Chapter 119

Published: July 14, 2026 | By SpringDay

Chapter 119: A pure white Arctic wolf, almost blending into the snowy landscape, barged into the frame.

Losing the livestream device wasn’t the scary part.

The scary part was having absolutely no idea where it had been lost.

And in the current conditions—with wind and snow strong enough to force open a door—even if the device got launched like a bullet, it’d never find its way back.

Lin Qianyu opened her phone. The upgraded system could locate the livestream device.

But right now, there wasn’t a single marker on the virtual map.

“Weird…” Lin Qianyu opened the movement history of the device and saw that the path was extremely erratic. It would suddenly retreat after moving forward, then spin and dart side to side, like a ball being kicked around.

Just watching the little white dot jumping all over the movement track made Lin Qianyu feel dizzy.

Until ten minutes ago, when that white dot seemed to crash into something and instantly vanished from the map.

Lin Qianyu guessed, “The tracker probably got smashed.”

The more advanced a device is, the more fragile it tends to be. Even with reinforced protection, it didn’t change the fact that it could easily break.

Lin Qianyu opened the livestream room. The feed was still fairly stable, which meant the self-cleaning function was still working—otherwise, there was no way the video would be this clear.

It seemed like the device had been blown to a high place and gotten stuck somewhere, resulting in a very steady shooting angle.

Lin Qianyu cleared her throat and said, “Blizzards are also one of Polar Island’s major attractions. Since we can’t retrieve the livestream device for now, let’s just make do and enjoy the view.”

【Sure, sure, you’re sitting at home cuddling all the fluffballs while leaving us out here in the freezing snow.】

【The affection has faded! Faded!!!】

【Losing the livestream device is a tradition on every island. New viewers, don’t panic—let us veteran fans complain first.】

“I’m watching too.” Lin Qianyu opened the livestream on her phone, took a bowl, flipped it over to use as a stand against the ice wall, and propped her phone against the base. “You don’t get to see snowstorms this massive outside. Look at those snowflakes—they’re almost as big as the lens.”

However much Lin Qianyu praised the scenery, the comment section still overflowed with resentment.

Cuddling with a pile of fluffballs inside versus watching the snow outside—which one was better? The audience didn’t even need to think before picking the former.

Lin Qianyu slid her finger across the screen and messaged the director to ask, “What’s the best way to find it?”

There was only one livestream device—no backup. Even if it was too dangerous to go out now, once the blizzard passed, she’d have to retrieve it eventually.

Su Yuxing: 【I’ll have logistics try a remote reboot. It’ll take about 12–24 hours.】

Lin Qianyu: 【Okay.】

Su Yuxing: 【Don’t go outside in a blizzard. Even if the device comes back online, don’t recklessly go into unknown areas to retrieve it. Safety comes first.】

Perhaps because Lin Qianyu had chased danger on every island, Su Yuxing couldn’t help but say a few more words, considering how deadly the blizzard could be.

The extreme weather on Rainforest Island and Grassland Island couldn’t compare to what Polar Island could unleash.

Going outside and ending up as an ice sculpture wasn’t a joke. Frostbite was far worse than most people imagined.

In the chat box, Lin Qianyu made all kinds of promises and oaths to Director Su, vowing she absolutely wouldn’t go out in a blizzard to look for the device. Only then did she close the chat.

Though the livestream fans were full of complaints, they also knew how dangerous the blizzard was. Their teasing was just talk—no one actually pressured Lin Qianyu to go retrieve the device immediately.Lin Qianyu stirred the formula in her hand. The warm milk cooled quickly after snow was added. She watched the snow drifting across the livestream. “Having a fixed position might actually be good—maybe it’ll catch some of the other fluffballs on Polar Island.”

From the livestream feed, the location looked completely unfamiliar.

That gust of wind must’ve blown the device pretty far.

“There don’t seem to be that many small animals on Polar Island.” Especially after just leaving Grassland Island, where many animals roamed in herds—fluffy heads crowding together, and lots of young ones, too.

In comparison, the small animals on Polar Island were much fewer.

Maybe because of the cold, no one liked being outside.

The livestream device was in a high position now; it might actually catch something interesting.

Lin Qianyu poured the prepared milk into small bowls, and filled a separate bottle. “Alright, come drink your formula.”

She lined the bowls up on the table. The little snow leopard shook its fur, sniffed the milk, and licked its lips.

The Arctic fox sat off to one side, its fluffy tail curled around in front of it, the tip resting gently beside its bowl.

The little spotted seal couldn’t get up on the table and called out in distress, “Ah! Awoo!”

It kept trying to jump, but just didn’t have the strength to get up on its own.

Lin Qianyu had just finished placing the bowls when she saw it nearly crash into the wall. She quickly scooped it up and placed it on the table. “One bowl each, take your time. There’s more when you’re done.”

There was still plenty of undiluted formula in the container.

She mixed it fresh as they drank—if they drank slower, maybe it would cool on its own and she wouldn’t have to add more snow.

Lin Qianyu shook the bottle in her hand. “This one’s for Xuetuan.”

“Woo?” The polar bear didn’t even open its eyes. Half-asleep, it responded with a soft grunt when it heard its name.

“Time for something yummy.” Lin Qianyu softened her voice, smiling as she crouched beside it, holding the bottle to the polar bear’s mouth. “Want a taste?”

It was hard for the polar bear to drink from a bowl in such a cramped space. But it could hold the bottle itself—gripping it with its paw, tilting its head to drink. It wouldn’t mess up its fur and was much more convenient.

Half-asleep, the polar bear took a sip and slowly opened its eyes. “Awoo…”

“Mm, it’s all ready.” Lin Qianyu rubbed its head and left the bottle with it.

A large polar bear using something so small and cute—it looked oddly adorable.

Lin Qianyu picked up her phone and, smiling, snapped a photo of the scene. The smartwatch hadn’t been able to capture it before, so she made up for it now, taking a few extra shots.

She’d set one up for the little bear back home too—for drinking sweet water.

【I just heard the camera shutter.】

【So… what are you secretly photographing, Lin-jie? Hand over the pictures and no one gets hurt!】

【I can’t fall asleep to fluffballs tonight… sob sob, my happiness is gone. Do you know how traumatic this is for a 288-month-old baby?】

After photographing the polar bear, Lin Qianyu turned to get shots of the little snow leopard and Arctic fox.

She wanted to snap a few of the little spotted seal too, but… seeing its head buried deep in the bowl, Lin Qianyu gave it a try anyway.

Hmm… it looked nice, but it was kind of hard to tell what animal it was.Lin Qianyu swiped through the photos, “I’ve uploaded them to the streamer feed.”

She’d thought about posting them on Weibo, but Weibo as a platform might be against the program rules.

The streamer feed belonged to the livestream room; you could access it by clicking her profile picture. It was a rule-compliant way for the host to interact with fans.

After uploading the photos, Lin Qianyu held her phone and hesitated for a moment, then opened the program group chat and scrolled up through the messages.

Guests who had been outside, once they noticed the worsening weather, were hurrying back.

Once they returned to the shelter, they replied in the group as well—but Feng Jingye, from start to finish, hadn’t even sent a single punctuation mark.

Lin Qianyu messaged him privately: 【Are you back yet?】

Feeling that the message might seem a bit odd, she added another: 【Are you safe right now?】

Feng Jingye: 【saf】 — it seemed like a rushed typo, as the message was quickly withdrawn and re-sent as: 【Safe.】

【What’s wrong? Are you stuck outside? I’ll come find you.】

Before Lin Qianyu could even type, message notifications started dinging nonstop.

Feng Jingye sent a string of messages.

Lin Qianyu quickly replied: 【No need, I’m in the shelter. I just saw you hadn’t replied in the group, so I wanted to check if you needed help.】

【I was asleep and didn’t see it.】 That message came through just as he finally replied in the group chat as well.

In the group chat, Su Yuxing: 【Finally a reply. I sent you 99+ messages and didn’t get a single word back—I was about to call the rescue station.】

Feng Jingye explained: 【I was asleep and didn’t check my phone.】

Lin Qianyu sent a few more replies, then closed the chat—only to look up and find the polar bear right next to her, seriously staring at her phone screen.

Thinking of the strange magnetic pull Feng Jingye seemed to have on the polar bear, Lin Qianyu raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You can even sense that I’m chatting with Feng Jingye?”

“Awuu?” The polar bear blinked, clearly not understanding what she meant, but it accurately picked up on the key word in her sentence. The moment that person’s name was mentioned, it roared at full volume: “ROAR—!”

Lin Qianyu: “……”

Okay, maybe she was overthinking it.

Maybe Xuetuan was just curious about her typing—and how words appeared on the screen after her fingers touched it.

“Good boy.” Lin Qianyu reached out and stroked the polar bear’s head, smoothing down its fur.

“Woo…” The polar bear sat down beside her, turning to rest its head on her hand.

Its fluffy head completely covered the phone, not leaving even a sliver of space.

Even the glow from the screen was completely blocked.

No. Peeking.

The polar bear was quite skilled in the way it pressed down—blocking the screen while making sure not to squish Lin Qianyu’s hand.

“No more chatting.” Lin Qianyu curled her finger and scratched gently down the bear’s neck. “Let’s play something else. We’ve got time to kill anyway.”

“Wooo…” The polar bear tilted its head back, squinting contentedly.Lin Qianyu half-embraced and picked it up, then turned her phone to landscape mode in front of the polar bear. “Let’s watch the livestream together for a bit.”

The polar bear tilted its head and rested it on her shoulder. “Wuu!”

The snowstorm outside hadn’t lessened. The livestream’s audio was connected to the phone or smartwatch linked to the broadcast equipment, and now that she was inside the igloo shelter, most of the wind noise was blocked.

But paired with the snowy visuals on screen, it still gave off a chilling, bone-deep coldness.

The scene didn’t change, but the polar bear suddenly squinted its eyes and leaned in toward the phone screen.

“Hm? What is it?” Noticing its odd expression, like it was staring at something very cautiously, Lin Qianyu nudged the phone closer. “Did you see something?”

“Rrgh!” The polar bear stared for a while. Once it confirmed what it was, it quickly lost interest, licked its lips, and rested its head back on her shoulder.

A dog!

“This is the place where you caught freshwater fish, right?” If it could connect what it saw to a “dog,” then it could only be referring to the freshwater area where they fished last time.

They’d been too busy stockpiling food for the blizzard to go back and wander near that freshwater spot.

No wonder she didn’t recognize the scenery—it turned out the livestream device had really been blown far away, to somewhere she’d never even set foot in before.

But a dog—and a white dog at that…

Lin Qianyu leaned in closer, trying to make out something in the 1080P60 original-quality livestream, but all she could see was drifting snowflakes.

“A white dog is…”

Before she could finish, a pure white Arctic wolf—its color nearly blending perfectly with the snow—rushed into frame.

Author’s note: No bonus chapter today, just this one. The plot continues into the next chapter, so I wrote this one a bit longer.

Goodnight, sleep early, love you all.

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