Only when Qu Zian was actually on the 5-kilometer snow-capped mountain did he understand the gap between words and practice. On the 5-kilometer snow-capped mountain, Qu Zian met a young man with bronze skin and bandages on his hands.
The young man blushed, opened his arms, and let the wind blow his hair. He smiled with white teeth and said, "The oxygen here is half that of the plains, and the sunshine is twice that of the plains. You may feel that breathing becomes painful, because your lungs are getting stronger. The mountain god will protect us."
Qu Zian raised his head slightly, and the wind filled his throat. He coughed violently, and some physiological tears flowed from the end of his eyes, which were very cold. He said in a slightly hoarse voice: "Well, alive."
Intention: I am waiting for a rainy season that does not belong to this altitude