Shen Le's complacent satisfaction lasted only until he reached the foot of the snowy mountain.
He wore a one-piece hard-shell climbing suit capable of withstanding temperatures of minus forty degrees Celsius. He had climbing boots on his feet, with crampons firmly secured to them.
A huge mountaineering pack hung from his back, filled with food, water, a stove, and gas canisters. Ice axes, crampons, a harness, and ascenders were crammed onto the outside of the pack.
Even so, the two young men from the Special Affairs Bureau were still desperately piling more weight onto him:
"Take this tent too! What if you run into a narrow stretch where your house can't unfold? A tent can help block the wind!"
On Shen Le's wrist, the bead-sized Huang Yutong bounced twice, nearly snapping free of its string to leap up and hit him. Shen Le hurriedly pressed down on the bracelet.
"I know, I know. Huang Yutong, you're the best. Even if you only unfold to a square foot, you can still take me in. Don't be angry—we won't get angry, okay?"
He communicated with her in his mind. The two young men could not hear a thing; they could only see that his expression looked rather strange, as if his face were twitching nonstop. They exchanged a glance, decided to ignore it, and continued adding to Shen Le's burden.
"Take this oxygen tank too! It could save your life at a critical moment! I know you can control wind, but what if your mental strength gets exhausted up there and you end up muddleheaded?"
Inside the ancient residence, Lan Zhuang indignantly flashed with multicolored light, gathering a wisp of wind that circled the courtyard three times.
*Shen Le will still have me when his energy runs out! Me! What's so hard