When they heard the faint “quack, quack” of wild ducks from the bushes, Sophia couldn’t help but ask excitedly, “Is this where you got the wild ducks last time, Jackson?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jackson nodded.

“There should be wild duck eggs around here, it’s the season when they’re laying them,” Sophia said, pushing through the tall wild grass that was even taller than herself as she walked towards the direction of the duck calls, hoping to find some eggs.

But before she could get close, the ducks, hidden in the grass, sensed the movement and immediately flapped their wings, flying away.

Sophia rubbed her nose awkwardly. “Ah, the wild ducks are gone.”

Jackson, who had brought her out here just to relax, shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine. You rest here, I’ll go look.”

Though Jackson didn’t say much, Sophia still felt a bit embarrassed. If she hadn’t been so reckless just now, Jackson might have been able to shoot one or two ducks. Now they were all gone.

Not wanting Sophia to go deeper into the grass, Jackson gently urged her to stay back while he stepped into the bush. After a careful search, he indeed found several nests made of dry grass and down feathers, with a few grey-green duck eggs in each.

“There’s quite a few,” Jackson said, picking up a few eggs and heading back to show Sophia.

His original plan had just been to take his honey out for a walk without any baskets, so now, with the wild duck eggs in hand, Sophia raised an eyebrow and asked, “How are we going to carry them back?”

With just the two of them, and only four hands, they could barely carry a dozen or so eggs, but there were so many left behind. For someone as frugal as Sophia, it was a real shame.

Jackson was about to suggest taking a spare basket from his Space, passing it off as something he found on the ground, when Sophia suddenly stood on tiptoe, scanning the area near the lake. Spotting some thorn bushes around, she quickly handed their daughter to Jackson. “Hold the baby, I’ve got an idea.”

Jackson placed the eggs on the ground and took their daughter. He watched as Sophia pulled a small knife from her bag and hurried to the thorn bushes to cut some branches.

Jackson watched for a while, understanding what she was doing. He put their daughter in a tree fork, then pulled out his own knife to help her.

“Honey, I can do it myself. Your hands are too delicate; you might cut yourself. Just wait with the baby,” she insisted.

Sophia’s hands were soft and clean, and the thorn bushes were full of sharp twigs. For someone who wasn’t used to such work, it was easy to get hurt.

Jackson worked quickly, and before long, he had gathered a pile of thorn branches. He found a relatively flat spot, stripped the leaves from them, and then Sophia began laying a few branches down on the ground to start weaving.

Jackson could only stand by and watch, not being much help.

Before long, Sophia had woven the bottom of a basket. She seemed to remember something, looked up at the sky, and asked, “Are you hungry?”

Jackson shook his head. “No, not really.”

Sophia rubbed her stomach, a little embarrassed, and admitted, “But I’m a bit hungry.”

Jackson quickly said, “I’ll go hunt. I’ll get you a bird to roast.”

“No need,” Sophia waved him off, pulling two loaves of bread from her bag. “I brought bread. Just heat it up, we can eat right away. You eat some too.”

Jackson glanced at her bag and slowly nodded.

Sophia smiled brightly, bending down by the lake to start a small fire. Once the fire was going, she placed the bread over the flames to heat up. After asking Jackson to keep an eye on the fire, she quickly went back to weaving the basket.

She didn’t stop for a second.

Her hands moved quickly. Just as the smell of toasted bread started wafting up, the basket was already finished.

She proudly walked over to Jackson, holding it up. “What do you think? Looks good, doesn’t it?”

“It’s perfect, honey. You’re so skilled,” Jackson said, looking at the newly woven basket before taking the bread off the fire and handing it to her. “Eat.”

Sophia put the basket down and washed her hands in the lake. The two sat together by a dead tree at the lake’s edge, eating the warm bread under the gentle mountain breeze and the autumn sun.

After finishing his bread, Jackson stood up, grabbed the basket, and went back into the grass to collect more wild duck eggs.

The mountains here were rarely visited by people, and the ducks had few natural predators, so they had plenty of chances to breed.

There were a lot of wild duck eggs in the grass. By the time Sophia finished eating, Jackson had already gathered a full basket of eggs.

If he had more time, he could probably collect two or three more baskets.

Sophia, however, was content with the basket she had. “This is enough.”

“Alright, you stay here for a bit. I’ll head deeper in and see if I can catch something else,” Jackson said before heading further into the woods.

Sophia, sitting on the grass with their baby in her arms, watched as Jackson popped in and out of the bushes. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy every time he crawled on the ground. The tall grass made her wonder—what if there were snakes? What if he got bitten?

The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. The waiting felt longer than ever.

She called out to him, her voice full of worry. “Hurry up, I don’t want quail anymore!”

But Jackson, being so far away, couldn’t hear her. He pressed on, deeper into the trees.

Seeing him out of sight only made Sophia feel more restless. Hugging their child, she bent down to pick up Jackson’s shirt from the ground, gripping it tightly as she stared anxiously up the mountain.

Jackson, having only brought a slingshot for hunting instead of his rifle, had carefully crafted it himself. The frame was made from steel rods he had heated and bent, and the sling was made from top-quality leather. It was heavy and solid in his hands.

His eyes were sharp as a hawk as he scanned the skies, searching for his target.

Finally, as the last rays of the setting sun lit up the sky, a large goose appeared, flapping its wings, seemingly eager to return to its nest.

“You’re mine,” Jackson thought to himself.

He took a deep breath, steadying his focus, and slowly raised the slingshot.

The slingshot had limited range, and the goose was flying high, but Jackson had a plan.

With a sharp “whizz,” he released the first stone, followed by a second. The third stone collided with the first two, creating a sharp whistling sound as they pursued the goose.

In a moment, the first stone, propelled by the other two, struck the goose’s wing with perfect accuracy.

“Caw!” The goose’s body jerked, losing balance, and it began to spiral down before finally crashing to the ground.

Jackson felt a rush of pride and excitement as he tightly gripped the slingshot, watching the goose fall.

When he finally walked down with the goose in hand, he saw Sophia hurrying up the mountain, holding their child.

Seeing her coming up, worried and frantic, his heart jumped into his throat. The path was slippery, and he quickly called out to her.

“Don’t go up there, it’s dangerous!”

Sophia froze in her tracks, her voice trembling as she called back to him. “Come down! I don’t want quail anymore, I won’t eat it. Just hurry down!”

By the end of her sentence, her eyes had already started to tear up.

She had been watching the mountain for so long, waiting for him to return, and she was terrified. What if something happened to him up there? She couldn’t even bear to think about it.

Jackson noticed the distress in her voice and immediately stopped hunting, responding quickly. “Okay, okay, I’m coming down right now. Just stay there, don’t move.”

He hurried down the mountain, holding the goose in his hand.

When he reached her, he handed her the goose and looked into her red eyes, asking softly, “What’s wrong? Are you cold? Let’s go home.”

Without saying a word, Sophia turned and started walking ahead, holding their child, her anxious heart not yet at ease.