King of the Wilderness

He took a deep breath, as if conducting a sacred ritual. He extended his gloved, slightly trembling fingers, and with extreme slowness and solemnity, turned the four dials.

With the fourth dial, slowly, accompanied by a slight ”click,” finally in place - ”4”.

”1...9...8...4...”

As the final digit settled, the world seemed to fall silent, and he could hear his own heartbeat. He placed his thumb on the cold metal switch and gently pressed.

”Click!”

A sound was extremely slight, yet at this moment sounded as clear as thunder, resonating as the metal spring’s sound rang out!

The code lock, which had previously resisted even a hatchet, and the firm switch that thwarted all his attempts, sprung open half a centimeter to the side!

”Success!”

A great, indescribable joy surged across his heart.

This was not just about opening a box; it was a triumph through sheer intellect and logical deduction over a puzzle posed by an Unknown Civilization!

The accomplishment yielded by such an intellectual victory was far stronger than finding food or tools.

He disarmed the remaining three equally sturdy locks one by one; each emitted a satisfying ”click” as it sprang open.

He placed his hand on the edge of the lid, took a deep breath, and with a touch of solemnity, slowly lifted the lid.

A scent of dry plastic and paper, sealed for years, poured forth.

The inside of the lid boasted a thick, black O-ring seal, perfectly intact, which ensured the contents’ complete isolation from the harsh outside world.

Everything inside was as dry as when first stored.

However, when he saw the contents clearly, the great joy from decoding quickly cooled as if doused in icy water, replaced by a complex mix of disappointment, puzzlement, ultimately simmering into reverence.

There wasn’t any of what he imagined.

No high-energy compressed biscuits, no emergency medication, no signal flares, nor the longed-for lighter or multi-functional tools.

Inside the box, the thick black cushioning foam flawlessly divided it into several compartments.

In the largest section, neatly stacked were files encapsulated in thick, sealant-lined transparent waterproof bags, and through the bags, he saw A4 sheets printed with complex charts, function curves, and dense formulas.

Beside the files, within an independent groove, lay a laptop encased in special cushioning materials and its shell extremely sturdy. He instinctively pressed the power button, but the screen showed no response, evidently out of power.

Next to the computer, in the smallest groove, quietly lay a hardbound A5-sized journal. The journal cover was dark blue, printed in silver font with a logo of abstract mountain and wave lines.

Below the logo was a clear line of English text.

(Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution - Polar Environment Research Department)

”Looks like we’ve found a scientist’s intellectual legacy.” Lin Yu’an carefully extracted the journal, its touch cold and solid.

He opened the first page. The title page bore the ownership details in strong, somewhat unruly handwritten English.

(Property of: Dr. MacKeez Rain)

(Project: Arctic Low-temperature Microbiology and Bio-Signal Research)

”MacKeez Rain...” Lin Yu’an muttered this name, and instantly all the cold items in the box suddenly had an owner.

He continued flipping through. The contents verified his initial impression of ”Dr. Mac.” Most pages were filled with meticulous observation data, ice core sample numbers, and environmental parameters, the handwriting as neat as print.

But what truly captivated him were those notes in a more casual font written in the margins. They were like windows giving insight into the true character of this scientist.

Next to a table recording the minus forty-degree temperature, she drew an angry little figure exhaling white breath, with a note beside.

(Seriously? Does my face need to feel like it’s about to split open? Reminder: invent a mask with a heating function.)

Under another page analyzing complex data, she wrote: (I’ve found it! The peak of respiration perfectly matches the meltwater plume events! I need a beer. Or ten. J.C. owes me that beer.)

Lin Yu’an’s eyes were drawn to ”I’ve found it!” With curiosity, he flipped to the last few pages of the journal, where it seemed she recorded her core discoveries.

These pages differed starkly from the earlier routine entries.

The handwriting had become extraordinarily messy, excited, and in some spots even tore the paper due to excessive force.

The pages were filled with arrows, circles, and spontaneous diagrams explaining her thought process.

Next to a hand-drawn sketch simulating the water flow beneath ice shelves, she used all caps, almost shouting with her letters.

(It’s not just about temperature! The metabolic rate of psychrophilic microorganisms doesn’t entirely rely on thermal changes!)

Immediately following was a passage even more excited and nearly indecipherable, of which Lin Yu’an could barely understand the essence:

(”The key is the influx of nutrients from subglacial discharge! Ancient carbon sources released from beneath melting glaciers are the true triggers! It’s a feast for them.”)

”When the freshwater plume arrives, they don’t just ’wake up,’ they’re throwing a damn party! That explains the massive and short-lived peaks of methane bio-signals we’ve constantly detected!”

”This is a direct, measurable connection between glacier melting and greenhouse gases at the microbial level! My god! This could change the entire climate feedback model!”

Reading this, Lin Yu’an, although unable to fully grasp the scientific principles involved, could clearly feel the immense excitement and euphoria bursting from between the lines.

It’s a kind of excitement at the highest level, one that belongs to scientists discovering a new continent and revealing fundamental rules of the world.

He could almost see Dr. Mac, trembling all over, writing these words under the dim light, his eyes shimmering with brilliance comparable to the aurora.

Between the lines not only emanates a rigorous and focused spirit for research but also a fervor for science.

This constructed an incredibly vivid image in his mind—a smart, resilient, interesting, and incredibly cool young scientist.

He closed the journal and noticed that on the inner side of the journal cover, there was a transparent layer specially designed for inserting cards.

Inside the layer was her ID card from the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution.

With his fingertips, Lin Yu’an carefully pulled the card out.

When he saw the photo on the ID card, he couldn’t help but hold his breath; twenty-some days of isolated life made his heart race.

He didn’t bring Aliya’s photo on this challenge as part of his strategy to completely immerse himself in it!

And this work card was not at all a standard process photo with a serious facial expression.

The person in the photo looked about twenty-five or six, with casually draped dark brown curly hair, lit from the side to make her silhouette appear soft and dimensional.

Her head was slightly tilted, gazing directly and honestly at the camera, with a hint of inquiry and challenge, her lips slightly parted as if ready to say something witty.

The small metal nose ring on her nose reflected light, adding a rebellious color to her rigorous ”doctor” identity.

The photo was cropped perfectly, she wore a dark V-neck top, the same one described in the journal’s earlier rants.

And the blue ’Demon’s Eye’ necklace acting as a protective talisman lay quietly between her collarbones.

Below her collarbones was his heated anchor point, his gaze not drawn to it repeatedly.

Lin Yu’an finally managed to shift his gaze elsewhere through sheer determination.

This photo perfectly distilled a small card of a personality rich in individuality and unconstrained freedom.

He finally understood that the fresh image in the journal complaining about the weather and yearning for beer was the same person as this straightforward-eyed, tattoo-and-nose-ring-wearing cool girl before him.

She wasn’t merely a symbol defined by a ’doctor’ title; she was a multi-faceted and interesting person, a brave explorer pouring her entire passion into this cold world.

Lin Yu’an looked at it one last time, then carefully put the ID card back in its original place.

He could imagine that this non-conforming yet personality-rich ID photo might have been her little silent protest against the tedious regulations.

He sat there silently for a long time.

”These things have no direct use for my survival at the moment.”

”Even a piece of iron suitable for forging or a fish jerky that I could eat holds more practical value than everything here.”

His gaze again fell on the items in the box, finally landing on the closed journal.

”But for this girl named Dr. MacKeez Rain, this contains all of her—her intellect, effort, sense of humor, and her future path...”

He placed the journal and all items back in the box as they were.

”I can’t leave it here, letting it be swept away by the next storm or permanently buried in ice and snow.”

”Once this challenge is over, I’ll contact the program team to find her through this information.”

”Hopefully, she and her companion J.C. are safe and sound. She should get these things back and then go drink those ten beers J.C. owes her.”

He closed the box lid, fastening each of the four locks with a dull ’click.’

This ’mystery box’ didn’t give him the survival gear he most desired, but instead opened up a weighty sense of responsibility and an impressively vivid unknown face.

At this desolate Labrador Coastline, Lin Yu’an couldn’t help but grow curious about her.

He strapped the dark green box with a nylon rope to his back, took one last look at the coastline, and turned, starting to head back towards the shelter.

Lin Yu’an understood that his survival strategy would need to change again.

The ocean’s offerings had ended, and he must seek other food sources.

———

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