The air was thin, and every breath felt insufficient.
The wind carried ice particles, continuously whipping around.
The sun hung in the sky, its light bright but not warm. There was no sound around, only the wind, making it feel especially empty and quiet.
Ding Rui felt that he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat. At this moment, he was following Li Younan, stepping deeply and shallowly on the thick snow as they descended the mountain. His gaze was on Li Younan—there was no doubt that this man was his true savior. Without Li Younan, he would have inevitably met his fate as a corpse on this snowy mountain.
And at this moment, Li Younan acted as if he had merely helped an elderly lady cross the road, picked up a badminton shuttlecock stuck in a tree for a naughty kid, or casually picked up trash for a street-cleaning auntie. His demeanor was nonchalant, with not a ripple in his heart. Ding Rui was still carrying Li Younan's oxygen cylinder.
