Noon.
Linghu Wetland Park.
Due to last night's blizzard, the pine forest was covered in a white blanket, with the dazzling snow shining brightly under the noon sun.
A young man was panting lightly, stealthily exhaled white mist, and looked up toward the south entrance of the park.
Twisted rebar hung with icicles, with a wooden plank wide as a table anchored at the highest point, bearing a series of numbers.
"404."
He stared at the wooden sign for a while before Yu Hu softly read out the numbers.
This was a method taught by Old Charlie, and it had recently become a habit.
The idea was to silently read out any words seen on the road that one could recognize and quietly count the strokes in one's mind.
The more one recognized, the more familiar one became.
This method proved quite effective. Recently, he had learned to write his own name, Little Fish, as well as those of his parents, his brother, and his sister-in-law, in addition to basic numbers and arithmetic operations.
