Both hands picked tea simultaneously on either side, only plucking the tender new buds from the tea branches.

With every sweep of the hands, several newly grown, tender green leaf buds leapt into the basket on his back.

His arms moved so quickly that only a blurred fan-shaped shadow could be seen, accompanied by a dense, faint clicking sound.

Even more efficient than the brushes of a robotic vacuum.

His clothes were soon soaked with dew, and the basket filled with leaf buds at a speed visible to the naked eye. After emptying it into a large bamboo basket, he continued with the next round.

When Uncle Silent returned from picking tea, Henry Clark was sitting in a daze on the stone step at the doorway, as if pondering some profound philosophy of life.

Seeing Uncle Silent, Henry Clark snapped out of it and glanced at the time on his phone. “You finished picking tea so quickly?”

The mist had dispersed, and the sunlight began to warm the earth, but there was still a hint of moisture in the air.

Uncle Silent put down the bamboo basket and replied on his phone, “Wait two hours before going down the mountain. I’ll process the tea and give you two cans.”

Henry Clark: “…Alright, thank you, Uncle Silent.”

I didn’t plan to go down the mountain right away!

I still want to gather more information!

But Uncle Silent quickly moved on to the tea processing stage, looking extremely focused. He even set aside his phone, which he always kept on him, and wouldn’t let Henry Clark help.

Henry Clark could only wait.

Two hours passed. Uncle Silent finished, separated out some tea, packed it into two special cans, and handed them to Henry Clark: “Wait two days before drinking.”

With both food and gifts in hand, Henry Clark felt embarrassed not to pay, and was about to say something.

Uncle Silent waved his hand casually and typed a few words on his phone: “It’s not about the money! Hurry on back, someone else will tell you the rest.”

Henry Clark wanted to ask about the ancestral house, the family genealogy, and also wanted to inquire about the old housekeeper and the grandaunt, but hearing Uncle Silent’s words now, he realized he wouldn’t get any useful information.

He was clearly being sent away.

Henry Clark packed up the tea cans, tidied up a bit, and looked at Uncle Silent.

Uncle Silent made a gesture: Hurry up!

Henry Clark sighed inwardly, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked out. He hadn’t gone far when he heard a voice message from behind, probably sent by one of Uncle Silent’s friends—

[Get online! We’re one short for mahjong!!!]

Henry Clark turned around and saw Uncle Silent typing rapidly while heading back into the house.

The old man really was quite busy.

Sighing, Henry Clark headed down the mountain.

This time, he wasn’t wearing a helmet or face mask, and had put his gloves in his bag.

He somehow knew that it would be fine even without the helmet and mask.

There were more and more flying insects about, but on the way down, as Henry Clark passed by, the insects actively avoided him, as if they sensed some unpleasant scent.

When he was about halfway down the mountain, Henry Clark saw the two people who had driven him up the day before.

The two of them were unloading large boxes from the car, then carrying them to the quarantine area and placing them on a machine. The machine would transfer the boxes to the other side of the quarantine net and then dump out the contents.

The boxes were full of rats.

Judging by their plump bodies and glossy fur, these rats had been living quite well.

Henry Clark went over to greet the two, but this time didn’t ask them for a ride down the mountain. Having just accomplished something big, even though his doubts had only increased, he felt much more at ease than when he’d arrived yesterday, and wasn’t tired.

“Heading back?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, what are you guys doing?” Henry Clark walked over.

“Feeding the rats to them. We have to do this every few days—resource utilization, you know. These rats are brought in from the city. They’re so fat, who knows how much they’ve stolen to eat.”

After dumping out another box, the two looked at the cauliflower snakes on the other side of the quarantine net.

“Why does it seem like there are fewer snakes today?”

“They’re definitely less active than before, acting all timid,” the other said.

“But judging by how fiercely they’re swallowing the rats, they don’t look sick at all.”

“Maybe it’s because it rained last night and the mountain’s still a bit cool. Once it warms up a bit more, they’ll probably get more active.”

Hearing this, Henry Clark walked over for a closer look.

“Not afraid of snakes anymore?” one of them asked.

Henry Clark paused, then nodded. “Doesn’t feel as scary anymore.”

It really wasn’t as frightening as yesterday.

Just like he somehow knew the mosquitoes and bugs would avoid him, he also seemed to know:

[These gluttons can’t hurt me!]

To test it, Henry Clark took another step closer to the quarantine net.

On the other side, a king rat snake over two meters long, with a body thicker than an adult’s forearm, was swallowing a rat. When Henry Clark approached, it suddenly froze, slowly turned around, awkwardly twisted its body to move farther away, and then continued eating.

Not just that one—other snakes nearby, whether they were eating or about to start, all quickly moved away as well.

The two people in charge of feeding were astonished: “Why are they suddenly afraid of people? Aren’t they usually pretty aggressive?”

Normally, this group of king rat snakes would keep eating even with people watching nearby. It was the first time they’d seen them act so “shy.”

But the two didn’t think much of it, guessing that maybe Henry Clark had sprayed some kind of snake repellent.