Treasure Hunter

A few days later.

The cold wind cut like knives across the snowfield, howling like gods and demons, fully displaying nature's piercing heavenly might.

A crude tent had been pitched in the sheltered lee behind a boulder. Even so, wisps of icy wind still slipped through the seams, drilling inside and making one feel chilled to the bone.

This was the Suge Snowfield, renowned across the entire world. Snow fell here year-round; there was only heavy snow and light snow. Every July and August, it became a forbidden zone for life, with temperatures dropping below minus fifty degrees Celsius.

Though the wind and snow were fierce now, the actual temperature was only a little over minus thirty degrees Celsius—not especially harsh.

At this moment, inside the tent, an iron bucket hung over a fiercely burning block of compressed solid fuel. Though only the size of a palm, it could burn for a full hour and was quite costly.

The snow water in the bucket had already boiled. Only after it had been left to bubble beneath the lid for a while was the lid lifted and a packet of compressed seasoning added.

At once, an aroma rose with the steam.

Afterward, Susan unhurriedly placed crushed compressed biscuits into the bucket. After ten minutes of simmering, a pot of rather abstract-looking dinner was ready.

Susan served each of the five people, herself included, a large bowl. Then she scooped some snow into the bucket before finally beginning the meal.

Zhao Cheng ate at an unhurried pace. Honestly, this boiled mush did not taste bad at all. Especially in a place like the snowfield, where the weather was so cold and the body burned through energy so quickly, any food came with an extra helping of deliciousness.

In a place like this,