This meal was the most delicious one Henry Clark had eaten since coming to this world.

That night, the village was very quiet, with nothing unusual happening.

The next morning, William Clark once again went into the mountains to hunt and gather wild fruits and vegetables, while Olivia Smith continued to dig in the fields.

That day, Aunt Niu’s family still hadn’t returned, as if they had vanished into thin air.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, ten days had passed.

During these ten days, the village remained peaceful, with nothing out of the ordinary, and the trace of unease in Henry Clark’s heart gradually faded away.

William Clark didn’t have a harvest every day, but on average, every two or three days, he would bring back some wild game—sometimes a pheasant, sometimes a rabbit...

With the nourishment of meat, Henry Clark’s body recovered very quickly. After ten days, he was fully healed, looking completely refreshed.

At this point, Henry Clark began to think about learning to hunt from William Clark.

To survive in this world, it was impossible without a skill.

For now, he couldn’t practice martial arts, but learning to hunt was still an option.

Hunting involved archery, which could be used for self-defense in critical moments. On the road as refugees, William Clark had relied on a hunting bow many times to deter those with ill intentions.

After breakfast that day, Henry Clark was just about to speak when he heard the sound of crying not far away.

“That’s Aunt Hai’s voice.”

“What’s going on?”

“Let’s go take a look.”

William Clark grabbed his hunting bow and went out the door, with Henry Clark and Olivia Smith following behind.

Aunt Hai’s house was right next door, just over ten meters away. As they stepped outside, they saw several burly men coming out of her house, carrying a few bags that were clearly filled with grain.

“Please leave us some food. If you take it all, how will our family survive?”

A woman chased after them, crying loudly.

“Get lost. If you keep shouting, I’ll break your legs.”

One of the men slapped Aunt Hai across the face, sending her stumbling backward until she fell to the ground, one side of her face swelling up instantly.

“Mom, mom, what’s wrong? Wuwuwu...”

A thin, frail little girl of about seven or eight ran out, clinging to Aunt Hai’s arm and crying helplessly.

“It’s them.”

Henry Clark gritted his teeth in secret.

He recognized these men—they were notorious scoundrels and bandits from the refugee road.

Their names were Charles Foster, Robert Thompson, and Michael Thompson.

It was said that the three of them had been apprentices at a martial arts school for a few years. Although they hadn’t learned much, they were still stronger than most people, especially the leader, Charles Foster, who was extremely strong and skilled in boxing—three or four ordinary men couldn’t get close to him.

On the road as refugees, they were lazy and never looked for food themselves. Whenever someone else found food, they would seize it by force.

Some people had their food stolen by them and ended up starving to death.

The three had once tried to rob Henry Clark and his family of their food, but were scared off by William Clark’s hunting bow.

Now, it was obvious that the grain they had borrowed had been squandered, and they were targeting other people’s food again.

Charles Foster also saw William Clark, Henry Clark, and Olivia Smith. He licked his lips, a malicious glint in his eyes, and strode toward them.

“Yan’er, step back.”

William Clark shielded Henry Clark behind him, gripping his hunting bow and standing ready.

Chapter 3: Daoist Text

Charles Foster stopped ten paces away and laughed, “William Clark, don’t be nervous. I’m just passing by.”

Then, with Robert Thompson and Michael Thompson, he swaggered away.

“Aunt Hai’s family is in trouble now.”

Olivia Smith sighed.

With the borrowed grain stolen, they would have to rely on wild vegetables and fruits to stave off hunger. When winter came and the wild plants froze and withered, it would be even harder to find food.

Aunt Hai’s husband, James Foster, was obviously out working, but even if he were home, he wouldn’t be able to stop Charles Foster and his gang.

Watching Aunt Hai and her daughter crying and holding each other, Henry Clark sighed.

All he could do was feel sympathy. As for giving them food, that was impossible—they barely had enough for themselves.

What a damned world.

“I won’t go hunting in the mountains for the next few days.”

William Clark said.

They already had a grudge with Charles Foster and his group. If he went hunting and wasn’t there to deter them, Charles Foster and the others might come to steal their food, and Henry Clark and Olivia Smith wouldn’t be able to stop them.

“Dad, I want to learn hunting from you.”

At this moment, Henry Clark spoke up.

“Alright, I’ll teach you at home these next few days.”

William Clark agreed after a brief pause, which surprised Henry Clark a little.

In his memory, William Clark had never taught him to hunt before, only encouraged him to study and aim for scholarly success. He hadn’t expected such a straightforward agreement today.

But then again, the world was getting more chaotic, the status of scholars was declining, and there was no place for them anymore. After more than a month as refugees, it was normal for William Clark to change his mind.

“Hunting involves archery, traps, tracking, and more. The most important is archery, so I’ll teach you that first. Wait here, I’ll make you a bow.”

William Clark said.

William Clark was a veteran hunter of over ten years, so making an ordinary hunting bow was no problem for him. He used oak for the bow, tough vines soaked and twisted for the string, and bamboo for the arrows. By the next morning, a brand new hunting bow was ready.

“Yan’er, come with me.”