Chapter 19: Danger Approaches

It’s not that I’m selfish, but I was truly starving. People say beef jerky can restore energy, so I tore open a box, finding the jerky intact. I grabbed a piece as thick as a finger and devoured it in one gulp. Usually, everyone treats it as a mere snack, but at this moment, to me, it was a lifeline—just as enticing as a bowl of rice or noodles.

I even drank a can of Red Bull, and only then did I feel somewhat satisfied.

If the banana tree’s core had given me my first taste of fullness in days, then just a few strips of beef jerky and a can of Red Bull now instantly made me feel like I’d returned to the normal world of modern society.

Yet all this seemed fleeting, an illusion. After all, supplies were limited. Amid my initial joy, I gradually realized this was only temporary.

Gazing at the white spray of water and the waterfall plunging into the pool with its thunderous roar, I suddenly calmed. While marveling at the harshness of this world and sensing the unknown wonders life still held, I was also filled with a vague confusion about survival.

Then I fully emptied my backpack, now thoroughly soaked. To my surprise, I found several men’s clothes and a compressed, thin duck down quilt inside. Clothes and blankets were undoubtedly precious supplies for us now.

After two or three days of hardship, I was almost certain that although it wouldn’t be too cold here, the rainforest nights were full of mosquitoes and poisonous gases. Having clothes and a blanket to cover the body was definitely a blessing.

Earlier, I had torn pieces from my own clothes to bandage Lan Fang’s wound, leaving my garments in tatters. After days of jostling through the rainforest, my clothes were completely worn out.

So I took out these new clothes, slipped on a T-shirt, and managed to dress myself properly again. Although I had no idea whose these things were, their arrival felt like divine intervention. Though the damp clothes were uncomfortable against my skin, they at least made me whole.

Then, in a side pocket of the backpack, I found a small, palm-sized, simple Red Cross first aid kit. Such kits are standard outdoor gear and might contain hemostats, even surgical scalpels or suturing needles—essential tools for serious wilderness activities.

At first, I hesitated to open it. Many outdoor enthusiasts tend to put on a show, so I feared this pack might be empty too. But I couldn’t resist the urge and unzipped it, finding the supplies intact. Seeing them, I didn’t even bother counting; just knowing they were there eased my mind.

Everything suddenly became simpler. I opened every side pocket, unfastened zippers and buttons, and as I examined each item, I felt a surge of excitement swelling inside me.

That excitement warmed me, dissipating the chill beneath the waterfall and lifting my spirits from cold to exhilarated.

Finally, spotting some common outdoor medicines tucked beneath the backpack, my hands trembled. It wasn’t just for Lan Fang’s sake; in this environment, medicine was among the most vital and scarce resources.

As I sorted through these items, my heart pounded wildly, disbelief mingled with hope.

I no longer cared which items were immediately useful or could be set aside. Things I had once considered trivial suddenly felt more valuable than gold.

After my initial excitement, I carefully inventoried every usable tool and object inside and out. Any unnecessary weight was a burden, but anything useful—including the empty Red Bull bottles—was kept.

Among the items were two lighters, a small high-powered lithium flashlight, and a broad-bladed military knife hidden in the backpack’s backplate. For food, there were five well-preserved snack packets. For drinks, four bottles remained, plus one and a half bottles of mineral water.

Along with several pieces of clothing and the compressed duck down quilt, this small pile of supplies suddenly made me feel almost complete.

If these past three days had been misfortune, now I felt incredibly fortunate.

Perhaps because everything was soaked, the backpack felt heavier, and the clothes and blanket weighed more. I wrung out the damp items one by one, packed everything carefully, slung on the backpack, and prepared to leave.

With food, drink, clothing, and bedding secured, my heart brimmed with genuine excitement.

Though I knew these provisions could only sustain us briefly, having them was like winning the lottery.

As daylight waned, I stood beneath the waterfall, gazing at the pool and the surrounding rainforest, a flicker of hope rising within me: “Heaven above, since you haven’t let me die here, please let me live well...”

“Xiang Xiang, Xiang Xiang, Sister Fang...”

Filled with a touch of excitement, I emerged from beneath the waterfall. Around me, only the roar of the water filled the air. Unable to contain my joy, I stepped quickly over the jagged stones by the pool’s edge, hurrying back.

Yet the two figures by the river didn’t respond to my calls. Perhaps the waterfall’s roar drowned out my voice.

“Wait until I call you and you don’t answer—I’ll take half your share!” I thought mischievously, determined to teach them a lesson. I was shouting so loudly, and they ignored me; I would have to ration these supplies carefully to ensure our survival.

Within minutes, I reached the spot where the pool’s water flowed into a small river. Carrying the vine rope and backpack, I panted as I approached. Remembering my earlier thought, I took off the backpack and tossed it into the nearby grass, planning to give them a surprise.

Truly, I was lucky!

When we were on the brink of starvation, first finding some banana tree hearts, then these supplies—it was a blessing from heaven.

“Xiang Xiang, what are you doing? How’s Sister Fang?” Just as I prepared to move toward the Bodhi tree, I suddenly felt sharp points pressing against me from several directions!

Perhaps because I had just eaten, my energy surged, and my pace quickened noticeably.

In an instant, a crisis erupted!