Let's talk about the conclusion first: Lin Qingyue traveled through time. There is no portable space, no system tasks, only a nest of villagers waiting for food behind them and desolation everywhere. The good news is that as a former veteran outdoor survival blogger, she knows which tree bark can be ground into powder and which weeds can stop bleeding. The bad news is that they are all on the run now. Except for the broken wooden sticks in their hands, their pockets are cleaner than their faces. Lin Qingyue looked at the group of villagers with sallow faces and desperate eyes, and sighed: "Stop crying, follow me up the mountain. That thing that looks like weeds is actually a life-saving wild yam." The villagers looked suspicious: "Qingyue, that thing looks like firewood, is it really edible?" Three days later, the whole village held the soft, glutinous and sweet yams and gnawed them with tears in their eyes: "It smells so good! Qingyue is the living Bodhisattva of our village!" In this world without golden fingers, Lin Qingyue led everyone to take root in the deep mountains and old forests with a hoe and a brain. No food? She led the young men to dig traps and catch mountain birds, and taught the women to identify wild vegetables and dry dried goods. No place to stay? She directed everyone to lay mud bricks and built rows of neat adobe houses on the barren hills. No land to plant? She led the whole village to open up wasteland, divert water into the fields, and turned the rocky beach into a cornucopia. The village next door is still fighting over half a piece of cake, but Lin Qingyue's village has already begun to discuss whether to make shepherd's purse dumplings or eat wild boar hot pot this winter solstice. Lin Qingyue: Actually, I just wanted to eat enough for myself at first, but who knew that I accidentally turned this barren mountain into a paradise.
