Тhе еvеning training sessiоn fосusеd оn the prevеntiоn and treаtment of high-аltitudе illnеssеs, lеd bу mountainеering coach Lu Jianуi. Нuzi sat сrouсhеd bеsidе the роdium, stеrnlу wаtching thе dozen or sо сlimbers bеlow. True tо his military dоg nature, hе rеmаinеd mоtiоnlеss until Lu Jianyi dismissеd thе clаss.
Diао Zhuo gаzed аt Нuzi, lost in thought.
Lu Jiаnуi listed numеrous exаmples of dаngеrоus situatiоns, emphasizing thаt if аnуonе nоtiсеd suсh rеaсtiоns in themsеlves оr their cоmpаniоns, thеy shоuld dеsсеnd promptlу, or the situation cоuld becomе criticаl. Aftеr this lеsson, sоme of the previously ambitious climbers decided to turn back. It was said that even after reaching base camp, another group would leave due to severe altitude reactions or psychological distress. Lu Jianyi humorously remarked that it was never too late to regret, just as some cars would turn away at toll booths upon hearing the 300-yuan fee.
Someone in the audience immediately mimicked Guo Degang’s retort to the "formula crosstalk" doctoral couple, pinching their throat and widening their eyes to say, "You can leave now if you want!"
A wave of laughter swept through the room.
Jiang Aohang and Fu Xingyue listened attentively, while Fu Yingtao, likely due to altitude sickness, seemed distracted, probably wrestling with the idea of giving up. Rumor had it that he had vomited after eating plain noodles, and even the prepared herbal medicine didn’t help—he threw that up too, eventually settling for an apple to fill his stomach.
"Dad, maybe you should... return to Golmud first?" Jiang Aohang suggested.
"When I applied for annual leave, I told everyone I was climbing a 6,000-meter peak. Going back now..." Fu Yingtao hesitated.
Fu Xingyue added, "Those people love to gossip. I overheard them saying you wouldn’t make it to the summit, at most just touring Qinghai before heading back."
Fu Yingtao’s expression shifted. "Who says I can’t make it? This time, I’m determined to reach the summit! I’m not going back to Golmud!"
Among the friends who came with Diao Zhuo, one or two also began showing mild symptoms of altitude sickness, mainly headaches. Lu Jianyi advised drinking plenty of water, staying hydrated, and eating again even after vomiting—once the food stayed down, the altitude sickness would be overcome. Bayunye, who spent over half the year driving along various routes into Tibet, showed no signs of altitude sickness. Sitting next to Diao Zhuo, she pretended to listen while actually chatting in an off-road group on her phone, drumming up business.
During the break, Da Qiang asked Bayunye, "Since Master Ba and Diao Zhuo met during the Qiangtang rescue, is she also part of Beidou Rescue?"
"Earlier, he asked if I wanted to join the rescue team, but I refused." Bayunye glanced at Diao Zhuo. "For one, volunteer work doesn’t pay. For another, even if I joined, I had a condition—I’d only go on missions he was part of. That’s impure motivation, so I figured I shouldn’t take up a spot for nothing."
Diao Zhuo casually rested his arm on the back of her chair, leaning in to ask, "If you only go on missions with me, are you there to rescue others or to rescue me?"
Bayunye smiled without answering. Da Qiang, assuming she was embarrassed, changed the subject and chatted with the others. Just as the second half of the session was about to begin, Bayunye suddenly hooked her arm around Diao Zhuo’s, pulling him close, and whispered in his ear:
"If Captain Diao ever needs rescuing by me, he’ll never escape my grasp again."
Diao Zhuo’s palm was warm as he gave her waist a firm squeeze. "I’ve never thought about escaping, and don’t you dare think about it either."
Bayunye twirled the ends of her hair, lowering her head with a smile.Diao Zhuo pinched her chin, forcing her to look up. His thumb swept heavily over her lips as if in punishment. She tilted her head and bit his finger, clearly feeling his body stiffen.
He lowered his voice and said, "Is that all you've got?"
She released her bite and sat up straight. "I have plenty of skills. How many have you seen?"
Diao Zhuo thought to himself, You and your endless skills!
As the class neared its end, Lu Jianyi announced that the next morning would include a knot-tying and equipment training session, followed by a practice run on the north slope Glacier. After that, they would drive everyone to the south slope base camp at an altitude of 5,050 meters.
"Even though everyone is tired during the day, try to stay up late at night. When you're exhausted to the point of collapse, you'll fall asleep as soon as you hit the bed and won't overthink things," Lu Jianyi advised.
"Are you tired?" Bayunye quietly asked Diao Zhuo.
He looked at her deeply. "No."
"I am." She stretched lazily.
Witch! Diao Zhuo cursed inwardly.
Class ended just after nine. The young people, already accustomed to staying up late, didn’t need the coach’s reminder to avoid sleeping so early. Bayunye played with Huzi but accidentally bumped into Fu Yingtao. He moved his leg away in disgust, repeatedly brushing off the dog hair stuck to his pants. Fu Xingyue explained that Fu Yingtao had been bitten by a dog when he was young, so he hated animals, especially dogs.
"So particular..." Bayunye shook her head and had no choice but to return Huzi to Lu Jianyi.
Dong Bo had somehow gotten hold of an old guitar, and after tuning it, it actually worked. With a few strums, the sound was rich and full. A large group of people sat at the doors of their respective rooms, listening to him play and sing.
"I'm thinking of you inside the Second Ring Road
You're on a distant mountain, ten miles of spring breeze
Today's wind blows toward you, bringing rain
I say all the wine is not as good as you..."
The night at West Great Beach grew even quieter. The lights at the lodging site resembled only a few faint lanterns in the pitch-black darkness. The sound of the guitar and the deep male voice complemented each other. Occasionally, a train roared past on the distant Qinghai-Tibet Railway, its whistle suddenly drowning out the melody, echoing across the flat, vast grassland beneath the Yuzhu mountain range.
After Dong Bo finished singing, everyone cheered and teased him.
"Bingo! The mentor turns for you! Another one!"
"Just looking at your skill level, you must have begged for food in the old society!"
"All talk and no action—you can you up!"
"Up it is!"
For a while, the corridor felt like a concert hall. Those who could play a little tried their hand, while those who couldn’t asked for help to accompany the songs they wanted to sing. New and old songs took turns. Hippo wasn’t idle either. When someone sang "Desert Camel," he recounted the story of rescuing the college students in the Badanjilin Desert like a storyteller. A group gathered around to listen, gasping in amazement when he mentioned the unidentified creature beneath the sand that sprayed corrosive liquid.
"Won’t you sing one?" Bayunye asked, holding her toothbrush and cup, ready to fetch water, nudging Diao Zhuo with her elbow.
The iron-willed straight man remained unmoved, his phone screen displaying several coordinate points as if he were planning some route.
"Typical." Bayunye snorted coldly and was about to walk away when Diao Zhuo grabbed her and pointed to his own cheek.
Bayunye leaned in as he slightly lifted his face. She remained still for a long while, and he waited patiently until he heard her light laugh. "Wishful thinking. Bring a bottle of wine. We’ve been apart and strangers before, but tonight let’s properly toast each other."
Diao Zhuo understood.Jiang Aohang borrowed a guitar and started playing, saying he wanted to sing a song for his wife. When Bayunye returned from brushing her teeth, she happened to see Fu Xingyue’s face flushed red as she playfully punched Jiang Aohang.
Jiang Aohang laughed heartily, casually strumming a short intro before clearing his throat.
"For the rest of my life, the wind and snow are you, the ordinary days are you, and even poverty is you. The glory and wealth are you, the tenderness in my heart is you, and everything my eyes behold is you..."
Perhaps because she knew about the malicious words he had spoken in the bathroom earlier, Bayunye felt that although he sang in tune, there was no emotional depth to his performance.
She exchanged a glance with Hippo, both silently conveying a sarcastic "heh" in their minds. Hippo, his throat dry from all his boasting, took a quick sip of water and gestured with his chin toward the four-person room. "You’re still staying here?"
"Where else would I stay? I’m not a leader," Bayunye replied as she walked inside. The room had just been occupied by two sisters from Tangshan, and Bayunye loved listening to them talk—it felt like sharing a room with Grandma Zhao Lirong.
"What about Diao Zhuo..."
Bayunye made a playful gesture as if to hit him. Did she drive all this way just to hook up with Diao Zhuo?
The sound of guitar playing and singing clearly disturbed Fu Yingtao, who called his daughter and son-in-law into his room. "It’s fine if they’re making a fuss, but you two shouldn’t join in."
"That’s right, you should stop singing," Fu Xingyue said shyly, leaning against Jiang Aohang.
Jiang Aohang grinned. "I have something on my mind, and I can’t keep it bottled up."
Whether or not Fu Yingtao clearly heard the lyrics, his expression softened slightly.
"Dad, are you still feeling unwell?" Fu Xingyue asked.
"Much better," Fu Yingtao replied, taking a deep drag of his cigarette. "I might feel even better by tomorrow morning. Aohang, go tell them to cook some porridge tomorrow morning—not too thick, but not too watery either. The side dishes should be even lighter. Also, I saw a few cigarette butts in the hallway earlier. Tell them to clean them up promptly. The latch in the bathroom is a bit loose too. Since this floor only has one bathroom, tighten the screws or better yet, replace the latch. How much could that cost?"
"Alright, I’ll go in a bit."
"Go now," Fu Yingtao waved his hand. "You should both get to bed early."
"Do you want to eat something else?" Jiang Aohang asked with concern.
Fu Yingtao seemed genuinely hungry, rubbing his stomach. Fu Xingyue went back to her room and brought a packet of biscuits and some milk, warming the milk with hot water. Fu Yingtao ate a few biscuits and, since he didn’t vomit, drank all the milk.
From the hallway, singing voices drifted in one after another—some hoarse, some high-pitched—suggesting it wouldn’t quiet down anytime soon. The temperature dropped lower and lower. Wrapped in her windbreaker, Bayunye pulled up a chair and sat by the door, listening to the songs while waiting for Diao Zhuo. Glancing up, she spotted Jiang Aohang in the distance, carrying a thermos in one hand and what looked like health supplements in the other, heading into Fu Yingtao’s room.
She pursed her lips thoughtfully, rummaged through her suitcase, and pulled out a packet of medicine. Tearing it open, she took out an entire blister pack and walked over—these were heart and lung protection pills, which she only gave out one per person when leading clients on high-altitude Glacier hikes, rarely using them otherwise.
"What’s this..." Fu Yingtao stared at the six red capsules in the blister pack on the table, instinctively suspecting Bayunye was selling medicine.
Bayunye glanced at the health supplements Jiang Aohang had brought—some vitamin tablets like B-complex, C, and E, along with a box of grape seed capsules. Fu Xingyue and Jiang Aohang each held a few tablets in their palms, looking as though they were about to take them."Take these. Eat one an hour before training tomorrow after reaching base camp, and another on summit day to protect your heart," Bayunye explained. "I've guided many clients on high-altitude treks, and they've all returned just fine."
"How much?" Fu Yingtao asked, sitting yet somehow looking down on her.
"No charge. We're all part of the same climbing team—just don't hold us back later." She shot him an annoyed glare and turned to leave.
"Thank you!" Fu Xingyue stood up, somewhat embarrassed, and stopped Bayunye. "You said you run chartered tours..."
Seeing a potential business opportunity, Bayunye showed Fu Xingyue photos of previous tourists as they walked out into the corridor together.
After some back-and-forth, she grew a bit closer to Fu Xingyue. She learned that Jiang Aohang had graduated from a prestigious university, worked diligently at the company, and was a favored candidate by Fu Xingyue's parents. Fu Xingyue's mother had been in good health until a year ago, when she passed away from liver cancer before turning 50.
Returning to her room, Bayunye muttered to herself, "Liver cancer... That's not something you can just pin on someone..." Hmm? Wait, her mother died less than a year ago before turning 50? Fu Xingyue is 30 now, so her mother must have given birth before turning 20. That was during the strictest enforcement of the one-child policy and late marriage and childbirth—how could she have had a child before the legal marriage age?
A figure passing by the door interrupted her thoughts.
Diao Zhuo stood at the doorway, holding a bottle of wine in his left hand. With his right palm facing up, he curled his fingers inward in a gentle beckoning gesture.
Bayunye nodded solemnly. Today was the anniversary of the car accident—the day Diao Jun, Ba Xiye, and many others had died. Together, she and Diao Zhuo poured three cups of wine onto the ground and silently bowed toward the sky. Years had passed, and the grief was no longer as sharp as it once was, no longer even sorrowful—but the injustice of it all still lingered.
Earlier, the minibus, wobbling erratically as if struggling desperately, had swerved to avoid rear-ending the vehicle ahead. With a loud crash, it smashed through the low guardrail and, after several thunderous impacts, tumbled down the cliff. In the distance, the Nujiang River flowed murmuring and winding, flanked by towering, silent mountains that watched the tragic scene indifferently.
The minibus rolled over several times, its windows shattering. Some passengers were thrown out, screaming as they tumbled down, their cries fading even before they hit the ground. Suddenly, the minibus paused briefly on a protruding boulder, its body groaning heavily. Rocks of all sizes tumbled down from where it had overturned, rumbling and clattering, some striking the minibus with dull, grating thuds.
He Zhengren lay by the shattered guardrail, half his body dangling over the edge. He could clearly hear the panicked voices and cries from inside the minibus halfway down the mountain—men, women, the elderly, sobs and screams...
"Professor Rao!" he shouted, his voice sounding alien to his own ears. He couldn't see what was happening below, only hearing someone behind him pulling at him and saying, "If he dies, you'll finally get your chance!"
He Zhengren's mind went blank, vaguely recalling his peers' high praise for Rao Qinghui's academic achievements, and the national awards that had slipped through his own fingers.
After what felt like an eternity, the minibus swayed a few more times before finally plunging into the abyss.
"Professor Rao!!" He Zhengren cried out in horror.
"Heh, it's all over now," the person behind him said."No!!!" He Zhengren cried out, jolting awake from his nightmare, his leg throbbing faintly. All around was pitch black—no minibus, no mountains, no highway, and no trace of that year.
He sat bewildered in the darkness. Every year on this day, he would have such a nightmare—the anniversary of the deaths of many former colleagues, classmates, and students. Rao Qinghui, Diao Jun, Ba Xiye, Diao Zhuo, Bayunye… Over a dozen faces flashed through his mind, filling him with profound fear and resentment.
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