He’d lived over twenty years, and it seemed he had spent the whole of it sprinting down the road of feeding others.

The first few years were a desperate struggle to feed himself. Then he found his master, and barely had a few days of full meals before he was put to work — earning money to fill his master’s insatiable appetite. Later, after the master was gone, a brood of disciples was left behind with no one to look after them, chirping and helpless like a nest of baby birds barely hatched…

And then there was now — Fu Miaoxue, looking pitiful in front of him, calling out that she was hungry.

Du Lai understood hunger too well.

His thoughts drifted.

He was thinking: if the rescue team didn’t show up soon, there would be no way to wire this month’s living expenses to Little Bean and the others.

Those children — because of the environment they’d grown up in — had developed more than a few rough habits. Which was why, every time he sent living expenses, he never sent too much. A bunch of kids with too much money on hand was a recipe for trouble.

But if he’d known this would happen to him, he should have been more generous with the money back then — at least the kids would still have some savings to draw on now.

Too late to regret it.

Life seemed, in its very nature, to be one long, unbroken string of regrets.

……

The afternoon slipped by quickly.

Du Lai twisted fibers from the banana stalks into fine cord, then wove the cord into a fish trap about the length of his forearm — narrow at the mouth, wide in the belly, so that once a fish swam in, it would find it very difficult to swim back out. But precisely because the mouth was narrow, large fish couldn’t be caught.

The shallow waters along the shore were unlikely to shelter large fish anyway, so Du Lai had no particular complaints about that.

He set the finished fish trap aside and began planning the shelter.

It was still hot outside, but the sun had shifted to the west. At least the worst of the glare was gone.

Du Lai stepped outside and walked a full circle around the boulder, studying how to work with the natural landscape to build something sturdy enough to last.

It had to be sturdy — but also spacious.

The current angle of the rock only covered about three-quarters of their bodies. Which meant that if it rained, and both he and Fu Miaoxue were lying completely flat inside, the rain would soak their feet.

If there was wind, things would be even worse — the rock only had cover above, while both sides were completely open.

The only genuine advantage of living here was that the rock came with a natural stone platform — the raised ledge where they’d spread their leaves. It sat just a short rise above the ground, which perfectly resolved the issue of moisture.

When building a shelter in the wild, beyond blocking wind and rain, moisture protection was the most critical concern. Experienced explorers with proper gear would bring waterproof mats, while those short on supplies had to either build their shelter on higher ground or use wood to create a layer of separation from the earth.

Du Lai had his eye on the trees growing on either side of the rock — they’d make excellent vertical posts. With the boulder itself as an anchor point and horizontal beams laid across, the basic frame of a shelter would take shape.

Then he thought of the bamboo grove he’d found earlier.

Bamboo was better than timber — bamboo grew straight, while tree branches were mostly gnarled, crooked, and full of joints.

Given that he had no axe among his tools, chopping down full trees would be far too taxing. Du Lai decided to build a bamboo shelter.

He changed into his original long trousers, then stripped some palm bark and wrapped it around his calves for protection, binding more strips around his forearms as well.

Ugly as it looked — with no other way to guard against snake bites, there wasn’t much choice.

The commotion must have been significant enough, because Fu Miaoxue stirred and woke from her groggy sleep. Not knowing where Du Lai was headed, she rubbed her eyes and simply followed along.

“Do you even know where I’m going?” Du Lai asked, amused.

Fu Miaoxue said: “To find food.”

Du Lai was baffled. “I’m going to cut bamboo — there’s no food!”

“Maybe we’ll find something along the way.” Fu Miaoxue said listlessly, rubbing her stomach. “I’m hungry again. That banana core was just like cucumber — it doesn’t fill you up.”

Du Lai: “…”

He didn’t bother trying to talk her out of it. He picked up a branch from the ground and walked on. “Suit yourself. Just don’t start complaining about being tired — I don’t have the energy to carry you back.”

—