Fu Miaoxue was coaxed awake by the smell of food. She’d been hungry to begin with, and the scent made it completely unbearable. The moment she opened her eyes she was looking around for something to eat.

Then she spotted Du Lai sitting by the stove, grilling fish.

“That smells incredible!” She crawled over and discovered that alongside the fish there were shrimp and clams as well. She was even more delighted. “Such a spread today?”

Du Lai handed her a finished piece of grilled fish, in good spirits himself, smiling as he said, “I went to collect the fish traps this morning — good haul. Whatever we can’t eat can be smoked and set aside. Tonight we’ll catch a couple more birds, and we won’t need to worry about food for the next few days.”

Fu Miaoxue bit into the fish, eyes squinting in contentment. “Delicious!”

The skin was crisp and charred, the flesh tender. Food cooked over open flame had its own distinctive character — savory and smoky with just a faint hint of bitterness. It was the best thing Fu Miaoxue had eaten since the disaster began.

While eating, she asked Du Lai, “What are we doing today?”

“Keep practicing your stone throws. I’ll go cut more bamboo and get the shelter finished as soon as possible.” Du Lai said.

He quickly finished his grilled fish, propped the remaining fish at angles around the fire to slow-smoke, then secured the leg wraps around his trousers and headed out.

Fu Miaoxue called after him, “Come back early!”

Du Lai turned to wave, thought better of it, and lowered his arm. It would feel strange — too much like an old married couple.

That was not a good sign. He and Fu Miaoxue were not from the same world. Even if circumstance had thrown them into the same situation now, once they returned to their respective lives, they would never cross paths again. So certain thoughts — he couldn’t afford to have them. He shouldn’t have them.

But what if… they never made it back?

The thought surfaced in his mind, and Du Lai’s footsteps faltered.

He suddenly remembered some absurd question he’d seen online once: *If the world ended and the only woman left on Earth was fat and ugly, would you fall in love with her?*

Du Lai: “……”

Why was he even thinking about this? Had living on a deserted island for this long scrambled his brain?

Du Lai frowned, shook his head, and kept walking toward the bamboo grove.

The shelter’s walls needed to be woven from thin bamboo strips, like weaving a basket — simpler than the roof, and Du Lai could manage it quickly on his own. The last step, though, was more troublesome: to achieve proper insulation against both cold and heat, the wall surface had to be plastered over with mud.

Starting from the base, he’d apply a layer of wet mud, wait for it to dry, then build up another layer — one coat at a time, until the entire wall was solid.

Because each layer had to dry completely before the next could be applied, patience was required. It would take at least three to five days to finish.

Still, the walls were already taking shape. The little grass hut was beginning to look like something real. Du Lai stepped back to take it in and felt a swell of satisfaction — he thought that if it was well-maintained, this structure could realistically last two or three years.

While waiting for the mud to dry, he returned to the stream for a bath. The water was cold, running over slippery stones, and bathing here meant risking a fall as well as watching for snakes, rats, insects, and all manner of crawling things — it was far from easy.

He looked at the surrounding bamboo and thought: if he could split the bamboo open and connect the sections end to end, running them all the way back to near the shelter using the natural gradient of the terrain — wouldn’t that essentially be a natural water pipe? It would make fetching water far more convenient, and it would also solve the problem of Fu Miaoxue’s bathing.

The work involved was considerable, but the one thing they had plenty of on this island was time.

No sooner did the idea strike him than he set about it. He measured the height and angle needed at each joint between bamboo sections and began tying them together. Absentmindedly, he glanced up and saw a bird fly across the sky — and the thought suddenly occurred to him: What if we’re rescued tomorrow? Would any of this mean anything?

Without realizing it, he had begun planning for a long-term life on this island together with Fu Miaoxue.

How many days had it been since they were stranded?

He had already lost count…

—