Chapter 3 Part 2

Although Yan Baiyu wanted to suggest they sleep together, a certain hesitation and scruple in her heart held her back. Before she could voice it, Li Cunxin gave her no chance to speak.

Outside, the cold wind howled. The two slept in separate rooms, the crisp smell of soil and hay in their noses, both experiencing an unprecedented feeling—a sense of groundedness, a sense of novelty.

Li Cunxin had an internal clock. The next morning at the first glimmer of dawn, she woke naturally. Coming out of the bamboo room, she saw the hazy silhouette on the earthen bed, paused, and only then remembered it was Yan Baiyu.

She stepped more softly, quietly moving closer. Seeing that Yan Baiyu was still asleep, she crept toward the door like a thief and gently lifted the thatched curtain. Still, it was hard to avoid making some rustling sounds.

Yan Baiyu suddenly sat up straight in bed. Li Cunxin was startled; Yan Baiyu was also startled. The two stared at each other wide-eyed.

Li Cunxin saw Yan Baiyu’s vigilant expression and thought of how, on her journey, surrounded by beasts, she probably hadn’t dared to sleep deeply, which was why she had jolted awake at that slight sound.

A tender feeling welled up in Li Cunxin. She said softly, “I’m going to make breakfast. It’s still early. If you’re still sleepy, sleep a bit more.”

With that, Li Cunxin carried the curtain away and closed it behind her.

Li Cunxin used the leftover rice to make congee. She recalled the stir-fried dish from yesterday—both of them had eaten it all, not a bit left—and felt quite a sense of accomplishment. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and once the congee was ready, she ladled it into a clay pot and stir-fried another bowl of radish.

The water in the vat was nearly at the bottom. Li Cunxin set aside a bowl of congee for herself, hastily ate a few mouthfuls, and left the rest in the pot, keeping it warm with the residual heat of the stove.

She picked up a clay basin and spoke to Yan Baiyu, who had lain back down and was half-asleep, half-awake: “Yan Baiyu, the water vat is empty. I’m going to the pond to fetch some water. The pond is just a few dozen meters south in a straight line. There’s congee warming in the pot. Remember to eat when you wake up.”

Yan Baiyu responded. Li Cunxin headed toward the pond. Passing the thatched shed, the black donkey, leaning against the shed and chewing the wooden rail, brayed at her as if quarreling, occasionally kicking back with its hooves because the other side of the shed had been taken over by the two gray wolves.

“Mei Wenqin, don’t be angry. I’ll build a little black room tomorrow and lock them up.”

After soothing the donkey, Li Cunxin walked southward. Not far from the house was the pond. The water’s surface was greenish, and the water plants along the bank were withered yellow and flattened.

Li Cunxin filled the clay basin with water. The water spilling from the bottom of the basin fell onto the pond’s surface, sending out circles of ripples.

A thought stirred in Li Cunxin’s heart. Yan Baiyu was injured. She couldn’t recover on just vegetables. She had to find a way to give her something extra.

Those two breeding rabbits couldn’t be eaten, and the kits hadn’t grown up yet; they had barely any meat on them.

She looked at the pond. In this weather, maybe she could still fish for some crucian carp. She’d just try her luck.

Her mind jumped around; she was indeed the type to act as soon as she thought.

She set the clay basin on the ground and went all the way to a muddy ditch in the distance to dig up earth. The reeds nearby were nodding and bowing in the wind. Ground down by this slow-paced, distraction-free environment, she could become engrossed in tasks to the point of near-oblivion.

In winter, earthworms burrow into deeper soil layers to hibernate. She could dig out a big pit with persistent effort, not stopping until she found earthworms. The soil here was fertile, and the earthworms grew exceptionally well.

Li Cunxin used the axe to cut a long, thin bamboo pole for a fishing rod, used dry vines as fishing line, and broke off a thorn from a thorn bush—a natural fishhook.

She burned some dry grass, mixed the ash with earthworms, baited the hook, then cast the line into the pond. All that remained was to lean against a tree and wait, occasionally pulling the line up to check if the bait was still there.

She deliberately made the vine longer and tied a weight to it so the bait could sink deeper.

Her fishing skill couldn’t be called outstanding, but she had patience in spades. Hugging the bamboo pole, she spaced out. Twice she felt a bite and pulled up nothing, the bait gone, but she continued fishing, still able to wait.

Time passed; the sun climbed high.

Li Cunxin felt a tug on the other end of the bamboo pole. She focused her mind, planted her feet, gathered her breath, and yanked backward fiercely with both hands. The vine rope flew back, and a shadow burst out of the water.

Li Cunxin shouted joyfully. A large crucian carp flopped on the ground, looking to be about a jin in weight. The creatures in this world lived too comfortably. Unlike in the original world, where all sorts of edible creatures had been trained by cunning humans to be cautious and clever, these ones were dumb and dull, which was how Li Cunxin had caught it.

Li Cunxin hooked her fingers into the carp’s gills and lifted it. No matter how much the fish struggled, it couldn’t break free from her grip.

Only then did Li Cunxin notice the sky. Looking at the sun overhead, she realized it was already noon. Having lived alone in this world for years, she easily got immersed in her own world and had completely forgotten there was a guest back at the house.

She hastily threw down the bamboo pole, grabbed the fish, carried the basin, and returned home happily.

She went back to the kitchen, poured the water into the vat, and called out toward the adobe house, “Yan Baiyu.”

No response. Holding the fish, she pushed aside the curtain. “Yan Baiyu?”

The earthen bed was neatly made, but no one was there. She checked the bamboo room—no one.

Li Cunxin returned to the kitchen. The congee she’d left in the pot had been eaten by Yan Baiyu. The bowl was washed clean and put away on the bamboo shelf.

She circled the house, still seeing no one. She worried Yan Baiyu had run into danger, but she had those two gray wolves with her.

She searched the storehouse, checked the thatched shed. Only the black donkey was there; the two gray wolves were also nowhere to be seen.

“Yan Baiyu!” she called with all her might.

No one answered.

A hollow feeling filled her heart.

She had to admit it: Yan Baiyu had left on her own.

She had wanted to tell Yan Baiyu today to stay. The two of them together could look out for each other.

In this foreign land, they would be each other’s family.

She hadn’t had the chance to say it.

Even if she had to leave, she could have come to tell her first, right?

A lump formed in her throat. She hurled the crucian carp hard onto the ground and went back to the doorway to sit.

A mass of stale, decaying air seemed to fester in her heart, eating away at her organs, a pain like decay and bleeding. She felt so terrible it had crossed the threshold of what she could bear, to the point she couldn’t even cry.

The donkey groaned a plaintive sound, but she didn’t want to go to it to seek comfort.

She sat numbly at the doorway, not even feeling hunger.

She looked at the sky, high and withered, without a single cloud, crisp and dry. The sun slanted harshly west, golden light spreading across the western sky. Two flying birds, a pair, chased and entwined with each other as they flew into the sunset glow.

The evening wind made her eyes sting. Her gaze dropped, and she saw the crucian carp struggling on the ground, on the verge of suffocation. The luster of its scales was smothered by the dirt.

She stared at the carp’s bulging eyes, its fluttering lips, its desperate struggle.

She saw her own sorrow.

Her heart ached more and more. She pressed her chest.

She could finally cry.

But even so, it was only a soft, subdued sobbing, her body shuddering with each breath. After crying herself out, she hugged her legs and pressed her forehead to her knees.

The black donkey grew restless and agitated, affected by her sounds.

Suddenly, the donkey brayed, its cries unceasing.

Li Cunxin had no energy to deal with it and remained seated without moving.

Amidst the donkey’s braying, Li Cunxin heard the lowing of an ox.

That ox low came so strangely. Li Cunxin thought it was a trick of her ears. She lifted her head and froze there.

It was indeed an ox, a large water buffalo. Yan Baiyu was leading it, and behind her followed three gray wolves.

Li Cunxin forgot to react. Her mind couldn’t process the cause and effect.

She could only confirm that the scene before her was not a hallucination born of her excessive grief.

Li Cunxin wiped her eyes and stood up. Yan Baiyu came closer and tied the rope securing the water buffalo to a tree in front of the haystack.

“Where did you go?” Li Cunxin couldn’t help but ask, her voice carrying a choked sob about to burst into tears.

“I went back to my previous camp. I came to the pond looking for you, but didn’t see anyone. I was afraid that if I delayed too long, it would be dark on the way back. So I left a message on the ground for you and set off. Did you not see it?”

Li Cunxin looked at the ground. There was indeed writing there, now mostly smeared away by the flopping carp. Earlier, she had been too despondent to notice. Now all her sorrow turned into goosebump-raising embarrassment. She mumbled guiltily, “I was thinking of trying to catch a fish to add to today’s meal. I might have missed you while digging for earthworms. I didn’t notice the message you left…”

“What happened to your eyes?”

“My hair poked me. It’s nothing. So, um, where did that ox come from?”

Yan Baiyu smiled apologetically. “Today I found out that Beta and Gamma secretly made off with the breeding rabbits from your enclosure.”

“Ah, really?!” Li Cunxin was startled, then waved her hand. “It’s fine, we can raise more.”

Yan Baiyu explained, “Hunting in winter is hit or miss. They hadn’t had a good catch for days and were hungry. Yesterday, when I went to the river to fetch water, I thought I’d take advantage of the warmer midday to wash up. I had just taken off my shoes when Beta, in his hunger, dug up a hibernating snake and got bitten. That water buffalo is one I encountered when I got lost and strayed into a swamp after entering the forest. I kept it as a food reserve and also used it as a mount along the way. After all this time, I wouldn’t resort to using it unless absolutely necessary. Yesterday, Alpha(First) stayed at the camp to guard it. I was prepared to eat it if we still couldn’t find food. I never expected to run into you. Beta(Second) and Gamma(Third) stole your breeding rabbits and took them back to Alpha. When I thought of going after them, it was just the right time to bring the ox back. I’ve already disciplined them. This ox, consider it my compensation to you.”

“This…” Li Cunxin was overwhelmed by the unexpected favor. She saw the water buffalo’s large horns and sturdy frame. Her heart itched with longing, her desire stirred, yet she felt embarrassed. “Actually, those few rabbits aren’t worth that much…”

Yan Baiyu smiled slightly. “The rest can be considered as rent. May I stay with you? Or I could build a house nearby. It’s just that I’m not very skilled; I might need your help.”

Li Cunxin’s mind went blank for a moment, then suddenly burst into brilliant fireworks. She raised her voice in surprised delight, “Of course you can!”