From humble beginnings to the pinnacle of life

I thought Su Qing would be the same as before, having some complaints about Wang Ge.

After all, she still harbored resentment towards Wang Ge for turning back halfway through their previous trip to the no-man's-land.

But this time, she nodded in agreement without hesitation.

She looked at me intently and said clearly, "Wang Ge is actually the most suitable candidate. He has ample experience in wilderness survival and is very adaptable. Moreover, if the cooperation goes smoothly, we can definitely bring him into the company and make him our exclusive outdoor adventure broadcaster."

I shook my head with a smile and said, "You're overthinking it. It's basically impossible. You know him well. Let alone being a full-time streamer, he's extremely resistant to even appearing on camera occasionally."

Su Qing pouted slightly and retorted defiantly, "You haven't even asked him yourself, how can you be so sure he won't agree? People change, maybe his thoughts are different now."

I was slightly taken aback, looking at her with some surprise: "Didn't you always reject him? How come you approve of him so much now?"

Su Qing rolled her eyes at me and said frankly, "I just didn't like his quiet personality before, it was too oppressive to be around him, but that doesn't mean I deny his professional abilities. In the field of outdoor adventure, experience and composure are more important than anything else, and in this respect, Brother Wang is absolutely reliable."

I understood perfectly; Su Qing's words were exceptionally insightful.

When we went to the no-man's-land, Wang Ge chose to turn back in Lhasa, and I never blamed him.

Exploration is about acting within one's capabilities; knowing when to retreat is not cowardice, but rather the most rational choice.

He doesn't need to risk his life for the sake of so-called popularity or favors.

I stopped hesitating and immediately nodded, making up my mind: "Okay, I'll listen to you. I'll go to his shop tomorrow and ask him what he thinks."

As soon as I finished speaking, my phone vibrated slightly in my pocket.

I instinctively reached for my phone, and a slight thought crossed my mind the moment the screen lit up.

I've set privacy settings for private messages on my short video platform; only mutual followers can trigger notifications.

Aside from acquaintances, the only person she maintained private communication with was the seriously ill boy.

I quickly opened the private message page, but when I saw the text on the screen, my blood seemed to turn cold instantly, and I froze on the spot.

The private message was simple and unadorned, without any fancy words, but between the lines it was filled with extreme restraint and helplessness.

"Hello, young man. I'm the mother of the child you used to chat with often. My child passed away this afternoon."

Those few words felt like a heavy block of ice, crashing down on my heart.

I was completely stunned, my mind went blank for a moment, and the world seemed to fall silent.

During this time, I was mentally prepared, knowing that his condition was critical and that he probably wouldn't last much longer.

But when that day actually came, I was still caught off guard and couldn't accept it calmly at all.

He was only eighteen years old.

It is the most vibrant and passionate age.

They should have been venturing into the mountains and seas, living life to the fullest.

But he was trapped by illness and exhausted all his strength.

I was originally full of anticipation, hoping that once I set off on the Terra route, I would start a live broadcast throughout the entire journey, so that he could see with his own eyes the vast highland wilderness and expansive landscapes that he had been longing for.

But he never got to see that day.

The boy who had countless times dreamed of packing his bags and heading to distant places, yearning for the free wilderness, the boy who was tormented by illness day and night but still did not want to burden his family, ultimately could not survive this long and cruel illness.

I suppressed the turmoil in my heart and slowly lowered my gaze to see the text message sent by his mother.

"The child passed away peacefully, without suffering too much. Before he left, he kept repeating your name and specifically asked me to personally hand over something to you. He said it was the most important thing he had ever wanted in his life, and it wouldn't be complete until he gave it to you in person."

Seeing this, I slowly closed my eyes.

I felt a stinging sensation in my nose, a tightness in my chest, and even breathing felt heavy and painful.

When I met him before, we made an agreement that before he left, his parents would give me something, which I had to hand over in person.

I had a vague feeling that this was a gentle lie he had deliberately woven.

He didn't have any treasured memories to give me; he just wanted to give his parents something to live on, to leave them something to look forward to.

He used his last bit of tenderness to pave the way for his parents' future, so that they would still have something to care about after he left, and wouldn't completely collapse.

The moment I understood all of this, an overwhelming sense of bitterness and shock completely overwhelmed me.

At the tender age of eighteen, he suffered terribly from illness, but in his last moments, he did not complain about the injustice of fate. Instead, he used his last bit of strength to protect his family.

Too many adults in this world only know how to make a living and plan their own way out when faced with problems.

But this boy, on the verge of death, carefully created a final haven of peace for those behind him at the very end of his life.

The cold light from the phone screen quietly reflected in my eyes.

That brief private message captured the short yet tender life of a young boy.

My finger hovered above the screen for a long time, but in the end I couldn't type anything, nor did I dare to reply.

I cannot simply offer a word of condolence, nor can I rashly inquire about the details, much less offer any deliberate words of comfort.

Any unnecessary response from me would shatter his carefully crafted final act of tenderness.

All I can do is remain silent and not respond.

This is the best I can give to him and his parents.

I slowly turned off my phone screen, exhaled a heavy breath of pent-up frustration, and lit another cigarette.

The fireworks flickered on and off, but they couldn't dispel the melancholy in my heart.

No one knew that this ordinary and unremarkable evening was just the beginning.

A young man with a heart full of love for mountains and seas and a yearning for freedom bid farewell forever to the world he loved, and to the wilderness and starry sky that he spent his entire life trying to reach but never got to see.

His final gift to this world was not the scars of illness, nor endless regrets.

Rather, it is the ultimate gentleness and kindness that penetrates suffering and heals the human heart.

Noticing my sudden drop in mood, Su Qing, who was beside me, quickly leaned closer and asked with concern, "What's wrong? You look so pale. What happened?"

I turned to look at her worried expression, my throat tightened, and I slowly spoke:

"The boy who always chatted with me and longed for the mountains and fields... is gone."

The moment those words were spoken, Su Qing froze, and the light in her eyes gradually dimmed.

Although she had never met the boy, I had often told her about his experiences and obsessions these past few days, and she had silently kept them in her heart, hoping to meet him soon.

But in the end, we still missed each other.

After a long silence, she sighed softly, "Life is so unpredictable. He was so young, so full of love for life and yearning for distant places, yet he suffered so much from illness. Why him of all people? A villain like Fang Heng, who would stop at nothing, gets to live a carefree life."

I looked up at the completely dark sky outside the window, and after a long while, I sighed softly, "Perhaps, this is the helpless fate of ordinary people."

Su Qing silently got up, gently wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, and rested her chin tenderly on my shoulder, quietly keeping me company as we gazed out the window at the deep night.

She didn't say another word of comfort, she just held me quietly.