Chapter 64: Unexpected Turn

As the camera kept switching angles, Qin Yun was now only about twenty meters from the cliff bottom—roughly seven or eight stories high.

By now, viewers knew an accident was virtually impossible.

"Qin Ye is awesome—climbed down over a hundred meters without any safety gear? Real man."

"Incredible, I'm utterly in awe—Qin Ye is mighty."

"666, I wonder if this kind of man is married? My younger sister wants to introduce herself to him."

"Strength, courage, boldness, looks, physique—Qin Ye excels in every single one. In ancient times, he'd have been a legendary warrior."

Qin Yun ignored the netizens' praise. He calmed his breathing, glanced down, and smiled: "Whew—almost down. But the closer you get, the less you can let your guard down. Twenty meters is still dangerous if you slip."

As he continued descending, having crossed another ten meters or so, Qin Yun suddenly noticed something wrong below.

"Shit, fucked!"

Qin Yun's sudden change in expression startled the livestream viewers.

"What's going on? Why does Qin Ye look panicked?"

"What happened? Is there a problem down there?"

Qin Yun immediately directed the drone downward, and viewers immediately saw a massive inward depression in the cliff face—hundreds of meters wide horizontally, with a depth of over ten meters, before sloping outward again.

That meant if he wanted to go down, he had to climb into this deep inward recess before continuing.

But once he entered it, the difficulty was obvious to anyone—far beyond the original ease of a straight descent.

"We're screwed—Qin Ye can't get down now."

"Shit, this inward section is completely flat—no curvature at all. How's Qin Ye supposed to climb it?"

"Why not just jump? Maybe you won't die if you're lucky."

"You're an idiot—twenty meters up? An adult won't die from that fall."

"Even if you survive the fall, you'll break bones and snap tendons."

Qin Yun studied the cliff face below via the drone, took a deep breath, and said calmly: "At least three hundred meters horizontally before the cliff face returns to normal. If I went straight down, my stamina could handle it—but horizontally, I can't sustain it. So I have only one choice: keep going."

"Qin Ye's going insane—how's he supposed to climb that?"

"Is he going to swing across with just his hands?"

"I can't watch anymore."

Qin Yun didn't show outward tension—he remained calm. But climbing across twenty meters of inward depression was still a massive challenge. Now was the test of his strength and endurance.

Outside the livestream, his family and friends were terrified. Luckily, his mother Hu Fen was at work and hadn't seen this—otherwise, she might've had a heart attack.

Song Ya, watching this scene, felt an especially complex emotion.

Although she'd watched every one of Qin Yun's livestreams these past few days, amazed by his transformation, she didn't want him to succeed too much—yet she didn't want him to die either. Even divorced, even with all her grievances, they'd parted amicably; she couldn't harbor truly malicious thoughts.

Friends like Xia Qingqing, Chu Xin, Fang Nan, Su Ying, and Shen Hu clenched their fists tightly, their heartbeats accelerating involuntarily.

Countless strangers, watching the man on screen, were already captivated by his unique charm.

"Friends, wish me success."

Qin Yun showed the drone's lens a bright, white smile—utterly carefree. The sight moved viewers deeply; countless women felt their hearts tremble at that smile.

Qin Yun adjusted his center of gravity. He didn't choose to climb across this stretch—because the drone showed no footholds in the inward cliff face. He could only grip protruding rock points with his hands and use finger strength to support his body as he crossed sideways.

The next moment, his entire body went airborne, suspended solely by his hands, eye-level with the inward cliff face.

He took a deep breath, pulled hard on the left rock point to confirm it was solid, then released his right hand and reached for a new protrusion on the inward cliff.

After gripping the rock and testing its stability to ensure it could bear his weight, he said: "Every rock point from now on must be tested repeatedly—it'll drain my stamina. But it's necessary. Right now, I only have two support points. If one hand lets go to grab a new point and the other suddenly slips, I'll fall."

"This twenty-meter stretch is an extreme challenge for me."

"Qin Ye's grip is insane."

"Qin Ye's a real man—a iron-blooded hero. I can't even hold onto a pull-up bar for long."

"Ninety-nine percent of men couldn't do this. This is true Chinese strength."

Qin Yun gripped the rock with his right hand, then released his left. His body dropped sharply, and at the same time, he thrust his right hand outward, locking onto a pre-confirmed rock point.

In the drone's view, Qin Yun was now fully inside the inward zone—muscles bulging with veins on both hands, his entire body suspended solely by arm strength, overwhelming the livestream viewers' eyes.

At this point, he dared not speak.

The comment flood slowed dramatically; only new viewers entering the livestream still commented.

Qin Yun had to ensure every rock point was secure, so each move from old to new point was short—otherwise, he couldn't test it. This was safer, but it greatly extended the climbing time.

The twenty-plus meters took nearly thirty minutes to cross before nearing the end.

Viewers were flushed with tension—let alone Qin Yun himself.

For the first time, he felt his physical limits. His hands, arms, and fingers were all fatigued and aching—he knew this meant he was about to collapse.

Even on camera, his arm muscles visibly trembled and twitched—a sight clearly transmitted to the livestream.

"Shit, the streamer looks like he's about to give out. If he falls from this height… damn, hard to imagine."

"Where is this? What kind of idiot streamer is this? Performing suicide for show?"

"Sigh—if he falls, we taxpayers will have to pay for the rescue."

"You're a dead horse? Spewing shit everywhere, you idiot."

"Have some decency. Speak with some conscience. What the hell."

"If you don't like it, leave."

"I'll keep cursing—fuck you, I hope this idiot streamer falls and gets crushed into pulp."

"Trash streamer—I'm reporting him."

There were true fans—and there were haters who couldn't stand others succeeding.

The livestream comments were now filled with all kinds of voices. With no moderation, Qin Yun had no time to read them—and soon, a full-blown war of insults erupted.

Liu Wei, noticing this, frowned after watching for a while, then used his authority to ban all those barking fools.

There's no way around it—any live stream is like this; it's impossible to please everyone, someone will always find a reason to criticize you, which is nothing unusual, given how many Chinese people there are and how diverse they are.

Qin Yun grabbed a protrusion with his left hand, his gaze already locked onto the four grip points on the finish wall.

He pulled, confirmed it was secure, then seized another point with his right hand, swinging his whole body forward and back, directly launching himself over two meters.

'Snap—!'

In the live stream, everyone saw Qin Yun pull off a flashy move—swinging himself like a swing and catching onto the cliff wall—but the next second—

'Crash—!'

His left foot slipped free, and his whole body plunged sharply downward.

'Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me.'

'Master Qin is awesome.'

'Master Qin is mighty.'

'Holy crap, he made it! Master Qin is incredible—he actually crawled across that!'

'But why is Master Qin's face so pale?'

'Obviously, he's at his physical limit. Thirty minutes later? Holy crap, I can't even believe how exhausted Master Qin must be in bed.'

'Damn it, we're being serious—why are you making dumb jokes?'

The drone flew to his face; Qin Yun pushed himself up, stabilized again, then looked into the lens.

His face was extremely pale, his breathing rapid and shallow, his body completely soaked. Yet his eyes held a sense of relief.

'Thank heaven and earth, thank you all in the live stream for your encouragement—I've made it through this stretch as promised. The next ten meters won't be a problem. Let's talk more once we're down below.'

Qin Yun desperately needed rest. After speaking, he immediately focused again and rapidly descended.

Ten meters would be easy for him in normal condition. But now, after expending enormous strength and energy, every step Qin Yun took was excruciatingly careful—his margin for error was now near zero; he had no reserve of spirit or vitality left to recover from mistakes.

When only two meters remained, he released both hands and jumped straight down, landing with bent knees and a forward lean, rolling once, then standing steady.

He brushed off the dirt and fallen leaves, turned to face the lens, and opened his arms: 'Thank you!'

'So cool.'

'Holy crap, I'm gonna have a baby for this streamer.'

'Master Qin is awesome.'

At this moment, those watching Qin Yun's stream weren't just ordinary viewers—some Douyin streamers were secretly watching too, like Xu Xu Baobao, Lan Zhanfei, Chen He—

When they saw Qin Yun land successfully, each of them collapsed in their chairs as if drained of all strength.

'Bo Lang Ge sent 100 Carnival gifts—Master Qin, from now on I'm your fan.'

'Feng Liu Jie sent 100 Carnival gifts—Master Qin, let's meet offline sometime.'

'Xu Xu Baobao sent 10 Carnival gifts—Master Qin is awesome.'

'Chen He sent 10 Carnival gifts—Master Qin is incredible, I'm utterly impressed—I watched the whole thing on my knees.'

'Kun Kun sent—'

The moment Qin Yun said 'thank you,' Carnival gifts flooded the live stream like they were free, colorful tags popping up everywhere, maximizing the performance's monetization.

At this moment, not only was Qin Yun happy, but Liu Wei was beaming with joy.

Although a top streamer can generate substantial revenue, the official platform doesn't really care about that. What they care about more is building brand awareness—that's why they push streamers upward; behind every top streamer stands the platform's support.

The more top streamers there are, the greater the platform's market advantage.

Money? The platform doesn't care about these petty sums!

'Thank you all for the gifts—I can't even thank you all enough.' Qin Yun suppressed his excitement; his strength was slowly returning. His viewer count had now reached an absurd level—he knew with certainty that Douyin's official team was pushing him behind the scenes. 'New viewers, please hit follow—I'm Qin Yun, currently a temporary wilderness outdoor beginner streamer…'

'666—if this is a beginner, then the bar for beginners is way too high.'

'Master Qin's stream just blew up—I checked, his followers have already surpassed three million.'

With this level of popularity, his viewer count will likely reach five million before the stream ends—amazing.

'Some people are just born for this line of work.'

After finishing his narration, Qin Yun turned the lens toward the forest ahead: 'Now I just need to keep moving forward—once I get out of this forest, I'll surely find people.'