Pet King

e compartment.
In TV and movies, there were often such scenes where the male or female lead looked at the mirror for a while, then pulled the mirror open to take out the mental medicine to eat … But most of the bathroom cabinets in China did not have such a compartment.

So he tried to look from the side and found a pair of hinges on one side.
He lifted it from the other side.

The hinge was a little rusty, and it didn’t open after pulling a few times.
He took out a Switzerland army knife and pried it open successfully.
There was a interlayer, and as he expected, there were some bottles and cans of medicine in the interlayer.

He unscrewed a random medicine bottle.
The pills in the bottle were still dry after so many years.
They had definitely expired, but he didn’t know how much of the effect was left.

The traffic here was extremely blocked.
The beekeepers and Wrangler lived in the forest for a long time and had little contact with the outside world.
They had to find their own ways to solve their daily headaches and fevers.
With their meager income, they might not be able to afford the sky-high medical expenses in the United States therefore, the variety of medicine in the mezzanine was more abundant than what was usually available at home.
There were even unopened one-time use syringes.

The medicine bottles were all in English, and there were even some crazy Latin words.
He compared them to the translation software on his mobile phone and reluctantly chose some medicine that might be useful.
He didn’t dare to take the oral Medicine that had been kept for so many years.
Eating it was probably the same as drinking arsenic with a smile.
The external medicine could be used together with some other medicine.
He put it into his first aid kit along with the syringe, just in case.

With the consumption of supplies, his backpack was much lighter, so he didn’t mind adding a little more weight.

As for the other things in the house … He looked through them roughly and found nothing useful or valuable.
However, he found a frame on the bed in the bedroom, which confirmed his guess that the owner was a Native American.

He simply cleaned up the dust in the bedroom and living room.
Although he was only staying for one night, he couldn’t be too indulgent.
Then he began to boil water to prepare dinner and lit the fireplace.

The elves were all gathered by the fireplace, warming themselves up and knocking on the plates, waiting for the meal.
He was the only one busy.

Dinner was the same as lunch.
The elves had roasted beaver meat, while he had a combination of rice, wild vegetables, and canned food.
The kitchen was full of pots and pans, but the problem was that his cooking skills were too advanced.
Even with kitchenware, he couldn’t cook well.

The Wolf Pack did not stay idle at night.
They went hunting by themselves and only came back after filling their stomachs.
They slept outside the house, and one could hear them chasing and playing outside the house.

It was rare to have a shower, and since he entered the forest, he hadn’t taken a shower for many days, so he simply boiled a few more buckets of hot water and took a random shower.
After washing his hair that was as sticky as a bird’s nest, he suddenly felt refreshed and felt much lighter.
The dirty water from the shower almost blocked the sewer.

That night, perhaps because he was used to sleeping in a tent, or perhaps because he was not used to sleeping in a stranger’s bed, Zhang Zian was a little excited.
He did not fall asleep until the second half of the night.
He even dreamed that the owner of the house, an India had suddenly returned, pointing a dark double-barrel shotgun at his head, trying to extort him for a huge sum of money for the accommodation fee …

That’s why you’re so conflicted even when you’re dreaming.

[PS: at my request, I wish the Italy readers and sand sculpture group members a Happy Birthday in Coldland Gucheng.]

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