Starting from Robinson Crusoe-Chapter 151 - 64: Bold Idea (Part 2)

After moving each bag of cement, it only needs to be shifted two or three meters, which is a short distance, requiring little physical effort.

Even though he hasn't fully recovered from a cold, and his physical condition isn't at its peak, Chen Zhou isn't slow at his work pace.

It didn't take him long to move sixty bags of cement, and then he pulled up the corner of the waterproof cloth.

When he was bonding the waterproof cloth in the cave, he anticipated that this reward might be very large, so he added a lot of extra in advance.

However, the plastic sheets from the recent rewards are limited, and even if they are all glued together, they can't reach a length of a dozen meters.

Moreover, Chen Zhou didn't expect the package this time to be this large in size.

He thought the largest reward item would be nothing more than a diesel engine or a useless household appliance like a washing machine or refrigerator.

Unexpectedly, the program team was even more wicked than he imagined, delivering so much cement here.

This was clearly a plan he had no choice but to accept with gritted teeth.

Cement is indeed a very useful material, but this material also has many drawbacks.

It can't be used just as it is; it needs to be combined with water, sand, bricks, and stones, or its effectiveness will be greatly reduced.

Also, cement needs to be transported, and it requires him to plaster and build walls himself.

Additionally, cement storage conditions are harsh: bags aren't sturdy and can degrade if exposed to the wind; cement inside fears getting wet, as it will lose its value once it hardens and clumps.

Most importantly, even if he stubbornly stores all the cement at the campsite, it won't be used for a while.

During the rainy season, cement walls plastered over will be damaged by heavy rain.

Using cement for exterior walls will have to wait until the next dry season, about a month and a half later.

As for building stoves and interior walls indoors, Chen Zhou feels that white clay is already quite good, and there's no need for such high-strength cement...

In short, cement is just a higher-grade substitute for white clay on the sunny slope.

In modern times, with mass-produced cement, mixers, sieved river sand, and a large workforce, the cost-effectiveness can outpace white clay.

But here, with limited, hard to apply, non-renewable, and single-function cement, discussing pros and cons, it might not even be better than white clay, which at least can be used for pottery, something cement cannot do.

But there's no choice unless one is gravely ill to the point of being bedridden.

Otherwise, any challenger would strive to store all this cement properly because it represents a higher ceiling for the building's potential.

...

After moving all the cement, Chen Zhou was already slightly sweating, worried that sweating and getting chilled would worsen his cold symptoms, but there was nothing he could do.

Using sticks to prop the four corners of the waterproof cloth at the edges of the cement bags, then covering the cement pile with thick canvas and another layer of twigs, a simple waterproof structure was completed.

The top layer of twigs and thick canvas is enough to handle light rain, and as long as the bottom layer of waterproof cloth doesn't encounter heavy rain, it should be fine.

Chen Zhou planned to rest for a few more days, repair and reinforce the large tent in the camp, and make a frame on the ground of the tent before moving the cement into the tent.

If he wasn't prepared and a heavy rain soaked through the canvas and ruined the cement, there wouldn't be much he could do but go with it.

Do one's best and submit to fate.

He was still ill, and pushing himself too hard does no good.

Life is more important than cement; you have to recognize that.

Otherwise, if he ends up on his last days, with his life flashing before his eyes, regretting for sacrificing his life for several thousand yuan worth of cement, he would be filled with remorse.

...

After meticulously managing the edges and corners of the cement's rainproof work, making sure there were no errors, Chen Zhou started traveling back and forth between the shore's forest and the beach, transporting stones and wood.

His strength being limited, he only chopped down some slender wood and laid them crosswise over the rough boundary marked on the sand, then filled stones among the wood.

The forest near the seashore was not short of sickly slender trees, but stones were hard to find.

As he exhausted the nearby stones, the distance Chen Zhou had to travel back and forth grew longer and longer.

After working for several hours, a half-meter-high stone-wood mixed wall surrounding the center of the reward was finally built.

Aside from the wooden strips for testing the force field's breadth, Chen Zhou also erected a few sticks of varying heights around the wall in different directions, trying to measure the height of the force field.

Although this work doesn't seem heavy, when actually doing it, it's quite detailed and time-consuming.

Going back and forth cutting wood and transporting it, the morning passed without him realizing it.

As the sky became increasingly overcast, the strength of the wind gradually weakened, and the humidity in the air began to increase.

Worried about being caught in a storm on the beach, he put away the long-handled axe, awakened the soundly sleeping Lai Fu, and headed back to the cave.

...

Upon entering the forest, rain began to sprinkle down, hitting the tree leaves above with a crackling sound, creating a chaotic yet harmonious impression.

Picking up the pace, by the time Chen Zhou climbed up the wooden ladder to the broken cliff, leaving the edge of the slope-side forest and reaching the field, the raindrops were already as large as soybeans, fiercely pummeling the ground.

Stretching his legs to run fast, he dashed across the field ridges and raced to the platform.

Bursting into the cave, Chen Zhou bent over, gasped for breath, then quickly turned into the bedroom, took off his not fully soaked coat, tossed it casually on the ground, and changed into dry clothes.

During the time it took to change clothes, his body was thoroughly chilled by the cold wind.

Chen Zhou felt that his scarcely recovered illness was relapsing, quickly heading to the kitchen, he used the sparks remaining in the campfire to ignite the twigs for warmth.

Achoo!

Throughout the process of making the fire, he kept sneezing, and clear snot flowed from his nose.

"Catching a cold and flu in the subtropics, how unlucky I am."

Chen Zhou instinctively reached for a tissue.

Just as he stood up, he sat back down again.

On second thought, maybe he should save it.

The speed at which he goes through tissues is faster than he uses them for toilette, and since it's hard to get so many tissues, it's better to conserve them, let his rear enjoy more comfort.

He carelessly wiped his nose with his hand, flicked it to the ground, then sniffed a couple of times, and finally felt a bit better.

Hunched over a low stool, idly fiddling with the still-growing small flames, he picked up a notebook from the chair, gazing at the "Cave Kitchen Drawing" sketch from that morning, a smile appeared on his face.

In middle school, he self-taught himself drawing for a while.

Back then, he often placed bottles and jars from home on the table, practicing still life sketching, and secretly used his grandfather's pocket money to buy a few drawing books at the bookstore, from which he would copy paintings.

They say you can't focus on two things at once; during that period of self-learning sketching, his academic performance plummeted, dropping from top fifty in the grade to over two hundred.

At the parent meeting, he was called out by the teacher, went home, and got a harsh beating.

His father always played the tough one, after hitting him, he closed the door and left, disappearing without a trace.

Chen Zhou learned later that every time after hitting him, his father would go out to smoke.

That tall man often squatted on a road curb not far from home, head bowed, one hand covering his gradually graying hair, the other with a cigarette, tremblingly puffing away, leaving cigarette butts all over the road within minutes.

And his mother, almost never intervening or stopping his father from hitting him, would only make a good meal after he was beaten, gently reasoning with him.

Adults actually know many things kids secretly do, but with the heavy burdens of life they often make no interference.

His mother never explicitly told Chen Zhou that in their kind of family, giving up drawing and studying well for a good university was the only path, but her actions said it all.

Since then, and until he graduated college and entered the workforce, Chen Zhou hadn't drawn a single drawing.

His feelings towards drawing were very complex.

Deep down, he always had a strong liking for drawing, yearning to express emotions through his artworks.

But his past caused him to fear drawing, and even when picking up a brush, he couldn't sketch a pattern.

Because he had lost the most fundamental thing for artistic creation—the passion, or courage.

Chen Zhou thought he would never have any more connection with drawing in his life.

Unexpectedly, in the dawn on the deserted island, holding a quill dipped in tree-juice ink, he rediscovered his love, reignited his creative impulse.

"Can I start over here?"

Caressing the paper covered in dense lines, Chen Zhou asked the bonfire.

The flames brightly lit up his eyes.

The scorching heat seemed to mirror his burning heart.

The answer was self-evident.