"You always say I'm changing the subject, but in fact, I provide explanations for every word and sentence."
"Then please forgive our stupidity and unprofessionalism for not being able to dig out your answer that's buried a thousand feet beneath your words."
Shiller laughed a deep laugh, and Natasha turned her head in surprise, staring at Shiller. It was as if she had noticed a vitality in him that was completely different from before.
"Where were we? We said that family cos from a sense of responsibility, responsibility cos from love, and where love cos from is unclear. Maybe it's hormones, at least I know that's where sex cos from."
"But you ntioned that people with autism don't have this kind of obstacle." Nick pointed out.
"Yes, but we discussed that if there are other related sensory symptoms, it can be very dangerous, especially for the person experiencing it."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, propped her elbow on the arm of the couch, rest her index finger on her jaw, and said with interest, "You an you associate violence with sex, Doctor?"
"And we've discussed what the serious consequences of violence are." Shiller talked, as if discussing objective facts unrelated to him.
"Extre violence leads to death. You associate sex with death? In what way?"
After Natasha asked this question, Shiller seed sowhat tired. He sat up on the couch and put his empty teacup on the coffee table, yawned and said, "I'm a bit tired, I'll go up and rest first."
Having said both, speaking out he didn't wait for others to express their views. He just stood up and walked towards upstairs. Natasha, feeling that the conversation was at its climax, obviously didn't want to give up like this. She opened her mouth anxiously, but also felt that if Shiller didn't want to talk, asking wouldn't help.
"A good start, right?" Natasha shook her head helplessly, watching Shiller's figure disappear upstairs, and turned to Nick, "At least we know that Shiller chooses not to have a fixed or temporary partner, or start a family, possibly because his actions might bring harm to the other person."
"We can only continue to observe whether this is really the case." Nick also stood up, patted the fireplace ash that had fallen on his knee, and said as he walked upstairs, "I always feel it's not that simple, but it's good that he's willing to speak."
Soon, the rest of the people left one by one. The appropriate humidity and darkness in the cabin by the lake helped this group of pampered city dwellers sleep well.
The next morning, Shiller was awakened by a cool breeze. The wind blew a corner of the curtain onto his face, and it was still slightly damp and cold. Shiller woke up almost instantly. He sat up from the bed and, after dressing, ca downstairs to see Natasha tinkering with the coffee pot in the kitchen.
"You're awake. Nick and Steve have gone to check the ice conditions. If all goes well, we'll leave on ti at six o'clock. Although it's rather remote here and no one will compete with us for a spot, it's still better to go earlier."
Shiller sat down at the kitchen island, yawned slightly and still seed a bit sleepy. After dealing with the coffee grounds, Natasha turned around and was taken aback when she saw Shiller, looking at him from head to toe.
The female agent said nothing and turned back to her task. At this ti, Steve and Nick walked into the room. They were both covered with a harsh chill. Steve took off his thick coat, shook it forcefully, and stomped his feet on the door sill before entering.
Seeing Shiller waiting for coffee, Steve smiled and asked in surprise, "Doctor, why aren't you wearing glasses today?"
Shiller seed not to be fully awake yet. He didn't say anything and got off his stool, turned around, started walking towards the second floor and said, "I forgot, I'll go upstairs to get them."
Steve shook his head in confusion, he sat down on another stool, while Nick exchanged a glance with Natasha. Steve didn't understand the silent conversation, so he asked, "What's up?"
"No, nothing." Nick shook his head.
"I just saw Shiller's eyes clearly for the first ti," Natasha shrugged, "his glasses obstructed the view too much."
Following their conversation, Steve looked at Shiller, who had put on his glasses and ca out. He didn't find anything different, so he took the coffee from Natasha and started talking about ice fishing.
"The thickness of the ice layer is very suitable. We t the forest ranger at the edge of the woods, and he cracked the ice surface with a cone. A trout jumped out instantly, they have been suffocating under the ice layer for a long ti."
"There are boating activities on the lake here in the sumr," Nick added, "Although feeding is prohibited, tourists still drop leftover food into the lake, so the fish grow quite well here. Despite its immaturity, the trout is quite strong."
"Strong enough to slap you?" Natasha asked with a laugh.
"Don't make things up, it didn't slap . Steve reacted quickly and stopped it." Nick touched his coffee cup with Steve's and made a "tss" sound, then he said, "If only we had brought Tony along, then he would know what it feels like to be slapped by a trout."
Shiller sat down at the edge of the island, sipping the scalding coffee slowly. It wasn't until he had consud a whole cup of strong, hot coffee that he seed to finally wake up. He coughed softly and then asked, "What's the schedule for today?"
"We're going to fish on the lake all day, that's it."
"Do we really not need soone to prepare other food?" Shiller sighed, seeming not to hold much hope for the catch.
Steve and Nick imdiately raised their voices, repeatedly emphasizing that the fish they caught would be enough for a whole fish feast. Natasha shook her head, as if she'd had enough of them.
Erik and Charles ca in through the back door of the cabin. Erik took off his thick gloves, and Charles said, "We've prepared enough firewood to get us through tonight. When are we going fishing?"
"Now, let's go. We have to hike a mile and a half."
After that, everyone put on their gear, grabbed their fishing equipnt, folding stools, fire starters, bait, and other fishing essentials. Additionally, Steve also carried ice breaking tools.
On the way to the designated spot, a thin fog covered the ice surface, making it feel even colder and lonelier. Thankfully, the distant mountain view was quite pleasant. They chatted leisurely on the way, mostly discussing fishing techniques.
"Ice fishing is more fulfilling and rewarding than regular fishing, but it's not because you're a good angler. It's just that the fish are particularly vulnerable in this season. The more remote and cold, the more this is true," Ivan chid in.
"In Russia, especially near my house, people don't have the leisure that you do. We fish in the winter to fill our stomachs. Back then, we had five fishing rods at ho. We'd break open five holes at so distance from each other, prop up the fishing rods, and the fish we caught within two or three days would be enough to last us an entire winter."
"Once, I was running for my life in the forest," Natasha started, "I crossed several layers of shrubbery and saw a vast icy plain in front of . I took a rock and smashed a big hole in the ice. An unlucky char jumped out, allowing to have a hearty al. My bleeding also stopped significantly."
"Why are your mories of Russia always so hard?" Nick asked, completely baffled, "Blizzards, endless ice fields, cold and hungry people, oh god, are there no warm mories at all?"
"Of course there are. Didn't I ntion we ate fish all winter? Each al was pretty warm," Ivan spoke quite naturally.
"I survived because of that fish. Isn't that warm enough?" Natasha also seed to think it was obvious.
"Every full al you can find in a cold place is the most precious thing in the world," Erik unusually spoke a rhetorically complex sentence, which made Charles look at him.
"Alright, Aricans are just born with a silver spoon in their mouths, taking things for granted," Nick scoffed at himself.
During their casual conversation, they finally arrived at the open space Nick and Steve had chosen. A small lake ford by the tributary of a nearby large lake was surrounded by mountains on three sides. Here, the fog had dissipated.
They first set up their tools, put up their stools and tables, erected wind barriers, started a fire in an empty oil drum, and then began to look for a spot to drill through the ice.
Ivan led them, carrying a long ice drill, a chisel, and a shovel in one hand, while holding a stick in another hand with a roll of waste paper under his armpit.
Steve and Nick stood to the side with hands on their hips, watching Ivan evaluating the thickness of the ice. Natasha took long strides over and crouched next to the spot Ivan had chosen.
Ivan stomped the ground in front of him, indicating that it was the place. He then asked others to back off, and first drive a smaller ice drill into the ground. He swayed it left and right, drilling a conical hole in the thicker layer of ice.
Then he drove in a larger ice drill, poured so water onto the ground, and laid the waste paper on top. The supercooled water quickly stuck the newspaper firmly onto the ice. Ivan stood on top of it to prevent slipping, then started to hit the ice drill hard.
Ice breaking sounds simple, but it requires so skills. It's not enough to just drill a hole in the ice to fish. The selection and shape of the ice hole are very important.
After half a day of work by Ivan and help from Steve, it took about ten minutes for four or five people to drill a single ice hole. Then they began to calculate distances, directions, and even the wind direction for the second hole.
After drilling several ice holes, Natasha finally said, "I think it's enough. We should form groups of two or three. First try to catch as many fish as we can to solve the food problem. We can gather around and talk later."
Everyone agreed with this proposal. Everyone was very enthusiastic about ice fishing and was more concerned about the catch. So, of course, fishing was the main goal, and they would gather to talk when they got tired or needed to warm up, hence achieving their social purpose.
Shiller was planning to join Nick and Steve's group, but surprisingly, Natasha waved him over and said, "There's really nothing much for Russians to talk about. Let's be a group, the two of us."
Shiller just nodded in response, and then turned to look at Natasha, who was packing up her fishing gear, and asked, "How good is your fishing technique?"
"Good enough to feed us both."
"Then it's all up to you."
"So, your fishing technique is inferior?"
"It's pretty good for the fish."
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