In his sleep, a subtle surge of internal energy began to transmute within him, causing a slight tremor.
As if sensing something, he reached down in a state between sleep and wakefulness. A few seconds later, Li Haochen abruptly sat up, switched on the corridor light, and lifted the covers to look. "Whoa..."
Having no spare clothes, he had to dash into the restroom and pull off a long section of toilet paper. He folded it several times, wiped himself, and then pressed down hard for a while.
The quality of the tissue paper was terrible; after just a few dabs, it was full of lint.
After washing up, he checked the time and realized it was only five in the morning. He had no choice but to head back early.
Grabbing his room key and the complimentary bottle of Nongfu Spring water, he hadn't taken more than a few steps when the sound of someone reciting Pinyin started up again nearby. Indeed, the early bird catches the worm. He figured the person hadn't stopped last night either, and by that calculation, he couldn't even count on one hand.
Seven times a night, a dream come true for many.
After checking out, he went to retrieve his car, only to find that someone had unplugged it and tossed it aside. "Thank goodness!"
Li Haochen walked over with a dark expression, inserted the key, and turned it. Seeing the three bars of battery life displayed on the screen, his expression finally improved.
Such bad behavior could not be tolerated.
Li Haochen stepped forward, directly unplugged the small electric scooter, and tossed it aside. He then clapped his hands, a slight smile of satisfaction on his face, and rode off on his "Little Aima."
It was still very dark at five or six in the morning. As he rode along, the streets were deserted, with only a few sanitation workers rushing to clean up the remnants of the previous night's revelry.
Once past Municipal Road, the scenery changed. Unlike the bustling city center, this area appeared much older, but the sense of everyday life was amplified.
Besides the sanitation workers, many busy figures were already at work under the tall mango trees lining the streets, wrapping dumplings, rolling out dough, frying youtiao and spring rolls… adding a touch of vibrancy to the quiet morning.
Li Haochen stopped beside a three-wheeled vehicle. Long rows of small steamers on the back were puffing out clouds of steam, and the aroma wafted towards him.
"Boss, two baskets of steamed buns and a cup of soy milk."
"Coming right up."
Opening early, the owner of the steamed bun stall was very happy.
Years of navigating the bustling markets had honed the owner's formidable Iron Sand Palm skills. The scorching steam that would intimidate others posed no threat to him; he easily retrieved two baskets from the bottom. When he brought them over, Li Haochen noticed a large, somewhat unevenly carved "忍" (rěn - endure) on his forearm, likely self-inflicted.
A man with a story!
These steamed buns were best eaten hot; they lost their flavor when cold. Dipping them in chili sauce made them even more delicious. One bite after another, followed by a sip of hot soy milk – a perfect combination. And it wasn't even expensive, just five yuan a basket, affordable and tasty.
Upon returning to the village, the sky was just turning pale, and he felt no sleepiness.
After a moment's thought, he went out to the small yard, grabbed a small bamboo basket and a pair of iron tongs, and headed towards the sea.
The tide was still going out, so it wasn't too late for foraging. Several figures were already visible, moving among the rocks in the distance.
There weren't many people foraging in the fishing village; most were the elderly who no longer went out to sea. The breadwinners were already out in the middle of the ocean at this hour. It was better to cast more nets than to scavenge for scraps.
In fact, the timing for foraging changed daily, and there were differences between small tides and spring tides. Those who didn't grow up by the sea would never know.
Only on the first or fifteenth day of the lunar month, when the sun, Earth, and moon were almost in a straight line, did the combined gravitational pull of the sun and moon act upon the seawater, causing a larger tidal range – what we call a spring tide.
Spring tides were the best time for foraging, although the few days around the first and fifteenth were also good. Small tides were passable, but afterward, opportunities were scarce.
It wasn't like before, when there were only a few fishing boats, and each foraging trip could yield a small bamboo basket.
Now? The sea was full of boats, and the nets were like sieves, passing layer after layer. How many could survive various tribulations to reach the shore? One needed immense patience and meticulousness to find even a meal's worth of catch.
Nowadays, besides serving as food, fish, shrimp, and crabs had taken on another profession: "actors."
It wasn't easy for them; they had to endure being posed and photographed ten or eight times under the blazing sun before returning to their original jobs.
Of course, the success of foraging was also closely related to experience. If you followed the experienced old fishermen, you were unlikely to go home empty-handed.
Today was a small tide day, so the tide didn't recede far, and the exposed rocks were not numerous. The harvest was expected to be meager.
Li Haochen walked in the opposite direction, moving very carefully. The rocks were covered in broken oyster shells, their insides scraped clean, presenting a stark white expanse that was quite daunting.
If he slipped, he was sure to lose a good portion of his flesh; it was extremely dangerous.
After walking for seven or eight minutes, he spotted a triangle crab in a crevice between the rocks, its claws raised in an aggressive posture. Finally, he didn't have to worry about going home empty-handed.
Crabs were not very intelligent; if you provoked them a few times, they would clamp down on you stubbornly.
Just as he expected, when Li Haochen extended the tongs and teased it a few times, it eagerly clamped down. He pushed forward slightly, and it clamped even tighter.
He couldn't pull it out too quickly; he had to do it slowly, gently moving the tongs every few seconds to maintain its aggression.
After several repetitions, the triangle crab was smoothly deposited into the bamboo basket. It was a decent size.
The sky gradually brightened. On the other side of the mountain, a fiery red emerged, and the sunlight reflecting off the sea was dazzling.
After digging out another three-pointed crab, Li Haochen returned the way he came.
Today's catch was quite good: over ten crabs and two sea bass that had been stunned and trapped in rock crevices. They weren't large, weighing just over a pound. There were also quite a few small filefish, only the size of a pinky finger. Too small, he couldn't be bothered to take them.
If he were raising pigs, he wouldn't let them go to waste. Cooked with sweet potato and leftover rice, they would make a great fattening meal. Unfortunately, even villages didn't raise pigs anymore.
He remembered when he was a child, if a family butchered a pig for the New Year, they would definitely get to eat fatty pork, and the taste was incredibly fragrant. Especially the offal, stewed in a large iron pot; the aroma could be smelled from a mile away.
He first took the fish and crabs to his uncle's house. Upon returning, he went inside for a bath. They had changed the gas yesterday, so he didn't have to do push-ups anymore.
After a hot shower, he felt refreshed.
Checking his watch, the time was just right. He figured it was time for someone to wake up. Li Haochen picked up his phone and initiated a call to Mo Ningke.
As the video connected, the first scene that greeted his eyes was somewhat unfathomable!