Chapter 508: Snow Blindness

The recovery time for snow blindness is one to three days; if I got it here, not only would I die earlier than Poker-face, but I'd die more miserably than him.

What am I even doing this for?

With my eyes closed, I felt utterly depressed. Damn it—last time I came, the sky was full of gloomy snow clouds, so there was no chance of getting this condition. I didn't prepare at all this time, but who would have thought I'd run into this now? This time I really screwed myself over.

Snow blindness is a very strange condition. Most people think it's a temporary loss of vision caused by intense light stimulating the retina. Usually, after a few days of rest, eyesight recovers on its own. People who've had snow blindness before can get it again if they aren't careful. A second bout is more severe. Repeated episodes gradually weaken vision, leading to chronic eye problems, and in serious cases, even permanent blindness.

When walking on snowfields, people usually wear goggles. Even regular sunglasses can alleviate and prevent snow blindness.

But there's also an American study showing that snow blindness is actually caused by the eyes being unable to find a focal point in the snowfield (often all you see is pure white on a snowy mountain), leading to excessive eye strain. Snow blindness rarely strikes as sudden complete blindness, but once symptoms appear, you absolutely cannot use your eyes anymore—you must give them rest.

In other words, given my current situation, I probably won't be able to use my eyes safely for about twelve hours. During that time, even intermittent use requires great caution. That means I'll definitely be stuck here for a long time.

Thinking about it made me extremely frustrated. Why did everything go smoothly when we arrived, and now I've ended up like this? If something had happened to me on the way in, Poker-face might have had to take me back.

I should have found an excuse to break my leg a few days ago.

As I was brooding in silence, I suddenly felt the ground under me loosen; the entire snow slope I was sitting on slid downward.

Sliding down a snow slope is absolutely impossible to stop. I didn't even have time to react. I just felt myself spinning and sliding, my hands flailing aimlessly around me. By then I couldn't keep my eyes closed anymore. Several times I plunged my hands deep into the snow, trying to use the resistance to stop myself, but each time I only triggered larger snow slides.

I screamed as I tumbled down the slope. I knew that below was a very steep cliff, with a drop of at least thirty meters. Even if there was snow at the bottom, I wouldn't come out of it unscathed.

In the past, I might have thought, "If I die, I die," but now I couldn't accept it. In panic, I grabbed at everything, but in an instant, I slid off the cliff and fell through the air.

When I rolled off the cliff and fell about six or seven meters, everything around me seemed to go into slow motion. I could see all the snow blocks flying out with me, tracing all kinds of strange trajectories.

Then I landed on my back in the snow.

Falling thirty meters into snow as soft as cotton—just imagining it sounds incredibly intense. I have no idea how deep I sank into the snow, but I knew that from above, there would be a human-shaped pit, probably in a really weird position.

The snow here was exceptionally loose. As I crashed down, countless bits of loose snow rolled in from the edges and hit my face.

My head was dizzy as hell, but fortunately, I didn't feel like I'd hit anything hard when I fell. If there had been even a couple of rocks in the snow, I definitely wouldn't be feeling like this.

I brushed the snow off my face, struggled to climb up, and stuck my head out of the pit. Just as I was about to curse, I suddenly sensed a shadow above me. I looked up and immediately saw that the entire snow slope I had disturbed on the cliff had slid down from the edge.

That shadow was the snow slope: judging by the scale, I estimated about a ton of snow would slam directly into my face, smashing me back into the pit.

The loose snow, like sand, instantly blocked everything around me, including my nose and mouth.

I struggled desperately, but the loose snow covering me was extremely thick, burying me as solidly as if I'd been sealed in earth. No matter how much I clawed, I couldn't find a way out.

I couldn't hold my breath any longer. I started breathing, but every inhale filled my mouth and nose with ice crystals. Being in snow is very different from being in water in two major ways: snow isn't solid; it has countless tiny spaces filled with air. I twisted my head to compress a small cavity and took a few breaths. Though I wasn't as suffocated, my chest still felt extremely tight and I was dizzy.

Just when I was almost in despair, I suddenly heard movement outside. Then my flailing hand was grabbed, and my whole body was pulled out of the snow pit. I gasped for air and saw Poker-face clutching the back of my collar, yanking me out of the snow.

My vision was still a blurry pink: I looked at him and instantly got angry. I asked him, "Why did you come back?" He glanced at me, then up at the cliff above, and said to me, "I heard you calling for help."

Sound travels very well over snow, and since I was upwind, it wasn't surprising he heard me. I thought to myself, "Hell, at that moment I was cursing your ancestors, wasn't I?" I got up, squinting around. I immediately realized he must have jumped from thirty meters up, and I couldn't help feeling a bit touched.

He still came back. I suddenly wondered if he'd had an epiphany—was this a chance Heaven was giving me to convince him? Him coming back meant he still had some attachment to the world.

But before I could speak, he spoke first.

"Follow me," Poker-face said. "This is a dead-end valley; more snow will collapse. Let's head to the center of the valley first." He pointed around, and I saw that the place was surrounded by cliffs over thirty meters high. I couldn't help cursing under my breath.

I looked around and found no route out at all. Then I noticed Poker-face clenching his own hand.

His face was expressionless, but I could tell he was gripping his own wrist tightly. I quickly asked, "What's wrong? Are you injured?" He said calmly, "Nothing. An injury I had before I came. It hasn't fully healed." I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to take his pack for him, but he blocked me with his hand. Then I saw that his hand was bent at a weird angle—obviously broken.

I frowned. "Your hand—what happened? Is it broken?"

Poker-face said, "It was broken before I saw you. It had healed a bit, but when I jumped down just now, I swung it too hard."

I was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help laughing.

Things had suddenly developed to this point—it was completely unexpected.

Now we were trapped. I had early symptoms of snow blindness, the weather was getting worse, and Poker-face had broken his wristbone trying to save me. I didn't have many choices left.

If I couldn't accompany him out, then I'd have to go with him until he knocked me unconscious. Otherwise, this whole thing just wouldn't make sense.

A broken wristbone hurts terribly. I checked my gear, looking for something useful to give Poker-face first aid. Fortunately, nothing had shattered; my pack and food were mostly intact. Some things had been shaken out during my tumble and buried in the snow, impossible to find, but the most important compressed food was still there. I found a snow slope, broke off two icicles to use as splints, and immobilized Poker-face's wrist. The wind wasn't too strong here, but occasionally snowballs were blown down from above, hitting our heads and hurting a lot. If a slightly larger one or one with ice chunks hit us, we could get seriously injured.

After I finished tending to him, I said, "Whatever you're going to do, you need to get to some place, but in your current condition, you might die on the way. I think you'd better go back and recover first. Let's turn around."

He shook his head and said quietly, "This is a small matter. You go on."

I said, "You broke your hand to save me. If that causes your final plan to fail, I can't bear it, so I have to go with you."

He said, "Then I'll still use the method I mentioned last night."

"Fine, do whatever you want. If you really knock me out, I'll have nothing to say, but I hope you know that if you need someone to go with you to the end, I won't refuse." I said, "I want to go with you. This is my own decision, so don't struggle with it."

Without saying anything more, Poker-face had spoken so much to me that I felt he really had no other choice. We were silent for a moment and continued forward. When we reached the center of this valley, Poker-face said, "The first blizzard will come within three days. If we can't reach the hot spring ahead, we'll both die here. And if you go back from here, you'll quickly return to your world."

Poker-face was trying to tell me that even if I wanted to go with him, things weren't as easy as I thought. But I had made up my mind. I no longer paid attention or even considered the rationality of his words. I said, "Then I'll go too. This is my own thought." I repacked and organized all the equipment to lighten his load. But he took his own gear, didn't let me split it up, and slung it over one shoulder. His gear wasn't much, but it was quite heavy, pressing down on him, appearing extremely heavy.