Chapter 1

As a specially invited photographer for the magazine Native Geographic, I was assigned to shoot a cover at Mount Morac. We hadn't even climbed halfway when I started feeling out of breath and lightheaded. My temples throbbed violently. I immediately realized it was altitude sickness, so I hurriedly pulled out my backup oxygen canister, taking a deep breath. But the moment the gas entered my lungs, I knew something was wrong. I turned to my fiance beside me. "Julian Gray, what is this?" The instant I spoke, my voice came out shrill and warped. I sounded like a duck from the cartoons. The sound sent Julian and his junior, Bianca Reed, into fits of laughter. "Quack! You sound like a duck! Oh, my God! I'm dying from laughter!" They laughed so hard they doubled over; Bianca even started pounding the snow dramatically. In that instant, I understood. To prank me, they had secretly swapped my life-saving oxygen for helium. When they finally laughed themselves out, I forced out the words, "Oxygen… Give me… the backup oxygen…" He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, Bia's weak, so I gave all the backup oxygen to her. You're strong. Just tough it out." I didn't argue. With trembling hands, I pulled out my satellite phone. "Mr. Perez, my backup oxygen has been maliciously replaced. I'm experiencing severe altitude sickness. Please arrange an emergency rescue team immediately." Just as I finished, the satellite phone was snatched from my hand. Julian stared at the already-sent distress signal. His cheeks flushed with anger before he let out a scornful laugh. "Oh, Vivian Brooke, the great photographer, aren't you being a bit dramatic? It was just a little helium. Are you calling rescue over a little joke like this? "Do you have any idea how long this shoot took to prepare? You can't even handle a little reaction from the altitude?" He lifted his arm, pretending he was about to fling the satellite phone into a nearby crevasse. The splitting headache and nausea from the altitude sickness made my vision go blurry. I grabbed Julian's wrist with all my remaining strength. Both he and Bianca were wearing oxygen masks, carrying plenty of spare oxygen tanks. Their faces were rosy and relaxed. Only I was clutching that ridiculous, bulky helium canister. Bianca walked up to me, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Vivi, don't blame him. I'm just too useless. After climbing so little, I can't catch my breath already. "Julian said you're an experienced high-altitude photographer. This should be nothing for you…" As she spoke, she took a long, satisfied breath of oxygen. She then raised her eyebrows at me provocatively. For this cover shoot, I had pulled strings to get military-grade, high-concentration oxygen from a plateau unit. It was something that could greatly alleviate altitude sickness. Yet now it was hanging on Bianca's back. Julian reached out to straighten Bianca's backpack straps, his voice gentle. "Don't mind her, Bia. She's just spoiled by her little bit of fame. She can't even tolerate the slightest discomfort." When he turned back to me, the impatience in his eyes was overflowing. "Stop acting, will you? I looked it up. Altitude sickness is mostly psychological. If your willpower's strong enough, you can push through it. It's not that serious. "That fancy oxygen of yours is just a placebo anyway. Heavy as hell. "Bia is the future backbone of the studio. If she feels unwell and it affects the shoot, the loss is far greater than anything involving you." I fumbled shakily for the emergency altitude sickness medication in the outer pocket of my backpack, only to find it completely empty. As if suddenly remembering something, Julian reached into Bianca's pocket. He pulled out my medicine box, poured two pills into his palm, and fed them to her. "Let Bia keep these, too. Look at you. You're still standing, trying to snatch phones. You're not even that fragile at all. "Do you really think you're some national treasure of a photographer? You can't even endure this little hardship?" His righteous tone was more suffocating than the thin air itself. My oxygen and my emergency medication had all become tools for him to dote on his junior. The other assistants quietly adjusted their equipment, pretending not to notice the conflict unfolding. Only I—like a patient whose life support had been unplugged—struggled uselessly on the brink of life and death. "Acute altitude sickness can cause pulmonary edema and cerebral edema… I can die!" I practically forced the words out through clenched teeth. "Pulmonary edema? Who are you trying to scare?" Julian rolled his eyes. Bianca shrank closer behind him, playing along perfectly. "Vivi, I know you don't really like me, but Julian said you're very experienced. You can definitely handle a small situation like this." She even flashed a peace sign at the GoPro clipped to her collar. I nearly passed out from rage at the sight of her smug expression. "That's enough!" I reached out, trying to snatch back my oxygen tank. Julian shoved me hard. I staggered, nearly falling. "What are you doing? If something happens to Bia, will you be responsible?" Bianca immediately clutched her chest, her voice turning weak. "Julian, I think I'm feeling unwell again… Maybe I shouldn't have come… Is Vivi upset because I stole her spotlight…" "You did nothing wrong. She's the selfish one!" Julian quickly supported her, comforting her softly. "She's just been indulged for too long. She thinks the whole world has to revolve around her." The wind and snow seemed to grow stronger, blurring my vision. I watched them huddled together like a perfect couple, warming each other. They completely ignored me—Julian's fiancee in name only. Overwhelming fury intertwined with the suffocating sense of impending death from the lack of oxygen. I raised the helium canister in my hand and smashed it against the icy rock beside me. "Julian Gray, we're done! The engagement is off!"