America: The neighbor's wife is so incredibly hospitable!

"It tastes good."

Chen An drank the milk in one gulp and then quickly got to work.

Although I have some money now, I am still far from the $20,000 tax threshold.

Moreover, this farm, named Sunset Creek, is like a leaky barrel, in need of repair everywhere.

If the house isn't repaired, forget about enjoying life; he might even freeze to death in the winter.

"Keep making money."

Chen An changed into a windbreaker, put on rain boots, slung a double-barreled shotgun over his shoulder, and headed towards the back of the mountain once more.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

This time, Chen An's goal was even clearer.

Besides the burned area from yesterday, he plans to explore even deeper.

At nine o'clock in the morning, the fog in the forest had not yet dissipated.

Chen An was lucky; perhaps his newbie protection period hadn't ended yet. He found several clusters of fresh black morel mushrooms next to two huge fallen cedar trees.

Perhaps because of the dew last night, these mushrooms have grown exceptionally plump.

Just as Chen An bent down to cut the mushrooms, a low, threatening growl came from the bushes on his right.

"Grrr..."

Chen An paused in his movements and slowly straightened up.

Thirty meters away, a gray coyote crouched low, baring its teeth and staring intently at him.

Or rather, he was eyeing the mushrooms in his wicker basket and the dry rations hanging from his waist.

It looked very thin, with mottled fur, probably starving, and its eyes gleamed with a menacing green light.

In Montana, coyotes are among the most hated pests for ranchers.

They steal chickens, kill calves, and sometimes even attack lone children.

"You want a piece of the pie too?"

Chen An remained calm.

He calmly placed the wicker basket at his feet and slowly and smoothly took the double-barreled shotgun from behind his back.

If it were a bear, he might consider backing down. But a coyote?

That's a walking $50.

The coyote seemed to sense danger, its hind legs slightly bent, as if it were pouncing or fleeing.

"Click".

Chen An released the safety, the butt of the rifle pressed firmly against his shoulder, and the rusty front sight locked onto the coyote's head.

That's the beauty of America. On this private property, shooting is perfectly legal as long as you're protecting property, including mushrooms.

"Bang!"

A loud bang echoed through the mountains and forests, startling countless birds into flight.

Chen An felt as if he had been punched hard in the shoulder, and the recoil was greater than he had expected.

The pungent smell of gunpowder burning instantly filled the air.

Look further into the distance.

The coyote didn't even have time to howl before it was knocked to the ground by a barrage of deer bullets, twitched twice, and then lay still.

Chen An walked over, kicked the corpse with his boot, and after confirming that it was completely dead, he drew his hunting knife from his waist.

He didn't plan to drag the whole wolf back; it was too smelly, and nobody would eat it.

Following the instructions he had seen in the guide yesterday, he skillfully cut off the large, furry tail and put it into a sealed plastic bag.

"We should be grateful for the gifts of nature."

Chen An tossed the bag containing the tail into the corner of the wicker basket, feeling quite pleased with himself.

It wasn't just for the $50 bounty, but also because this shot gave him a real sense of control over power.

The moment that gunpowder exploded seemed to shatter the shackles that bound him as a submissive office worker.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

11:00 AM. Whitefish, "Aurora" restaurant.

When Chen An pushed open the kitchen door again, it was in complete chaos.

"Get out! Take all that snot-like trash with you and get out of here!"

That familiar, grumpy little girl voice was piercing through the noisy exhaust fan and echoing throughout the kitchen.

The silver-haired chef named Katie was standing in front of a stainless steel worktop.

Holding a handful of wet, limp mushrooms, he slammed them hard into the face of a supplier in a suit.

"Do you think I'm blind? Huh? You're thawing two-year-old frozen goods and passing them off as fresh?"

Are you insulting my intelligence, or are you insulting French cuisine?!

Katie was so angry that her face turned red, and her tall chef's hat was askew.

The supplier, his face covered in mushroom juice, awkwardly wiped his face and said, "Chef Katie, let me explain, this really just arrived yesterday..."

"Just arrived my ass! Are you trying to poison my guests with this stench of refrigerator deodorizer?"

Katie banged her large spoon against the glass. "Louis! Blacklist this guy!"

"If I see his car parked in the back alley again, I'll dump the rest of the bucket of swill on his windshield!"

The unfortunate supplier slunk away.

Chen An stood at the door, watching this scene, and couldn't help but whistle.

"She's really short-tempered. Looks like I've come at the wrong time?"

Upon hearing the sound, Katie turned her head sharply.

When she saw Chen An leaning against the doorframe with a mocking smile on his face,

When he saw the familiar wicker basket in his hand, his fiery green eyes instantly lit up.

It's like a Persian cat that's seen a can of premium cat food.

"It's you!"

Katie dropped her spoon and rushed over in a few strides.

Because of the significant height difference, she had to raise her head and speak in a commanding tone:

"Let me see it! If you dare try to fool me with garbage, you'll end up like that idiot from before!"

Chen An shrugged and flipped open the newspaper.

"My reputation, like my face, can withstand the test of time."

This batch is even better than yesterday's. They are uniform in size, with thick flesh, and because Chen An cleaned the soil off the roots this time, they look even more pleasing to the eye.

Katie's gloved little hands held up a mushroom, and her expression instantly changed from a tyrannical dragon to an angel.

"This is what I want... this feel, this elasticity..." She took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes in blissful contentment, "You're the only person this week who didn't try to drive me crazy."

"75 US dollars a pound, no bargaining." Chen An punctured her fantasy at the opportune moment.

Katie opened her eyes, glared at him, and snorted, "You greedy capitalist. But I like your straightforwardness. How much this time?"

"Eight pounds. Plus a small bag of chanterelle mushrooms, consider it a free gift." Chen An pointed to the small bag next to him.

"Louis! Give me the money!"

Katie waved very generously.

After the transaction was completed, Chen Angang put the stack of green US dollars into his pocket and was about to turn around and leave.

"Hey, wait a minute."

Katie's somewhat awkward voice came from behind.

Chen An turned around: "Is there anything else? Although you're very cute, I don't provide any extra services."

"Pah!" Katie blushed and rolled her eyes. "Who wants your service! I mean... I just tried out a new dish and made a little too much."

"As the ingredient provider, I'll reluctantly let you try the poison, so you won't complain that my menu this week doesn't do justice to your mushrooms."