Only by Going Mad Could One Truly Live

Feng Jun's idea did not hold up to close scrutiny, and bringing a generator would also cause plenty of trouble.

As mentioned earlier, diesel generators were extremely loud, and the noise would carry far at night. If it attracted some ferocious beast, that would be disastrous.

Even worse would be attracting other humans. Out here in the wilderness, people could very well be far more terrifying than wild beasts.

After smoking a cigarette, Feng Jun set out fully armed. This time, he even wore his helmet. He held a Kukri in his left hand and a rubber baton in his right, with a powerful crossbow on his back, a stun baton at his waist, and a dagger strapped to each outer thigh and calf.

In the blink of an eye, ten days passed. Feng Jun was now weather-beaten, and his body reeked strongly of sweat.

Searching the mountains was even more exhausting than he had imagined.

He did not need to inspect every inch of ground. He only had to get a general sense of the area and see whether his wrist heated up. Thus, over those ten days, he had searched a circular area with the warehouse at its center and a radius of thirty li.

Yet he found nothing at all!

He did encounter some danger. He fell into a cave once, fortunately it was not deep. Another time, he stepped on what he thought was a dead branch, only to discover it was some unknown insect that bit him viciously. Fortunately, his leather boots were lined with steel plates.

The insect only bit through the outer layer of cowhide, leaving two rows of fine indentations on the steel plate.

Even more terrifyingly, he once encountered a massive swarm of mosquito-like insects beside a patch of bushes, a dense black cloud of them.

They looked like mosquitoes, but each was about the size of a Dragonfly. Their long, needle-like mouthparts showed that they sucked blood—or, at the very least, plant sap.

Fortunately, among the supplies Feng Jun had bought were tear gas canisters. Yes, the shopkeeper really did have such contraband, though it was certain that they were not standard-issue products but counterfeits.

In fact, there was nothing strange about such things being available. When Feng Jun made the purchase, he had asked the shopkeeper for "smoke bombs," claiming they were needed for filming by his production crew and that it would be best if they could add "a tear-inducing effect."

The shopkeeper said that if they came with a tear-inducing effect, the price would be a little... well, ahem, you know.

Feng Jun bought five canisters and carried two with him.

Luckily he had brought two. When he opened one of them, it did not react at all. truly was a distribution hub for counterfeit and shoddy goods.

Fortunately, the other canister came through, instantly spewing thick white smoke.

This was the tear gas's first appearance in this world, and its effect was remarkably obvious. Those mosquitoes had originally been extremely ferocious, charging at Feng Jun with the suicidal momentum of hornets whose nest had been disturbed.

But the instant the thick smoke rose, the black cloud of mosquitoes abruptly stalled.

A few mosquitoes, perhaps unable to stop in time or simply unwilling to believe it, rushed into the white smoke and immediately began dropping to the ground with a crackling patter.

As they fell, their transparent wings emitted strange buzzing vibrations, as if warning the others. Then the white smoke spread, and some mosquitoes that had not reacted in time also fell toward the ground.

Next, the black cloud rapidly retreated, like snow melting in boiling water.

When it realized the white smoke was still spreading, the black cloud turned and swept into the distance, retreating without looking back.

By then, Feng Jun could not take it anymore. He finally began coughing violently, tears and snot streaming down his face. "Cough, cough... damn it, I forgot to buy a gas mask."

In any case, after those ten days, Feng Jun had become noticeably thinner. What he needed to consider now was whether to continue searching here or move somewhere else to continue the expedition.

Looking at the fewer than eighty bottles of mineral water remaining, he decided to travel farther. When he came in, he had brought a full 120 bottles of 1.25-liter mineral water, totaling 240 jin.

He had thought, Even if I drink two and a half bottles a day, it should last forty or fifty days. Who could have expected that climbing mountains beneath the blazing sun would make him drink at least three bottles a day? At night, he could boil water in his kettle and drink some hot tea to ward off the cold.

Water was a problem, and gasoline was also a problem, though in the exact opposite way. He had a little too much gasoline left. If he did not use it now, it would be a long time before he had another chance to use it.

In truth, Feng Jun was already nearing his limit. He did not know whether his body smelled bad, but he was absolutely certain that his hair had clumped together in greasy strands that even a comb could not pull apart.

How he longed to sleep in a quiet room, without shivering beneath a blanket, without worrying that howling winds would blow his tent away, and without worrying about strange little animals barging in during the night.

He had never realized how precious it was to have a peaceful, stable room of one's own.

To be honest, being alone in the wilderness felt awful. He really was close to not being able to endure it any longer.

If he had known it would be like this, he would have brought a phone in with him, even if only so he could play some little games like tile matching.

Yet despite all those complaints, he still insisted on continuing the expedition for one reason alone: he was running low on energy. When he returned this time, he would probably have only a little over twenty Energy Points left. That would only guarantee one round of smuggling goods; two would be pushing it.

He felt a sense of urgency. He had to seize the time. He was in the best years of his life and needed to get rich as soon as possible so he could enjoy it.

Besides, whether the strange encounter brought by the Stone Ring could stay with him for the rest of his life was also uncertain.

That night, he enjoyed a hearty meal and, unusually, drank a small bottle of Fenjiu. He slept relatively soundly.

Early the next morning, just as daylight broke, he rode his motorcycle out. He took most of his remaining food and water along with half his gasoline, armed himself to the teeth, and bumped his way toward an unknown journey of exploration.

After observing for ten days, he had discovered that the southern side of these mountains seemed to contain valleys and flatlands, so that was the direction he chose.

The motorcycle's load was now approaching 250 kilograms. Even with its modified frame, it was struggling under the weight, and the rugged terrain made traveling exceptionally difficult.

The load behind the bike was especially heavy. Whenever it hit a bump, Feng Jun often felt as if he could barely keep the front wheel under control.

The next time he came in, he had to bring a modified motorcycle capable of carrying an enormous load. He would also need to weld a luggage rack onto the front.

He made the decision silently.

After staggering along like that, by noon he had traveled a little over two hundred li.

By then, he had entered a valley. The valley had countless branches, and it was clear they had once been riverbeds, though they were dry now. Occasionally, he could spot shells wedged between gaps in the pebbles.

Seas and Mulberry Fields—this was perfectly normal. Since there was already a Gobi Desert to the west, dried-up riverbeds here were hardly anything remarkable.

Feng Jun did not explore those smaller river valleys. He had no map now and was not even entirely certain of his direction. Under such circumstances, investigating those branching valleys would be no different from seeking death.

As a former amateur hiker, he understood such knowledge well enough. Although he had great confidence in his memory and was particularly good at recognizing routes, he had no intention of challenging lessons that others had summarized through blood and tears.

He was a meticulous person. As he advanced, every sixty or seventy li, he would not only stop to look around but also bury some food and water for use on his return journey.

If the motorcycle broke down halfway, he would have to rely on those hidden supplies to make it back safely.

Of course, he could leave this world at any time and return to the place he rented, but the cost of doing so was simply too high. Unless he had no other choice, he would not use that option.

By evening, Feng Jun estimated that he had traveled a little over four hundred li—about two hundred kilometers.

The valley twisted and turned. As for the straight-line distance, it was hard to say whether it even reached one hundred kilometers.

As the supplies on the motorcycle dwindled, it became much more maneuverable and less difficult to ride.

Still, Feng Jun decided to set up camp before evening. He chose a hollow on the mountainside beside the valley and pitched his tent there. That was common sense—the wind in the middle of the valley was simply too strong.

Sure enough, once the sun set, the wind in the valley suddenly intensified. Especially near dawn, the howling, freezing wind seemed to become the only thing between heaven and earth, earth-shaking and incomparably desolate.

From the sound alone, Feng Jun could tell that the wind was at least Force 7.

Still, he was quite pleased with himself, because the place he had chosen was excellent. The valley wind barely affected it. Even when a gust did blow through, it was only around Force 2 or 3.

When dawn broke the next day, the wind had weakened considerably. He packed up and continued onward.

He had already made up his mind. He would explore for another two or three days at most, then return whether he found anything or not. Otherwise, he could not guarantee his supply situation.

This valley was simply too winding. Who knew how much farther he would have to travel before getting out?

At the absolute most, he would explore for four more days. That was the bottom line he had set for himself.

Interestingly, he had barely made that decision when he found something around noon.

At the time, he stopped beside a Big Rock, intending to look around before choosing a spot to bury a small amount of food and water.

But while surveying the area, he discovered a human skeleton.

He had seen human bones more than once along the way. This place was extremely desolate and had once been a river rich in water. He could find fish bones, turtle shells, and broken seashells, so why could there not be human bones?

However, this skeleton was far too close to him, and something like an iron chain was still tied around its bones.

Feng Jun knew that if this had happened before he received his strange encounter, finding a human skeleton in the middle of nowhere would have scared him half to death. He definitely would not have dared to go closer and examine it carefully.

But now, he walked over and kicked the skeleton apart with one foot, without feeling the slightest discomfort.

This showed that courage was something one trained. Once one saw enough of something, one became accustomed to it.

Even heroes became ordinary people once seen often enough. The same went for corpses and bones.

The skeleton had weathered badly. The fact that it had not fallen apart in the river winds over countless years was already impressive. After taking Feng Jun's kick, it instantly shattered into pieces.

The iron chain, however, was fairly sturdy and did not scatter apart.

"Hmm?" Feng Jun frowned and looked toward the other end of the chain. It seemed to be fastened to something?

Actually, it was nothing much—just an irregular rock about the size of a human head, somewhat flat... but that color?