Chapter 577 - 273: Mount Everest Oxygen-Free Climb and Speed Descent? I Don’t See What’s So Difficult (Part 3)

Ah Jie paused slightly when his finger touched a fixed screw while inspecting his ascender.

The extreme cold had blurred the metallic feel, and he thought he sensed a barely noticeable looseness, but the fierce wind and urgent time did not allow him to ponder. He tightened the screw and cast this slight doubt out of his mind.

The team moved like a string of black ants, merging into the violent white world.

The "Ghost’s Sorrow" zone leading to the summit was a hellish mix of ice and rock.

Visibility was less than ten meters, and the team members relied on ropes and ascenders to move with difficulty on the nearly vertical ice wall.

Every swing of the ice axe and every kick into the ice consumed immense energy.

The raging wind tried to peel them off the rock wall, and they had to muster all their strength to resist.

Disaster struck as they crossed a particularly steep ice wall.

Ah Jie was shifting his body weight onto the ascender, preparing for the next move.

"Crack—"

A faint but crisp sound of breaking was almost inaudible amidst the howling wind.

Yet the feeling in Ah Jie’s hand was unmistakably clear—his ascender, on which he depended, had suddenly failed! The fixed screw completely snapped!

"Ah—!"

His scream was swallowed by the fierce wind.

Ah Jie’s body instantly went out of control, like a kite with its string cut, crashing onto the ice wall to the side and below under the pull of the safety rope!

"Bang!" The heavy impact sound was chilling.

"Ah Jie!!" A teammate ahead turned back in panic.

Lian Feng’s heart sank to the bottom.

He quickly secured himself using a protection station and looked down.

Ah Jie was hanging in mid-air by the safety rope, coughing violently, with speckles of crimson blood spattered on his mask.

"My... my ribs..." Ah Jie’s voice was full of pain, and he began to vomit uncontrollably, a sign of acute mountain sickness.

...

The rescue began.

This was in the death zone at 8600 meters.

Every minute, body heat was lost, oxygen consumed, and the fierce wind continued to weaken their will.

An hour later, Ah Jie was finally moved to a relatively rescuable position, but he had almost lost the ability to move independently.

Retreating became the only choice.

And retreating was often more hazardous than climbing.

Dragging an injured teammate up and down steep ice walls with fierce winds raging, every step felt like dancing on a knife’s edge.

As they passed the famous "Second Step" and descended that "Chinese Ladder," an unforeseen, even stronger whirlwind suddenly hit!

The team shook violently, and the young team member below who was securing Ah Jie lost his footing and balance, dragging Ah Jie along in a slide downward!

Lian Feng, at the top of the formation, reacted almost instinctively.

He thrust his ice axe deeper into the ice layer, using his body as an anchor, desperately holding the rope that connected the team member and Ah Jie!

The enormous impact force instantly transmitted through the rope!

"Ugh—!" Lian Feng let out a muffled grunt, feeling intense pain in his calf.

But he didn’t let go, gritting his teeth, with veins bulging on his forehead, forcibly stopped the descending of his teammates.

The team was saved.

But when they finally safely retreated to the advance camp, Lian Feng’s left calf bent at an unnatural angle—a tibia open fracture.

Ah Jie, suffering from severe pulmonary edema and cerebral edema, fell into a coma.

Days later, the official report and Lian Feng’s team’s difficult statement were finally released: "Challenge of climbing the north slope failed, team leader Lian Feng fractured, teammate Ah Jie undergoing rescue, all members have retreated to a safe area, thanks to all for their concern..."

The comment section beneath the statement quickly flooded with various voices.

There were heartfelt sympathies and blessings, but more were glaring questions and sneers:

"Ha ha, turns out it was all hype, played too far, huh?"

"Always said it was a suicide squad, wasting public rescue resources!"

"Still, the Polish masters are amazing, these people are just overestimating themselves!"

"Chinese people aren’t suited for this, face reality!"

Liu Li felt very sad looking at these comments and said, "The comments from these people have changed again..."

Li Younan said nothing.

He quietly took the phone, silently browsing through those glaring comments.

"Hype," "Disgrace," "Overconfidence."

When he saw the top comment that had become the hottest: "Always said, Chinese people can’t handle this top extreme sport, just stick to making travel vlogs"

Li Younan’s finger paused slightly.

Liu Li said, "Under that Polish guy’s video are all compliments... and because of Lian Feng’s failure, that Polish guy’s video became even more popular, with many people checking it out..."

"Because he succeeded."

Li Younan suddenly spoke, his voice unnaturally calm.

He put down the phone, walked to the window, and gazed at the distant silhouette of continuous mountains in Rikaze.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became heavy.

Li Younan again calmly said, "Our country has always emphasized something called ’moderation’."

"But the truth is, the more something is repeatedly mentioned, the more it’s pursued, and perhaps... the more it’s pursued, the less we’ve truly possessed it."

"Lu Xun once criticized our national character, which is always sliding from one extreme to another, chanting moderation for thousands of years, yet it never truly existed."

"For example, before the Battle of Jiawu, Chinese people’s extreme confidence persisted, even though contemporary Western countries already had ironclad ships and artillery, building modern skyscrapers, we still regarded ours as the greatest."

"But one failure completely turned Chinese people into extreme inferiority, believing anything Western is superior, and anything from our country is certainly backward, ignorant, and hideous."