Dim night. Mountains rose in silence — larch, hazel, birch, bare branches holding white snow.
Qin Ming crossed several ridges. The terrain had shifted. This was no longer the outer range.
On the way, he'd passed abundant wildlife — game animals, calling birds. Here, everything fell silent. Only wind.
The grove's reputation kept the mountain's creatures away.
In the deep cold of winter, it was quiet. When the fire springs grew active and the snakes hunted, the silence would be absolute.
He stopped at a valley's mouth and looked in.
Blood Bamboo Grove. The bamboo stood in dense stands — every stalk and leaf a translucent crimson, like coral growing from the snow. Snow dusted the red. Beautiful.
"Good place," Qin Ming murmured.
No one came here for scenery. The snakes' reputation kept even patrollers away.
No fire-spring glow rose from the valley. The spring appeared dead.
But Qin Ming didn't step in. The frozen ground likely held residual heat. The spring might not be fully extinguished.
He circled. Climbed the slope. From the high ground, he scanned the valley's center.
There. A faint red glow — barely visible. An ember.
He pulled back. Went to a zone thick with game and caught a snow hare.
"Sorry." He carried the fat hare back to the ridge above the grove. Threw it — hard — toward the red glow at the valley's heart.
The hare struck the snow with a muffled boom. Close to the ember. Very close.
A red line shot out. Crossed the snow at stunning speed. Pierced the hare through the body.
Qin Ming's focus sharpened to a razor edge. Golden ripples flickered across his skin. His eyes locked on the valley's center.
A Blood Snake. Three feet long. Body like refined iron — capable of brief flight, launching like an arrow to punch through prey.
"Difficult creature. And this is a small one. If something several meters long shows up..." He frowned.
Worse: the snake was still active in this cold. It could move through snow and ice for short periods. Not fully dormant.
More red lines emerged from the ember. Several small snakes — three, four feet each. These didn't shoot like arrows. They crawled across the snow, reached the hare, and drove their iron heads into the body.
Spiritual creatures didn't follow ordinary rules. The cold affected them — but not enough, not fast enough.
"Winter supplement for you, is it? Bonus meal?" Qin Ming watched the snakes drink the hare's warm blood.
They fed fast — unwilling to linger in the cold. Soon they retreated toward the ember.
Two didn't. They streaked through the bamboo, scanning. Patrolling.
Then a larger head emerged from the ember. Flicking its red tongue. Sensing.
"Tricky." These creatures were strong, alert, and far more dangerous than other mutants.
He considered poison — bait laced with toxin. But the large snake showed no interest in feeding, and the small ones always tested food with one snake first. The approach wouldn't work.
He watched the two scouts complete their circuit. Their speed dropped noticeably toward the end. They returned to the ember and vanished.
"The cold affects them. Good news." He came down the slope and headed back.
He needed to bring weapons. If he entered the grove, he'd wear three or four layers of patrol armor. One pierce from an iron-hard snake head through the skin meant death — New Lifer or not.
He returned shortly with the cached iron spears and armor, hidden near the grove.
"For snakes, Fu Entao's blade is better than the hammer." Heavy weapons crushed skulls — but for thin, fast serpents, a sharp blade was the right tool.
He calculated. When would the spring die completely? The longer he waited, the weaker the snakes. But time was short — the final negotiations would wrap up within days.
"I spooked them today. They're alert. Come back tomorrow." He withdrew. Tight schedule, but one day wouldn't matter.
"Can I handle this nest?" On the way home, he thought about it. Feng Yi'an and Shao Chengfeng had wanted the grove. He'd killed them all. But he wouldn't be careless.
---
On the trail, he spotted movement. Three large birds — no, three massive flightless birds, running fast through the timber. Each carried a rider.
Golden Ridge Roosters. Over two meters tall, powerfully built, capable of carrying a human through rough forest at speed. Only Golden Ridge bred them.
Golden Ridge sat far away. A near second-tier fire spring. Originally a bandit stronghold — later absorbed. Their roosters were useful enough that even patrollers hired their Golden Riders for mountain reconnaissance.
Three roosters, three riders. One wore armor that gleamed — fine make, unlike anything local. Not Golden Ridge's style.
"Redcloud City?" Qin Ming noted the black armor's design — different from the Cao, Wei, and Mu families. Another house.
They weren't heading toward the grove. He let them pass.
Near the mountain's edge, dragging his kill, he found four more New Lifers.
Two wore black robes — metal-thread fabric, covering everything including their faces. Not local. The other two were villagers — thirty-ish, ordinary.
One of the locals smiled. "Hey, brother — you know where the fissure with the silver glow is?"
They were hunting nodes. The robed pair was likely from Redcloud City.
"Straight that way, three li." Qin Ming pointed. The fissure was no secret.
"Guide us there. We'll give you a Night Silver." The man smiled wider.
Qin Ming stepped back. "I'm scared of that place. Dangerous. And I need to hurry — haven't caught game in days. My mother's starving."
"Let's go." One of the black-robed figures spoke. Young voice.
Qin Ming turned to leave.
Then the black-robed figure said: "Kill him. Too many people know we're here."
The words landed like a blade. Casual. A life sentenced in one sentence.
Qin Ming froze. He'd met Cao Long, Wei Zhirou, Mu Qing — city nobles who were civil. Whatever they really thought, they maintained courtesy. These two were different. Murder without a flicker of emotion, delegated to hired locals.
"Brothers, we're all from around here. You can't do this." Qin Ming tried.
One of the locals smiled. "Sorry. We serve the Three-Eyed Church. We follow their orders."
The two advanced.
Qin Ming moved. A panther's burst — a blur where he'd stood. His left hand drove the short sword across both men's throats. One pass. Two cuts.
The Three-Eyed Church men collapsed, choking. They'd expected a frightened hunter with a small rock sheep — not this. Too fast to react.
The black-robed pair saw Qin Ming charge. Saw the dark-gold hammer come off his back. Their faces changed.
Right hand — hammer to the skull of one. Left hand — short sword to the chest of the other.
Metal screamed. Three bodies collided.
In the first exchange, Qin Ming read them. One was a Second New Lifer. The other — single New Life. No threat.
He focused everything on the stronger one.
Before today, this might have been a prolonged fight. But the blade manual had transformed his technique. Not enlightenment — a real, sharp leap.
The Second New Lifer's blade rang off the hammer — his arm went dead. The hammer came back at a speed he couldn't track. It caved in his chest. Blood poured from his mouth. Done.
"Trade blades with me?" Qin Ming held the hammer in a blade grip. He didn't look at the dying man. He turned to the last one.
The surviving robed figure had been knocked back. His companion was dead in seconds. A hunter boy — this strong?
He ran.
"Throwing Blade." The hammer launched. The man's head came apart.
Qin Ming cleaned up fast. Wiped the hammer with snow. Collected his kill. Left.
Unease settled in. Too many people in the mountains — different factions, different agendas. He couldn't leave the grove unwatched.
After dinner, he went back.
"Each day the spring dims. That helps me. But I have to watch for competitors." He settled in to wait.
Near deep night, he left. No one would strike in true darkness — snakes could see fine, but New Lifers couldn't.
Next morning, early. The red glow in the valley's center had faded further.
Good. He'd wait a little longer. No later than the end of today's Shallow Night.
An hour later, the entire range lit up. Earth-light surged — radiant columns rising, a rain of light filling the sky. The world blazed.
Qin Ming stared. Beautiful. The red bamboo and white snow together, washed in falling light — stunning.
Then he noticed. Figures approaching. A group, moving toward the grove.
He didn't panic. He faded into shadow. Let them come. If they were after the snakes, they could test the nest first.