Chapter One: The Snowy Forest

Crunching footsteps sounded on the snow beneath his feet.

Zhao Weimin halted, standing atop the vast, white expanse, and drew a sharp breath, startled by the sight before him.

The snowfields stretched out, pine trees bowed low under thick blankets of snow.

All around was a gray, misty haze, the cold fog enveloping everything.

It resembled a wintry apocalypse—no sign of life anywhere!

He exhaled, blowing warmth into his cupped hands. The steam curled in the air, only to crystallize swiftly in the biting cold.

His thin sweater was useless, his hair frozen into icy shards, his lips tinged purple and blue.

The wind howled through the pines, making each breath a struggle.

There was nothing here but snow and pine trees; the deep forest felt like another world entirely.

Loneliness and cold pressed in, suffocating.

Were it not for the threat of freezing to death, Zhao Weimin would never have believed he’d find himself in such a place.

Just moments ago, he’d been filming a wilderness survival show for a production team.

In 2025, he was a survival expert on par with the likes of Bear Grylls and Ed Stafford.

But a sudden fall from a cliff, and when he woke again, he was in 1960.

From renowned survivalist to a starving, ordinary hunter.

Now, urgency left him no room for shock or panic.

Survival was the only goal!

…

The previous owner of this body had struggled to survive in harsh conditions.

Just eighteen, he’d married Lin Qian, the youngest daughter of a fellow village hunter.

He usually followed his older brother into the mountains to hunt.

His wife, Lin Qian, managed all the household chores.

Even in the dead of winter, she washed cloth diapers for her sister-in-law’s newborn.

Her hands were swollen, covered in chilblains and cracks.

Despite all this, the couple was still unwelcome in the household.

All because the original owner was a poor hunter.

His family resented them for eating more than they contributed.

The sister-in-law often picked on Lin Qian, sometimes even beat her when the husband was away hunting.

Usually for things like not washing the diapers or clothes clean enough.

Lin Qian, gentle and obedient, never complained.

She endured in silence.

Until one day, the husband noticed a fresh cut on his wife’s back.

Only then did he realize she had been suffering in silence.

Outraged, he took Lin Qian and left to start a new household.

If they hadn’t left, his wife might have been beaten to death by her sister-in-law!

But after leaving the family, he realized he didn’t know the mountains as well as his older brother.

In the snowy forests of the northeast, life depended on hunting and gathering.

With little experience, he struggled to hunt or even find wild goods.

The couple lived in a dilapidated cabin on the mountain, so poor they could barely scrape together a meal.

If the cold didn’t kill them, hunger would.

His wife’s health was already fragile, and with no food for days, she was bedridden.

If they didn’t eat soon, she wouldn’t last much longer.

…

Zhao Weimin breathed into his frozen hands again.

If he didn’t catch something soon, the two of them wouldn’t survive the winter.

Even if not for the original owner or his wife, for his own sake—he had to survive!

With this in mind, he pressed forward, trudging through the snow.

Lacking even a gun or bow, the original owner had set traps throughout the snowy forest, hoping to snare a passing rabbit or deer.

But perhaps he truly knew nothing of hunting.

He’d buried snares of horsehair in the snow, hoping to fool prey.

But even if animals passed by, the traps wouldn’t trigger.

The original owner’s traps were amateurish—unscientific.

He had few hunting tools, just a blunt hunter’s knife, barely sharp enough to pierce an animal’s heart.

Yet he dared to hunt in the mountains with just this.

If he was lucky, he wouldn’t be mauled by a bear, though he’d likely freeze to death anyway!

However…

In his previous shows, Zhao Weimin was known for realism and hardship.

He was always alone, abandoned in extreme environments.

No team, no rescue.

His only equipment was a handheld camera and a few batteries.

At the start, he’d at least get a small knife and a horsehair snare.

Compared to that, this was a windfall!

These tools were more than enough for him.

So, Zhao Weimin dismantled the original owner’s traps.

After examining them and ensuring they were usable, he crouched down to observe the snow.

Though the mountains were sealed by snow, animals still moved about.

They left tracks, urine, and droppings.

For a survivalist, reading animal tracks was essential for finding prey and protecting oneself.

Finding prey through such details was the key to survival.

Soon, beneath a birch tree, he found a patch of yellow urine.

Nearby, there were a few paw prints.

It looked like a snow hare!

The discovery thrilled Zhao Weimin, making him forget the cold as he set about arranging a trap.

He drove three twigs into the ground in a triangle, fastening the horsehair loop to one with a notched stick.

The other end was tied to a bent pine branch.

If an animal passed through, the spring of the branch would tighten the snare.

The loop wasn’t big—at most it could catch a hare.

Animals naturally prefer easy paths.

So one must block clear routes and open new ones, guiding prey toward the trap.

With his wealth of survival experience, Zhao Weimin quickly improved the original snares.

But one trap wasn’t enough—he needed more to increase his chances.

A hunter never relies on a single trap!

Just as he was about to find another spot to set a trap—

A weak voice called from behind.

“Weimin, have something to eat.”

He turned to see Lin Qian, her face purple from the cold, clutching a cornbread bun as she staggered toward him.

He rushed over, pulling her into his arms. “Your health is fragile. What are you doing out here?”

Lin Qian managed a smile. “I helped Second Aunt down the mountain wash some clothes. She gave me two buns. I ate one—you should eat the other.”

He glanced at the bun in her hands, then at her blue lips.

She didn’t look like she’d eaten a thing—likely hadn’t even had a sip of water.

Even though Zhao Weimin felt no connection to Lin Qian, he was moved by her tenderness.

“I’m not hungry yet,” he said, pushing the bun back. “I’ll save room for meat tonight.”

“Meat?” Lin Qian swallowed instinctively. “Where would we get meat?”

“Just watch,” Zhao Weimin replied, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Tonight, we’ll have roast rabbit.”