Chapter 15

Perhaps it was fate that didn’t intend to abandon them entirely. The heavens, seeing how hard life was for the two brothers, extended a slight mercy, a thread of hope for them to grasp onto.

Although it took numerous attempts, their efforts at fishing in the river finally brought them an abundant catch.

Now, the river’s surface was completely frozen over. Zhuo Yan had previously gone upstream to check, only to find not a single fish. He thought he might have better luck near the narrower stretch of the river. So, he took a detour, arriving at this narrower part where the ice appeared thick and solid. Carefully, Zhuo Yan crouched near the edge of the river and tried to break through the ice with a sturdy wooden stick, but despite a few jabs, it didn’t give way.

Increasing his strength, he finally heard the satisfying crack as the ice splintered open. Excited, Zhuo Yan bent down, enlarging the opening a little more with his hands. He waited, hoping for a fish to come by—but after a long wait, nothing appeared.

Instead, he ended up shivering from the intense cold, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

It was clear now how different the weather was compared to the first month of winter. Back then, he would go out daily, bundled in a thick fur coat. Although chilly, it wasn’t as piercing as it was now, with the wind slicing through him like a knife straight to the bone.

Zhuo Yan rubbed his hands together for warmth, thinking to himself that it might soon be too cold to go outside. They’d have to rely on melted snow for water. Fortunately, this world seemed untainted by pollution, so the melted snow could be boiled, settled, and would suffice for washing and cooking.

But… with the meat supply running low, would they really be stuck eating potatoes every day for the next month?

He didn’t mind too much himself, but A-Yin needed to replenish his strength. Zhuo Yan mentally lamented, “What a caring big brother I am!”

After waiting by the hole in the ice for a long time, Zhuo Yan’s body grew numb from the cold. He hurried to his feet, trying to shake off the stiffness, rubbing his wrists and joints. Glancing back at the hole, he saw nothing had changed—still no fish. Resigned, he picked up his empty bucket and started on his way home.

…As he walked, his mind lingered on A-Yin, and then he looked at the empty bucket in his hand. Reluctant to give up, he cast one more glance back at the usual fishing spot on the river, stubbornness setting in, like scratching a lottery ticket and hoping for a win.

One last time.

One final attempt—if there’s still no catch, he’d just have to give up (not that he’d literally chop off his hand!).

Determined, Zhuo Yan returned to the river. This spot was wider and closer to home. Gazing at the thick ice covering the river, he murmured, “Dear fish, you have to understand that it’s not easy for us two brothers to survive. This year, I need to catch you, but come spring, I’ll be sure to feed you some worms and bugs. I promise.”

The ice here was especially thick, both wide and solid. Remembering his earlier efforts, Zhuo Yan threw his heavy fur coat onto the bank for safekeeping. He gathered his courage and cautiously made his way to the middle of the river. There, he carefully crouched down and began chipping at the ice with the wooden stick, bit by bit.

When he finally heard the telltale cracking, Zhuo Yan slowly, carefully backed up a few steps to stabilize himself. Observing that the cracks weren’t spreading, he let out a small sigh of relief. He crouched back down and started to clear the opening with his hands.

Snow began to fall again.

Zhuo Yan, wearing only a vest and a leather skirt, braved the icy wind and snow. He had left the fur coat behind because he didn’t want to risk it getting soaked if he fell in—once wet, it would only be heavier and harder to manage, and there wasn’t any spare winter gear at home. So, with nothing to shield him from the cold, he stood there, teeth clenched, enduring the bitter winter weather as he waited.

Luckily—

“Fish!”

After waiting what felt like either seconds or minutes (it was impossible to tell in the biting cold), Zhuo Yan’s frozen state was suddenly swept away by a wave of excitement as he saw fish swarming to the surface of the hole. In that moment, a surge of warmth spread through his chest, melting away the chill. His hands and feet sprang to action on instinct, reaching down to grab fish.

There were so many fish.

Zhuo Yan quickly filled one entire bucket, emptied it into the woven basket he’d left on the riverbank, and filled another bucket to the brim. When the fish finally thinned out, with none appearing even after a long wait, Zhuo Yan was starting to feel the intense cold seep into his bones. His limbs were growing numb and stiff, so he climbed out of the river. Wrapping himself in his fur coat, he hurried home, heart pounding with excitement.

By now, the sky had darkened again. During winter, it was rare to see sunlight, with the skies often blanketed in an endless gray, casting an icy glow over the snow. For many, such weather might bring a sense of gloom, but Zhuo Yan felt nothing of the sort.

Inside the cave was A-Yin.

Now, with his load full and spirits high, Zhuo Yan returned home, carrying the woven basket on his back and a bucket in his hand. As he reached the cave entrance, he heard A-Yin making soft, whimpering sounds.

“It’s me, I’m back,” Zhuo Yan called out, both hands still holding the heavy bucket. The journey home had been challenging, with deep snow and an uphill climb, leaving him breathless and forced to use both hands for support. But finally, he was home.

He set down the bucket and basket near the kitchen area and shook off the snow clinging to his coat before closing the door behind him.

A-Yin lay on the stone bed, still too weak to move. As Zhuo Yan busied himself with his tasks, he spoke to A-Yin with a reassuring tone. “I’m fine. And I brought back a lot of fish! I think there’s still one white-horned ox bone left. I’ll use that to make broth, and we’ll have fish balls for dinner.”

That white-horned ox bone had actually been boiled once already, but Zhuo Yan hadn’t been willing to eat the bits of meat still clinging to it, thinking he could stretch it a bit further. As long as it added some flavor, that would be enough.

These fish, at least, would last them a month.

After shaking the snow off his coat, Zhuo Yan could feel the chill just standing by the door. The cave wasn’t as warm as it had been before, so he glanced at the wooden door and said, “Let’s hang that big fur over the doorway for now. It’s too dirty to use as a blanket. Tonight, we’ll just squeeze together and share one cover, and I’ll give it a good wash when spring comes.”

When he finished speaking, he didn’t hear a response and couldn’t resist looking over at A-Yin—and immediately found himself amused.

There on the stone bed, A-Yin’s ears were perked up, his blue eyes focused intently on Zhuo Yan. When he noticed Zhuo Yan watching him, he let out a small, soft cry and gave a little shake of his head.

Zhuo Yan: !!!

Heh heh heh.

It was still early to start cooking, so he decided to take a little break. Reaching out with what could only be called mischievous hands, Zhuo Yan moved over to the bed. Using the excuse of checking A-Yin’s wounds, he started giving him a good petting session. A-Yin behaved sweetly, even rolling over to expose his belly so that Zhuo Yan could rub it—sharing his warmth with his older brother.

The exhaustion from a morning spent laboring through snow, ice, and wind melted away in an instant, replaced by a sense of joy and renewed energy. Zhuo Yan gave A-Yin’s ears a little scratch, noticing how different they were from the rounded ears of a leopard; A-Yin’s were rounded yet had a slight point, and his fur had grown longer too. Honestly, sleeping together under one blanket with such “natural fur” was exceptionally cozy.

So, that large fur was hung up over the doorway before they went to sleep.

Now, Zhuo Yan still had plenty of tasks ahead. He needed to prepare the fish. Instead of going back to the river for water, he boiled some snow. Carefully, he scaled and gutted the fish, taking extra caution not to puncture the gallbladder. He prepared all the fish in one go, so they’d only need to thaw them out when they were ready to eat.

At night, Zhuo Yan planned to place the fish in the woven basket at the entrance; the temperature there was a bit lower.

As he worked, the strong smell of fish clung to him, prompting A-Yin on the stone bed to let out soft whines. Zhuo Yan chuckled and said, “Just wait a moment; I’ll carry you over.”

He picked A-Yin up and laid him on the dirty fur spread out on the ground.

A-Yin nudged Zhuo Yan’s hand with his nose, a sign of affection that Zhuo Yan understood. In response, he playfully ruffled A-Yin’s fur, and A-Yin licked his fingers in return. Zhuo Yan couldn’t help but feel amused. “We’ll cook the fish before eating; I’m worried that raw fish might upset your stomach.”

A-Yin wasn’t really asking for food; he just instinctively wanted to be close to his brother. Realizing Zhuo Yan had misunderstood, he gently rested his head on Zhuo Yan’s palm. Zhuo Yan gave him another affectionate rub and said, “Alright, just lie down and warm yourself by the fire.”

“Ao woo,” A-Yin responded softly, obediently sitting up and gazing at his brother.

Zhuo Yan collected the fish entrails and scales, contemplating setting traps as he usually did. It had been over half a month since he had caught anything, but he figured it was worth a shot. After all, he couldn’t leave the leftovers in the house; he was concerned they might attract unwanted creatures.

By the time Zhuo Yan finished processing all the fish, the cold wind and heavy snow outside had already obscured any sense of time. He first picked up one fish, which was impressively large and plump—at least five or six pounds. He thought for a moment; A-Yin had a good appetite lately and was still in the process of healing. Logically, he shouldn’t be eating fish, but there was no other meat at home.

So, he grabbed another fish.

Zhuo Yan began deboning the fish. Sticking to his usual routine, he planned to use the fish head and taro to make a soup, which they could have tomorrow. Today, he would prepare a beef bone broth to cook the fish balls. Even at this late hour, he wasn’t going to waste any edible scraps.

Near the fire, a few large potatoes were buried in the embers. As he finished chopping the fish meat, he pulled the roasted potatoes out, letting them cool before peeling the skin off. He mixed the potatoes with the fish meat in a large bowl, stirring and mashing them until they formed a sticky, cohesive mixture. The pot of bone broth was boiling, ready for the fish balls.

Outside, the howling wind and swirling snow created a loud, blustery atmosphere.

A-Yin perked up his ears, listening intently for a moment before turning his head back to Zhuo Yan. His deep blue eyes shone with warmth and eagerness as he rested his front paws on his brother’s leg. A-Yin had never experienced such a life before—his brother cared for him deeply, cooking meals and looking after him. Every day, Zhuo Yan would pet him and compliment him for being beautiful and adorable.

To A-Yin, his brother was the best brother in the world.

He had a brother.

Even when it hurt, A-Yin would endure it because he wanted to live together with Zhuo Yan. Even if his stomach grumbled with hunger, he was determined to stay by his brother’s side, though he didn’t want Zhuo Yan to go hungry.

A pot of fragrant bone broth with fish balls was finally ready.

Zhuo Yan served A-Yin a bowl of food and noticed that A-Yin was nudging his hand with his paw. He paused for a moment, surprised. “Is that enough?” he asked. No way! Looking at the small amount in the bowl, he realized it was barely a spoonful. So, he scooped another spoonful for A-Yin.

“Eat up, eat up! There’s plenty today.”

The two fish he had prepared had yielded at least six or seven pounds of meat after removing the bones and heads, so there was certainly enough. Zhuo Yan had cooked a large pot, thinking that he could reheat it for breakfast the next day.

A-Yin looked up at his brother, tilting his head slightly and not starting to eat right away. Zhuo Yan quickly understood what was happening. “I’ll eat too.” He served himself two spoonfuls. If he didn’t eat, A-Yin wouldn’t eat either. He blew on the hot broth to cool it down before taking a sip.

So fresh, so delicious.

The fish balls had a rich texture due to the added mashed potatoes and fish skin. The fish skin was slightly chewy, while the mashed potatoes were soft and creamy. Combined with the delightful flavor of the fish meat, it was truly delightful.

Zhuo Yan took a big bite, then glanced down at A-Yin. Seeing his brother eating, A-Yin began to eat as well.

Inside the cave, the only sound was the soft noise of eating. After A-Yin finished his portion, Zhuo Yan served him another two spoonfuls while taking one for himself. He gently patted A-Yin’s head and said, “We can’t fill our bellies too much right now. With the soup and fish balls, we should be about seventy to eighty percent full, which is fine.”

“Eat up,” he encouraged.

“If there’s nothing to eat later, we’ll have to tighten our belts a little. You still haven’t fully healed from your injury.”

A-Yin was still thin enough for Zhuo Yan to easily carry him.

A-Yin listened to his brother’s words, nudging Zhuo Yan’s hand with his head. Zhuo Yan smiled happily and absentmindedly rubbed A-Yin’s ears, which were truly delightful to touch!

At night, the large hide hung behind the door provided an extra layer of warmth. Zhuo Yan carried A-Yin to the stone bed, placing a hide beneath them. A-Yin snuggled into the corner, allowing his brother to rest on the hide. Zhuo Yan didn’t refuse and simply said, “Come a bit closer; let’s sleep together. You’re nice and warm.” It was the truth.

A-Yin’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he pawed his way closer to Zhuo Yan.

The firewood in the cave had long gone out, and now, in the night, Zhuo Yan chose not to light another fire to conserve resources. Instead, he nestled closely against A-Yin to keep warm. A-Yin’s fur had grown quickly, fluffy and warm.

“No wonder they say it’s tough for the beastmen and sub-beastmen to get through the winter,” Zhuo Yan remarked, filled with a sense of understanding.

The fluffy fur was indeed a miracle for keeping warm.

A-Yin perked up his ears, and in the darkness, his keen blue eyes could see everything around him. He carefully extended his tongue and gently touched Zhuo Yan’s hair. Upon noticing his brother looking up, he quickly retracted his tongue.

Zhuo Yan raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “What was that? Did I just feel a breeze on my head for a moment?”

But now, the sensation was gone. It was time to sleep. Zhuo Yan nestled closely against A-Yin, creating a snug barrier against the cold. The hide they used as a blanket was a bit small, forcing them to sleep tightly pressed against each other. After a long day of hard work, fatigue settled in, and as he drifted off, he murmured, “A-Yin, move in closer so you don’t catch a cold…”

A-Yin responded by gently pressing his nose against Zhuo Yan’s cheek.

“Ah-woo,” he made a soft sound, affirming his brother’s concern.

That night, Zhuo Yan slept exceptionally well, feeling warm and cozy. When he woke up the next morning, he realized that the ‘blanket’ was entirely over him, and A-Yin was using his body to wrap him in an embrace—no wonder it was so warm.

As Zhuo Yan stirred awake, he noticed that A-Yin was also waking up.

“Are you cold? You shouldn’t do that anymore,” Zhuo Yan said, pulling the blanket over A-Yin. “You can rest a bit longer; I’ll go heat up some food and get some snow.”

A-Yin made a soft whimpering sound, obediently curling up under the fur to show his brother he was listening well.

Zhuo Yan reached out to scratch A-Yin’s ears. However, when he put on his small leather skirt and jacket and stepped onto the ground, he immediately felt the cold—a sharp contrast to the warmth he had just experienced. It was especially frigid as he moved toward the living area. He referred to the area where the embedded stone bed was, which did not face the front door, as the bedroom, while the living room was directly connected to the entrance.

“It seems like the temperature has dropped,” he remarked.

Not just ‘seems like’; it had plummeted suddenly.

The hide that Zhuo Yan had hung behind the door was now frozen stiff. As he took it down, he felt the bone-chilling air seeping through the gaps in the wooden door. When he opened the door, he realized something was wrong; it was already too late. The door creaked ominously, and as he swung it open, a rush of cold air swept in along with a pile of snow that had built up to waist height.

Outside, everything was a vast white expanse, and the wind howled fiercely, making it nearly impossible to keep his eyes open.

Fishing was out of the question now.

Zhuo Yan quickly realized the severity of the situation. He had assumed that he could still go out later, but he was taken aback by how rapidly the temperature had dropped. Today, he needed to clear the snow from the cave entrance; otherwise, it would collapse under the weight and damage his door.

Moreover, the bucket of fish scraps he had accumulated yesterday was now impossible to bury. Forget about setting traps—there was no way he could break the ice to catch fish now. At that moment, Zhuo Yan couldn’t help but feel grateful for his persistence and stubbornness the day before. If he hadn’t managed to bring back those fish, he and A-Yin would have been stuck eating nothing but potatoes for the next twenty or thirty days.

First things first: he needed to clear the snow from the entrance.

Meanwhile, A-Yin was making an effort to help. He stretched out his paws, trying to lift his frail body. He wanted to join his brother in clearing the snow.

With determination, A-Yin managed to prop himself up a couple of times, but he would inevitably fall back onto the stone bed. After several attempts, he finally managed to stand unsteadily, trembling slightly as he steadied himself.