Chapter 186: A New Week

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

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

The production crew members, upon seeing him, were even more excited than he was, enthusiastically greeting him.

The doctor conducting his exam was still the same woman; she took advantage of her position to feel him up, thoroughly thrilled. Qin Yun watched, utterly speechless.

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

Yet Qin Yun showed absolutely no abnormalities, as if he'd been on vacation.

Even these crew members, standing here for just a moment, felt a chill seep into their bones.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it, it's my job," Linda said. She had a crew member activate Qin's qualification for next week right in front of him, then handed 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 took the map but didn't check it immediately; he casually stuffed it into his chest.

The medical team and crew didn't linger long. Once everything was settled, they boarded the helicopter and left again.

Once the helicopter vanished from sight, Qin 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—that'd make movement much 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; nearly the entire map was covered in forest. The new PEP point lay far from Atlin Lake, with the straight-line distance clearly marked: 85 KM.

"Looks like this week will be tough."

Walking 85 KM through the forest isn't about the difficulties 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 go too far too soon: the 85 KM route contained seven distinct landmarks, meaning the distance was artificially divided into eight segments.

At this moment, viewers in every livestream also saw the maps displayed for each contestant.

The difficulty had increased across the board.

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

After one week, nearly every contestant had gained their own fanbase, forming a clear divide—supporters matched the contestants' nationalities.

Yet only Qin Yun had amassed a massive global fanbase; in ordinary hours, nearly sixty percent of viewers stayed in his livestream, while the remaining forty percent were split among all others. 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 and released one episode per week, broadcasting it on TV and streaming platforms.

But on the third day of Week Two, Daniel's private 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 the camp and said, frowning, "I just got a call telling us to increase Qin's difficulty."

George froze, then his face 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 only accepted part of it: if Qin reaches the second stage, his key will be dropped near He Kou's Red Pine Forest in the northwest."

George, familiar with the detailed geography of Atlin Lake, 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 hollow gaze. "Can we afford the consequences of a livestream shutdown?"

Of course not—George understood perfectly. If this were pre-recorded, they wouldn't care. But this was live—everything was different.

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

Daniel continued: "At least, for Qin, this is still an opportunity."

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

Adult male brown bears weighed an average of 300 kg, some nearing 400 kg. Against such a beast, humans had no chance unless they possessed 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, stared at livestream #32, muttered an apology, 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 knew nothing of this. He felt his luck had been good these past three days: no dangers encountered, and he'd gathered plenty.

"Hahaha, look what I found!"

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

"This is birch polypore—also called white birch mushroom. Known as 'Winter's Golden Fungus' or 'Mushroom of Life.' Of course, you don't eat it raw—you boil it in water as tea. Simmer it slowly with snow water for half an hour, and the broth turns golden. One sip is more energizing than coffee."

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

Inside his pack, wrapped in pine needles, were chunks of bright red meat—all lean, tender, nearly fat-free, and free of any gamey odor: the meat of a moose he'd hunted yesterday.

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

Alongside the moose meat lay a whole, unskinned spruce grouse—a type of ptarmigan—resting 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, and fats and proteins were non-negotiable—he demanded extreme nutritional balance. Unless conditions made it impossible, every meal was carefully balanced between meat and vegetables, just like a normal diet.

Only in this way, day after day, can his body maintain long-term health.

Otherwise, if one has only protein without fat, a person cannot last long; if one has only fat without protein, the same logic applies.

On the contrary, various vitamins are actually not scarce in the forest; as long as one understands basic botany, identifying edible vegetation is quite simple.

And Qin Yun, besides nutrition, also seeks to satisfy his palate; even by the standards of civilized society, every meal he prepares can be called unparalleled in flavor.

"There are about two hours left until sunset. Over these past few days, I've advanced nearly forty kilometers—my pace is acceptable. I hope today I can find a warmer place to build a shelter, and not end up like yesterday."

Last night was the worst sleep Qin Yun had ever had since beginning his wilderness survival; he built a hammock on a spruce tree and lit a fire around its base. But he overestimated the rope's tensile strength—while asleep, the rope snapped, and he fell unconscious to the ground.

If the height hadn't been just two meters, he might have broken something.

After walking over an hour, two massive rocks suddenly appeared ahead in the dense forest. Each rock was over ten meters long, three to four meters wide, and more than two meters high.

The rocks were cold white mixed with ink green, with nothing but snow covering their surfaces—no vegetation at all.

Qin Yun walked closer, circled to one side, and immediately spotted a black hole nestled between the two rocks.

"Look here—there's a natural stone cave, perfectly squeezed between these two giant rocks. If there are no local inhabitants inside, I'll have a very warm night tonight."

He carefully inspected it: the cave entrance had snow and fallen dead leaves and wood; the leaves were a mix of new and old, and the snow showed no traces.

But that meant little—if a bear were inside, hibernating for a long time, its tracks would quickly vanish under nature's erasure.

With a drone in hand, he had no intention of entering himself—he'd first use its night-vision camera to observe.

He tied a motion camera to a stick and extended it inward; the drone immediately switched lenses, and the cave's interior slowly appeared on its display.

It was clearly a cave stretching seven or eight meters deep; though its ceiling was low—only about one meter—it was remarkably spacious.

But inside was chaotic, even containing a frozen, rigid muskrat, and littered everywhere with rotting leaves.

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

"But it's full of rotting leaves emitting toxic fumes. If I'm to sleep here, I must first burn it fiercely—otherwise, I'll be the next muskrat."

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

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

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

One hour later, at 16:40, the sun fully set. But where he stood, there were no trees around—above him, the sky was clear. Tonight's stars were exceptionally vivid; even in the camera's frame, the horizon shimmered as if with auroras.

Qin Yun adjusted the lens, pointing a motion camera at the stars. The drone's AI periodically switched the view to the deep cosmos, blending with Qin Yun's labor, creating an especially soothing sensation.

Not long after, he cleared out the shelter's interior, eliminating all unpleasant odors completely.

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

When he leaned against the shelter's edge, eating roasted moose tenderloin, each bite was so tender it seemed ready to swallow his tongue.

"Sss… so delicious," Qin Yun murmured, savoring the tenderloin. "If you ever get the chance, try it—even the simplest cooking method makes moose tenderloin astonishingly delicious."

Watching him eat so greedily, viewers salivated.

Those who could afford it bought directly; those who couldn't settled for a burger to satisfy their craving—after all, once full, the craving fades.

After eating and drinking his fill, Qin Yun filled a stone trough with snow, and soon the snow turned to boiling water.

He casually scattered young spruce buds into it, and soon a fragrant aroma filled the air.

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

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

on the other side, Michael encountered danger.

He accidentally stepped into a void and sank down to his chest; extreme cold instantly seeped through his clothes.

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