Starting from Robinson Crusoe-Chapter 152 - 65: Recuperation

February 26 to March 4 was the most leisurely time for Chen Zhou since arriving on the island.

During his recuperation, he could sleep as long as he wanted and cook whatever he fancied.

When the weather was slightly clear, he'd do some light work or go for walks, heading to the beach at the foot of the mountain, carrying back a bag of cement on his way back to the camp, as a form of exercise.

Occasionally, he'd have a drink, and when feeling inspired, paint a few pictures.

He painted scenes he'd never attempted before: coastal peaks, crashing waves, rising sun, orchids in dense forests, small river rock beaches...

Unfortunately, the notebook paper he brought from the boat was small, thin, not very white, and had no texture, making it unsuitable for sketching or charcoal drawing.

Of course, he also lacked proper tools for sketching.

Common pencils, pens, and less common brushes had to be self-made.

As for charcoal drawings or silver needle sketches requiring special paper, they were just pipe dreams.

Moreover, let alone professional art supplies, he didn't even have an eraser; both the black ink from the boat and the homemade purple-pink ink couldn't be erased, so mistakes couldn't be undone once made.

Fortunately, Chen Zhou had cultivated a personal habit of precision and simplicity when drawing structure diagrams, striving to minimize the number of revisions.

In practice, the issues he encountered when painting weren't too many and were generally acceptable.

However, paper was precious and couldn't be squandered; after painting a dozen pages, he became somewhat reluctant to use them.

Luckily, the recent mysterious rewards came with quite a bit of corrugated cardboard, which was sufficient for charcoal drawing.

Chen Zhou even designed several frames for the corrugated cardboard, hanging the finished artworks under the bedroom's support beam, providing a slight spiritual comfort as he could see them every morning upon waking.

Beyond corrugated cardboard, he also explored developing a new type of "paper," such as fired clay boards.

After dozens of attempts, he would spread white clay on the surface of wooden blocks and send them into the oven for firing, taking them out to cool once the fire had died down.

The result was always either deformation, cracking, or peeling; not once was he successful.

After consulting a ceramics manufacturing guide from an online forum, Chen Zhou realized that even firing a simple clay piece required particular furnace structure and temperature, not to mention his unprocessed white clay wasn't up to standard.

Moreover, the wooden blocks he used were too thick; if he tried using flammable vine woven structures, he might have better results.

Increasing flame temperature required charcoal, building a kiln required bricks, and ideally, a bellows would be handy.

These all needed to be slowly crafted and accumulated, so Chen Zhou temporarily abandoned the plan to make clay boards.

...

Enhancing his painting experience wasn't limited to researching paper; Chen Zhou also attempted to make brushes and alternate colored inks wanting to try watercolor painting.

The decorative paintings brought from the ship were all canvas oil paintings.

At this time, abstract modern style oil painting hadn't yet emerged; among the decorative paintings from the ship, two were landscapes and one a portrait.

The oil paintings retained the traditional realistic style, cautiously using colors without dramatic contrast, and the handling of light wasn't as refined as modern works.

Perhaps the artist's skill wasn't sufficient, as the proportions in the portrait of the noble girl appeared awkward.

Of course, Chen Zhou evaluated these paintings from an admirer's perspective; if he were to attempt painting them himself, his skills might not even qualify him to carry the artist's shoes.

After all, having your work displayed in the captain and first mate's quarters signified a certain level of fame in that era, at the very least allowing the artist to earn from selling his paintings.

...

In terms of painting, things weren't going smoothly; however, in other aspects, Chen Zhou did achieve some success.

On the morning of March 1, the weather was fairly clear, with no immediate signs of rain. Feeling bored, he took ropes to the platform where the sheep frequented, setting up traps around their tracks.

Unexpectedly, by March 2, he had captured a prey.

It was a frail, dull-colored old goat with skin disease. Once its neck was caught in the trap, it barely had the strength to struggle and simply lay there quietly awaiting its fate.

Chen Zhou found it in the evening of March 2.

Several showers had fallen that day, and the sparse hair of the old goat couldn't shield it from the rain. Much of its wool had been washed away by the sudden downpour, leaving it soaked and emitting a strong mutton smell.

It was shivering, lying on the slope where the herd had passed, breathing heavily, its head drooped, feebly reaching for the nearby wild grass.

But the rope snare restricted its movement, and despite repeated attempts, it couldn't successfully reach the grass.

Thankfully, Chen Zhou arrived on time; seeing it so old and in poor health, he deemed it unworthy of domestication or breeding. Unwilling to watch it struggle, he mercifully ended its suffering with a knife, sending it to Heaven for peace.

While it wasn't raining, Chen Zhou skinned the goat on the spot, cutting off the four goat legs, but didn't touch the innards.

On one hand, there wasn't much meat on the goat; cutting through the skin the bones were visible, not a trace of fat found, not worth the effort to drag it to the cave.

On the other hand, Chen Zhou worried the old and thin goat might harbor bacteria or parasites.

Goat liver and lungs are usually the worst affected areas by parasites, and he wasn't desperate for food, so he left those parts.

Of course, while he could disregard the goat's innards, Lai Fu fell prey to the craving every dog suffers.

Seeing its master leave the goat behind and walk away with the four legs, it pounced on the goat's body, ready to tear open the chest seeking the heart and liver.

But before its mouth could reach the goat's rib cage, Chen Zhou sternly reprimanded it.

As he stopped it with his voice, he also grabbed Lai Fu by the scruff of its neck and dragged it away.

Lai Fu naturally resisted, wagging its tail and whimpering, doing everything possible to please its master hoping for leniency.

However, Chen Zhou had seen it all before and had developed immunity, his demeanor wasn't gentle but instead became more stern, escorting Lai Fu back to the kiln dwelling. Worried that it might sneak out in the middle of the night hunting for meat, he tied it to the support column.

Chastised and without dinner, and then losing its freedom, Lai Fu was downtrodden, obediently lying beside the support column, no longer making a sound.

That night, Chen Zhou cooked a pot of goat meat soup and grilled several kebabs.

Seal oil spread on the goat meat, though fragrant when cooked, carried a fishy taste, not very palatable.

At times like these, Chen Zhou couldn't help but long for spices.

As he pulled the meat from the wooden skewers and chewed, he fantasized about the aroma of chili powder, pepper, and garlic.

Suddenly, he remembered that the day he went down the mountain to collect medicine, he discovered many mysterious jars containing plant seeds that he had intended to bring to the mountain and identify.

Unexpectedly, that day had left him too fatigued, and after placing them on the kitchen pantry he was preoccupied with lighting fires and boiling water, inadvertently forgetting about those seeds.

If not for the unsatisfactory taste of today's goat meat skewers, he might not have recalled them.