Day twenty-seven, 5:30 a.m.
The horizon was still a deep, inky blue, with only the eastern horizon painted by a faint grayish-blue light.
Inside the shelter, Lin Yu'an had already finished breakfast. Today's energy boost came from a few smoked cod fillets and a steaming hot mussel broth.
He carefully checked the equipment he was about to set out with. A bundle of approximately four kilograms of mixed charcoal, tied with nylon rope, was his only source of warmth on this journey. In his backpack were boiled mussel meat and fish jerky wrapped in birch bark, with his sleeping bag securely fastened to the bottom of the pack.
Stepping out of the shelter, he secured all his tools on a makeshift sled made from driftwood and a fishing net's main rope. With the other hand holding the sled's rope, he stepped into the deepest silence and cold before dawn.
When reaching the first fishing spot, the sun had just edged over the horizon, tinting the snow on the ice with a pale golden hue.
