Chapter 55: Drilling Wood to Make Fire

Of the three methods of fire-by-friction, the least labor-intensive is undoubtedly the bow-drill method. Since I currently have a bow and string, all I need is a drill rod, drill plate, and drill cap to make fire using the bow-drill technique.

Qin Yun walked as he spoke, searching along the way for tools suitable for the bow-drill method.

With the bowstring already in hand, his main targets were the drill rod, drill plate, and drill cap. He picked up a straight, dry hardwood stick for the drill rod, about two centimeters in diameter and roughly the same length as his bow.

Then came the drill plate and drill cap—both were simple; anything would do as a substitute.

After walking a distance, he pointed to a herbaceous plant on the ground: “This is perilla. We can use it to replace scallions and ginger for removing fishy odors—it’s a decent natural herb that eliminates stench and enhances aroma. There must be Sichuan pepper here too; let’s keep an eye out, maybe we’ll find some.”

He gathered the items, looked up at the sky, and continued speaking to the camera: “The bow-drill method uses the back-and-forth motion of the bowstring to drive the drill rod into rapid rotation, generating heat through friction against the drill plate to produce fire—an ancient technique. This method is far more efficient than hand-drilling and represents the wisdom of ancient humanity.”

After walking further, Qin Yun suddenly crouched down to examine a pile of feces on the ground, as the camera zoomed in: “See this? It’s wolf droppings. Judging by the weathering, it’s no more than three days old—meaning a wolf passed through here within the last three days.”

“Holy shit, there are wolves too? First wild boars, now wolves? Is the streamer really that unlucky?”

“Whoa, gotta watch, gotta watch! We missed the last time the second senior brother chased the streamer—this time we can’t miss him being chased by wolves.”

"The upstairs people are inhumane, but I like it."

Looking at these comments, Qin Yun laughed bitterly: “You guys have lost your humanity, right? This is a wolf. Wolves are usually pack animals—they appear in groups of four or five at minimum.”

“Judging by the streamer’s calm demeanor, he clearly has a plan. We shouldn’t ruin the mood.”

“Exactly. Streamer is the best.”

“Fight the wolf, fight the wolf, dinosaur fights wolf.”

Qin Yun shook his head, carefully observing the ground, and felt a slight relief—it wasn’t a pack, just a lone wolf.

Wolves are animals both timid and bold, especially lone wolves. As long as their bellies are still full, they won’t take unnecessary risks. But wolf packs are different—through coordinated teamwork, their courage becomes boundless.

Compared to encountering a wolf pack—which he couldn’t avoid if it happened—he preferred to meet a lone wolf.

Of course, the ideal scenario would be a lone wolf that’s already full—then there’d be no conflict between them.

Qin Yun continued forward. Soon, his luck held: he found a patch of sparse vegetation, within a ten-meter radius, only a single raised cave.

He sniffed the air—no stench of large predators. The cave entrance was covered in spiderwebs, clearly uninhabited. This puzzled him.

“Did everyone see that? That’s a cave. Natural caves like this should’ve been claimed by animals long ago. But look at the spiderwebs at the entrance—no large animals are nesting inside. That’s extremely abnormal.”

Qin Yun crouched low at a distance, not daring to rush in recklessly.

“What should the streamer do? Could there be venomous snakes inside?”

“Maybe the inside isn’t suitable for animals to live in—just looks good from outside.”

“True. Animals aren’t stupid. Even venomous creatures can’t deter large predators. I think it’s definitely unsafe inside.”

Qin Yun glanced at the comments and nodded: “You’re right. So I’m going to fly my secondary drone inside to check.”

He pulled out the secondary drone from his backpack, powered it on, and sent it flying toward the cave.

The livestream feed switched to the drone’s perspective. Viewers watched the scene grow closer, all growing tense. After all, humans naturally feel anxiety and fear toward the unknown.

It’s the same when watching movies—when the camera follows the protagonist’s view, your heart always tightens.

Right now, their feelings were identical.

Following the drone’s lens, the scene turned black. Then Qin Yun switched to night vision mode—suddenly, the cave’s interior appeared on screen.

The cave was shallow, easily visible from entrance to back. But what lay inside startled everyone in the livestream—including Qin Yun himself—so much that his hand trembled slightly.

“Holy shit, that snake’s huge… is this real?”

“Prop, right?”

“This… this is as thick as an adult’s waist. Scared the hell out of me.”

On screen, coiled inside the cave was a massive brown-black snake. Its full length was unknown—it was coiled—but its girth was unmistakably as thick as an adult’s waist. Utterly terrifying.

But soon, Qin Yun noticed something odd: the massive brown-black snake was merely a shed skin, not the living creature.

“It’s a shed skin, not the real thing. Thank god.” Qin Yun patted his chest, his voice relaxed. “No wonder no animals dared enter—even just the shed skin’s scent is enough to scare off predators. Animals’ sense of smell is countless times keener than ours.”

Qin Yun flew the drone around inside the cave, confirmed it was safe, then moved forward.

“Friends, tonight I won’t freeze. I can safely make a fire here, and with the presence of this giant snake’s shed skin, I don’t have to worry about large predators attacking me. I can sleep soundly.”

Qin Yun entered the cave, approached the shed skin, and silently whistled—the snake was at least thirteen meters long.

“This is a cinnamon python, also called a reticulated python. Based on its length, it’s about thirteen meters. The current Guinness World Record holder is a reticulated python even longer and thicker than this one. I never expected one to exist in our country—what a wonder of the world.”

“The world is vast, full of wonders. Streamer’s got some serious luck.”

“Thank god it’s just a shed skin—if it were the real thing, the streamer wouldn’t even be enough for one bite.”

“Hahaha, I checked—apparently, there are many pythons this size in the Amazon. They call them anacondas there.”

Viewers discussed the shed skin on screen, sharing their awe and amazement.

Qin Yun didn’t touch the shed skin. He cleaned the cave’s interior, gathered dry grass and dead branches outside, placed all the bow-drill fire-making tools on the ground, positioned the drone, and prepared to make fire.

“Alright, I’m starting fire-by-friction. Wish me luck.”

Outside, the sky slowly darkened. Everyone knew the streamer’s broadcast wouldn’t last much longer.

Qin Yun placed dry grass down beside the drill plate, wrapped the bowstring twice around the drill rod, steadied the drill plate with his foot to prevent slipping, gripped the bow in one hand, and pressed the drill cap onto the rod’s top with the other. He began pulling the bow—the drill rod began spinning.

“666… the streamer’s movements are incredibly smooth.”

“Good job. Hope you succeed.”

Qin Yun increased his speed—the drill rod spun rapidly, generating friction. Soon, grayish smoke rose from the contact point.

“Holy shit, it’s actually smoking.”

“Streamer is awesome. Both the bow and fire-by-friction—everything made from scratch.”

“Almost there, almost there.”

Seeing the smoke thicken, the wood charred, and tiny sparks appear, Qin Yun quickly moved the dry grass near the sparks and blew hard, increasing oxygen contact to accelerate combustion.

Soon, more sparks appeared, smoke filled the air, and with a sudden “whoosh,” the dry grass ignited. Golden light flooded the camera—once-dark cave now brightly lit.

Qin Yun immediately placed the burning grass beneath the prearranged dry branches and gently blew again. Soon, flames roared up.

Success!

“Streamer is awesome! It’s lit! It’s lit!”

“God-tier! If it were me, I’d be starving again tonight—but the streamer can already eat rabbit.”

“Hahaha, the streamer went through all that trouble to light a fire, while I just press a lighter.”

“You’re the best!”

A flood of gifts appeared on screen. Qin Yun thanked viewers and smiled: “Fire and water are essential for human survival. With fire, we no longer need to live like savages.”

“Luckily, last night I had foresight—I dug a big pit and stored plenty of water. Even though I’ve used some along the way, it’s enough to kill a rabbit, clean it, and roast it.”

As soon as Qin Yun finished speaking, a barrage of trolls flooded the screen:

“Fuck, idiot streamer, you’ve got a lighter but refuse to use it, acting like a savage, drilling wood for fire? What the fuck.”

“This streamer’s brain is damaged. Hope you get eaten by wolves tonight.”

“What are you showing off for? Living fine, yet you go into the wild. When you go missing, you’ll make our firefighters waste time. Trash.”

“Are you fucking stupid? Got cheated on by your wife? Come here to show off?”

Naturally, fans rushed to defend him, immediately firing back.

“Oh? The loyalists show up.”

“Fuck you…”

Qin Yun frowned, preparing to ban the first few who insulted him. But then, a flood of Carnival gifts swept across the screen, completely covering all comments.

“BoLang sent ten Carnivals…”

“Holy shit, this guy’s rich. Just sent ten Carnivals a few hours ago, now again? Streamer’s hit the jackpot.”

“Another thirty thousand. Awesome. Respect.”

“The world of the rich—I want to experience it too.”

“Thank you, BoLang, for the Carnivals. Thank you so much—you’ve spent too much.” Qin Yun was delighted. Who doesn’t love receiving gifts? Livestreaming is all about making money.

“Ignore the trolls,” BoLang replied.

Qin Yun smiled. He didn’t care about trolls—as long as they didn’t disrupt his stream.

“If you don’t like me, just leave. No need to stay and insult me—it only proves your low character, nothing else.”

He shot back at a troll, then got to work.

To avoid being banned, he pointed the camera only at himself, cleaning the fur and organs while speaking.

“For this wilderness trip, besides my livestream gear, I brought only two sets of clothes—nothing else. No seasonings, obviously. But it’s fine—we’ve gathered plenty of natural herbs along the way. They can’t replace salt, but at least they eliminate the fishy smell. Even if the taste is bad, it won’t be terrible.”

Soon, Qin Yun conserved water, rinsed the rabbit roughly, then skewered it with an arrow and placed it over the bonfire.

Qin Yun pulled the camera back, including both the bonfire and himself in the frame.

“It’s completely dark now. Time is 6:30 PM. Temperature’s dropping, but inside the cave, it’s much better than outside—windproof too. Plus, I’m right next to the fire—I feel no cold at all.”

Watching the rabbit meat sizzle and drip oil, some viewers drooled.

"Without salt, the taste must be awful—but just looking at the scene, it looks delicious."

“Hahaha, I’m hungry too. But I’ve already ordered roast duck—I’ll eat that for dinner.”

“I’m eating instant noodles. Fuck, mine’s worse than the streamer’s. Life’s brutal.”

Qin Yun sprinkled a bit of Sichuan pepper on the meat—immediately, the aroma filled the air. He couldn’t wait.

He tore off a rabbit leg, stared at the golden meat, and took a huge bite. His face lit up with satisfaction.

“Ah, finally got meat! These past two days, I only ate insects and wild fruit—I was starving.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a roar echoed.

“Aoooo—wuuu!”

Qin Yun froze mid-motion. The chat paused for a heartbeat, then exploded with comments.

“Holy shit, what was that sound?”

"Is that a wolf's howl? Damn, is there really a wolf?"

"Host, run away—!"