Chapter 693: Chapter 690: Building a Wooden Cabin
The musk ox is a transitional species between cattle and sheep, and its at surprisingly combines similar flavors of both, making it a rare culinary adventure in Bi Fang’s life experience.
It just lacked so seasoning, and the taste was a bit bland, but it was not bad. After all, it was hotpot-style at, seeking the original, fresh taste.
An Arctic journey, not in vain at all.
Bi Fang let out a satisfied belch, leaning against the snow slope, watching the polar ice plain under the night sky.
Almost twenty days had passed since the hundred-day survival task began. With the musk oxen and the environnt being favorable, the pressure of survival in the vast Arctic Plain had lessened by more than half, making everything seem more pleasurable.
The sky was speckled with twinkling stars, scattering starlight that, blended with the mist emanating from the vast white land, turned into a hazy pale purple that spanned across the sky.
...
This kind of nightscape was not to be seen anywhere else.
Now is the era of camping,
Bi Fang thought.
People are tired of the concrete jungle, the nine to nine, six days a week grind. They want to leave behind the clamor between people to interact with insects and other animals.
More and more people aim to cultivate such a culture of camping. Although not everyone wants to be as stripped down and in complete zero-distance contact with nature as himself, even if separated by so modern technology, the aspiration is undoubtedly there. However, they often have to reconsider because of the thickness of their wallets.
Ordinary people’s lifetis have too many demands, often lacking the power and ability to choose the life they want.
Even if one really goes through hardships, scrimping on food and clothes, clutching one’s teeth tightly to carve out a little ti, a pile of money, all the energy, the lack of experience could lead to a total ss—from living to eating to using the bathroom—the first ti is often chaotic.
[I’ve tried camping, but it wasn’t as fun as I imagined. It’s not nature’s fault, it’s my own]
A middle-aged man, moved by the beautiful view before him, couldn’t help but send such a comnt.
The city’s hustle and bustle have steeped so deeply that even the topics of conversation revolve around the life people want to escape.
[Unable to not chat, but what we talk about is so aningless. Topics include but are not limited to what to do if children’s cram school is canceled, who can possibly repay XXX’s two trillion, and when will the car chip shortage end (facepalm)]
[Damn, too real]
People’s conversation topics inevitably revolve around their own lives, similar to how classmates can talk about everything. But after going to schools in different places, just after one sester, there’s 90% less to talk about.
Any conversation, to enjoy it, must be about shared experiences.
Engulfed in the shade of greenery, listening to babbling brooks, but depleting topics ultimately force you to dream of CBD office buildings, hearing the music of the fountains at the entrance of office towers.
[Tears just by talking about it]
[Yet another tearful day]
[Envious of Old Fang’s life… thrilling and free]
[But it might lead to death (dog’s head)]
“Don’t be sad; it’s already late. Although I’ve secured a safe environnt, I can still further optimize, so there’s a bunch of tasks waiting for tomorrow. That’s it for today’s live broadcast; we’ll continue the rest tomorrow.”
Bi Fang said with a smile, patting his butt as he stood up. The drone flew to the front, and as his voice faded, the live broadcast screen was instantly cut off.
The next day at eight in the morning, the sun showed no signs of rising; the sky remained dark.
Erging from a warm pile of dogs, Bi Fang shook off the dog hair from his body, turned on the live broadcast on ti, prepared his tools, and started his day of optimization. But first, he went to check on the buried musk ox; it was well-preserved, with no irregularities.
To effectively freeze and kill parasites at low temperatures, Bi Fang dismbered the musk ox and buried the pieces in the snow, packing and compressing them securely. After a week, the at could mostly be eaten raw—an easy and convenient thod, mainly aid at supplenting vitamins and achieving a fuller nutritional intake.
Cooked food in the Arctic can only serve as a variation in taste.
Then ca the construction of a shelter, which was the task Bi Fang had set for himself for both today and tomorrow.
“This ti it’s not a snow or ice house. Although the insulating properties of ice and snow are good, there is one fatal flaw—if the room temperature is above zero degrees, it will inevitably lt. Therefore, the indoor temperature can only be raised to a point close to zero degrees, achieving a relatively warm, passable shelter,” he explained.
“But for better living, snow and ice houses are definitely not sufficient, so I plan to build a wooden cabin. For this, I have no choice but to fell trees.”
Bi Fang lifted the tools in his hands, showing that he had prepared a stone hamr and chisels.
Stone axes tend to shatter, so chopping must be done with a chisel and hamr.
“A wooden cabin can be a long-term shelter, most commonly used in cold and temperate climates. Wood is not only safe, stable, and warm, but it can also effectively withstand inclent weather.”
Bi Fang went into the forest, found a few good trees, and collected the wood he needed.
“To build a wooden cabin, you can use an ‘A’ fra or a lean-to roof. If there’s only one person, or materials are limited, then I recomnd the lean-to roof.”
“Choose woods that are manageable in weight. The tools are sharp. If you chop down a tree with a half-ter diater, believe , it’s useless for you because you can’t even move it, and don’t choose trees that require all your strength to lift—that will be too tiring for construction.”
“My recomndation is to use timber no more than six inches in diater—about fifteen centiters. The length of each piece of wood depends on the size of the shelter and the walls built with these woods.”
“Of course, this diater is not absolute; it’s a general choice. If you’re a woman, then you can appropriately reduce the size. And if you find yourself in an area with only hardwood trees, the diater can be smaller. They have a higher density, and the sa size ans greater weight.”
With the final strike, a six-ter tall pine tree fell with a crash.
Having stripped off the excess branches and leaves, it was dragged to the riverbank, followed by the second tree, then the third. Soon, a stack of low wood began to accumulate, but it was clearly not enough. This was a long process of gathering.
At noon, having removed his coat, Bi Fang rested the hamr on his shoulder and looked up at the sky. It was still pitch black, radiating faint purple light, but on the distant horizon, there was a faint glow of gold.
That was a sliver of the sun—or perhaps not even a sliver, just a touch of sunlight.
And that was the limit of the sun’s rise.
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