Chapter 94

"I was scared to death—I thought my heart stopped just then."

"Qin Ye's reflexes are divine! Han mei nv just saved her life."

"Oh no, Han mei nv's look at Qin Ye is different now."

"Qin Ye is so hot—he reacted in time even like that, absolutely divine."

"So close—so close, the beauty almost didn't make it."

"Damn, it's only just started and it's already this intense."

The live stream comments scrolled too fast for Qin Yun to read; his focus couldn't afford any distraction—even speaking to the camera occasionally was already his limit.

He looked upward, and after the massive black rock fell, amidst the rustling, he seemed to hear even more sounds.

"Don't move."

Qin Yun suddenly reached out and wrapped his arm around Han Wei's waist again, moving swiftly.

At the same time, a voice echoed through the live stream.

"After that large black rock fell, it triggered other rocks—I must leave this section quickly, or there will be danger."

As he spoke, more falling rocks suddenly appeared—small ones the size of fists, large ones like millstones—continuously sliding down the cliff face. The drone's lens was locked tightly onto the cliff, transmitting every moment to the live stream.

Fang Yi's car had long arrived at the company garage, but she never got out—her heart clenched tight, pounding like a drum, terrified beyond words.

Qin Yun's steps were ghostlike, weaving nimbly between falling and loose rocks, now dodging left, now right, holding Han Wei as he repeatedly saved her from near-certain death.

His movements were fluid and natural, with not a single wasted motion; every dodge was pinpoint-precise, as if he could foresee the trajectory of falling rocks.

Han Wei was held close to him, feeling his steady, powerful heartbeat and broad chest—and her earlier panic somehow miraculously settled.

She had seen outstanding men in her life before, but this was the first time she felt overwhelming safety from a man.

Minutes later, the two finally burst out of the ice avalanche fan zone, reaching the starting point at the base of the north cliff. He released Han Wei and turned back—the ice avalanche fan behind them still shed loose stones, but the noise was gradually fading.

After watching quietly for a while, waiting until the ice avalanche fan calmed, Qin Yun finally turned his gaze forward.

A nearly vertical, steep cliff loomed ahead, ice and rock interwoven, as if sneering.

"You okay?" He looked at Han Wei.

Han Wei shook her head, her face still pale: "I'm fine. Thank you."

"Qin Ye is insane—carrying someone and still moving so easily."

"This stamina… this strength… unbelievable."

"So insane—I think Qin Ye could crush me with one hand."

"Han mei nv's eyes are glued to Qin Ye—oh no, she's fallen."

Qin Yun didn't reply to the comments. He guided the drone upward slightly, pointing at a steep snow slope ahead: "Next is a mixed section of loose rock and glacier, altitude 4200 to 5100 meters. Camp C1 is just ahead."

The drone slowly ascended and pulled back, fully revealing the entire route to the live stream.

Many viewers quickly spotted over a dozen figures appearing in the frame.

They were members of the Peak Climbers Alliance and the Storm Dengshan Team—they had already advanced over a hundred meters.

Qin Yun sensed his body's changes and realized the Sherpa adaptation ability was truly divine—after such intense movement, he felt absolutely no abnormality.

It was almost ridiculous.

He was almost certain his current blood oxygen saturation was above 98%, and his blood pressure was normal.

For emergencies, he still brought three oxygen bottles.

These weren't ordinary oxygen bottles—they were high-pressure oxygen, usable continuously for three to four hours.

Many think altitude sickness just means taking a couple breaths when you feel short of breath, but oxygen intake must be continuous—taking a couple breaths does nothing.

The body needs time to adapt.

"This section is riddled with glacier crevasses—visible and hidden ones intertwined. Some are covered by thin snow, invisible to the naked eye. One misstep and you could plunge straight into the abyss."

After speaking, Qin Yun pulled out ropes and quickly tied knots, securing himself and Han Wei together with a safety line, keeping a distance of about five meters.

Looking at Han Wei's pale face, Qin Yun asked softly: "How are you feeling? Any discomfort?"

Han Wei bit her lip and firmly shook her head: "No, I'm in good condition."

Qin Yun studied her, as if trying to read something in her eyes—but Han Wei met his gaze stubbornly, showing no hint of guilt or weakness.

"Good." Qin Yun nodded. "Stay like this. I'll lead ahead—follow my footsteps exactly. One step wrong, and you're dead. Understood?"

"Understood!" Han Wei nodded hard. She was already feeling slight pain, but it wasn't serious.

Qin Yun said no more. He gripped his ice axe and stepped onto the steep snow slope. The axe plunged deep into the ice and snow, anchoring his body; his climbing boots ascended steadily, step by step.

Han Wei followed behind him, step for step.

Over a hundred meters ahead, a team member nudged Yang Jia beside him.

"Captain, look at them."

Yang Jia turned back and raised an eyebrow, thinking: Good advice won't save a fool bent on death.

"Ignore them. Keep going."

The Storm Dengshan Team saw Qin Yun and Han Wei. The Peak Climbers Alliance saw them too.

But out here, everyone was an adult. Though thoughts varied, a glance was enough—none paid them further attention.

Qin Yun occasionally looked up at them. A hundred meters wasn't far; the wind and snow didn't obstruct his view.

They were truly professional, moving cautiously—each step carefully verified, only continuing once safety was confirmed.

Han Wei couldn't focus on them. This was her first true step into the north cliff zone. Though she knew it would be hard, starting with falling rocks had given her a heavy psychological burden.

And while Qin Yun seemed to stab his ice axe in effortlessly, when it was her turn, her axe either didn't sink deep enough or her crampons couldn't grip—after just a few steps, she'd slip occasionally, heart pounding with terror.

Qin Yun turned his gaze back to her and sensed her struggle.

He tightened the rope, giving her support: "Lower your center of gravity, lean forward—never lean back. Drive the ice axe deep into the ice and snow, use your arms, not your legs."

Han Wei obeyed. As time passed, she slowly began to adapt.

The drone was pulled far away, the lens capturing the snow slope and the two figures within it.

Watching those two tiny figures slowly ascending in the lens, the comment section was filled with all kinds of remarks.

"The scenery is so beautiful—I'd love to try it in my lifetime."

"Nature's masterful craftsmanship."

"Envious of Brother Qin, envious of Miss Han."

"Looks dangerous—right behind them is a thousand-foot abyss."

"I feel like they could fall at any moment."

"Those two climbing teams are moving pretty fast."

As time passed and altitude kept rising, the air at 4700 meters had become extremely thin, oxygen levels only half that of the plains; Qin Yun didn't need to turn around to hear Han Wei's labored breathing.

He looked up—the C1 camp was still about three hundred meters above; the two climbing teams had surely already reached it.

Han Wei felt as if a giant hand was crushing her chest; every breath brought sharp pain, her vision darkened, and her ears rang incessantly.

She felt frustrated—she had been fine just moments ago, why had altitude sickness struck so suddenly?

"Altitude sickness?"

At that moment, a voice appeared beside her ear.

Han Wei turned her head to the side and saw Qin Yun to her left. She bit her lip, nodded weakly, voice faint: "I… I can't catch my breath…"

Qin Yun sighed helplessly—4700 meters, and they hadn't even reached C1 yet, and already altitude sickness had hit.

Han Wei now felt she had used all her strength just to stand, let alone keep climbing; Qin Yun first placed the oxygen mask over her face, then pulled the oxygen tube from his backpack and inserted it into the port.

As the switch turned on, oxygen began flowing; after a moment, Han Wei's complexion improved slightly.

But it was still abnormal—her exhaustion was visibly obvious.

Qin Yun let out a faint sigh. But just as he was about to speak, Han Wei seemed to sense it in advance, raising her right hand and pressing it onto his arm.

She shook her head, her eyes pleading: "Give me fifteen minutes—just fifteen minutes."

Online viewers in the livestream watched this moment closely.

"Why is Miss Han pushing herself so hard?"

"I heard climbers say: no rescue above five thousand meters—isn't the altitude already over five thousand? What will Brother Qin do?"

"Brother Qin, Miss Han clearly can't go on—just send her down now."

"Yes, altitude sickness isn't a joke—they're already severely affected before even entering C1; Miss Han clearly can't hold on."

"It's heartbreaking to see."

Far away in Shanghai, Fang Yi watched her daughter's exhausted state in the livestream; her earlier bluish-purple face pained her deeply.

She wished more than anything that the man called Brother Qin would immediately send her daughter down.

But she knew her daughter's character better than anyone.

Just as stubborn as her sister.

Qin Yun didn't pay attention to the livestream; he looked into Han Wei's eyes, hesitated slightly, then nodded: "Fine—fifteen minutes. If you can't hold on, we return directly to base camp."

Han Wei nodded gently, closed her eyes, and breathed in oxygen deeply.

Altitude sickness varies from person to person—some get it at three thousand meters, others show no reaction until four thousand, but at four thousand five hundred, some collapse outright.

Han Wei had come to the North Face base camp not once or twice; she had been acclimatizing all along. But this altitude sickness still struck without warning—yet she trusted her body's ability to adapt.

She hadn't reached her limit yet.

The two climbing teams that reached C1 began setting up camp; though the campsite was small, two tents were sufficient.

Among them, Xia Cuo of the Climbing Alliance glanced back toward the direction they'd come from, a lingering unease in his heart.

"I wonder if they've gone down yet?"

Soon, fifteen minutes passed.

Qin Yun asked again: "Can you keep going?"

After fifteen minutes of continuous oxygen, Han Wei's darkened consciousness cleared again; her overall condition improved greatly.

She looked toward the distant blurred mountain wall, clenched her fists, and nodded firmly: "Yes—I can still walk."

She couldn't stop—she hadn't reached the place where her sister vanished, hadn't apologized to her sister, hadn't brought her sister home—she couldn't stop here.

Qin Yun saw the stubbornness in her eyes, said nothing more, and simply nodded: "Alright—keep going. I'll slow down."

The two resumed climbing upward, but Qin Yun's attention remained mostly fixed on Han Wei.

Because altitude sickness isn't cured by short-term oxygen—it worsens as altitude increases once it appears.

In his observation, Han Wei's condition was slowly deteriorating again—her steps grew heavier, and she slipped several times, each time he yanked her back with the rope.

Through the rope, he could clearly feel her weakness—the strength on the other end grew fainter, her breathing heavy like a broken bellows, even oxygen couldn't ease it.

"Ahead is C1 camp—we'll rest there."

Qin Yun's voice gave Han Wei strength; she moved upward step by step.

Another ten minutes passed—the rope in Qin Yun's hand suddenly tightened; Han Wei's legs gave out, she lost her balance, and collapsed, gasping heavily, face bluish-purple, eyes glazed.

Qin Yun quickly pulled the rope upward, then rushed to Han Wei's side, felt her pulse and forehead, his brow furrowed tightly.

Damn—it was fever, severe hypoxia, total physical exhaustion—she had hit her absolute limit.

In just these few minutes, her condition had deteriorated rapidly.

"Han Wei, I'm sorry—your condition no longer allows you to continue. For your own safety, I must get you down the mountain immediately."

Han Wei, hearing Qin Yun's voice, shook her head unconsciously: "No… no, I can still go—I have to bring my sister home… Sister… sis… I'm sorry…"

In the lens, the wind howled like ghostly wailing. Han Wei lay limp in Qin Yun's arms, breathing rapidly, lips purple, eyes sunken—her once stunning face now only pale, sickly weakness.

Qin Yun looked up at the steep mountain wall; the drone slowly landed before him, its lens focused on him.

"Brothers, you've all seen the situation—Han Wei's body can't hold out any longer. I must send her down immediately. Once she's safe, I'll return and continue our journey."