The golden fields lay deep in the black mountains. Rows of crops, perfectly ordered — stems, leaves, grain heads all blazing bright as gold ornaments against the dark. No one knew who tended them.
A lost patroller had stumbled on them once. He did not dare approach. He reported it at once. The high-ups came personally — but the fields were gone.
Old Liu, white-haired and seventy-plus, sighed. "The Endless Night is boundless. Too many unknown things in the deep mountains and great swamps. Even a city lord would struggle to go far."
"Old Liu, have you seen strange things yourself?" Qin Ming asked.
Old Liu nodded. "Not just in the wild — right near home."
As a boy, he had flown a kite at the village gate. When he reeled it in, the string was sticky. Blood covered the kite. His grandfather saw it and told him to bury the story forever. That was decades ago.
Xu Yueping steered them back. "Brother Feng, tell us about the mountains."
"Have you heard of beasts mourning graves?" Feng Yi'an spoke carefully — awe and fear tangled on his face.
"Beast graves?" Xu Yueping was stunned. "Beasts practice burial?"
Feng Yi'an nodded. "The fog-covered wilderness makes anything possible."
---
Years ago, the patrol's old squad leader noticed something abnormal in the mountains. He crept close to identify which creature was evolving — different mutations demanded different countermeasures.
What he found was not a transformation. It was weeping.
A white-furred old beast knelt before a ruined earthen grave, bowing like a human, sobbing. The grave was ancient — a thousand-year-old cypress grew from its mound. Light rained down. The black forest lit up. Raptors descended. Monsters crawled from the swamps. All came to worship.
Feng Yi'an stopped. "The old leader moved closer. The white beast kowtowed, wept, and then began to mutate. Mourning the grave was a ritual. It elevated the creature's life tier."
The old leader slipped away. On the road back, he started coughing blood. His skin itched. He made it home, delivered his report — then his flesh rotted away. He died.
"The high-ups sent a force. A battle was fought. If the news had come later, the white beast would have matured. Catastrophe."
The room went silent. Outside the village, things seemed peaceful. In the unseen places, men died guarding the mountains.
---
Old Liu's voice was thick. "Men like him — more than one or two. A dear friend spent his life blocking dangerous creatures in the mountains. He grew old and never came back."
Feng Yi'an nodded. "Most patrol members carry serious wounds. Some don't die clean — no bones left."
He told them about the old leader's teacher. Extraordinary skill, revered, retired after losing an arm. When word came of a mountain troll, he feared the younger generation couldn't handle it. He stopped others from going. Dragged his broken body in alone.
He shattered the troll. He also died. All that remained was blood and half a blade.
"His last wish — buried outside the mountains, beside his wife and child. His soul stayed in the black mountains instead." His wife and child had been killed by a troll years before. He never remarried.
The patrol brought back his bloodstained broken blade. They buried it beside his family's graves.
Qin Ming heard all this and the harsh spirits in his cup lost their bite. He sat in silence.
Feng Yi'an's mood was low. "In the end, patrol members end up crippled, dead, or mad. Some go feral — eating raw flesh, becoming monsters. The mountains may be our last resting place."
The table was heavy. A sweep might come. No one knew what came next.
---
Feng Yi'an drained his cup and set it down. "Brother Xu, I need you to plant the seeds."
He produced a wooden box from his robe. Inside: four black seeds, each the size of a bean.
Xu Yueping paused. "Plant them in winter?"
"Put them in the fire spring now. They'll flourish by early spring." Feng Yi'an's face was grave. "The patrol will be on the front line when the sweep comes. Black Moon is their lifeline."
Black Moon rooted in fire springs. Its leaves were like orchids. When the buds opened, each petal curved like a black crescent moon, shedding dark light and white mist.
Feng Yi'an stood and bowed. "Thank you, Brother Xu. If I survive the sweep, we drink again."
They walked him to the village gate and watched him vanish into the night.
"Hard times. Only four seeds. The drain is bearable." By contract, each village supplied four to eight Black Moon plants. Four was the minimum.
The crowd dispersed. Old Liu lingered, staring at the seeds. "They actually bred them."
As Qin Ming left, he noticed Xu Yueping's face clouded with worry.
---
More people filled the streets the next day. Bows, hunting forks — food was running low. The first group returned with two Blade-Antler Deer. The outer forest was calm. More followed. Children cheered, breath pluming white. The village felt alive again.
Qin Ming stepped out of Lu Ze's yard after eating and spotted Xu Yueping returning from the gate, brow furrowed.
"The patrol came. Urging me to plant the Black Moon."
Then the last hunting party stumbled back — bloodied, game abandoned.
"Mutated snow ape! Old Chen's arm nearly torn off!"
"We drove it back with arrows. Barely escaped."
---
The next day, fog lifted. The wounded hadn't frightened everyone off — not with a New Lifer along this time.
But the group returned early. Bloodied. The New Lifer was worst — left shoulder shattered, one leg bent wrong, chest caved in, mouth full of blood foam. It was unclear if he would live.
"What happened?"
"Blood Bear."
The Blood Bear was a powerful mutant. Blood-red fur, savage, fierce. Even a New Lifer might not survive an encounter.
"Brother Lu?" Qin Ming ran to the next yard.
"He went into the mountains," Liang Wanqing said, face draining of color.
"I'll find him." Qin Ming turned.
Xu Yueping rallied every New Lifer. They moved out. Qin Ming ran at the front, snow spraying in waves. Xu Yueping, closest behind, was stunned by the gap.
Near the forest edge, a group staggered out. Qin Ming saw Lu Ze — carried on someone's back. Face like gold paper, eyes closed. Chest and abdomen hit worst. At least three ribs broken. Two of the wounded had already stopped breathing.
"The Blood Bear?" Qin Ming asked.
"Yes. If the patrol hadn't shown up, more would have died."
Qin Ming stared into the dark forest and drew his short knife. Xu Yueping caught his arm. "Don't. Back."
Liang Wanqing saw Lu Ze and went white. The children wailed.
"He's just unconscious." Qin Ming checked carefully. The broken ribs hadn't pierced the organs. He set them and dressed the wounds.
The street was full of weeping. Xu Yueping ordered: no one enters the mountains.
---
Qin Ming found Xu Yueping with Old Liu and Yang Yongqing inside.
"You want to kill the Blood Bear?" Xu Yueping asked.
Qin Ming spoke low. "Brother Lu has claw marks — but the broken ribs look like they were done by fists."
"You see it too. Then it's human." Xu Yueping stood, anger breaking through. "Some people have gone too far."
Qin Ming had suspected. Since the four seeds arrived, Xu Yueping had been weighed down.
"Why?"
"The patrol demanded I plant Black Moon immediately. I refused. This is their answer."
Old Liu said, "The seeds are mutated. They'll drain the fire spring's vitality. The fire fields will suffer. Famine next year."
Qin Ming's anger climbed. Feng Yi'an had told moving stories of sacrifice and duty. And then done this.
Yang Yongqing said, "Everything Feng told us was true — but it has nothing to do with the current squad's core members!"
Old Liu lowered his voice. "This squad killed a Blood Bear. I suspect someone is wearing that bearskin, pretending to be the beast."
Qin Ming's chest burned. The patrol was supposed to guard. Protect. Be worthy of respect. Instead: murder in disguise, hands slick with villagers' blood.
"Is Brother Xu in?" Feng Yi'an's voice came from the yard. Four patrollers behind him.
"Our fault. We failed to protect the people." Feng Yi'an expressed regret. They would hunt the Blood Bear at once.
Xu Yueping's fingers inside his sleeves were white from squeezing. He could not erupt. He had to receive them properly.
They had killed, then come to apologize. It was pressing a man's face into the dirt and smiling down at him.
Qin Ming sat still. He held back the urge to draw his blade.