Swish, swish. 

Beyond the palm grove lay a wilderness where wild grasses grew wildly, reaching half a person’s height, making the path extremely difficult to follow.

Nan Liujing trudged through the thicket with great difficulty; if he let his guard down for even a moment, he risked straying from the path. From time to time, rustling sounds came from the undergrowth, as if small animals or insects were moving beneath the grass, sending shivers down Nan Liujing’s spine as he feared he might get bitten at any moment.

He had no choice but to use his wooden spear as a walking stick, first jabbing wildly into the grass ahead to scare away any potential small animals, then using the spear to part the wild grass. Only he dared to take a step.

It took him a full half hour to cover a distance of just a few hundred meters; a layer of sweat had broken out on his back, and the breeze felt chillingly cold against his skin. Whoosh, whoosh.

The wild grass rustled in the wind; because it was so tall and dense, it actually formed wave-like undulations as the wind blew through it. Nan Liujing was trapped in this sea of green, with no way out, and found it extremely difficult to take a single step.

Rustle, rustle.

A snake was prodded out by a wooden spear; it raised its upper body high, facing Nan Liujing, hissing and flicking its tongue. Two pairs of eyes—one large, one small—stared each other down, both sides terrified. 

Nan Liujing forced himself to remain calm and carefully examined the shape of the snake’s head—it was round. But that didn’t mean much; many highly venomous snakes on Earth also had round heads. 

One of the valuable lessons Nan Liujing learned during his time as a student abroad was this: If you encounter an unfamiliar snake in the wild, even if you don’t know whether it’s venomous, assume it is and get away quickly. 

Or drive the snake away.

Nan Liujing steadied his wrist and gently tapped the snake’s belly with his wooden spear. As the snake lunged, he moved swiftly, flicking his wrist upward to fling the snake far away with the spear.

“Phew…” Nan Liujing let out a sigh of relief.

Snakes are timid creatures; there was a good chance it would come right back to bite him. 

Swish, swish.

Nan Liujing jerked his head up, a bead of cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

What on earth was that sound?

Ever since it started, a strange sound had been occurring every few dozen seconds. Nan Liujing had initially thought it was the sound of the wind, but the closer he got, the louder the sound became, and the more he could tell it was different from the sound of the wind. 

The inexplicable sounds ringing out at regular intervals, the wilderness stretching out before him, the danger lurking in the grass. Nan Liujing felt like he was about to have a panic attack.

Whoosh—

Another sound came from the distance, but to Nan Liujing’s ears, it was like a bolt from the blue. The hairs on his body stood on end, and before his mind could even process it, his body had already spun around abruptly. The wooden spear slipped from his hand, and he hurled it with all his might toward the source of the sound. 

Thud!

“Whoa…” 

Nan Liujing blinked. Cold sweat trickled from his eyelashes into his eyes, suddenly blurring his vision on one side.

He reflexively closed one eye, while his clear vision in the other eye tracked the wooden spear as it sliced through the air, watching helplessly as it flew several meters away in a single second.

The wind whipped up by the spear parted the wild grass, exposing the animals hiding among the vegetation. A spotted deer raised its head, and in the very next second, the spearhead pierced its neck. 

The flower deer let out a mournful cry of pain as a spray of blood shot out. It lifted its hooves, trying to flee, but as soon as it turned around, it lost its last bit of strength and collapsed to the ground.

Nan Liujing blinked again.

What just happened?

He froze in the motion of throwing, staring blankly as he pondered. He instinctively hurled the wooden spear forward. And then?

Then… then this wooden spear killed a deer?

Huh???

Was it just a fluke?

Nan Liujing jumped to his feet and rushed forward in two strides.

Parting the grass with both hands, he saw a spotted deer lying there, twisted and contorted, blood pooling around it, with his wooden spear still lodged in its neck.

“Holy crap…”

Could such a coincidence really happen in this world?

“Could it be that I have an insanely strong talent for javelin throwing?” Nan Liujing resisted the urge to reflect on whether he should have gone to the competitive class in high school or instead offered his services to the PE teacher. 

Speaking of which, he could’ve won a few Olympic gold medals before getting sucked into the game. He’d made the wrong choice at that crossroads in life!

Nan Liujing lamented for a second, then immediately crouched down to try to dismantle the flower deer’s corpse. 

Up until now, Nan Liujing had almost exclusively dismantled treasure chests; the only other time was when he dismantled a salmon. He’d noticed back then that the system’s dismantling function was rather rigid—it meticulously separated the meat by quality and cut.

The head, tail, and innards were separated, and the rest was roughly cut into steaks—that was it.

Nan Liujing didn’t get any of the fish’s belly or belly meat at all, so he didn’t even get to eat some fresh sashimi.

However, ever since he stabbed a zombie in the heart last time, Nan Liujing’s only boning knife had officially been reclassified as a combat weapon, meaning it would definitely come into contact with food. Now, Nan Liujing only had an oyster knife at his disposal, but using it to cut up venison would be too much to ask of the knife, so he had no choice but to use the system’s disassembly function. 

A spotted deer before his eyes transformed into 10 bone-in venison steaks and 20 bone-in cuts, each weighing 500g.

A large pile of deer offal, weighing five jin as well—this deer had been quite well-fed.

Deer hide x1. Nan Liujing picked up the hide and examined it, amazed to find that it was already tanned—he could lay it directly on his bed as a mattress when he got back.

Deer Head x1—this was the part that left Nan Liujing at a loss for words, as its item description had changed to 【Collectible】. It could be displayed at home or sold, but the suggested selling price was only 600 Sol. It was comparable to natural pearls, which were also classified as collectibles. 

Deer Blood x6, 500g each. This was also one of the reasons Nan Liujing had prepared in advance—if he were to dismember the entire deer, all this blood would have been drained. He’d already anticipated this. He pulled out his tablet, tapped the trading section, and began listing the items at lightning speed.

Deer meat and deer hides—he entered outrageously high prices and listed them on the shelves.

Deer blood, deer heads, and offal were put up for sale at varying prices. These items were quite useful to Nan Liujing, so he’d sell them if anyone was willing to buy them; if not, he’d take them back. 

After sorting everything out, Nan Liujing’s backpack was completely empty, and he was clean from head to toe.

He’d learned this much: there were no rules for listing items in the trading area, and it cost nothing to do so. He could list and remove items as she pleased—it was completely up to him. 

For the current player base, having enough backpack slots is already a major obstacle to venturing out to explore; the biggest problem is still having enough stamina. Picking up his wooden spear, Nan Liujing spent some time finding his way again and continued to feel his way forward.

The “swish, swish” sound still echoed in his ears, but perhaps because Hua Lu’s sacrifice had allowed Nan Liujing to release some of his anxiety, he was now emotionally stable and even had the mental clarity to notice clues he’d previously overlooked.

—The direction of the swish-swish sounds aligned with the direction of the path.

In other words, as long as he continued along the path, sooner or later he would come face-to-face with the true source of the sound.

Let’s go and see.

“Let’s go see!” 

On Canyon Island, Zhang Zihan spat out a mouthful of a mix of blood and saliva and gave the serpent monster in the sky a vicious middle finger.

All around him lay ruins scorched by fire and battered by wind—a landscape of massive craters and tumbling boulders. His left shoulder was bleeding profusely, and his face and hands bore several scrapes. Covered in dust and grime, he looked utterly bedraggled, as if he’d just taken a tumble—yet he quickly righted himself and defiantly faced the enemy in the sky.

On the other hand, the serpent monster was not unscathed either.

Of its once-intact wings, only three remained; another had been severed nearly in half by a sharp weapon and hung bloodied beneath its body, and one of its fire-breathing heads was missing an eye. 

Its three remaining eyes glared furiously at the little dwarf, and it flicked its tongue menacingly.

Zhang Zihan took a few deep breaths, feeling increasingly outmatched, but he had no other choice but to grit his teeth and press on.

After several rounds of combat, it was clear he was at a disadvantage. A head-on confrontation was out of the question now; he had no choice but to maneuver around it.

What should he do…

Heavy blood loss caused Zhang Zihan’s vision to darken; his head felt dizzy, and his fingers twitched slightly despite his efforts to control them. He bit down hard on the tip of his tongue—daring himself not to lose focus at this critical moment. The pain jolted his nerves, clearing his mind, and his fingers began groping frantically around him.

Suddenly, he felt a fragment that felt different from the surrounding dirt and rocks, and he paused for a moment. 

“Ssssh—” Just then, the serpent monster let out a furious roar, and surging flames erupted from its mouth. Zhang Zihan’s mind went blank; he let out a frantic curse and scrambled to his feet, running for his life.

All the available cover in the vicinity had been destroyed by the serpent monster; he had no other choice. Gritting his teeth, he plunged headfirst into the canyon. 

Splash! 

Nan Liujing brought his hand to his forehead, watching as the small pebble he’d thrown bounced three times on the water’s surface before losing momentum and sinking beneath the waves. He shrugged his shoulders.

He hadn’t yet reached the end of the path when— accompanied by a mysterious swishing sound—he passed by a small pond.

The pond was small enough that he could see the opposite shore at a glance, and the water was shallow—reaching only to his knees. It might be a bit deeper in the center, but as long as it didn’t go past Nan Liujing’s waist, it was perfectly acceptable.

The pond was home to fish, shrimp, and snails. Reed beds grew along the banks, and water birds flitted back and forth, completely unafraid of people. Best of all, there were vast expanses of lotus flowers; lotus leaves covered more than half the pond, though the blossoms had long since faded, and he didn’t see any lotus seedpods. 

Nan Liujing ventured a guess—there must be lotus roots at the bottom of this pond.

Compared to the lotus roots, these little fish, shrimp, snails, and birds were nothing in Nan Liujing’s eyes.

“I’ll go down and feel around first.”

Nan Liujing pulled up his pants. Fortunately, he’d known beforehand that he’d get splashed by seawater when he went out to sea, so he was wearing waterproof rain boots, quick-dry pants, and a windbreaker—but even so, he was a bit nervous about wading into the pond now. 

Carefully tucking his pant legs into his rain boots, Nan Liujing stamped his feet and took a step into the water.

Nan Liujing stepped down gently, but the mud at the bottom of the pond was extremely wet and slippery. He sank two or three centimeters, and his foot slipped, nearly causing him to lose balance.

“Whoa, this is a little dangerous.” He quickly used the wooden spear as a walking stick for support, which helped a bit, and so he inched his way down into the pond. Wobbling his way to the edge of the lotus leaves, Nan Liujing stuck the wooden spear into the ground beside him, then bent down to feel around in the mud beneath the water.

First, he felt the long stem beneath a lily pad. Nan Liujing continued feeling downward, using his fingers to dig into the mud beneath the stem.

The water was churning, and the silt was easy to dig through. After digging with his bare hands for a few minutes, he finally felt a somewhat rough, curved surface. Running his fingers along the curve, he sensed a narrow indentation formed where the curve suddenly narrowed.

Nan Liujing raised an eyebrow, and a smile spread across his face: “Sure enough, there’s a lotus root!”

What’s there to say? Let’s dig! 

Immediately, he spread his legs wide into a horse stance, plunged both hands underwater, and began feeling around and digging at the mud beside the lotus root.

He kept digging like this for over ten minutes. Nan Liujing was breaking a sweat; his lower back and both arms ached terribly, but he dared not relax—he had to stay tense, afraid that the slightest lapse in concentration might snap the lotus root.

If the silt got into some of the holes, it would be a real hassle to clean out.

What bothered Nan Liujing the most was this: the pond was rich in biodiversity, and the water wasn’t particularly clear to begin with—there was even a layer of green algae floating on the surface, which served as a delicacy for the nearby water birds.

As he groped around and dug, he stirred up even more mud, making the water even murkier. Standing in the water, he couldn’t make out what was beneath the surface at all. Holding a lotus root in his hand, with no way of telling which end was which, he could only dig slowly, suddenly feeling a sense of helplessness, as if he were a blind man feeling an elephant.

After struggling to dig for half a day, Nan Liujing’s expression suddenly froze; the corner of his mouth twitched for a second, and he let out a long sigh.

“Sigh…” Another five minutes passed, and he pulled half a lotus root from the water with each hand. The skin was earthy brown, but the cross-section was pure white, with a little silt clogging the tiny pores.

No matter how careful he’d been, he’d still managed to break them.

With a dejected look, he gave them a quick rinse in the pond water, tossed the lotus roots into his backpack, and saw that they were now labeled as 【Broken Lotus Roots】—which made him feel even worse.

If there’s a “Broken Lotus Root,” there must be a “Good Lotus Root” too, which means it would take up at least two slots.

“I might as well just dump all these broken lotus roots into the trading area—cleaning them is a hassle anyway,” Nan Liujing muttered to himself. He straightened up briefly to rub his lower back, took a couple of steps, then bent over again to continue digging.

Even if he wanted to sell the lotus roots, he’d have to wait until he was done digging; his top priority right now was to figure out the trick as quickly as possible and try to dig up a whole, intact lotus root.

Time flew by, and before he knew it, an hour and a half had passed.

Nan Liujing had broken seven lotus roots in a row, his face turning dark with frustration, before he finally managed to dig up a whole one.

This single lotus root had only three sections, yet it was plump and round, looking like three large potatoes strung end to end. Instantly, Nan Liujing felt a sense of pride; even the lotus root, caked in black mud, seemed endearing to him.

“I told you—no matter how hard this job seemed, there was no way I could ever get the hang of it.”

He tossed the intact lotus root into his backpack; sure enough, it took up a whole slot on its own, labeled 【Lotus Root】.

Seizing the moment, Nan Liujing downed a bottle of stamina potion in one go and continued digging.

He’d already drunk one bottle before starting to dig. No matter how many times he broke a lotus root, each one cost him 2 Stamina points, so two bottles of Stamina Potion would be enough for him to dig up 40 lotus roots.

He could have kept drinking potions, but unfortunately, the pond itself was quite large, and there weren’t that many lotus flowers in it.

In the end, Nan Liujing dug up only 29 whole lotus roots and 11 broken ones before rubbing his back and climbing ashore. He’d accidentally snapped a few more in the process. 

There was still a little less than half of the lotus flowers in the pond left to harvest, but Nan Liujing didn’t touch them. He understood the principle of not draining the pond to catch all the fish; he wanted to leave some of the native animals here.

Besides, his back was already aching.

Digging lotus roots was truly exhausting—no wonder wages for this line of work were so high on Earth; if an average person actually did this, with his stamina at 30 points—just a hair’s breadth away from severe exhaustion—Nan Liujing paced around the pond once more and set his sights on the reed beds along the shore. 

There were waterbird eggs hidden in the reed beds. Nan Liujing spotted them, but the waterbirds in this area were large, and their eggs were a size smaller than quail eggs—it was really troublesome to gather them, so Nan Liujing passed them by.

What caught his eye were the reeds themselves. The stalks here had turned yellow, with feather-like flowers sprouting from their tops; he felt they could be cut down, dried, and put to use. It was a pity there were no reed shoots—otherwise, he could have collected yet another type of food. 

However, upon reflection, he realized he didn’t have any relevant blueprints, and since he had plenty of stamina to spare, he decided against gathering them after all.

Although the rule of thumb for foraging is to “steal what’s left” and “take whatever you can,” time and stamina are limited after all, so making trade-offs is crucial.

Nan Liujing was absolutely exhausted. It had already been over five hours since he’d set foot on the island. He crouched by the pond to wash his hands, then plopped down on the bank and pulled some dried grilled octopus out of his backpack to munch on.

Eating this had already boosted his Agility, but this portion of dried grilled octopus weighed 500g—he’d brought it along specifically for lunch.

The dried octopus was tough and chewy, so Nan Liujing drank water as he munched, finishing off all the plain water he’d brought. Fortunately, he finished the dried octopus, felt full, and his stamina recovered to 60.

Now even his fatigue had vanished.

Fully revitalized, Nan Liujing brushed the crumbs off his hands, stood up feeling light as a feather, and continued walking along the path. Behind him, the pond shimmered in the sunlight.

A white waterbird floated on the water’s surface, swimming slowly. Every now and then, it would dip its head to peck at green algae, while its beady little eyes kept a close watch on the fish swimming beneath the surface. Suddenly, the waterbird dove into the water and snapped up a small fish with its long beak.

Splash! 

A hand reached out from the river, slapped the bank with a loud smack, and immediately grabbed hold of a wild grass with thick stems and leaves.

Zhang Zihan surfaced like a water ghost, his face pale and his lips blackened. The bloodstains on his hoodie—slit open by the wind blade—had already been washed away by the river water, revealing a long gash on his thin, frail shoulder beneath. The edges of the wound were white and flared outward; the slightest movement would cause blood to gush out.

Today’s temperature had risen slightly from yesterday’s, but it was still below 20°C, and the river was even colder.

Zhang Zihan shivered all over from the cold. He coughed rapidly for a while before catching his breath. He grabbed some wild grass on the bank to pull himself out of the water, then lay face-down on the bank, motionless.

He rested for quite a while, barely breathing, before finally mustering a little strength. He pulled out the tablet—an item no gamer would ever be without—and, with stiff fingers, retrieved a bottle of pale green potion from his backpack. He pulled out the cork and poured it into his mouth. 

As the potion dissolved in his mouth, color gradually returned to Zhang Zihan’s pale face, the bleeding from his shoulder wound stopped, and it began to heal.

“Phew…”

The young man struggled to his feet, shook the water from his head like a puppy shaking off water, and looked at the stats on the tablet.

【Name: Zhang Zihan】

【Talent: Skywalker】 

【Class: None】

【Health: 2/18】

【Stamina: 34/150】 

【Energy: 60/60】

【Strength: 21】

【Agility: 24】

【Spirit: 6】

【Skills: Wind Sword Lv., Danger Alert Lv.】

【Island: Island of Supremacy】

“That was close—I almost died,” Zhang Zihan said, still shaken. Fortunately, the health potion he’d just downed had taken effect, and his health was rising at a rate of one point per second and would be fully restored in 20 seconds. 

“Where did the Snake Monster go?” Zhang Zihan looked up again, gazing at the narrow strip of sky above.

The canyon was terrifyingly deep; looking up at the sky now, he could see only a narrow strip of sky. Zhang Zihan finally understood what the phrase “a sliver of sky” in his textbook meant.

Sure enough, Old Ban was right: “Read ten thousand books and travel ten thousand miles.” 

But if given the choice, Zhang Zihan would still rather be back in his dorm room reading thousands of books. As for which subject to choose, math would do just fine. 

Zhang Zihan blinked; the river water stung his eyes, making them itch, and he resisted the urge to rub them. 

After jumping in, he was immediately swept away by the river current. It carried him a long way before he managed to crawl out by sheer luck—he had long since lost track of where he was.

He even told himself that the snake monster might be even more confused. The monster was enormous; if it had been nearby, Zhang Zihan probably would have spotted it. The danger alert was an active skill—it could even serve as eyes in the back of his head.

He was certain the snake monster was not nearby, and he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Just then, he suddenly felt a sharp, jabbing pain in the palm of his left hand. Only then did he remember that before jumping into the river, he seemed to have grabbed a pebble but hadn’t had time to throw it away. He hadn’t expected the river to be so turbulent—he’d been swept away so violently he’d lost all sense of where he was—yet he’d stubbornly refused to let go, and the pebble had come along with him.

“What on earth is this thing?”

Zhang Zihan spread his palm; the palm was marked with regular red indentations from the sharp stones. He stared at the dark red stone, his expression momentarily frozen.

【Iron Ore (Fragments)】

【Category: Materials】

【The most common and widely used material, slightly higher in grade than basic materials. This piece is too small to be of any use.】

【Suggested Price: 12 Sol】

Zhang Zihan snapped out of it. “There’s ore in that pile of rubble over there?”

“Holy crap!”

“What the hell is this?!”

Nan Liujing finally reached the end of the path, but stood there, hesitating to step forward. 

The scene before him completely exceeded his imagination—it would have been mind-blowing even in a horror movie.

Before him lay vast, endless expanses of farmland, all bearing traces of human cultivation. But it must have been a long time ago—these fields looked long abandoned, the soil hardened and crusted, overgrown with weeds.

On a few of the fields, remnants of harvested wheat stalks remained, leaving the ground bare and long since rotted away. 

One by one, scarecrows made of straw and wooden sticks stood there, hunched over, swinging their sickles back and forth as they cut.

In theory, they should be harvesting wheat, but there was no wheat there—only air.

The sickles swung through the air, stroke after stroke, making a swish-swish sound.

Several scarecrows moved in unison, bending over at the same time and swinging their knives simultaneously; the swishing sounds of their blades cutting through the air made them seem particularly vivid.

These scarecrows had once been clothed, but after years of exposure to wind and sun, the fabric had long since disintegrated, leaving tattered remnants hanging from the wooden poles. The twine used to bind the straw had also snapped, and with every movement, a few strands of straw would fall out. Each one had become incredibly shriveled, and even the facial features painted on their faces had taken on an eerie appearance. 

Nan Liujing felt his “Happy Valley Effect” about to kick in. 

What on earth is going on here?