Journeying.

Zhong Lin reached down and picked up a stone from the ground. Unlike before, he could now easily sense its weight, hardness, and moisture. He knew exactly how much force to apply to make it fly the farthest and what angle would maximize its damage.

He aimed at a turtledove perched on a tree twenty meters away, adjusting his stance.

*Whoosh!*

The stone sailed just over the bird's head, the sound of it cutting through the air startling the turtledove. It stumbled, flapped its wings frantically, and vanished into the forest.

Zhong Lin's face darkened. "I knew it."

He picked up another stone, this time targeting a bluestone about fifteen meters away.

*Whoosh!*

The stone struck dead on, hitting the exact left edge he'd aimed for.

"Experience is experience. The Zhong Lin in those memories practiced Flying Locust Stone for decades, with immense arm strength, naturally able to hit whatever he aimed at. But me? I'm just a weakling with twig-thin arms. Speed, strength, accuracy—I can't compare. Still, within ten meters, I can hit my target easily," Zhong Lin mused to himself.

He yawned, exhaustion washing over him, making it hard to keep his eyes open.

He patted Little Shi awake, who was still fast asleep, and told him not to wander off. Then Zhong Lin lay down and fell asleep.

Over three hours later, he woke from his slumber. Though still tired, he felt much better than before.

They built a fire and cooked—wild vegetables and smoked meat again. After eating their fill, the two set off once more.

Yawning incessantly, they crossed a second mountain ridge. Fortunately, the journey remained peaceful and uneventful.

Descending the mountain, they traveled another twenty to thirty kilometers until a village finally appeared ahead.

"Second Brother, Second Brother, look!"

Little Shi pointed at the distant village houses, shouting excitedly. Zhong Lin smiled too. They hadn't seen a single soul along the way, and he'd been worried for a while that he'd taken a wrong turn. After all, his predecessor had never been to Heishan County—the route was just hearsay.

In this world, there were no maps or navigation. If they'd gone the wrong way, who knows where they'd end up?

"This should be Funiu Village. Let's go check it out," Zhong Lin said with a grin.

Little Shi hopped off the wheelbarrow and skipped alongside Zhong Lin toward Funiu Village.

"Wow! What a huge cow!"

Little Shi pointed at a massive bluestone at the village entrance, exclaiming in awe.

Zhong Lin smiled too. The stone was a natural formation resembling a crouching ox—hence the name Funiu Village, or "Crouching Ox Village."

Seeing this stone confirmed to Zhong Lin that they hadn't lost their way.

Little Shi circled the ox-shaped stone, marveling loudly, only reluctantly moving on when Zhong Lin urged him forward.

"Stop."

Zhong Lin suddenly halted, calling out to Little Shi to stop too.

"What's wrong, Second Brother?"

"Something's off."

Zhong Lin pulled the bow from his back, nocking an arrow and holding it at the ready.

After crossing the mountain and walking so far, it was now evening. By normal habits, people should've been lighting fires to cook dinner. Yet Funiu Village was eerily silent—no sounds, no voices. Only a flock of crows circled overhead, their harsh caws piercing the air.

Zhong Lin's expression grew grave. As the sun set, the village was bathed in a red glow, but for some reason, it felt like a scene drenched in blood.

"Let's go. Get on the cart. We're leaving."

A sense of urgency gripped Zhong Lin. He grabbed Little Shi, tossed him onto the wheelbarrow, and turned to leave.

A gentleman doesn't stand beneath a crumbling wall.

This world wasn't the safe, relatively law-abiding one of his past life. His predecessor's memories were filled with tales of mountain bandits killing and strongmen plundering.

Though he had the system and max-level archery, his twig-like frame could only manage a few shots before tiring. In an unknown, potentially dangerous situation like this, retreat was the smartest move.

Little Shi, though young, was sensible. He didn't ask questions—just followed along.

They hit the road again, moving away from Funiu Village. They didn't stop until the sun had fully set and visibility was gone.

Looking back at the now-invisible Funiu Village, Zhong Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Looks like we're camping out again tonight. Shi, go pick up some dry firewood nearby. Don't wander far, got it?"

"Mm."

Little Shi toddled off to gather wood while Zhong Lin collected dry leaves to start a fire.

Their water pouch was running low, so they didn't cook. Instead, they ate the dried meat Uncle Yutou had given them to fill their stomachs.

Zhong Lin stayed awake all night again, even more cautious than the night before. He didn't even practice Flying Locust Stone, fearing any unexpected trouble.

The night passed quietly, without incident.

"Guess I overthought it."

Zhong Lin exhaled in relief, yawned, woke Little Shi, and then lay down to sleep. He didn't get up until the sun was high, dragging himself upright with a face full of exhaustion.

"Let's go! Hopefully we'll reach our destination today."

"Mm!"

They washed down some dried meat with cold water, forced it into their stomachs, and set off again.

As they progressed, the road widened. Wheel ruts appeared, and after crossing another ridge, a broad highway came into view—wide enough for horse carriages.

"Second Brother, Second Brother, look—people!"

After three days without seeing anyone, even Little Shi's childlike spirit was worn down. Spotting figures in the distance, he shouted with excitement.

"I see them. Let's catch up."

Zhong Lin nodded, lifted Little Shi onto the wheelbarrow, turned a corner, and joined the highway.

As they drew closer, Zhong Lin frowned at the sight of the travelers.

Ahead was a family of four—a man and woman with two children. The man walked in front, carrying a pole with burdens slung over his shoulder. The woman trailed behind, holding a child's hand in each of hers.

All four were disheveled, gaunt, and hollow-eyed, their faces yellowed from hunger.

Zhong Lin looked further ahead. The other travelers were much the same—some without even luggage, barefoot, leaning on makeshift sticks broken from who-knows-where, all emaciated and sallow.

"Refugees?"

Zhong Lin sighed inwardly, instantly understanding their plight. It deepened his realization of the drought's impact.

Xiahe Village hadn't seen rain in three months. The land was parched, crops had failed, but at least a river ran through it, and it sat near a branch of the Heishan Mountains, where hunting was possible.

Other places weren't so lucky. The Heishan range was vast, dotted with villages, hamlets, and market towns. But not every settlement had a river like Xiahe Village's. It seemed Xiahe wasn't the worst off after all. No wonder Uncle Yutou had advised against leaving—out here, things looked worse than at home.