Chapter Four: The Brown Bear

He waited until noon, and only then did the blizzard outside finally begin to subside. This delay had cost him half a day. In the early stages, time was precious—only by making the most of every minute and second could Qin Fei greatly improve his chances of survival in this place.

He pushed open the door and set out toward the location of the hunter’s cabin he remembered. The blizzard’s fierce winds had snapped branches from the trees, scattering them across the ground. As he walked, Qin Fei gathered these twigs, knowing how valuable fuel was—especially when he had no axe.

Aside from the lingering cold, he didn’t encounter any gray wolves along the way, which was a small mercy.

Before reaching the hunter’s cabin, Qin Fei passed through a birch grove. Some of the birch trees had shed their outer bark, so he collected the fallen pieces. Birch bark could be used as medicine—cooling in nature, suitable for external application or soaking in water—a truly precious material.

After gathering what he could, Qin Fei found himself shivering from the cold. Just as he planned to hurry on toward the hunter’s cabin, he suddenly stopped.

Not far ahead, a bear was lumbering through the snow.

It was a North American brown bear. Among bear species, these arctic-dwelling brown bears were second in size only to polar bears—one of the largest of their kind!

If confronted by wolves, he might stand a fighting chance, but an encounter with a bear was almost certain death.

Fortunately, this bear seemed uninterested in him, wandering on its own path and paying no mind to Qin Fei in the distance.

But just because the bear ignored him now didn’t mean it wouldn’t attack if he got closer.

He’d have to detour.

Qin Fei retreated about a hundred meters, then turned to circle to his right.

As luck would have it, the wind picked up again—another blast of the blizzard, as if the earlier storm had returned in force.

The storm brought more than just obstacles to movement; it also meant lower temperatures.

He was starting to shiver uncontrollably, his whole body trembling—a sign that he was on the verge of freezing stiff.

He couldn’t go on. Avoiding the brown bear had forced him to take a longer route. He knew that if he continued toward the hunter’s cabin, he’d freeze to death before he arrived.

Just then, he spotted a dilapidated hut not far away.

The hut had no roof; the floor was covered in snow, and the walls let in the wind. In one corner, there was an old stove.

Beside this stove, Qin Fei was lucky enough to find a knife. But this was no time for celebration—he had to light a fire at once to warm himself up.

His body was already so cold that he felt a deceptive warmth—a dangerous illusion caused by his core temperature dropping, with all remaining heat concentrating around his heart and brain.

With numb hands, he pulled some firewood from his backpack and fed it into the stove.

But it was outdoors, and the temperature was so low that each match he struck quickly went out.

Was this really happening?

He curled into a ball to reduce his exposure and slow heat loss, then struck another match.

The flame flared briefly, then died.

Damn it, not now!

Cursing inwardly, he tried again.

In such cold, it was difficult to start a fire at all.

After many attempts, a tiny flame finally took hold inside the stove, gradually growing stronger.

Soon, Qin Fei could feel the warmth radiating from the stove and breathed a sigh of relief. He opened his status screen.

[Frostbite Risk 22%: You have spent too long in the cold. This may cause permanent frostbite. Staying in a warm environment for a while will allow recovery.]

Frostbite risk…

Qin Fei realized his perceived body temperature was probably below zero. The so-called “apparent temperature” is the difference felt by the skin after dressing and lighting a fire; if it’s above zero, the body starts to warm up—if it’s below, the body continues to lose heat.

This broken-down hut offered little insulation. Even with a fire in the stove, the cold persisted.

But Qin Fei had an idea.

He quickly took out a metal can from his backpack, poured in some drinking water, and set it on the stove to heat.

He also added a packet of herbal tea he’d scavenged earlier.

In extreme cold, drinking hot water or tea could help warm the body somewhat.

Of course, this would only prevent him from freezing to death outright—the risk of frostbite remained, since his skin was still exposed to the cold. The tea only provided internal warmth.

After two cans of tea and the warmth from the stove, Qin Fei felt a little better.

Dusk was falling. He stood up and left. He couldn’t linger here—he needed to reach the hunter’s cabin before nightfall.

Enduring the bitter cold, Qin Fei pressed on and finally arrived at the hunter’s cabin as darkness settled.

Outside the cabin, in a woodshed, he found three fir logs. Beside them lay the carcass of a deer, long dead.

Qin Fei was elated—such a find was a stroke of luck!

Though most of the meat had been picked clean by wolves, crows, and other scavengers, there was enough left to fill his belly.

In the freezing cold, the deer’s body had not decayed or attracted maggots; the meat was fresh, only stiff from the cold—perfectly edible.

Since the deer had been almost entirely eaten by other animals, its weight wasn’t much. Qin Fei dragged it easily back inside the cabin.

By then, night had fallen completely.

He lit the stove, set his metal can on it to melt snow for water, and, by the faint firelight, began to butcher the deer with the knife he’d found earlier.

Most of the deer’s internal organs had already been devoured by predators, but some intestines remained. Qin Fei cut them out and hung them in the cabin to dry.

Once fully dried, they could be made into sinew—tough and versatile for many uses.

He also tried to skin the deer as carefully as possible, keeping the hide intact.

He still had a sewing kit in his backpack and could use the deer hide to craft warm clothing.

This species was the North American caribou, native to the Arctic. Its pelt would make excellent, warm attire.

As for the meat, Qin Fei managed to cut off about one and a half kilograms—enough to provide over a thousand kilocalories, nearly a day’s requirement for an adult.

He roasted the meat over the stove and ate it directly.

Without salt or oil, the venison was dry, bland, and slightly burnt—but it filled his stomach.

Venison is heavier than other foods in his pack for the same caloric value, and it spoils more easily, so he chose to eat it first.

While butchering the deer, he also collected some blood, storing it in a bottle to drink a little each day.

Though animal blood tastes unpleasant and can cause nausea, ancient humans used it to supplement salt—a method that, for now, was Qin Fei’s best option for replenishing this vital nutrient.