Chapter 181: Polar Graupel (Bonus Chapter, Trying to Boost Views)

By the time Qin Yun rebuilt a simple wooden shelter, it was already 4 a. ., but sunrise here wasn't until 9: 0, so he still had a long wait.

Still, with the shelter now in place, he finally let out a breath.

"You have no idea how terrified I was when I woke up and saw those dense clouds of snow fleas—it was fucking terrifying."

Qin Yun's expression was odd: "I think this is the worst thing I've ever encountered in my life. I'd rather face a few more polar wolves in combat than go through that scene again."

Seeing Qin Yun's expression, netizens back in China burst into laughter.

"Hahaha, first time seeing Master Qin look like this."

"666, if I could tip, I'd give Master Qin a pair of glasses."

"Fuck, don't even exaggerate— if it were me, I'd send Qin a hundred Carnivals."

"I'd send a thousand."

After relighting the fire, his face finally felt warm again; prolonged exposure to this temperature was extremely dangerous.

Qin Yun blew on his hands, laid out the wolf pelts inside the shelter, and lay down directly. With the fire burning at the entrance, the temperature was still freezing, but at least he wouldn't freeze to death—he still had to get up occasionally to add more firewood, or once the fire died, the cold would become unbearable.

"Alright, everyone—I don't know how many followers I have on TikTok, but I know plenty of friends on Douyin are watching my livestream. I'm going to sleep now; without proper rest in this hellhole, it's a deadly risk. See you tomorrow."

With that, Qin Yun ended the livestream and curled up inside the shelter, falling asleep shortly after.

…

On the subsequent journey, Qin Yun occasionally ventured onto the lake to fish, always returning with a good haul, and sometimes even shot game in the forest.

Along the way, the natural seasonings he gathered made every meal delicious and nutritious.

The sixty-to-seventy-kilometer hike had become nothing short of a gourmet tour of Atlin Lake in Canada, leaving the production crew feeling sorry for the others.

Even someone as strong as Tang Mu, though not starving, found his food quality paled in comparison to Qin Yun's—it was like comparing a Michelin three-star meal to a food truck. Not to mention many others were going days without regular meals, sleeping poorly, and living in constant fear and hardship.

Compared to Qin Yun, the others were truly surviving in the wild; he was merely traveling through it.

It was now January 5, with just over two days left until the end of the first week.

"According to my estimate, I'm less than ten kilometers from the checkpoint. If I'm lucky, I'll reach it tomorrow."

Qin Yun stood on the vast ice, studying his map, judging direction and position.

At that moment, several tails of Arctic char protruded from his backpack, occasionally twitching.

He tucked the map away, walked a stretch along the lake, then re-entered the forest.

Though five days had passed, his complexion looked excellent—more relaxed than when he streamed back in China.

"I looked at the others, then compared them to Master Qin—damn, it feels so unfair. They're not even on the same level."

"I just checked Guo Yao's livestream—she's lost weight all around, once such a beautiful girl, now so haggard."

"Anyone who makes it through next week is already impressive. So far, only four have been eliminated; by the end of the first week, I estimate over forty will remain. It'll take at least a month to whittle them down to ten."

Qin Yun walked a while, then felt a chill on his head—he looked up.

"Snowing?"

Snowfall here was normal, but since he landed, it hadn't snowed once—the snow on the ground had fallen long ago.

Now, unexpectedly, it was snowing.

He didn't give it much thought and continued toward the checkpoint.

But as he walked, he sensed something was wrong.

This snow felt oddly hard—he reached out to feel it, and his expression changed instantly.

Netizens in the livestream saw Qin Yun's grave expression and flooded the comment section.

Qin Yun said: "It's not snow—it's graupel. Harder than snow, smaller than hail—a kind of icy sand that stings the skin."

"Once this starts, it won't stop anytime soon. I need to find shelter fast."

At the production camp, Daniel received a report: a massive atmospheric system had engulfed one-tenth of Atlin Lake, trapping four or five contestants.

"How long will it last?"

"At least six hours."

Daniel nodded. Six hours was enough to pile up thick snow—making movement excruciating and survival itself a challenge.

He looked at George, whose expression was grim, and patted his shoulder: "Bad luck. Nothing you can do."

George said nothing, his eyes locked on the big screen showing livestream #32. After a long silence, he murmured: "Qin has faced worse. I believe he'll find a way."

Daniel shook his head, unconvinced.

As the report predicted, the snow intensified. Even with tree cover, the graupel fell violently—within moments, visibility vanished, and the forest, once showing patches of exposed ground, disappeared entirely.

The ground was now completely buried under snow, and the depth kept rising.

He probed the snowpack, then had an idea: "I need to build a shelter, but conventional ones won't work here. I can use the snow to dig a snow cave."

"Snow cave?"

Douyin viewers froze at the words.

"Master Qin's lost his mind—aren't snow caves colder?"

"I've watched Inuit documentaries—they live year-round in snow caves and igloos. Oh, and they're Mongoloid too—I suspect they're descended from Chinese migrants."

"I still don't get it—how can you live in a snow cave without freezing?"

Qin Yun found a flat spot and began piling snow.

"Most people know about the Eskimos—the Inuit—who live year-round in igloos, where it's minus fifty degrees, yet their igloos maintain temperatures between zero and twenty degrees."

"Because igloos are made of snow, and snow has excellent insulation—it blocks external cold and reduces heat loss. As long as heat doesn't escape, our own body heat can sustain life."

"The snow here isn't enough to make bricks, but I can stack it in layers—I only need enough space to lie down."

Qin Yun worked fast, but the graupel fell faster—in moments, his vision vanished, replaced by howling winds.

Extreme cold wasn't the danger—the wind was.

Wind stripped body heat, causing hypothermia in minutes.

Qin Yun sped up. Two hours later, around 2 p. ., he finished a modest igloo—its exterior a smooth, hollowed half-sphere, surprisingly neat.

After building the snow cave, Qin Yun gathered stones from outside and began constructing a stove.

The stove was easy, but finding a flue proved difficult.

Without a flue, he'd die of carbon monoxide poisoning in no time.

With graupel falling heavier and visibility near zero, Qin Yun finally found a hollowed spruce branch—brittle, but usable. He carefully threaded it through a hole in the snow dome and fitted it over the stove's opening.

With the flue in place, he lit the fire.

Confirming smoke escaped through the spruce branch, he gathered firewood, piling enough to last until tomorrow, then finally exhaled in relief.

"This damn weather—when will it stop? If it doesn't, it's bad news for me."

Only two days remained. If he got stuck here and missed the checkpoint to activate next week's eligibility, it would be terrible luck.

In this weather, even he wouldn't dare push forward through the storm.

He was a wilderness hunter, yes—but still flesh and blood, bound by basic logic.

He pulled out the frozen Arctic char and prepared lunch. He'd been busy all morning and hadn't eaten yet—he was starving.

Over the past few days, his food supply included fish, one smoked snow rabbit, and a pile of wild berries—plenty to work with.

"Fuck!"

Black man Tyson, facing a world stripped of direction, his dark face twisted with frustration and rage.

After five days, he'd slowly adapted—hardship, yes, but he believed he still had a good chance to make the top ten.

Then this sudden graupel storm shattered his hopes.

The wind howled—he couldn't even find shelter. After several failed attempts, he admitted he'd have to call for rescue, or he wouldn't survive.

The icy pellets striking his skin, combined with the wind, constantly sapped his body heat—he'd already shivered uncontrollably multiple times.

Tyson wasn't alone—others buried under snow faced the same fate.

Tim and Damon both reluctantly pressed their rescue buttons and were extracted.

But Yamamoto Kazusuke refused to give up. Though cold, he'd been lucky—he found a cave hidden among the trees and crawled inside, nearly dying of fright.

On camera, everyone saw several brown bears sleeping inside.

Yamamoto swallowed hard, slowly retreated, heart pounding.

He feared even the tiniest movement might wake the terrifying beasts—he was certain if they stirred, he'd die horribly, no rescue could save him in time.

He inched backward, and when he finally stepped out of the cave, his face was deathly pale.

He shuddered violently, then bolted.

But the forest wasn't easy to run through—he tripped over roots moments later, slammed hard into a rock.

He passed out instantly.

Watching this, Japanese netizens erupted in anger.

"Baka! Yamamoto Kazusuke is a coward!"

"Boycott him—he'll never make it in livestreaming again."

"I'm furious! So embarrassing!"

"Waste of space. Useless."

"Go to hell."

Many Japanese viewers shut off the livestream entirely. Without their countrymen, interest plummeted.

At the production camp, Daniel watched the screen, shook his head, and immediately ordered a rescue team into motion.

Then his gaze locked onto livestream #32.

Qin Yun showed no sign of being affected by the blizzard—inside his snow cave, he calmly ate fried fish and roasted rabbit, savoring every bite, utterly at ease.

Of the five people trapped in the storm, four had been eliminated—only Qin Yun remained.

Director, the meteorological bureau reports that this snowstorm may last for a full day and night, likely stopping around noon tomorrow.

Daniel felt a pang of regret, but rules were rules—if Qin Yun failed to arrive at the medical checkpoint on time to activate his qualification, he could only be reluctantly eliminated.

And if the snowstorm continued until noon tomorrow, even if there were no dangers along the way, Qin Yun clearly would not make it in time.

After observing him these past few days, as director, he genuinely liked Qin Yun—he was someone who could bring heat to the show, whether through his formidable strength or the vast population behind him, and he hoped the man would successfully pass the first week.

Qin, what will you do?

George sat in his chair, watching Qin Yun, calm and composed before the camera, thinking to himself.