Ling Shuying strolled leisurely, carrying two coconut shells as she walked into the forest.
The sun had dipped slightly west of its zenith—it was probably around three in the afternoon.
The island would likely get cold at night, so she had to find a place to stay.
She wondered if she should weave a tent out of banana leaves, but they wouldn’t offer any protection against wild beasts.
Or maybe make do in a tree?
Ling Shuying looked at the towering forest before her.
With her current agility, climbing up shouldn’t be difficult.
However, she was slightly afraid of heights.
“I’ll keep looking,” she thought.
“If worse comes to worst, I’ll climb a tree!”
Ling Shuying searched the woods, utilizing the computational abilities bestowed upon her by Qing Ling to calculate the safety probability of every location.
Three percent, twenty-two percent, sixty-seven percent…
A stream of information composed of data surfaced before her eyes, gradually constructing a path.
It was a winding trail carved through the forest, looking as though it was naturally formed, yet subtly appearing to have been artificially maintained.
Ling Shuying followed the route, stepping on the thick layer of fallen leaves.
CRUNCH, CRUNCH.
Her feet sank deeply into the soft decay with every step.
“These fallen leaves are so thick…” she thought.
As she walked, bursts of birdsong echoed in her ears.
It was a melody she had never heard before—crisp and bright, unlike the dull, monotonous chirping of the sparrows in the City State.
It carried the vibrant essence of Life.
Following the data, neatly arranged holly bushes gradually appeared on both sides, growing wildly upward.
At the end of the two rows of holly sat a wooden house.
It was dilapidated and uninhabited.
Looking past the house, she could see a stretch of sandy beach in the distance with the faint flow of seawater.
Safety rate: eighty-six percent.
Ling Shuying’s eyes lit up.
Not only did she have a place to spend the night, but perhaps she could even live here from now on.
The door lock had long since corroded.
CREAK.
Ling Shuying gently pushed the door open.
A few broken chairs lay on the floor alongside a torn, moldy armchair.
To the side was a fireplace covered in a thick layer of dust, its iron grate rusted beyond recognition.
There were two other rooms nearby.
Ling Shuying pushed on one of the doors, but it wouldn’t budge.
Applying a little more force, she bumped her shoulder against it.
BAM!
The door was knocked completely off its hinges.
Ling Shuying scratched her head awkwardly and muttered softly, “Qing Ling, these abilities of yours are too much.
I’m not used to it yet.”
Naturally, no voice replied to her; Qing Ling was merely an algae plant.
COUGH, COUGH, COUGH.
She fanned away the dust as sunlight pierced her eyes.
It was a bedroom containing a moldy bed.
Whether it had never been installed or had simply been destroyed, the window lacked glass, allowing gusts of sea breeze to sweep right in.
The bed was unusable and the window was broken, but after some tidying up, she could make do.
Furthermore…
Ling Shuying looked out the window.
In the distance, banana leaves swayed, and crystal-clear seawater flowed.
“The view from this house is really nice,” Ling Shuying thought.
“It’s countless times better than the laboratory.”
Stepping back out, Ling Shuying tried to open the other door.
This time, she made sure to control her strength.
Twisting the handle, she gave it a gentle push.
CLICK.
The door opened.
Ling Shuying was a little surprised.
Who knew how old this house was, yet the door still worked.
That meant the interior had probably been well-preserved.
Pushing the door open and stepping inside, the scent of old books assailed her nostrils.
It was a smell Ling Shuying was very familiar with—identical to the scent of the antique books in the historical archives of the Alliance Library.
Back in the City State, during her breaks from experiments, Ling Shuying loved going to that neglected old library section to read.
It was quiet and free from interruptions.
The room was somewhat dim and appeared to have no windows.
Ling Shuying stepped sideways to let the light from outside filter in.
Relying on the enhanced vision bestowed by Qing Ling, she could roughly make out that this was a small study, about ten square meters in size, similar to the bedroom.
The walls were lined with bookshelves packed with books in various languages.
Against the wall sat a sturdy wooden desk and a simple chair.
A few open books and two notebooks rested on the desk.
It seemed the owner of the house had left in a hurry.
When had they left, and why?
Ling Shuying couldn’t figure it out.
The “Great Subsidence” had caused global cataclysms, mutating biological organisms and forcing continents to sink and drift.
This island might not have originally been in this location, and the house’s owner might have abandoned it during that disaster.
Who was the owner?
A writer?
A forest ranger?
It no longer mattered.
What mattered was that, far away from the Order of civilization, Ling Shuying had found a little sanctuary that she loved.
This room gave her an extraordinary sense of security.
She liked it.
Ling Shuying chuckled sillily and backed out of the room.
Having inspected the interior, it was time to check the outside.
Ling Shuying walked clockwise around the house.
Reaching the back, she discovered a semi-enclosed little shed facing the ocean.
She stepped closer for a look, her smile widening.
It was a kitchen with two stoves, a rusty spatula, and seasonings so corroded they were unidentifiable.
Beside the stoves sat a solid wood box.
Ling Shuying pried it open to reveal half a box of coarse salt and half a box of white sugar, both preserved perfectly.
Even more important was the kitchen’s location.
Enclosed by walls on three sides, its open front directly faced the ocean and the beach without any obstruction.
Only the drooping leaves of a banana tree occasionally swept across her field of vision with the wind.
Next to the kitchen, the fruits of several lemon trees emitted wafts of clear, intoxicating fragrance.
“It’s too beautiful,” she thought.
“The owner of this house really knew how to live.”
Now she had food and a place to stay.
It merely required a thorough cleaning and some tidying up of the surroundings to become a perfect sanctuary.
Ling Shuying picked up a broom from the kitchen.
Who knew how many years it had been here, but it retained its shape and functioned perfectly well.
She did a simple sweep of the dust in the rooms and tried to clear the chimney.
However, she couldn’t get it fully unblocked; it was likely clogged from the outside.
Though still dilapidated, the place was much cleaner and brighter than when she had first arrived.
While the sky was still light, Ling Shuying went back to the beach and knocked down a few more coconuts.
She hadn’t found a clean water source yet, but coconuts would serve as a temporary substitute—and there was plenty to go around.
On her way back, she foraged some wild greens by the side of the road and picked a few mushrooms.
Her comprehensive analysis showed a safety rate of ninety-seven percent; they were edible.
The sun gradually set in the west.
Ling Shuying sat on the sandy beach, her new home just a short distance behind her.
She gathered a few rocks and shells, arranged a pile of wood on top of them, and used the matches preserved in the kitchen to start a fire on the beach.
She pulled out the coconut shells she had brought with her and peeled off the young coconut meat.
SLURP, SLURP.
She ate it like jelly—rich, soft, and glutinous.
Then, she gently snapped off the top portion of a coconut shell.
Bit by bit, carefully breaking off half of it, she fashioned a coconut-shell bowl.
She skewered the mushrooms and sprinkled them with salt.
Into her bowl, she placed the wild greens, added a dash of white sugar, and squeezed in a little lemon juice.
She cracked open another coconut and took two gentle sips.
Sitting quietly by the sea, she listened to the CRACKLE of the burning wood and the SPLASH of the crashing waves.
The fresh scent of lemon and the aroma of roasted mushrooms wafted to her nose.
In the distance, the red sun was dipping below the horizon, while the sky behind her was already tinged with the darkness of night, where a myriad of stars hung in wait.
Salt and sugar were both precious commodities; on this uninhabited island, they would likely be very difficult to produce.
But regardless, today—her first day ashore, her first day embracing a new life, her first day of freedom—was absolutely worth it.