The book, not particularly thick, was bordered with brass all around, the cover delicately embossed with intricate floral patterns, and an elegant font printed in the center read "The Holy Bible," with a ruby-encrusted cross piercing the text, further increasing the book's value.
"Bible?"
"Could this be Robinson's room?"
Weighing the heavy book in his hands, Chen Zhou's mind recalled the original descriptions.
When Robinson transported supplies from the sailboat to shore, he also brought a batch of goods stored in his luggage to the island, which included three Bibles, several Catholic prayer books, and a few popular novels to pass the time.
At that time, Robinson had yet to establish his faith in God, but during the long, subsequent life on the solitary island, he ultimately entrusted his mind and soul to the Bible to relieve boredom and find a spiritual anchor.
Unfortunately, Chen Zhou's mindset was entirely different from Robinson's. Not only was he a staunch atheist, but he also knew clearly how he came to this isolated island.
More crucially, Chen Zhou did not long for passing ships to rescue him; as long as he endured the challenge's duration, he naturally could return to modern society with rewards.
Therefore, in his view, aside from the three Bibles deemed valuable, the remaining twelve books were essentially worthless junk, merely serving as scrap paper for drawing or note-taking, too rough even for toilet use.
Putting the book back into the box, Chen Zhou scraped off the wax at the box's seal and opened the box.
As expected, the box contained dry tobacco leaves.
Because they hadn't been soaked in seawater, they emitted a mild, sweet aroma, suggesting they were the same type Robinson carried with him—a private collection cherished by the adventurer.
Chen Zhou didn't smoke, but he had heard from the elders that tobacco leaves could refresh and soothe pain, and folk remedies even claimed they could treat malaria and flu. Hence, he didn't dump out the tobacco leaves and carefully stored the box.
In the second wooden box were neatly stacked undergarments, some made of silk, smooth and delicate to the touch, while others were cotton, all in plain white tones.
These undergarments were well-crafted, with fine stitching and hardly any loose threads. However, due to being stored for too long without daylight, some were damp and moldy, but overall still relatively clean.
Having deteriorated to the point of being stark naked, finding urgent clothing, Chen Zhou couldn't afford to be picky. Without choosing much, he casually picked the loosest shorts and vest to wear, finally escaping his naked state.
Undergarments were evidently important supplies, and Chen Zhou cherished them, placing them together with the first box, reminding himself to compile an inventory once he found paper and pen, making sure not to forget these items before opening the third box.
The third box also stored clothes, mostly outerwear, including coats with fox fur collars, short cloaks, shirts, trousers, felt hats, and other garments.
As Chen Zhou sorted through the clothes, he noticed two familiar belts at the bottom of the box, both embossed with patterns and end buckles made of brass and silver, seeming to originate from the same workshop as the one Robinson wore around his waist.
These various styles of outerwear were of good quality, but with the island in the transition from the rainy season to the dry season, the weather was extremely hot, and outerwear was unnecessary when it wasn't raining.
Moreover, Robinson's body size did not fit Chen Zhou's. Wearing oversized undergarments was fine, but forcing on those fitted shirts and pants would only restrict movement, not worth the effort.
Stuffing the clothes back into the box, Chen Zhou opened the clasp of the last box.
Now everything was ready except for a pair of shoes that fit, so he could head to the bow's hold to salvage the soaked seeds and other cargo.
However, disappointingly, the box did not contain shoes but rather some candied fruits in glass jars.
Like modern British people, Robinson, this 17th-century British ancestor, especially loved sweets, not only carrying them personally but also consuming most of the candied fruits stored in the box, leaving only two unopened glass jars filled with orange-colored candied apricots and kumquats.
Seeing these candied fruits, Chen Zhou's painful dining memories were instantly stirred, the fishy, salty, bitter taste seemingly resurfacing in his mouth, forcing him to frown, slightly nauseated.
Unexpectedly, among four suitcases, there wasn't a single pair of shoes.
Closing the box lid, Chen Zhou defiantly sifted through a discarded fishing net nearby, still to no avail.
This was clearly illogical; Robinson crossed the ocean with so many changes of clothing, how could he have only worn one pair of shoes? Surely something was missed.
Standing up, Chen Zhou began at the door, methodically searching the room clockwise from top to bottom, and finally fortune favored the persistent, he found two pairs of leather shoes tied together with thin rope under the bed.
In the dim light, the two pairs of shoes appeared especially worn; Chen Zhou placed them beside his feet for comparison, finding they were roughly size 40, nearly three sizes smaller than his usual shoes.
No choice, Chen Zhou had to untie the thin rope, flatten the shoe backs, and wear the leather shoes like slippers, dragging his feet to walk.
Though the shoes weren't ideal, at least they had thick soles, capable of protecting his vulnerable feet from harm, and providing Chen Zhou with the courage for the upcoming exploration.
Leaving Robinson's room, Chen Zhou initially planned to head to the bow, but the feeling of his heels hanging could not provide sufficient security, and seeing several closed doors in the corridor, he changed his mind.
Since the bow hold had already flooded, the conditions would undoubtedly be quite harsh, with those shattered planks, soaked sacks, and barrels merging with the seawater, all turning into hidden traps.
Venturing into the filthy water with these "slippers" on a whim was obviously unwise; there was no need to undertake unnecessary risks.
Moreover, the stored grains at the bow were not the only source of seeds, as there was another bag of poultry feed in the hold, with some barley and rice seeds remaining, which would produce crops if properly stored.
For now, continuing to search the senior sailors' rooms seemed more reliable, at least to find a pair of suitable shoes; otherwise, he'd rather not set foot in the bow hold.
Thinking this, Chen Zhou quietly altered his plan, prioritizing the integration of important supplies, understanding the ship's structure, drafting diagrams, and collecting tools.
These four tasks could be worked on simultaneously: collecting tools, integrating supplies, understanding the ship's structure.
Moreover, to prevent omissions, Chen Zhou needs to quickly find paper, pen, and ink to accurately record ships' food, materials, tools, gunpowder, and various resources' quantities and locations, listing a detailed inventory for convenient use, transport, and storage.
Good memory is not as good as a bad pen, a habit he developed over his student years.
Standing in the corridor, after organizing the concrete work flow in his mind, Chen Zhou turned back to Robinson's room.
He first emptied the four wooden boxes, placing the inner and outer garments and a heap of jars on the bed, then picked out two books with clean pages, minimal text, and abundant illustrations to serve as notebooks, before leaving the room and pushing open the door to the room opposite.
This room seemed much more spacious than Robinson's, with two square windows on the gunwale, a tall cabinet against the wall, with several short saws of varying sizes and some tools of unclear use fastened to it, including several particularly large needles and a pointed taper with a blood groove.
Approaching for a closer look, Chen Zhou found stains resembling blood on the surface of these tools, leading him to judge that this room likely belonged to the ship's doctor.
Subsequent discoveries confirmed his suspicion.
For instance, the drawers beneath the cabinet contained various medicine bottles and jars, each labeled with scribbled writing, some indicating emetics, others treatments for the Black Death, others listed as dysentery remedies, and some as hemostatic agents—approximately twenty types in total.
Chen Zhou knew these were medications but did not trust the medical standards of this era, so he dared not meddle with these drugs of unclear composition and lowered the priority of transporting them to the minimum.
Additionally, he also found a book on human anatomy in the cabinet, with vividly realistic illustrations of muscles and bones, complementing the room's dreary tone, making one feel an eerie chill.