The wind blew all night.
Until just before dawn, the incessant howling finally weakened, replaced by the surging sound of the tide.
On the first night on the deserted island, Chen Zhou didn't sleep well.
He had a continuous stream of bizarre dreams, memories emerging from the depths of his mind, playing out in fragmented forms, some sad, some painful, some terrifying...
Thus, Chen Zhou woke repeatedly from his dreams, his sleep fragmented.
Such poor sleep quality was evidently terrible for someone fatigued.
With each awakening, Chen Zhou's mood grew increasingly irritable due to the impact of his sleep quality. He even thought of staying awake until dawn.
Fortunately, a thread of clarity remained in his mind.
The remnants of his rationality reminded Chen Zhou that if he didn't sleep all night, tomorrow's exhausted body and listless spirit would greatly increase the risk of boarding the ship, even costing him his life.
The pressure of survival forced Chen Zhou to calm down, leaving him no choice but to toss and turn until he managed to fall asleep.
At dawn, Chen Zhou was awakened by the need to urinate.
He still maintained the posture in which he had fallen asleep last, leaning against the tree trunk, half sitting and half lying.
Though this posture was not conducive to rest, it provided a good view, allowing Chen Zhou to rise quickly in case of emergencies, giving him a slight sense of security.
Lack of sleep caused sharp pains in Chen Zhou's brain, those fragmented and chaotic dreams lingered like noisy crows in his mind, while his smoking throat pulled him back to reality.
With a yawn, Chen Zhou supported himself against the tree, slowly stood up, and relieved himself.
The sense of comfort after relieving himself slightly mitigated his physical discomfort. Fastening his belt, Chen Zhou raised his head and carelessly glanced at the sky.
The dense clouds of last night had been scattered by the wind; the sun had yet to rise, the sea and sky indistinct, showing a serene and pure azure, with stars sprinkling the sky like nuggets of diamonds set in velvet.
Amidst the sparkling stars, a round moon cast its bright light, draping the beach in a layer of silver gauze.
The dense forest echoed with the cries of insects and birds, as seagulls flew out from the woods, gliding along the undulating sea, soon disappearing from sight.
As the cool breeze brushed against his face, the atmosphere was indescribably serene, contrasting with the cold light of the sky, and the empty sandy sea made a few traces of sorrow rise spontaneously in his heart.
"So beautiful."
Chen Zhou muttered to himself, sincerely admiring it.
The crystal-clear moonlit sky, with beauty untouched by modern industry, made him recall his childhood hometown, the cool summer evenings sitting in the courtyard, leaning against his grandmother listening to stories, counting stars.
How joyful that time was, so joyful that it seemed there were no worries in the world.
Now in a different space-time, he felt that though his hometown was farther away than ever, yet it was also more intimate, clearer, and more nostalgic than ever.
Chen Zhou didn't know that September 30, 1659 was the lunar August 15 of the 16th year of Shunzhi's reign.
The Mid-Autumn Festival, a time for family reunions, moon gazing, and lantern viewing, but he was "a wanderer in a strange land," sleeping rough on a deserted island, enduring hunger and cold until dawn.
Swallowing to moisten his parched throat, he pursed his dry lips, undid the knot, and took off the clothes tied to the tree last night.
Since arriving at the deserted island until now, it's been several hours without water or food, the burning sensation in his belly and dry throat reminded him that he urgently needed to replenish some freshwater, and preferably find some food to stave off hunger.
Chen Zhou considers himself a self-aware person; he's well aware of the gap between him and Robinson.
Robinson boarded a ship at nineteen and had been drifting at sea ever since, once escaped Moorish territory by rowing a boat along the African coastline; he was an experienced sailor frequently engaged in physical labor, an adventurer with excellent swimming skills.
But Chen Zhou, before arriving on the deserted island, had never been near the sea; from childhood to adulthood, he only swam discreetly a few times in the countryside ponds, practically a novice swimmer.
Moreover, as a modern individual responsible for supervising and maintaining equipment at a cement factory, his body has deteriorated significantly, compared to Robinson, who had weathered storms, his endurance and physical strength were surely much weaker.
Under similar physical conditions, what Robinson could accomplish, Chen Zhou might not be able to.
Therefore, if he didn't replenish water and eat something, with his frail body, he'd likely end up drowning in the sea.
But he's already been pushed to this point; that ship, he must board.
Without any choice, Chen Zhou can only try his utmost to adjust his condition, every bit of physical strength accumulated increasing the likelihood of successfully boarding the ship.
As for whether the unboiled water on the deserted island hosts parasites and bacteria, and whether drinking it would cause dysentery, he can't afford to worry about that.
After all, he neither has a vessel to hold water nor tools to start a fire. Even if he had a vessel, expecting him — a person lacking outdoor survival experience — to successfully start a fire in a damp forest would be a fantasy.
Having watched a few episodes of wilderness challenges, he certainly doesn't consider himself Bear Grylls.
Moreover, disease is just a potential threat; failing to board the ship could lead to many more troubles.
Chen Zhou thinks very clearly, placing his clothes over his shoulder, just about to depart when his eyes suddenly shift, vaguely recalling that the original book mentioned Robinson drinking some water after landing on the island.
So, he hurriedly took out the book "Robinson Crusoe" from his pocket, carefully flipping through the details of landing in the faint moonlight.