Starting from Robinson Crusoe-Chapter 237 - 107: Scattered

The sound of rain was like marbles of glass knocking on Chen Zhou's heart.

This waiting was extraordinarily tormenting.

The sky grew increasingly dim, and until before nightfall, the nearly day-long downpour finally ceased.

The gloomy clouds lingered, hiding stars and moon from sight.

In the kitchen, within the stove, the flames were still alive.

Chen Zhou rubbed his face, hot from the fire, put on a leather raincoat, slung on a backpack, and took out a lamp filled with oil.

After such a prolonged rain, if the reward on the beach wasn't waterproof, it might have already turned into mush.

Despite this, he still wanted to take a look at the beach, even if it meant groping in the dark.

Perhaps it's what they call not crying until seeing the coffin.

Moreover, not only did he miss the reward today, but the wooden and stone wall on the beach was also left unorganized.

However, this trip was solely to have a glimpse of the reward's true form; he didn't intend to organize the wooden and stone walls in the rainy night.

The cutting cycle was a full fifteen days; within half a month, he'd surely find a day with lighter rain.

Stacking the wooden and stone walls wasn't a matter of life or death; it wasn't worth an all-night endeavor.

He lit the lamp, pocketed a lighter, a bottle of rabbit meatballs, a bottle of dried lemons, a bottle of cold water for unforeseen needs, and took a long-handled axe, recently sharpened, with an edge restored to sharpness.

Leaving Lai Fu at home, treading across the platform where water and mud hadn't seeped into the soil, Chen Zhou's silhouette and the warmth of his lamp were gradually swallowed by the mountains and forests.

...

The better life gets, the more you fear death.

There are still three kittens at home, a bunch of young mice needing care.

Worried about slipping or getting injured on the rainy, slippery road, Chen Zhou's pace was slow, taking nearly double the usual time to reach the beach.

The glow from the lantern could only illuminate a small area around him, and from afar, he could only see the collapsed black-gray silhouette of the wooden and stone wall outlined on the beach.

The sand absorbed so much moisture that each step left a footprint, as if water could be squeezed out.

Clutching the lantern tightly, the closer he got to the mysterious reward, the more apprehensive Chen Zhou felt.

The obstructive view of the wooden and stone wall intensified his concern and unease, urging him to discover the nature of this reward.

Yet he managed to keep his composure.

He steadily kept his pace, moving aside the crooked wooden and stone wall affected by cutting and the heavy rain.

The lamp's light had yet to reach the center of the sand, but in the scent of rain-soaked soil, Chen Zhou caught a familiar sweet fragrance.

He sniffed and took a deep breath, stretched out his arm to bring the lamp closer, kicked away the wooden and stone wall in front of him, and widened his eyes to see the ground below.

At the lamp's edge, at the reward's center, he could vaguely make out a large area of rain-soaked packaging, slumped on the ground.

Further away, many round, rolling shadows of different sizes littered the sand.

Due to the uneven beach, most had rolled toward the sea, stopped only by the base of the wooden and stone wall, resting in darkness imperceptible to the human eye.

"This smell, why does it resemble the Autumn White Almonds from my hometown?"

Stepping into the wooden and stone wall's enclosure, Chen Zhou increasingly found the scent reminiscent of ripe apricots.

Bending down, he walked to the rain-soaked, saturated cardboard box nearby, and leaned down to inspect the remaining reward items inside.

As expected, due to the damaged packaging, all the ripe apricots originally boxed had been ravaged by the rain.

Those not yet fully ripe managed to barely retain their form, yet the fully ripe ones, with skins initially soft and fragile, were pummeled into a pulp by the rain, much like cloves of garlic being pounded in a mortar.

Save for the solid apricot pits in their centers, everything turned to mush, merging into the sandy gravel as apricot juice.

"What a waste!"

He set down his backpack, pulled out a plastic bag, and picked out the more intact Autumn White Almonds from the pile of spoiled apricots, storing them in the bag.

These apricots, called "Autumn White Almonds," were a term commonly used back in his hometown; he wasn't sure of their official name.

What he knew was they ripened in late July to early or mid-August, were large with thin skins and sweet fruit, with a taste both sweet, glutinous, and soft, emitting a strong apricot aroma.

At rural autumn fairs, Autumn White Almonds typically sold for more than twice the price of regular home apricots.

The name "Autumn White Almonds" partly derived from their autumn ripening, and because unlike regular apricots with yellow skins when ripe, these had creamy white or off-white skins.

In Chen Zhou's childhood, there was an Autumn White Almond tree at a household on the street in front of his grandmother's house.

Those days, village children rarely had snacks to eat, so when given a few dimes to buy spicy strips or gum at a small store, they'd feel delighted beyond measure.

If they had a small pudding or "Big Torch" in late summer when the heat lingered, it was considered a rare luxury.

Within such an environment, every autumn as fragrance pears, sand pears, golden red fruits, plums, and other fruits ripened, it was a time of revelry for the children.

Back then, his grandmother's house didn't have Autumn White Almonds, only a few mountain apricot trees.

The mountain apricots were sour, hard, and astringent, capable of scrunching up one's entire face with sourness, least favored by the children.

But in his grandmother's yard stood a very fine plum tree, and there were sand pears and golden red fruits, as well as heart-shaped apple trees.

When the fruits ripened, he'd secretly pick plums and other fruits from home to exchange with friends who had Autumn White Almonds.

Perhaps after growing up accustomed to his grandmother's fruits, Autumn White Almonds always seemed particularly fragrant and savory to him, leaving a special impression.

After growing up, when Chen Zhou went to town for middle school, he once suffered from a stomach disease, indigestion, and upon a doctor's advice, ate many Autumn White Almonds alongside medication to cure the illness.