The Battle of Life and Death in the Barbaric World

It had been a while since the rain ceased, yet several persistent tongues of flame spat out by the big chicken still burned tenaciously. Zhou Min stared at the flames, a glimmer of hope kindling within him. "This fire is a stroke of luck. It can dry my clothes, and perhaps I can even use it to roast some food," he thought to himself. Swiftly, he brought his soaking - wet clothes close to the remaining fire. Before long, wisps of water vapor rose, carrying the distinct smell of damp fabric.

Once his clothes were dry, he turned his attention to the carcass of the giant python beside him. The flames on the python had died down, leaving behind only charred skin and a pungent, acrid stench. Zhou Min stepped forward and gave it a tentative kick. The surface felt rigid, and he couldn't help but mutter, "How on earth am I supposed to eat this? What if it's poisonous? I'd be in a world of trouble. But if I don't eat, how long can I last?" His hands trembled involuntarily, and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead. Caught in a desperate struggle between survival and the fear of death, he finally summoned the courage to make a decision. "I'm doomed either way. I might as well take a chance," he said firmly.

He glanced up at the sky. The sunlight had turned a dull yellow, and he knew that night was fast approaching. A sense of urgency washed over Zhou Min. He realized he needed to find a place to spend the night and find some sustenance immediately. Without hesitation, he gathered the branches that had fallen during the epic battle between the big chicken and the python and constructed a simple bonfire stack. Next, he collected a few chunks of broken stone and arranged them into a makeshift stove. As the sky darkened further, Zhou Min picked up a burning branch and ignited the bonfire. With a sudden "whoosh," the flames shot up, crackling merrily and dispelling some of the darkness and cold. But as he looked back at the python's body, his brows furrowed in worry. "I don't have a knife. How can I possibly prepare this python? Can I really survive in this wild and untamed world?"

The flickering firelight cast an orange glow over Zhou Min's tired yet determined face. He rested his chin in his hand, deep in thought. "This python is massive. Where should I even begin? I only have a basic understanding of wilderness survival. What if I make a mess of things?" The only sound in the stillness was the crackling of the flames consuming the branches. Suddenly, a faint glimmer caught his eye in the distance. His eyes lit up with hope. "Could that be a sign of help? Whatever it is, I have to go and investigate," he said to himself. He grabbed a burning branch to use as a torch and made his way briskly towards the source of the light.

"An eggshell? A feather? Could these be from the big chicken and its chick?" he wondered. He crouched down, carefully picked up the two items, and made his way back to the bonfire. The eggshell was as large as a washbasin. In the firelight, it had an earth - toned yellow hue. When he brought it close to his nose, a faint, pleasant aroma wafted from inside, and there was still a trace of glistening liquid. He then picked up the feather. The yellow plumage glinted brightly in the firelight, roughly the length of an adult's arm. The base was smooth, making it easy to grasp with both hands. He touched it curiously. The feather was incredibly stiff, and when he lightly ran his finger along the edge, it sliced a thin gash in his fingertip. Although the cut was shallow, it filled him with a mix of surprise and excitement. "So sharp! This feather is a god - send," he exclaimed.

Gripping the feather tightly, he approached the python's carcass. However, the terrifying image of the python from earlier that day flashed through his mind - the huge snake head looming overhead, its gaping maw seemingly ready to devour him at any moment. His legs grew weak, and his palms were slick with sweat. Fear coursed through his veins. "Can I really do this? What if I somehow stir up the dead python or make a fatal mistake? I..." But the thought of survival spurred him on. He took a deep breath, clenched the feather with both hands, and let out a determined shout. "Hey!" With a swift motion, the python's head rolled off as easily as if he were cutting through soft butter. "That was surprisingly easy," Zhou Min exclaimed in disbelief, and some of his fear began to ebb away.

Seizing the moment, he cut off three pieces of the python's body, peeled away the skin, and found that the meat had been cooked to a perfect state. Next, he sliced the remaining python meat into smaller pieces, placed them in the eggshell, set it on the makeshift stove, and added the rainwater he'd collected earlier to make a pot of python soup. Looking at the rest of the meat, he skewered it on branches and placed it over the bonfire to roast. The soup in the eggshell pot began to bubble and gurgle, releasing a mouth - watering aroma. The flames lapped at the skewered meat, giving off an enticing smoky smell. Still, a nagging worry lingered in his mind. "I need to cook this soup a bit longer. I have no idea if there are parasites in this python. If I get sick from eating it out here, I'm finished," he fretted.

Zhou Min examined the "kebab" in his hand, deciding it needed a bit more time over the fire. He patiently stayed by the bonfire, turning the branches periodically to ensure the meat cooked evenly. As time passed, the outer layer of the python meat turned a crispy golden - brown, sizzling with fat and emitting an irresistible aroma. He cut off a piece with the feather and popped it into his mouth. In an instant, the heat and rich flavor filled his mouth. The meat was tender, juicy, and had a unique, wild - game taste that made him devour it hungrily. After finishing the roasted meat, he turned his attention to the cooked soup. Lifting the eggshell, he saw the pale - yellow, thick broth with evenly - sized pieces of meat floating in it. "Just right," he murmured contentedly. He removed the eggshell from the fire and took a small sip of the soup. The delicious taste elicited a satisfied "Delicious!" from him. He ate heartily, finishing every last bit of the python meat, even sucking the marrow out of the bones.

Fully sated, Zhou Min lay contentedly by the bonfire, gazing up at the star - filled night sky. His stomach was slightly rounded, and a satisfied smile played on his lips. But beneath this surface contentment, a deep sense of uncertainty about the future lurked. "I made it through today, but what about tomorrow? Can I really find my way back home?" he pondered, his heart heavy with worry.

Zhou Min sat alone under an ancient tree. The only sounds were the occasional chirping of insects. The stars twinkled brightly in the night sky, triggering a flood of homesickness and longing for his parents. He closed his eyes slowly, and scenes of his hometown unfolded in his mind like a vivid movie: the familiar streets, the narrow alleys, the warm glow of the lights in his home, and his parents' loving faces. The memory of the family sitting around the dinner table when he was a child seemed like it was just yesterday. Now, he was in this desolate forest, and feelings of loneliness and helplessness enveloped him.

"The moon shines bright, the stars are few. Magpies fly south, circling the tree three times. Which branch shall they alight upon?" he murmured softly, his voice tinged with a hint of a sob. "Stranded in this place, I wonder how my parents are. With that huge earthquake, I really hope they're safe," he said, his heart aching with worry. In this vast, desolate forest, he felt acutely aware of his own insignificance and isolation, like a leaf adrift in a strong wind, unsure of its destination. He yearned to return to his hometown, to be back with his parents, to feel their warmth and security once more. The longing welled up within him, and his eyes grew moist with tears that trickled down his cheeks.

"I'm my parents' only child. I'm their support. I have to survive, no matter what," he said to himself, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists resolutely. In this uninhabited forest, the feelings of loneliness and homesickness made him realize just how important his hometown and parents were to him. This longing became his driving force. No matter how difficult the journey ahead might be, he was determined not to give up, fueled by the deep love he had for his family.

Before long, soft snores filled the air. Perhaps due to the day's exhaustion, Zhou Min, who usually didn't snore, was now sound asleep, his body rising and falling gently with each breath.

"Minmin's home. Wash your hands and come eat," his mother's gentle voice echoed in his dream. The familiar tone brought a warm feeling to his heart.

"Okay, Mom. Where's Dad?" he responded instinctively.

"Your dad went to the countryside to make a delivery. We won't wait for him," his mother replied affectionately.

"Have you washed your hands yet? Hurry up and eat. Don't look at your phone while you're eating. It's bad for your stomach," his mother's nagging, which he usually took for granted, now seemed like the sweetest sound.

"Give me your phone. I'll keep it for you," his mother said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Okay, Mom. I'm not a kid anymore. Why do you always have to keep an eye on me?" he replied playfully, filled with a sense of happiness.

"You're my son. Who else is going to take care of you? Hurry up and eat. I made your favorite braised beef with potatoes since your dad's not home," his mother's words were filled with love.

"Mom, I won't be eating at home tonight," Zhou Min said, a hint of apology in his voice as he ate.

"Not eating at home again? You've only been back for a few days, and you're always out," his mother sounded a bit disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's a gathering with my friends. I can't really skip it," he explained.

"Eating out all the time is not good. The food outside has additives and might even be made with gutter oil. It's bad for your health," his mother's concern touched him deeply.

"I kno—"

Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently. The house trembled. "Mom, run! Earthquake! Hurry!" he shouted in terror. The electric fan and light fixtures in the room swayed wildly. Bags of fertilizer, stacked four or five meters high, toppled over, hitting the ground with a dull thud. His heart leaped into his throat. He held his mother tightly, trying to rush her outside. "Mom, let's go!" With all his strength, he pushed his mother out of the door. "Aah!" A scream escaped his lips as a bag of fertilizer landed heavily on him. He felt a sharp pain, and his body was pinned down. Another bag of fertilizer came crashing down towards his head.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Zhou Min jolted awake from his dream, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding wildly. He looked around in a panic and realized he was in the forest, with only the extinguished bonfire and the dark night surrounding him. "Phew, it was just a dream, but it felt so real," he gasped, still shaken. The sky was starting to lighten with the first signs of dawn. Zhou Min stretched, then slowly stood up. Looking at the towering trees and the mysterious wilderness around him, he felt a strange sense of determination. "The wild, here I come," he said to himself, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead in this barbaric world.