Day 25 of Survival: A Peaceful Day.

Thursday‌.

When he woke up early that morning, the rain had cleared. Nan Liujing spat out his mouthwash, scooped up a handful of clean water, and splashed it on his face—finally feeling much more awake.

Squinting, he felt for the towel hanging on the wall, yanked it over, and roughly wiped his face. Nan Liujing opened his eyes and saw a sleepy-eyed young man in the mirror: his hair was a mess, and both eyes were swollen from lack of sleep, with huge dark circles hanging beneath them.

Having to get up every two hours all night long to get water when the alarm went off—only those who’ve lived through it know what that’s like.

Fortunately, his efforts paid off. By sacrificing a night’s sleep, Nan Liujing saved his floor from being soaked and ruined by the rain.

He was so exhausted that Nan Liujing yawned as he came out of the bathroom. He was tempted to take a quick nap, but when he thought about how the entire island was waiting for him to clean up after the typhoon, he could only regretfully give up that very tempting idea.

The first thing he did after washing up was to rekindle the fireplace. Nan Liujing had gotten up frequently during the night to use the restroom, and while pouring water, he’d taken the opportunity to add some firewood, so the fireplace was still warm—the flames were small, but they hadn’t gone out completely.

Nan Liujing crouched in front of the fireplace, reached a poker into the firebox, and poked at the flames a couple of times to slightly loosen the pile of firewood and charcoal. He then snapped off two fresh pieces of firewood and added them to the fire.

As he watched the flames spread to the new wood, dancing and crackling, Nan Liujing set down the poker, picked up the small broom and dustpan used specifically for cleaning the fireplace, and quickly swept away the ash and embers around the fire, dumping them into the metal bucket nearby.

Once the fireplace was burning, the temperature inside the farmhouse gradually rose.

Hei Tang stretched out on the roof, gave a big yawn, and let out a loud “meow,” then sat up and scratched her ear with her hind leg.

Nian Gao had also woken up and was happily gnawing on his pinecone ball in her nest.

Now the two little ones have become very accustomed to their work and have even gradually figured out a routine.

After waking up in the morning, they’d first play around in the farmhouse for a while. After eating breakfast, they’d head out at exactly 8:00 a.m. First, they’d go together to the animal shed to let the animals out. Then Hei Tang would run off to play or sleep, while Nian Gao would head to the slime ranch to herd the slimes.

Once the slimes are all fed, Nian Gao also runs off to play on its own. At 5:00 p.m., they meet up again to herd the animals and slimes back, wrapping up the day’s herding work.

Nan Liujing never taught them this routine from start to finish, nor did he ever make any demands—it’s all something the two of them organized on their own. They’ve taken a lot of the workload off Nan Liujing’s shoulders, and he has to say, it’s a huge relief.

All Nan Liujing had to do was prepare food every day and find time to play with them.

This morning, it was just two packets of pet biscuits and the seafood soup he’d hung over the fireplace last night.

The ingredients were all small fish, shrimp, and various shellfish that Nan Liujing had gathered while foraging along the shore over the past few days. He had simmered them over the fire all night, and when he opened the pot, the broth was rich and flavorful—all the essence of the fish and shrimp had been infused into the soup.

Nan Liujing took out a fine-mesh strainer to remove the fish bones and shrimp shells, then picked out the shells, leaving only the meat and broth.

No seasonings had been added to the seafood soup, but it smelled incredibly delicious. Once he poured it into the food bowl, Nian Gao and Hei Tang both came running over to eat. They buried their heads in the bowl, sticking out their little tongues to lap up the warm soup, occasionally scooping up a softened pet biscuit, chewing it, and swallowing it.

While they were eating breakfast, Nan Liujing put on his coat, preparing to head out and face the island in the wake of the typhoon.

As he pushed open the door, he was met with a scene of utter devastation.

The land on Unknown Island had always been severely barren, but now it was an even more dismal sight: the cracked earth was littered with fallen trees and rocks of varying sizes, with the occasional dead sea fish lying there with its eyes wide open. This debris had pitted the island with craters large and small, creating a particularly desolate scene.

Even the typhoon guardrails protecting the buildings—after just one typhoon—had completely exhausted their magic and automatically disintegrated into a pile of wood shavings, which piled up against the exterior of the buildings and were scattered everywhere by the wind.

The tops of various buildings on the island had also been struck several times; some were pierced through, while others were lodged on the roofs.

As Nan Liujing looked on, he couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose.

Ugh, my head hurts.

Anyway, let’s take stock of the damage first.

He won’t count these craters on the ground—it’s just open space anyway, so it doesn’t matter if there are craters or not.

A large hole had been smashed through the roof on the west side of the farmhouse, and the floor had been shattered as well. Nan Liujing couldn’t repair this himself, and the tablet didn’t offer any repair functions, so he’d have to ask the natives on Olive Town Island later.

However, this matter would have to be put off, because—as expected—his makeshift dock had been destroyed by the typhoon. Without the dock, he couldn’t set sail.

The makeshift dock is an important beacon for Unknown Island. Whether it’s the nautical chart or the alchemical golem Jinks, their safe return depends on the dock’s guidance. In other words, without the makeshift dock, even if Nan Liujing could sail out, he wouldn’t be able to come back.

After all, even he himself didn’t know the coordinates of Unknown Island, so Jinks had absolutely no way of memorizing them.

So before setting sail, he had to first send a letter to Milai, asking for his help in repairing the makeshift dock.

Oh, and he’d have to rebuild the mailbox, too, since it had been destroyed as well.

Apart from that, the damage to the island’s other structures varied.

The roof of the animal shed had four or five small holes, and about half the grass in the grazing area had been crushed.

These were minor issues, though—once he cleared away the wood and stones from the grazing area, the grass would naturally grow back before long, requiring little effort on Nan Liujing’s part.

None of the animals were injured, so he left after collecting the eggs and milking the cows.

The smokehouse was in the best condition—it remained completely undamaged, and the roof was intact.

As for the slime ranch, it didn’t matter at all; it was just a shed that, luckily, hadn’t been hit. Although quite a few items had fallen onto the ground, it was just an open area anyway, so all he had to do was clean it up.

The slimes had all taken shelter under the shed and were unharmed.

While counting them, Nan Liujing discovered there was one extra.

“Huh?”

He paused, turned back, and counted them again.

Land Subspecies x10, Ocean Subspecies x1, Pure Water x1, Mulberry x1, Beach x8……

Nan Liujing pushed aside the Mulberry and Ocean Subspecies slimes—they were huddled behind a slightly smaller blue-purple gradient slime—and asked, puzzled, “Where did you come from?”

The slime blinked its beady eyes innocently and let out a “gurgle.”

【Slime (Sea Salt Mulberry)】

【Classification: Magical Creature】

【Attributes: Water, Wood】

【A Water/Wood-element Slime, a hybrid of two element types, which can only be born in a captive breeding environment. Produces 1 sea salt mulberry jelly per day.】

【Elemental Skill: Torrent.】

【Torrential Flow: Sprays a small stream of seawater; not particularly useful.】

【Sea Salt Mulberry Jelly】

【Category: Food】

【A chewy, sea salt mulberry jelly produced exclusively by artificially raised slimes. Eating it restores 5 Stamina points.】

【Suggested Retail Price: 300 Sol.】

“Is this… the slime reproducing on its own?”

Nan Liujing cradled the newborn slime in his hands. Its blue-to-purple gradient was quite beautiful, making its translucent body appear even more crystalline in the sunlight. He paused to think for a moment, then said solemnly, “From now on, you’ll join the Ocean Subspecies Slimes and drink seawater.”

The slime blinked its eyes again.

There was nothing he could do about it. Nan Liujing still hadn’t managed to get any fresh mulberries, and the mulberry slime had gone hungry for several days—though fortunately, it had merely stopped producing rather than starving to death.

Before leaving the slime ranch, Nan Liujing went to check the machine again. He had poured a large pile of pottery shards into the Slime Maker before the typhoon, and by now, the process was long complete.

He patted the machine, and a brownish slime was ejected, plopping onto the ground and squishing flat.

【Slime (River Subspecies)】

【Category: Magical Creature】

【Element: Earth】

【A river subspecies of Earth-element Slimes that prefers to live near riverbeds. They gnaw on moist soil, digest it internally, and excrete fine clay—the best material for making pottery.】

【Elemental Skill: Mud-Eating.】

【Mud-Eating: Eat some mud, excrete some mud—this is simply a feeding process.】

After leaving the slime ranch, Nan Liujing went to check on the Ocean Ranch.

The Ocean Ranch is a structure built in the ocean, making it the most vulnerable to damage during typhoons. Thanks to the sturdy typhoon guardrail, the structures themselves remained undamaged. However, one of the four breeding zones was completely empty—the eels had been crushed to death. Nan Liujing cast a regretful glance at the eel rice recipe in the cooking menu; he’d finally managed to unlock it, only to lose the ingredients. Sigh……

He had no choice but to go back to the trading area, buy 10 more fish fry, and release them into the empty farming zone, hoping to get lucky and find one worth breeding.

Finally, there were the farm fields. After patrolling the fields, Nan Liujing pressed his fingertips to his brow once more.

The damage to the farmland was within his acceptable range. While some fields had indeed been struck by debris, fortunately, the affected areas were all plots where no crops had been planted. Removing the debris and plowing the fields again would not affect future planting.

As for the fields where crops had been planted, many soybean pods had been blown off, and a layer of soil had been scraped away, exposing ripe sweet potatoes.

The wheat had been blown over; fortunately, because the wind was so strong, the plants had been uprooted—rather than having their stems snapped—so there was still a chance to save them.

Nan Liujing quickly and carefully straightened the wheat plants, buried them deeply back into the soil, and watered them, hoping to stabilize the root system.

Fortunately, after watering, the wheat’s growth cycle resumed as normal, which was a relief to him.

Today was also the second harvest day for sweet potatoes and eggplants. Since the sweet potatoes were buried in the ground, they weren’t significantly affected by the typhoon, allowing Nan Liujing to harvest 76 sweet potatoes—a bountiful harvest.

The eggplants, however, didn’t fare as well. When the typhoon struck yesterday, many of the nearly ripe eggplants were blown off and rotted in the mud, leaving Nan Liujing with only 10 to pick from the vines.

Fortunately, the plants themselves weren’t too badly affected and should still be able to produce one more crop.

There are now 115 empty spots available for planting in the fields. Nan Liujing had his eye on the “Harvest No. 12” wheat seeds he bought yesterday from the Harvest Association. He didn’t rush to plant them in the four premium plots; instead, he only planted 15 white radishes in the lower-quality fields.

The mailbox was destroyed by the typhoon. Yesterday’s letter should have been sent out successfully, but he won’t be able to receive any replies. He also won’t be able to receive the prizes from the postcard raffle, the wheat seeds, or the pickle processing machine, and the newspaper that was supposed to arrive today is gone as well. Nan Liujing must rebuild the mailbox as soon as possible.

Before doing that, however, he needs to clear away all the obstacles scattered across the island.

Nan Liujing grabbed his iron axe and also bought a simple pickaxe from the trading area to break up rocks that were too large to be recognized as materials by the system.

He also grabbed a plastic bucket to make it easier to collect fish.

First, he chopped all the wood into planks, then strolled around collecting dead fish. During the low tide, he took the opportunity to gather supplies on the beach as well. Finally, he was almost done with his work.

Only a few massive boulders remained lying on the ground. Nan Liujing picked up the makeshift pickaxe and started chipping away at them.

This was his first time chipping away at a rock. Not knowing exactly how to go about it, he just struck it wildly with all his might. The pickaxe tip repeatedly struck the rock’s surface, sending stone chips flying. Before long, faint cracks began to appear on the boulder’s surface. Nan Liujing struck it a few more times with all his strength and finally chipped off a piece of rock.

This piece—the one he’d chipped off—was the kind of rock the system recognized as a basic material.

Its size was less than one-tenth that of the boulder before him.

Nan Liujing caught his breath and muttered under his breath, “This is going to be a huge undertaking.”

No choice—he’d just have to keep chipping away.

After finishing one boulder, he collected 9 stones—mostly small pebbles—but his stamina was drained by as much as 20.

Of course, part of this was due to the crude pickaxe making the work twice as hard for half the result; mining is inherently more physically demanding than chopping down trees.

Nan Liujing collected the small pebbles as well; he could use them to pave roads later.

Halfway through chiseling the second boulder, Nan Liujing was completely spent. It was as if he’d done two or three hours of cardio on an empty stomach first thing in the morning—he was starving—so he decided to head home for breakfast.

For breakfast, he had a vegetable and shrimp omelet, red wine braised chicken, black pepper chicken-infused mashed potatoes, and onion soup. For dessert, he had a slice of cake.

The reheated omelet was soft and tender, and the shrimp were crisp and springy. The combination created a wonderful texture, and the flavor was relatively light, without being overly seasoned.

The red wine braised chicken had a much richer flavor. It was made with chicken thighs, cut into large chunks, which, after a long simmer, had turned an enticing dark brown. However, since it had been sitting in the food storage area for several days, even after reheating, it wasn’t as good as when it was freshly cooked, though it had absorbed more flavor.

There was a large plate of mashed potatoes. Nan Liujing scooped up a few spoonfuls to savor the creamy texture, then rolled the chicken in it a few times to coat it thoroughly before eating, and finally washed it all down with a bowl of onion soup.

But it was still the same issue: the onion soup had been sitting in the serving area for too long. The slices of baguette and cheese that were originally floating on top had completely sunk into the soup. The real joy of eating onion soup is supposed to be savoring the chewy, crispy top layer of the bread, the bottom layer soaked with hot broth—offering two textures in one bite. Paired with the creamy aroma of the cheese, it’s impossible to stop at just one bite.

But as for the one I have now…

Hmm… It’s still edible.

After finishing off the slice of cake, Nan Liujing had completed his breakfast and mastered the recipes for mashed potatoes, onion soup, and cake—a very fruitful morning.

With his belly full, he shouldered his makeshift pickaxe and headed out to continue chiseling stones.

Clink, clink, clink!

Clang!

“Huh?” Nan Liujing stopped what he was doing, bent down to pick up a fallen rock, and raised an eyebrow after flipping it over to take a look.

He saw that the cross-section of the rock, created by the strikes, actually had flecks of red that didn’t look like stone.

【Iron Ore】

【Category: Ore】

【The most common and most frequently used material, slightly higher in grade than basic materials.】

【Suggested Selling Price: 75 Sol】

“I can actually mine ore?” This was great news—for all players.

Wood, stone, fish, ore—as long as you survive the typhoon, the next day you’ll be able to gather a large amount of materials on your own island. These include not only the most commonly used basic materials and food, but also a chance to obtain higher-grade ores and even gems.

Whether you use them yourself or trade them at the marketplace, you definitely won’t lose out.

When you put it that way, the various losses caused by the typhoon can be offset.

Nan Liujing tucked the iron ore away and went back to chiseling away at the rocks.

After clanging and clattering away for half a day—even skipping lunch—Nan Liujing finally cleared every last stone from the island. Unknown Island, having undergone an expansion, was much larger than other players’ islands; the larger the area, the more resources dropped, making cleanup all the more time-consuming.

But the haul was equally substantial. Including what he’d picked up on the beach, Nan Liujing obtained 188 wooden planks, 198 stones, 3 canvas scraps, 11 palm leaves, 1 treasure chest, 21 dead fish, 12 iron ores, 6 copper ores, 3 silver ores, 1 gold ore, 2 sapphires, 1 moonstone, and 1 topaz.

Opening the treasure chest revealed 5 tomato seeds, 1 wool scarf, and 1 toy ball.

He casually dismantled the treasure chest, obtaining 2 wooden planks and 2 iron nails.

Nan Liujing took the windmill blueprint out of his backpack, chose a spot at the junction of the reef area and the beach—just to the left and in front of the farmhouse— on an open patch of land near the seashore to build the windmill.

Soon, the spot he had chosen was obscured by a thick fog, and the clanging sounds of construction began. Nan Liujing didn’t linger to watch; instead, he went outside the gate and rebuilt the mailbox.

Next was sending a letter to Milai.

With the letter safely sent, Nan Liujing went out to mail it, and the windmill was completed at that very moment.

The finished windmill stood a full ten meters tall; its lower section was a trapezoidal wooden structure. Built with timber rather than planks, the house was exceptionally sturdy, and its base was raised on a foundation of stone bricks.

The massive windmill was firmly anchored to the top of the trapezoidal structure, facing the sea. As a sea breeze blew in, the blades turned slowly, emitting a whooshing sound.

Nan Liujing entered through the small front door of the windmill and made his way inside.

The interior was four stories high. In the very center of the lowest level stood a pitch-black pipe, stretching from the floor all the way to the roof; this pipe was connected to a millstone situated in the center of the room.

On either side of the room were two boxes mounted on the wall—one red and one green.

Nan Liujing examined them and discovered that as long as he placed the raw materials to be ground into the red box, the millstone would automatically begin grinding, and the finished product would be stored in the green box.

Furthermore, the green box is a one-way container—meaning Nan Liujing can take flour out of it, but once removed, it cannot be put back in.

Therefore, the green box can only serve as a temporary storage space at best; it is not as convenient as a proper warehouse.

In addition to the two crates, there were numerous spaces partitioned by wooden slats along the walls inside the windmill—presumably slots for processing machines. Nan Liujing walked up and down to inspect them and found that there were 10 slots on the first floor, 8 on the second, and only 6 on the third.

It couldn’t be helped—after all, the windmill was trapezoidal, so the upper levels naturally had less space than the lower ones.

This meant he could install a total of 24 processing machines inside, none of which consumed magic crystals—a very cost-effective arrangement.

However, since he didn’t have any processing machines to place right now, he made a detour back to the warehouse, retrieved all the wheat, and placed it in the red chest to grind it slowly.

He could also check the grinding ratio here: it took 2 units of wheat to produce 1 unit of flour. Nan Liujing did the math and decided it wasn’t a big deal, so he headed back.

By then, it was already 2:00 p.m., and Nan Liujing finally had time to prepare lunch for himself.

He opened the shelves in the trading area to take a look; there wasn’t much food left. He estimated that in just two days, he’d finish everything except the hardtack. As for the hardtack, if eaten with other dishes, it would last at least half a month.

Nan Liujing planned to save it for the Day of Calamity.

He dumped all of today’s lunch into a pot, hung it over the stove to heat up, and sat down on the sofa, pulling out his tablet while she waited for the food.

He was somewhat curious about the survival status of other players, so when he opened the forum, the first thing he did was check the player count in the upper-right corner.

Seeing that the online player count had dropped to just over 59,000, he paused in surprise.

“How could so many have died?”

But looking through the posts on the forum, there weren’t actually many clues.

After all, only the living can post, and the game’s single-player nature prevents players from keeping track of others’ movements in real time.

Without a real-time chat system, players can’t leave final messages in time—posting on the forum is just too slow.

The game doesn’t even allow party formation. Players who finally managed to meet on Lava Island discovered that visiting other players’ islands also comes with a time limit.

Most players only survived thanks to the Committee’s rescue efforts, and at this moment, many are still at their Liaison’s house. Some of them are seeing the natives’ town for the first time; they find everything so wonderful that they instantly don’t want to return to their own small islands, so they share this thought with the Liaison, hoping to stay.

However, joining the natives’ town isn’t that easy—it requires obtaining the town’s “Honorary Citizen” title or spending 5 million Sol to purchase a resident share—requirements that players at this stage simply cannot meet, so they have no choice but to give up.

Rescued players can stay on the liaison’s island for 48 hours; most of them choose to stay the full 48 hours until they are forced to leave, at which point they ask the liaison to send them home.

Currently, the forum is flooded with posts sharing experiences exploring the indigenous towns.

Those who remained on the island are lamenting the damage caused by the typhoon, while others are rejoicing over the abundance of resources left behind by the storm. In short, the forum is filled with posts, and very few of them mention the deceased players.

The dead were left behind during the typhoon, while the living have already moved on, with no one looking back.

Nan Liujing just sighed and opened the group chat to take a look.

The group members were also busy cleaning up the disaster-stricken island; only Xu Jia had sent a message this morning to confirm everyone’s safety, to which others replied one after another.

Seeing this, Nan Liujing also typed “1” in the group chat, then closed it and opened the trading section.

While cleaning up the island earlier, he’d picked up quite a few dead fish. Since Nan Liujing had his own marine ranch that could reliably produce fresh fish, he wasn’t very interested in the dead ones, so he decided to post them in the trading section to exchange them for seeds, materials, or ores—things he could actually use.