The Land of Eternal Night

Rows of farmland stretched neatly into the distance, where crops—from the roots and stems to the leaves and grains—shone with a brilliant golden hue, as if crafted from pure gold. Amidst the pitch-black mountains, this spectacle stood out with an air of mystery.

Everyone present was captivated by Feng Yi'an's words. A vision of such magnificence hidden deep within the fog-covered mountains?

"Who could be tending such fields?" Xu Yueping asked.

Feng Yi'an shook his head. "A patrolman stumbled upon it by accident while lost in the mountains but didn't dare approach."

They had immediately reported the finding to the higher-ups. Although powerful figures ventured into the mountains, they were unable to locate the mysterious farmland again.

Seventy-year-old Elder Liu sighed. "The eternal night stretches endlessly. Deep mountains and vast swamps hide too many unknowns. Those wilderness zones are so treacherous that even the City Lord himself would struggle to delve too deeply."

"Grandpa Liu, have you encountered something strange yourself?" Qin Ming asked.

Elder Liu nodded, his gaze distant as he fell into memory. "Not just out in the wilderness. Strange things have happened near our village as well."

Back when Elder Liu was a boy, he had been flying a kite with his friends near the village entrance. As they reeled it in, they discovered the string was sticky—there was blood on the kite.

"Right by the village gate?" Yang Yongqing exclaimed, visibly unsettled as he glanced out the window at the dark night sky.

Qin Ming hesitated before suggesting, "Could it have been a wounded bird that flew into the kite?"

"Perhaps," Elder Liu replied. "But when my grandfather saw the bloodstained kite, his expression changed instantly. He told me to never speak of it again. That was decades ago."

Such an incident, happening so close to home, left an unsettling feeling in the room.

"Let's hear more about the mountains," Xu Yueping urged Feng Yi'an, redirecting the conversation.

"Have you ever heard of beasts mourning graves?" Feng Yi'an asked, his tone wary and full of reverence.

"What kind of graves are you talking about?" someone asked. They were seasoned mountain people yet had never come across anything like this.

"Beast graves," Feng Yi'an clarified.

"Wild beasts burying their dead?" Xu Yueping blurted, astonished.

Feng Yi'an nodded solemnly. "The fog-shrouded wilderness is a land of mysteries. Anything is possible there."

He recounted an incident involving their old patrol captain. The man had sensed something unusual deep in the mountains and feared that a dangerous creature was undergoing a transformative evolution. Wishing to gather intelligence, he quietly approached.

"The old captain hoped to identify what kind of 'rare beast' or 'mutated creature' was growing stronger so that we could prepare countermeasures."

After all, each mutated creature possessed unique abilities. Without specific preparations, they were difficult to handle.

What the old captain encountered, however, was chilling—weeping.

At the center of the disturbance was an ancient, dilapidated grave, likely over a thousand years old. A towering, ancient cypress tree stood atop it, a testament to its great age.

The source of the cries was a white-furred beast, its form indistinct in the night fog. Kneeling before the grave, it bowed its head and wept, the sound eerie and unsettling.

Feng Yi'an continued, "The grave appeared to be part of some strange ritual. Light-like rain fell upon it, illuminating the dark forest. Birds of prey descended from the night sky, and creatures emerged from the swamps—all of them bowing and paying tribute."

The room fell silent.

"What happened next?" someone finally asked, their voice hushed.

"The old captain tried to get a closer look at the white-furred beast, hoping to identify it. He planned to search the archives for records of such creatures to prepare appropriate defenses."

The weeping creature then began to mutate. It was as if the mourning ritual had elevated its existence to a higher level. Alarmed, the old captain retreated, only to fall deathly ill upon returning—coughing up blood and plagued by unbearable itching. Despite surviving long enough to report what he had seen, his flesh soon began to rot away, and he died.

"High-level forces were mobilized to sweep the mountains," Feng Yi'an said gravely. "It was a hard-fought battle. If the captain hadn't reported back in time, the white-furred beast would have grown into a catastrophic threat."

The room grew heavy with unease. Life outside the mountains seemed peaceful enough, but deep within, an invisible battle raged. Countless men fought in silence, sacrificing themselves to protect the lands outside.

Elder Liu sighed deeply, the lines on his face more pronounced. "I had a close friend who dedicated his life to guarding the mountains. He grew old on the front lines, and one day, he simply disappeared. I've always suspected he perished out there."

Feng Yi'an nodded. "Most patrolmen have endured severe injuries. Many of us won't meet a peaceful end. Some die in the mountains, their bodies never found."

He recounted the tale of his old captain's mentor—a man of unmatched skill who had retired after losing an arm. Upon hearing that a dangerous mountain beast had appeared, he ignored his frailty and returned to fight alone, fearing for the lives of the younger patrolmen.

"He dealt the beast a mortal wound but paid the price with his life," Feng Yi'an said. "They only found a bloodstained blade—the rest of his body was gone."

As the room fell quiet, Feng Yi'an reached into his coat and pulled out a small wooden box. Opening it revealed four black seeds, each the size of a bean.

"Xu Yueping, I'll need you to plant these immediately," Feng Yi'an said, his tone somber.

Xu Yueping froze. "Plant them now? In winter?"

"These seeds need to be nourished by fire springs. If we bury them now, they'll sprout and flourish by early spring," Feng Yi'an explained. "The patrolmen will take the brunt of the coming battle, and many of us will not survive. These seeds could be the difference between life and death."

He described the plants known as Black Moon, which grew in fire springs. When they bloomed, their black petals resembled crescent moons, radiating dark light and white mist. These plants were life-saving medicine.

After finishing his drink, Feng Yi'an rose to leave. "Thank you for the hospitality, Xu Yueping. If I survive the mountain sweep, we'll drink again."

"Your skills will see you through, Feng Yi'an," Xu Yueping replied sincerely.

The villagers escorted him to the village entrance, watching as he vanished into the dark night.

The next morning, the village stirred to life. Armed with bows and hunting spears, many set out into the mountains, desperate to gather food. The stores of grain were running low, and hunting was their only option.

By mid-morning, cheers echoed through the village as a hunting party returned with two Knife-Horned Deer.

"The outer forest has calmed down. As long as we don't go too deep, it's safe enough for hunting."

But tragedy soon struck. Another group returned bloodied and battered, their prey abandoned.

"We ran into a mutated Snow Ape. Old Chen nearly lost an arm!"

The survivors spoke of the terrifying encounter with trembling voices, their faces pale.

That night, Qin Ming sat in Xu Yueping's courtyard. The village chief's face was grim.

"Chief, are you saying this was deliberate?" Qin Ming asked.

Xu Yueping's expression hardened. "The patrolmen insisted I plant the Black Moon seeds immediately. I refused. This… this was their response."

Elder Liu's face darkened. "The seeds must have mutated. They'll drain the fire springs' vitality and ruin the fields. If we plant them, we could face famine next year."

Before they could say more, Feng Yi'an and several patrolmen appeared at the door.

"We failed to protect the villagers this time," Feng Yi'an said, his voice heavy with guilt. "We'll head back into the mountains and deal with the Blood Bear."

Xu Yueping's hands curled into fists, his knuckles white. He couldn't act out against Feng Yi'an—not yet.

Sitting quietly to one side, Qin Ming's expression was calm, but his heart burned with anger. The patrolmen, who were meant to protect the people, were instead manipulating and harming them.

You wolves in sheep's clothing… Qin Ming thought, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his knife. Sooner or later, you'll pay for this.