Excitedly, Chu Yuan rubbed his hands together. It wasn't that he didn't fear the chest might be a trap, but rather that he trusted the System. After all, during the newbie period, wasn't he just supposed to open chests? Could there really be a monster inside that would open its maw and swallow him whole? If so, then this was "Nightmare Level" difficulty from the start—how the f*ck was he supposed to survive!
Creak——!
The sound of friction from the hinges rang out as the chest opened. Simultaneously, the smell of decaying wood, dampness, the pungent scent of tubers, and the odor of old metal rushed straight into Chu Yuan's nose.
In that instant, a blue holographic light screen popped up before his eyes, and the System's voice chimed in his ears at just the right moment.
[Congratulations, Player, for opening the chest! You have received:]
Old Iron Axe x1
Tree Felling Manual x1
Hanging Pot x1
Hurricane Lantern x1
Flint x2
500g Bag of Grain Salt x1
All-purpose Seasoning Pack x3
Radish x1
Cabbage x1
Carrot x1
Potato x1
Gold Coin x1
... ...
"Holy sht...! Holy sht!! I'm rich, so many items!?"
Chu Yuan jumped up in excitement. This motherf*cker practically solved almost all his survival problems in one go. Was he really this lucky?
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"I truly am the protagonist!!"
"Hahahaha, this master is the protagonist! You side characters can go find your way to death!!" Chu Yuan thought, indulging in his Chuunibyou-style delusions.
"Phew, a bit too 'Chuuni' there. You have to stay calm, Chu Yuan. Don't get cocky, don't get cocky, or you'll flip your boat in a ditch!"
Despite advising himself like that, the corners of his mouth were harder to suppress than an AK's recoil.
Regaining his composure, he looked into the chest and saw all the items neatly arranged.
Chu Yuan picked up the old iron axe. He saw that the blade was speckled with orange rust spots, but the sharp edge still shimmered with a metallic glint. The handle was made of oak; though the surface was a bit old and dusty, its polished smoothness was still visible.
"Good stuff! Tomorrow, I'll enhance you!"
This iron axe directly solved his lack of tools. Transitioning from the primitive era of bare hands to the Iron Age was just that fast.
Setting the axe aside, Chu Yuan picked up the Tree Felling Manual. The cover was made of cowhide but had some yellowed stains. Opening it, the pages inside contained text accompanied by hand-drawn illustrations on how to fell timber accurately and properly. It helped avoid the pitfalls and mistakes beginners often make. At the back, there was also a guide on how to distinguish various types of trees and their uses.
The manual wasn't very thick, about 2 cm, but it was comprehensive and detailed.
As for the hanging pot, it was a pitch-black cast-iron pot with a semi-circular handle. It was somewhat heavy, with a thick layer of soot clinging to the bottom. Beside the pot was a three-legged stand with chains to hook the handle for cooking.
The hurricane lantern had a nostalgic design. Its moss-green iron casing was peeling. Chu Yuan lifted it; it felt light as a feather. He opened the fuel reservoir at the bottom and poked his finger in to check, only to touch the cold, dry metal. The white wick lay motionless behind the glass protector, as desolate as a soulless corpse.
"There's a lamp but no oil!"
Chu Yuan was slightly disappointed, but it was fine; he still had the campfire to provide light at night.
The flints were two dark gray stones with sharp, hard edges. From now on, he didn't have to worry about the fire going out.
The rest were a bag of pure white grain salt and three seasoning packs that emitted the aroma of pepper, garlic, onion, and chili. From now on, his food wouldn't be bland anymore.
Friends all know that humans cannot live without salt, as salt is an essential electrolyte for maintaining life, supporting fluid balance, maintaining nerve function, and aiding muscle contraction and digestion.
In addition, the four types of tubers and vegetables were equally important. Their appearance was still fresh, even with a bit of dry soil clinging to them as if they had just been pulled from the earth. They would be Chu Yuan's breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Finally, there was that gold coin. Chu Yuan picked it up and examined it. The coin was about 3.5 cm in diameter and 3 mm thick, feeling as heavy as a small pebble. It possessed the deep, dense, silent golden hue of pure solid gold.
In the center of the front side was a finely embossed symbol of the "Eternal Flame," with long, supple flickering sparks that seemed to actually be blazing in his palm. Surrounding the flame were two stalks of heavy-grained malt, symbolizing food sources and the fertility of the land.
The outermost rim of the coin bore ancient text engraved in a flowing, graceful, yet powerful calligraphic style: "While breathing, there is hope!"
As he ran his finger over this side, Chu Yuan felt the smoothness and rounded texture of the malt grains—a strangely warm and reassuring feeling.
Flipping it over, the atmosphere seemed to suddenly turn cold. The central image was a horizontal hourglass—a symbol of time forcibly stopped, of life reaching its end.
To emphasize death, the hourglass was surrounded by images of gaunt skeletal hands reaching out from the darkness, seemingly trying to grasp the last grains of sand. At the very bottom, where the sand leaked out, they seemed to transform into floating dust particles vanishing into the void.
The ancient proverb on this side was engraved in square, sharp, and rugged strokes: "Dust to dust!"
"I see. Isn't this one side representing life and the other representing death?"
Chu Yuan indicated that he understood the meaning of this coin. At the same time, he seemed to vaguely see the coin emitting a faint golden light. Yes, he hadn't misseen it—it was self-illuminating, not a reflection.
After admiring the gold coin for a while, Chu Yuan tucked it into his zippered pants pocket and then began the task of transporting the chest back to his dwelling.
