"Sharp enough." Qin Ming rose from the whetstone. The chopping knife had shed its rust. The blade was smooth as a mirror, bright as still water.
"If men like Feng Yi'an and Shao Chengfeng die, good riddance. But if decent men in the patrol get caught in it — that would be a shame." He wanted to know.
That evening, Old Liu sat with Xu Yueping. Each had one cup. They sipped in tiny amounts. The jar of harsh spirits was nearly empty.
"A musk deer for a human life. No humanity at all." Old Liu drank and cursed. He couldn't tell the Qian family the truth.
Xu Yueping's deepest fear: if Feng Yi'an and Shao Chengfeng reached Second New Life, everything would get worse.
"Is there no one decent in the patrol?" Qin Ming arrived.
Old Liu sighed. "A basket of pears — when most are rotten, the rest spoil too. A full squad is twelve. This one has nine. The ones who didn't fit were driven out — or had accidents in the mountains."
"Nobody can check them?"
Xu Yueping shook the jar. A few drops fell into Qin Ming's cup. He pulled the boy down to drink.
Old Liu thought. "Other squads have bad blood with them. Disagreements. Competition over spiritual creatures in the mountains. There have been killings between squads."
Xu Yueping added, "Green Mulberry Village wasn't forced to plant Black Moon. The one behind Er Bingzi has real power."
He looked at Qin Ming. "Xiao Qin, you have a solid golden foundation. Make a plan. When spring comes, leave. See the world. Don't get trapped here."
He knew these men. Wolfish. He feared for the boy.
Qin Ming considered. "A plan? I want to know where I came from. Where I fled from as a child."
"You don't mention it — I nearly forgot. I always think of you as one of us." Xu Yueping had no comfort. He changed the subject — the splendor of Chi Xia City, its schools, its high-grade manuals.
Old Liu agreed. "Go. A young man should have fire and dreams. At my age, your legs go soft. You can't go anywhere. Just regret and dust."
Xu Yueping grinned. "Uncle Liu, I heard your ambitions were high in your youth."
Old Liu wasn't embarrassed. "Who wasn't young once?"
"What was your ambition?"
"I wanted to tame a named beast. And marry the most beautiful girl nearby."
"And?"
"I joined a patrol operation. Met the named beast. It charged through — just passing by — and nearly wiped us all out. I lost my vitality. Second New Life was beyond reach forever. And the girl married my rival."
Qin Ming raised his cup. Brutal.
Old Liu chuckled. "Later, I couldn't stomach it. So I married the rival's older sister. Made him call me brother-in-law for the rest of his life."
"Masterful."
Three men. Half a cup each. They made it last all night.
---
Qin Ming went home. He wiped down the iron-bow with monster-glyph engravings. Too weak for him now — he'd snap it if he drew fully.
"Still usable."
He filled the hide quiver with iron arrows. Packed spare clothes in a bundle.
"Tomorrow is mid-month." He looked at the deep black sky.
He slept early. Body and mind tuned to peak.
---
He woke in the deep night. Enough rest. The Shallow Night was still hours away, but he pushed the gate open without a sound.
Total dark. Ordinary people saw nothing. Qin Ming, after New Life, could make out vague shapes. His eyes had upgraded with everything else.
He avoided the fire spring. Took the most remote path out of the village.
Snow had been falling for days. Getting heavier.
His black hair lifted in the night wind. His frame was lean but powerful. Each step was sure. He walked toward the mountains.
The wounded faces of villagers passed through his mind. Uncle Qian's funeral. Feng Yi'an handing over a musk deer with practiced sorrow. A deer for a life.
He could not endure it another moment. Today, he moved against the patrol.
He entered the forest calm and steady. No nerves. No hesitation. As if walking a familiar road home.
---
Beasts howled. Black shapes crossed the sky. In the abyssal forest, malicious eyes appeared — blood-red, green as ghost-fire, silver-cold. All fixed on him. Breathing. Wing-beats. Close. The deep-night mountains were lethal.
Qin Ming accelerated.
A large beast lunged. The chopping knife flashed — a white arc through the dark. The head came off. Six hundred jin of headless body crashed down. Blood sprayed.
Silence. Every eye in the darkness vanished.
He moved on. Behind him, the headless corpse was torn apart by scavengers. Snarling. Feeding.
---
He reached the neighboring peak and watched the patrol base across the gap.
Still before Shallow Night. Someone was already active. A man with curly black hair, nearly two meters tall, feeding bloody meat to the Golden Mastiff.
Fu Entao. Qin Ming recognized the description — naturally curly hair. The strongest man in the squad. Already here.
Four more emerged from the cabins. Feng Yi'an. Shao Chengfeng. Two others.
"They arrived early." Qin Ming frowned. Probably yesterday.
He descended the slope and waited on the path below — the only route to the base. Four members had not yet arrived. He would cut them off first.
---
Snow covered his hair, his shoulders. He stood motionless. A figure in white.
Shallow Night came. The fog thinned. The dark receded enough for a New Lifer to see clearly.
A man appeared. Animal-skin cloak, walking from the direction of the town. Familiar face — he'd been with Feng Yi'an in Silver Vine Town that day.
Qin Ming moved.
Like a thunderclap, he closed the distance and hit the man body-to-body. A dull crack. Bones shattered across the man's torso. His eyes bulged. He tried to scream — couldn't. The hand had already closed on his throat.
Crack. The neck snapped. Qin Ming's grip was so powerful the cervical vertebrae crumbled. The head dangled, held by skin alone. The dead face still held terror and despair.
Qin Ming dragged the body into the deep forest. The man reeked of alcohol and perfume. No wonder his reactions were slow — drunk, hung over from a night of debauchery. A fitting end.
He searched the corpse, dropped it far off, and breathed deep. His heart was pounding. His first kill.
He'd prepared himself mentally. Still — discomfort.
But it passed quickly. He'd hunted in these mountains. He'd seen blood. His mind was hard.
"You planted Black Moon in the fire spring and slaughtered villagers for it. Worse than any beast or raptor in these mountains. Today I end you all. This is justice — what I believe in."
He steadied. These men were not men to him. They were vicious beasts. Dangerous creatures. He would cull them as he culled any predator that threatened the village.
---
The second man came through the snow. Tall. Armored — similar to Shao Chengfeng's gear.
Qin Ming drew the chopping knife. Time to test the edge.
The man approached. In the dark, a flash of blade-light. Qin Ming detonated off the snow. Ten meters — gone in a blink.
The patroller was better than the first. He sensed the threat, Sidestepped, dove for the ground.
A competent New Lifer. Against any ordinary opponent, he would have dodged.
But Qin Ming was faster. He'd predicted the move. The blade swept through — the man's head flew free. Blood arced across the snow. The headless body kept its forward momentum and crashed into a drift.
Qin Ming lowered the knife. Calm this time. No waves.
Heavy snow fell — not drifting but slamming, driven by wind into his face. He looked up.
"Good snow."
Wind and snow would bury every trace.
---
He stood in the storm like a statue with a blade. The third man came. Then the fourth.
No accidents. Both died to the chopping knife in the dim forest. Lightning strikes. Clean.
No discomfort remained. He could smile gently at little Wen Rui. He could also walk into the mountains and butcher a pack of predators that wore human faces and killed villagers for medicine.
Qin Ming walked toward the patrol base. Steady. Alone. The knife hung at his side, still wet.