Subscribe to the MTL WORLD (@mtlworld1) YouTube Channel.
***********************************
Novel: [Night Without Borders]
Chapter 67: [A Pig in the Palm]
Author: [Chen Dong]
Translator: [Shadow Knight AK]
Editor: [Shadow Knight AK]
***********************************
"Chonghe, why don't you come back with me? There might still be a chance to resolve this," Cui Hong suggested.
Upon hearing this, Qin Ming immediately retreated several steps backward.
The dark desert seemed to swallow him whole, his silhouette vanishing into the darkness.
How could he possibly return to the Cui Clan?
The two years since his memory loss had forced him to abandon his former thoughts and re-evaluate his past.
Now, his perspective and judgment were completely different.
He felt as though he had leaped off his original life trajectory, escaping a turbulent and dangerous river that had been dragging him forward.
With a fresh start before him, he would never willingly step back into that current.
Retreating further into the desert was Qin Ming's instinctive reaction.
He absolutely couldn't allow himself to be dragged back into the quagmire of the Cui Clan; otherwise, he would truly be in grave danger.
"Chonghe, why are you reacting like this? Why this expression?" Cui Hong sighed, seeing Qin Ming's defensive posture and constant retreat.
It was clear that the Cui Chonghe before him now regarded the Cui Clan as a monstrous threat, unwilling to touch or associate with them.
He had even declared that he would live only for himself.
"Are you trying to force me?" Qin Ming asked, drawing his Jade Iron Sword. "Even if I'm no match for you, I won't surrender without a fight."
"Hmm?" Cui Hong was surprised.
The sword stance Qin Ming had adopted exuded the aura of a true master of the Sword Dao, far exceeding his expectations.
He even had the fleeting impression that, regardless of the youth's actual strength, he already possessed the bearing of a Sword Dao Grandmaster!
"Huh?" On the rugged mountain path, Meng Xinghai, concealed in the mist, showed a hint of astonishment as he watched from afar.
How could a mere sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy possess such profound mastery of the Sword Dao?
Cui Hong refrained from using his Heavenly Light, instead extending his long arm and casually striking forward.
He wanted to test whether Qin Ming truly had any real skill in the Sword Dao.
The Jade Iron Sword, painted with mineral pigments, was slightly shorter than Qin Ming's arm, including the hilt.
In his hands, it unleashed a sword flash accompanied by the roar of wind and thunder, like a dark rainstorm suddenly illuminated by a blinding bolt of lightning tearing through the night sky.
With a sharp rip, a corner of Cui Hong's robe was severed and fluttered to the yellow sand below, leaving him momentarily stunned.
Though he had restrained his Heavenly Light and casually extended his hand to suppress himself, fearing he might harm the young master before him, the young master should have been utterly incapable of landing a blow.
What level of existence was he?
How could a mere youth who had barely stepped into the Awakening Realm (Nascent Realm) sever a corner of his sleeve?
No one would believe such a tale.
Cui Hong stared with a complex expression at the tall figure now completely shrouded in darkness.
In the distance, Meng Xinghai also wore a look of astonishment, murmuring, "The Cui Clan's talents are truly extraordinary. I thought I was mistaken, but this young man's pure swordsmanship alone qualifies him as a master. His mastery of the Sword Dao is profound!"
Li Qingyue was surprised.
She knew Meng Xinghai himself was a sword wielder, so such praise from him meant the youth's skill was truly exceptional.
She recalled that night when Qin Ming single-handedly leveled Golden Rooster Ridge, slaying two Fourth Stage of Awakener bandits.
Afterward, veteran mountain rangers analyzed the scene and concluded that at least three assailants had been involved, each specializing in sword, spear, and arrow.
Li Qingyue now realized that the word "specializing" hardly captured the true depth of Qin Ming's mastery of the Sword Dao.
"Chonghe, you've truly surprised me," Cui Hong said. "Come back with me and let's see what we can do."
"See what we can do?" Qin Ming would never entrust his fate to someone else's "goodwill."
The Cui Clan could sever his path to rebirth with a mere thought.
Why risk it?
He retorted, "You've already admitted that even mastering the Silk Book's techniques would be useless. How much less would my meager achievements in the Sword Dao matter? I won't go with you."
Cui Hong fell silent, deciding to subdue Qin Ming first.
Lingering in this dark desert made him uneasy; he didn't want to tempt fate and attract any "legends."
"Stop!" Meng Xinghai shouted, his figure flashing across the desert to intercept.
Li Qingyue, graceful as a celestial maiden, glided across the sand to join him.
Cui Hong had sensed their approach long ago.
Unwilling to complicate matters, he swiftly reached out to seize Qin Ming.
But as Meng Xinghai moved to block him, he suddenly withdrew his hand, his expression shifting strangely as he retreated several steps.
"You promised to repay your debt to me!" Qin Ming hissed urgently in the darkness.
"I'm about to be crippled! Why aren't you helping me?"
"Bang!"
Cui Hong's right hand throbbed with excruciating pain, as if he had been kicked by a Savage Dragon.
Stumbling backward through the yellow sand, he retreated over ten meters.
"Hiss!" He sucked in a mouthful of cold, dusty air.
His right hand felt numb with pain, the sensation eerily similar to when he had been kicked by a donkey as a child.
He lowered his head to examine his hand.
Thanks to his heightened senses, he could see clearly even in the desert's darkness at close range.
His palm was stamped with a crimson mark, so red it looked like it was about to bleed.
Upon closer inspection, Cui Hong realized it was a hoofprint.
"That hand is surprisingly tough," a muffled voice chuckled from the darkness. "How do you humans describe this situation? Something about a rock in a latrine, right?"
Qin Ming remained silent, offering no comment.
After all, Cui Hong had once saved his life, regardless of whether it was his duty or not.
Cui Hong stared into the darkness and saw Qin Ming's right hand cradling a miniature wild boar, slightly longer than a palm.
He had clearly been kicked by a pig!
Li Qingyue, using her special pupil technique, gazed at the small mountain pig and sensed an overwhelming danger, as if a colossal beast loomed within the night mist.
"The Mountain Lord of Black White Mountain?" Meng Xinghai asked.
Cui Hong's expression shifted dramatically.
It was the Mountain Lord himself, the very being he had come to seek help from, now transformed into a miniature pig resting in his palm.
The Mountain Pig sighed, "Alas, lost pig here. I'm the former Mountain Lord. You must have met the new one—immeasurably profound, isn't he? He's already taken my place, though he's kept it quiet, without making a fuss."
Qin Ming stood his ground, conversing with Cui Hong, his confidence bolstered by the presence of the Mountain Pig.
Last night, despite the pig's thunderous snoring, it had spoken to him: "Since we've crossed paths, I'll repay a debt along the way, settling a karmic debt from these mountains."
Qin Ming still didn't know what debt the pig intended to repay, but its ability to change size and speak human language suggested formidable power.
Without the Mountain Pig, Qin Ming would have had to resort to desperate measures, "offending" this terrifying desert with extreme methods.
"Mountain Lord, are you interfering in the affairs of the Cui Clan?" Cui Hong demanded.
The Old Mountain Pig chuckled. "How dare I? The Cui Clan—a thousand-year-old lineage whose name shakes the boundless, dark world, striking fear into all creatures. I wouldn't presume to overreach myself. I merely promised to protect him on this journey."
Cui Hong's expression flickered between dark and uncertain.
He knew he was no match for the Mountain Lord. Moreover, these deposed rulers were the most dangerous to provoke.
If he refused to show respect and angered it, it would stop at nothing.
Having already lost its territory, it could simply plunge into the endless darkness afterward, making pursuit nearly impossible.
He nodded. "Very well. Since the Mountain Lord has spoken, we'll wait until we've passed this stretch."
Meng Xinghai turned to Cui Hong. "Brother of the Cui Clan, what's your name? How could you bear to cripple such a prodigy of the Sword Dao? If you don't want him, name your price and let me take him."
Cui Hong quickly learned Meng Xinghai's identity.
No wonder he spoke with such confidence—he too hailed from a thousand-year-old aristocratic clan.
Moreover, Cui Hong recognized the young woman beside him: Li Qingyue.
He remembered her vividly. Years ago, when scions of the great clans had gathered in a colossal city to await the arrival of Outsiders seeking disciples, Li Qingyue had ultimately been chosen by a renowned figure.
Meng Xinghai's expression shifted.
Having now identified Qin Ming, he recalled fragments of the incidents from two years ago.
He was surprised to encounter Cui Chonghe here.
"I've heard whispers," Meng Xinghai said. "If the Cui Clan were to crush him in this remote place, it would tarnish your reputation for benevolence and gratitude. That wouldn't be wise."
At the same time, he pointed at Li Qingyue and said, "The Cui Clan can't silence both of us, can they? After all, we both saw everything."
Cui Hong's expression darkened.
A bloody conflict, let alone war, within a thousand-year-old clans?
What was he thinking?
That would cause catastrophic consequences.
In Qin Ming's fragmented memories, scattered threads were now beginning to connect.
He quickly declared, "From this day forward, even if it means death, I will never again claim to be a member of the Cui Clan. I will never set foot in your circles again. From now on, I am simply Qin Ming."
Two years ago, he had been unable to comprehend certain truths.
But now, even the faintest clues sparked his awareness.
Qin Ming's greatest desire now was to reach the Fourth Stage of Awakening as soon as possible, to pierce through the fog of mystery, to understand his past experiences without relying on others' accounts.
Cui Hong retorted, "When has the Cui Clan ever been ungrateful? I have a feeling that within a few years, the Young Master will be invited back."
Hearing these words, Qin Ming felt no desire to respond.
Meng Xinghai interjected, "In that case, you should send a messenger bird back to consult with the Cui Clan. It would damage the reputation of a thousand-year-old clan if word of your actions got out."
He then turned to Qin Ming and said, "I've heard that this region produced an extraordinary Sword Dao prodigy over two centuries ago. Sadly, lacking a suitable Awakening Techniques in his youth, he wasted half his life. Despite mastering Grandmaster-level sword techniques, that senior ultimately failed to transcend mortality."
"Observing your aura in the Sword Dao, I sense within you the Heaven-Severing Sword Intent of that very senior."
Qin Ming bowed respectfully, thanking him for speaking on his behalf, and then revealed, "He was my master."
An instant silence fell over the scene.
Meng Xinghai thought, "This young man's words are as wild as a Savage Dragon—utterly unreliable!"
From what he knew, the Sword Dao Grandmaster had indeed retreated into seclusion after his vital energy waned, vanishing from public life.
But Meng Xinghai assumed the man couldn't have lived much longer.
Li Qingyue also wore a peculiar expression as she gazed at her former friend. "How could he have changed so drastically in just two years?"
"Chonghe, don't speak recklessly," Cui Hong cautioned.
"Though my master lost an arm in his youth, after creating the Heaven-Severing Sword Intent, he personally executed all his rivals, purging all worldly attachments from his heart."
"In his later years, while wandering the mountains, he stumbled upon a rare spiritual substance that extended his lifespan, allowing him to embark on the path of rebirth anew."
"He has indeed lived to this day, though he is now nearing the end of his life once more,"
Qin Ming stated calmly, recounting the true events he had witnessed in the sword manual.
He even reproduced many of the one-armed elder's words and described his appearance.
Old Mountain Pig was the first to react, stunned. "Could it really be him?!"
Meng Xinghai was also lost in thought, recalling tales of ancient sages.
When faced with no path forward or despair in their twilight years, some would venture deep into mountains and marshes seeking fortune.
Could this Sword Dao Grandmaster have stumbled upon such a miraculous encounter?
Cui Hong was equally taken aback.
If true, a Sword Dao Grandmaster over two centuries old would be no ordinary figure!
Qin Ming couldn't care less whether they believed him.
Given his dire situation, he'd seize any opportunity to bluff, with nothing to lose.
"Shall we call it a day?" Old Mountain Pig suggested, leaping from Qin Ming's hand to the ground and urging him to move on.
Cui Hong watched silently, intending to retrieve the Young Master after they cleared this stretch of the desert.
But in the next instant, his composure shattered.
He caught a familiar, pungent stench.
Meng Xinghai and Li Qingyue instantly frowned, held their breath, and retreated.
From the depths of the darkness, Qin Ming witnessed the palm-sized pig, now on the ground, unleash a massive stream of urine, transforming a patch of yellow sand into a large puddle.
"Rumble!"
The entire desert erupted once more, black mist churning violently.
"Let's go! What are you waiting for? I'll escort you out," Old Mountain Pig called back, gesturing with its snout for Qin Ming to follow.
______________________________
END OF CHAPTER
Subscribe to MTL WORLD (@mtlworld1) YouTube Channel
*********************************