The day the sun set and never rose again...
***
The night never ends. The world was pitch-black, like an unfathomable abyss swallowing everything.
Day had long become a thing of the past, a legend. The frozen soil was vast, and the wind was biting cold. The blizzard came crashing down, piling up on the ground to nearly half a person's height.
Shuangshu Village was half buried in heavy snow. There were only forty or fifty households in this village that was seemingly forgotten by time, where, in the night, only blurry outlines of clusters of houses could be seen.
In the howling wind, numerous roofs were slightly shaking, as if about to be ripped off.
Qin Ming was very weak. Awakened by hunger, his stomach rumbled incessantly, and in the cold night, the thought of any type of food made him salivate uncontrollably. Not to mention steaming meat dishes or delicious fruits, even thinking of a piece of cold, hard bread brought a sweet taste to his mouth, stimulating his saliva.
The bitter cold and darkness both inside and outside the house created a suffocating feeling.
Qin Ming wrapped himself tighter in the worn-out quilt. Even the warmth from the heated brick bed couldn't keep out the harsh cold from outside. The frigid air he breathed in felt like shards of ice scraping through his lungs, leaving a slight sting.
He restrained himself from thinking about food, or else acid would start to rise in his stomach and mouth. After calming his emotions, he realized that his mind was clear, no longer groggy like before. Is the "strange illness" gone?
Despite the hunger and biting cold, the prospect of recovery from a prolonged illness brought a sparkle to his eyes as he awaited the "Shallow Night."
As time passed, the wind gradually died down, and the heavy snow slowly turned into sparse snowflakes.
There was a disturbance in the neighboring yard. Voices carried over. It was a young couple, Lu Ze and Liang Wanqing, talking.
"Where are you going? Are you bringing Qin Ming food again?" Liang Wanqing's voice gradually rose.
"He's been seriously ill, and he's only sixteen or seventeen. It's quite pitiful for him to be living alone," Lu Ze said softly.
"Do you know there's not much food left at home? If this continues, our two children will go hungry!" Liang Wanqing said, her emotions are running high.
"The blizzard has stopped; there will be a way to deal with it," Lu Ze said, looking into the pitch-black land.
...
Qin Ming felt guilty when he heard the argument. He no longer wanted to accept Lu Ze's kindness; in times like these, every household was struggling.
He got up from the heated brick bed. He still felt cold even after putting on a cotton jacket. He then pulled out an old fur coat from the cabinet, wrapped it around himself, and kept moving and rubbing his hands in the pitch-dark room.
After his severe illness, his tall body had become somewhat thin. His hair hung past his shoulders, having lost some of its luster, and his handsome face was slightly pale, but his clear eyes were bright and spirited. Despite his sickly appearance, he had a resilient demeanor.
A month ago, he had struggled to escape from the mountains. His hands and feet had started to turn black, and he had been ill ever since. His fellow travelers had died the day they returned.
Qin Ming was afflicted with the "strange disease," and many believed he wouldn't survive. Yet, he had held on until now, and his health was improving. He still harbored a lingering fear upon thinking of the unknown dangers in the mountains.
The darkness outside began to shift, like ink dripping into a small amount of clear water, gradually lightening. "Shallow Night" had arrived—meaning "daytime" had come. But this was only slightly better than "Deep Night"; the overall view between heaven and earth was still enveloped in night, with distant objects hard to discern clearly.
The courtyard gate was pushed open—Lu Ze had arrived. Strong and sturdy, he used a shovel to shove the piled-up snow to either side, quickly clearing a path leading to the house.
Qin Ming opened the door that had been sealed by heavy snow and called out, "Brother Lu."
Lu Ze carried a glowing cloth bag, pouring its contents into a stone basin on the snowy ground. A bunch of shining stones fell, striking crisp sounds as their light cut through the night.
These were "sunstones", their name itself a reliance of the people in this era on some beautiful wish, now illuminating the courtyard.
Lu Ze was surprised. "Qin, it seems your spirit has improved."
Qin Ming invited him into the house and truthfully informed him that he no longer felt groggy and might be getting better.
Lu Ze mentioned that he was tough; it was truly not easy to survive the "strange illness" he contracted from the mountains. He poured the remaining glowing stones from the cloth bag into the copper basin in the room, instantly brightening the whole room.
The sunstone, sourced from Fire Spring, radiated a rainbow of flames, but its temperature was far lower than that of the human body. After a couple of hours, it would automatically extinguish and need to be returned to Fire Spring to be rewarmed.
"Here you go!" Lu Ze handed over a food box.
Qin Ming had been seriously ill for a month, and his stockpile of food had run out several days ago. He relied entirely on Lu Ze's help, and he felt guilty upon hearing a recent argument between him and his wife, realizing their situation was not good either.
"Eat it while it's hot." Lu Ze was a straightforward man who knew how to return favors. When he was lost in a pitch-black, dense forest, it was Qin Ming who called out his name over and over again, guiding him back.
Looking at the steaming hot black wheat buns, the intense hunger made Qin Ming unable to stop himself from salivating.
"Why are you just standing there? You're not fully recovered yet. Going hungry won't help you get better. Are you still treating me like an outsider?" Lu Ze placed the food container directly into his hands.
"Brother Lu!" Ultimately, Qin Ming set aside his pretenses, tore off a piece of the bun, which felt coarse, yet as he devoured it, it tasted incredibly sweet.
"Call me if you need anything." Lu Ze turned and left.
As his hunger subsided, Qin Ming felt even more spirited, and the various discomforts in his body started to fade away. He was confident that his chronic illness was abating.
He thought of going outside for a walk to get some fresh air. He pushed open the door to the courtyard and stepped onto the street. The weather was extremely cold, and white mist formed with each breath.
"Shallow Night," which was the equivalent of "daytime" in this era, was when the fire-glow of sunstones flowed in every household, casting a faint brightness over the streets as well.
"Are you feeling better, Qin?" Someone spotted him.
"Qin, let me look at you." Granny Zhou from North Street grabbed him, looking him over from left to right, noticing his complexion was much better than when she last saw him.
Qin Ming greeted them with a smile, telling them his health was indeed recovering. There weren't many people at the intersection, but all of them displayed incredulous expressions. A recovery from a "strange illness"?
"Qin, even if you feel better, don't rush to go out. It's dangerous outside right now," Granny Zhou warned him, glancing towards the village outskirts, which looked as dark as spilled ink.
The other neighbors also showed worried looks. The year's harvest was poor, and now the lack of food was a severe issue, which could lead to deaths from starvation.
Qin Ming noticed that Granny Zhou, previously kind and gentle, now had a paler complexion and looked thin and frail, as if she might collapse with a gust of wind. After the other people left, Granny Zhou carefully took some sweet potatoes from her pocket and stuffed them into Qin Ming's hand.
Qin Ming quickly pushed them back. Considering her old age and apparent signs of hunger, how could he accept the food meant for her sustenance?
Each family had cleared their nearby roads, but not thoroughly; there was still snow, which crunched underfoot. Qin Ming, exhaling white breath, walked forward.
He stopped near the entrance of the village.
In front of a large courtyard was a small threshing ground, where a black mountain goat, as tall as an adult's shoulder, was pulling a stone millstone, milling the silvery grains of mutated wheat.
Not everyone lacked food, as this household at the head of the village was doing well.
Qin Ming stared intently at the black mountain goat; his eyes were bright. With basic food being a problem now, he hadn't eaten meat in a long time, and he was yearning for it.
The black mountain goat was quite large, with thick, sturdy horns, giving it a somewhat fierce appearance. Sensing Qin Ming's gaze, it seemed startled—its raised tail immediately drooped down.
"Qin, have you recovered? Blessings follow surviving a great disaster," said a stocky middle-aged man with sideburns standing at the courtyard door. He thought Qin Ming was looking at the mutated grains—silver wheat—below the millstone, before speaking, "We have lots of mouths to feed, so the consumption is too fast. This is my last reserve of food."
"You're impressive, Uncle Yang, managing to take care of a large family in these hard times," Qin Ming chuckled, clearly not believing that only a bag of silver wheat was left.
After greeting Yang Yongqing, he headed towards the head of the village.
Fire Spring was ahead, casting bright light nearby. It was surrounded by a stone enclosure, forming a square pond only knee-high; the inside glowed with fiery red light.
During this blizzard season, although the fire spring inside was nearly dried up and no longer gushing, flames still flickered and swirled around it. Inside the pond were two trees, which gave Shuangshu Village its name—one tree had black leaves, the other white, both thriving in the harsh winter.