Moreover, the more he chewed, the stronger the taste of the candied fruit remained in his mouth, becoming harder to dispel.
At first, Chen Zhou almost couldn't resist spitting out the candied fruit, but he eventually forced himself to adapt to the taste and focus on enjoying this "gift from Robinson," extracting the energy from the sugar in the food.
The overly sweet sensation and the slight satisfaction from the food stimulated the production of dopamine, quickly improving Chen Zhou's mood.
He initially wanted to eat the entire piece of candied fruit at once but realized there was too little of it, and even finishing it wouldn't replenish his energy. He would have to eat some raw fish, crabs, shrimp, and shellfish soon, which might taste worse. He decided to save some candied fruit to eat along with them; otherwise, he might not be able to swallow the raw seafood.
He carefully put the small knife and remaining candied fruit into his pocket, donned Robinson's coat, left his other clothes and shoes on the slope, gathered his spirits, and walked onto the rock beach.
Since the early morning, the rising tide had submerged most of the rock beach. Stones like chess pieces were sunken in the sea, and the waves rolled forward slowly and wearily, like the soft foot of a fatigued sea snail.
As the tide climbed the beach, shrimp and crabs scrambled onto the shore, gathering into large groups, either lying on the sand or moving their pincers and limbs, stirring up clusters of mud in the shallow water.
Seabirds attracted by the scent circled in the sky, staring down with keen eyes, occasionally swooping down to catch a crab or a shiny little fish.
Chen Zhou waded in the water, crouching low, clumsily trying to catch crabs in the shallows. Several attempts left him with nothing but mud and water all over himself, making him look quite a mess.
The seabirds, however, frequently succeeded, flaunting their catches in the sky. The fluttering sound of their wings only deepened Chen Zhou's feeling of imbalance.
Shading his eyes with an arm, he squinted at the active flock, feeling envious as he thought about his empty stomach. He wished he could pull them down from the sky and snatch their prey.
As the saying goes, poverty breeds cunning, and prosperity breeds virtue. Hungry Chen Zhou suddenly had a mischievous idea.
He gave up hunting with his bare hands and focused on picking up stones, throwing them at the seabirds whenever he saw one holding a fish.
The seabirds, having grown up on an isolated island, had never seen such tactics and, regardless of whether they were hit or not, were frightened, dodging sideways and squawking warnings.
Their cries played right into Chen Zhou's hands.
With wide eyes, he watched the shallows, ready to quickly retrieve any fish dropped by a seabird.
Fish and crabs that had been in the birds' beaks were not as lively as those in the water; when they fell, they were exhausted and had little strength to struggle. The unfortunate ones that hit stones were knocked out cold, making them easy for Chen Zhou to pick up.
Thus, using human ingenuity, Chen Zhou significantly increased the efficiency of his fishing efforts, soon collecting a bag full of unidentifiable small fish and a dozen or so crabs missing limbs.
Above him, the angry seabirds continued to squawk noisily, cursing the shameless thief, yet were helpless, only managing a few inaccurate "fecal bombs" as a counterattack.
Chen Zhou ignored the seabirds' protests, weighed the heavy coat, tied the sleeves together, slung it over his shoulder, and left the rock beach reeking of fish.
Arriving at the riverbank, he found a flat stone, spread out his coat, and looked at the pile of assorted fish and crabs, hesitant about eating them.
Having grown up inland, the only seafood he was familiar with was ribbonfish. Confronted with these alien foods, he had no idea which might be poisonous or edible.
But taking a different perspective, constantly worrying was unfair to both his labor and the "generous contributions" of the seabirds.
Besides, the seabirds had eaten plenty of fish without being poisoned and continued hunting energetically on the rock beach. Surely he wouldn't be so unlucky as to be poisoned by a fish.
Given the situation, he couldn't let fear prevent him from eating.
Determined, Chen Zhou drew a small knife, squatting by the river to prepare the ingredients.
After being wrapped in the coat for so long in a harsh, dry, and stuffy environment, most of these half-dead fish were now dead, leaving only a few resilient crabs struggling and blowing bubbles.
Crabs never appealed to him, especially these missing limbs yet still trying to escape. Assuming the fish were sufficient and these small crabs had little meat and might be poisonous, he decided to push both the dead and live crabs back into the river, leaving himself with dozens of small fish, which would be enough for a full meal.
He submerged the knife blade into the river to wash off the salt left by seawater.
With precise strokes of the knife, he sliced off the fish heads and tails, split their bodies from the abdomen, removed the innards, rinsed them with river water, and then placed them on the stone, ready to be eaten.
In no time, he finished processing the small fish, arranging them neatly on the stone. Their silver scales glistened with a certain grandeur, at least looking more like proper food than the candied fruit.
With two fingers, he picked up the smallest fish, cautiously tasting it.
The taste of this crude sashimi without any sauce wasn't as bad as he imagined.
Perhaps because they had just died, the fish was tender with a slight crispiness. Though fishy, it also released a subtle salty sweetness on his tongue, not altogether displeasing, except the bones and scales greatly affected the texture.
Ptui, ptui, ptui...
He spat several times to clear scales from his mouth, learned his lesson, and carefully sliced the remaining fish into thin pieces, lavishly discarding the bones and scaly parts before quickly consuming the slices.
The raw fish taste was strong, and when it became unbearable, Chen Zhou would take out the remaining candied fruit, using its intense sweetness to mask the fishiness.
Even when paired with candied fruit, after a few pieces, he started to feel repulsed, instinctively wanting to spit the fish out upon tasting it.
Whenever this happened, Chen Zhou would rest, sip river water to rinse his mouth, and then continue battling with the food.
Fish after fish, the pile on the stone gradually diminished, while Chen Zhou felt increasingly full.
The chewed raw fish traveled through his esophagus, reached his stomach and intestines, was broken down by gastric acid, and entered the small and large intestines, where the nutrients were absorbed and converted into energy flowing through his body.
Clenching his fist, feeling the contraction and relaxation of his muscles, the heavy burden on Chen Zhou's heart finally lifted.
Knowing he'd regained his strength, he felt more confident.
Though not as strong as his peak physical state, it was enough to wade across the beach, swim a few hundred meters to the shallow sea, and climb onto the stern by grabbing the rope dangling from the mast chain.
In any case, the worst was over.
Swallowing the last piece of candied fruit and savoring the bittersweet taste now familiar to his mouth, he packed away Robinson's fishy-smelling coat and the small knife. Chen Zhou walked slowly but resolutely toward the slope.
Many things still worried him.
Bacteria in the raw water; harmful substances in the candied fruit; parasites in the fish; storms at sea; poisonous jellyfish and sea snakes in the water, and his ever-unstable stomach.
But life couldn't always be perfect.
He lacked the power to change everything and could only choose among different paths—not the best nor the worst choices.
This had been true throughout Chen Zhou's life.
Over the past twenty-five years, he made many forced choices, dictated by elders and life itself, the pros and cons of which remained unclear, but they significantly shaped his ordinary life.
Now, he no longer bore the burdens of responsibility and social expectations, no longer caring about others' opinions, with every decision entirely his own.
No matter the outcome, this alone surpassed much of his past.
Reaching the slope, he picked up the shoes and clothes from the short grass, tied the strips as usual, and headed for the beach.
After noon, the tide would recede far, and in such bright weather, the stranded merchant ship would be visible from afar. Wading through the shallow water and boarding the ship would significantly reduce the challenge's difficulty and bring him much closer to the 720,000.
Sitting down heavily on the warm sand, gazing at the merchant ship, Chen Zhou took out "Robinson Crusoe" and started leafing through it.
All he needed now was to wait—wait for the tide to recede and for the best moment to board the ship.
Yet this waiting was far more exciting and interesting than the waiting he'd experienced at the cement factory.