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In the dead of night, Cen An froze awake.

This was a novel experience. When he first arrived, even with only dry straw for bedding, he hadn’t felt this cold.

The animal-skin mattress and blanket seemed to have lost their insulating properties. Curled up beneath them, Cen An felt his hands and feet grow numbly cold, while the breath escaping his mouth and nose turned white.

The temperature must have dropped below freezing.

With that thought, he climbed out of bed and tossed a log into the hearth. The flames leapt to life, and the bitter chill began to lift.

Cen An never dared underestimate the power of nature, nor did he intend to stubbornly resist this rapidly plunging temperature.

He rummaged around the hut again, pulling out several bundles of feathers and duck down.

Some had been gathered that day, others collected during the small beast tide days prior.

Nine bundles of feathers and down combined formed a fluffy little mountain.

He also took four animal hides, adding them to the hide blanket, and crafted a down-filled hide quilt using a recipe.

The down-stuffed hide quilt looked rather ugly, but its warmth was exceptionally potent.

Cen An burrowed into the cozy bedding. With the dual warmth of the hearth fire and the down quilt enveloping him, he soon drifted off to sleep.

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Elsewhere in the village.

A small child whimpered faintly, “Mommy, I’m cold…”

His mother quickly pulled him close. “Do we have any firewood left? Should we stoke the fire?”

“I’ll go. You stay inside.” Her husband hastily threw on his outer robe, pulled two logs from the small woodpile, and lit a faint campfire. It barely brought a hint of warmth, but it was better than nothing.

“This year is truly strange. The Gloomy Rain Period has just begun, yet the temperature has dropped so sharply. The rains are heavier than in previous years too…”

“You tell me. Life just keeps getting harder…”

Being able to light a fire meant they were relatively well-off. Others woke in the cold, wanting to stoke the flames, only to remember their meager supply of wood. They could only huddle under icy blankets, enduring the night…

Few in Yongning Village would find comfort tonight.

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Morning dawned dim and gray. Cen An awoke early.

Embers glowed faintly in the hearth, while lingering warmth beckoned him to linger beneath the blankets.

Sitting up, he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Ah, the Piranha plant.

After just one night, the circle of mutant beast meat—including that roaring rabbit—had been devoured. The plant itself… well, the flower had shot up to human calf height.

Spotting its owner awake, the Piranha plant gave a little shake of its head.

Cen An nodded, then suddenly sensed something was off and turned his head.

The Piranha plant’s large mouth was tightly shut, yet something seemed to be moving inside… A mouse tail dangled down between its closed, sharp teeth.

Cen An: …

He slowly closed his eyes, trying to banish this eerie scene from his mind.

When he opened them, the mouse tail swayed gently.

Cen An: …

He rose expressionlessly and carried the Piranha plant to the food storage area.

Opening the door, the rain had indeed intensified. Icy mist washed over him, obscuring visibility as puddles pooled into streams on the ground.

Today was the last day he could venture out during this Gloomy Rain Period… Cen An mentally reviewed his tasks for the day.

The chickens, ducks, and rabbits had already been salted and hung over the hearth to slowly smoke.

He already knew what breakfast would be.

He put yesterday’s leftover pork bone broth on the fire and took some wheat flour to make noodles. Though not as chewy as the flour from his past life, the wheat flavor was richer.

When the milky-white bone broth began to bubble, he tossed in the slightly yellow noodles. They were done in minutes.

On this rainy morning, a bowl of steaming pork bone noodle soup warmed him from head to toe.

After eating, Cen An fully geared up and headed straight for the bamboo grove.

Yesterday, he set eight small traps, six of which yielded catches: two quails, one pigeon, and three field mice.

Both medium-sized traps came up empty.

Today’s haul was even smaller than yesterday’s.

It seemed the rain wasn’t just affecting the villagers; even the animals were staying indoors.

Cen An retrieved all the traps without setting any new ones.

He plunged back into the bamboo grove and cut thirty bundles of bamboo. Combined with yesterday’s fifty, his backpack now held eighty bundles.

As noon approached, the temperature rose slightly—better than nothing.

Cen An skipped lunch, descending the mountain and heading straight for the forest where broadleaf trees grew. He cut 30 broad leaves and 20 vines.

Occasionally, rain lizards scurried past, but he had no time to notice, racing against the clock to gather supplies.

With the mountain supplies gathered, he hurried back home.

He dug out all the remaining animal hides—forty or fifty pieces, accumulated since he first started collecting.

He opened his recipe book and crafted all the hides into leather pouches.

Carrying these dozen or so pouches, he went to the riverbank and filled them to the brim with sand.

Call him a worrywart or a pessimist, but Cen An always felt an uneasy sense of uncertainty about this Gloomy Rain Period.

Anyway, hopefully all this preparation will be for nothing.

Stuffing the sandbags into his backpack, he completed all preparations for the Gloomy Rain Period.

Cen An walked along the village path wearing a large conical hat. Not a single villager was in sight.

The rain fell in torrents, as if he were the only person left in the world.

Cen An didn’t like this feeling. He stood quietly for a moment before changing direction.

He approached a dilapidated courtyard and knocked on the door.

The door opened, revealing Yu Fei’s deathly pale face. Cen An spoke with some unfamiliarity, “Long time no see. I came to find…”

Yu Fei vanished behind the door, leaving only a hoarse whisper: “Come in.”

Cen An stepped inside with resignation.

An odd scent filled the room—like medicine, yet far more pungent.

He crossed the outer chamber into the inner room and froze instantly.

Yu Lin lay sprawled on the bed, black mist writhing beneath his skin. Blood seeped drop by drop, soaking the mattress.

His eyes were closed, two trails of blood streaming from the corners, his eyelids swollen… The curse’s power hadn’t even spared his eyes.

Yu Fei held a small white jar, applying a strange-smelling black ointment from it to the wounds.

Yu Lin’s voice was weak, yet his tone remained light. “Is that you, Brother Cen?”

Cen An, still startled, gave a low, muffled response.

Yu Lin’s voice grew slightly brighter. “I knew it. No one else would come looking for me.”

Cen An observed his condition, clearly marked with [Curse (Active)].

He couldn’t help whispering, “How often does this curse flare up?”

“It used to be every other day,” Yu Lin’s tone lifted slightly. “But since I started taking your medicine, Brother Cen, this is the first time it’s happened. And it doesn’t hurt as much as before!”

He possessed an unbelievable optimism and resilience.

Cen An took out a wind-cold fruit and placed it in his hand. “This is for you.”

“Hm?” Yu Lin held the fruit, feeling its surface before bringing it to his nose to sniff. “Is this a wind-cold fruit?”

He smiled. “Brother said you were selling wind-cold fruit at the market a few days ago. Did you save this one especially for me?”

Yu Fei also lifted his head and glanced at Cen An.

Cen An tried to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Yes. I really like the little rabbit you gave me.”

He wasn’t sure if Yu Lin actually needed it. Though Yu Lin radiated negative energy and looked even weaker than himself, he was still an ability user… Could ability users even catch wind chill?

Yu Lin cradled the fruit and smiled. “Thanks, Brother Cen. You wouldn’t believe how much this fruit helped me!”

He actually ate the fruit right in front of Cen An.

The wind-cold fruit took effect instantly. His muscles went numb, and he lay straighter on the bed. The black curse energy receded like a tide, and Yu Lin, who had been tormented for so long, simply drifted off to sleep.

Cen An froze. This…

“Once the muscles are paralyzed, the curse loses its resistance. Unable to achieve its purpose of torment, it simply vanishes.” Yu Fei spoke in an unusually long sentence.

Cen An nodded in sudden understanding. So that was it.

Since Yu Lin was asleep, it wouldn’t be right for him to linger much longer. He prepared to take his leave.

Yu Fei watched him and suddenly said, “I owe you one. If you ever need anything, come find me.”

Cen An nodded helplessly, thinking to himself: How many people had said this to him now? How many more troubles would he have to endure before he could call everyone he owed a favor?

He returned home as dusk approached.

Chickens, ducks, and rabbits still smoked over the hearth, while the game in his backpack lay ready for butchering.

For the first time, Cen An felt that gathering too much meat in the forest might not be ideal… Storage was a problem.

Bearing this sweet burden, Cen An unpacked today’s haul.

The animal-hide sandbags could wait; the broad leaves and vines weren’t needed now. Cen An set aside only the game.

Two quails, one pigeon, three field mice.

Speaking of which, were voles even edible? They looked far too much like rats… Cen An examined them from all angles but still couldn’t bring himself to eat them, so he tossed them to the Piranha plant.

The Piranha plant devoured them one by one, swallowing them as easily as snacks, its entire being radiating contentment.

Cen An cleaned the quails and pigeons together, surveying the scattered meat as he formulated a plan.

The smoked chicken, duck, and rabbit would keep for ages—no immediate worries there.

Over twenty pounds of pork remained, perfect for curing into cured pork.

Only one bamboo partridge was left, thankfully not much meat—easily finished in one meal.

Oh, right, there was also a large fish in the basin…

Cen An rubbed his temples and decided to stew the bamboo partridge tonight! As for the quail and pigeon, they could be eaten tomorrow.

He chopped the bamboo partridge, weighing over a pound, into small pieces and tossed it into the pot along with bamboo shoots and white radish to boil. He soaked the dried mushrooms and tossed them in too—nothing could fail to be delicious.

While the stew simmered, Cen An retrieved ten bamboo pieces and stuffed them into the charcoal stove, burning them down to thirty pieces of bamboo charcoal.

He placed a dozen or so in the grain jar and scattered the rest around the corners. Bamboo charcoal absorbed moisture, proving most useful in this weather.

Once the charcoal was set, the bamboo partridge was cooked, and the rice in the steamer was ready.

Cen An sat down with peace of mind to eat.

His heart felt light. All possible preparations had been made. For the next few days, he only needed to stay home and rest easy.

The bamboo chicken was indeed tender and succulent. A gentle poke with his chopsticks sent the meat sliding off the bone, mingling with the broth as it fell into his bowl.

Cen An polished off the rice alongside a large bowl of chicken, not even sparing a drop of the remaining broth—perfect for cooking noodles tomorrow morning.

Outside, the rain fell in heavy sheets, steam rising thickly. Yet inside the small hut, it was dry and warm, the aroma of the food lingering long after the meal…