Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

For an ordinary person, finding the way back to Inner Mongolia or even Baotou on this vast snowfield with no landmarks would be like finding a needle in a haystack, and they would most likely get lost in this forbidden zone of life.

But Wei Chen is no ordinary person.

With a slight thought, he activated the auxiliary skill from the game world deep within his mind—the Tracking Technique.

This wasn't simply recognizing footprints or scents; it was a far more profound ability. As the skill was activated, a semi-transparent, holographic-like image of light and shadow, visible only to him, slowly unfolded in his consciousness. This was the "mini-map" function attached to the tracking technique.

The map's area is centered on him, with a radius of approximately 210 kilometers (an effect combining in-game skill levels and real-world mental energy). Most of the map is a hazy, unknown state, but at this moment, a few scattered, faintly glowing green markers, like fireflies in the night, intermittently point southeast!

These green dots are the "road signs" he deliberately left over the past twenty-odd days as he traversed the grasslands, traveled to and from the black market, and tracked his prey.

The marking function of tracking can not only mark specific targets, but also leave a "mark" with his unique mental imprint on non-hostile creatures and even non-living beings that is extremely difficult to detect.

Wei Chen would choose a relatively strong grassland animal with a relatively fixed range every hundred miles or so, quietly approach it, and leave a mental mark on it. Or he would mark it on a tree or a rock!

These tagged animals and plants will appear as green dots as long as they remain within the detection range of the minimap. By connecting these dots, an invisible "path home" can be traced.

Although he had gone far while chasing the wild donkey herds and the yellow sheep tide, he had not completely deviated from the general direction. Several animals that he had marked earlier were still on the edge of the detection range, which pointed him in the direction of return.

"Luckily, I was prepared." Wei Chen looked at the few guiding lights in his mind and felt relieved. Without this backup plan, getting "lost" this time would have been quite a hassle.

Without further delay, he took one last look at the land that had bestowed upon him unimaginable gifts, then turned and headed southeast, following the path indicated by the green dots of light, and began to walk with steady steps.

The return journey was much easier than the way there. There was no need for hunting or deliberate exploration; he simply followed the intermittent green "lighthouse" in his mind. He kept his speed slightly faster than the average person's running pace, but without excessively depleting his energy, like an experienced long-distance traveler leaving a clear trail of footprints on the snowfield.

The journey was far from smooth. It involved traversing snow-covered hills, crossing frozen rivers, and skirting meadows that might conceal swamps, while occasionally dodging small packs of roaming wolves. But all of this posed little threat to Wei Chen now. He relied on his keen senses and mental strength to anticipate risks, and when encountering small packs of wolves that were unavoidable, he would use his bow and arrow to disperse them from a distance or precisely kill a few of the alpha wolves, leaving the rest to scatter.

He travels during the day and seeks sheltered places to rest at night, sometimes in natural caves. When resting, he usually enters the hunter's hut in the game world to enjoy a hot bath, hot food, and a soft bed, completely relaxing and recovering, while also organizing and planning the supplies in the famous space.

As we continued southeast, the types of animals at the green markers began to change, from sand foxes and jerboas in the Gobi Desert to marmots on the grasslands, occasionally large trees, and houses by the roadside. The surrounding scenery gradually became familiar; there were more withered meadows, the rolling hills became gentler, and there seemed to be more signs of human habitation in the air.

Three days later, Wei Chen finally crossed the border. He still relied on his mental power to probe from a distance to avoid encountering the soldiers patrolling the border.

Back in Inner Mongolia, his mood lightened considerably. Two days later, as he stood on a high slope, he saw the outlines of low, earthen-yellow buildings stretching across the horizon, along with the iconic chimneys emitting wisps of black smoke. He knew then that he had arrived in Baotou.

He didn't go directly into the city, but stopped at a remote fork in the road, more than ten miles from the city center. It was close to a dirt road leading to the city, but surrounded by a few sparse poplar groves and abandoned adobe houses, and rarely visited by people.

Wei Chen needed to complete a "supply transfer" here. The thirty wild donkeys and two hundred gazelles he planned to "hand over" to the factory in his spatial storage needed a legitimate "origin." He had already used his mental power to survey the surrounding area and selected a half-collapsed, abandoned brick kiln not far away. The kiln had a fairly large interior space, a hidden entrance, and was sheltered from the wind and dry, making it a good place to temporarily store goods.

As dusk fell and the area was deserted, Wei Chen quickly arrived at the brick kiln. After confirming it was safe, he began retrieving the "goods" from his spatial storage. He precisely controlled the selection: thirty wild donkeys, choosing individuals of medium to high size, but not the absolute best (to avoid being too conspicuous); and two hundred gazelles, also selecting those in good condition but of uniform size.

The prey was neatly stacked in a dry spot inside the cave, forming a rather impressive little mountain. The cold corpses emitted a faint chill, but in the cold winter, they were better preserved.

After dealing with everything, Wei Chen carefully erased the traces he had left behind, left the brick kiln, and used some dry branches and broken mats to slightly cover the entrance of the hole so that it would not be too conspicuous.

After doing all this, he finally headed towards Baotou city. It was already dusk, and the low-rise houses on the city's edge emitted a dim, yellowish light. The air was filled with a complex mixture of coal smoke, food, and livestock odors. There weren't many pedestrians on the streets, most hurrying along, bundled up in thick cotton coats.

Wei Chen didn't go to those conspicuous state-run hotels or guesthouses. Instead, based on information he had gathered from some long-distance drivers, he found a two-story building near the outskirts of the city that looked quite old and had a sign that read "Workers, Peasants and Soldiers Guesthouse".

The guesthouse had a small entrance, with red slogans reading "Joint Public-Private Ownership" and "Fire Prevention and Theft Prevention" pasted on the glass door. Pushing open the door, one entered a small lobby with portraits of the leader and some regulations hanging on the walls. Several long, peeling wooden benches stood against the wall. Behind the counter, a middle-aged woman wearing a blue cotton-padded jacket and arm sleeves was knitting. Hearing the door open, she looked up.

"Comrade, accommodation?" the woman asked indifferently, putting down her yarn.

"Yes, accommodation. I have a letter of introduction." Wei Chen took out the letter of introduction from the steel rolling mill and his own identification and handed it over.

The woman took the item, examined it closely under the dim light, then looked at Wei Chen, who appeared travel-worn but had bright eyes, and nodded. "There are no single rooms left, only four-person rooms. Each bed costs 80 cents a night, and there's a thermos. The toilet and washroom are at the end of the corridor. How many days do you want to stay?"

"Let's stay for three days first," Wei Chen said, taking out his money.

The woman issued the ticket, collected the money, and took out a key with a wooden tag attached from under the counter: "Second floor, 207, the innermost room. The door is locked at 10 PM and opened at 6 AM."

"Thank you." Wei Chen took the key, picked up his travel bag, which looked small but was actually packed with personal belongings thanks to his spatial cheating, and went up the creaking wooden stairs.

Room 207 was indeed at the end of the corridor. Pushing open the door, a faint smell of mustiness mixed with disinfectant wafted out. The room was small, with two bunk beds against the wall, and a worn wooden table in the middle. On the table sat a bamboo-cased thermos and two chipped white enamel mugs. The window was small, the glass covered with a thick layer of dust and frost. The conditions were basic, but clean enough; the bedding, though old, was washed clean.

There were no other guests in the room. Wei Chen chose the lower bunk by the window and put his travel bag down. He didn't rest immediately, but first picked up the thermos and shook it. There was water in it, but not much. He took his tea mug to the water room at the end of the corridor, filled it with hot water, and then quickly washed his face and hands with cold water.

He returned to his room and closed the door. Without turning on the light, he sat on the edge of the bed, slowly sipping hot water, using only the faint glow of the distant streetlights filtering through the window. The warm liquid slid down his throat, dispelling the last trace of the chill he'd brought from the wilderness.

His body relaxed, but his mind was racing. Checking into the guesthouse meant he had truly returned from that perilous yet opportunity-filled wilderness to the complex rules of human society. Next came the crucial step—contacting Beijing, reporting the "results," and initiating the follow-up plan.

He needs a phone. There seems to be one at the front desk on the first floor of the guesthouse. Tomorrow, tomorrow morning, at a suitable time…

As night deepened, the occasional bark of a dog or the faint sound of a bicycle bell drifted from the street outside the guesthouse, emphasizing the stillness of the winter night. Wei Chen lay down fully clothed, closed his eyes, listened to his steady and strong heartbeat, and went over the entire plan in his mind again, confirming every detail and considering every possibility.

Everything is ready; we are just waiting for dawn.

The cold wind was still howling outside the window, but inside room 207, there was a reassuring tranquility.

The first rays of morning sunlight pierced through the slightly worn windows of the guesthouse, casting bright patches of light on the mottled cement floor. The air was filled with a faint mixture of coal smoke, mutton, and damp dust, reminding Wei Chen that he had returned from the desolate wilderness, where only wind, snow, and the roars of wild animals could be heard, to the densely populated town.

In an inconspicuous state-run guesthouse on the outskirts of Baotou, Wei Chen woke up in his bed.

He washed his face with cold water; the icy water completely dispelled the last trace of fatigue from a night of running around. Looking at his blurry reflection in the mirror, he carefully tidied his appearance.

The fine cracks on his face, caused by the wind and frost of the grassland, had not completely faded, and his skin was much darker than when he left Beijing. However, his eyes were sharper and calmer, and although his figure was still tall, he exuded a shrewd and powerful aura like a cheetah.

He changed into a clean but slightly worn blue work uniform, completely reverting to the image of a weary, task-oriented grassroots purchasing agent.