Starting from Robinson Crusoe

Looking at the mountain, but the horse dies from running.

The beacon hung in the distant sky, descending at such an imperceptibly slow speed that it seemed almost unnoticeable.

Its light neither brightens as one draws nearer nor dims from afar, as if it existed not in the real world but only in one’s mind.

...

Chen Zhou and Paul’s group headed straight for the beacon, continuing for over ten days after the battle with the mammoth.

In the first few days, the two advanced at a rapid marching pace, covering over 50 kilometers on the longest day.

After that day, Chen Zhou could still endure, but Paul was utterly exhausted and overtired; the next day’s distance sharply decreased to only 20 kilometers.

Once Paul recovered, Chen Zhou proactively adjusted their intensity to maintain around 30 kilometers per day.

Even so, their accumulated distance in ten days was nearly 400 kilometers.

The two had already left the Mammoth Grassland and entered a flatter, more barren tundra, yet the beacon in the sky still seemed so distant.

Sometimes, Chen Zhou wondered if this was another strange amusement by the Space-Time Administration Bureau, using peculiar weather to toy with all challengers.

But he didn’t dare gamble and continued forward, waiting until he knew for certain what lay beneath that glow or until he reached the air-dropped supplies to stop.

...

In high latitudes, summer’s heat does not gradually fade away with autumn’s coolness as in mid-latitude regions; instead, it vanishes silently overnight.

When the wild grass on the grassland grew highest, completing its reproduction cycle in a single year and sending off the seeds representing the hope for reproduction after a short flowering period, the withered yellow swept across the land.

The temperature dropped day by day, and even before the first snow fell, the morning wilderness already showed white—

Frost on the grass leaves, also a signal of the approaching harsh winter.

Long and cruel winter is coming.

...

Another early morning, as Chen Zhou woke up, he saw Paul shivering beside the campfire—

The clothes he wore upon arriving were fit for autumn, inadequate for wind protection or warmth. The forced march of recent days had greatly depleted Paul’s fat reserves, and their monotonous diet left both somewhat malnourished.

By now, Paul had visibly slimmed down; had his unkempt beard not made his head appear larger while covering his neck, one would see his clear jawline.

The high-latitude regions of the Ice Age were colder than modern Siberia; even Paul, a Slav, found it difficult to bear.

After guarding through the second half of the night, Paul’s exhaustion from both body and mind made him look particularly weary. His eyelids drooped as he glanced at Chen Zhou and asked.

"What time are we leaving today?"

"We’re not moving today; let’s rest for a day. We need to get some animal hides sewn into coats. From the look of the temperature, it might snow in a few days."

With furrowed brows, Chen Zhou looked at the sky.

The sun had just risen, yet the sky was gray; if it weren’t for the beacon shining above, the ground wouldn’t be so bright.

Having grown up in the north, he naturally knew this sky wasn’t a good omen; it’s a common scene before snowfall.

"Also, we need to find some edible plants to supplement vitamins, and try to hunt a few sufficiently fat animals to replenish some fat.

Otherwise, forget you, even I can’t hold out much longer."

With a strong physique comes energy consumption. Even though Chen Zhou’s digestive system could make better use of the same food, there’s no way to create nutrients from nothing if they aren’t ingested.

He craved carbohydrates and fats now, especially carbohydrates—

In nearly half a month, he hadn’t supplemented carbohydrates or any food that could convert to sugar, and looking at the empty tundra, he missed the pine nuts stored in the Shelter.

"I wonder what’s become of the Shelter.

The wind has grown stronger recently; by the time we return, it might have snowed. I can only hope we’ll still be able to climb the mountain and find our Shelter."

Cursing the Space-Time Administration Bureau in his heart, Chen Zhou got up from the deer skin blanket, and the three Saw-toothed Tigers lying beside him stood up at once.

...

The upper limit of a creature isn’t greatly influenced by effort; in reality, genes are the source of everything.

In less than half a month, with ample supply of meat, the Serrated Tiger Cubs had rapidly grown as if inflated and now weighed around 40 pounds, with teeth and claws possessing certain attack power.

A large dog of the same age probably wouldn’t compare in size and strength to even half of the Serrated Tiger.

Having lived with humans day and night, the Serrated Tiger Cubs, now gradually growing up, seemed to have forgotten what their own kind looks like. During the day, they followed Chen Zhou and Paul northward; at night, they acted as "self-heated pillows," staying beside Chen Zhou or Paul.

The increasingly cold climate at high latitudes made humans uncomfortable, but for these big cats, it was like Heaven.

The Serrated Tiger Cubs hadn’t yet shed their baby fur, which was finer compared to the dual-layer coat of adult Saw-toothed Tigers. Thus, their insulation was stronger—naturally, this was predicated on abundant food.

...

Among the three little Serrated Tigers, Tiger First was the tallest, with the strongest build; perhaps growth like this propelled a faster pace. As a youngster, his appetite led the two younger brothers, and during growth, this gap only widened instead of narrowing.