Then he jogged back to Robinson's side, intending to continue his work while it was not yet completely dark.
Removing his outer clothes, one could see Robinson's waist tied with an exquisite leather belt, the surface imprinted with complex geometric patterns, and a buckle made of brass and silver.
As a plantation owner in Brazil and one of the major shareholders of the merchant ship, Robinson's belt indeed reflected his status.
"Truly an early capitalist, just the cost of this belt alone could cover half a month's salary for me."
With this thought, Chen Zhou swiftly unfastened the buckle, took the belt for himself.
Then, he felt a small wooden box shaped like a strip from Robinson's shorts pocket.
The sealing of the box was not very good, letting in a lot of seawater, soaking some shredded tobacco inside, emitting a pungent, bitter, fishy smell.
Chen Zhou had never smoked; he poured out the tobacco from the wooden box, wiped it with some rags, tucked it into his own pocket, and then began to strip Robinson's trousers.
Before it was completely dark, Robinson had become as clean as when he first came into this world, lying naked on the beach.
After carefully keeping the linen shorts, underwear, and socks, Chen Zhou tirelessly pushed Robinson's body into the sea.
"For a sailor full of adventurous spirit, being buried at sea might be the best final resting place..."
"However, sending you off also means my lonely journey has officially begun."
Chen Zhou looked up at the sky, the droplets blown by the wind were getting denser. The lightning that roared a few hours ago was now becoming sparse, making it hard for him to judge whether the rain would truly arrive.
Trying hard to recall the descriptions in the book, Chen Zhou could only remember that there were no ferocious carnivorous beasts on this deserted island; he had no impression of whether it rained on the day Robinson landed.
"Hopefully, it won't rain," Chen Zhou prayed.
No one wants to sleep in the rain.
Even though the warm climate here reduces the risk of catching a cold, a damp body surface can still create a breeding ground for pathogens.
Without medication, even a cold and fever can potentially claim a life.
Sitting under a small tree with bundled clothes, leaning against the trunk, Chen Zhou looked out into the pitch-black sea, without the slightest bit of drowsiness.
With no noisy machine sounds or mobile phones, the passing of time was frighteningly clear, like the slowly dripping liquid from a hanging bottle, intensifying the torment of waiting.
With nothing to do for a long time, his mind was particularly unsettled.
Thoughts that had been resolved lay dormant again, and some new worries and feelings started to surface.
"Tomorrow is the day the merchant ship runs aground, with my mediocre swimming skills, I don't know if I can make it to the ship safely, what if I drown..."
"I remember the shipbuilding diagrams from the forum guy clearly, but I don't know if this guy's diagrams are reliable..."
"Even if they're reliable, I might not be able to build them..."
"Now that I think about it, pushing Robinson into the sea was really the right decision, or if I dared not board the ship and starved, I might have used him as emergency rations."
"Even if I didn't eat him, his rotting would have been a plague hazard..."
"Sigh, I don't even know if it will rain tonight, should've looked more at the part about Robinson's day of landing on the island."
"Feels like a dream, such a dark sky."
......
The dampness of the soil and the astringent smell of leaves were shattered by the sea breeze, with the lasting sound of the waves, the last ray of light in the world disappeared.
The fatigue from shock and labor gradually poured out from the chaotic thoughts, drowning Chen Zhou with the sound of bird songs and tides.
His thoughts slowed, his eyelids grew heavier, finally falling down to meet the lower lids in a tight embrace; before long, his nose and mouth sang a symphony of snores, incongruent with the lonely island.