Chapter 244: Chapter 241 Still Can Sleep a Bit Longer
Bi Fang stood on the raft, looked around, and found that all the containers he had were already in use, leaving no extra to spare.
In the end, he chose to cut another piece of tent fabric and took out the plastic bottle from the water purification device, drank the fresh water inside, then covered the mouth of the bottle with the tent fabric, pushing it in with his finger to adhere to the inner wall, finally securing it with rope.
Having done all this, Bi Fang pulled on the fishing line and dragged the Hairfin Anchovy back out; the fishhook scraped the seagull’s trachea, bringing out a few traces of blood.
Many female viewers couldn’t help but close their eyes at this scene, feeling a bit uncomfortable.
[It’s too pitiful to die of gluttony.]
[What is Old Fang doing with a cup?]
[Is he draining blood?]
“Yes, I need to use a container to catch the blood. On one hand, it might be useful in the future, and on the other hand, if we put blood directly into the sea, it might attract so dangerous creatures. Although I have a raft, it’s still better to avoid so dangerous situations as much as possible,” Bi Fang explained.
Bi Fang took out his obsidian dagger and aid it at the seagull’s neck, stabbing in; bright red blood imdiately flowed down the blade and started to drip into the bottle through the fabric when it reached a certain point.
Watching the blood flow into the bottle and begin to fill the tent fabric, Bi Fang nodded, confirming that the obsidian dagger was indeed sharp and very effective to use.
Bi Fang raised a forefinger of his knife-holding right hand and, pointing to the blood flowing down the blade, asked, “Are there any friends who grew up in the countryside who have seen butchers slaughtering pigs?”
“When bleeding like this, it’s best to use a sharp weapon to stab in and block the wound. This way, the blood will flow down along our knife. If we choose to cut open, the blood will spatter from the artery, making it impossible to collect effectively.
This is also true for slaughtering pigs. Pig blood is a delicacy, and too much spattering is a waste. Moreover, stabbing directly into the neck with a sharp knife can also kill the prey as quickly as possible, preventing it from suffering too long. So a good butcher’s ‘clean cut’ is all about efficiency.”
Previously, slaughtering pigs during festivals was an important tradition, but such activities are becoming increasingly rare. Only a few viewers who spent their childhood in the countryside still have so impression, and now, comparing it with what Bi Fang ntioned, they suddenly rembered and couldn’t help nodding.
[Weird knowledge has increased]
[Damn, this is the first ti I’ve heard this explanation. I always thought it was just to reduce the pain for the pigs.]
[Add one, I saw pig slaughtering when I was a kid, but this is the first ti I knew there was this much attention to detail, learned sothing new.]
[Looking at Master Fang, he must be an experienced butcher, this technique is so smooth, I wouldn’t believe he hasn’t slaughtered a hundred pigs.]
[Slaughter? Are you leveling up your proficiency here?]
[Just look at Old Fang, he’s a pro, definitely leveled up by slaughtering plenty of pigs.]
The blood trickled steadily, and once enough had drained, Bi Fang wiped his blade on the tent fabric, then tightened it over the bottle’s mouth, lifting out the now blood-filled bag that resembled a water-filled balloon.
Thus, the blood was collected without wasting the bottle, which was then placed back into the container so the water purification device could be reused.
However, without hot water, plucking the feathers was sowhat strenuous. It took Bi Fang quite a while to strip all the feathers from the seagull, which he then put on the charcoal fire to roast.
Seagulls are tricky to dry, better to eat them fresh for dinner. Bi Fang, having never eaten seagull before, was sowhat looking forward to it. However, he was greatly disappointed after it was roasted, wondering if he lacked cooking talent, or if the ingredient itself was subpar.
It was fishy and tough, chewing felt like eating tree bark.
But having roasted it, Bi Fang didn’t want to waste the charcoal; after all, it was a al, so he forced himself to eat it all. When he spat out the last bone, he felt a wave of relief.
“To be honest, seagull doesn’t taste good at all, it’s fishy and tough. I recomnd that everyone avoid trying it unless you’re forced to drift at sea like . Plus, seagulls eat just about anything and live near the sea, their bodies might accumulate a lot of heavy tals or even bacteria, so if you must eat it, make sure it’s well-roasted.”
[Hahaha, this is the first ti I’ve heard Old Fang say sothing tastes bad.]
[Kind of interesting]
[I rember eating them when I was a kid, but they weren’t very tasty, the at was tough and very fishy]
[Now it seems we can’t eat them, this thing is considered San You in our country, exceeding a certain number ans a fine. It’s only abroad where the numbers are overwhelming and you can take as you please, probably because they are too distasteful.]
After eating the seagull, the ti had co to evening, and Bi Fang, watching the setting sun gradually sink, reconfird his direction before stowing the sails, and the audience understood that Bi Fang was about to end the stream.
In the past two days, Bi Fang had done just that, taking in the sails to avoid sudden gusts of wind from different directions at night, causing the raft to drift too far.
“However, the arrival of the seagull is also good news for . Even if the seagull gets blown off course by the wind, it won’t be too extre, suddenly being blown to the center of the ocean. This ans we are indeed getting closer to land, perhaps a hundred kiloters, or maybe two hundred. But I believe there is a very high probability that I will find land before the 21 days are up.”
Bi Fang stood at the prow stretching his body facing the sunset, seen from the back as if embracing the sun, his body aglow with golden light.
The ocean current’s speed was roughly ten kiloters per day, but now Bi Fang had a sail, and with the force of the wind, he could travel at least twenty kiloters a day, even thirty kiloters was not impossible.
And judging by the appearance of the seagull and the color of the seawater, as long as the direction was correct, finding land was a certainty.
At the thought, Bi Fang felt quite excited inside. Even if the ocean scenery was beautiful, after a while, it always beca monotonous.
And moreover…
Bi Fang stretched out his palm, for due to long hours in the sunlight, he had beco much darker than when he first arrived at sea, and no one would find it strange to call him a ‘sea folk’…
“Alright, that’s it for today’s livestream, we’ll et again tomorrow.”
Bi Fang withdrew his hand, took down the sail that had been propped up, turning it back into a tent, and after bidding farewell to his audience, he returned to the life raft to sleep. Lying inside the raft, the well-fed and well-drunk Bi Fang quickly began to feel drowsy.
With the support of the wooden raft, the stability of the entire raft was greatly increased, no longer tossing about as before, but rather due to the inflation it beca soft and comfortable, and he soon entered dreams.
Waves rose with the wind.
When Bi Fang opened his eyes again, he noticed the temperature seed to be much lower, completely different from the feeling upon waking up the previous days.
The change in weather furrowed his brow.
Was it going to rain again?
Bi Fang lifted the tent flap, the cold crept in, as the sleep-muddled mind seed to be poured upon with a basin of cold water, clearing instantly.
He stared at the sea with wide nervous eyes, noticing it was just cold, so cold it made one want to turn back under the tent to wrap up in the sailcloth and continue sleeping. There was no wind around, and yet the sky was starting to darken.
The audience, notified of the stream starting, rushed in, and seeing this scene, they imdiately beca anxious, vividly recalling the storm of the past few days.
[What’s happening? Is it going to rain again?]
[Woken up this morning to bad news]
[Is it a second round?]
[Damn it, a second round]
Bi Fang looked seriously for a mont, then his gaze relaxed again, mixed with a hint of joy.
“It’s okay, it’s not a storm, just a light rain, I can sleep a bit more.”
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