Chapter 63: The Rock Climbing God Is Online

In the end, Qin Yun only caught a few willow root fish, each about the length of a middle finger—a small cold-water species that lives at the bottom of rivers, best fried in oil.

But he had no oil, so after cleaning their innards, he tossed them into the water to simmer, added some forest seasonings and a few hazelnuts, and soon had a simple, unadorned fish soup.

After drinking his fill and drying his clothes and backpack, the sky grew dark.

After chatting with his online followers for a while, Qin Yun ended the stream, checked today’s earnings, and found he still had over eighty thousand after the platform’s cut—the highest of the past few days.

Indeed, twists and dangers stimulate fans to tip; plain, uneventful streams barely draw any gifts.

After carefully calculating his four-day streaming income, he’d already netted two hundred and forty thousand—far exceeding the sponsorship fee. But the sponsorship was extra income anyway; even without it, he’d still have done this stream.

This checkpoint task is the longest-duration one released so far; he didn’t know what reward it would bring.

As Qin Yun thought about it, he drifted unconsciously into sleep.

But he woke several times in the middle of the night—either startled by creatures in the water or by noises from the forest. Though no danger arose, waking four times in one night meant terrible sleep quality.

The next morning, he packed his things, kicked the ash into the river, cleaned everything up, and started streaming on time.

“Hello everyone, I’m Qin Yun…”

After his usual opening, as the number of viewers increased, he launched the secondary drone and flew it directly along the river.

“Let’s see what’s ahead—could it be a waterfall, as I suspected?”

Under Qin Yun’s control, the drone skimmed the water’s surface one moment and soared high the next; the forest and river unfolded in magnificent, beautiful scenery unseen in the city—viewers felt like watching a documentary.

Then, as the drone picked up a deep “boom—boom—” sound of falling water, a white ribbon suddenly appeared ahead, plunging straight down and slapping the river below, spraying waves.

“Holy shit, it really is a waterfall! Judging by the drone’s flight time, it’s about two kilometers away—thank god the host got ashore yesterday, or he’d have died.”

“Qin Ye’s minor luck’s bad, but his major luck’s great—he narrowly escaped death.”

“So majestic! Who’d have thought there’s a waterfall deep in Daxinganling?”

“Beautiful—I’d love to go with Qin Ye.”

“Qin Ye strolls around solo like a boss; if you tagged along, you’d be half-dead.”

Watching the drone’s screen, Qin Yun retracted the secondary drone, deployed the main one, and flew it above the river, locking the camera on his angle. Then he walked along the riverbank toward the waterfall.

The two-kilometer stretch took Qin Yun nearly an hour to cover.

Most of the riverbank was impassable, forcing him to detour.

Soon, his eyes and ears both confirmed the waterfall’s presence. He sent the main drone forward, pulling farther and farther away until he himself looked like a tiny ant.

Qin Yun spoke through the mic: “This waterfall’s no small thing—the cliff’s height is unexpectedly sheer. From my experience, it’s at least a hundred and twenty meters—seriously high.”

“The river below is still water, but jumping from this height is no different than hitting stone—thank god I got ashore early yesterday, or I’d be dead.”

Qin Yun studied the scene, thought long and hard, but couldn’t devise a practical way down.

Facing the drone, Qin Yun helplessly shrugged: “You’ve all seen the drone footage—if I go down, I either jump straight or detour. But detouring means I won’t get out today. Also, from the drone’s distant view, I can barely make out the terrain ahead.”

“Today is my fifth day of streaming, but in terms of time, I’ve already been in Daxinganling for five days—I must leave this area today.”

“So how are you going down, make a rope?”

“Qin Ye, I advise you to detour—unless you plan to fly down.”

Meanwhile, in Hangzhou, Su Huan had already guessed Qin Yun’s plan—her heart lurched, and her pulse spiked.

Qin Yun walked along one side of the cliff to the left, chatting with viewers as he went.

“Don’t worry—I won’t detour, but I won’t blindly jump off the cliff either. As for how I’ll get down, interested viewers can check my first video.”

At this, some viewers froze, then erupted in excitement.

“Oh my god, is the host going to climb down?”

“Qin Ye, don’t be crazy—you’ve got no gear, this is way too dangerous.”

“Don’t be reckless, play it safe.”

“Otto sent the host a sports car—after watching your climbing video, I believe you can do it.”

“Admiral of the Navy sent the host a red heart—go for it.”

Qin Yun looked up at the overhanging cliff, seemingly endless; though the terrain sloped gently downward and he could surely climb around to the other side, it would waste too much time.

Besides, since today was his final streaming day, not pulling off something spectacular would insult all the fans who’d sent him gifts.

But even if he climbed, he had to pick a safer spot—too close to the waterfall was out of the question; the humidity was too high, and he had no gear—this wouldn’t be adventure, it’d be suicide.

After walking several hundred meters, he touched the rock layer beneath his feet and said to the drone: “Climbing mountains is always easier going up than down—climbing cliffs even more so. I’ve got no proper tools, so I need a rock face I can trust—preferably one with a slight slope, since I just want to descend, not compete.”

Qin Yun kept walking, another hundred meters, then peered down at the cliff face—only forest filled his view, but from this angle, the cliff’s incline was clearly visible.

“Look here—this is perfect. The rocks jut out, plenty of footholds. It might still be dangerous for you, but for me, it’s like walking on flat ground.”

“Qin Ye’s cup isn’t even round.”

“Qin Ye is arrogant—but he’s got the guts to be.”

“You’re awesome, you call the shots.”

Qin Yun judged the distance from cliff to base, carefully checked the rock condition, confirmed it was safe enough to risk—then rubbed his hands, took a deep breath, and without hesitation, grabbed a rock ledge and lowered his feet.

“Holy shit, the host’s serious—I thought he was joking.”

“Bro, I’m scared, I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“Qin Ye says he’s all about the adrenaline, haha.”

“Polong sent the host ten carnivals—witnessing a miracle.”

“FlirtLady sent the host ten carnivals—Qin Ye is awesome.”

“Too intense—I just wet my pants. Oh, I peed. Never mind.”

With the boost from a few carnivals, gifts flooded the stream—hundreds of thousands of red hearts appeared. Though each red heart only cost one diamond, their sheer number soon equaled a carnival’s value.

That’s the power of numbers.

Qin Yun kept the main drone beside him for interaction, the secondary drone behind capturing his full view, and turned on his action camera.

He wasn’t joking—this cliff face was genuinely easy for him; after free-climbing the Fanzi Cliff and Dongya Wall without gear or protection, this kind of obtuse-angle climbing presented no challenge.

In moments, he’d descended ten meters.

But only he knew how easy it was; viewers saw only the steep angle in the camera and felt their legs go weak just watching.

Not to mention actually doing it.

To heighten the atmosphere, he even sent the drone far away, capturing the entire cliff in full view.

Waterfall, forest, cliff, climber!

This scene was undeniably breathtaking.

Qin Yun moved like a tiny ant, inching along the cliff face, challenging the height of life.

“Qin Ye is insane—calm as a dog.”

“If it were me, just standing at the cliff’s edge would make me want to jump.”

“Huh… actually, I feel that too.”

Qin Yun had now reached the midpoint—neither up nor down, no turning back. But his physique remained strong; this level of exertion was nothing.

Had he wanted better streaming effects, he could’ve descended faster—or even rappelled directly, if the rocks were sturdy enough.

But viewers didn’t know that.

They watched, hearts pounding, breath held, listening to his breathing—unconsciously holding their own breaths tighter.

Qin Yun stabilized his left foot, extended his right foot downward—when suddenly, the rock he gripped with his left hand cracked with a “crack!”—his left hand lost its hold, and his whole body tilted backward.

But at a certain angle, he stopped—his rock-solid right hand held his center of gravity firmly in place.

But this moment terrified the viewers.

“Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Too close—my heart’s about to stop!”

“If it were me, I’d have fallen already.”

“Be careful! You’re halfway—success is within reach!”

Qin Yun feigned a near-death experience, took a deep breath, and looked at the nearby drone: “When you climb, always remember: your body must have four contact points with the cliff. Otherwise, like just now—if my left hand lost grip, my right hand and both feet kept my center stable, the triangle structure kept me from falling.”

“Also, fear’s useless at this point—just hold onto one thought. The rest? Leave it to fate.”

“Too fucking cool, the dude’s a legend.”

“You’re way too calm—your mental strength is insane.”

“Awesome.”

Watching the rolling comments and endless gifts, Qin Yun smiled and kept climbing—meanwhile, the stream’s viewer count had surpassed twenty thousand, reaching over twenty-five thousand and still rising.

And it was only just past nine in the morning.

At Douyin headquarters, Liu Wei stared at the screen, heart racing—he believed Qin Yun could survive to the end and win any wilderness survival contest.

If the champion came from within China, it’d be a huge achievement for him.

“Give him traffic!”

The staff beside him blinked, startled.

“Chief Liu, you mean…?”

Liu Wei nodded: “Push him into the biggest traffic pool—see how far it goes.”

The staff was stunned. Official traffic boosts weren’t rare—they often did this when promoting influencers.

But Qin Yun’s viewer count was already excellent—no need to boost further.

Yet with official intervention, the viewer count surged dramatically.

Thirty thousand… forty thousand… fifty thousand… His follower count skyrocketed too. Unaware, Qin Yun had quietly reached a million followers during his climb.

Netizens across the platform froze their swipes, staring in awe at the man on screen.

Office workers, laborers, students, shop staff—all encountered Qin Yun’s stream; even if only half stayed, the number was unimaginable.

This is the effect of official recommendation.

As for not reaching one hundred thousand, it’s due to the timing—many people have just started work at this hour.

As Qin Yun continued climbing and time passed, sweat kept pouring down his body, but he paid no attention to the current number in the livestream; only when he stabilized his posture and planned to rest for a moment and chat a little did he notice the number in the upper-right corner of the livestream had become 100,000+.

“Holy shit, did TikTok glitch? How did it go over one hundred thousand?”

Seeing Qin Yun’s terrified expression, netizens burst into laughter.

“Hahaha, I love seeing Master Qin look like he’s never seen the world before.”

“Streamer awesome, streamer keep going.”

“Master Qin got official recommendation.”

“One hundred thousand reached—Master Qin is about to become a top streamer.”

“If Master Qin becomes a top streamer and makes big money, I’m not jealous—it’s all earned with his life on the line.”

“Yeah, this money belongs to Master Qin.”

Qin Yun looked at the comment section and roughly guessed what had happened.

He smiled and thanked everyone, gave a brief self-introduction, then continued downward.

“About forty meters left to the cliff base—let’s push through in one go!”