I Was Just Asking—You Really Know?

Lin Yi and Red Fox stared at each other for more than a dozen breaths.

In those amber fox eyes, sharp glints flowed, and the corners of its mouth seemed to carry a faint, almost imperceptible curve.

The more Lin Yi looked, the more familiar that expression seemed. It was exactly like the subtle "Is that all?" smile his teammates used to wear when they watched his gameplay serve up a feast.

Damn it, he's laughing at me.

Lin Yi ground his teeth inwardly.

Though he really was a miserable sight right now—stark naked, having just lain unconscious on the ground with his butt in the air for who knew how long, looking like some unlucky bastard that had been gored by a wild boar and tossed aside.

Still, being mocked to his face by a fox—even if this fox was far from ordinary-looking—filled him with an indescribable irritation beneath his embarrassment.

But that's no reason for you to laugh at me.

Lin Yi glared at Red Fox, and Red Fox tilted its head and glared back.

A trace of lazy innocence actually flashed through those eyes, as though it were saying, I didn't do anything. You're the one being oversensitive.

Lin Yi drew a deep breath and forced down his irritation. What kind of promise was it to get worked up over a fox?

He pushed himself up from the ground. His bare feet stepped onto wet moss and rotting leaves, and the cold, rough sensation shot up from the soles of his feet.

Lin Yi lowered his head to inspect his naked body, then looked up and swept his gaze across the primeval forest around him, where the canopy blotted out the sky. His mind weighed the situation at high speed for three seconds.

"I can't keep going around naked. First, I need to make a grass skirt."

His mind might have been sharp, but there was one problem—he had never learned any sort of weaving.

Forget a grass skirt. Even when braiding hair, he only knew the simplest three-strand method, something he had accidentally picked up as a child while watching his mother comb his sister's hair.

Now, with his brain running at full speed, he could theoretically break down the structural principles of a grass skirt: stalks as warp threads, flexible vine bark as weft, layered atop one another to provide coverage.

But theory was theory. Hands were another matter entirely.

The first branch snapped with a crack when he had only bent it halfway.

The second attempt did not break, but the thing he wove came out loose and slack. After two shakes, it fell apart into a pile of grass blades.

Red Fox sat on a rock beside him the entire time, its head following the movements of Lin Yi's hands from side to side as it watched with great interest.

Its expression was exactly that of an audience member seated in the front row to watch a monkey show. All it lacked was a handful of sunflower seeds.

Lin Yi gritted his teeth. A third try. A fourth.

His Super Brain finally showed its true value at that moment—after every failure, he could precisely review where he had gone wrong, whether the winding angle was off or the point of force had not been pressed firmly enough, then swiftly correct it on the next attempt.

This nearly real-time iterative learning efficiency would have been sheer fantasy in the past.

The fifth attempt.

Lin Yi staggered broad, palm-like leaves layer by layer, fixed them in place with strips of flexible bark threaded through them, then wrapped two more loops around his waist to tighten it. If he wanted to put it nicely, the style was "primitive charm." If he wanted to put it bluntly, it was a pile of green leaves barely hanging around his waist and hips. But at least—everything that needed covering was covered.

Lin Yi patted the bizarre grass skirt on his body and let out a long breath.

"All right. It'll do for now."

Red Fox had been squatting there watching him fuss around for so long that it seemed to have developed aesthetic fatigue. It could not even be bothered to wag its tail anymore.

But when Lin Yi finally put on the grass skirt, stood up, and patted the leaves around his waist, the fox's eyes suddenly lit up.

It jumped down from the rock and began circling Lin Yi.

One circle, two circles, three circles.

Its crimson, fluffy tail brushed back and forth against Lin Yi's bare calves, carrying the warm scent of fur.

Lin Yi looked down at the fox wandering around him, suddenly feeling as if he were some exhibit being appraised.

"...Have you looked enough?"

Red Fox stopped and looked up at him. There seemed to be a hint of approval in its amber eyes.

Translated, that look probably meant: Mm, you finally look somewhat human.

Lin Yi did not know whether to laugh or cry.

He steadied himself and sorted out his current situation in his mind. He had transmigrated, was naked, his brain had become smarter, and there was a very suspicious fox beside him.

His most urgent need now was not figuring out why he had come here, but first finding out what kind of place this was, whether there were people here, and whether he could survive.

He cautiously crouched down and spoke to Red Fox. "Little fox, have you seen anyone similar to me? Uh... or rather, an animal?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Lin Yi himself felt stupid. A fox—no matter how intelligent it was—could not possibly understand human speech, could it?

But Red Fox's reaction left him rooted to the spot.

The fox tilted its head and looked at him. Its two pointed ears twitched slightly, and its gaze lingered on Lin Yi's face for several breaths, as though it were trying hard to understand the meaning of those human syllables.

Then it suddenly turned around, took seven or eight steps forward, stopped, and looked back.

Lin Yi remained where he was.

Seeing this, Red Fox actually raised one front paw and tapped it toward him twice.

The gesture was incredibly humanlike—it was clearly saying: Follow me.

"..." Lin Yi's brain could not quite process it. "I was just asking. You really know?"

Red Fox tapped its paw twice more, lifted its tail high, and turned to keep walking. Its pace was unhurried, carrying an assured calm, as though it were certain Lin Yi would follow.

Lin Yi hesitated for less than two seconds.

If he stayed—he would be naked, without food or direction, waiting to die in this unfathomable primeval forest.

If he followed a fox that was obviously no ordinary fox, one that had taken the initiative to lead the way, then at least he had one more path than waiting here to die.

"All right. Lead the way." Lin Yi stepped forward and followed it.

Red Fox did not walk quickly, but every step it took chose relatively easy ground, circling around thorny bushes and avoiding slick patches of moss. From time to time, it even stopped to wait for Lin Yi to catch up.

The farther Lin Yi followed, the more alarmed he became.

This was not a fox walking at all. This was clearly an experienced guide leading the way. Its familiarity with this terrain seemed etched into its bones as instinct.

After winding this way and that.

Lin Yi followed Red Fox through a patch of low shrubs, and the ground beneath his feet began climbing noticeably upward.

His breathing grew faster, but he did not become as breathless as he had expected.

After climbing the slope for a while, Lin Yi belatedly realized something he had overlooked earlier—his stamina seemed far better than before.

Back then, he stayed up late gaming, survived on takeout, and never exercised year-round. Climbing five flights of stairs would have him stopping twice to rest against the railing.

But now, following Red Fox as they scrambled up and down steep woodland slopes and covered so much ground, he was only breathing a little harder. His legs remained steady, and even when he stepped on loose stones and tree roots, he did not wobble in the slightest.

Had his body been strengthened while his brain awakened as well?

Lin Yi's heart stirred.

That cool spiritual energy that had surged into his mind before he fainted seemed to have not only transformed his brain, but also washed through this modern shut-in wreck of a body, oiling the once-rusted parts anew.

If not for that, with the half-crippled body he used to have, he might not have been able to keep up with this swift-footed little fox.

After walking for another quarter of an hour or so.

Red Fox stopped at the top of a gentle slope and sat on a protruding rock, its tail curled at its side as it looked back at Lin Yi.

Lin Yi climbed the last few steps and stood beside the fox, following its gaze forward.

Then his entire body froze.

In the relatively flat heart of the valley in the distance stood buildings of all sizes, scattered across the land.

Those buildings bore no trace of modernity. Rough gray stones formed low walls, logs made triangular roofs, and thick thatch and animal hides covered the tops.

Several wisps of smoke curled up from different places, dispersing into the clear afternoon sky.

Through the gaps between the buildings, he could vaguely see people moving about. They wore coarse linen or animal-hide clothing and had sturdy builds.

It looked like a tribe.

A genuine settlement in the style of a primitive tribe.

Lin Yi's heart suddenly sank, then suddenly leaped.

Every last bit of wishful thinking he had harbored was crushed to powder by the sight before him.

This was not a prank, not a variety show, not the kind of prank livestream where someone dragged him into the wilderness in the middle of the night. A settlement of that scale, built with such a sense of age—no artificial set could create that kind of natural, weathered antiquity.

He had truly transmigrated.

He had transmigrated to a strange, wholly unknown world where primitive tribes existed.

Lin Yi's throat went dry, and his fingertips turned faintly cold.

He stood there, watching the cooking smoke rising from the distant tribe and the slowly moving figures, countless thoughts churning through his mind, yet he could not say a single word.

Red Fox crouched by his feet and looked up at him.

Lin Yi lowered his head and met those amber fox eyes.

There was no mockery in them, no teasing. They were calm as a deep pool, quietly watching him.

Then Red Fox stood, stepped forward, and continued down the gentle slope. After taking a few steps, it looked back once more and tapped its paw toward him.

Follow me.

Lin Yi fell silent for a moment.

Something in the distant tribe flashed beneath the sunlight, like a glint off metal.

In that instant, his Super Brain caught the anomaly—the glint came from the top of an upright wooden pillar in the center of the tribe, where something hung.

It was too far away to make out the details, but Lin Yi could feel that thing facing directly toward him.

Like an eye.

Red Fox tapped its paw again, its urging far more obvious this time.

Lin Yi slowly withdrew his gaze and looked at the path leading down toward the tribe, then glanced once more at the fox waiting quietly for him.

A vague but powerful intuition suddenly rose within him. This fox had definitely not brought him here just because it happened to wander this way.

But he was already here.

Lin Yi took a step forward. The leaves of his grass skirt brushed against both sides of his thighs, making a faint rustling sound.

Seeing him move, Red Fox turned and continued leading the way, its fluffy tail swaying back and forth in the wind.

The wind from the valley surged upward, pouring into Lin Yi's nose and mouth.

That fresh spiritual energy washed over his brain again, bringing a faint tingling sensation.

And in his mind, that flash of light from the center of the tribe replayed again and again.