He walked over to a small tree by the stream, about as thick as a bowl, and reached out to break off a straight, sturdy branch about three feet long.
Then, out of habit, his right hand went to the small of his back—where a sheathed dagger rested quietly against his body.
He drew the dagger. Its sheath was dark green, made from some kind of tough, tanned leather, and felt cool to the touch.
The handle was about five inches long, plain and unadorned, without a single fancy flourish.
He nudged it with his thumb. With a barely audible rasp, the dagger slid from its sheath.
The blade, about seven inches long, emerged into the open air. In an instant, it seemed as though a pool of condensed autumn water had spilled forth. The blade was razor-thin, almost transparent, and beneath the sunlight filtering through the leaves, a restrained, chilling jade-green sheen flowed across it.
The White Tiger Dagger.
Huo Yuhao's gaze fell on the blade. Its icy green light reflected in his dark eyes, instantly igniting the seething fury buried deep in his pupils.
In both his past and present lives, the dagger's nominal owner had been that man—the man who had given him life, yet brought endless pain and humiliation to him and his mother, and indirectly caused her death: Dai Hao!
Images from his past life flashed through his mind: he had gripped the White Tiger Dagger and, without hesitation, plunged it into Dai Hao's heart.
He could still remember the faint sensation of the blade entering flesh and touching bone. He could still remember the mixture of pain, disbelief, and something too complex to name that had crossed Dai Hao's face in his final moments.
"Phew..."
Huo Yuhao slowly exhaled, forcing down the churning rage and memories.
He picked up the three-foot branch and swung the White Tiger Dagger. A flash of green light, and the blade sliced through the end of the branch like it was the softest tofu, meeting no resistance at all.
Wood shavings flew. After just a few strokes, the branch's end had been whittled into a sharp, smooth wooden spearpoint.
Once he had finished making his "spear," Huo Yuhao took off his worn cloth shoes, rolled up his trouser legs, and stepped barefoot into the cool stream.
The water was shallow, reaching only to his knees. Tiny pebbles covered the streambed. They dug into his soles a little, but gave him firm footing.
He steadied himself, simple spear in hand, and fixed his gaze on the green fish swimming along the streambed, aided by Spirit Detection.
Though Spirit Detection's range was limited, in such a still environment, it let him clearly "see" the position of each fish, its path through the water, and even the minute tremors of its muscles.
A plump green fish swished its tail leisurely as it approached a clump of water plants.
Huo Yuhao's wrist flicked, and the spear stabbed into the water like lightning!
"Whoosh!"
A small splash, and the spear pierced the fish cleanly, pinning it to the streambed.
The fish thrashed violently, but it was no use.
Huo Yuhao kept moving, his wrist flicking again and again.
"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"
Several more strikes, swift as could be.
Each strike landed at just the right moment, anticipating where the fish would dodge and hitting its mark with precision.
In just a few breaths, Huo Yuhao had speared more than a dozen green fish of similar size, all still wriggling.
For him, with Spirit Detection to assist and countless brushes with death in his past life, his sense of timing and angles had become instinctive. Spearing fish in this shallow stream was child's play.
Huo Yuhao carried the simple spear, threaded with green fish, back to the bank barefoot.
Cold water ran down his calves, leaving damp footprints on the pebbles.
First, he stuck the spear into the soft earth nearby, then took out the White Tiger Dagger, its blade gleaming with flowing green light.
Cleaning a catch was a basic skill he knew all too well, having spent years adventuring outdoors and doing everything himself.
In his hand, the sharp White Tiger Dagger seemed to come alive.
He pinched a green fish whose gill covers were still opening and closing. The dagger flashed, shaving off its silvery scales in swift, fluid strokes, without a single wasted movement.
Next, he deftly opened its belly with the tip of the blade. A turn of his wrist, and the innards came out intact; with another smooth stroke, he removed the gills and bloodline.
A rinse in the clear stream, and the fish was cleanly prepared.
Swish, swish, swish—
The faint sounds of blade slicing through air and fish flesh rang out without pause.
Huo Yuhao's movements were steady and efficient, as if he were not preparing food but performing some precise carving.
In less than a quarter of an hour, all the plump green fish had been cleaned and neatly arranged on a broad, washed leaf. Their flesh was pale and clean, with a fresh sheen.
He straightened up and stretched his slightly aching back, then began gathering fuel in the nearby woods.
Soon he returned with an armful of dry twigs and fallen leaves.
He chose a spot sheltered from the wind and well away from anything flammable. With a few stones, he made a simple ring, then broke the twigs and stacked them inside.
His abundant outdoor experience from his past life meant he needed no fire starter. By rubbing two dry sticks of just the right hardness together, he soon coaxed a little orange flame into life with a soft puff. It licked at the kindling and quickly grew into a small, steady campfire.
The leaping firelight illuminated his youthful, tender features, which were nevertheless unusually composed.
From the worn but tidy little bundle he carried, he took out the only seasonings he had: a small packet of coarse salt wrapped carefully in oiled paper, and a few perilla leaves he had gathered in the woods a few days earlier and dried for later use.
Huo Yuhao found a few thicker branches and used the White Tiger Dagger to whittle them into simple Y-shaped supports, which he planted in the ground on either side of the fire.
Then he selected several straight, slender twigs of hard wood and sharpened one end of each. He threaded the cleaned fish onto them through the mouth.
Next, he pinched up a little salt and rubbed it evenly inside the fish bellies, then stuffed in the washed, torn perilla leaves.
Simple seasoning, but enough to bring out the fish's natural flavor and remove any possible earthy taste.
He set the skewered fish on the supports and began turning them at an unhurried pace.
The flames gently licked the fish. Fat slowly rendered and dripped into the fire with a soft sizzle. Along with the wisps of smoke, a rich, distinctive roasted aroma began to spread through the woods by the stream.
The scent was not especially complex, but it had a primal, irresistible magic to it. Mingled with the freshness of perilla and the rich aroma of roasted fish protein, it seemed to stir the soul's deepest hunger.
Huo Yuhao watched the fish intently, controlling the heat and adjusting their angle from time to time so every side cooked evenly.
Under his slow, steady turning, the fish's bluish-white skin gradually took on an enticing golden hue. The outside grew crisp while the juices remained sealed within, and the aroma grew ever more intense.
Just then—
His Spirit Detection, which he had kept running at the bare minimum, keenly picked up faint sounds from nearby: footsteps and the low murmur of people talking.
At nearly the same moment, a clear, delighted cry rang out:
"That smells amazing!"
Huo Yuhao's hands paused for a moment, then resumed their usual rhythm.
He calmly raised his head and looked in the direction of the voice.
Two people were walking side by side along the stream from upstream.
The one in front was a young girl, apparently about fifteen or sixteen. She had a slender figure and brimmed with youthful energy.
She wore a well-fitted pale blue outfit that accentuated her graceful curves. Her long black hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, swaying lightly behind her as she walked.
She was exceptionally beautiful, with a classic oval face and a delicate, upturned nose. Most striking were her large, lively phoenix eyes, now sparkling with delight at the smell of roasted fish. Her gaze was fixed on the golden fish in Huo Yuhao's hands, and the tip of her rosy tongue unconsciously licked her lips. She looked utterly adorable, practically drooling.
Following behind the girl was a boy about her age.
He was tall and slender, nearly a head taller than the girl. His short, deep-blue hair was neatly trimmed, and the sunlight filtering through the leaves seemed to bring out a gentle, sapphire-like luster.
The boy was handsome, with an air of scholarly refinement. A lazy, warm smile played at his lips, giving him a relaxed, easygoing air.
His hands were casually clasped behind his head. His gaze swept over the roasted fish, then lingered more on Huo Yuhao, who was cooking it, curiosity and appraisal in his eyes.
Before you continue