Staring at the shattered debris scattered on the floor, I froze, momentarily speechless. Though the Shen had never been of much use to me, it was a gift bestowed personally by Great Immortal Fengli, making it inherently significant.

Even taking a step back, assuming it offered little help to my investigation, the creature was still exceedingly rare, making its destruction truly heartbreaking. Even though it was broken beyond any hope of repair, I held onto a slim chance and went over, carefully picking up the fragments one by one, placing them in my palm.

Unexpectedly, at that moment, the fragments began to writhe, gradually reassembling themselves into a single, black shell. Seeing the Shen restored to its original state, I understood that the creature had protected itself using an illusion.

It had only dropped the illusion once I returned and it sensed safety. It seemed my prolonged feeding hadn't been in vain; it now regarded me as its master and held no defenses against me.

While seeing the Shen whole again somewhat eased my mood, I was still seething with suppressed rage. To have things go wrong right as I was about to secure a decent job—now all I could do was flee.

I found another plastic water bottle and carefully tucked the Shen inside before placing it in my pocket. I surveyed the room; there was nothing else worth taking.

With that, I hurried downstairs. I located the hotel receptionist and announced I was checking out.

I had paid two hundred for two nights, so I was due a forty-dollar refund. However, the attendant sneered, "You expect me to give you money back?

I should be charging you more! Boss Tong ransacked your room today, smashing the television and wardrobe.

I'll just have to keep this suit of yours as compensation. Forget about your deposit, get out of here, you walking bad luck charm!" "So you were the one who took the suit!

Who gave you the authority to randomly touch other people's property?" I grabbed the attendant by his collar, raising my fist to strike. The attendant stammered nervously, "You!

What are you doing? Don't think I won't call for help." My fist hung in the air for three seconds.

I glared at the attendant through gritted teeth, but ultimately, I didn't strike. After all, I had caused damage to their establishment; compensation was justified, so I had no right to hit him.

Releasing his collar, I walked away without a word, my fist still clenched. Stepping out onto the street, I glanced left and right.

Seeing no immediate trouble, I quickened my pace toward the main road. Walking in the direction opposite the construction site, after about half an hour, I was already far from the previous settlement area.

I checked my phone—it was already three in the afternoon, and I hadn't had lunch. My stomach growled loudly with hunger.

I had no choice. Seeing a steel well cover outside a family courtyard by the roadside, I went up and cupped some water into my hands to drink.

Unexpectedly, the cold water only made my stomach rumble more fiercely. I had to sit by the roadside for a while.

The road I was facing wasn't a highway, but the cars traveling on it moved fast, so iron railings had been erected on both sides. If I continued forward along the road, the railings would block me, and I didn't know how far I’d have to walk to leave the highway for somewhere else.

Watching the rapidly passing vehicles kick up clouds of dust, I decided to abandon the road and slip onto the country lanes instead. In truth, I had another motive for this decision: if I saw any fields planted with radishes, sweet potatoes, or similar crops, I could steal some to stave off hunger.

Sure enough, after resting sufficiently and taking a narrow country path, I discovered vast fields planted with potatoes. I thought to myself, thank heavens I can recognize crop types just by looking at the leaves; otherwise, I’d have starved to death already.

Could this count as one of my wilderness survival skills? Glancing around to ensure no one was nearby, I was overjoyed.

I grabbed the two nearest potato vines and yanked upward, pulling up a whole cluster of potatoes. These potatoes were large and round, about seven or eight in total.

Fearing discovery, I gleefully harvested them all and stuffed them into my sweatpants pocket. The athletic pants pockets were huge, so they all fit inside, making a conspicuously bulging package.

Grandma [referring to himself, perhaps an internal habit] surveyed the surrounding terrain and spotted a small copse of cypress trees not far from the end of the field. My stomach was aching with hunger, so I hurried toward the woods.

Inside the grove, I found a few scattered gravestones and some earthen mounds—it was a graveyard. In broad daylight, I felt no fear; even at night, there was little to dread, as I had encountered far more terrifying things than a few burial mounds.

Since it was a graveyard, it was unlikely anyone would visit during the day. So, I gathered dry leaves and small twigs nearby and started a small fire in a clearing.

After the fire had burned for a while, I dumped all the leaves I had collected onto it. This action suppressed the flames, causing thick smoke to billow upwards.

Under these conditions, the fire wouldn't completely go out; embers would slowly spread underneath, maintaining intense heat. Next, I pulled out all the stolen potatoes and tossed them beneath the burning pile, burying them completely.

This was a technique I learned from Grandpa when I was a child; potatoes roasted this way come out charred on the outside but tender, sweet, and delicious on the inside. Watching the potatoes settle into the embers, I sat down nearby to rest.

Twenty minutes later, the smoke from the fire began to thin, and the potatoes were almost cooked. I used a sturdy stick to dig into the fire pit and pull out the blackened potatoes.

I rolled one on the ground to reduce the heat, then rolled it between my hands to cool it quickly. Then, I broke the potato open down the middle.

Indeed, the outside was scorched black, but the inside was as tender and white as glutinous rice. An irresistible aroma instantly wafted out.

Ignoring how hot it was, I immediately shoved a piece into my mouth. But the instant it touched my tongue, it was so scalding that I couldn't swallow it, rolling it around in my mouth for a good while before finally gulping it down.

After eating one, I wiped my mouth with satisfaction and reached for the second. I finished all eight potatoes this way, feeling my stomach swell.

Wiping my mouth, I thought that even if Boss Tong’s thugs rushed over right now, they wouldn't be a match for me. I quickly tidied up the potato skins and the fire pit, stretched my limbs, and prepared to move on.

This time, I intended to find a place to spend the night. Since it was already five in the evening, and no densely populated areas had appeared ahead, I couldn't find work and absolutely needed shelter for the night.

Walking along the country path, I soon encountered a large river ahead. The river was about ten meters wide, its banks lined with lush green fields, with scattered villages visible only in the distance.

The river water was dark and flowing rapidly. The temperature was only in the low teens; I certainly didn't want to swim across.

But looking left and right, there were no bridges. There was only a dirt track running alongside the river, occasionally used by cyclists or farmers carrying hoes.

Every person who passed me scrutinized me up and down. I didn't understand why they were all staring until a motorcycle slowly passed by.

I caught my reflection in its rearview mirror and saw that my face, stained from eating the potatoes, looked like one of the painted faces in an opera. Furthermore, my clothes were filthy, making me resemble a beggar.

Smiling helplessly, I continued along the path by the riverbank and soon found rough steps leading down to the water’s edge. Descending the steps, I cupped the river water and washed my face, then continued walking along the bank, hoping to find a bridge.

Along the way, I asked two people, and they informed me the bridge was still seven or eight li further ahead. Given my appearance, they were reluctant to speak more than necessary, so there was no chance of getting a ride.

I could only keep walking forward slowly, hoping to reach the bridge before dark. Truthfully, I wasn't sure what I intended to do on the other side of the river; I simply had a habit of thinking one must cross if a river appears.

Gradually, dusk settled in. The potatoes from the afternoon kept my hunger at bay, but it was late autumn, and the temperature outside dropped sharply, even beginning to freeze into night frost.

Soon, the sky was completely dark, and the pedestrians dwindled, or rather, vanished almost entirely. Only one or two distant village houses showed lights, faint as sparks in the sky.

My body was stiff with cold, my hands and feet deathly pale; I could only stamp my feet continuously for warmth. Fortunately, just then, I spotted a small water-sluice control house situated in the middle of the river, not far ahead.

A sluice house is where the river gates are controlled for agricultural irrigation. Such buildings are usually uninhabited but typically locked.

I hurried to the structure and checked; as expected, the door was bolted and nearly rusted shut. However, all the glass in the windows had been shattered, likely by mischievous children.

A wave of joy washed over me. I climbed in through a broken window.

Illuminating the interior with my phone, I saw only some water-gate control instruments occupying one-third of the room; the remaining two-thirds offered plenty of space even if I lay down. While sleeping inside wouldn't be much warmer than sleeping outside, it offered shelter from wind and rain—a hundred times better than being exposed.

Although I currently looked somewhat like a vagrant, having grown accustomed to sleeping outdoors, I felt content. At least now I didn't have to worry about the threat of Zongzi or monsters; all I needed was a small fire to sleep well.

With that thought, I placed the Shen from my pocket on the floor, climbed back out the window, and gathered some firewood. After starting the fire, with nothing to do and my phone dead, I decided to sleep.

I curled up in a corner of the room, and under the warm glow of the fire, I soon drifted off. I don't know how long I slept, but I suddenly awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright, as if hearing the rustling of footsteps outside in my dream.

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