The Fortieth Day: My Little Courtyard (Part One) — An Extra Chapter for Long Xiao Nine Heavens!

“Whew.” After a busy morning, I finally had a chance to rest. Sitting on the swing, I sipped contentedly from a can of drink as the breeze swept over me, beads of sweat slipping down my face.

I had gone out early today, cutting some branches to make a fence around the little house. The combination of broken fishing nets, vines, and branches came together perfectly. From now on, this yard belonged entirely to me, and I was determined to turn it into the dream home I had always imagined...

Last night’s unexpected incident, when something burst into my upstairs bedroom, crept back into my memory.

It happened like this...

After a sudden “crack” sounded from above, I was startled, my heart clenching tight—not an exaggeration, for I was truly afraid in the face of the unknown! Worse yet, I had left my pistol under the bedding upstairs.

What if...

I didn’t dare follow that thought. Time seemed to freeze as I stood motionless, straining my ears to catch any sound from above.

Once drooping, Blackie’s ears now stood straight as he pushed half his body up with his forepaws. Clearly, he had heard the commotion, too! But now, aside from the crackling of branches in the fire, there was nothing.

Could it be a coconut crab? That possibility eased my nerves a little. Or was it the unidentified beast that had faced off with Blackie yesterday? “Damn it!” I cursed inwardly, trying to steady my chaotic thoughts.

“I have a knife—so what am I afraid of?” As I calmed, courage took hold. I didn’t wait any longer or let my imagination run wild. Grabbing the kitchen knife, I pushed open the downstairs door and charged out—Blackie right at my side, a silent understanding between us.

By the moonlight, I saw the upstairs door was indeed open! An intruder had clearly broken in.

As the saying goes, anger flares from the heart and courage is born of wrath. Seeing the damaged door, my fury erased all fear. I sprinted up the stairs, peering inside.

“Oh my god!” Yes, that was me shouting, stumbling backward in fright. Blackie, hard on my heels, nearly knocked me down the slope.

I had seen a huge snake! Yes, a huge snake! I was nearly scared out of my wits. In the ghastly moonlight, its blood-red tongue flickered as it coiled in the corner, its head swaying in my direction. I’d never been afraid of snakes before, but this one was enormous, and I had no idea if it was venomous. Frankly, it was a wonder I didn’t wet myself from the shock.

As I regained my senses, I suddenly realized Blackie was gone! Cold sweat broke out all over me.

Blackie... surely he hadn’t gone inside? Panicked, I rushed once more toward the bedroom.

A series of ferocious barks erupted from within. “No! Please, no!” I was frantic. Bursting into the room, I was somewhat relieved to see Blackie still kept his distance from the snake—he wasn’t stupid. I guessed he was trying to scare the snake away.

But it seemed to have the opposite effect. The snake, though rearing up and drawing back a little, was clearly preparing to strike—and I noticed.

Before I could react, the snake lunged! In a flash, it coiled around me, its speed almost supernatural. My movements, in comparison, were painfully slow.

Terror still frozen on my face, I barely managed to step back before the snake began winding around my thigh, squeezing tighter and slithering upward.

Blackie barked furiously, but the snake ignored him, focused solely on its hunt.

I didn’t stop struggling for a moment, hacking desperately with the kitchen knife. Perhaps it had grown dull from disuse, for even after several blows, it failed to pierce the snake’s skin.

Wracked with pain and thrashing about, the snake soon wrapped around my chest and I started to suffocate.

At last, it dragged me to the floor. Blackie stopped barking. Though I was close to losing consciousness, I saw a dark blur leap toward me—surely Blackie, realizing the danger I was in and fighting with all his might to save me.

When my ribs began to creak and despair gripped me, the snake suddenly loosened! Air flooded into my lungs, and I gasped in greedy relief.

After a few seconds, my mind cleared. I looked quickly at Blackie and the snake.

“Bastard!” I roared. Blackie had the snake’s head clamped in his jaws, his teeth sunk through its eye. The snake, in agony and unable to free itself, released me and tried to wrap around Blackie instead.

No way would I let that happen! Grabbing the knife, I threw myself at the snake and hacked at the back of its head with every ounce of strength I had.

I lost count of the blows, cutting like a madman, until the reek of blood and flesh filled my nostrils and I finally stopped...

The snake lay still, its head nearly severed, hanging by a strip of skin. Blackie sat nearby, tongue out, licking the blood and bits of flesh from his fur. When he saw me looking at him, he padded over, tail wagging, and nudged my hand.

“Thank you, Blackie,” I murmured, kissing the top of his head in heartfelt gratitude.

…

Now, the snake has been skinned, boned, and butchered by my hand. Its skin hangs in the yard.

Last time I was frying potatoes, I found some had sprouted and some were tinged green—those I set aside. I knew green or sprouted potatoes are poisonous and mustn’t be eaten.

So today, I decided to try planting them in the yard. Though I love eating potatoes, I’ve never grown them before, so this was just an experiment. Each potato had several sprouts, so I cut them into pieces accordingly.

Once more, the kitchen knife proved invaluable. I loosened a patch of earth beside the tree and planted the dozens of sprouting potato pieces.

I also took some seeds from the drift bottle and planted them beside the potatoes. If I could witness them thriving with my own eyes, I would be overjoyed.

The three garlic bulbs from the ship’s kitchen also went into the soil—I hadn’t had the heart to eat them yesterday...