Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Qu Yixian was initially stunned, but after thinking it through, she felt a sense of relief.

The disappearance of Jiang Yuan had struck her like the end of the world at the time. The composure and heroic air she now carried had been forged through relentless trials back then, forged from sheer survival.

When pushed to the brink, she was not without moments of psychological darkness. She had hated Qu Jingyuan for his lack of responsibility, for failing to fulfill his duties as a father.

Even four years later, she still remembered the slap Qu Jingyuan had given her at the camp, the look of disgust like a brand burned into her heart, unforgettable for a lifetime.

She had also blamed herself. Every midnight when she dreamed of the night Jiang Yuan disappeared, she consciously tried to patch up the regrets. If she hadn’t suffered from altitude sickness, if she had been more alert that night, if she had stayed with Jiang Yuan, would those accidents have never happened?

But when she awoke, the northwest wind and sand outside the tent pushed her back to reality, like the summoning music of spirits.

Jiang Yuan was like a soft thorn, taking root in Qu Yixian’s heart—soft yet resilient. She thought it would always remain soft, harmless, but whenever she let her guard down, its sharpness was like a drawn sword, the edge able to pierce her effortlessly.

Later, she found an outlet for her anger.

She vented her anger on the Sonam Daje Protection Station, on the operator that night. Even if this venting didn’t solve the problem, her pent-up resentment found a place to land, like dying once and coming back to life.

She no longer had to walk along cliffs on a suspended rope.

Look, there was someone who put all the ugliness of human nature on their face. She had only accidentally lost Jiang Yuan; getting him back would suffice.

She returned from Nanjiang to the northwest and joined Peng Shen’s convoy.

Once she quickly established herself within the convoy, she began to inquire about the staff who had answered the call that night at the Sonam Daje Protection Station.

However, all the clues stopped at the volunteer list that didn’t include Fu Xun.

For all those years she had been haunted, “Who was he?” was like ink dropped into clear water, gradually forming a knot in her heart. So when Qu Yixian discovered that Fu Xun was that operator, she retained hostility toward him, with suspicion and trust carefully reserved.

She didn’t want to hear any explanation or secret from him. Subjectively, she had long since lost complete trust in Fu Xun.

Until this moment, she realized that Fu Xun knew her inside and out.

He had many chances to explain, for example, the night in Dunhuang when he welcomed Peng Shen. Peng Shen had revealed that Fu Xun was the volunteer she had been searching for all those years. After she turned and left, Fu Xun followed her from the Star-Picking Tower to the small supermarket.

That night, at any moment, would have been the best opportunity to resolve the conflict. Yet Fu Xun only offered one explanation, and it was only to ease her hostility toward him at the time.

Today, she was clearly trying to evade his questions, looking for random ways to deflect him, and he chose to lay everything out.

Fu Xun knew she was extremely calm and rational now and could handle it.

Even if she didn’t believe him, ten kilometers ahead was the Sonam Daje Protection Station, ready to confirm everything.

He timed it perfectly—not abrupt, not careless. Even so, it made Qu Yixian feel a little moved that “he actually cared about this small matter.”

Looking closely, Fu Xun’s role was the least significant in the whole Jiang Yuan disappearance. He received the call for help, drove out to search, and followed standard procedures—nothing wrong.

Pan Sheng didn’t take it seriously, handled it roughly—at most dereliction of duty, negligence in office.

No one was truly guilty.

What she had been dwelling on was not the lack of timely assistance from the Sonam Daje Protection Station, but the volunteer’s perfunctory behavior during her most helpless night.

But today, in the complete story—on that night when she was most helpless—there was one person on the same side as her.

Regardless of gain or loss, cause or effect, that alone was enough to give her peace of mind.

Outside the car, Jiang Yun, seeing something, turned excitedly and shouted to Yuan Ye.

The car had stopped a bit away from the viewing platform. Qu Yixian couldn’t hear the sound, only saw Jiang Yun jumping and pointing into the distance. When she laughed with her face turned sideways, the scheming, sinister expression was gone, replaced with sunlight and liveliness.

Perhaps influenced by Jiang Yun, Qu Yixian lifted the corners of her lips and said: “Before the rescue team was officially established, the convoy also did rescues. No equipment, no rescue force—everything relied on one off-road group. Wherever a vehicle got stuck, coordinates were shared, and the nearest convoy vehicle went for rescue. After I joined the convoy and worked for a few months, the rescue team got investment and was officially registered.”

Qu Yixian turned her face, her eyes bright, lips smiling: “Those without money, like me, only punish themselves when making amends. Those with money, like you, when making amends, end up troubling others. After Xinghui was registered, do you know how busy the work became?”

He didn’t have time to think.

Fu Xun had been waiting for her reaction, like waiting for a verdict, listening to her words carefully, afraid of missing a single word and misunderstanding her.

Usually, someone could be made to fall hard with just a casual scheme, yet he was silent, still, and impossibly calm.

“Xinghui, no matter what your original intention was, it exists in the northwest as the faith of those who are lost. In these years, the rescues it participated in have successfully saved countless families. It is your great merit.” Qu Yixian took the cigarette case from his hand, pulled out a cigarette, and put it in her mouth. When she looked up, the light in her eyes was scattered like stars in the galaxy: “Fu Xun, let this be the boundary between us. We are even.”

She fished a lighter from the door groove, trying to light her cigarette. The first strike didn’t catch, only sparking a few embers.

She didn’t believe in bad luck and tried again.

Fu Xun chuckled, his laughter low and deep, strikingly sharp.

He looked up, meeting Qu Yixian’s eyes for a few seconds. Then he lowered his gaze, brought the lighter close to the cigarette in her mouth, and with a flick of the spark, the cigarette lit.

Fu Xun released his hand.

Once the weight in his heart lifted, his voice relaxed, lazy: “The last one, no more after this.”

Qu Yixian reacted for a moment before realizing what “the last one” meant. She held the cigarette, and in the curling smoke, her gaze collided with Fu Xun’s in midair.

She felt like laughing.

The scene, the atmosphere—it really felt like a grand reconciliation of the century.

Thinking about it, Xinghui having its success today couldn’t be separated from her. Fu Xun giving advice wasn’t excessive.

With that thought, Qu Yixian felt an inexplicable sense of relief.

She tried to hold it in but couldn’t, lowering her head to laugh softly, a gentle smile forming on her lips.

After a long while, Qu Yixian nodded and said, “Alright, the last one.”

——

After finishing her cigarette, Jiang Yun and Yuan Ye returned.

She rolled down the window to air out the smell and saw Jiang Yun holding her camera, looking at the photos, and asked casually, “Did you get anything?”

“Tibetan antelopes,” Jiang Yun said, her tone betraying excitement. “Also wild yaks and wild donkeys.”

Qu Yixian responded perfunctorily, “Then you’re lucky. You saw everything there was to see.”

“Ah?” Jiang Yun asked. “What couldn’t be seen?”

“Vultures, golden eagles, snow leopards. It’s not that they can’t be seen, just the chances are very small.” Qu Yixian pointed to a distant structure that looked like a utility pole: “See that? That’s called a perch scaffold, for vultures to rest on.”

Jiang Yun leaned toward the window in the direction Qu Yixian indicated to look.

Fu Xun turned the steering wheel, bringing the car from the gravel road back onto asphalt, continuing toward the Sonam Daje Nature Reserve. This was also their last stop in Kekexili today.

Jiang Yun, still looking out the window, exclaimed, tugging on Yuan Ye’s sleeve: “Yuan Ye, look! Are those tracks along the road tire marks?”

Yuan Ye, who had finally found a signal and was replying to messages, turned to see and nodded: “Yeah.”

“I thought they said Kekexili wasn’t open for crossing anymore, but these tire marks look pretty fresh,” Jiang Yun murmured twice, and seeing no one responded, leaned toward the front seat and asked Qu Yixian: “Qu Jie, can’t we go inside Kekexili?”

Qu Yixian kept her eyes on the road, not turning her head: “Go in for what?”

Jiang Yun was stumped, a little unhappy: “Others can go in, why can’t we? It’s close to the snow mountains inside; the scenery must be better than by the roadside.”

This time Qu Yixian looked at her properly, a playful glint at the corner of her mouth, and said: “Alright, if you want to go in, first get a pass. No pass means illegal crossing; if caught, severe punishment.”

Her smile faded as she asked Jiang Yun: “Wanna try?”

Jiang Yun was silenced by her words, chest feeling like a heavy stone, frustrated.

She sat back in the rear seat in a huff, tugged Yuan Ye, and whispered: “Yuan Ye, do you know why Kekexili didn’t need passes before, but now it’s illegal without one?”

“Danger,” Yuan Ye, dizzy from the slope, ignored his phone, and said slowly: “Kekexili in Tibetan is called Aqing Gongjia, King of Ten Thousand Mountains. It’s the world’s third-largest uninhabited area, China’s fifty-first world heritage site. Average altitude five thousand meters, human forbidden zone, get it?”

Qu Yixian quietly pricked up her ears, listening.

“If you want to enter Kekexili, you first need approval from the administration. Then form a convoy, hire professional guides, otherwise, don’t even think about crossing—you’ll risk your life. There’s no signal here, so besides preparing professional equipment, you have to watch out for Kekexili’s wildlife treating you as food. Nowadays, anything that isn’t human is more valuable than humans. You must avoid being eaten yourself and avoid harming the highland creatures.” Yuan Ye, seeing the Sonam Daje Protection Station not far ahead, signaled Jiang Yun: “See the protection station?”

Jiang Yun: “I see it.”

Yuan Ye, trying to scare her: “These protection stations all have watchtowers. Patrollers sit there with guns. Anyone disobedient? One shot, one person.”

Jiang Yun shivered from the scare, face pale.

Qu Yixian curved her lips and smiled.

This little brother was worth raising after all.

Fu Xun stopped the car in front of the protection station.

After turning off the engine, he pulled up the handbrake and said, “We’re here.”