Lin Yu’an wasn’t annoyed. Facing the camera, he spoke calmly.

"That’s how hunting is. The wind is the biggest variable. It can help you mask your scent and sound, or betray you at the most crucial moment."

"However, they didn’t fly far, just over that small ridge."

He walked to the arrow’s landing point and found only a small hole there. He thrust his entire arm deep into the cold snow.

Groping bit by bit under the snow, he finally touched a carbon fiber arrow shaft and pulled it out with a sigh of relief.

Carefully wiping off the ice and snow with his sleeve, he examined the sharp arrowhead and fletching to confirm it hadn’t been damaged in the impact.

Then, without hesitation, he pursued in the direction of that small ridge.

He crossed over the ridge, arriving on the other side where the terrain was more complex, filled with more shrubs and rocks.

He slowed his pace again, starting to search for new traces, and this time, he was even more cautious.

He spent nearly half an hour before discovering the footprints of the Thunderbird flock again by a denser thicket of willows.

They seemed to feel safe and were strolling leisurely in the snow, pecking at the tender buds.

Lin Yu’an took a deep breath and began his second stealth approach.

This time, he chose a more circuitous route, from the downwind side, using a massive rock as cover, inching forward bit by bit.

He successfully crept into a perfect position just fifteen meters from the target.

Four or five Thunderbirds were gathered under a willow tree bent under the snow, completely unaware of the danger.

He slowly drew another arrow, notching it, using the rock as cover, and gradually pulled the bowstring back.

His first target was the one in the middle with no obstruction. He used the simple sight on the bow handle to lock the arrowhead precisely on the Thunderbird’s chest.

"For such small prey, you must aim for the center of the torso, ensuring a lethal strike to instantly paralyze its nervous system, giving it no chance to struggle or alert others."

He held his breath, tightened the muscles in his back, aimed, and then released his fingers.

"Whoosh!"

The arrow soared from the string, almost soundlessly!

However, just as the arrow flew out, a dramatic scene unfolded!

The Thunderbird he aimed at stepped forward to peck at the last possible moment!

"Thud!"

A faint sound of the arrow piercing flesh was heard! The arrow didn’t pierce through its chest as expected but grazed its back and precisely struck one of its legs!

"Screech!"

The Thunderbird let out a piercing scream and jumped up abruptly! It did not die immediately.

Instead, dragging an arrow almost as long as its body, it flapped its wings, limped, and desperately fled towards the distant shrubs!

This scream startled the whole flock of birds again!

The remaining Thunderbirds, like startled rabbits, exploded into the air, frantically flapping their wings!

Lin Yu’an was extremely annoyed. He never anticipated such a result.

But there was no time for him to think further. He notched a second arrow, drew the bow, and aimed at a Thunderbird fleeing in the air!

But he did not release it in the end.

"No! I can’t take any more risks! That arrow is still on the prey!"

"The hit rate for moving targets is too low, especially in windy conditions! Once this arrow lands in the snow, it’ll be another difficult search."

He quickly made a decision, slinging his bow back over his shoulder, and chased after the wounded Thunderbird, leaving a clear trail of blood!

Flapping its wings, rolling and crawling, it desperately tried to reach the lifesaving dense forest ahead!

Lin Yu’an pursued relentlessly; he had to catch it before it reached the thicket he couldn’t penetrate!

Finally, after chasing nearly a hundred meters, the Thunderbird slowed because of excessive blood loss.

Seizing the moment, Lin Yu’an lunged, diving onto the snow and pinning the poor Thunderbird firmly beneath him.

He caught the struggling bird, finishing it swiftly by grabbing its neck.

Then, with great care, he pulled the blood-and-feather-stained arrow from its leg.

He sat in the snow, looking at the Thunderbird and the arrow he had recovered, unsure whether to feel happy or frustrated.

"A terrible hunt," he shook his head at the camera.

"I misjudged, underestimating the prey’s random movement at the last moment."

"The result is that I only harvested one bird, almost lost a precious arrow, and scared the entire flock away."

"They’ve surely flown farther away now, finding them again is nearly impossible."

He looked around, a hint of unwillingness flashed in his eyes, but he did not give up and instead decided to completely change his strategy.

"Since the flock is scattered, they are likely to act alone or in small groups of two or three."

"Their alertness is at its peak right now; I can’t use stealth to get close anymore. I have to reverse the situation and make them walk right into the trap."

He began searching nearby for a specific terrain, a narrow natural path covered in snow between two dense bushes.

He didn’t touch the ground but instead started constructing two low but dense fences on either side of the half-meter-wide passage using branches of varying lengths.

He inserted these branches deeply into the snow, one next to the other, forming a barrier that the thunderbird could not easily pass through.

He continued to narrow the passage until, at the narrowest point, only a ten-centimeter-wide gap was left.

Pointing to the "guiding fence" made of branches, he said, "Any thunderbird wanting to pass through here will naturally be guided by these two fences."

"Ultimately, they will choose to pass through this least obstructed gap, turning an open area into a ’must-pass point’ under our control."

He found a slightly thicker, more conspicuous branch and positioned it horizontally above this gap, about 15 centimeters high, like a crossbeam.

"This crossbeam is the key."

"For the thunderbird, this height is too high to jump over, and there’s no need to fly over it."

"So when it reaches here, its most instinctive choice is to lower its head and move under this crossbeam."

Lin Yu’an took out a steel tripwire and tightly fastened one end to the root of a sturdy bush beside the passage.

Then, he started twisting the other end of the steel wire into a sliding loop.

"The size of the lasso is crucial to success," he said while carefully adjusting the steel wire loop.

"When we caught rabbits before, the loop was fist-sized, but a thunderbird’s head and neck are much smaller."

"If the loop is too large, it might only bump into the lasso when its body passes through, which could end up around its wings, allowing it to easily escape."

He extended three of his fingers side by side to measure.

"For a thunderbird, the perfect size is about the width of three to four fingers."

"This size allows its head to easily slip in, but when its widest part attempts to pass through, it will inevitably touch the edge of the lasso, tightening it."

"This way, we can ensure the lasso locks precisely around its neck."

He secured the perfectly circular sliding loop directly below the "forced head-lowering" crossbeam.

Using a slender dry grass stalk as support, he gently propped up the bottom of the lasso loop to maintain its perfect circular shape.

"Done." He stepped back a few paces to inspect his work.

"This is a ’kill zone.’ The thunderbird is guided to the only gap, then forced to lower its head by the overhead crossbeam."

"As it ducks through, its slender neck will inevitably pass through the perfect lasso I’ve set for it."

He employed the exact same method, setting up identical low-profile tripwires every few meters along the long passage. He set up a total of three.

"Alright, the trap is set. Thunderbirds move in patterns; they usually forage back and forth within a particular area."

"The birds I startled earlier, once they feel safe, are very likely to return along this familiar route."

"Now, all I can do is leave and let time and luck take care of the rest."

He made no further stops, carefully erasing most of his tracks in the nearby snow, then turned and headed back toward the shelter.

By the time he returned to the warm, sturdy fortress, it was already afternoon.

Having toiled the entire day, he decided to immediately process the hard-earned trophy from the morning and prepare himself a hearty dinner.

He first set up a temporary processing platform using a flat stone slab at the entrance of the shelter.

From his backpack, he took out the lyrebird, which was already somewhat stiff.

He carefully made a long incision from the breastbone to the cloaca along the bird’s abdomen.

He reached into the warm chest cavity and skillfully removed all the organs intact.

"The innards of wild animals—some are treasures, and some must be discarded."

"First, the heart, liver, and gizzard are the most nutritious parts, rich in iron and various vitamins, and must not be wasted."

"Then, the intestines can be stored for a few days and used as bait for ice fishing; this strong smell can attract fish from afar."

He placed the intestines and some inedible organs aside, intending to bury them deep or use them as bait later.

"Thunderbird feathers are very dense, especially winter feathers, with a high proportion of down. Directly plucking them dry is very difficult and may tear the skin."

He opted not for dry plucking, instead pouring hot water from an iron pot into a roughly carved wooden container, immersing the thunderbird for about one or two minutes.

"Scalding with hot water, much like how we handle domestic chickens, allows the follicles to relax, making plucking much easier."

He took the thunderbird out of the wooden container and began plucking it downward, following the direction of feather growth.

Indeed, after being treated with hot water, the feathers, which were once tightly attached to the skin, were easily plucked off in clumps.

After about ten minutes, a cleanly plucked, plump thunderbird with white skin was ready.

——

(00:00 There’s another update, asking for lots of monthly tickets at the end of the month!!)