Nighttime.

The Tundra’s frigid wind howled, rampaging unopposed across the vast expanse. It was a bone-chilling cold, crashing against everything in successive waves, like a tide.

It whipped up the accumulated snow into misty plumes that danced like ghosts under the glow of the aurora.

The tent, protected by a windbreak, was shielded from the wind’s assault.

Inside, the stove fire cast an orange-red glow. The light danced upon the tent’s inner walls, throwing flickering shadows.

Prince and Princess lay beside the sleeping bags, their furry bodies like two natural hot water bottles, providing extra warmth for Feng Shan and Nash.

A warm aura permeated the small space, a stark contrast to the howling wind outside.

Feng Shan stared quietly at the roof of the tent, his thoughts drifting to Crown Territory.

Through his connection with the tribe’s Fire Seed, everything in Crown Territory unfolded in his mind.

On the riverbank, Old Swan and a crowd of town residents were sleeping in tents made of reindeer hide.

The frames for the bar and restaurant were complete; only final adjustments and interior decoration remained.

The fruit trees in the camp were thriving. Feng Shan had specifically directed the Fire Seed to focus on them, hoping they could eat fresh fruit by next year.

His focus shifted to the wooden cabins.

Jenny and Tammy were resting in a guest room on the first floor, and the other members had all returned to their own mini-cabins.

David’s brow was furrowed in concentration as he hunched over a table, sketching and making notes on the camp’s blueprints.

Maria was curled up on her bed, staring into space. ’She must miss her grandmother back in Kivalina.’

His gaze passed through Erica’s small cabin, revealing two pale, writhing figures.

The sight nearly blinded Feng Shan.

’I didn’t think two girls could get so wild.’

Suppressing the urge to keep watching, he shifted his focus to another part of the camp, just in time to see Yves and Wawa on patrol, rifles slung over their backs.

Perhaps it was a sixth sense honed on the battlefield, but Yves suddenly looked up at the night sky.

Wawa, beside him, was confused. "See something?"

Yves shook his head and kept walking.

’Is a soldier’s intuition that sharp?’

’He could sense me watching them.’

Feng Shan withdrew from his connection with the tribe’s Fire Seed and shifted his focus, connecting instead with the Totem Wooden Statue on the *River Beach*, far away at Saint Paul Island.

The *River Beach* was currently docked at the Merchant Fishing Pier.

The crabbing boat was dark, save for Alvin, who sat alone on deck. A few cans of beer were placed beside him, and his gaze was fixed on the heaving sea.

Sigh.

’Everyone has their burdens. Matters of the heart require a remedy for the heart.’

’Alvin has a lot on his mind!’

Having surveyed Crown Territory and the *River Beach*, Feng Shan broke the connection.

It was getting a bit hot in his sleeping bag, so he slid out and wrapped his arms around Prince, who was lying beside him.

Prince glanced up before resting his head back down. Then, he shot a smug look at Princess.

’See that?’

’This family would fall apart without me.’

...

「Early morning.」

A series of Thunderbird calls sounded from outside the tent.

Hearing the noise, Prince and Princess scrambled to their feet, gave a long, lazy stretch, and squeezed out through the tent’s ventilation flap.

Feng Shan and Nash got up soon after.

They tossed last night’s leftover roasted rabbit into the stew pot, added melted snow, and boiled a meat broth for breakfast.

Unzipping the tent, a gust of crisp, cold air rushed in, carrying the unique scent of the Tundra.

After a night of rampaging winds, the surroundings were utterly still.

The makeshift snow wall they had built as a windbreak was in tatters in some spots, but it still stood firm.

On the snow near a thicket of Arctic Willow, strings of animal tracks marked the passage of Tundra wildlife during the night.

Prince and Princess emerged from out of nowhere, each carrying a Thunderbird, and laid them at Feng Shan’s feet.

"You two can have them," Feng Shan said, patting the dog and wolf on the head.

Back in the tent, Nash was already packing their belongings.

During the winter, daylight lasted less than six hours, so they had to make the most of it to travel.

They rolled up the sleeping bags and fur blankets and loaded them onto the sled. They extinguished the stove with snow and took down the tent.

Feng Shan let out a whistle, and Prince and Princess, having just finished their Thunderbirds, came running back.

Nash picked up the sled’s tow rope, but Feng Shan stopped him. "You were up adding wood to the fire a few times last night, so you can’t have slept well. I’ll pull."

Before Nash could refuse, Feng Shan grabbed the tow rope and started pulling the sled forward.

The two journeyed across the snowfield. The Tundra weather was fickle; one moment the sun was out, and the next, a light snow would begin to fall, or the wind would gust, sending flurries of snow into the air.

Along the way, they encountered a migrating reindeer herd, and this time, Feng Shan didn’t pass up the opportunity.

The journey to Kevik Camp would take several more days, and they couldn’t count on finding Arctic hares every day. Besides, while rabbit was a nice change of pace, it was far inferior to reindeer meat for replenishing their strength.

A single shot rang out.

He hit a bull reindeer weighing around 200 pounds.

Startled by the gunshot, the herd scattered in all directions.

Feng Shan and Nash butchered the reindeer on the spot. They cut open its belly. While the organs were the best food for calories, they were also full of parasites, so Feng Shan tossed them to Prince and Princess.

The four limbs and the rest of the carcass were chopped into large chunks and tossed into the snow to cool quickly.

In the thirty-below-zero temperatures, the reindeer meat quickly froze rock-solid.

Prince and Princess devoured the reindeer organs, leaving only a few scraps behind for other predators.

After packing the frozen reindeer meat onto the sled, the two of them set off again.

Because they had stopped to hunt, they covered less ground than they had planned.

Before nightfall, Feng Shan found a snowdrift beside a frozen Ice River, and they decided to make camp there.

Nash took charge of setting up the tent while Feng Shan, rifle on his back, went to search for firewood.

The deep snow blanketed everything. When the wind blew, even the shrubs were buried, making the search for firewood much more difficult.

It wasn’t until Princess started whining in front of a snowdrift that Feng Shan dug it out with his axe, revealing the bushes buried beneath.

The thicket was dead and dry, its branches so desiccated by the wind that they snapped with the slightest pressure.

This was the worst kind of firewood—it burned quickly, gave off little heat, and produced a lot of smoke.

Normally, Feng Shan wouldn’t even consider using such wood.

But the surrounding area was barren; there was no other suitable fuel to be found.

In an environment like this, you couldn’t afford to be picky. It was better than nothing.

He chopped a bundle of the scrub and returned to camp to find that Nash had already pitched the tent and was now processing the reindeer meat.

Feng Shan thought of the frozen Ice River nearby, and his urge to fish flared up. He’d never tried ice fishing before.

He hacked off a chunk of reindeer meat with his axe, retrieved a fishing line and hook from the sled, and headed eagerly to the Ice River.

The river was about ten meters wide and frozen solid. You could jump up and down on it without it cracking.

He walked to the center of the river and began hacking furiously at the ice with his axe, sending chips flying everywhere.

Not until he had carved a meter-deep hole did he see water seeping up from cracks at the bottom.

’Finally, I’m through!’

Feng Shan flexed his wrists, positioned the axe vertically at the bottom of the hole, and slammed it down with a forceful blow.

SPLASH!

The ice shattered, and river water rushed in, quickly filling the hole.

Taking out the fishing line and baiting the hook was rather awkward while wearing thick gloves.

By the time he was ready, a new layer of ice had already formed on the surface of the hole.

Feng Shan had to break the ice again with his axe before dropping his baited line into the hole. He jigged the line every so often to lure a fish to the hook.

After a long while, there was still no bite. His fur hood was caked with frost from his breath, and Feng Shan began to wonder if there were any fish in the river at all.

Suddenly, the line went taut.

’A bite!’

Feng Shan quickly gripped the line and pulled. It surged up and down, then dove powerfully back into the water, a clear sign he’d hooked something big.

After a brief tug-of-war, Feng Shan emerged victorious.

He slowly pulled up the line. A strange, flat-mouthed fish broke the surface. Its mouth was filled with sharp teeth, and its body was covered in brown spots, somewhat resembling a snakehead from his home country.

Once the big fish was out of the water, Feng Shan tossed it onto the ice.

The large fish flopped a few times on the ice before the water on its skin froze it in place.

’One is enough. Ice fishing is no job for a human.’

’I’m so cold my hair is freezing stiff.’

Feng Shan picked up the big fish and headed straight back to camp to show it off to Nash.

"Pike," Nash said after a glance. He took the fish, tossed it into the snow, and made an incision near its neck with a small knife. He carved out two fillets and threw the rest to Prince and Princess.

’Just two fillets from the whole fish.’

If they were back at the camp, Feng Shan would have definitely said something about being wasteful.

But after just a short time fishing on the Ice River, his feet were numb with cold. He couldn’t be bothered to care about waste, so he just dove into the tent to warm himself by the fire.

As the sky darkened, night slowly enveloped the Tundra.

Thick black smoke billowed from the tent’s chimney pipe. It rose and swirled, starkly visible against the night sky.

This was the consequence of using poor-quality wood. It couldn’t combust fully, producing thick smoke that filled the air around the tent with a pungent odor.

Inside the tent, the reindeer meat stewed in the pot, its rich, savory aroma filling the small space.

Feng Shan placed a frying pan on the stove and added some reindeer fat. As the pan heated up, the fat slowly melted with a SIZZLE.

He cut the fish into large pieces and placed them in the rendered fat.

The moment the fish hit the hot oil, it CRACKLED, its translucent pink flesh instantly turning white.

Feng Shan continuously flipped the pieces with a spatula to ensure they cooked evenly on all sides.

Before long, the surface of the fish turned a crispy, golden brown, releasing an enticing aroma.

Next, Feng Shan sprinkled seasoning powder over the fish. As it settled evenly on the surface, the aroma became even more intense.

He pan-fried each side for another thirty seconds before removing the fish from the heat and plating it with the spatula.

Fresh fish doesn’t need to be cooked for long; overdoing it would ruin the texture.

The perfect cooking time left the skin golden and crisp while the inside remained tender and juicy.

Two plates of fried fish accompanied by reindeer broth—in this frigid environment, the meal was exceptionally appealing.

Feng Shan and Nash sat around the stove, eagerly picking up their cutlery.

The first bite of fish was a festival of textures and flavors—crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, with the seasoning exploding on the tongue. A sip of the hot reindeer broth sent a wave of warmth spreading from their mouths through their entire bodies.

Having stuffed themselves with reindeer organs earlier, Prince and Princess were now sprawled out in the tent, too lazy to move.

It seemed even colder by the river than out on the open Tundra.

The river made the air more humid, and in low temperatures, humidity makes the cold feel even more biting.

The wind that swept along the river channel was especially sharp and piercing, like a knife.

Each gust felt as if it could pierce the tent and cut straight to the bone, bringing a stabbing pain.

After their meal, Feng Shan and Nash went for a walk by the river. When they returned, their faces were red from the cold. They had to wrap their scarves tighter and hurry back into the tent.

...