Duan Rong slept until the afternoon before waking up.
He turned over and got out of bed, feeling a dryness in his throat. Duan Rong rubbed his eyes and sighed, "I've been a bit heated lately."
He walked slowly to the entrance of the cave, squatted among several pieces of deer meat drying there, and picked a large rib with bone.
Duan Rong grabbed the rib with one hand and leaped along the cliff wall to the creekside.
He first gathered some dry branches, lit them with a flint, and placed the rib on the fire to smoke and roast. Then he walked over to the creek, washed his face, and drank several handfuls of clear water.
Duan Rong wiped the water stains from his mouth with his sleeve. He looked up, and at this time, there was no wind in the valley, adding to the tranquility.
The faint chirping of birds and the babbling of the stream came through clearly, accentuating the silence of the forest.
Suddenly, Duan Rong drew his saber and stood on a large rock beside the creek!
