Chapter 9

It didn’t matter if she couldn’t make a chisel. By picking up a long, narrow stone and grinding its tip sharp, it could serve just as well as a chisel—it just wore out quickly.

For several days in a row, Yunxiu and Xia Qing showed no adverse reactions. Instead, after eating their fill of white rice and hot dishes with salt and oil, color returned to their previously pale faces.

Xia Qing was fixated on her work. The moment her confinement was lifted, she dashed out with the axe. With that iron axe, she fell in love with the act of felling trees; the smooth feel of it quickly made her forget the hardship of using a stone axe.

The area around the adobe house had a rich variety of tree species that grew well. The dead grass and trees around the house had already been cleared by Li Cunxin, forming a large open area. Xia Qing had to walk a few steps to find timber, but even so, finding the wood she wanted was extremely easy.

Xia Qing roughly processed the felled trees on the spot, chopping off the branches and removing the tops before pushing the trunks back home.

Xia Qing called out, panting, “Someone come help.”

After a long while, only Yan Baiyu came over.

“Where are those two?”

“Yunxiu followed Cunxin to look at the fields.”

Behind the adobe house, Li Cunxin had opened up a plot of land for a vegetable garden. The fields for growing grain, however, were some distance from the house.

What often goes hand in hand with farming is water management. Li Cunxin only had herself; digging a long irrigation canal alone wasn’t realistic.

The wasteland she chose to reclaim had two main criteria: first, good soil quality; second, proximity to a water source for easy irrigation. That place wasn’t far, just over a li from the adobe house.

After passing through a grove of trees, Yunxiu and Li Cunxin were no longer blocked by tall trees. Ahead was an open expanse, dotted sparsely with a few shrub thickets, mostly a mix of tall and short weeds.

Li Cunxin pointed southeast. “It’s right over there.”

The two pushed through the withered grass. Yunxiu gazed toward where Li Cunxin pointed. Amidst a sea of withered, desolate yellow, a thread of green at the horizon’s end was especially eye-catching. “What you have planted in your field now is wheat?”

“Yes. The higher field, about one mu, is for wheat and cotton in rotation. The lower paddy field, a little over one mu, is for a single crop of late-season rice each year, to stagger the timing with harvesting the wheat and planting the cotton. After all, I’m alone and don’t have many tools; I can’t manage it all at once.”

Yunxiu had no concept of this. She asked doubtfully, “How big is one mu roughly?”

“Hmm.” Li Cunxin thought for a moment. “Over six hundred square meters, a little more than two basketball courts of standard size.”

As they talked, their attention wavered. By the time they felt something was off about the scene in the field and noticed a foreign object there—something that looked from afar like a black dot blending with the field bund, and up close like a massive boulder—they were only a little over ten paces from the field bund.

“Why is there a rock in the field?” As soon as Yunxiu said this, she felt a force pulling from behind, yanking her violently backward.

Tugged by Li Cunxin, Yunxiu stumbled and fell into a nearby earthen pit. The pit was just past knee-deep, with a clump of dead crabgrass at the edge. The snow had melted, and the surface soil in the pit was soft and muddy.

Li Cunxin pulled Yunxiu’s arm, making her crouch down. Seeing Li Cunxin’s grave expression, Yunxiu couldn’t help but grow tense. She lowered her voice and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Yunxiu followed the direction of Li Cunxin’s dark, bright eyes. On the other side of the field, the “rock” had begun to move.

In an instant, all the blood drained from Yunxiu’s face. Her face pale as a sheet, her stare fixed straight ahead, her lips trembling, she tried to retreat, tripped over her own feet, and fell sitting in the pit.

That was no rock in the field; it was a black bear. Its massive body sat on the ground, right there, digging at the soil.

A timely snow promises a bountiful harvest. Several heavy snowfalls had covered the wheat field, insulating the wheat seedlings during the deep cold. Now the weather had warmed slightly, the snow had melted, and the meltwater irrigated the fields. The wheat seedlings were growing very well, their leaves showing no signs of withering yellow.

Li Cunxin’s hand clenched a handful of withered grass. “My sprouts!”

Li Cunxin quickly turned back and said to Yunxiu, “Yunxiu, hurry back and call Yan Baiyu. Tell her there’s a bear in the field, and to bring weapons and the wolves.”

Yunxiu, with the shadow of the forest still looming over her, had her brain freeze. It processed very slowly. After a while, she said, “What about you?”

“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on it.”

“No, no way. I can’t leave you here alone.” Yunxiu’s voice took on a crying edge, as if facing a life-and-death separation.

Li Cunxin patted her hand. “It’s fine. It hasn’t noticed me yet. Even if it does, it’s fine—I can run.”

“Then come back with me.”

“Do you still remember the way back?”

Yunxiu nodded. Li Cunxin said, “You go quickly and call for help. I need to watch its movements. If it leaves, I need to know where it goes.”

Yunxiu grabbed her wrist and shook her head. Li Cunxin patted her back. “Go, quickly.” Finally, she turned from patting to pushing, even threatening her: “Don’t dawdle, or all four of us will be in danger.”

Yunxiu couldn’t wrap her head around how all four of them could be in danger. But seeing Li Cunxin’s resolute attitude, she finally obeyed. She climbed out of the pit, pushed her limited athletic ability to its limit, and ran back the way they had come.

Li Cunxin watched Yunxiu’s figure disappear into the woods before turning back to look at the field. The bear seemed to be searching for something, pulling out seedlings by the root to examine them. Later, it appeared to put something in its mouth to chew—Li Cunxin couldn’t see clearly. After a while, the bear’s body straightened; it had likely stood up.

The bear stood still for a long time without moving, as if gazing into the distance. In the empty field, it stood alone, a tall, isolated figure. Perhaps due to that sense of loneliness, its silhouette seemed almost human.

Li Cunxin heard rustling footsteps behind her. She turned her head. Three shadows squeezed into the pit and surrounded her.

Yan Baiyu had arrived. Xia Qing followed behind, chasing them to the point of death. Yunxiu, at the very back, was only a shadow in the distance.

Yan Baiyu held a recurve bow.

This bow was one Xia Qing had spent half a day selecting, made from a single piece of willow wood. The wood grain was fine and even, without a single knot or blemish on its entire body.

Xia Qing had used dry grass and fur to repeatedly polish it, and then used a hammer to pound a piece of pine wood to extract that bit of oil, which she rubbed onto the bow’s body. The bowstring was twisted from nettle bark.

The finished bow could be said to be exceptionally beautiful.

“This bear has to be dealt with. At the very least, we have to drive it off so it won’t dare come back. Otherwise, if it remembers this place and comes back some time when you’re farming, no one can say what might happen.” Yan Baiyu spoke in a deep voice.

“That’s what I think too.”

Xia Qing also jumped into the pit, her teeth chattering. “My god, there really is a bear.”

Xia Qing was clutching the arrow shafts to her chest.

The shafts had been whittled bit by bit from oak wood. Because they had no plane or saw, progress had been extremely slow. In all these days, Xia Qing had only managed four shafts. The arrowheads were chipped flint, sharp-edged and fairly penetrating. The fletching at the tail came from feathers provided by some unknown bird.

Li Cunxin and Yunxiu had both tried shooting. The arrows flew off in directions far off from where they aimed.

Xia Qing had first thought it was her own skill issue causing the arrows to be unbalanced.

Until Yan Baiyu tried, adjusted her feel a few times, and hit the bullseye dead center.

At the time, Li Cunxin had secretly thought to herself that Yan Baiyu’s hobbies were probably not limited to climbing snowy mountains but also included archery.

Now, Yan Baiyu took a feathered arrow from Xia Qing’s arms. With a flick of her fingers, the arrowhead spun to the front. She smoothly nocked it against the bow, slid her hand to the arrow’s nock, pressed against the bowstring, and drew it back.

Yan Baiyu straightened her back, stood sideways, and drew the bow to its limit. Her posture was extremely beautiful.

The arrowhead aimed at the black bear.

With a thrum, the bowstring snapped back, and the arrow flew out.

Flying out with the arrow were the three gray wolves. Their four paws practically flew, their speed as if skimming the ground.

They were only about forty meters from the black bear. At this range, the arrow still possessed considerable penetrating power.

With a pained roar, the black bear was struck in the back.

Alpha arrived first. With a leap, it jumped up and bit the bear’s arm.

Yan Baiyu drew the bow and nocked a second arrow, already aiming at the bear’s head.

The black bear tried to shake off the gray wolf biting its arm but found it futile. As it tried to pry it off with its other paw, it heard the roaring from behind and turned around.

Just as Yan Baiyu was about to release the second arrow, Li Cunxin forcefully pushed her hand down. The arrow stabbed into the soil.

“It’s a person!”

The gray wolf’s threatening growls carried across the wheat field. The bright, beautiful sunlight shone down overhead.

That was no black bear; it was clearly a person draped in animal hides.

The person saw the fellow humans standing before the field bund. Amidst the hunger and cold, the fury sparked by the tearing pain cooled momentarily. For that one instant, he was stunned, with the same bewilderment and searching gaze of a newborn first encountering the world.

But the other two gray wolves bit his legs and tore at him. The pain enraged him, and he roared and shouted at the beasts to get away.

Yan Baiyu snapped out of it and shouted a halt: “Beta, Gamma, back off!” She ran toward the field.

Li Cunxin also rushed over, calling out, “Alpha, let go!”

Xia Qing, still dazed, followed along to the field.

Beta and Gamma obediently retreated. Alpha loosened its grip a bit and was immediately thrown off. It rolled over once, got up, and bared its teeth at the man.

The man clutched his arm. Alpha’s bite had been the deepest, having penetrated fur and clothing to wound the man’s arm.

Yan Baiyu and Li Cunxin shooed away the gray wolves and stopped three paces from the man.

No wonder everyone had mistaken this person for a bear; his build was truly imposing.

This man was a head taller than the two of them, with broad shoulders and a tall frame that filled out the animal hides, giving him an oppressive presence. From the back, he looked just like a wild beast.

The man stared intently at the group, draped in hides, with a full beard and unruly hair that made him look like a wild man.

Only the T-shirt beneath the hides told them he was also a modern person who had crossed into this alien world.

The man said, “You…”

Li Cunxin said apologetically, “We mistook you just now and thought you were a black bear. We attacked you; we’re very sorry.”

“It’s fine.” The man’s voice was deep and muffled. He looked at the wound on his arm, frowned, bent down, and scooped up a handful of dirt, as if to pack it onto the wound to stop the bleeding. As he bent over, the arrow sticking out of his back angled toward the pale sky—both comical and pitiful.

“No, it’ll get infected.” Li Cunxin stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “I have medicine.”

The man looked at her, paused, and said nothing.

Yan Baiyu’s expression was neutral as she stared at the expression revealed on the man’s face beneath the hair, lost in thought for a moment.

Li Cunxin went around to the man’s back to look. The arrow was firmly lodged in his back. Fortunately, the fur had blocked it somewhat; it wasn’t deeply embedded and wouldn’t injure his internal organs. “This arrow needs to come out. Otherwise, the blood will pool here, and the wound will be hard to heal.”