They had assumed Qin Ming would risk venturing deep into the mountains to hunt, and misjudged how soon he would return, otherwise, they wouldn't have spoken so openly just now.
"Be careful, and don't make a sound later," Ma Yang warned.
Hu Yong nodded, adding, "When we strike from behind, make it quick, clean, and hard—don't hesitate!"
Wang Youping complained, "I just hope he brings something back alive and shows up soon. I hope he comes back earlier. Let's smack him a couple of times and get it over and done with. I'm freezing out here."
Suddenly, the snow pit they were hiding in collapsed with a loud rumble, instantly burying the three of them. Caught off guard, they were choking on snow.
Hu Yong reacted first, scrambling out of the snow. But before he could steady himself, a boot flew into his face—bam!
Agonizing pain twisted his features. The next moment, a heavy hunting fork slammed into his shoulder, making his bones feel like they'd snapped. He stumbled backward and crashed to the ground.
Ma Yang fared no better. Just as he poked his head out of the snow, Qin Ming's kick landed squarely on his nose. The sharp, stinging pain made him howl in agony, tears and snot streaming as he writhed in the snow.
Wang Youping, hearing the commotion, tried to burrow deeper into the snow, not daring to emerge. But a sharp pain shot through his back. The steel fork had pierced his clothes and drawn blood. "Don't… don't kill me," he stammered, lips trembling. What made it worse was that he'd wet himself in fear, terrified that the next thrust would go through his heart.
Qin Ming hadn't meant to kill him; he had only pierced the skin just enough to make him bleed. He yanked Wang Youping out and then gave him a solid kick, sending him flying three meters away into another snowdrift.
"Qin… Ming…"
"Ming, we're from the same village, and we see each other every day. Go easy on us, please, we were wrong!"
Once they saw who it was, and especially the cold gleam of the steel fork in his hands, all three instantly wilted. They each had knives and clubs on them, but facing such a fierce and furious Qin Ming, they didn't dare move. Already injured, they completely chickened out. They were the kind to bully the weak and fear the strong; when faced with someone truly tough, they never had the guts to fight back.
Qin Ming didn't intend to kill them. But a thorough "lesson" was unavoidable. With his fork pointed at them, he made them squat obediently. Then came the beatdown, which was a good stretch for his limbs.
By the end, all three had bruised faces and blood in their mouths, groaning for ages. Only after a stern warning were they finally let go.
Qin Ming knew their type— all bluster without backbone. They didn't have the guts or strength to be true villains. A good thrashing was enough to teach them a lasting lesson.
Meanwhile, far from the forest where Qin Ming had just fought the mutated beast, a donkey was slowly approaching from the open plains, heading toward the mountains with surprising familiarity.
On its back sat a white weasel, fur as pure as snow without a single blemish. In this era where the sun had long since set and never risen again, white-furred creatures were exceedingly rare.
Unlike most small animals, it was unusually calm—almost composed—sitting upright on the donkey's back. It was even riding backward, facing the direction they had come from.
It didn't resemble a wild creature at all. Its aura was more like that of a poised human. Its eyes were deep, and it rode without hurry, as if quietly pondering.
The mutated creature that Qin Ming had previously driven off suddenly charged when it saw the donkey approaching. But the moment it noticed the snow-white weasel on its back, it abruptly froze, then turned tail and fled into the woods, burying itself deep beneath the snow, shivering.
The donkey didn't flinch. It merely glanced at the beast calmly, then, like an old horse familiar with the path, continued into the mountains, carrying the silent weasel along.
…
The Fire Spring came into view. The twin black-and-white trees swayed gently. Qin Ming quickened his pace and soon reached the village entrance. He finally relaxed.
"Qin Ming's back," someone called while chopping wood. They looked up and spotted him.
Soon, several courtyard gates along the road opened. Word had already spread that Qin Ming had gone out hunting alone. Everyone had been wondering whether he'd return alive and whether he'd bring back anything.
"He went out fully armed as soon as Shallow Night began..."
Shuangshu Village wasn't a big village. Villagers who heard the commotion came outside. Each house had a sunstone, casting warm firelight that faintly illuminated the street. Then they saw it—hanging from Qin Ming's hunting fork was a red squirrel. The crowd went silent.
This was not at all what they had expected.
Lu Ze hurried over. Seeing that Qin Ming was unharmed, he finally exhaled in relief. He was a straightforward man, and he broke the silence. "People said you went into the mountains to hunt a bear, and here you are… with a squirrel?"
"I raided its home too," Qin Ming said with a smile.
People quickly noticed the hide pouch on his back. Understanding what was inside, their eyes lit up. Then they saw the squirrel's fire-red fur glimmering faintly. It was a mutated creature, and valuable.
"You came back safely and brought back a good haul too," Old Liu at the village gate remarked.
Some villagers seized the moment to ask whether it was safe outside. Qin Ming truthfully recounted what he had encountered. He didn't dare give them false hope, as such lies could get people killed. When he mentioned the mutated beast near the forest edge, everyone's faces changed. It was clear that no one could venture out alone for the time being.
Then Qin Ming, without hiding anything, spoke of what Ma Yang, Hu Yong, and Wang Youping had done. The villagers erupted in fury.
"Shameless! Too cowardly to go into the mountains themselves, so they try to rob their neighbor instead? That's not just theft! It's putting his life at risk!"
Just as the trio limped into view at the village gate, supporting one another, Lu Ze and a few others rushed over and gave them another thorough beating.
"Lu, Uncle Yang, Grandpa Liu, stop hitting us! Please, mercy!" they wailed, snot and blood frozen on their faces. Their cries were pitiful, but no one felt sorry for them. Most of the village had long despised them.
Qin Ming, meanwhile, handed out big handfuls of nuts to every child on the street, instantly sending the children into delighted cheers. He soon noticed Granny Zhou, her face pale as she leaned against her gate. He quickly walked over and, without letting her say a word, left some dried goods for her.
…
"Uncle, you're amazing! These wild walnuts are delicious! And the pine nuts smell so good!"
At Qin Ming's home, Wenrui was full of praise, grinning from ear to ear. He had tried every type of nut, his little mouth never stopped.
"Jujube mush… yummy… sweet!" Little Wenhui, barely over two years old, licked his fingers while eating mashed steamed dates with the seeds removed, then smacked a kiss onto Qin Ming's cheek.
Beside them, the red squirrel—hanging from the hunting fork—regained consciousness. It opened its eyes and saw them rummaging through its precious stash. Despair instantly filled its gaze.
"No wonder it's a mutated creature," Liang Wanqing remarked in awe. "So diligent. It had stored over thirty pounds of food!"
The squirrel's eyes bulged wide with rage, as if they might shoot fire.
Just then, Lu Ze spoke seriously, "Qin, looks like you've mostly recovered. It's time you seriously considered your 'rebirth.'"