Nature is sometimes so amazing; you never know what kind of scene will appear before your eyes next.

One second ago, I was facing a stream that was only about two meters wide. Now, the river in front of me, whose source I don't know, has suddenly become more than fifteen meters wide.

This kind of terrain doesn't make me happy. The wider the body of water, the more complex and diverse the animal life will be.

God knows what lurks in these unseen waters; I wouldn't be surprised if a few crocodiles jumped out right now.

Because I'm not familiar with this area, and the water has become deeper, I really can't say what might be hidden there.

However, there is one thing I can be certain of for now. After walking for so long, I haven't seen a single person besides myself. There are none of the usual mountain structures like power grids or cell towers; it's as if this place is completely isolated from the civilized world.

I don't plan to explore this little river for the time being, because I have enough fish to eat for two days.

Continuing north along the river, I felt like I had taken a long detour. The river wasn't straight; instead, it meandered like a long snake, winding its way up the steep mountains, flowing from north to south along the route I had taken.

I didn't want to explore the river, but that didn't stop it from displaying its beautiful form before my eyes.

The water in this little river is a clear, emerald green, and in some places you can see the pebbles and fish swimming at the bottom.

More willows have appeared on both banks of the river. As far as the eye can see, many egrets, herons, and kingfishers have built dense nests on the willows.

One thing that struck me as odd was that these waterbirds weren't afraid of me at all when they saw me, as if they were seeing a creature like me for the first time.

These are all things that happened later. I later learned why they weren't afraid of me, and it's a bit sad to think about it now.

Beneath the willows along the riverbank was a creeping plant that stretched all the way to the water's surface. The leaves of this plant resembled goose feet and were covered in downy hairs. In addition to the downy hairs, the creeping stems on the ground also had small, barbed thorns. At this moment, the plant's leaves were covered with wild fruits the size of mulberries, but much redder than mulberries.

I know this is a wild fruit that we call "pao" in our area. This thorny fruit that likes to grow near water should be the medicinal "longquan pao".

This stuff tastes pretty good; I just gathered some from the roadside where I could manage. As for the central areas, I don't think it's worth the risk.

Because the fruit of this plant is sweet, its seeds can be dispersed by mice, birds, or other small animals. Therefore, the natural enemies of these small animals may be lurking among them, such as the most common venomous snakes, which are the majority of their natural enemies.

I don't want to get bitten by a poisonous snake just for eating a couple of wild fruits. If I were to go and collect them, I'd go and take the bird eggs from the nests in the willow trees; the nutrition from just one bird egg is equivalent to that of many wild fruits.

During this time, I was pleasantly surprised to find white-faced moorhens and wild ducks roaming the water's edge. The taste of these waterfowl is simply divine.

Even though I wasn't really interested in hunting, I couldn't resist the urge to shoot a few. But when I thought these waterbirds weren't afraid of me and that I could easily take them down with a stick...

I realized I had underestimated the intelligence of living beings. Just because they weren't afraid of me didn't mean they weren't afraid of death. As I watched them stand there, dumbfounded, staring at me, and then I raised my stick and started hitting them.

The moment the stick was raised, they sensed their lives were threatened and flew away in a flurry.

After that, I tried a few more times, and having learned from the previous experiences, the birds in the vicinity seemed to have become more wary of me. Before I could get too close, they would either trot away to create distance between me or take off and keep a great distance away.

I regretted not using the stick earlier. If I had used stones instead, I could have thrown a bunch at random and maybe hit a few unlucky birds, since there are quite a few water birds here.

But I'm not worried. I have plenty of ways to deal with these silly birds if I want to. We still have food, and I don't want to waste my energy on them. Getting on with the journey is the priority.

A day can easily pass by along this little river, and the scenery remains largely the same throughout the day. Countless waterbirds roam here, and even relatively rare species like the white-faced moorhen swim in large flocks; they are by no means rare.

As dusk approached, we needed to find a place to stay for the night. There were tall trees here, but it was quite far from the river, requiring us to venture deeper into the primeval forest.

Looking at the dense, impenetrable primeval forest, I felt an instinctive sense of dread. The leopard that attacked me earlier was still on my back; who knows how many other unknown wild beasts roamed within.

I'd much rather find a place with sparser vegetation and a wider view than that primeval forest.

This time, however, I couldn't get too close to the river, for one simple reason. I was afraid the river would rise at night and cut off my escape route; sometimes, unknown waters are more dangerous than land.

Because that place is not human territory, but the domain of cold-blooded animals, amphibians, and fish. They have an absolute advantage in the water, but that is an absolute disadvantage for me.

I don't know if it's due to the tree species or the abundance of water, but the trees growing nearby are generally not very tall, and even the few that are tall are quite slender.

It's not that you can't sleep on such a slender tree, but if it's too thin, there aren't many large branches, making it quite troublesome to make a bed.

If we can find a cave, that would be ideal. We just need to guard the entrance with torches, and no matter what kind of wild beasts are outside, they won't be able to get in.

But the soil near this river is all sandy, so finding a solid cave is like finding a needle in a haystack. Looks like I'll have to use the old method to sleep tonight.

I found a steep embankment, more than ten meters above the riverbank, with a relatively flat area on the other side. The trees there were pitifully small, only slightly larger than the steel pipes used to build the scaffold.

Fortunately, these trees are growing together and are quite tall, probably around ten meters. It wouldn't be impossible to build temporary shelters between them if we spent some time doing so.

At least one thing I'm sure of is that even if a beast like a leopard came, this tree could only stare helplessly at it, as its size had exceeded its suitable range.