Collecting palm leaves for bedding, scouting resource extraction points, and planning future explorations—Zhurong spent the entire day busy from morning until afternoon. Throughout it all, Violet followed him, even imitating his every move. It felt quite a bit like a scene from *Robinson Crusoe*.
"Is this... a volcanic hot spring?"
Staring at the steaming little pool before him, Zhurong fell into deep thought. It seemed this really was a volcanic island. Still, there was no need to worry; since Violet had left the volcano alive, it shouldn't erupt anytime soon... probably.
"Perfect, time for a bath. Being covered in sweat and salt is unbearable."
He stripped off his clothes and jumped straight into the pool. His gun lay right beside him; if any beast dared to attack, a couple of shots would dispatch it, and he’d even get a bonus meal out of it.
"The island is mostly scouted. No signs of large predators, few animals, mostly fruit trees. I’ll need to think carefully about future protein sources..."
Violet, who had been shadowing him, followed suit, stripping down completely and jumping into the pool with a splash.
*Splosh!*
Water sprayed everywhere. As Violet entered the water, an oily sheen appeared on the surface, but thanks to the natural spring flow, the grime was quickly washed away.
"Come here, Violet."
Zhurong gestured for her to approach. Violet obediently swam and crawled her way over, looking exactly like a puppy tossed into the water. Zhurong placed her in front of him and began patiently scrubbing her down. He had expected layers of dirt, but there was almost nothing to scrub off. Most of the stains on her seemed to come from the small animals she’d been forced to hunt or various environmental debris.
He didn't hold back, scrubbing hard, but she didn't seem fragile. After all, this was a girl who could kill a platoon of WWI soldiers with her bare hands. As for whether she might kick him if he caused her pain, he wasn't worried. In the original story, Violet possessed the ability to discern malice; as long as he harbored none, she wouldn't resist, even if he stuffed her into a burlap sack.
Though there wasn't much "dirt," the sheer variety of grime on her was absurd. Just washing her hair took over twenty minutes. The entire bathing process took a staggering two hours! Though half an hour was spent using his Swiss Army knife to unlock her collar, the other ninety minutes proved just how filthy she had been.
While scrubbing, Zhurong felt as if he were raising a giant golden retriever. Her reactions were truly cat-like.
After the bath, Zhurong let her wear the white undershirt of his suit while he kept the jacket on. As for his trousers... well, he only had the outer pants and his underwear left. Fortunately, Zhurong was in good shape, so he still had the energy to wash her pile of fur clothing afterward. He propped her clothes up near the cave entrance with some sticks.
"There, now just wait for them to dry."
"Grrr..."
Standing beside him, Violet’s stomach let out a low rumble.
"Hungry? Have some crackers."
Zhurong took out the compressed rations, broke off a strip, and handed it to her. He took one for himself and popped it into his mouth.
"Mmm, chocolate flavor. Not bad."
"Mm-mm-mm!" Violet imitated his sound, her eyes locked onto him, almost glowing.
"Want more?"
"Mm-mm!" She stared intensely at the crackers in his hand.
"Three more, that's it. One of these is 200 calories."
Violet devoured the three crackers like a whirlwind and continued to stare at him.
"Mm!"
Zhurong rubbed his face in resignation. "Looks like it's time I taught you how to speak..."
Having served as an English teaching assistant during college and mastered conversational Japanese in three months, teaching a language was a piece of cake for Zhurong. Besides, he was teaching Chinese—the only language in the world where you can scramble the word order and still convey the message. As for other languages... scramble the spelling, and the meaning is lost. Grammar, tenses, person, pluralization, prepositions—to hell with them! If you can make yourself understood, isn't that enough?
So, his goal was to teach Violet Chinese. He would start with basic literacy and comprehension, then gradually transition to complex parts. If necessary, he could even teach her Traditional characters and Classical Chinese. Language ability is a gift, and Zhurong didn't know how talented Violet was; how long it would take was anyone's guess. But if he didn't start, there would be no results.
"Starting tonight, you’re going to learn how to talk!" Zhurong placed his hand on Violet's head and flashed a "benevolent" smile.
Violet tilted her head, expressionless.
...
Two weeks later...
"Finally, a decent window shutter!"
After some trial and error, Zhurong had used a slot-and-groove structure to build two window shutters. Now he wouldn't have to endure the wind at night. It would also effectively keep out snakes and insects... though the ants were probably unstoppable. A few days ago, he had woken up to find Violet clutching a snake; it had truly terrified him. If he’d been alone, he probably would have been a goner that night.
"Win-dow?" Violet leaned in, curious.
"It's an opening in the house, other than the door."
"Is... door?" Violet looked even more confused.
"Not quite, but close enough."
"Oh." She nodded.
"I go fishing. You, process wood, okay?" Zhurong gestured as he spoke.
"Okay!"
That afternoon, they worked together to add a table, two chairs, and a wooden bed frame to the hut. Laying palm leaves over the bed was infinitely better than sleeping on the ground.
"Tonight, we eat crab!" Violet was practically drooling. Zhurong held a plate of crabs, drooling right along with her.
"Right, let's eat!"
"Yay!"
She hadn't learned much else, but she’d picked up the word "yay" very quickly.
...
The 73rd day on the deserted island, 4:00 AM.
Zhurong woke up a bit early—mostly because Violet, likely sleep-drunken, had kicked him. It hit his thigh; another inch and it would have been… well. Watching Violet sprawled out, draped completely over him, Zhurong could only lie still and ponder. A living heater plus two layers of clothing—Zhurong felt nothing but heat. Still, it was within tolerable limits. Every time they slept, Zhurong would use Violet as a body pillow, and in turn, she would use him as a mattress.
As for living together as a man and a woman on a deserted island? Forget it. With an age gap of over ten years, Zhurong viewed Violet entirely as a daughter. She certainly felt like one, too.
*BOOM!*
A massive explosion roared across the sky.
Violet sprang up in a flash, and Zhurong rolled off the bed, grabbing his FMG-9.
"Gun!" Violet shouted, rushing to the door.
Zhurong tossed her the stone spear hanging on the wall and followed her out. Outside, they saw a towering blaze in the northeast. The source of the light seemed to be out at sea, not on the island.
"Let’s go!"
They raced through the forest to the beach. The scene before them stunned even Zhurong, a man who had seen his fair share of crises.
A battleship was engulfed in flames, its bow grounded on the sand. The stern turret had snapped off; the explosion they’d heard must have been the magazine detonating. A few sailors on the bow were trying to scramble down the anchor chain.
Just as the pair prepared to head toward the ship, the bow suffered another massive secondary explosion. The shockwave even knocked Zhurong off his feet hundreds of meters away. A steel plate, propelled by the blast, flew straight toward the prone Zhurong, nearly cutting him in two. In a split second, Violet kicked the plate from the side, deflecting it into the sand right beside him.
"Holy... crap!"
Violet’s quick reflexes saved his life; otherwise, he would have been buried with the ship tonight. After calming his nerves, Zhurong stood up and surveyed the battleship.
"There... can't be many survivors left on that thing."
The fire burned until noon. Zhurong waited, hoping to see a survivor crawl out, but no one appeared. In the afternoon, it started to rain, and he reluctantly took Violet back to their hut.
"I didn't expect this to happen so suddenly, but something feels off. In the original, survivors from a shipwreck were supposed to find Violet, leading to a conflict that exposed her abilities. But there isn't a soul alive on this ship..."
The rain fell for a long time, only stopping the next morning. At dawn, Zhurong decided to board the ship to investigate, leaving Violet to guard the hut in case any survivors showed up to scavenge.
...
After two secondary explosions and a half-day of fire, half the ship was charred black. Still, as someone with a background in military engineering, Zhurong could identify the various sections. The bow was half-obliterated; turrets one and two were gone, turret four was missing from the stern, and the aft section was entirely lost. The relatively intact parts were the forward bridge, the funnels, and the rear bridge with turret three.
Below the waterline on the port side of the engine room, he could see massive, inward-curving holes. It looked like the ship had been torpedoed, lost control, and run aground. This suggested the attack happened nearby; the enemy vessel might still be in these waters.
Zhurong reached the broken bow and climbed inside. He tightened his grip on the FMG-9, silently switching the safety to full-auto. As he moved through the ship, he found the galley. It was stocked with plenty of kitchenware—pots, pans, and bowls—exactly what he needed. He filled an empty sack with pots, knives, and iron rods, then continued toward the upper decks.
"Better check the bridge first. Hopefully, there’s some useful intel."
On his way to the bridge, he passed the light arms locker. It was filled with bolt-action rifles and plenty of matching ammunition. Thinking it would be good for Violet to practice with, he grabbed two rifles and a few handfuls of cartridges.
After climbing a few more levels, he finally reached the iron door of the bridge. It was locked, so he forced it open. The bridge was in shambles. The captain lay on the floor in front of the glass, apparently having committed suicide with his own pistol.
The walls were covered in strategic maps, one of which marked the location of the ambush.
"Wait, German? And these are Arabic numerals?"
*2:58*. That was the time the ship was attacked. *3:05* was the first distress signal, followed by others at 3:20, 3:40, and 3:55, then nothing. Each signal contained the ship's approximate location. Zhurong noticed this island wasn't marked on the charts, which might have been why the battleship ran aground.
"Could the distress signal be what lured the people who eventually took Violet away?"
The attack had been a surprise; it looked like a submarine ambush. That matched the damage on the ship’s hull. You had to hand it to those WWI battleships—they were built like tanks. Taking multiple torpedoes, a jammed rudder, and a burning engine room, yet still managing to sail for twenty nautical miles? Absolutely absurd.
"When the distress signal went out, the nearest ship, code-named KMS-U-22, responded that it would come to the rescue. Could it be this one?"
"But that doesn't make sense. The two ships were only 220 nautical miles apart; it should have arrived ages ago... Did it get sunk, too?"
"Wait, U-22? Is that a submarine?"
"Better head back. I'll get Violet to help carry the rest of this stuff."