Chapter 141: Alone Enters the Wild Seven Stars Mountain

The room was warmly heated, and when Su Huan stepped out of the bathroom, she felt not the slightest chill.

She glanced at Qin Yun's room, poured herself a glass of water, sat on the living room sofa wrapped in a bathrobe, and began texting someone with a cold sneer.

"So cold and aloof, Miss Su? I thought you were more reserved—once someone divorces you, you're the first to rush in?"

Looking at the reply, Su Huan didn't get angry; instead, she smiled faintly: "Regret it? You've been divorced for months—why are you still watching every move Qin Yun makes?"

"Regret? I've never regretted anything. I just can't believe you actually thought Qin Yun would ever like someone who only knows how to hitchhike on others' luck? When he had no power before, why didn't you show up?"

"You've probably forgotten—I knew Qin Yun long before you did." Su Huan crossed one leg, the bathrobe slipping slightly, revealing a smooth, slender calf—yet she felt no cold at all. "Besides, Qin Yun has always been capable. Why, in your mouth, was he ever powerless? Yet when you were with him, you never noticed—only after you left did he suddenly seem capable?"

Song Ya flew into a rage: "Su Huan, you bitch—you can only pick up what I threw away!"

"Then thank you for abandoning Qin Yun." Su Huan's gaze turned icy. "I'll be honest—I've liked Qin Yun since freshman year. I just never expected a shallow woman like you would get to him first. Hmph. Fortunately, someone as shallow as you was dumb enough to send him right back to me. Honestly, I should thank you."

"Bitch, filthy bitch, slut—you worthless slut!"

Words had no power—Song Ya, furious, immediately called a voice message.

But Su Huan had no intention of giving her that chance; she casually hung up and replied: "Song Ya, some things in life have no antidote. You must understand clearly—Qin Yun now is beyond your reach. You discarded him like trash; I treasure him like jade."

After typing and sending those words, she swiftly deleted Song Ya from her friends list.

Far away in Beijing, Song Ya stared at the glaring red exclamation mark and screamed in fury—unbearable shouts echoed through the room, mixed with the sounds of things being smashed and thrown.

In high spirits, Su Huan opened Weibo notifications, glanced at Qin Yun's Weibo, then paused and knocked on his door.

"Qin Yun, are you asleep?"

*Click!

The door opened, and Qin Yun appeared before Su Huan.

"Yeah, just about to sleep."

He finished speaking and noticed her unusually cheerful expression. "What's so funny?"

"Hehe, nothing!" Su Huan squeezed past him into the room. "I just gave a nasty piece of trash a real thrashing—left her speechless and fuming."

Qin Yun chuckled. He hadn't expected gentle Su Huan had this side to her.

But watching her pace around his room, he felt a strange unease.

"Hey, why are you even in here? It's late at night—man and woman alone. I care about my reputation."

Su Huan, annoyed, slammed her fist into his arm—but the hard muscle jolted her own hand with pain.

"Ugh, why are you so hard?"

Qin Yun rolled his eyes. "Lady, don't say things that make people misunderstand, okay?"

Su Huan's face flushed instantly. "I meant muscles! Muscles! Don't go imagining things!"

"I'm not imagining anything." Qin Yun shook his head, gripped her shoulders, spun her around, and pushed her toward the door. "But it's late. I need to sleep. You should too—you woman obsessed with muscles."

Su Huan struggled, furious—but against Qin Yun, her strength was useless.

*Bang!

Watching the door shut, Su Huan stomped her foot. "You're the one obsessed with muscles, idiot!"

Then she burst into a soft laugh, her eyes filled with tenderness as she whispered quietly: "Goodnight," and returned to her room.

Meanwhile, Qin Yun stared at the system interface before him, a quiet joy stirring in his chest.

…

The next morning, he accepted from Su Huan the product for the business order—five Snickers bars.

He slung his backpack over his shoulders and set off directly from the hotel.

The trails inside the scenic area were relatively even, paved with stone slabs, flanked by dense forests where wind rustled through leaves with a soft *shush-shush*.

The scenic area hadn't officially opened yet; apart from the mountain hotel, there was no sign of life along the path.

After walking over half an hour, he finally saw a massive green stone—the Seven Stars Boundary Marker. The four large characters on it were faded, surrounded by overgrown weeds.

He checked the time—about ten minutes until 8 a. . and began preparing.

The signal still relied entirely on DJI's AI drone, but this signal couldn't be used to make phone calls. DJI's product had truly solved many obstacles on his self-media journey.

Without solving the signal issue, his livestreaming career would be dead—places like Yao Mei Peak, Daxinganling, or Qaidam were out of the question.

He launched the drone, activated all lenses, sent the auxiliary drone flying ahead, then clicked "Go Live" just after 8 a. .

As soon as his figure appeared on screen, viewers flooded into the livestream.

Within one or two minutes, viewership surpassed 100, 00—and kept climbing rapidly.

"Good morning, Brother Qin."

"Brother Qin, was what you said yesterday true? What actually happened?"

"It must be true—I've seen that guy before."

"Brother Qin, go live, go live—we're waiting!"

"Brother Qin, 5666!"

Scanning the comments, Qin Yun greeted them.

"Hello everyone, I'm Qin Yun, a temporary wilderness rescue specialist. I'm currently at the Seven Stars Boundary Marker in the Seven Stars Mountain Scenic Area. This line divides the front and rear zones—the rear zone is mostly primeval forest, no signal, treacherous terrain, with wild beasts roaming. Today, I'm not here for wilderness survival—I'm here for a fan named Zhang Kui."

"I've emphasized repeatedly in my livestreams: what's simple for me isn't necessarily easy for you. This time, Zhang Kui is a lesson—I hope he's still alive." He glanced at his Casio watch. "So far, Zhang Kui has been missing for fifty-four hours. I've already reported him missing to the police, but before they verify it, I'll enter the primeval forest ahead of schedule to search for him."

"Whoa… so it's real."

"Missing that long? He's probably dead."

"Someone actually tried to imitate Brother Qin in the wilderness? I thought everyone had some self-awareness."

"Damn, seeing Brother Qin so calm, plenty of people probably think they can do it too."

"If this guy dies because of the streamer, the streamer might get banned. Heh."

"Brother Qin is so unlucky!"

Qin Yun looked up at the sky—last night had been clear with stars, but now the sky was overcast.

Beyond the boundary marker, the path turned rugged—the stone slabs vanished, replaced by muddy dirt trails and rocky slopes.

The slopes were thick with trees; once you entered, visibility dropped instantly.

Qin Yun didn't hurry. He walked slowly, scanning the ground for traces of Zhang Kui.

He walked, occasionally pulling out his phone to check for signal.

After about two hundred meters, the forest grew denser, branches and leaves intertwining, completely blocking the sky—only faint light filtered through.

"The air smells of decaying leaves, but there's also a faint fragrance of trees. Still, look—my phone still has signal. I'm clearly still within range of the cell tower."

He held up his phone for the camera.

No sooner had he spoken than his gaze froze. He stepped forward, crouched down, and picked up a yellow cake wrapper.

Zooming in, Qin Yun said gravely: "This yellow cake wrapper looks fresh. No one normally comes here, so it's almost certainly Zhang Kui's. But all footprints along the way have vanished—after so long, they've been blown away."

Walking and searching, he found several more food wrappers scattered across the forest floor.

"Damn, this Zhang Kui is littering everywhere."

"Unbelievable—he came here for wilderness survival livestreaming, yet brought so many snacks? That was a Weilong spicy strip, right?"

"Heh, so you can imagine how ridiculous most wilderness survival livestreams on Douyin are—hardly anyone is as hardcore as Brother Qin."

"Brother Qin is the #1 outdoor livestreamer on the entire platform. That Luo Jiahai still claims in his videos that Brother Qin's streams are all filmed by a team—maybe he's got his brain wired wrong."

Qin Yun glanced at the comments and smiled. "You're flattering me too much—I'll get embarrassed. But there are still hardcore streamers on Douyin—for example, Guo Yao, the other contestant from China in this wilderness survival category. She's a girl, but anyone who's watched her streams knows she has no team. If you're interested, check her out. Oh, and she's really good-looking—she could be a beauty streamer easily."

Guo Yao, watching Qin Yun's livestream, suddenly got a message and froze—then, seeing him praise her looks, she blushed slightly.

But mostly, she felt joy.

Douyin had already announced the two contest slots; she'd switched from Douyu and now had over 300, 00 followers. But after hitting 300, 00, growth had stalled.

With Qin Yun's push, there was no doubt—her follower count would surge.

Qin Yun walked another hundred meters—then his phone signal abruptly cut out. From here on, he had officially entered Zhangjiajie's Wurenqu.

Soon, he found more traces left by Zhang Kui—but after following them for three or four hundred meters, they vanished completely. The dense vegetation had already erased all signs over the past few days.

"There's a faint stench!" Qin Yun crouched instantly, eyes alert. He drew his knife from his waist and stayed still, listening carefully.

Only the wind rustling leaves and birdsong filled the air—but the stench grew stronger.

"The stench is intensifying. Wild animals are likely nearby. In primeval forests, beyond treacherous terrain, there are sudden appearances of wild beasts. I'm different—I can advance or retreat with ease. But ordinary people? They'd panic instantly."

"Comfortable—Brother Qin is showing off again."

"Brother Qin's hunting time—let's pray together."

"What kind of wild animal? Could it be a bear?"

Qin Yun sniffed, his gaze locking onto a patch of grass ahead—then a low *oink* echoed, and the stench turned foul.

He quickly retreated, hiding behind a large tree, eyes fixed on the swaying grass. He ordered the auxiliary drone to rise, avoiding noise, and shut off the main drone's rotors.

Soon, a black wild boar appeared in the camera frame.

"It's Brother Ba Jie again."

"Brother Ba Jie, who fled from Brother Qin in Daxinganling, is back."

"This boar's huge—bigger than the one Brother Qin encountered in Daxinganling."

"Damn, those sharp tusks are terrifying."

Qin Yun watched the boar through the lens, then retreated further. Boars had an excellent sense of smell—he'd sprayed odor-masking mist before entering, but who knew if this one could still detect him?

He stayed silent, watching quietly.

The boar hadn't noticed Qin Yun. It lowered its head, rooting through the grass as if searching for food.

Minutes passed. The boar rooted for over ten minutes, found nothing, grunted in annoyance, turned, and trudged deeper into the forest—soon vanishing from view.

Only when the boar disappeared completely did Qin Yun exhale.

"I've got good luck—this is close to the boundary marker, and already a wild boar shows up? Unbelievable."