When I restored the desert island to its former state, it took almost two years.

Admittedly, I've never seen myself working so hard, with layers of calluses rolling up from my hands and shedding my skin strangely, and I'm really not surprised by this, or whatever the reason for keeping my body in my early thirties at all times, I won't explore it anymore, let it go.

I really can't call this a "ring fortification", because it is far beyond the scope of fortifications, or I can call it a "fortress", the hard mud bricks are lined with countless fine logs to provide enough cushion for the outer layer of its sturdy skeleton, although it is not high enough, in fact in two years, no matter how hard I try, it has only been built from the surface of the ground more than four meters high.

You don't know how hard it is to fix this thing, I've thought about giving up countless times because it took me a year just to flatten the surface and strengthen the foundation.

But I believe that with the existence of this fortress, not to mention those earthen bows and crossbows, even the powerful crossbows of the evil spirits shot from the sea will not be able to defeat this big guy.

Do you think that's what I'm going to live on?

It's not that simple.

As the saying goes, there are three holes in the cunning rabbit, on the side of the gentle slope by the sea, I also built a rope ladder down more than 30 meters, once the gentle slope is lost, I can slip away in less than a minute, along the grain field straight to the edge of the lost forest, there is a hidden hole where I hoard too much grain and equipment, as long as I get there, I immediately hide in the stone house in the lost forest, and touch the stone tablet mechanism again...... I believe that thousands of troops will not want to break in.

Of course, this is definitely a last resort to save myself, because as long as I enter the Lost Forest, it will be difficult for people outside to threaten me, and I myself will never want to come out of that unlucky place again for the rest of my life, and I can only be accompanied by countless white meat insects for the rest of my life, don't ask me how I know, that is a bloody lesson.

But those who know me well know that there is a spirit in my bones that "if you don't die, you won't die", and if you are almost fifty years old according to your physical age, you still have this dross in your heart.

By the halfway point of my third year back on the island, the fort had been built more than seven meters high, and the top had been demolished and repaired and repaired and dismantled, whether it was exhaust or drainage, I had repaired this thing impeccably, and it was safe and sound after countless baptisms of scorching sun and typhoons, and even when the worst hurricane hit, I hid in a cave covered by the fortress without feeling the power of the hurricane at all.

But when I swore that I would never repair another meter upward, another question came up, what am I repairing this thing for?

Defense?

But my experience has taught me that as long as I don't provoke the blood clans, including Huya and Dandan, no one will run to me for no reason.

So, what else can this fortress be used for?

Above all, I had to drag my primitive hoe to the grain fields during the planting season, and stay for a day, and if the enemy attacked at this time, and it happened that a small part of the enemy could climb through the outer labyrinth, then the fortress would not be my umbrella, but a refuge for them, and my handcuffs and birds would not be able to penetrate such a thick brick wall.

When I think about this, an inexplicable frustration hits my heart, and after all, I have made a special appearance, just like the big ship I built nine years ago that ran aground in the woods and could never enter the water, and could only be regarded as a "giant souvenir".

This frustration drove me to death in a drunken sleep in the gentle slope fortress for three days, and it wasn't until the six bottles of Moutai and all the stored rabbit jerky were exhausted that I figured out the reason.

It wasn't some giant piece of waste, but a giant warning sign of the mistakes I had made that ultimately killed me, including "unconditional trust" and "compromise without a boundary", and "treating the natives too seriously".

So, this fortress used to warn myself was placed in the same position in my heart as the statue of Lao Tan that I had re-carved, and the statue was placed on the gentle slope closest to the rising sun, and the last afterglow in the fortress disappeared from the middle of the more than ninety pillars of the fortress.

In order to make it easier to record the date, the statue of Lao Tan was carved out by me with countless scratches, each of which was a different time when the sun rose, until one of the shallow marks could not be surpassed by others, and I knew that this day was the summer solstice, that is, the 19th day of May in the lunar calendar.

I recorded the column in the fort in the same way, and of course I engraved the date of the winter solstice on it, but frankly, on this desert island where there is no winter at all, the day of the winter solstice is really of no use.

Whether or not the island is in the southern hemisphere, it means a lot to me to determine the date of the summer solstice.

At least I don't have to peek at the frequency of many male and female rabbits "popping" every spring and autumn, and then judge the time of sowing seeds.

Of course, I never imagined that these things would be removed by later generations, moved to the British Isles, or copied or recreated as their place of prayer, and as they aged and forgotten, they were eventually left with bare stone pillars, which the Britons called "Stonehenge".

In the four years that I have built the area around the gentle slope to my satisfaction, I have indeed had the idea of going to the Beast Mountains to collect ore and smelt it into farming tools and weapons when I return, but every time I do so, I will give myself a warning slap in the face.

Yes, the toothed cat beast there is by no means a joke, the escape nine years ago was a complete fluke, but time has passed, this time "return to the island", I have not seen the little cat beast, I don't know what it is now, will it give me another chance to "luck".

But this question was answered by a strange cry in the sky one morning, you know, cats can't fly, and the only thing that can fly is the evil spirit crow of fish balls.

Yes, Lao Tzu made a thousand calculations but missed one thing, I forgot about this gentle slope... It was originally the burial place of the distant ancestors of the evil spirit crows, and I forgot that they returned here at about the same time nine years ago, and almost killed me and Dandan.

But the biggest headache for me is not these flying beasts, but the person who is inseparable from these miscellaneous pieces, the black-haired child who looks like he is only ten years old, fish balls!