Chapter 175: Chinese Magic Trick—The Fire Taper

Hanson is a British farmer whose family has operated the farm for over two hundred years.

He inherited the farm from his father, but most other farmers his age are elderly, as the next generations no longer wish to take over.

Hanson chose this life because he loves it—he enjoys the fields and grasslands, spending his free time hunting and camping outdoors. Over time, he grew increasingly familiar with the wilderness. With the rise of self-media, he launched an account to share farm life, and his viewership has been decent.

He signed up for this wilderness survival show to gain more traffic, hoping it might help transform his farm.

His spawn point is a relatively flat area, just a few hundred meters from Atlin Lake. His check-in point is also along the lake, so he only needs to walk forward—no real risk of getting lost.

Britain is a country surrounded by sea, a classic island nation; naturally, Hanson is no stranger to water and has extensive fishing experience.

His three pieces of equipment are an axe, a box of matches, and a fishing line.

After landing, he didn't rush into action; instead, he walked two or three kilometers before setting up his stove.

He used matches to light the fire, a naturally concave stone trough by the lake as his pot, and ice he chipped away for water. While others were still trekking, he was already sipping steaming hot water.

After drinking, he entered the forest, dug up a pile of earthworms from the ground, tied them to his fishing line, and immediately began fishing through the broken ice.

To his surprise, the burbot beneath Atlin Lake bit the earthworms easily—though they slipped off a few times, he still reeled in several.

"Hahahaha, this is too easy. The championship is mine for sure."

Hanson, in his thirties, is muscular with a thick beard, looking very pleased.

After drinking the fish soup and satisfying his hunger, he felt energized all over.

Hanson walked into the forest. The lakeside was bitterly cold, the wind making him shiver—he decided to build his shelter inside the woods.

With the axe in hand, Hanson built his shelter easily. Before nightfall, he hollowed out the inside of a fallen dead tree, packed it with leaves and moss at both ends, and soon felt warmth as he curled up inside.

British viewers, seeing Hanson's shelter, were proud and flooded other livestreams with comments.

"Go check out Hanson from Britain—his shelter is huge and warm."

"Hanson's haul today is huge—way better than others."

"I just left Hanson's livestream—he's got a really high chance of success."

But… "Ahh—!"

Hanson stepped out of his shelter to urinate, and a piercing scream echoed through the livestream.

…

As the sky gradually darkened, Qin Yun completed building his shelter.

Though small, its protective effect was solid. To avoid being attacked by wild animals at night, he dug a trench around the entire shelter and piled a ring of burning branches along it. Even if the flames faded quickly, the residual heat remained for a while, offering some deterrent effect.

"Now I'll process my spruce grouse."

Qin Yun carried the grouse's corpse to the stream. At his appearance, several small animals instantly bolted away.

He ignored them, set up his camera, and began eviscerating, plucking, and cleaning the internal organs.

After finishing, he dug a pit nearby, kicked the organs and feathers into it, then packed the soil tightly.

"This way, the smell will disappear quickly—I won't have to worry about blood odor attracting carnivores."

More importantly, this stream is flowing water—the scent will be purified rapidly.

After cleaning the grouse, he began washing the rock lichen, slicing it into pieces with his dagger.

"I plan to boil this rock lichen in the grouse broth. Once cooled, I'll mix it with cloud berry juice—it'll make a great snack on the go."

"Watching Qin Ye's wilderness survival always feels so relaxed and effortless."

"Haha, because he's Qin Ye."

"Guys, have you checked out other livestreams?"

"Just got back—nothing obvious yet, but several others look very professional. A guy named Tom from the U. S. killed a lynx right away—damn, he's fierce."

After finishing all preparations, Qin Yun returned to his shelter.

With fire here, most animals dare not approach—even large ones like grizzly bears.

So in the wilderness, fire isn't just a source of food—it's also the best weapon for self-protection.

He made two more trips, splitting the fire into two parts: one for smoking the grouse, the other for boiling the broth.

"Look here—these are young branches of saltbush. Their bark has a natural salt crust. Scrape it off—it's a natural seasoning. Sprinkle it in soup or on grilled meat to enhance flavor and replenish salt lost quickly in extreme cold. This is invaluable."

He collected many such young saltbush branches along the way, because Qin Yun knew this survival challenge differed from his usual livestreams.

First, the duration will exceed one month—if others last longer, it could stretch even further.

So he must consider intake of various trace elements in his food.

Without salt, most people won't last long—this was covered in the training camp.

"And this—rock ear lichen. Crushed and added to food, it enhances umami. I'll treat it like MSG. And this—looks rotten, but it's not. It's frozen cloudberries. Tart and sweet, perfect for replenishing vitamins."

Qin Yun placed each item he'd gathered before the camera and explained them one by one, as if they were treasured possessions.

It felt as if he hadn't entered the wilderness, but a food warehouse—everything within reach could be used.

When he finally sat down to eat, the aroma had already spread, making his mouth water uncontrollably.

He glanced at the broth in the stone trough, sprinkled in some cloudberries and salt crust, stirred gently, and the fragrance intensified. Right before the camera, he eagerly took a sip—the sour, salty, savory flavor exploded instantly.

Especially with the grouse's texture, it rivaled dishes from civilized society—and under harsh conditions, it tasted even better. Of course, his cooking skill was the main factor.

Even the most ordinary ingredients became exquisite in his hands.

"Mmm, delicious. Too bad you can't taste it." Qin Yun devoured his meal greedily, making viewers' appetites surge.

"This bastard—I'm starving just watching."

"I just ordered KFC."

"I can't take it—I need to eat something."

"Qin Ye, is this really wilderness survival? You're even eating wild game."

After eating his fill, he left the smoked grouse to continue smoking, and dropped the rock lichen into the boiling pot.

"I plan to keep the smoked grouse as emergency rations—under this weather, it won't spoil. Now, I'll demonstrate how to make a traditional Chinese fire-starting tool—the fire taper. It was a household essential in ancient China, capable of smoldering without oxygen, then reigniting instantly when blown on."

Qin Yun came to a birch tree, picked up several pieces of peeling bark, and smiled: "The core of a fire starter is the wick; if the wick is well-made, it burns slowly and lasts longer."

"There are many materials for making wicks. Here, I can tear the birch bark into extremely thin, fine fibers, mix it with pine resin shavings and a bit of dried moss, then roll it into a finger-thick, compact strip."

For Qin Yun, making these things was instinctive memory—he moved without a single hesitation.

Effortlessly, the camera captured his process of preparing the wick, all in under ten minutes.

"Having the wick isn't enough—we still need to put it inside a tube," Qin Yun picked up a hollow birch branch from the ground. "Look, this dried branch is perfect; I just need to hollow it out."

Soon, Qin Yun shoved the rolled wick into the tube, leaving a bit protruding at the top, tying a pull-string outside, and plugging the end with moss.

He held up the finished product to the camera and laughed: "Many might wonder—is this really enough? Of course not. There's still the most crucial step: igniting and smoldering."

He brought one end of the wick to the fire, lit it, and when the flame burned down, he gently blew it out, leaving only a dim red ember, then swiftly capped it with another birchwood lid pierced with a tiny hole.

"That's it. Let it smolder in oxygen-starved confinement—it'll stay red. When you need it, just lift the cap and blow lightly to reignite the flame."

"The one I made can maintain smoldering for over six hours. Within those six hours, I can pull it out anytime to use. But there's still plenty of time left, and many suitable materials here—I can prepare more."

Thus, Qin Yun made one fire starter after another. By the time night fully fell, he had stored about twenty in his backpack—enough to last through the first week.

According to time, it was barely five in the afternoon, yet the sky was already pitch black.

But he couldn't truly rise with the sun and sleep with the dusk—otherwise, the night would stretch seventeen or eighteen hours, leaving him nothing to do.

With a fire and food secured, Qin Yun went into the forest, gathered many tree barks, cut them into thin strips, and began weaving them before the camera.

As a legendary wilderness hunter, his manual skills were terrifyingly sharp—he could weave a vine bag with bare hands as easily as breathing.

The backpack he made during the day was too crude; now that he had time, he naturally needed to make one sturdier, more durable, and with greater capacity.

"This is a weaving technique unique to northern China. Look—I've cut the birch bark into even thicknesses," Qin Yun explained carefully. "No extra fasteners needed—just align the ends of two strips, weave through them with birch fibers, then gently roast with fire. It becomes extremely strong, rot-resistant, and moisture-proof."

"This weaving method is the 'opposing-joint weave' of the Evenki, an ethnic minority of northern China. It's uniquely Chinese—the baskets and backpacks it produces outlast modern manufactured ones. But due to my current limitations, I've skipped many steps—in reality, it requires over a dozen procedures."

Qin Yun's hands moved at lightning speed, swift and skilled—his technique made viewers dizzy.

Under his deft hands, the outline of a normal-sized backpack began to take shape.

"If I followed the strict process, it would take at least one or two days. But I don't need perfection—just sturdiness. A rough appearance doesn't matter." Qin Yun rose again to gather birch bark.

"By bedtime, I should finish weaving a normal-sized backpack."

Watching Qin Yun's skilled weaving in the camera's frame, some first-time viewers were stunned.

"Damn, does a wilderness survival expert need to know this much?"

"Awesome, Brother Qin is insane—he's literally spreading our culture to the world."

"Solid. Brother Qin is solid."

Around ten at night, Qin Yun stopped. A complete, distinctive shoulder backpack was finished. He slung it across his waist, showed it to the camera, and laughed: "Hahaha, not bad, right? Now I can put a lot of stuff in this backpack."

He unslung the backpack, about to shut off the device and rest, when suddenly he remembered something.

He patted his head: "I almost forgot the fire starter—it's been about six hours since I made it. It should still work."

He pulled out the fire starter and removed the cap.

As expected, faint red embers still glowed. He blew lightly—the flame instantly flared up.

But at that moment, a rumbling sound suddenly rose from the sky, growing louder.

Qin Yun looked up. Through the dim firelight, he saw a massive black shadow flash across the sky, then the sound faded until nothing remained.

"Helicopter? Did someone get eliminated?"

Qin Yun frowned.

It was only the first day—could someone really have been eliminated already?

"I hope it's not Guo Yao." He shook his head silently, turned off the device, and could only think that.