Chapter 165: 162 What Are We Really Protecting? (Seeking Monthly Votes)
[So cute.]
[I’ve just had dinner over here, Master Fang must be having lunch, right?]
Bi Fang looked up at the sky and discovered the sun was already halfway up, indicating it was around eleven or twelve at noon.
“Hungry?”
Etienne nodded, then shook his head.
Seeing this, Bi Fang laughed, “If you’re hungry, just say so. It’s perfectly normal to be hungry after half a day; don’t hide it, that’s not good.”
“Many times, situations become bad because of the neglect of certain signs. You might not be aware, but I am, so tell me if anything is wrong, and don’t try to hide it.”
Etienne felt embarrassed, stretched out his index finger and thumb, and gestured a small gap: “Just a little hungry.”
They had set off in a hurry and brought nothing with them, and without having breakfast early in the morning, anyone would be hungry after so long.
Geese could find grass to eat and didn’t need to worry, but humans couldn’t do the same.
A month was a formidable challenge for anyone.
Bi Fang stood up to check his clothes; several thick coats were still wet, but the quick-drying lining was wearable. After putting it on, he went to a nearby rock.
This rock was covered with blue, ear fungus-like things that looked somewhat disgusting, but Bi Fang started scraping them off with a knife.
[What is Old Fang doing, eating that stuff?]
[Master Fang, you might want to turn back and look at the plump and juicy White-fronted Goose (funny)]
[Gosh, you dare to eat that too?]
[This is called emergency avoidance, and besides, this is abroad, it’s not illegal. I eat one a day.]
[The person above is so savage, I’m afraid you won’t make it to France at this rate?]
[Not all wings should be braised; they can also be fried or steamed.]
Bi Fang was also amused by the silly comments from his online friends: “That’s emergency food, emergency food, understand? I won’t eat them unless I absolutely have to, got it?”
[Oh my, do you really plan on doing that?]
[Carrying eighteen White-fronted Goose bones from Lapland to France.]
“Enough with the jokes, look at this lichen on the rock, it’s a great source of food,” said Bi Fang while he continued scraping the lichen.
“Not just lichen, the bark and tender shoots of the spruce, pine, and polar willow are also edible, but they must be boiled or roasted to be eaten.”
“Lichen, many people are used to calling it ‘rock tripe’, and in some places, it’s also called ‘Fairy Vegetable’, which is formed by algae and free-living fungi. It’s very high in amino acids, minerals, and calcium, and the protein content is even higher than that of eggs, so don’t look down on it.”
After scraping most of the lichen from the rock, Bi Fang went to the lakeside to clean it briefly, then skewered the lichen on sticks like slices of meat to roast it.
“The lichen must be roasted soft to kill off the many bacteria that can be present because of the surrounding moisture.”
Within a few minutes, the previously firm lichen softened rapidly under the high heat. Bi Fang handed a skewer over to Etienne.
“You can try it. There are no seasonings, but it should taste fine.”
Etienne took it doubtfully, looking at the somewhat blackened lichen after roasting and unsure how to eat it. As a Frenchman, he was very skeptical whether this thing was edible.
As Etienne questioned his life choices, Bi Fang had already started praising the taste of the lichen.
“It’s somewhat like a mix of egg and wood ear mushroom, very crunchy, the texture is nice. It’d be better with salt, but unfortunately, we don’t have any. Going a month without salt is not good, but I’ll find a way to make some in a few days.”
[Is it really that good?]
[It is very good; we eat it often here. It’s very smooth, a bit like crispy jelly, but I can’t be sure since Old Fang has no seasonings.]
[I always feel Master Fang’s taste is otherworldly; what he says is delicious may not really be]
[Ah, let’s watch the young guy’s reaction.]
Is it really that delicious?
As Bi Fang heaped praise upon it, driven by hunger, Etienne carefully tried a piece, imitating Bi Fang.
“Ugh!”
Etienne covered his mouth, his complexion turning bitter; the strong taste of earth and mustiness exploded in his mouth, and the lichen, both slippery and sticky, made him feel as if he had just eaten a wad of mucus, revolting to the point of being difficult to swallow.
Was this really fit for human consumption?
[Hahaha, I just knew it, nothing tastes good without seasoning!]
[Master Fang’s Wonderful Taste Buds]
[That’s a normal reaction for sure]
Etienne kept gagging, but even so, he never spat out the lichen from his mouth.
Having watched Bi Fang’s survival videos, Etienne knew that food resources in the wilderness were extremely precious and should never be wasted; if Bi Fang said it was edible, then it definitely was.
So Etienne, fighting back the nausea, swallowed the lichen in one go.
Bi Fang quietly dealt with his lunch, as if he hadn’t seen what happened.
If Etienne had spit it out just now, the mission would have been terminated.
Etienne persevered.
Meanwhile, the goose continued to graze, completely unaware that it had just had a close shave with death.
To bring or not to bring Etienne, Bi Fang had also been in a dilemma initially.
The protection he offered was actually different from Etienne’s, it could even be said to be two different things.
Bi Fang’s protection was only for biodiversity, for a future possibility, not for these specific eighteen geese.
This was a common misunderstanding most people had; Bi Fang in his past life had encountered it, unable to understand the acts of animal conservationists who sacrificed their lives for the cause.
People generally thought animal conservationists were the reckless types who would charge into farmers’ homes to smash things up, which was entirely wrong.
On one hand, it stemmed from a lack of understanding about biological conservation; on the other hand, present-day conservationists had done many puzzling things, genuinely baffling people.
True animal conservation was never just about protecting animals in a singular manner; it was about maintaining a dynamic balance in nature, trying to sustain order with human intervention amidst the destruction humans inflicted on nature.
It sounds ironic, but that’s exactly how it is.
Because the future of humans might just depend on this irony.
The case of Artemisia annua is a prime example. If it went extinct decades ago, would artemisinin still exist?
Would there be any hope for the many people suffering from malaria?
The richer the biodiversity of an ecosystem, the greater its creativity; the extinction of every single species signals the impending death for many others.
Protecting the biological chain is vital for maintaining ecological balance.
True conservationists have never been about protecting just animals.
It’s about protecting humans themselves.
The magnitude of this responsibility can be large or small; it really depends on the weight it carries in people’s hearts. Many who sacrifice do so because they place a heavy weight on this duty.
But Etienne was different; he didn’t protect ecology or nature, but simply the ‘companions’ that had lived with him for six months, growing from eighteen eggs into eighteen geese.
To Etienne, these geese were like the cats or dogs that grew up alongside you.
As a child living in an old house, white bed sheets hung in the corridor, drying, the wind rustling the glossy green leaves, whispering amidst the afternoon sun beaming through a window at the end of the hallway, warmly spreading over your body.
Back then, you were just a small child, waiting for your parents to get off work, waiting for so long, so very long, until finally, there was the sound of keys unlocking the door from outside. You couldn’t wait to open the door, only to find, to your delight, that your parents had brought you a new playmate.
It was cute, fluffy, and spoke with a lisp.
For the next dozen years or so, it was there with you through tears and laughter, licking your face while you lay by its side after being scolded by your parents, even beginning to grow so old it struggled to walk. Then, one day, when you’re in your teens, animal control barges in, waving a net and stating that your pet doesn’t meet regulations and needs to be euthanized. Would you also sneakily release it, or perhaps even move to a different city to live with it?
From the eyes of fourteenth-year-old Etienne, Bi Fang saw that resolve.
Since they’d already taken flight, might as well fly to the very end.
He stood up, found a stick, and planted it firmly in the soil.
Many seasoned viewers recognized instantly what Bi Fang was about to do.
[Ah, Old Fang is going to determine the direction again!]
[I know this, it’s something about the AB line, right?]
[Isn’t there a quicker way? Why doesn’t Old Fang use it?]
“Because of the deviation in the flight path, I need to know the location of this lake on the map to decide if it’s viable to continue moving forward,”
Bi Fang traced along the shadow of the stick.
“This time I need to calculate the latitude and longitude.”