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

By the time Qin Yun rebuilt a simple wooden shelter, it was already four a. m., but sunrise here wasn't until 9:30, so he still had a long wait.

Still, with the shelter built, he finally let out a breath.

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

Qin Yun's expression was strange: "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 out laughing.

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

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

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

"I'd send a thousand."

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

Qin Yun blew on his hands, laid out the wolf hide inside the shelter, and lay down directly; with the fire burning at the shelter's entrance, though the temperature remained low, at least he wouldn't freeze to death—but 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 China's Douyin are watching my stream—I'm going to sleep now. Poor rest here is a deadly danger. See you tomorrow."

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

……

On the subsequent journey, Qin Yun occasionally ventured onto the lake to fish, each time 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 nutritionally rich.

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

Even someone as strong as Tom, though not starving, found his food quality pale in comparison to Qin Yun's—it was like Michelin three-star versus a food cart. Not to mention many others were going days without regular meals, sleeping poorly, living in constant fear, and enduring extreme hardship.

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

It was now January 5th, 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 check-in point. If I'm lucky, I'll reach it tomorrow."

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

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

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

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

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

"I just checked Guo Yao's stream—she's lost a whole circle of weight, such a beautiful woman, 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. Reducing to ten will take at least a month."

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

"Snowing?"

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

Now it was finally snowing.

He didn't think much of it and continued toward the check-in point.

But as he walked, he sensed something was wrong.

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

Netizens in the livestream chat flooded the comments section upon seeing Qin Yun's grave expression.

Qin Yun said: "It's not snow—it's sleet. A kind of icy granules harder than snow but smaller than hail; it stings the skin."

"Once this starts, it probably won't stop anytime soon—I must find shelter quickly."

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

"How long will it last?"

"At least six hours."

Daniel nodded. Six hours was enough to pile up thick snow—making movement arduous and survival itself questionable.

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

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

Daniel shook his head, unconvinced.

As the report had predicted, the sleet intensified. Even with tree cover, the icy granules fell wildly—within moments, visibility vanished, and the forest, once showing patches of bare ground, disappeared entirely.

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

He probed the snowpack, then had an idea: "I need to build a shelter. But conventional shelters are hard to find now—I can use the snow to dig a snow cave."

"Snow cave?"

Douyin netizens froze at the words.

"Is Qin Ye insane? Aren't snow caves colder?"

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

"I still can't understand how living in a snow cave isn't freezing."

Qin Yun found a flat area and began piling snow.

"Many of you probably know the Inuit who live in the Arctic Circle—they dwell year-round in igloos, where temperatures drop to minus fifty degrees, yet their igloos maintain zero to 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 temperature can sustain life."

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

Qin Yun moved quickly, but the sleet fell even faster—in mere moments, visibility vanished entirely, accompanied by howling winds.

Extreme cold isn't terrifying—the wind is.

Wind strips body heat away, causing hypothermia in minutes.

Qin Yun sped up, and two hours later, around two in the afternoon, he finally finished building a medium-sized snow hut—its exterior shaped like a hollowed-out semicircle, looking quite nice.

After constructing the snow cave, Qin Yun went outside to gather stones and began stacking them into a stove.

But while the stove was easy, he couldn't find a flue pipe for a while.

Without a flue pipe, he'd be dead from carbon monoxide poisoning in no time.

As the snowfall grew heavier and visibility dropped to nearly zero, Qin Yun finally found a hollow, dead spruce branch—though brittle, he carefully threaded it through a hole in the snow hut's roof and secured it over the stove's opening.

With the flue pipe now in place, he started a fire.

To ensure smoke would escape through the spruce branch, he gathered firewood, piling enough to last until tomorrow, then finally let out a slight sigh of relief.

"This damn weather—no telling when it'll stop. If it keeps up, it's clearly bad news for me."

Only two days left—if I'm stuck here and miss the check-in point to activate next week's qualification, that'd be terrible luck.

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

He was a wilderness hunter, yes, but still flesh and blood—he had to follow basic logic.

He pulled out the frozen Arctic char and began preparing lunch; after working all morning, he hadn't eaten a thing and was starving.

Over these past few days, his food supplies besides fish included one smoked snow rabbit and a pile of wild berries—his provisions were fairly plentiful.

"Fuck!"

Tyson, the Black man, stared at the directionless, snow-blanketed world, his dark face filled with frustration and rage.

Over five days, he'd slowly adapted to life here—though harsh, he believed he still had a good chance of making the top ten.

But this sudden snowstorm had shattered his hopes completely.

The wind howled; he couldn't even find shelter from the snow. After several attempts, he had to admit he might have to call for rescue—otherwise, he wouldn't last.

The ice pellets striking his body, combined with the wind, sapped his body heat constantly; he'd already shivered multiple times.

Tyson was like this, and so were the other few people buried under snow.

Tim and Damon both reluctantly pressed their rescue buttons and waited for help.

But Yamamoto Kazusuke refused to give up so easily. Though he was cold, he'd been lucky—he found a cave nestled among the trees, and without hesitation, he crawled inside… then nearly died of fright.

On camera, everyone saw several brown bears sleeping soundly inside.

Yamamoto Kazusuke swallowed hard, slowly backed away, his heart pounding wildly.

He feared any tiny movement might wake the terrifying beasts before him—he was certain that if he did, he'd die a horrific death, no rescue could save him, because there'd be no time.

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

He shuddered all over, then turned and ran.

But forests aren't easy to run through—no sooner had he fled a short distance than tree roots tripped him, and he slammed hard into a rock.

He passed out immediately.

Watching this, Japanese netizens erupted in curses.

"Idiot! Yamamoto Kazusuke, a coward!"

"Boycott him—he'll never make it in the livestreaming world even if he comes back."

"I'm furious! So embarrassing!"

"Worthless trash!"

"Go to hell."

Many Japanese viewers, enraged, shut off the livestream; without their countrymen, many others instantly lost interest.

At the production camp, Daniel shook his head at the big screen and immediately ordered the rescue team into action.

Then he fixed his gaze on Live Stream #32.

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

Within the blizzard's covered area, five people total—now four eliminated, leaving only Qin Yun.

"Director, the meteorological bureau reports this storm may last a full day and night, stopping around noon tomorrow."

Daniel felt a pang of regret, but rules were rules—if Qin Yun couldn't reach the check-in point on time to activate his qualification, he'd have to be eliminated, no choice.

Once the snow continued until noon tomorrow, even with no dangers along the way, Qin Yun clearly wouldn't make it in time.

After days of observation, as director, he'd grown fond of Qin Yun—he was someone who brought heat to the show, and whether through his strength or his massive fanbase, he hoped Qin Yun would successfully pass Week One.

"Qin, what will you do?"

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