Chapter 184: Arrival at Atlin

"Hah—!"

Letting out a low roar, Qin Yun made no hesitation, instantly dashing onto the snow platform, then powering upward with a sudden burst, his body launching into the air.

"Damn, so cool, I'm licking the screen."

"Qin Ye's got guts—his dictionary doesn't even have the words 'afraid'."

"666, Qin Ye's flying, wuhu—"

Wind howled past his ears; Qin Yun's powerful core force twisted his body rapidly, his left hand reaching out to firmly grip the inner edge of his boards, completing a Mute grab. In midair, his figure spun continuously—one revolution, two, three—a perfect 1080-degree rotation.

Simultaneously, his body tilted slightly, executing the Double Cork's dual-axis motion—fluid, seamless, not a single mistake.

Then his body landed steadily, the boards slamming hard against the ice, carving a wide arc before coming to an abrupt stop.

Another D3—he glanced at the system panel; only three D3s remained, but the real challenge lay in D4 and D5—no suitable height existed, making these maneuvers nearly impossible to attempt.

"OMG, 1080 with double cork—Qin Ye is insane."

"Even in a major competition, this move would score high—let alone pulling off D3 under such brutal conditions—it's downright supernatural."

"I declare Qin the god of the wilderness."

Qin Yun pulled his attention from the system panel and looked into the camera.

"Ten kilometers away—I estimate about five left. I wonder if you're enjoying the view? Too bad I can't see your comments; otherwise this journey would've been even more interesting."

Qin Yun muttered a few more words and continued gliding forward.

After the snowstorm ceased, the overwhelming sense of desolation became especially stark in the footage—especially when the drone pulled upward, reducing Qin Yun's figure to a tiny black dot, leaving everyone immersed in the solitude of boundless sky and earth.

"A thousand mountains, no birds in flight; ten thousand paths, no trace of man."

Qin Yun spoke the line in Chinese, gliding swiftly across the ice plain on his boards. His figure rose and fell continuously—the only living thing on this vast, empty lake.

After gliding five or six kilometers straight, an ordinary person would be utterly drained—but for Qin Yun, as long as he wasn't performing tricks, skiing was essentially resting.

This was the instinct born from pushing his skiing skill to its extreme—skiing consumed no more energy than walking.

As time passed, he completed several more difficult maneuvers, leaving only one D4 and one D5 remaining.

Whether D4 or D5, both required sufficient air height—otherwise, insufficient hang time made execution impossible.

But the ice surface of Atlin Lake clearly wasn't as perfect as he'd imagined. Though a day and night of snowfall had formed some slopes and jumps, he hadn't seen a single one reaching even four or five meters in height.

"Forget it—such jumps are rare finds. Let's just finish the task first."

Qin Yun sighed helplessly.

Ahead on the ice, a steep slope appeared—over ten meters long, like an ice overhang jutting sharply toward the sky, though its height was modest, barely over two meters.

He quickly lowered his center of gravity, reducing wind resistance, and accelerated.

In an instant, his boards hit the slope, his entire body hurtling skyward, as if breaking free from gravity's grasp.

One revolution, two, three, four—1440-degree aerial spin, plus triple cork—another flawless D4, executed as steady as an old dog. But on landing, his board slipped slightly, nearly throwing off his balance.

Qin Yun stopped to inspect—his left board had developed a crack, small but enough to risk further violent impacts.

He showed the crack to the camera and chuckled bitterly: "These boards have held up this long already—hard to believe. But judging by this, they won't survive any bigger impacts."

After speaking, he glanced back at the slope—whether another good jump awaited him ahead was uncertain. Since his boards had reached their limit and the path ahead was unknown, why not try completing the final D5 right here?

Though the height was insufficient, his exceptional body control should compensate—if he built enough speed, it might still work.

Without hesitation, after making his decision, he announced his plan to the livestream audience.

The viewers couldn't understand.

Night was coming fast—why waste time attempting these extreme skiing tricks instead of pushing forward?

Qin Yun couldn't explain it was due to the system's check-in task—he backed up on his boards, placed a motion camera on the slope, and retreated three hundred meters before stopping.

"Is Qin Ye insane? This height? Attempting a five-revolution aerial spin? Too extreme."

"You can't judge Qin Ye by normal standards—I still haven't seen his limit."

"Trust Qin Ye—he can do it."

"Night's coming—walking won't get you there before dark."

At this moment, the drone rose high, the motion camera positioned—Qin Yun gripped his poles tightly, eyes sharp, poised to launch.

If only some BGM played right now—the atmosphere would be perfect.

"Huh—!"

Exhaling a deep breath, Qin Yun shoved his poles hard into the ice—his boards surged forward.

With three hundred meters of acceleration, he needed maximum speed—otherwise, insufficient momentum would cripple his takeoff height. Since the entire ice plain was flat, with virtually no slope, this speed had to come entirely from his own power—no external help possible.

As his speed built, he began swaying left and right, using curved motions and pole pushes to accelerate further.

At this moment, nearly ninety percent of the entire Wild Survival livestream audience focused solely on Qin Yun's stream—his viewership surged far beyond all others, leaving no comparison possible.

This was only the first week—through his solo feats, Qin Yun had quietly built his reputation.

Impossible to imagine what his fame would reach if he truly won the final championship—likely rivaling that of superstars.

In the camera, Qin Yun's figure raced toward the slope like a wild horse let loose, moving at terrifying speed, snow spraying beneath his boards.

One hundred meters… two hundred… three hundred…

As his boards hit the slope, his center of gravity dropped to its lowest—then, as he launched off, a terrifying force exploded from his feet, shattering the slope's surface into a massive upward thrust, sending him soaring to an unprecedented height.

Simultaneously, the D5's 1800-degree aerial spin with extreme corking unfolded rapidly in midair.

The incredible body control granted by his Master and Legend-level skills was displayed in full perfection.

When he completed every motion, his body was still three meters above ground—the forward momentum hadn't ceased.

In that instant, he forgot what he was doing; as he stabilized, he tilted his board's nose upward at a seventy-degree angle, landing on his tail while continuing to surge forward.

In the camera, the scene looked as if he were gliding solely on his tail—elegant, fluid, flawless.

After gliding only a dozen meters, in the midst of this stunning display—

"Snap—!"

A crisp snap suddenly rang out, and Qin Yun, who had been steady as a rock, suddenly lost his balance. The ski on his left foot snapped clean in two and popped right off his boot.

In an instant, the off-balance Qin Yun tumbled sideways.

But he had long been prepared for this. With his right ski pole he planted hard, trying to steady himself, while calling out loudly: "I knew this move would push the ski to its limit — I was ready for it."

Mid-sentence, he suddenly leapt forward into a front flip, landed on one foot, spun 180 degrees, and carved an inner turn to brake in a backward stance, his body nearly parallel to the ground, sending snow spraying into the air.

By the time he came to a stop, the ski pole in his right hand had also snapped.

"Holy shit, that was cool as hell — and dangerous as hell too."

"Only Qin-ye could pull that off. A normal person would've died on the spot."

"Qin-ye's out of skis now, huh? Gonna have to go on foot."

"Haha, serves you right for showing off."

Hopping off his skis, Qin Yun carefully inspected the remaining right ski and found it had a crack too, but it was still usable — no big deal, as long as he didn't ride it hard.

He then retrieved the action camera from the slope and said to the drone's lens: "I know a lot of people are probably wondering how I'm going to get around without skis."

He patted the right ski in his hand and grinned: "I'm not just good at two-plank skiing — I'm good at one-plank too. Sure, this one's shaped like a two-plank ski, but for me, using it in place of walking is no challenge at all."

Saying so, he set the ski down on the ground and stepped onto it. The ski was barely wide enough for an adult's foot, but Qin Yun used it as a pure snowboard. He pushed off with his left foot, and the ski slid forward.

At the same time, his attention fell on the system panel before him.

【Check-in Task Complete. Random reward obtained: BASE Jump +1】

【BASE Jump Skill LV1: Of the countless ways to court death, you've already mastered half of them. Keep it up.】

As the knowledge of the BASE Jump skill was instilled into him, Qin Yun found himself rather speechless at the skill's commentary.

But thinking it over, he really had mastered quite a few "court death" skills by ordinary standards.

Like free solo rock climbing, like longboard downhill, like diving — and now BASE jumping too. Who knows, maybe in the future he could use this BASE jumping skill for one extreme wilderness trip.

A two-plank ski and a one-plank snowboard really are different — Qin Yun had to forcefully control the board's direction, or he'd veer off course in no time.

He glided for over half an hour, and the sky gradually darkened.

Finally, he spotted a marker on the map — a triangular tower jutting out of the lake surface, clearly placed there by the production crew.

"Haha, look what I found." Qin Yun reached the triangular tower, pulled a map from his backpack, and said: "Following this triangular tower east for eight hundred meters is the PEP the crew set up."

He came to the lakeshore, stepped across the stones to land, walked about a hundred meters, and entered Lin Zi.

In an instant, the livestream's brightness dropped.

The snow on the ground was still deep — it wouldn't melt anytime soon. Qin Yun trudged through it, stepping deep and shallow as he went.

Around nightfall, a massive spruce tree came into view.

On the trunk, in spray paint, were three big letters: PEP.

"Now I just wait for the crew to show up." Qin Yun looked around, and quickly spotted a large fallen tree not far away.

The tree was thick — about eighty centimeters in diameter.

Qin Yun brushed the snow off the trunk, looking for thinner birch logs as he spoke: "I'm planning to find some logs and prop them against the spruce from the other side. That angle will be perfect for building a shelter."

Production crew camp.

Seeing Qin Yun reach the PEP safely, Xia Weiwei let out a small sigh of relief — by now the coffee in her hand had gone cold.

The first week's show had gone fairly smoothly, with only ten eliminated. But the second week would be harder, because the PEP would be farther away, and more people would surely be eliminated.

By their planning estimates, after four weeks the numbers would hit their target and they could move into the second phase.

As time passed, a campfire flared to life, and Qin Yun's shelter was successfully built.

Before long, the smell of food began to drift through the air.

In a tree hollow some distance from the PEP, a tiny creature sleepily opened its eyes, wobbled out of the hole following the scent, and made its way toward Qin Yun.