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Zeke gathered several dry branches and found a broken ceramic jar.
Tearing off a small strip of cloth, he scraped some wood shavings with a stone, revealing the dry inner part of the branch. Then, wrapping the cloth around the twigs, he began to rotate them vigorously, employing the friction method for starting a fire.
Zeke could clearly identify which branches were most likely to ignite and knew precisely the angle and force needed to quickly produce sparks.
After a while, as twilight descended, a campfire flickered to life.
The flames dispelled much of the chill. Zeke scrubbed the ceramic jar clean with snow, filled it with fresh snowballs, and boiled a pot of water—though not necessarily pristine, at least it would be hot, far better than having nothing.
Thus, Zeke enjoyed warm water.
Sipping the hot water slowly, he savored the warmed bread, draped himself in tattered rags, and felt the comforting warmth from the fire—all these combined finally gave Zeke a sense that he was truly alive.
"The language I just used is definitely not Mandarin..." Zeke pondered the various peculiarities surrounding him while chewing thoughtfully.
Although not Mandarin, it felt just as familiar and comforting to Zeke, a native Shenzhou speaker, as if it were his mother tongue since childhood.
"So, I've truly been transported to another world."
"Then this exceptional cognitive ability, is it my special 'cheat'?"
Zeke pondered more about how to utilize this skill for survival rather than delving deep into its origins.
Regardless, thanks to this ability, Zeke managed to earn his first piece of bread amidst the icy wilderness, securing a chance at life.
Thus, he decided to be grateful first, focusing on continuing to survive.
"Swoosh! Swoosh!"
As Zeke ate with hot water nearby, he heard footsteps crunching through the snow.
'Human steps? A child perhaps?'
Instantly from the sound, Zeke discerned the species and build of the approaching figure.
Turning around confirmed his assessment.
In the blustery snowy night, a frail and petite silhouette stumbled into the bridge's shelter.
"Fire... There's fire here... I'm freezing to death!"
With a series of excited squeals, she abruptly transformed from a shivering waif into a lively little calf. Without hesitation, she rushed towards Zeke, warmed her hands by the fire, and her dirty face lit up with an expression of pure bliss, akin to a contented kitten.
"Thank you so much for letting me use your fire! Huh? You have food too? Can I... slurp..."
Tears inexplicably welled at the corners of this strangely familiar white-haired girl's mouth, trailing down as she instinctively licked them—ah, tears indeed.
'Her clothes are a bit dirty but still quite decent. Maybe a wealthy kid? Ran away from home? Hmm, might as well extend some kindness; it could prove useful later.'
Motivated one part by concern for the youngling and nine parts by future considerations, Zeke handed over a warm, perfectly toasted piece of bread that he hadn't yet touched.
In the blink of an eye, it vanished.
Yes, just like that, within a single glance, Zeke found his hand empty.
Realizing what happened, he turned towards the direction of the white-haired girl.
He saw her cheeks puffed out, chewing vigorously. Her large round eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Zeke, their gleam intensified under the flickering firelight.
"..."
It was somewhat cute.
But not scientifically plausible.
Zeke glanced at the bread inside the paper bag, which was significantly larger than an adult's palm, and then looked at the white-haired girl's tiny mouth.
How did she manage to stuff something so big in there?
Is the capacity of this little girl's body truly that impressive?
Then his interest instantly waned.
Her ravenous eating manner greatly diminished the likelihood that the white-haired girl came from well-off circumstances. Those clothes were probably just luckily found somewhere, right? In summary, she held no further value for exploitation.
Zeke gathered up the paper bag, containing the remaining three pieces of bread that would serve as his meals tomorrow. Simultaneously, he disregarded the suddenly dimmed gaze of the white-haired girl.
I'm tired; no serving paupers today.
Huh? You call this lacking compassion for children?
Well, I myself am still young, so prioritizing my own needs first—what's wrong with that?
"Can I...?"
Having finished chewing, the white-haired girl gazed pleadingly at Zeke.
Zeke pulled the dirty blanket tighter around himself and interrupted without even lifting his head:
"This side is my spot. It's more sheltered from the wind, rightfully belonging to me—the one who arrived first, built the fire, and even shared food with you. Feel free to choose any other area near the fire; at least you won't freeze."
"Oh," the white-haired girl obediently responded.
Yes, very well-behaved—if only one could ignore her whispered grumbles that Zeke clearly overheard.
"Cheapskate..."
"I'm not going to argue with you..."
"As if I care anyway..."
Zeke dug his fingers into his ears.
"If you keep mumbling, you're outta here."
"On what grounds?! It's not like your name is written on this bridge."
Zeke picked up a stick, intending to write his name on the ground. Suddenly, he realized despite being able to speak, he had no knowledge of the local script—he couldn't read it!
"Pfft!"
The white-haired girl seemed to notice his predicament, covering her mouth with a stifled giggle.
"Give back the bread I gave you."
"Huh? Are you some kind of demon?"
"How can I return it if I've already eaten it? Should I throw it up? Or...you don't mean 'poop' it out, do you?"
"Eww~" The white-haired girl made a disgusted sound, stuck out her tongue, and looked at Zeke as if he were a pervert.
"You fucking... never mind. I'm going to sleep now. In the middle of the night, I'll wake up to add more firewood. If I oversleep, call me if you get cold."
As soon as Zeke lay down, his consciousness began to fade rapidly. This body was truly weak; after consuming nutrients and calories, his biological instincts urged him to quickly rest and regain strength through sleep.
Thus, he swiftly drifted off.
"Asleep already? That fast?" The white-haired girl muttered, surprised, leaning closer to examine Zeke's face.
"He has the same white hair as me."
"But so dirty, almost couldn't tell."
"I wonder if this guy's dad also got lost? Do you think he has a mom?" The white-haired girl mumbled, glancing sidelong at the paper bag containing bread. With a gulp, she couldn't resist extending her trembling hand towards it.
"Hey! Wake up!"
In the dead of night, Zeke was abruptly woken by the white-haired girl, instantly jolted fully awake by a chilling sensation.
"The fire went out?"
Zeke's vision was shrouded in darkness, and he rubbed his temples with a headache, confirming - yes, it had gone out.
Due to the limited visibility in the dark, Zeke didn't notice that a pile of wood branches was haphazardly thrown onto what used to be the burning fire.
It seemed clear that this was the culprit behind extinguishing the flames.
The white-haired girl squatted nearby, still holding a branch in her hand. Oh, correction - the real culprit wasn't the branches but the white-haired girl herself.
"I... just wanted to help add some more wood..." she mumbled sheepishly, quietly setting down the branch in her hand.
With a splitting headache, Zeke paid no attention to the white-haired girl's reaction. Instead, he groped his way towards where he remembered the fire pit to be, gritting his teeth as he said:
"Step back, let me handle it."
"Oh, okay."
However, the night was truly pitch-black.
Despite having good skills, they couldn't compensate for the vision problems caused by years of malnutrition in his young body.
In complete darkness, Zeke ultimately failed to reignite the fire. He crouched beside the ashes, shivering uncontrollably from the cold.
"Hey! Are you okay? You look really uncomfortable," the white-haired girl asked.
"You...you can see clearly?"
"Of course I can! Can't you?"
"I...I'm practically blind right now, can't...can't see anything."
Zeke's trembling intensified, and suddenly, his body slumped sideways.
"Hey!"
The white-haired girl caught him, noticing how frighteningly cold Zeke felt.
"Are you alright? No way, you're not dying, are you?"
"P-p-perhaps..."
"That's it, bread! Yes, yes, you still have bread! Eating something will help; that's what happens when I get sick. Hey, don't fall asleep!"
Perhaps due to accumulated weakness or possibly the strain of venturing out in the storm for food and firewood, Zeke's consciousness slipped away once again, uncontrollably fading.
"Hey! Stay strong, come on!"
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