No Madness, No Life

In truth, the reasoning of Feng Jun could not withstand scrutiny, and bringing a generator also posed significant trouble.

As mentioned before, the sound of a diesel generator is very loud and would travel quite far at night; if it were to attract some ferocious beast, that would be a disaster.

Even worse would be attracting his own kind; in the wilderness, humans are likely far more terrifying than wild beasts.

After smoking a cigarette, Feng Jun set off fully armed. This time, he even wore a helmet. With a kukri knife in his left hand and a rubber baton in his right, he carried a powerful crossbow on his back, a stun gun hung at his waist, and a dagger strapped to the outside of each thigh and calf.

In the blink of an eye, ten days passed. At this moment, Feng Jun's face was weathered, and his body emitted a thick, sweaty stench.

The job of searching the mountains was even more arduous than he had imagined.

He did not need to probe the ground closely; he only needed to get a general sense of whether his wrist was heating up as he walked. Thus, over these ten days, he had searched a circle with a radius of thirty miles, centered on the warehouse.

However, he had gained nothing!

He had encountered some dangers: he fell into a cave, though fortunately, it was not deep; he stepped on a dead branch, which turned out to be an unknown insect that bit him hard, but luckily, the leather boots he wore were lined with steel plates.

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

Particularly terrifying was when he encountered a large swarm of mosquito-like insects near a patch of shrubs, a dense, black mass.

The insects looked like mosquitoes on the outside, but their size was like that of a dragonfly. Their sharp, slender mouths indicated that they were bloodsuckers—or at the very least, they fed on plant juices.

Fortunately, among the supplies Feng Jun had purchased, there was tear gas—that's right, the shopkeeper on Taotao Net actually had such contraband on hand, though it was certain that it was definitely not standard issue, but a replica.

In fact, the appearance of such an item was not strange at all. When Feng Jun purchased it, he had asked the shopkeeper for "smoke grenades," claiming his film crew needed them for shooting and that it would be best if they could add a "tear-inducing effect."

The shopkeeper indicated that if it had a tear-inducing effect, the price would be a bit... ahem, you know.

Feng Jun bought five cans of this stuff and carried two with him.

It was fortunate he brought two; one of them, when opened, had no reaction at all—Taotao Net was truly a hub for counterfeit and shoddy goods.

Luckily, the other one was quite reliable, instantly emitting a thick, white smoke.

This was the debut of a tear gas grenade in this space, and the effect was extremely obvious. Those mosquitoes had been very rampant, rushing toward Feng Jun with a desperate momentum, like hornets whose nest had been poked.

But as soon as the thick smoke rose, the black cloud formed by the mosquitoes stalled.

A few individual mosquitoes, whether unable to stop in time or simply stubborn, rushed into the white smoke and then fell to the ground with a pattering sound.

As they fell, their transparent wings emitted a strange vibrating sound, seemingly as a warning. Immediately after, the white smoke began to spread, and some of the mosquitoes that hadn't reacted in time also fell toward the ground.

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

Upon discovering that the white smoke was still spreading, the black cloud turned and rolled directly into the distance, retreating without looking back.

By that time, Feng Jun couldn't take it anymore either; he finally began to cough violently, tears and snot streaming down his face. "Cough, cough... damn it, I forgot to buy a gas mask."

In any case, after these ten days, Feng Jun had lost quite a bit of weight. He now had to consider whether to continue here or change locations to continue his exploration.

Looking at the less than eighty bottles of mineral water remaining, he decided to travel further. When he arrived, he had brought a full one hundred and twenty 1.25-liter bottles of mineral water, totaling two hundred and forty catties.

He had thought that even if he drank two and a half bottles a day, it would last him forty or fifty days. Who would have thought that climbing mountains under this scorching sun, he would need to drink at least three bottles a day, and at night, he would boil water in a kettle to drink some hot tea to ward off the cold.

Water was a problem, and gasoline was also a problem, though its issue was the exact opposite of the water; there was a bit too much gasoline left, and if he didn't use it now, it would be a long time before he used it again.

In fact, by this time, Feng Jun was already struggling to hold on. He didn't know if he smelled bad, but he was very certain that his hair was matted together in clumps, and even a comb couldn't get through it.

How he longed to sleep in a quiet room, without having to wrap himself in a blanket and shiver, without worrying about his tent being blown away by howling winds, and without worrying about strange little animals intruding in the middle of the night.

He had never realized that owning a stable and peaceful room was so precious.

To tell the truth, being alone in the wilderness was a truly unpleasant experience, and he was really reaching his limit.

If he had known it would be like this, he would have at least brought a mobile phone, so he could at least play some small games like Connect-the-Dots.

However, despite all these complaints, he still insisted on continuing the exploration for one reason only: his energy was running low. This time when he returned, he would only have about twenty-something energy points, enough to guarantee one smuggling trip, but two would be risky.

He felt a sense of urgency; he needed to seize the time. He was in the prime of his life and needed to get rich and enjoy life as soon as possible.

Besides, whether the wonders brought by the Stone Ring would accompany him for his entire life was another matter entirely.

That evening, he had a hearty meal, drank a small bottle of Fenjiu—a rare treat—and had a relatively sound sleep.

Early the next morning, just as the sky began to brighten, he mounted his motorcycle, packed most of the remaining food and water and half of the gasoline, and fully armed, he wobbled off toward an unknown journey of exploration.

Through his observations over the past ten days, he had discovered that the southern side of these mountains seemed to have valleys and flat plains, so he chose that direction.

The motorcycle's load was now approaching two hundred and fifty kilograms. Even with the modified frame, it was somewhat overwhelmed, and the rugged, uneven ground made progress exceptionally difficult.

Especially with the heavy load at the rear of the bike, he often felt like he couldn't keep the front wheel down whenever there was a bump.

Next time he came in, he would definitely have to bring a modified motorcycle with a super-heavy load capacity, and he would have to weld a luggage rack to the front.

He secretly made up his mind.

Bumping and stumbling along the way, by noon, he had traveled a little over two hundred miles.

By this time, he had entered a mountain valley. The valley had many forks, and it was clear that it had once been a riverbed, though it was now dried up; occasionally, he could see seashells in the crevices of the pebbles.

The changing of the world is perfectly normal; since there was a Gobi desert to the west, a dried-up riverbed here was not that rare.

Feng Jun did not explore those small river valleys. Now that he had no map and his sense of direction was not very clear, exploring those forks would be no different from seeking death.

As a former amateur hiker, he was quite clear about these things. Although he was confident in his memory and finding his way was his specialty, he had no intention of challenging the experience that his predecessors had summarized with blood and tears.

He was a meticulous person. As he moved forward, every sixty or seventy miles, he would not only stop to look around but also bury some food and water so he could retrieve them on his way back.

In the event that the motorcycle broke down halfway, he would have to rely on these pre-stashed supplies to return safely.

Of course, he could exit the space at any time and return to his rented place, but the cost of doing so was simply too high; he wouldn't resort to that unless absolutely necessary.

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

The river valley was winding and tortuous; if measured in a straight line, it was hard to say if it was even one hundred kilometers.

As the supplies on the bike decreased, the motorcycle became much more agile and didn't struggle as much.

However, Feng Jun still decided to set up camp at dusk. He chose a depression on the hillside by the river valley to pitch his tent, which was also common sense—the wind in the center of the valley was simply too strong.

Sure enough, as soon as the sun set, the wind in the valley picked up abruptly. Especially by the early hours of the morning, the howling cold wind seemed to be the only thing existing between heaven and earth, earth-shattering and incomparably shrill.

Just by the sound, Feng Jun could judge that the wind force was at least level seven.

Yet he was also quite pleased with himself, because the spot he had chosen was truly excellent; the river wind basically couldn't reach this place, and the occasional gust that blew by was only around level two or three.

When dawn broke the next day, the wind had died down significantly, so he packed his gear and continued on his way.

He had already made up his mind: he would explore for another two to three days, and regardless of whether he found anything, he would have to turn back, otherwise, he couldn't guarantee his supply of provisions.

This river valley was truly too winding; who knew how much further it was to get out?

At the very most, he would explore for four more days; this was the bottom line he had planned.

Interestingly, just as he had made this decision, he made a discovery around noon.

At the time, he had paused by a large rock, intending to look around before choosing a spot to bury a small amount of food and water.

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

He had seen human bones once or twice along this journey; this place was extremely desolate and had once been a river with abundant water, so fish bones, turtle shells, and broken seashells could all be found—why couldn't there be human bones?

However, this skeleton was far too close to him, and there was something like an iron chain tied to the bones.

Feng Jun knew clearly that if this had been before he obtained his fortuitous encounter, encountering such a skeleton in the wilderness would have scared him half to death, and he certainly wouldn't have had the guts to step forward and examine it closely.

But now, he walked right up and kicked the skeleton, causing it to fall apart without feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable.

From this, it was evident that a person's courage is forged through experience; once you see enough of something, you become accustomed to it.

Even heroes are just ordinary people when seen often enough, and the same goes for skeletons.

The bones were severely weathered; it was already quite remarkable that they hadn't fallen apart in the perennial river winds, but now, after taking his kick, they immediately scattered in all directions.

The iron chain, however, remained quite sturdy and did not scatter.

"Hmm?" Feng Jun frowned, looking at the other end of the iron chain. It seemed to be tethered to something?

Actually, it was nothing much, just an irregular large rock, about the size of a human head and somewhat flat, but... this luster?