Urban Romance

On the side of the helicopter were the words Native Geographic Emergency Rescue.

It was the editor in chief, George Perez! 

He had come in person!

"All personnel on the ground, cease all actions immediately!"

The amplified sound went straight through the wind and snow as the helicopter's powerful downdraft whipped the powdery snow into the air. Rescue personnel rappelled down on ropes, their professional mountaineering gear and calm efficiency instantly taking control of the scene.

The moment George spotted me collapsed in the snow with nearly no clothing, his face turned livid. "Medical team, begin emergency treatment immediately! Severe acute altitude sickness complicated by hypothermia! Prepare the portable hyperbaric oxygen system and warmed IV fluids!"

The medics rushed in, wrapping me tightly in thick thermal blankets. With practiced efficiency, they fitted an oxygen mask ove

George's tone was decisive and unyielding.

"This photoshoot concerns the magazine's reputation and the ethics of exploration. No one is allowed to treat a photographer's life as a joke, much less as a bargaining chip to eliminate rivals."

The helicopter landed smoothly at the emergency rescue center at the foot of the snow-covered mountain. When the cabin door opened, icy air surged in once more, but I was already tightly wrapped and protected.

Medical staff from the rescue center rushed forward with a gurney, efficiently transferring me and pushing me at speed toward the hyperbaric oxygen chamber.

As we passed through the corridor connecting the helipad, I caught a glimpse to the side. Julian and Bianca were being held separately by rescue personnel and escorted toward different interrogation rooms.

Julian's mountaineering suit was disheveled, his hair tangled by the wind. The comm

A fierce survival instinct forced my lips apart. I wanted to cry for help. I wanted to expose everything. 

But only hoarse, broken wheezing came out, like air leaking from a ruined bellows.

Just then, Julian strode over and positioned himself squarely between the mountaineer and me. "It's fine, thank you for your concern. She's my fiancee, and we're part of the same photography team.

"She just has a bit of altitude sickness,  and we had a small argument. That's why she's throwing a little tantrum. Sorry about that."

His explanation sounded perfectly reasonable.

Bianca immediately hurried over as well, her face full of helplessness and concern. "Yeah. She's not feeling too well, and she's in a bad mood. She insisted on resting here for a while, and we just couldn't persuade her.

"It's really fine. We'll be okay soon. You should go ahead."

The mountaineer studied my deathly pale face, then looked at Julian and Bianca hesitantly. "Are you sure she doesn't need help? Her condition looks extremely dangerous."

His sharp gaze swept over Julian.

"Really, no need! No need at all!" Julian waved his hands dismissively, his smile turning even more sincere. "We're all professional photographers. We work on the plateau year-round, so we have experience. She's just tired and throwing a fit. A short rest will fix it. Right, Vivian?"

As he spoke, he even bent down and, under the guise of gentleness, pinched my arm hard. 

"Don't embarrass me. Say you're fine. Now," he whispered.

Pain shot through my arm, but my throat refused to produce a single sound. I could only stretch out my hand with all my remaining strength. My eyes were filled with desperate pleas.

But to an outsider, my struggle probably looked more like proof that I was being unreasonable.

The mountaineer glanced at our strange interaction, then at the filming equipment in the distance. In the end, he nodded.

"Alright then. Take care of yourselves. This area just received a warning saying there may be localized avalanche risks this afternoon. You'd better withdraw to a safe zone as soon as possible."

After leaving the warning, he glanced at me again, clearly still uneasy. But his teammates urged him on, and he eventually turned and left.

Hope was extinguished instantly like a faint spark crushed underfoot.

As I watched the orange figures disappear into the wind and snow, the smile vanished from Julian's face.

He turned to Bianca and the other assistants, his voice cold. "Pack up. We're leaving."

"What about her?" a young assistant asked softly, unable to hide his hesitation.

Julian shot me a glance, as if I were nothing more than an inconvenient pile of trash. "Doesn't she like pretending? Then let her stay here and calm down! Forget about her. We'll go to the next location. Once the shoot is over, we'll come back and pick her up on the way down."

Bianca couldn't suppress the smile creeping onto her lips, though she spoke in feigned concern. "Julian, isn't that a bit risky? What if there's an avalanche—"

"There's no what if," he cut her off. "She tore her own clothes and hurt herself. You tried to help her out of kindness, and yet she turned and accused you! If someone that ungrateful like her dies, it's her own doing!"

His words were brutally cold, laced with undisguised malice.

As if that wasn't enough, he tilted his head toward Bianca. "Go. Take the spare down jacket and the sleeping bag from her pack. And check if she has any food or water on her. Take them all. She won't be using them anyway. Don't waste them."

Bianca's eyes lit up immediately. She nodded eagerly. "You're right, Julian. The photoshoot comes first."

Her gaze fell on the only down jacket left on my body. "Julian, I'm a bit cold. Can I borrow Vivi's jacket? She's not going anywhere anyway. I'll give it back when we come back down to pick her up later."

"Fine. Wear more, and don't catch a cold," Julian agreed casually. He was completely unconcerned with whether I would freeze to death.

Bianca excitedly reached out to strip the jacket off me.

I didn't know where the strength came from, but I clutched the clothing tightly. Seeing this, Julian actually helped Bianca pin me down.

Before long, the two of them had forcibly pulled my down jacket off. Still unsatisfied, Bianca reached for my insulated vest underneath.

No.

This was my last line of defense against the cold. Without it, I would really die.

I pressed my hands tightly over the vest, my bloodshot eyes locked onto Julian. But there wasn't a trace of guilt on his face. He reached out, preparing to help Bianca get it off me.

"Let go! You're physically strong. It's not like you can't handle it. But Bia's different! She has a weak body and can't afford to catch a cold!"

Hearing those words, I was completely crushed. Drained of all strength, I released my grip and waited for my death.

Just as Julian reached for the final layer of clothing clinging to my body, the thunderous roar of a helicopter suddenly echoed from the distance.


On the side of the helicopter were the words Native Geographic Emergency Rescue.

It was the editor in chief, George Perez! 

He had come in person!

"All personnel on the ground, cease all actions immediately!"

The amplified sound went straight through the wind and snow as the helicopter's powerful downdraft whipped the powdery snow into the air. Rescue personnel rappelled down on ropes, their professional mountaineering gear and calm efficiency instantly taking control of the scene.

The moment George spotted me collapsed in the snow with nearly no clothing, his face turned livid. "Medical team, begin emergency treatment immediately! Severe acute altitude sickness complicated by hypothermia! Prepare the portable hyperbaric oxygen system and warmed IV fluids!"

The medics rushed in, wrapping me tightly in thick thermal blankets. With practiced efficiency, they fitted an oxygen mask over my face and connected it to a portable high-pressure oxygen supply.

"Altered consciousness, hypot

Chapter 5