The flames burned steadily in the stone stove, their orange-red glow dispelling the deepening twilight by the river and casting flickering light and shadow across my face.
The fish turned evenly over the fire, its dripping fat producing a soft “sizzle” as the aroma grew more intense.
My movements were almost mechanical and practiced, but my thoughts, along with the darkening sky, drifted far away.
In the sky, the last few wisps of sunset glow were being devoured by a deep indigo, while a few impatient stars had already begun to twinkle in the distant heavens.
This descent of night was unlike any sunset I remembered.
The sky here seemed clearer, the stars brighter, imbued with a primal grandeur untainted by industrial civilization.
Yet, this beautiful sight stirred the deepest emotions in my heart.
I thought of my father.
In my memory, he was always a figure wearing soil-stained work pants, crouching for half the day in the experimental plot of our own small yard.
He would point out different varieties of wheat seedlings, patiently explaining tillering, heading, and anthesis to me.
When his rough palms stroked the green shoots, his eyes held an incredibly gentle gaze.
During our last video call, he was still rambling about waiting for me to come home during the break to taste the new variety of sweet melon he’d developed.
I thought of my mother.
She was always worried I wouldn’t eat well at school, sending all sorts of local specialties from home, her voice on the phone constantly reminding me to take care of myself and go to bed early.
She might never understand why I was so fascinated by a pile of data and a few seedlings, but she always supported my choices unconditionally…
And those roommates in the dorm who always joked around, were they just getting out of their evening class right now, noisily debating whether to go to the cafeteria or order takeout?
Would they notice I hadn’t gone to class, and that I couldn’t be reached by phone?
Would they worry?
would they start searching for a “missing” agricultural student?
A sharp and icy sense of loneliness, like the tide silently rising under the night sky, instantly enveloped and submerged me.
This feeling was more concrete and heavier than the confusion I felt when I first woke up.
I had lost everything familiar: family, friends, my studies, that world filled with technology and convenience, and even…
my original identity as “me.”
The flames danced before my eyes, crackling softly as dry branches snapped and burned.
The warm firelight reflected on my body, yet it seemed unable to dispel the chill deep in my heart.
I sat there by the fire, unconsciously turning a wooden skewer in my hand, my unfocused gaze fixed on the depths of the leaping flames, as if I could see phantoms of my past life within them.
The calm side of “Shu” seemed to be trying to soothe this sudden and intense emotional turbulence, but the longing for the past and the pain of letting it go, the part that belonged to “me,” was so real and strong.
The two emotions intertwined and collided in my chest, making my breath slightly falter.
Time passed in silence and daze.
Until…
A distinct, burnt aroma shot into my nostrils, forcibly wrenching me back from my chaotic thoughts.
“Oh no!” I exclaimed softly, instantly snapping back to reality and clumsily moving the fish away from the fire.
Taking a closer look, the side of the fish nearest to the heart of the fire was already covered in an uneven layer of charred black, with the edges even showing signs of carbonization. This chapter is updated first at NovelPing.
Although most of the fish meat was still a perfect golden brown, these obvious scorch marks undoubtedly announced a minor mistake.
“Sigh…” I sighed, shaking my head in frustration, temporarily suppressing the surging nostalgia.
Now was not the time to dwell on the past; filling my stomach and surviving were the top priorities.
I used the Small Stone Knife to carefully scrape away the most severely charred parts, revealing the still snow-white and tender fish meat beneath.
Steaming hot, the mixture of burnt aroma, fresh fish, and the clean scent of plants was still enticing.
Blowing on the steam, I took a tentative small bite.
The outer skin was slightly charred and crisp (ignoring the burnt parts), while the inner fish meat was exceptionally tender and juicy, carrying the unique sweetness of Silverskin Fish.
The wrapped Cattail Leaf gave it a distinct herbal fragrance.
Although there was no salt or other seasoning, this original, unadulterated freshness, enhanced by hunger, actually seemed exceptionally delicious.
“Mmh…
This tastes pretty good.” I chewed, my ice-blue eyes curving slightly, though a faint moisture still lingered at their corners.
The loneliness remained, but the warmth and satisfaction spreading from my stomach, like this campfire, at least lit up and warmed this moment.
Bite by bite, I ate this first hot meal in this new world, taking it in with serious care and appreciation.
The firelight illuminated my calm profile and cast its glow on the notebook and stone knife lying quietly beside me, as well as the Jade-Needle Rice across the opposite bank, its outline blurred in the gathering twilight.
The night was only just beginning, and the road I had to travel was still long.
At least for now, I had fire, food, and a temporarily safe valley.
As for the distant future and the past…
I would survive first, then think it through slowly.