The night had deepened, and the area around the cave was silent.
The large gate on the wall had already been shut tight, oil lamps beneath the watchtower were all lit, swaying with the wind.
In the dry season on the island, only at night did it carry a hint of coolness.
The wheat fields swayed with the wind, dense clusters of rice forming a continuous expanse, like a green lake.
Chen Zhou leaned against the railing of the watchtower, holding a telescope in one hand, with a glass of rum at his feet, gazing into the distance, lost in thought.
...
The two indigenous people had been sent by him to the wooden cabin ahead, with a pottery jar of water, a few pieces of jerky and flatbread provided by Chen Zhou.
At this moment, they stood nervously inside the cabin, staring at the clean wooden walls, the leak-proof roof, the wooden furniture, and the large glass windows, dazed.
...
"Duo Duo Lu, are we really not dead?
Is this the Celestial Kingdom?"
