"When dark falls, do not leave the house." This saying had circulated in Hidden Remnant Village for many years; exactly when it had been handed down could no longer be traced, but it was a truth beyond doubt. Watching the setting sun hide itself little by little behind the mountains, Granny Zhu's heart grew frantic again. As the sun sank and the last ray of light vanished, heaven and earth abruptly became utterly still and silent, without a single sound; darkness was seen slowly flooding in from the west, swallowing mountains, rivers, roads, and trees along the way, then reaching Hidden Remnant Village and drowning it. At the four corners of Hidden Remnant Village stood four ancient stone statues, mottled and weatherworn; even Granny Zhu did not know who had carved them or when they had been erected there. When darkness came, the four statues emitted a faint glimmer in the dark, still glowing, which made Granny Zhu and the village elders breathe a sigh of relief. Outside the village the darkness grew thicker still, but with the statues' light, Hidden Remnant Village could still be considered safe. Suddenly Granny Zhu's ears twitched; she froze for a moment, then cried out in alarm, "Listen! Outside there's the sound of a child crying!" Old Ma beside her shook his head. "Impossible, you misheard... Eh, there really is a baby's cry!" From the darkness outside the village came the crying of an infant; all the other elders in the village except the deaf heard it too. The elders exchanged baffled looks—Hidden Remnant Village was remote and desolate; how could a baby have appeared nearby? "I'll go look!" Granny Zhu grew excited and, tiptoeing on her small bound feet, ran to one of the village's stone statues. Old Ma hurried after her. "Old hag, are you crazy? It's dark; leave the village and you're dead!" "Carry this statue out of the village—the things in the dark are afraid of it; I won't die for a while yet!" Granny Zhu bent down, trying to lift the statue onto her back, but she was a hunchback and could not get it up. Old Ma shook his head. "Let me do it. I'll carry the statue and go with you!" Another elder came hobbling over and said, "Master Huo, with only one arm you won't be able to hold out long under that statue. I have both hands—better let me carry it." Old Ma shot him a glare. "Damned Lame Weng, with your one leg missing, can you even walk? I may have only one arm, but this arm has tremendous strength!" With his single arm he lifted the statue and steadied his stance; the statue was unimaginably heavy. "Old hag, let's go!" "Don't call me old hag! Lame Weng, Silent Craftsman, all of you be on your guard—the village is one statue short now; don't let anything from the darkness creep in!" ... Old Ma and Granny Zhu walked out of Hidden Remnant Village. In the darkness, strange things of unknown shape circled the pair, but when caught by the statue's glow, they squealed and withdrew into the dark. The two followed the crying, and after a hundred or so paces came to a great river; the baby's cry came from the riverbank. The statue's faint light did not shine far; they listened carefully to fix the direction of the sound, then walked upstream. After a few dozen steps the crying was close at hand, and Old Ma's single arm could hardly bear the weight. Granny Zhu's eyes brightened as she spotted a faint fluorescence: a basket rested on the bank; the glow came from within the basket, and the crying came from within it too. "There really is a child!" Granny Zhu went forward and lifted the basket, but paused in surprise—she could not raise it. Beneath the basket was an arm bleached white by the river water; it was this arm that had held the basket, and the child inside it, aloft and carried them all the way to the bank. "Don't worry; the child is safe now," Granny Zhu said softly to the woman under the water. The corpse seemed to hear her; the hand opened, was swept away by the river, and vanished into the dark. Granny Zhu lifted the basket. In it lay a swaddled infant, and atop the swaddling lay a jade pendant that gave off a faint light. This pendant's light was very similar to the statues' light, but far weaker; it was this pendant that had kept the child in the basket from being harmed by the things in the darkness. Yet its light was too dim—it could protect only the child, not the woman. "It's a boy." Back in Hidden Remnant Village, the villagers crowded around; they were all old, weak, sick, or crippled. Granny Zhu opened the swaddling and looked, then grinned, her broken teeth sparse. "Our Hidden Remnant Village finally has a whole person!" One-legged Lame Weng said in surprise, "Old hag, you mean to raise him? We can hardly support ourselves! I think we should send him away..." Granny Zhu flew into a rage. "I found this child by my own ability—why should I send him away?" The villagers shuffled and murmured, not daring to contradict her. The village headman came over on a stretcher; he was more pitiable than the rest. The others at least had some limbs, just fewer than ordinary people, but he had neither hands nor feet. Still, everyone respected him deeply; even the ferocious Granny Zhu did not dare act rashly. "Since we're going to raise him, we should give him a name, shouldn't we?" The headman said, "Old woman, look—is there anything else in the basket?" Granny Zhu rummaged through it and shook her head. "Only this jade pendant, no note or anything. There's a character on the pendant—'Qin'. This jade is flawless, and it contains a strange power; it is not an ordinary thing. It must be from a great household." "Is he called Qin, or is Qin his surname?" The headman pondered, then said, "Let his surname be Qin, and his given name Mu—Qin Mu. When he grows up, we'll have him herd cattle; at least he can make a living." "Qin Mu." Granny Zhu looked at the infant in the swaddling, and the infant, unafraid of her, actually gurgled and laughed. ... By the river, the sound of a flute drifted over; a cowherd sat on the back of a cow playing a flute, the notes clear and melodious. The cowherd was eleven or twelve years old, with handsome delicate features, red lips and white teeth, his clothes half open, and a jade pendant hanging on his chest. This boy was exactly the infant Granny Zhu had picked up by the river eleven years before. Over those years, the village elders had raised him with painstaking care. Granny Zhu had somehow acquired a cow and fed the baby Qin Mu cow's milk every day, getting him through the period when young children often died. Though the villagers of Hidden Remnant Village all looked fierce and menacing, they were very good to him. Granny Zhu was a seamstress; on ordinary days Qin Mu learned tailoring from her, learned to gather herbs and refine pills from the Pill Master, learned leg techniques from Grandpa Lame Weng, learned to locate sounds by ear from Grandpa Blind, and learned breathing techniques from the limbless village headman. So the days passed quickly. This cow had been his wet nurse in childhood; Granny Zhu had originally planned to sell it, but Qin Mu was unwilling, so the task of herding cattle was also assigned to him. He often grazed the cow by the river—green mountains like ink, blue waves and white clouds, quite pleasant. "Qin Mu, Qin Mu, save me!" Suddenly the cow beneath him spoke. Qin Mu was startled and hastily jumped down from its back. The cow had tears in its eyes and spoke in human language: "Qin Mu, you grew up drinking my milk; I am like a half-mother to you. You must save me!" Qin Mu blinked and asked cautiously, "How can I save you?" The cow said, "There's a sickle at your waist. Peel off my hide, and you'll free me from my predicament." Qin Mu hesitated. The cow said, "Have you forgotten the kindness that nursed you?" Qin Mu raised the sickle and carefully cut into the cowhide. Strange as it was, when the hide was cut open, not a drop of blood flowed, and the inside of the hide was empty—no flesh, n