Day Fifty-Five: Exquisite Delicacies (Part One) An extra chapter dedicated to Yunqi Youran.

The sky remained clear and bright! Taking advantage of the fine weather, I carried out all the flour, rice, cornmeal, and other provisions from the treehouse, arranging them neatly on the table I had crafted myself. Though the past few days of continuous wind and rain hadn’t soaked my stores directly, the humid air had still taken its toll. I noticed clumps forming in the flour, which troubled me deeply—these supplies were irreplaceable, my only reserves, and it was imperative to preserve them well.

With a full day of sun, they should regain their dryness. Once I’d finished airing out the grains, I hung up the cured meats, smoked fish, and smoked pork on the drying racks strung between the great trees. The smoked fish, in particular, were on the verge of spoiling; their skins already felt damp to the touch. Though there was no trace of an off smell, I knew if they weren’t thoroughly dried, they would soon rot and go to waste. These were hard-earned provisions—I couldn’t stand by and watch them spoil. A thorough sunbathing under the blazing sun should resolve the issue.

Now, Little Black and I were preparing to set out. Our destination was the coastal woods—yes, that very place! I planned to set the fishing net in the morning, so that I could harvest it at dawn the next day. There were still many things left at the shore from last time, such as those shellfish resembling conchs, and many other unknown creatures that, to my mind, were all edible.

Today, I intended to gather more food, including bird eggs, which we’d already finished eating and needed to replenish. This time, I didn’t forget the plastic basket, though truth be told, it wasn’t ideal for carrying things. It was cumbersome and inconvenient. I had some ideas in mind but no time to try them out just yet; I planned to experiment during the next rainy spell—perhaps weaving baskets or carrying frames from vines.

That thought was rather ambitious, as I’d never woven anything before. I didn’t know the steps, the methods, or the materials needed… Still, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. For now, I tied two lengths of vine to the plastic basket, fashioning them into makeshift backpack straps, slung the basket over my back, and took up the small wooden spear I’d made at the shore. With everything in hand, we set off toward the coastal woods.

Lost in thought, we soon arrived. The sea, which had swelled yesterday, had almost entirely receded. Nature’s resilience was astonishing—the storm from the day before yesterday had left no trace here. The birds still foraged busily, tending their young, schools of fish swam leisurely near the shore, and there were no broken or fallen trees in the woods. Only the great trees I’d seen rising from the water before were now submerged.

The seawater was as clear as ever. I surveyed my surroundings; no threats loomed on land. Little Black didn’t wander off this time, but waited on the shore, watching me. Once the threat on land was dismissed, I turned my attention to the water—yes, sharks! Though these were nothing like the massive great whites from the movies, in my mind, all sharks were terrifying, no matter how small.

Thankfully, I saw no sign of any sharks, so I waded in, armed with my wooden spear in one hand and the fishing net in the other, heading toward the base of the great tree where I intended to set the net.

As I bent down to arrange the net, out of the corner of my eye I caught a dark fin slicing through the water not far away. Startled, I straightened up and looked toward it—but saw nothing.

“I’m just too nervous…” I thought to myself.

Then, I noticed the small fish around me suddenly scatter in all directions.

“Danger!” Instantly, I raised my wooden spear and scanned the water.

“There!” I saw it—a shark, lemon-yellow in color! I’d seen this kind before, fiercely chasing and devouring schools of small fish. Now it was barely a meter away, about to dart straight at me. I had no intention, nor the courage, to take any risks, but since it was coming for me, evasion was no longer an option. I had only one choice—fight!

I raised my wooden spear high.

“Come on!” I roared inwardly.

The water here was shallow, less than half a meter deep. The shark seemed agitated, perhaps drawn by the bleeding bite on my foot. Whatever the reason, it was certainly excited. I waited for the perfect moment.

“Now!” I shouted silently, plunging the spear at the shark’s exposed dorsal fin. Its slippery skin deflected my dull spear, and I missed my mark.

Though I hadn’t struck as intended, the attack had its effect—the shark was startled. With a flick of its tail, it spun around and darted away in another direction.

“What a cowardly shark!” I muttered with a sigh of relief.

I quickly finished setting the net, anchoring it with stones as before to keep it from being swept away by the tides. I thought of a better solution too—next time, I’d tie the net to the submerged tree trunks with vines, which would be even more secure.

With everything done, I started back to shore, still on high alert. My vigilance proved justified.

Sure enough, I had already spotted it—it was lying in wait by the roots of a tree just three meters to my left. I couldn’t tell if it was preparing to ambush me or simply hiding from me, but I suspected the former.

Prepared, I felt less fear—just a bit of tension. After all, it was only a juvenile shark, about a meter long, maybe ninety centimeters at most. Its size made it less intimidating.

If it had been three meters long, I doubt I’d have dared enter the water at all.

I moved closer. It remained motionless.

One meter away, and still it lay there like a rotting log, only its mouth protruding from behind the roots.

Three steps away—it didn’t budge.

Two steps—was I wrong? Was it really hiding from me?

One step.

It moved…