Mao Ce hurriedly closed his mouth, looked at Liu Qing, whose body was shrunk in the concave wall below, his cheeks twitched twice, and he felt a little angry and cerebral hemorrhage, thinking that you are a little bastard, you dare to scold the old man's halazi for being bird droppings, wouldn't the old man's mouth become a ......!

Thinking of this, Mao Ce cursed secretly, a strange look shot out of his eyes, and he retreated into the fog halfway up the mountain again.

Liu Qing glanced at the palm stained with mucus, smacked twice on the stone wall, plugged the mouth of the wine gourd and tied it to his waist, and roughly calculated the height of Moon Peak in his heart, a wry smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and he sang Dongfanghong in his throat, and continued to climb the mountain.

As the night passed, a piece of white rag flew up from Mochizuki Peak and flew into the distance with the wind.

Two days passed, and two open-mouthed tourist shoes fell from Mochizuki Peak and lay quietly at the foot of the mountain.

As the three days passed, the singing began to become intermittent, hoarse and hoarse like a broken gong that had been smashed.

On the evening of the fourth day, in the fog that filled the mountainside of Mochizuki Peak, there was a sigh of happiness.

A trembling figure, lying on its stomach like a cramping cat, lying limply on a crooked pine, grinning and panting, the crunching sound of the thick arm of the tree being pressed, may break at any time.

Looking at the two bloodstained feet, Liu Qing didn't even dare to let go of the fart that he had been holding for a long time, for fear that he would accidentally break the rod under him and die young and disappear from the world.

For four days, Liu Qing always felt that in the dark, there was a pair of eyes staring at him, but whether it was day or dark, there was not even a trace of sound in the dead silence around him, only gusts of cold wind blowing from his body, which made him creepy.

In the fog where he couldn't see his fingers, Liu Qing looked at the pine tree that was pressed into a question mark, a miserable smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and he tore off his shirt that was broken into sacks and threw it at his feet, and began to climb towards the peak.

On the night of the fifth day, Liu Qing only had a briefs left on his body, and the rest of his clothes, including climbing tools, were all thrown down the mountain as a burden, and even the wine gourd on his waist disappeared at some point.

Liu Qing touched the two holes on the head of his pants, and even had the heart to cry at this time, thinking that if he continued like this, even if he could climb to the top of the mountain, he would become the first person in the fantasy world to run naked, this person was really thrown into the sky, but I don't know if there are fairies in the sky who will peek.

On the platform at the summit of Mochizuki Peak, the bright moonlight dyed the snow on the platform a silvery white, and the temperature had reached more than minus 50 degrees.

Mao Ce cautiously raised his head, looked at the starry sky above his head, slipped to the corner of the platform like a thief, took out the wine gourd he had just acquired, and his eyes flashed a layer of green light.

Time passed slowly in pain, looking at the peak not far above, the distance that Liu Qing wanted to move a finger became so difficult, so far away.

Liu Qing's strength has already been exhausted, and he was able to climb to this position by relying on tenacious perseverance and hope for survival.

In order to be able to see the sun tomorrow morning, Liu Qing almost used the strength to feed.

With every breath and a slight movement, the flesh and blood that had been rubbed against the stone wall, hands and feet were blurred, and the blood beads turned dry black and purple along the mountain wall......