Chapter Twenty-Two: Summit of the Snow Ridge (Part One)

The canyon was not large, and it didn’t take long for Qin Fei to locate the mine entrance. Not far from the mouth of the cave, half-buried in the snow, he spotted a discarded airplane engine. Three metal cargo containers lay beside it.

Qin Fei approached and knocked on them. Judging by the sound, there seemed to be something inside. But each container was tightly sealed, and to pry them open would require a hacksaw—something not easily accomplished in a short time.

Night had already fallen, making it unwise to remain outdoors. Qin Fei retreated into the mine to rest.

At dawn the next day, he returned to the cargo containers and, with his hacksaw, began cutting them open one by one.

Inside the first container, he found no fewer than a dozen bags of crackers, but nothing else.

[Salted Crackers: dry and salty biscuits that will make you thirsty.]

The second container held several boxes of instant drink mixes.

[Herbal Tea: a pack of floral tea—according to the label, a cup will soothe your mind.]

[Coffee: a canister of ground coffee—who knows how long it has rested here, but it can banish fatigue and warm you on a cold night, a thoughtful companion.]

The third container contained some clothing, though none were of better quality than what Qin Fei wore. They were essentially of no use.

With this unexpected bounty of food, Qin Fei planned to stay in the mine for a while. After all, less than two months remained for him to complete his survival mission.

Those dozen bags of crackers, combined with the wolf meat he’d dried the previous day, would suffice for about a month. As long as he managed to hunt one or two more animals, he could last until the end.

The mine was deep and had two exits. It was warm inside, and aside from the slight oppression of being underground, there was no fear of freezing at night. Coal could be found scattered throughout, so fuel was never a concern.

Thus, Qin Fei stayed in the mine for over half a month.

One night, as usual, he laid out his sleeping bag in a corner of the cave and lay down.

“Awooo—!”

A wolf’s howl echoed within the cave.

Wolves?

Qin Fei sprang to his feet, gripping his hunting bow and scanning the darkness with wary eyes. The cave was pitch black, but he could faintly hear footsteps approaching.

He dug a signal flare from his pack and struck the fuse.

Sparks erupted from the flare, illuminating the cavern.

Not far from him, three gray wolves stared at him unblinking. The flare’s harsh light reflected in their eyes, causing them to glow an eerie green.

If it had been a lone wolf, Qin Fei would have felt no fear. A single arrow would have settled the matter, and even if he missed, he could handle close combat. But three wolves were another matter entirely.

He dared not loose an arrow. Against three wolves, the bow would be of little use and might even enrage them further.

He lowered his bow and stood his ground, fixing his gaze on the wolves instead of fleeing. A man could never outrun wolves. He had to make them believe he was unafraid—running would betray fear.

Slowly, Qin Fei backed away, reaching into his pack to retrieve dried wolf meat, which he tossed to the ground.

Wolves would not refuse the flesh of their own kind.

The largest of the three wolves lunged for the meat, devouring it with ravenous growls that seemed to threaten the other two.

There was a hierarchy among wolves, as expected. The other two, cowed by the alpha’s dominance, did not dare approach, and instead pressed closer to Qin Fei.

Seeing that only one wolf was distracted, Qin Fei kept retreating. Fortunately, the flare in his hand kept the remaining wolves at bay for now.

A flare would last at most fifteen minutes. Qin Fei needed to shake off the wolves quickly.

As he withdrew, he tossed more dried meat behind him, slowing the wolves and dulling their aggression.

Unknowingly, he reached the mine’s other exit.

This opening was higher up; stepping outside, he found himself halfway up the snow mountain. The wind and snow here were fierce.

Yet the two wolves pursued him relentlessly, driving him beneath a cliff—he had nowhere left to retreat.

At that moment, Qin Fei noticed a red climbing rope extending from the mountaintop to the ground below. Perhaps he could escape along it.

The cliff was at least ten meters high, and with the storm raging, it would be no easy climb. But it was his only way out.

As the wolves edged closer, Qin Fei suddenly hurled the flare at them. Instinctively, the wolves flinched back.

Seizing the moment, Qin Fei grabbed the climbing rope and scrambled upward, gaining over two meters in an instant.

The wolves leapt for him but could not reach his new height.

The rope was wet to begin with, and in the bitter cold, it was rimed with ice. Qin Fei’s hands burned with pain as the ice bit into his flesh.

He considered wrapping his hands in cloth, but with his feet braced on the cliff and his full weight borne by his arms, he had no means to do so.

Enduring the agony, he climbed steadily toward the top.

Climbing a sheer ten-meter cliff was no trivial feat. With his system’s spatial backpack calculating weight, Qin Fei was effectively hauling a heavy load up the rock face, all while buffeted by the icy wind. Progress was slow.

After five or six minutes, he had climbed seven or eight meters. His hands, numbed by the cold, could no longer feel pain; only instinct kept his grip.

Glancing down, he saw the two wolves still circling below, unwilling to leave—as if waiting for him to falter and fall.

He dared not let go.

Two-thirds of the way up, he spotted a protruding rock that looked sturdy enough to serve as a foothold.

He swung himself onto it. The stone held his weight.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he stood on the ledge, clutching the rope with one hand as he attempted to regain his strength.

He was now about ten meters above the ground.

Looking at his hands, he saw they were swollen and red, nearly numb from the cold.

Now that he had a place to stand, he freed one hand, wrapped it in cloth, and braced himself for the next climb.

The wind howled around the cliff, making it impossible to linger. After a brief rest, he pressed upward once more.

He was nearly at the top when, suddenly, the climbing rope above his head gave a sharp, cracking sound.

It seemed the rope was about to snap…