A daily intelligence report; in chaotic times and famine years, grain is plentiful.

Chen Mo frowned.

The tubers from the graveyard? Does anyone know if they're poisonous?

Holly bark? That stuff is only good for filling your stomach; eating too much of it can cause problems.

Only fish is a true food source and a high-quality protein.

However, the risks are also significant.

The sounds and sounds of ice fishing.

He recalled the feeling of being spied on that afternoon.

Right now, survival is the priority, but obtaining food is equally urgent.

He gritted his teeth.

I gambled.

Choose option two!

The image that comes to mind is this: on the wide river, beneath a piece of ice, you can see dense clusters of dark shadows slowly moving.

Chen Mo immediately got up and began searching for tools.

He needed a chisel, or something sharp, to break through that thick ice.

As dawn approached, the snow finally stopped.

Chen Mo found some hemp rope and rags. His hands were frozen stiff in the cold, but he still skillfully wove a simple net bag.

Chen Dashan watched him busy himself and coughed twice: "The ice on the river is quite thick, your tools probably won't be of much use."

"We have to give it a try."

"If you don't try, you'll end up with nothing."

Chen Mo picked up the hunting bow from the corner of the wall and carefully examined the two arrows.

Before leaving, he added a lot of water to the small amount of rabbit soup left over from last night, boiled it, and first gave his father and sister some warm soup.

Chen Ling'er only sipped half a bowl before saying she was full.

Chen Mo knew that she wanted to save something for herself, so he didn't say anything more and finished the rest of the soup in one go.

……

Qingshui River.

The entire river surface was covered by a thick layer of ice. Following the image provided by the system, Chen Mo found the bend in the river.

The water flow here is relatively gentle, so theoretically the ice layer should be thinner.

He found a good spot, picked up the wooden awl, and thrust it forcefully into the ice.

"clang!"

Only a faint white dot remained on the ice.

Chen Mo frowned.

He took off his tattered cotton-padded coat, leaving him in only a single layer of clothing. If the coat got wet with sweat, he would feel very cold if he didn't move for a while.

He changed his posture, gripped the wooden awl tightly with both hands, and smashed it down with all his might.

After a dozen or so attempts, a crack finally appeared on the ice.

There is a play.

Chen Mo perked up and continued smashing.

It took him a full half hour to finally carve out an ice hole the size of a bowl.

He immediately lay down on the ice and cautiously peered into the cave.

Chen Mo slowly lowered the woven net into the water, where it gently swayed.

He sat beside the ice hole, took out half of a frozen, rock-hard wild vegetable dumpling from his pocket, and slowly chewed it.

He suddenly remembered hearing from the village elders that when fishing on the ice in winter, you can't just dig one hole; you have to dig several. Because the fish lack oxygen, they will swim towards the hole to breathe.

But he doesn't even have the strength to smash it one more time.

About fifteen minutes later, Chen Mo lowered the net down again.

This time, he felt the rope of the net be gently touched.

A thought struck him, and he quickly picked up the net.

A splash of water.

A crucian carp the size of a palm was jumping around in the net.

It became.

Chen Mo's heart pounded, and he quickly poured the fish into the wooden bucket he had brought. He had deliberately put a little water at the bottom of the bucket to prevent the fish from freezing as soon as they were brought out.

The fish wasn't very big, maybe four ounces at most, but it was enough to make a bowl of life-saving soup for my father and sister.

Just then.

"Click."

A faint sound of ice cracking came from beneath my feet.

Chen Mo froze.

He dared not make any big moves, so he moved his body very slowly, little by little, keeping a distance from the fragile ice cave.

He had just relaxed a little when he suddenly caught a glimpse of something darting out of the woods on the opposite bank.

They were two stray dogs.

He was so thin he looked like skin and bones, with his ribs clearly visible, and his bright green eyes were fixed on Chen Mo on the ice and the wooden bucket beside him.

Chen Mo instinctively gripped the hunting bow beside him.

But his hands, which had been working and were now stiff from the cold wind, were so cold that he could barely hold the bow, let alone draw the bowstring.

The wild dogs are getting closer.

Chen Mo took a deep breath of the cold air, forcing himself to calm down.

He nocked an arrow, bit his glove with his teeth, and with great effort, barely managed to pull the bowstring halfway.

"Whoosh!"

The arrow was shot.

But the aim was far off, and it thudded into the ice a few steps in front of the wild dog.

The two stray dogs were startled, stopped in their tracks, and cautiously took a few steps back, but did not leave.

Chen Mo knew that if this arrow hadn't scared them off, the next attack would likely be fatal. If they pounced, the ice beneath their feet would certainly not be able to withstand it.

He quickly drew his second arrow.

This time, he didn't aim at the stray dogs themselves, but at the ice at their feet!

He drew the bow again with all his might.

The arrow struck near the paw of one of the wild dogs.

The stray dog ​​was completely terrified by this sudden turn of events. It let out a panicked yelp, tucked its tail between its legs, turned and ran into the woods, disappearing from sight in an instant.

Chen Mo went limp, only then realizing that the back of his shirt was soaked with cold sweat.

A gust of wind blew, and he was so cold that his teeth were chattering.

After being startled like that, the fish probably scattered long ago.

Chen Mo was unwilling to give up and waited by the ice cave for another half hour, but all he caught were two small fish that were only the length of a finger.

He tallied his catch for the day: a crucian carp weighing about four ounces and two small miscellaneous fish weighing less than two ounces in total.

In total, less than a pound.

Compared to the physical exertion and risks he faced, the gains were indeed negligible.

But he was still very careful to put the fish in the container and cover the mouth of the wooden bucket with snow to prevent anyone from seeing it.

When Chen Mo passed by Li Laogen's house at the west end of the village, he hesitated for a moment, but still went over and knocked on the door.

The door opened, and there stood Li Laogen.

His complexion was ashen, his lips were chapped, and he looked even more haggard than yesterday.

Chen Mo didn't say anything, but took a small fish out of the wooden bucket and handed it over.

"Uncle Li, this is for you."

Li Laogen was dumbfounded, staring at the fish that was still gently wagging its tail, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"Where did this come from?"

"Fired from the river."

Li Laogen snapped out of his daze and immediately pushed the fish back, saying, "No, no! You keep it! Your family needs it more than mine!"

Chen Mo didn't withdraw his hand, but stared at him, saying calmly, "You helped my family at the Wang family's gate yesterday, and I want to ask you about something."

Li Laogen stared at Chen Mo for a long time before finally reaching out and taking the fish.

"Come in and talk."

Li Laogen's house was even colder than Chen Mo's.

Sitting on a worn-out bench, Chen Mo asked Uncle Li directly, "Uncle Li, do you know where around here I can dig up some tuberous plants? I don't need too many, just a little bit will do."

Li Laogen rubbed his hands together, exhaled a puff of white breath, and then pondered for a moment before saying, "During the severe drought two years ago, I dug up a few wild yams in the cracks of rocks on the south slope behind my house, but by then they had already been almost completely dug up. This year, with the snow, the ground is frozen solid like stone, three feet thick, making it impossible to dig them up."

"The bark?" Chen Mo asked again, "Which tree bark is edible?"

Li Laogen gave a helpless smile and said, "There's nothing left to eat. Look around the village, where can you find any elm bark? Grinding that stuff into powder and mixing it with grain is the best way to eat it. The remaining willow and poplar bark are very bitter. Eating too much of them will cause bloating and constipation, and can suffocate a person to death. That's how Zhang's third son died a few days ago."

Chen Mo fell silent.