Culinary God in Wilderness

The snow in the yard was simply too deep. Getting out wasn’t a problem for now, but he wasn’t sure how easy it would be to get back.

To be on the safe side, he decided to postpone his trip to the river and started shoveling the snow in the yard with his Engineer Shovel.

He tossed the thick top layer of snow into the parachute to serve as a backup water source, prioritizing clearing paths in front of and behind the shelter. He left the rest for now.

"Life is so unpredictable. Just two days ago, I was worried about water, and now I have more than I can use."

Gazing at the snow that had quickly piled up like a small mountain in the parachute, Lin Chen wiped the non-existent sweat from his brow. He could feel the blood in his veins starting to hum with energy.

’If it weren’t so cold, my clothes would probably be soaked with sweat already, wouldn’t they?’

He left the shelter and had a hard time getting his bearings, but he headed toward the river, following the route from memory.

The heavy snow had completely blanketed the landscape. Many of the plants he’d previously used as landmarks had changed their appearance, so now he could only navigate by the arrangement of the trees.

The sky was overcast. A few dark clouds drifted by, and shafts of sunlight occasionally broke through the gaps, reflecting off the snow with a dazzling golden brilliance.

The tall spruce trees were laden with layers of snow, and glistening icicles hung from the tips of their branches.

For someone like him, born in the south, this beautiful scene was a breathtaking sight he’d only ever dreamed of seeing.

The winters in Toronto might last for half a year, and heavy snow could pile up to your knees, but it was a city. Every morning around four or five, before the first subways and streetcars started running, the snow-melting and snow-plowing trucks would hit the streets.

The snow-melting trucks carried loads of coarse rock salt, which they sprayed liberally around the streets, turning the snow into water in just an hour or two.

After the first wave of commuters passed through, the icy water on the ground would turn into a black, greasy slush that was not only ugly as sin but also extremely slippery.

The snowplows were even more aggressive. Their angled, curved blades would scrape up dirt, mud, and slush along with the snow, piling it all on the roadside. As a result, there wasn’t a single picturesque snow scene to be found on the entire street.

Perhaps to the locals, all this snow was just a traffic nuisance. But for tourists and foreigners like him, admiring a beautiful snowscape held a special significance.

Only now did he feel a certain obsession, long buried deep in his heart, finally dissipating.

[Admiring the beautiful snowy scenery in the North American wilderness. Happiness +1]

’Am I happy?’

He asked himself.

’I guess it’s just okay. Maybe it’s because this isn’t the first time I’ve seen snow this deep. It’s not that surprising in that respect. It’s just that a natural snowscape, without any human interference, is more beautiful.’

The thick snow made walking extremely difficult. The surface, smooth as a sand dune, gave no clue as to what lay beneath before he stepped on it.

He might step onto an open patch of ground, a dead branch, or even a rock.

He had to be incredibly careful with every step to avoid twisting his ankle on some hidden object.

A journey that should have taken half an hour ended up taking him over an hour just to reach the edge of the forest. The rest of the way was a rocky riverbank, making each step even more treacherous.

Fortunately, his memory was quite good—a skill he’d honed as a chef. Following the directions he remembered, it didn’t take long for him to forge a relatively safe path straight to the river’s edge.

But soon, a new problem presented itself.

That dead tree he’d been using as a support and a landmark... was buried in snow!

Luckily, the surface of the Yukon River hadn’t frozen over much. The gurgling water still rushed along its established course, and more and more King Salmon could be seen beneath the surface, swimming upstream in schools. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

’I remember the spot where I set the gill net was right next to where I dug for clay. The clay accumulated at the bend in the river, which means...’

The snow might cover everything on the surface, but it couldn’t change the original terrain.

By following the shape of the riverbank, he found the gill net he had left for three days.

Icicles had already formed on the surface of the gill net, just like at the tips of the fir needles. Each fishing line was encased in a transparent layer of ice.

He dug through the snow and dragged the log ashore. Caught in the net were seven or eight dead King Salmon, hanging quietly in the mesh.

He didn’t feel it was a pity. He removed them one by one and casually tossed them back into the river.

Having seen vast numbers of Red Salmon dying off, these few were nothing. The real mass die-off was yet to come.

He gently broke the thin layer of ice off the gill net’s surface and threw it back into the water.

This time, he planned to wait nearby and take a few unlucky ones back as soon as they were caught.

While waiting, he didn’t stay idle. His gaze swept the surroundings, and he soon spotted some unusual tracks.

’Spruce grouse?’

Under a seven or eight-meter-tall spruce tree not far from the bank, he saw numerous messy, claw-shaped footprints.

Combined with the fact that the lowermost fir needles had been nibbled on, he was certain it was the handiwork of a spruce grouse.

’It’s been a while since I had chicken. A change of pace would be nice.’

Following the tracks on the ground, he searched the vicinity for a moment and finally spotted a flash of black feathers in a snow-covered thicket.

"A spruce grouse’s black feathers are extremely conspicuous against the pure white winter snow. This makes them a preferred meal for many predators during the winter."

"When they can still find berries and moss, they’ll fly down from their nests to forage on the ground. As the snowfall increases, they’ll stay in the trees and peck at fir needles. At that point, only hunters that can climb trees get to enjoy this delicacy."

As he explained the habits of the spruce grouse to the camera, he had already taken out an arrow and nocked it on his bowstring.

He was no longer casual like before, but aimed with intense concentration.

SWOOSH—

With the faint sound of the arrow hitting its mark, he quickly walked over, grabbed the struggling spruce grouse by its wings, and pulled it out of the thicket.

"With snow this thick, if I had missed... haha, I’d have had to say goodbye to that arrow~"

His sharp combat knife sliced across its throat. The unlucky creature’s body twitched a few times, then gradually fell still.

"I don’t know how many of you watching the show might find the process of killing an animal too cruel, but dying at the hands of a human is actually a pretty good end for them."

He held the spruce grouse upside down, one hand gripping its wings and the other its neck, to let all the blood drain out.

Watching the crimson drops of blood spatter onto the pure white snow, he couldn’t help but sigh.

"Anyone who’s watched documentaries like *Planet Earth* knows that the law of survival in the natural world is far more brutal than this."

"Just think about any prey that gets caught. Aren’t they all torn apart, piece by piece, while still alive? They’re forced to watch as their blood drains out, their organs are ripped out and chewed up, and they die a slow, agonizing death after enduring immense suffering."