Chapter 817 - 22: Homecoming (Part 2)

Chapter 817: Chapter 22: Homecoming (Part 2)

Chen Zhou saw that the snow near the entrance of the cave had all been cleared away, especially the area closest to the snow-blocking canopy, where clear marks from branches were left on the ground.

The wind blew all day long; in no time, shallows and grooves on the ground would get covered up by snow blown in. If the marks were still visible, it meant that someone inside had recently been working outside.

Apart from the relatively clean ground, even the chimney extending from the snow-blocking canopy had been cleaned.

Warm smoke, blowing from inside to outside, melts the snow. Once melted, the snow on the chimney trickles down and freezes. Over time, it forms huge chunks of ice, not just easy to trip over, but also blocking the chimney, preventing the smoke from escaping.

In northern winters, some poorly designed chimneys need to be cleaned every few days to remove the so-called "smoke grease" hanging beneath, much like these ice chunks—though not as bad—because the mountain cave’s chimney comes up at an angle from below, making drainage even harder.

Now, there was only a thin layer of ice left on the exposed chimney mouth, covered in cracks—a clear sign someone had smashed it.

With just a glance, Chen Zhou knew his home was well taken care of, lifting his mood even more.

It proved that his two companions were dependable—neither was lazy.

...

Just as he reached the entrance of the snow-blocking canopy, before he even stepped in, Chen Zhou heard a low, guttural roar.

Right after, Tiger Second was the first to burst out of the cave.

After more than a week apart, it wasn’t so familiar with Chen Zhou’s scent or appearance anymore. It leaped up the steps, and faced with this "unexpected visitor," bared its sharp teeth without mercy.

If not for Chen Zhou’s sheer size—obviously no pushover—and the uncertainty about his intentions, Tiger Second would have pounced already.

"Hey, you don’t recognize me anymore?"

Seeing Tiger Second’s stance, Chen Zhou hurriedly spoke up to remind it—

After surviving so much outside without a scratch, getting bitten by his own saw-toothed tiger at home would be the ultimate joke.

He tried to use his familiar voice to jog Tiger Second’s memory; didn’t expect the dumb beast wouldn’t get it. Not only did it not remember, it thought Chen Zhou was provoking it, and immediately, without hesitation, lunged at him.

But quickly enough, reckless Tiger Second paid the price.

Still not fully grown, it was nowhere near Chen Zhou’s match. The moment it charged, Chen Zhou grabbed it by the scruff and forced it to the ground.

Once up close, catching Chen Zhou’s familiar scent, Tiger Second finally realized this was the leader of its pack and quickly lowered itself, begging for mercy.

But a tiger is still a tiger, thick-throated and deep-voiced—its plea sounded nothing like a cat’s soft mewl. It was more like a cow’s low moo, deep and rumbling.

Not long after Tiger Second’s inexplicable outburst, Bi Kai—wearing furs and holding a hand axe—opened the main cave door and poked his head out.

Seeing it was Chen Zhou, his beard-covered face lit up with joy. He bounded up the steps, running enthusiastically over.

As he ran, he called out to Paul in Russian.

Hearing Bi Kai’s awkward tongue clicks and Paul’s heavy, quick footsteps inside the cave, Chen Zhou felt genuine happiness.

After so many setbacks and hardships, they were finally reunited, and compared to past ordeals, they could now glimpse the dawn of victory.

...

Back inside the cave, the welcoming Paul and Bi Kai didn’t ask whether Chen Zhou had managed to bring back supplies.

To them, whether he brought supplies mattered less. What mattered was that Chen Zhou was back.

The backbone they deemed almost "capable of anything" had returned, and now their hearts could settle.

As long as Chen Zhou was here, they believed that even without supplies, they could be the last ones standing. It wasn’t blind worship, but the courage and faith that Chen Zhou’s actions over time had instilled in them.

Bi Kai, quick on his feet, helped Chen Zhou carry things off his cart and into the cave one by one.

As for Paul, who’d been left with a lingering injury from his leg, he fetched firewood from a crevice and stoked the stove fire higher—

Chen Zhou had trekked dozens of kilometers through the snow and ice to come home, so he must be freezing; the house needed to be extra warm.

Even the three saw-toothed tigers were rarely not lounging at the door enjoying cold air seeping in—they circled Chen Zhou like curious kids, their big eyes filled with confusion, as if asking him why he’d gone hunting so long only to bring back a pile of inedible black rocks.

Sitting on the heated kang, Chen Zhou set aside the red box containing two mysterious injections and the contract. He forced himself to stay awake and asked Paul and Bi Kai about the situation at home.

...

What reassured Chen Zhou was that shortly after he left, the weather cleared up, and with Bi Kai leading Paul outside, Paul’s mental issues eased.

In the days after, the two—despite not sharing a language—used gestures to work outside: gathering firewood, or searching for herbs buried under snow. They managed to cooperate fairly well.

Paul’s claustrophobia hadn’t ever been severe, and after going outside, he quickly recovered.

But his grand brewing venture ended here; no matter how much Slavs loved their drink, they couldn’t brew strong alcohol with odd ingredients in unsuitable temperatures.

After one episode of mental fog, Paul understood: he wouldn’t be tasting booze here again.

If he wanted to drink, he’d have to keep working hard until he got back to the Soviet Union, then he could drink as much as he pleased.

Paul let go of his fixation, and Bi Kai went out hunting—looking for deer.

Of course, both their ventures ended in disappointment.

Paul’s brewing was hopeless, and while Bi Kai found deer, by the time he did, they were all dead.

The whole herd, surrounded by a blizzard, had stopped some two kilometers from the forest gathering spot; eventually, they were wiped out, frozen to death.

Once his hunch was confirmed, Bi Kai didn’t idle. With good weather, he teamed up with Paul—using hand axes and knives—to break down the frozen deer bit by bit and haul it up the mountain.

Deer meat without proper bleeding is rank and unpleasant to humans, but exactly what saw-toothed tigers crave.

With the whole deer herd, the three-headed saw-toothed tigers were living the good life, feasting on fresh bloody meat daily—even if it was a bit cold and tough.

Unfortunately, because the deer herd was so large and the weather changed fast, the two—busy caring for the home, chopping wood, and tending fires—had little time to butcher and transport the meat.

By the time Chen Zhou returned, more than half of the deer carcasses were still frozen in the forest. Unless another stretch of good weather came, they’d likely stay there until the challenge ended.

...

With Paul and Bi Kai both safe and sound, Chen Zhou pushed aside the saw-toothed tiger that insisted on snuggling with him, lay on the warm kang, and slept hard for a whole day.

When he woke up, it was already the afternoon of the next day.

Just after sitting up on the kang, Chen Zhou heard the wind howling outside the cave.

Cold air kept pouring in through the cave entrance.

Paul and Bi Kai sat by the stove; the lamp on the dining table flickered wildly in the wind, and even the usually cozy cave felt a few chills.

He got dressed and walked to the cave entrance for a look.

Everything was just as he expected.

After "the last gentleness," it was time for the Space-Time Administration Bureau to tear off its mask and show its cruel face.

The temperature kept dropping; now it was about minus forty-seven or forty-eight degrees outside, with the wind raging all day long.

Though there was no snowfall, this chill was worse than a blizzard. Not just humans—even saw-toothed tigers preferred not to go out, all shrunk into the cave.

"Looks like we’ve entered the final stage of the challenge.

I wonder how much supplies the other surviving challengers prepared, what kind of shelters they chose.

Now, let’s see who can hold out the longest..."

Chen Zhou didn’t say a word, staring at the world of whirling snowflakes, quietly pondering.

After a moment, he went back to the cave, glanced at the red box on the kang—still untouched—and felt a flush of unease.

He wondered, if it really came down to the bitter end, would he risk signing a contract selling himself and inject those two mysterious syringes?

And what those two injections really did, what kind of generosity the so-called "Boundary Court" would show—these were answers he didn’t want to know.