Chapter 98: Reaching the Ultimate Peak

The wind howled, whipping up a blizzard; visibility had plummeted unnoticed, and the temperature, which had briefly risen, dropped again to minus thirty degrees. With every breath, Qin Yun felt his nasal passages freezing shut.

This time, Qin Yun truly felt just how excellent the equipment sponsored by Huan Teng Sports was.

Whether the thermal insulation of the base layer or the durability of the outer shell, both played an unparalleled role in this climb. If the gear had been even slightly inferior, if the warmth didn’t meet requirements, the cold alone would have driven him back.

Now, the only thing he needed to consider was protecting his own safety in such an extreme environment.

After all, he used no safety rope—every step relied solely on his ice axe and crampons; not a single misstep was allowed. Though this final stretch was only six hundred meters, on flat ground it would take less than ten minutes to cover.

But under these conditions, he estimated it would take him at least three hours.

Most importantly, his backpack held little food left. If he couldn’t proceed as planned, even he would have to abandon this summit attempt.

Looking up, his vision revealed not a simple ice wall ahead, but an extremely narrow ice ridge.

The ridge, like a blade’s edge, dropped into abysses on both sides, less than half a meter wide—barely enough for one foot to stand on, covered in smooth ice and snow, with fragile overhanging snow ledges beneath; one misstep meant instant death.

This was the final gate of death on the North Face route of Yaomei Peak.

Though no longer requiring free climbing, this ridge posed a greater challenge than any previous rock face.

For ordinary climbers, rock climbing could be done with free ascents and protection; with sufficient skill, they might still make it through.

But this ridge was beyond the capability of any ordinary climber.

Qin Yun stood at the ridge’s start, glancing down at the abyss below. Snow and wind blurred his vision, revealing only darkness.

“Current altitude: 5700 meters. Ice ridge section, two hundred meters long, average width thirty centimeters, vertical drop on both sides exceeding one thousand meters.”

He didn’t look at the camera; the drone had stabilized, its voice clear in the livestream, “The snow overhangs are fragile—do not step hard. Only use your toes to tap lightly and move quickly across.”

Without hesitation, he bent low, lowered his center of gravity, nearly lying flat on the ridge, anchoring his body with his ice axe, inching forward with careful toe taps.

On either side of his body stretched endless darkness and abyss; the wind roared as if trying to blow him off.

His movements were slow and cautious, each step as light as a feather, daring not to apply any force, fearing he might shatter the fragile snow overhang and trigger a slide.

The drone’s battery drained rapidly.

Under these harsh conditions, maintaining stability required excessive power.

In the camera’s view, this suffocatingly narrow ridge made viewers’ scalps tingle and their legs go weak.

“Damn, this is way too narrow.”

“My feet are over a cliff—I’m dizzy just looking.”

“If it were me, I’d drop dead right here.”

“Qin Ye’s balls are enormous.”

“How the hell did past climbers get across? Even Qin Ye’s struggling so much?”

“You guys forget what Qin Ye’s challenging? No protection! Did any other climbers attempt this without protection? If you tried it like Qin Ye, who among you could’ve made it through the previous rock face? Who’d dare?”

“Exactly—Qin Ye’s no-protection climb is the key. Others crossing ridges had protection; they didn’t have their heads dangling at their waist like Qin Ye does.”

Qin Yun had no time to interact with livestream viewers now. For him, even his master-level skills had reached their limit—any mistake could mean death. This was no joke.

Yet even so, his heartbeat remained steady, his gaze focused.

His attention settled on the ridge beneath his feet—he could clearly sense the thickness and hardness of the snow layer, precisely distinguishing solid ice from fragile snow overhangs.

He moved like a lone wolf walking a blade—calm, cautious, precise.

Suddenly, a violent gust slammed into him. Qin Yun’s body lurched sideways, nearly blown off the ridge.

“!!!!!!”

“That scared the hell out of me—I’m sweating in my palms.”

“Qin Ye, hold on! Hold on tight!”

“Holy shit, you scared me half to death.”

At the last moment, Qin Yun jammed both ice axes deep into the center of the ridge, exploded with arm strength, locking himself in place, pressing his body flat against the ice, as if nailed to the spot.

The gale roared past him, violently shaking his clothes, yet couldn’t budge him an inch.

Ten seconds later, the wind eased slightly.

Qin Yun slowly released his arms, pulled out his ice axes, and continued inching forward. His calm voice echoed in the livestream.

“Mountain weather changes rapidly. That was a gust—very common.”

As if he’d merely had his hair ruffled by the wind, he appeared utterly composed.

“Damn, got schooled again.”

“Will Qin Ye die if he doesn’t show off?”

“666”

“I don’t even know what words to use anymore.”

“That mental strength? Unbeatable.”

Qin Yun spent over an hour crossing the two-hundred-meter ridge. When he finally reached the traverse ice cliff, he felt his body’s surface sweat had frozen—he was now a living ice statue.

He exhaled slightly, pulled the drone closer, and for the first time looked directly into the camera.

“Brothers, the ridge is behind us. Next is the traverse ice cliff—a suspended ice wall requiring lateral climbing. Though only fifty meters long, with a thousand-meter drop below and no protection or footholds, I have zero margin for error. Wish me luck.”

After speaking, he released the drone, took a deep breath, pulled a cloth strap from his pack, and tightly bound both ice axes to his hands. Then he pressed himself against the ice wall, alternating power from his axes, moving sideways with slow, deliberate steps.

At this moment, his body hung in midair, supported only by his ice axes against the cliff—any slip meant certain doom.

But for him, the only real danger in this section was whether his ice axes would grip firmly when driven into the ice; everything else posed little challenge.

Yet the drone’s AI understood livestreaming—it kept switching to dangerously thrilling angles, subjecting viewers to constant adrenaline spikes within ten minutes.

Gifts flooded the screen nonstop, and likes surged past fifty million, reaching an unbelievable level.

Below the ice wall lay a relatively flat snow platform—the final rest point before summiting, now at 6100 meters.

Qin Yun rested briefly here, replenishing water and food.

“Friends, oxygen here is extremely thin. Look at my breathing—it’s already slightly labored. My physical reserves are at their limit. But when I say ‘no protection,’ it includes no supplemental oxygen.”

Qin Yun’s eyes shone brightly, brilliant as stars.

“Qin Ye is truly reckless.”

“Others stream for entertainment; Qin Ye streams to kill himself.”

“Streamer’s too hardcore—I’m a fan now.”

“Qin Ye is awesome.”

“I must say again: the only true god-streamer on Douyin.”

Looking at these comments, Qin Yun smiled: “Friends, we’re at 6100 meters. One hundred fifty meters remain to the summit. Yaomei Peak, here I come.”

With those words, he stepped forward again, launching his final assault toward the peak piercing the clouds.

In truth, after crossing the traverse ice cliff, no real danger remained for him—the summit was now guaranteed.

Each meter gained was arduous, yet his steps remained unwavering.

But the snowstorm grew fiercer, visibility dimmer—as if Yaomei Peak itself resisted his advance.

Yet his will was as unyielding as steel.

Closer. Even closer.

Finally, as his foot touched the highest snow platform, all comments in the livestream froze.

Instantly, the livestream’s previous calm erupted into boundless passion.

Gifts flooded the screen so heavily it glitched; comments scrolled endlessly.

“Holy shit, Qin Ye made it!”

“Qin Ye is legendary.”

“Streamer is awesome, 666.”

“Incredible—he summited without protection! A true god of mountaineering has emerged!”

“Is Qin Ye even human? He pulled this off? It’s insane.”

“Does Qin Ye not need oxygen? In such an extreme environment, he didn’t even use supplemental oxygen?”

Qin Yun stood atop the summit, gazing down. Below, clouds surged like an ocean; snow-capped peaks stretched endlessly. The other three peaks of Mount Siguniang bowed beneath his feet.

Sunlight pierced the clouds, bathing him in golden radiance—as if a celestial deity had descended.

He stood atop the Eastern Devil’s Wall, atop the ultimate peak beyond Shu Mountains, overlooking ten thousand miles of land and sky.

The drone slowly advanced. Qin Yun looked into the lens, pulled his mask down, and smiled.

Countless viewers, seeing his smile, felt themselves infected by it.

“He summited! Qin Ye summited!”

“6250 meters, North Face of Yaomei Peak—another conqueror joins the ranks.”

“The Eastern Devil’s Wall has been conquered. I crown Qin Ye the greatest mountaineer of all time.”

“Qin Ye is legendary.”

Watching the flood of comments and gifts, likes had quietly climbed to eighty million—the highest in all of Douyin livestream history.

“Friends, I’m Qin Yun, a casual mountaineering enthusiast. My goal today was to summit via the North Face of Yaomei Peak. I’ve succeeded.”

“Holy shit, is Qin Ye going to end the stream?”

“No way! We’ve only been watching for a few hours!”

“Qin Ye, stay longer! Don’t quit so soon!”

“Stream for a few more hours—you still have to descend, no rush!”

Qin Yun smiled: “As you said, I need to end the stream—not because I don’t want to continue, but because the drone’s battery won’t last. The cold here causes sudden power drops. Without exception, it’ll shut off in at most thirty minutes.”

"If that's the case, I think it's time to say goodbye to everyone. Let's meet again in the next challenge. Hi everyone, I'm Qin Yun, an outdoor streamer. If you haven't subscribed yet, please hit follow. Thank you all for your gifts. Goodbye."

With that, Qin Yun clicked to end the stream, and the live room went dark instantly.

Qin Yun glanced at today’s streaming income and whistled inwardly—it was already an astonishingly large sum.

He retracted the drone, turned off the action camera, and placed both inside his backpack to charge.

Only then did he summon the system’s interface.

【Check-in task completed. Reward received: Eight Languages】

【Eight Languages: What makes humans superior to animals is their ability to speak—and you can speak even more】