WS - Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Ever since entering this wilderness, Yu Nianbing, who had always disliked getting too involved with others, had long been unable to maintain any distance from Song Shiyue. Owe once, it's owing; owe ten times, it's still owing. "Many debts make no worry"—this sentiment, in a different form, actually held true.

It was one thing when it came to matters of survival, like killing snakes, giving support, or dividing meat, though.

How on earth had this person managed to be so attentive, step by step, down to this level?

Yu Nianbing looked down with some confusion at the warm leaf parcel in her hands. The reason Song Shiyue had dallied so long by the fire earlier was now completely obvious.

This life-saving grace—was it never going to end, repaid over and over?

Did it really have to be returned this meticulously...

Not far away, the others had already sat down and started gnawing. Yu Nianbing heard Ning Chuyang calling her over to sit, heard Mu Xingzhou cut her off, and heard Zhuang Jiachuan's quiet explanation.

Then, recalling how Song Shiyue had just now avoided her gaze while holding the other leaf parcel and told her to go eat off to the side, Yu Nianbing couldn't help but shake her head slightly and smile. In Song Shiyue's eyes, was she really that weak?

Fine then, she really didn't dare look.

Yu Nianbing was not someone who postured or forced herself to be tough, and she certainly would not refuse Song Shiyue's kind consideration to the point of making things awkward. So she naturally found a relatively clean-looking stone right there to sit on, took out the unopened wet wipes from her pack to clean her hands, and began to enjoy her lunch.

Mu Xingzhou's pan-frying skill was passable: nothing burnt, nothing undercooked, the heat just right.

Fresh ingredients paired with a simple removal of gaminess and basic seasoning made the frog meat's firm, fresh sweetness even more pronounced. One bite, piping hot, crispy outside, chewy inside, and still carrying some meat juices. Immensely satisfying.

Those who were never afraid of frogs in the first place, of course, ate one bite after another while it was hot, too busy to even make a little small talk. Even Ning Chuyang, who had been somewhat resistant to frog meat at first, loosened up after a taste and was soon eating with great delight.

The frogs prepared by the production team were plump and sturdy; even though they'd been cage-raised for two days, the meat was still full and firm. Especially the legs, the plumpest "garlic-clove meat" on a frog, bursting with juices: a really big mouthful.

The leaf parcel in Yu Nianbing's hands was entirely frog legs. Now, putting a small segment of a leg into her mouth, with a gentle suck, the meat slipped off the bone, leaving the whole clove-like piece on her tongue. Eating this way was like eating skewered meat, as long as she didn't dwell too deeply on the source, her mind had no trouble.

When it comes to food, unless there's a problem with the flavor itself, the difficulty always lies in the first few bites. Once you've downed a few, broken through the hesitation, and begun to taste something good, the rest goes smoothly.

Thus, once the layer of frog legs in the leaf parcel had decreased, Yu Nianbing's evaluation of the contents had already risen from "..." to "somewhat interesting."

Only—while some were already lost in the unique deliciousness of frog meat, others had only just gotten their fire started.

Unlike Zhuang Jiachuan and the others, who just needed to walk a couple of steps into the pond, reach out to pick up a frog, and get only their legs wet with ease, Captain Yang had been thrashing around almost entirely in the center of the pond, half-running, half-swimming after frogs, soaked wicked wet from head to toe.

Although their clothing was made of quick-drying, temperature-regulating material, being so thoroughly wet still took time to dry, which created some obstacles for Captain Yang's fire-starting.

To make things worse, Captain Yang actually had a firestone, which should have been much faster than drilling wood out of thin air.

In the end, while those beside him were already eating frogs, Captain Yang's fire had only just barely caught...

But having been hit with setbacks so often these past two days, regarding the order of fire-starting, Captain Yang, firestone in hand, felt more awkward than truly ashamed. At least he didn't overestimate himself and go picking trouble to establish some authority.

Once he had fire, the speed of his body drying out picked up, and the lunch agenda moved up in priority.

In the cloth bag Zhuang Jiachuan had provided to Captain Yang was now stuffed a handful of little twigs, but only two of those twigs each had a frog skewered on them.

Captain Yang stared silently at the pile of twigs he'd dumped onto the ground. Two frogs, barely visible among them: that was the total haul from this frog-catching session.

Not only that: these two frogs were also all the food Captain Yang had for this entire day.

Heh...

Captain Yang picked up the twigs and the woven scoop net beside the bag—something he'd specially made in advance from wooden sticks and vines—and with both hands exerted force, snapping it with a crack before mercilessly tossing it into the fire, his face thoroughly cold.

This action sent a slight chill through many viewers on StarNet.

But no one knew that as Captain Yang made this motion, his heart was grinding a certain name a hundred times more ruthlessly than his hands.

A name that, for now, he was still powerless against.

However, when Captain Yang began preparing his lunch and came to realize that the only thing he had was the frogs themselves, that ground-down name was quickly swapped for another.

Wild scallions, wild ginger, seasonings...

Captain Yang couldn't help but look toward the windward side, from which the fragrance had been wafting since he'd started his fire.

If they'd followed this show's original script, the expedition leader and the six guest members would have been a single unit, and the leader would distribute anything obtained along the way. Whether it was an even split into seven shares or a distribution based on effort: those were the parts the leader could operate flexibly.

But now...

That shred of dignity Captain Yang still had left made it impossible for him to move his feet and open his mouth to them.

Wasn't it just a bit of seasoning? Bear it a little longer; once he got to the evening camp, he'd just go get his share first and that would be that.

With that thought, Captain Yang crushed the faint, tiny wavering in his heart.

But while the seasoning could wait until evening, his stomach, already gurgling noisily, could not.

He'd walked mountain roads all morning, and catching frogs had sapped a decent amount of energy. Captain Yang knew this noon meal was not one he could skip.

When Captain Yang had headed toward the pond carrying the frogs, several of Song Shiyue's group had been watching.

But they had already finished boiling and cooling the water, and they couldn't be bothered with where Captain Yang cleaned his frogs.

Song Shiyue had considered the matter of scallions, garlic, and seasoning: if Captain Yang came asking, she could spare a seventh of the amount. She wasn't the only one who'd thought of that. Though no one had brought the matter to the table for discussion, they all knew that even if Captain Yang was out of line, his share should still count among these supplies.

Of course, no one was so friendly as to proactively offer something up when Captain Yang hadn't come asking.

Captain Yang had only two frogs on hand; for the sake of preservation, he killed both at once.

One roasted until cooked for lunch, one roasted dry to save for the evening.

Frog meat unwashed of its gaminess and unseasoned had a certain indescribable taste. Captain Yang frowned through the whole one, not even sparing the finer, softer bones but chewing them down. From this, it goes without saying that for the evening's seasonings, he developed a resolution to claim considerably more than one-seventh. And furthermore, regarding the wild garlic he'd deliberately detoured around avoiding the previous day, he now actually felt quite a bit of regret.

While Captain Yang ate that frog with difficulty, Director Zhang, watching the display in midair, expressed complete satisfaction with the captured footage.

On The Wilderness Journey, survival had always been a major attraction.

With a formidable participant like Song Shiyue involved, the show's difficulty had dropped significantly. Although unexpected interesting aspects had appeared, survival—a supposed to be a highly popular draw—had dimmed considerably.

The current situation was rather good. By cutting off Captain Yang's boxed meals, hadn't the survival angle been propped up again?

Especially this footage of eating frog without spitting out the bones: it aligned so well with the angle of wilderness survival hardship and the need to conserve food.

Director Zhang's satisfaction was written all over his face. Even if some on the production team felt this was rather harsh on Captain Yang, it wasn't convenient to step forward and say anything.

Although Captain Yang had been slow to start his fire, he had few frogs to cook. The two sides finished eating at roughly the same time.

Earlier when the fire had gotten going, the three who'd gone into the water—Zhuang Jiachuan's group—had dried their wet pants and legs by the fire until they were about dry. Once the frogs were ready, before coming to eat, they'd taken off their shoes, propped them near the fire on sticks, and used vines and leaves to temporarily wrap their feet for those few steps over. By now, the shoes were dry too.

Conditions were limited, so taking a proper bath after getting into the water was out of the question. Fortunately, the pond water was clean, and just getting dried simply left no discomfort.

On Captain Yang's side, however, his fire had taken a long time to get going, and his body had been severely wet. After one frog went down, his body was only about forty or fifty percent dry.

Luckily, they'd set out early from camp in the morning, with no delays along the way, and Song Shiyue had caught the frogs quickly. With still some time before the scheduled afternoon departure, Captain Yang could continue slowly drying his clothes by the fire.

During lunch, Yu Nianbing hadn't sat with the main group, nor could she very well make a point of going over just to share the frog legs with Song Shiyue; that would have been too big and too deliberate a gesture.

So that whole packet of frog legs all went into Yu Nianbing's stomach.

It had to be said, ignoring all the steps that had come before and judging solely by this one packet of food, it was still pretty good.

Whose good fortune this was owed to, naturally, needed no further mention.

Once the frog meat was finished, Yu Nianbing returned to the group right away, without any trace of that aloof, always-liked-to-be-alone, disliked-extensive-socializing-with-the-crew image that had circulated online before.

As she drew near, Yu Nianbing saw Song Shiyue standing perfectly straight, gazing off into the distance.

Following Song Shiyue's line of sight, she saw the other distant fire.

"What's the matter?" Yu Nianbing looked over and saw only Captain Yang standing by the fire, first warming his front, then warming his side. She didn't see what was worth Song Shiyue's somewhat serious attention.

"Look at that twig he's stuck next to the fire." Song Shiyue answered reflexively, but as the words left her mouth she somewhat regretted it and raised a hand to block Yu Nianbing's view, correcting herself, "Never mind, don't look..."

But that retraction—how could it be faster than Yu Nianbing's shifting gaze?

Yu Nianbing spotted right away a lump of something that seemed a bit black, skewered on a stick near Captain Yang's fire.

"What's that?" Somewhat far away, Yu Nianbing sidestepped to the left to avoid Song Shiyue's blocking hand and rubbed her eyes, trying to see more clearly.

Song Shiyue's heart, which had suddenly lurched, settled back down.

Oh, right—not everyone, like her with her slightly enhanced vision, could make out that somewhat charred frog.

"Don't look anymore. Actually, Captain Yang caught two frogs. It seems he only ate one earlier; that's the other one. I saw him keep roasting the remaining one on the fire over and over; it didn't really look like he was planning to eat it at noon." Song Shiyue knew that if she didn't explain, Yu Nianbing would probably just walk closer to see, so she simply made it clear. She added, "If he's trying to dry this one out so he can take it on the road, then it's probably meant to be eaten tonight..."

"If he's saving it for the evening, that means there might not be any more ingredients arranged by the production team along the afternoon route," Yu Nianbing followed, understanding immediately.

This guess being true was highly likely; after all, the amount of that calf the previous evening, even if not conserved as frugally as they did by making jerky, could probably have left leftovers from one meal. What was left might well have been the dinner originally planned by the program for today.

"It's fine, we still have plenty of food," Song Shiyue said, taking a gentle, deep breath and silently reminding herself again: this was only a livestream show; there was no need to stockpile as if this were the apocalypse, no need to feel anxious just because there was no new intake.

What Song Shiyue said was true. Never mind the pack of jerky each of them had and the box of beef tallow that had barely been touched, the jicama, rice, and flour alone were enough to tide them through an evening meal, completely devoid of worry. It was just... somehow, Yu Nianbing actually detected in this statement, which should have carried a tone of relief, a hint of forced ease.

This was part of Song Shiyue that Yu Nianbing could not understand.

Truthfully, Yu Nianbing was not very good at close-quarters interaction with others; she found it even harder to break through the surface and see the essence.

In the past, she'd never felt it much necessary.

But now...

Looking at the young woman beside her who should have been very relaxed yet seemed weighed down by some burden, Yu Nianbing suddenly had a small thought arise.

If only Song Shiyue could be like those characters in a script, where with a single glance one could see her past, see what kind of environment and life had shaped the person she was now, that would be nice.

Of course, this was only a small thought.

But it was also the first time Yu Nianbing had felt such intense curiosity about another person.

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