Chapter 59

"I'm not going around—it's impossible—so I'm jumping over."

As soon as these words were spoken, the entire livestream went silent, comments instantly halted—but the next moment, the comment section exploded.

"Holy shit, streamer, don't be suicidal—I still want to watch your stream!"

"Even the world record holder couldn't jump this far—you've lost your mind."

"It's over, the stream's ending."

"Scary—streamer probably ate termites and got his brain eaten by them."

"This isn't two or three meters—it's eight meters! In this environment, nobody can jump this far."

Qin Yun saw the comments and smiled: "Friends, it's not as dangerous as you think—worst case, I fall into the river. Don't worry, I haven't planned to end the stream this soon."

"Besides, this distance is nothing to me."

Watching Qin Yun radiating confidence on the livestream, netizens stared dumbfounded.

Qin Yun didn't waste time; the drone’s auxiliary unit hovered above, while the main unit focused on him.

"Breakwave Brother gifts the streamer three Carnivals—if Brother Qin succeeds, I’ll send thirty Carnival gifts."

"Oh? Just arrived and there’s already a show? I’ll send a few too."

Soon, several more Carnival gifts flooded the screen. Qin Yun glanced at the givers and thanked them: "Thank you, Breakwave Brother, and Flowery Sister, for the Carnival gifts."

At this moment, Breakwave Brother still held top spot on the leaderboard, but Flowery Sister, who had just gifted, shot straight to second place.

Qin Yun finished speaking, took a deep breath, stepped back a few paces—and just as he prepared to sprint, a thunderous roar erupted.

"Roar—!"

The roar crushed like a million-pound boulder, its deep vibration spreading through the air, making branches tremble violently.

It pierced through the forest, whipping up a storm of wind that struck fear into anyone who heard it.

"Holy shit... what the hell was that?"

"Tiger—holy crap—is it a Northeast Tiger?"

"Streamer, run! You might survive a bear, but a Northeast Tiger? You’re dead."

"What bad luck—first a black bear, now a tiger."

Sweat beaded on Qin Yun’s forehead. Holy shit—it really was a Northeast Tiger. From his zoology knowledge, just the sound told him exactly what it was. But the roar’s distance was still far—roughly two kilometers away.

"Gulp—!"

He swallowed hard, his tension obvious.

Guys, wild Northeast Tigers in China are supposed to be extinct, but based on what I know, this roar is definitely from a Northeast Tiger. Good thing it’s still some distance away—I’m safe for now. But Northeast Tigers have incredibly sharp senses—they can detect the scent of prey or other tigers up to five kilometers away. So don’t doubt it: my scent has already been picked up.

"But since human scent is unusual, unless this tiger is starving, it won’t come looking for me."

Qin Yun’s self-reassurance didn’t calm the livestream viewers.

"Streamer, if you’ve got time to lecture, just jump already!"

"Can’t jump? Then just dive in—it’s ten meters, won’t kill you."

"For a human, jumping eight meters across a ravine is borderline impossible—but for a Northeast Tiger, it’s just a normal starting leap."

Qin Yun still didn’t move. He continued:

"If you encounter a Northeast Tiger in the wild, stay completely still immediately. Avoid eye contact. Never turn and run. Their vision is hyper-sensitive to movement—if you run, you trigger their hunting instinct. Human speed is a joke compared to an adult Northeast Tiger."

"After stabilizing your body, retreat slowly, step lightly—but never turn your back. If you have anything in hand—like a hiking pole—don’t wave it. Provoking it is your death sentence."

"If you’re lucky and this tiger isn’t hungry, you might slowly inch out of its line of sight and survive. But most likely, you’ll still die peacefully."

Hearing this, netizens fell silent.

"If you’re gonna die anyway, why not die with dignity? I’d roar back at him."

"I heard raising your arms to look bigger makes tigers hungrier."

"Roar—!"

Qin Yun’s face changed: "Guys, the sound’s closer—I’ve got to move."

Without hesitation, he sprinted, covering about ten meters. His speed was explosive; as he neared the cliff’s edge, his left foot slammed into the ground, launching his entire body into the air with tremendous force.

The drone’s camera faithfully captured the moment—everyone held their breath.

Qin Yun’s confidence came from his rock climbing and combat skills.

In Chinese martial arts, the north has a leg technique called Tan Tui—springing legs—which is the core of lightness techniques, emphasizing “legs like a bow, release like thunder.” Mastered, it allows one to leap several zhang from flat ground.

Another martial art, called Zongyue Shu—also known as “Leaping from Dry Land” or “Swallow Skimming Water”—is another lightness technique. It focuses all bodily power into a single instant, producing extreme explosive force.

Fortunately, Qin Yun’s Master-level combat skills included both.

Combined, leaping eight meters was child’s play. He hadn’t gone all out—but he had the confidence.

With instantaneous explosive power, Qin Yun flew across the chasm in an instant, executed a perfect forward roll, and stood up gracefully.

"66666"

"Streamer is insane."

"Holy crap, Brother Qin wasn’t joking—he actually trained!"

"Incredible physique—this guy could compete in the Olympics."

"True masters come from the people—it’s not just talk. With this leap, Brother Qin could break the world record effortlessly."

"Shuangzi Brother gifts the streamer one Carnival—Holy shit, I screamed in my office!"

"Heyho Heyho gifts the streamer five Carnival gifts—Brother Qin is awesome."

"Yalasuo gifts the streamer one heart—Amazing."

"Breakwave Brother gifts the streamer twenty Carnival gifts—Brother Qin is mighty, I’m impressed."

"Flowery Sister gifts the streamer thirty Carnival gifts—Brother, you’re insane! I thought you were joking!"

Qin Yun looked at the flood of gifts, heart pounding, grabbed his backpack without even thanking anyone, retracted the main drone, kept the auxiliary drone hovering above, and started running.

"Guys, I need to speed up—if this Northeast Tiger follows, I’m done. But since the auxiliary drone’s still up, maybe you’ll catch it if I’m lucky."

"I’m decent in a fight, but against a beast this massive? One swipe and I’m gone. Plus, Northeast Tigers are a national first-class protected species—even if I could kill it, I wouldn’t dare."

Not long after Qin Yun vanished into the forest, a massive tiger with bright eyes and white forehead slowly leapt out from the trees on the spot he’d just left. Its body was huge—over two meters long, at least four or five hundred jin.

Netizens watching via the drone gasped in shock.

"Holy shit—it really is a Northeast Tiger! This proves the Daxinganling population hasn’t gone extinct—such clear footage!"

"So Wu Song killed one of these? I find that hard to believe."

"Forget Wu Song—even a god of martial arts wouldn’t stand a chance. This is Earth’s top predator. Humans have no truth here—only numbers can take it down."

"Thank god the streamer ran fast—if this tiger locked onto him, he’d be dead."

"Do you think this tiger was chasing Brother Qin?"

"It’s leaving—it’s leaving! Brother Qin’s luck exploded—the Northeast Tiger’s retreating."

Qin Yun watched the main drone’s screen, exhaled in relief, and slowed his pace. If this tiger jumped across the river after him, he’d be truly in danger.

He wasn’t without fighting ability—but the size and strength gap was too great. With a long blade, he might stand a chance. But with just his stone knife and bow? It wouldn’t even scratch.

The outcome would be the same either way.

He was a Master-level combatant, not a Master-level cultivator.

He retracted the auxiliary drone and kept moving forward.

…

Around four in the afternoon, Qin Yun’s backpack gained a mountain pheasant—basically, a wild chicken.

Good luck—he found another stream, even larger than the first one he’d discovered.

But the stream was still small, with no fish—though he found four or five small crabs, a pleasant surprise.

After wandering around, he returned to a large boulder near the stream and began setting up his night camp.

"Lucky day—I’ve got water, so I don’t have to worry about cleanliness. Plus, some crabs—I’ll make a wild chicken and crab mountain delicacy soup. No salt? Doesn’t matter—the natural flavor’s enough."

"Brother Qin’s luck’s turned."

"666, again watching Brother Qin set up camp—this time backed by a giant rock, he can build something sturdy."

Seeing the comments, Qin Yun smiled: "Since we’re near the stream, animals will come by. I need to be careful. This boulder is a natural barrier—look at the crack—it just fits me. Inside, there’s a hollow space. I can use it as a base, add simple structures, and make it completely sealed. Even if a predator comes, I won’t be afraid."

As Qin Yun worked, Su Huan in Hangzhou struggled to focus on work all day, constantly slacking off—leaving her subordinates puzzled.

But since Su Huan was the boss, no one dared ask.

Since Qin Yun started streaming, Su Huan’s phone had never been turned off. She occasionally sent small gifts to boost viewership. Over these days, she’d witnessed Qin Yun’s survival skills, his calmness facing wild beasts, his casual acceptance of eating insects—his ability to adapt naturally in the wild deeply impressed her.

This livestream was utterly different from his rock-climbing one—it had irrevocably branded Qin Yun’s account as an outdoor persona.

In just a few days, his followers had surpassed five hundred thousand—and were still skyrocketing daily.

DJI was extremely pleased with the livestream’s results. Had the sponsorship deal not already been locked in, they’d have offered to raise the price.

Today, they directly told Su Huan: future outdoor livestreams like this? DJI would fully sponsor them—no need to look elsewhere.

Undoubtedly, in Su Huan’s eyes, Qin Yun had carved out his self-media path. If he maintained this, becoming a top internet celebrity was just a matter of time.

But compared to the borderline, chatting, or gaming streams, Su Huan felt Qin Yun’s path was genuinely dangerous—something ordinary people simply couldn’t do.

His survival skills, the way he casually spouted knowledge—it wasn’t something just anyone could pull off.

"Alright, camp’s set up. Now I’ll light a fire by the stream and cook up a pot of wild chicken and crab mountain delicacy soup."

Qin Yun finished speaking, grabbed the pheasant by its wings, walked to the stream, and began slaughtering, plucking, and cleaning it. Soon, the chicken was spotless.

Since the stream was flowing water, most odors were washed away—but not entirely.

"To me, it’s fishy. To some animals, it’s perfume. So I need to light the fire fast—once it’s burning, as long as it’s not a giant predator, I won’t be afraid."