On December 19th, when the island was nearly engulfed in darkness, two indigenous people followed Chen Zhou back to the cabin.
The moon had gone from full to waning.
The dim mountain path was illuminated by bright moonlight, and the lush crops swayed in the wind. The lookout tower inside the walls lit its lamps once again.
...
Duoduo Lu and Ah Tun sat on the edge of the bed covered with a mattress, staring intently at the oil lamp on the bedside cabinet.
Everything they saw and heard today was entirely new to them, unheard of experiences, even the work they did was something they had never done before, fresh endeavors.
From the cart pushed by Chen Zhou, to the camp at the foot of the mountain, the wooden and stone wall on the beach, and that menacingly hefty armor.
Then to the fishing rod in Chen Zhou's hand, the bonfire that didn't require wood-drilling to ignite, and the deliciously flavored grilled fish...
Life after being rescued was far from as bad as they imagined.
