SA | Chapter 14

Luckily, I Have You

Gu Deng woke up because of an itch.

There was a light breeze on his face, like someone was tickling him with a feather.

He wanted to scratch it, but his hands were still tucked inside the sleeping bag.

So, Gu Deng could only wiggle to the side, causing the sleeping bag to rustle softly, warm and cozy, like it was pressing against someone’s body.

Gu Deng opened his eyes and was dumbfounded.

He was practically glued to Zhang Li, his head nestled against Zhang Li’s neck, and his body pressing against Zhang Li’s through the sleeping bag.

The thing that had tickled him awake was actually Zhang Li’s breath.

Gu Deng: “…”

He really wasn’t a very still sleeper, but once wrapped in a sleeping bag, even the most restless person has to behave.

And why is a mummy sleeping bag called a mummy?

Because it wraps you up tightly like a mummy.

Gu Deng was amazed that even with his hands and feet trapped, he could still wriggle over to Zhang Li like a worm.

It was all because of the cold weather.

Luckily, Zhang Li was still asleep.

Gu Deng moved away to create some distance, pretending nothing had happened.

He wanted to sleep a bit more, but the light outside the tent was already bright, and the cortisol in his body was gradually rising, pulling him out of sleep.

Unable to fall back asleep, Gu Deng simply stared at the tent lamp, marveling at the wonders of nature.

He used to suffer from insomnia night after night, but now, after just two days in the wild, his circadian rhythm was back on track.

He could fall asleep as soon as he lay down at night and wake up naturally before 6 a.m.

After a while, the alarm finally went off, and Gu Deng heard Zhang Li getting up.

Zhang Li put on his clothes and stuffed Gu Deng’s cold clothes into his own sleeping bag before bending over to leave the tent.

Gu Deng only put on his clothes and left the tent once they were warmed up.

It was still cloudy today, and with the strong wind, the temperature felt even lower. Gu Deng’s cheeks were exposed for less than a minute before they were frozen cold.

He went back into the tent to put on a face mask and came out to see Zhang Li returning to the camp with a bag of food.

It was still foggy today, but the visibility was slightly better. Gu Deng lit the stove, and Zhang Li dismantled the tent and packed their belongings. They drank coffee and ate sticky oatmeal in the morning mist before breaking camp and continuing over the mountains.

Today’s journey wasn’t easy either, mostly trekking through the woods. The skis were useless, so they had to put on crampons and walk.

The fatigue from yesterday’s journey hadn’t dissipated, and new lactic acid was accumulating in their muscles. The weight of the backpack and skis pulled Gu Deng down, forcing him to bend over to maintain balance.

And it was really cold. Only by moving could they barely maintain their body temperature. Once they stopped, their bodies quickly stiffened from the cold.

The forest they passed through was covered in snow and scattered rocks, with the occasional reindeer passing by, its fur dusted with white frost.

Just following along was exhausting for Gu Deng, let alone Zhang Li, who was leading the way. As the vanguard, Zhang Li had to judge the route, choose footholds, and avoid avalanches and hidden ice.

Watching Zhang Li’s figure, Gu Deng wanted to rest several times but ultimately didn’t call for a break.

They climbed over one hill, then descended, and climbed again… Lunch was just a simple snack, and they continued following the reindeer.

Once, Gu Deng was so exhausted he asked Zhang Li in frustration why the reindeer never seemed to rest. Zhang Li stopped and said they would rest for 20 minutes before continuing.

Gu Deng felt a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

Though he kind of did.

Zhang Li didn’t say anything else, just put down his bag and took out a camera, explaining as he attached the lens, “Although the exact reason is unknown, reindeer don’t follow the circadian rhythm during migration.”

Gu Deng understood circadian rhythm; simply put, it’s the biological clock, working at sunrise and resting at sunset. Most mammals in the world follow this pattern.

But reindeer don’t have to follow it? Gu Deng found it hard to believe. “Are you saying reindeer don’t sleep during migration?”

“Not entirely,” Zhang Li said. “Reindeer do take short breaks, but they only need a little sleep each day and spend most of their time migrating.”

Gu Deng finally understood and secretly hoped their journey wouldn’t be as relentless as the reindeer’s migration.

After a short rest, they continued their journey.

With some hot water and chocolate, Gu Deng’s body recovered a bit. But the higher they climbed, the colder it got, and the biting wind cut through him like a knife, making his snow goggles foggy.

Watching the blurry white shadows on his goggles, Gu Deng held his hand palm-up, and soon, a few white ice crystals appeared on his gloves—it was snowing.

Gu Deng was from the south, and even after moving to Beijing, he rarely saw snow. Snow was rare, and with the romantic portrayal in movies, he always got excited when it snowed, thinking it was a very romantic scene.

But snow being romantic only applied to city settings. In the wilderness, heavy snow could turn into a terrifying crisis.

It started as sparse flurries, and with visibility still decent and the journey halfway done, they decided to continue descending, aiming to camp on the plains.

It was still afternoon, but the weather was as dark as midnight, with the sky filled with dark clouds, signaling an impending blizzard.

They agreed not to lose sight of each other, as losing contact in such harsh weather could lead to a terrible crisis.

Gu Deng agreed but was a bit puzzled. “If we’re afraid of getting separated, why don’t we tie a climbing rope between us?”

He had seen climbers do this to ensure each other’s safety.

Zhang Li was also panting, his breath heavy as he said, “The forest terrain is complex, but there’s not much vertical drop, so the climbing rope offers limited protection. If one of us falls, it might trip the other, causing unnecessary danger. And most importantly, there are bears here; tying a rope isn’t good for escaping.”

Gu Deng was a bit scared, unable to speak for a while. He looked around warily, afraid of encountering a grizzly bear.

“Don’t worry too much,” Zhang Li added. “Even if there are bears, they’re unlikely to attack humans. They don’t like unfamiliar things, and reindeer are more to their taste.”

Gu Deng: “…”

That’s not exactly comforting news.

They trudged through the wind and snow, and though Gu Deng was initially a bit jumpy, he soon became so exhausted that his mind went blank, only mechanically pushing his body forward.

By now, he had to admit he had underestimated the difficulty of this trek. Yesterday’s thick fog made him anxious, but today’s blizzard could make him despair.

The fog was a fear of the unknown, more of a psychological terror. But the blizzard was a real threat, with strong winds, extreme cold, and thick snow hindering their progress.

Gu Deng followed Zhang Li with all his focus, occasionally losing sight of him due to the terrain or direction, which left him terrified until Zhang Li reappeared in his view, bringing him relief.

During one descent, due to poor visibility, Gu Deng lost sight of Zhang Li again.

He followed the tracks on the ground, but suddenly a shout came from ahead, “Stop.”

Gu Deng immediately stopped, his ski tail kicking up a spray of powder. He looked around but still couldn’t see Zhang Li. Following the tracks, he found a large mushroom-shaped snow mound pressed by the skis. Underneath the snow mound was a hidden river, and Zhang Li was hanging upside down in it. If it weren’t for the skis wedged against the rock wall, he would have fallen in completely.

The danger was so intense that Gu Deng didn’t even have time to take out his phone for a picture; he rushed over immediately.

He reached Zhang Li’s side, wanting to help but not daring to move the skis recklessly. Zhang Li, along with his gear, weighed 200 pounds, and Gu Deng wasn’t sure if he had the strength to pull him up.

Gu Deng could only lie next to him and ask, “Are you okay? How can I help you?”

“I’m fine,” Zhang Li’s voice came from the hidden river, sounding relatively calm. “Is there a tree nearby?”

“There is.”

“Take the climbing rope and tie a bowline knot around the tree.”

“Okay.” Gu Deng took off his skis and retrieved the climbing rope from his backpack.

Without needing Zhang Li’s instructions, Gu Deng understood what to do next. He tied the knot around the tree, attached a carabiner to the other end of the rope, and threw it into the hole.

The first thing to come up was the backpack. Gu Deng dragged it up and threw the rope back in.

Zhang Li wasn’t wearing a harness, so the carabiner was useless. He had to grab the rope with one hand, loop it around, and then had Gu Deng take an ice axe from his bag.

Gu Deng handed the ice axe to Zhang Li and asked if there was anything else he could do.

Zhang Li caught the ice axe and looked up. Gu Deng was half-kneeling by the hidden river, looking anxious, with most of his body leaning out. Thinking he hadn’t heard, Gu Deng even asked again.

It would be better to remove the skis first so he could use his feet for leverage. But removing the skis might cause Gu Deng to fall in. Zhang Li shook his head, grabbed the rope with his left hand, fixed the ice axe into the ice wall with his right, and then released the ski bindings upside down.

Gu Deng quickly collected the skis, and soon Zhang Li climbed out on his own.

Gu Deng, still shaken, asked how the accident happened.

Zhang Li said, “I encountered a reindeer and changed paths temporarily, not realizing there was a hidden river under the snow mound.”

Gu Deng nodded, relieved. “As long as you’re okay.”

Zhang Li sincerely thanked him, “Thank you, luckily I have you.”

Gu Deng was taken aback, suddenly recalling the argument he had with Zhang Li yesterday.

He used to think freedom meant being unrestrained, able to do whatever he wanted. So he left everything behind and came to the remote heart of Alaska, yet he still wasn’t free.

He hated rules, seeing them as restrictions, and didn’t like being watched all the time because it felt like he wasn’t trusted.

But he couldn’t deny that when he lost his way in the fog and heard Zhang Li say, “I can see you,” he felt a sense of reassurance.

When he successfully rescued Zhang Li, ensuring his safety, a sense of joy welled up in his heart.

He realized that freedom wasn’t such a straightforward thing.

“Zhang Li.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry for losing my temper at you yesterday.”

Zhang Li had finished gearing up and was putting on his snow goggles. Hearing this, he paused and looked down at Gu Deng.

He looked for a long time, so long that Gu Deng had to ask, “What’s wrong?”

Only then did Zhang Li cover his eyes with the goggles and say, “I was at fault too. I was too eager and didn’t consider your feelings.”

Gu Deng had been a bit upset, but hearing Zhang Li say this, all his anger dissipated. He waved his hand generously, “Forget it, I understand now. After all, if you’re not careful, things can really go wrong.”

Zhang Li thanked him again.

Gu Deng snorted, a look of pride on his face, “What would you do without me?”

Zhang Li nodded, “I couldn’t manage on my own.”

Gu Deng thought Zhang Li was exaggerating. With Zhang Li’s skills and experience, he would surely find a way out, though it might be troublesome. But he couldn’t deny that he felt appreciated, not just a burden, not entirely useless.

“As long as you know.” Gu Deng put his hands on his hips, chest puffed out, looking like a proud long-tailed tit.