew how difficult it was to find food out there.

Qin Ming pressed the bag into his hands and turned away without another word.

It was already very late, but the Zhou family’s sobs still echoed in the night.

Qin Ming sat in his dark courtyard.

Others had family to grieve with.

What about him?

The blurry faces in his memory grew even more indistinct.

He feared that one day, they would vanish completely, leaving not a trace.

On this cold winter night, he stared up at the black sky, lost in thought, overcome by a nameless loneliness.

In his heart was a faint glow, flickering figures in the dark, shadows from his childhood.

He longed to see them clearly, but no matter how he reached, those faded memories stayed out of reach.

Suddenly, a chilling presence swept in, overwhelming and oppressive.

Qin Ming’s body tensed instantly.

Two golden lanterns appeared in the pitch-black sky—mysterious, terrifying.

Then, the calm winter night erupted with violent winds.

Snow on the ground rose like a storm.

The rooftops trembled violently, as if about to be torn away.

In the abyss-like sky, those golden lanterns passed overhead, dragging fierce gusts behind them, exuding a crushing pressure that nearly stopped his breath.

Qin Ming’s pupils shrank.

He guessed that it must be a high-tier being—enormous, inconceivable.

Wings spread like clouds blotting out the heavens, passing directly over Shuangshu Village.

Those golden lanterns were its eyes.

As it left, the storm dissipated almost as suddenly as it had begun.

The village stirred.

Many people came outside, murmuring.

Some elders had witnessed such events before.

Though their faces were grave, they reassured the younger ones that it was likely just a high-tier being passing by on its journey.

Qin Ming returned from the street and sat in the courtyard for a long time, staring at the endless night sky.

The darkness veiled the world, blocking all paths to the unknown.

It made the world even more mysterious.

He was stirred by a longing to leave, to travel, to explore the vast lands beyond.

At last, he rose firmly and began practicing the specific sequences of movements he remembered most clearly from his childhood.

Even if he held dreams in his heart, he needed strength to pursue them.

Gradually, the power of rebirth surged within him.

Faint silver mist shimmered across his skin.

After a long time, he felt an overwhelming hunger.

The transformation wasn’t over, if anything, it was intensifying.

Qin Ming drank hot water and devoured another pile of dried goods, but he was still not full.

When thoughts of the mutated squirrel or the black mountain goat from the Yang family flashed through his mind, he couldn’t help but swallow.

He craved meat.

The moment the idea arose, it was like he could already smell the aroma of roasted meat.

He realized this was his body’s signal.

It needed nourishment.

Only after eating another heap of nuts did that intense craving finally ease.

“Looks like… I’ll have to head back into the mountains when shallow night arrives,” he murmured.

He had to answer his body’s call to ensure the rebirth process continued without flaw.

In truth, after giving the Zhou family five pounds of supplies, his food reserves were already running low.

That night passed dreamlessly.

Qin Ming awoke early, ravenous but brimming with energy.

He felt that after all the ongoing transformation, he now likely lifted more than 500 pounds.

“Most importantly, the rebirth isn’t done yet,” he said to himself with anticipation.

What would his final state be?

He began stretching and warming up.

Then he unlocked the “dragon spine” posture.

Starting with a deep bend, then a sharp backward arch.

His spine bent into an exaggerated crescent, joints cracking upward in sequence, muscles trembling with intensity.

From the tailbone, yang energy rose, flowing up his spine to the top of his head.

Qin Ming’s whole body tingled as though electrified.

His pores all opened wide, warmth spreading through him.

He was engulfed in yang energy.

At the same time, a layer of silver light gleamed more clearly across his body.

Without question, it was a significant boost to the rebirth process!

Even before the Shallow Night had fully arrived, Qin Ming had already stepped outside the village.

The dried goods could no longer satisfy him as his appetite was bottomless.

The moment he thought of rock goats, night deer, or black-feathered pheasants sizzling over a bonfire, their fat dripping onto the coals… he could no longer hold back.

Drooling with hunger, he moved like the wind, rushing into the wilderness.