Culinary God in Wilderness

In East Asia, the spice powerhouse India is also adept at cooking with it, and it seems to be quite common in Japanese cuisine as well.

A famous Taiwanese dish in Chinese cuisine, Three-Cup Chicken, is an adaptation of a dish by the same name from Jiangxi. Its flavor is somewhat similar to braised chicken with basil leaves, and it’s beloved by foodies for its unique aroma.

It’s also frequently used in the Chaoshan Region to stir-fry with seafood, making it a fragrant herb popular with people all over the world.

He picked a few stalks to bring back to the shelter, leaving the rest to grow so he could pick them as needed.

"Hooo..."

Back at the shelter, he piled all his spoils to one side.

He let out a long breath, rested for about ten minutes, and got himself centered again.

Next up was the main event of the day—and the most crucial step.

Making fire.

Whether or not he could get a fire going would determine his condition for the next few days.

If he failed to make a fire, not only would all of today’s effort be for nothing, but most of the seafood would also slowly die and spoil.

He could always catch more, but his stamina and energy were limited in these early stages. Expending effort without being able to replenish it would only cause his physical condition to deteriorate, jeopardizing his long-term survival.

From the floor of his pit shelter, he found a dry branch about as thick as a baby’s arm. It had to be completely dry—the kind that would SNAP cleanly in two when broken.

He used his military knife to cut a slit into the end of the branch, then struck it a few times with his stone axe to widen it, just deep enough for the entire knife blade to get stuck inside.

He found a short piece of wood and jammed it into the crack to act as a brace against the ground.

He then used the stone axe to carve a shallow notch about a knuckle’s length below the end of the branch. It didn’t need to be very deep.

He spread a layer of dry moss on the ground and positioned the branch with the notch facing down, aimed at the tinder.

"I’m going to try the fire-thong method first. Since I couldn’t find a suitable vine, I have to use twisted Mulberry Tree bark as a substitute. If I can’t get it going within half an hour, or if the bark breaks, I’ll switch to the bow-drill method and try that."

He took a freshly stripped piece of Mulberry Tree bark and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it into a cord. He then threaded it under the branch, seating it snugly in the notch.

He didn’t start right away. First, he took his stone axe and dug a cross-shaped trench in the ground nearby. Then he stacked the firewood he’d collected on top in a log-cabin formation, with thicker pieces on the bottom and thinner ones on top.

"This cross-shaped fire lay works on a similar principle to a Swedish torch. It’s good for relatively damp environments and when you have limited resources."

"The cross-shaped trench in the ground provides a continuous supply of oxygen, ensuring plenty of fuel for the fire. Plus, the structure—thin pieces on top, thick on the bottom—helps the initial ember burn longer."

Once the woodpile was ready, he returned to his spot. He stepped on the far end of the branch with his left foot. Grasping the ends of the bark cord in each hand, he began to gently pull it back and forth.

He first got a feel for the rhythm, then slowly picked up speed. He didn’t need to use much force, just enough to make sure the cord stayed in the notch without slipping off.

As he pulled faster and faster, his hands began to blur into afterimages.

The rapid, high-frequency motion made his forearms and wrists ache in just a minute or two. After three minutes, it felt like they were about to cramp up.

Yet, no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn’t smell the slightest scent of scorching wood.

"Looks like this fresh bark won’t work. It must have too much moisture. The heat from the friction is just turning into steam. I probably need a relatively dry vine for this to be effective."

He pulled the cord out to inspect it. The section that had been creating friction was already visibly frayed and curling up. It wouldn’t last much longer before snapping.

’It seems this material is a bust. It’s only good for making cordage.’

He decisively abandoned the method, ducking into his shelter to find another branch.

First, he split it in half with his stone axe. Then, he chiseled a notch into the edge and used his military knife to carve a small, circular depression at the top of the notch.

Next, he found a fresh, forearm-length branch. He took a strip of birch bark to use as a bowstring, tying it securely to both ends of the branch to create a simple bow.

’This thing probably wouldn’t be much use for hunting, but it was more than enough to work a fire drill.’

He wrapped the bowstring around the dry wooden drill, fit the drill’s tip into the depression on the fireboard, and held a rock against the top of the drill with his left hand as a bearing block. With his left foot pinning down the fireboard, he gripped the bow in his right hand and began sawing it back and forth.

He was already a dab hand at the bow-drill method, but since he was working with different materials, he needed a moment to get a feel for it.

As he sawed the bow back and forth faster and faster, fine wood dust clearly began to form in the depression.

The excess dust spilled out through the notch and onto the tinder below, slowly accumulating into a tiny mound.

A few large beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, nearly running into his eyes.

At a critical moment like this, he couldn’t be bothered. He just gave his head a quick shake, his hand never breaking its high-speed rhythm.

Then, in a single moment, the color of the wood dust changed from its natural wood tone to light gray, then to dark gray, and finally to a deep blackish-brown.

The entire transition took no more than five seconds.

Once the blackish-brown dust appeared, the color spread through the rest of the dust as if by infection, finally reaching the pile that had collected below.

’Success!’

He carefully set the drill assembly aside. He then lifted the tinder bundle with both hands and began to rock it gently back and forth.