Chapter 186

January 7th, the first physical examination for Wild Survival.

As the helicopter's roar echoed, Qin Yun saw humans again for the first time in seven days.

The production crew members reacted even more excitedly than he did, greeting him enthusiastically.

The doctor conducting his exam was a woman who, under the guise of duty, felt him up enthusiastically—making Qin Yun speechless.

"Qin, your vital signs show no change at all—you're extremely healthy," said Doctor Linda, studying the results with admiration; no one could survive seven days in such harsh conditions without significant physiological changes—not even De or Be.

Yet Qin Yun showed absolutely no abnormalities, as if he were truly on vacation.

Even these crew members, standing here for just a few minutes, felt the cold biting at them.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it—it's my job," Linda said, instructing a crew member to activate Qin's qualification for next week in front of him, then handing him a new map. "Qin, this is the PEP location map for Week Two—it'll be harder than Week One. Be extremely careful; don't get eliminated."

"Thank you, I'll do my best."

Qin Yun took the map but didn't check it immediately, simply shoving it into his chest pocket.

The medical team and crew didn't linger; after finishing everything, they boarded the helicopter and left.

Once the helicopter vanished from sight, Qin Yun walked to the drone's camera and pulled out the map.

"Let's see where this week's PEP is—I hope it's still by the lake, so my movements will be easier."

As he spoke, he looked at the map and rubbed his nose: the new map showed only a faint trace of the lake at its edge, almost entirely dominated by forest. The new PEP marker was far from Atlin Lake, with a straight-line distance clearly marked: 85 KM.

"Looks like this week will be tough."

Walking 85 KM through forest isn't about the obstacles along the way—it's about direction. If you can't figure out direction, you're truly helpless.

But for Qin Yun, direction wasn't an issue—he had plenty of ways to lock his position. Besides, the production team clearly didn't want to be too extreme right away; the 85 KM route contained seven distinct landmarks, meaning it was artificially divided into eight segments.

Viewers in the livestreams now saw the maps displayed for each contestant.

Almost all had increased in difficulty.

This intensified viewers' desire to see contestants suffer, while support for individual contestants grew stronger by region.

After one week, nearly every contestant had gained their own fanbase, forming a clear divide: supporters matched the contestant's nationality.

Yet only Qin Yun had amassed massive global fandom; normally, nearly sixty percent of viewers stayed in his livestream, with the remaining forty percent split among everyone else. Put bluntly, Qin Yun alone could sustain this entire Wild Survival show.

This made the production team take even greater notice of Qin Yun, centering their promotional campaign for the first episode entirely around him.

Although Wild Survival was live-streamed, the show still edited weekly episodes for broadcast on TV and streaming platforms.

But on the third day of Week Two, Daniel's personal phone suddenly received a call.

After hanging up, Daniel's face turned grim.

"What happened?" George asked, concerned.

Daniel pulled George to a quiet corner of camp and said, "I just got a call ordering us to increase Qin's difficulty."

George froze, then his expression turned icy. "Which bastard?"

Daniel shook his head. "If we refuse, the livestream might be shut down—we can't afford the damage to the show."

"..."

George looked at him. "You agreed?"

Daniel spread his hands. "Not fully—I accepted only part of it. If Qin reaches the second stage, his key will be dropped near the Rivermouth Red Pine Forest in the northwest."

George knew the detailed geography of Atlin Lake—he instantly understood.

His face darkened further, his voice low.

"That's a high-risk area for brown bears."

"I know," Daniel paced once, then looked at George with a weary gaze. "Can we afford to have the livestream shut down?"

Of course not—George understood perfectly. If this were pre-recorded, they'd ignore it. But this was live—different rules applied.

Moreover, the main livestream platform was TikTok, which was already under constant pressure; finding an excuse to shut them down was trivial.

Daniel continued: "At least, for Qin, it's still an opportunity."

"But it's a brown bear," George gritted his teeth.

Adult male brown bears weighed 300 kg normally, up to 400 kg—such a beast, humans had no chance against it unless they possessed divine truth.

George believed even Qin Yun couldn't win.

"So we can only pray the bears are hibernating—or that some other animal ate the key."

George had no choice but to accept that hope.

Daniel and George returned to the livestream camp, looked at livestream #32, silently apologized, then summoned the crew and gave one order.

Since the directive demanded the key be placed inside a brown bear's stomach, this was effectively a death sentence for Qin—unless he could single-handedly kill a 400 kg monstrous beast.

Qin Yun didn't know any of this. He felt his luck had been good these past three days: no dangers, and abundant gains.

"Hahaha, look what I found!"

Qin Yun's eyes lit up with delight. He brought his action camera close to a birch trunk, where a black, tumor-like growth clung—ugly in appearance, but the expression on his face told viewers this was something valuable.

"This is birch polypore—also called white birch mushroom. Known as 'winter gold' or 'mushroom of life.' It's not eaten raw—it's boiled into tea. Simmer it slowly in snow water for half an hour; the broth turns golden, and one sip is more invigorating than coffee."

Qin Yun carefully cut it off with his dagger and stowed it in his pack.

Inside his pack, wrapped in pine needles, were chunks of bright red meat—lean, tender, nearly fat-free, with no gamey odor: the meat of a moose he'd hunted yesterday.

Moose meat is low-fat, high-protein, and incredibly tender.

Besides these tender moose cuts, there was also a whole intact spruce grouse—still with feathers—placed at the bottom of his pack.

His haul was undeniably rich.

"This season, this is the only mushroom I can find; at this temperature, virtually all fungi can't survive."

Along the way, he casually gathered more spruce buds and bearberries, and of course, salt licks couldn't be missed.

Trace elements were always better in excess; fat and protein were non-negotiable. His nutritional standards were extremely high—unless conditions forbade it, every meal aimed for balanced meat and vegetables, as normal as possible.

Only this way could his body remain healthy day after day.

Without fat, only protein, a person couldn't last long; without protein, only fat—same result.

Vitamins, however, weren't scarce in the forest; with basic botany knowledge, identifying edible plants was simple.

Beyond nutrition, Qin Yun also sought to satisfy his palate—even by civilized society's standards, his meals were unparalleled in flavor.

"It's still about two hours until sunset. Over these past few days, I've covered nearly forty kilometers—my pace is decent. I hope today I can find a warmer spot to build shelter, unlike yesterday."

Last night had been the worst sleep Qin Yun had experienced since entering the wild: he'd built a hammock in a spruce tree, then lit a fire beneath it. But he'd overestimated the rope's strength—he'd fallen asleep, the rope snapped, and he'd tumbled unconscious to the ground.

Luckily, the fall was only two meters; otherwise, he might have broken something.

After walking over an hour, two massive boulders suddenly appeared ahead in the dense forest—each over ten meters long, three to four meters wide, and more than two meters high.

The rocks were cold white streaked with ink green, bare of vegetation except for snow.

Qin Yun approached, circled to one side, and immediately spotted a black opening between the two rocks.

"Look, there's a natural cave, perfectly sandwiched between these two boulders—if no locals are inside, I'll have a very warm night tonight."

He examined it closely: the cave entrance had accumulated snow and fallen dead leaves, some fresh, some old, with no recent tracks in the snow.

But that didn't matter—if a bear had been hibernating inside, its traces would've long been erased by nature.

With the drone at hand, he had no intention of entering himself—he'd let the drone use night vision first.

He tied his action camera to a stick and extended it inward; the drone immediately switched lenses, slowly revealing the cave's interior on its screen.

It was a cave stretching seven to eight meters deep—though only about one meter high, it was surprisingly spacious.

But inside was chaotic: he spotted a frozen, rigid muskrat, and the floor was littered with rotting leaves.

Seeing this, Qin Yun exhaled in relief: "Haha, good luck—this is a natural cave with no residents. I'll clean it up, and tonight it'll be an excellent shelter."

"But it's full of rotting leaves emitting toxic fumes—I can't sleep here without first burning it out thoroughly, or I'll be the next muskrat."

Saying this, Qin Yun set up several devices and began working.

As dusk approached, a roaring fire erupted inside the cave, flames and thick smoke blazing fiercely.

While the fire burned, Qin Yun gathered piles of wood to prepare shelter defenses.

One hour later, at 4: 0 PM, the sun fully set. But where he stood, there were no trees around—above him, the sky was clear. Tonight's stars were unusually vivid, and even the sky's camera seemed to catch faint auroras shimmering on the horizon.

Qin Yun adjusted the camera, pointing one action cam at the stars. The drone's AI periodically shifted the lens to the deep cosmos, blending with Qin's labor—creating an oddly soothing effect.

Soon after, he cleared the shelter's interior, eliminating all lingering odors.

But since the space was enclosed, he couldn't cook inside—he had to do it outside.

Leaning against the cave's entrance, he ate roasted moose tenderloin, each bite impossibly tender, as if it would melt into his tongue.

"Sss... so delicious," Qin Yun murmured, savoring it. "Everyone should try this—even the simplest cooking makes moose tenderloin unforgettable."

Viewers watching his meal all salivated.

Those who could afford it bought some immediately; those who couldn't settled for a burger to satisfy their craving—once full, the hunger faded.

After eating and drinking, Qin Yun filled a stone basin with snow, and soon the snow boiled into water.

He casually sprinkled in fresh spruce buds; within moments, a fragrant aroma filled the air.

"Spruce buds are rich in vitamin C—they prevent scurvy in the wild. If you ever go outdoors, remember this."

As Qin Yun lounged, sipping his hot tea and chatting comfortably,

elsewhere, Michael encountered danger.

He stepped into a hidden hole and plunged down to his chest; extreme cold instantly seeped through his clothes.

Worse, his left foot was pierced by a sharp object beneath the hole—pain and cold struck him instantly, turning his face pale.