But before long, everyone stopped laughing.
Yusa was struggling violently just to break the surface, screaming for help. Her voice was muffled by the distance, but one look at her desperate thrashing was enough to tell them something was terribly wrong.
Gu Ming dashed forward without a second thought, and Gu Yan followed closely behind. Song Ai, He Xin, and Kang Yu exchanged frantic glances before rushing after them.
“What’s going on with them?” Zeng Jiu asked, looking thoroughly bewildered from high up in a tree where he was picking coconuts.
“Looks like they’re heading into the water. Uh, should we even be looking?” Below, Xu Wen took one glance and awkwardly turned his head away.
“I don’t think they’re just going for a swim. Look, Cheng Ming went in too. Could something have happened?” The sudden realization made Zeng Jiu unable to sit still, and he scrambled down the tree.
“No way, right?” Xu Wen craned his neck, straining to see. He watched as his teammates jumped into the water one after another in sheer panic. Aside from Kang Yu, whose foot injury hadn’t healed, and Song Ai, who wasn’t a strong swimmer, Gu Ming, Gu Yan, He Xin, and Cheng Ming had all dove in.
“Is Yusa drowning?” Xu Wen guessed. Unable to just stand by, he and Zeng Jiu exchanged a quick look and sprinted toward the shore.
Although the sky was clear and the surface looked calm from afar, the ocean told a different story underneath. Fierce, churning undercurrents ripped beneath the waves. Every swell dragged Yusa further out into the open sea, and in the blink of an eye, she vanished from sight.
Panic surging through her, Gu Ming dove straight under and swam hard toward Yusa’s last known position.
Only when she submerged did she realize what had happened: Yusa’s foot was tightly tangled in seaweed. The more she had thrashed, the tighter the kelp had wrapped around her. In her panic, her leg had cramped up, forcing her to curl inward beneath the dark water.
Catching sight of the shadow, Gu Ming felt a flicker of relief and swam faster.
Seeing someone coming to her rescue, Yusa burst into tears, which were instantly dissolved by the seawater. Gu Ming gave her a few quick hand gestures to calm her down, and together they worked to untangle the mess. Luckily, it wasn’t knotted too badly; once they freed the main cluster, the rest slipped away easily.
But a new problem arose: Yusa couldn’t hold her breath any longer and swallowed several mouthfuls of seawater. Gu Ming considered sharing her air, but they had been submerged for too long, and her own lungs were beginning to burn. Realizing she had no choice, she focused everything on dragging Yusa back up to the surface.
Cheng Ming was the first to swim over to help, followed closely by He Xin.
He Xin looked deeply anxious. She glanced at the empty water, then at Gu Ming, who was pale and gasping heavily for air. Biting her lip, she asked, “Gu Ming, did you see Gu Yan? She hasn’t come up yet.”
Gu Ming’s expression shattered. “She went under?”
“Yes, we all followed you in. But Yusa was too far out, and I couldn’t hold my breath long enough, so I came up for air first. But now you and Yusa are out, and there’s still no sign of her. I’m worried—” Before He Xin could even finish her sentence, Gu Ming spun around and dove right back into the sea.
“Gu Ming!” He Xin called out, completely unable to stop her.
“This is bad. Yusa is still unconscious; we need to call the production team,” Kang Yu said, her voice tight with panic.
“But only Gu Ming knows how to contact them,” Song Ai countered, frowning deeply.
“Don’t worry, the drones have been tracking us. They definitely know what’s happening and will respond immediately. But because of this… Yusa is going to be disqualified,” Cheng Ming sighed heavily.
“What a mess,” He Xin muttered, her head throbbing. She couldn’t bear to think how devastated Yusa would be when she woke up to find herself disqualified—especially since she had only wanted to catch some crabs to give everyone a nice meal.
“Forget Yusa for a second. Gu Ming and Gu Yan still haven’t come up. I’m terrified that—” Kang Yu stared anxiously at the shifting waves.
“I’ll go look for them,” Xu Wen said, already stripping off his shirt.
“Don’t just dive in blindly one by one and risk getting lost too,” Song Ai said, remaining the most rational one of the group. “Take someone with you. Whatever you find, come back and report immediately.”
Xu Wen immediately looked to Cheng Ming, who didn’t hesitate. But just as they were about to dive, Gu Ming broke through the surface.
“Quick, get over there and help!” Cheng Ming shouted, swimming furiously toward her. Xu Wen took one look and quickly followed.
Gu Ming was paddling desperately with one arm, using every ounce of strength she had left to keep Gu Yan’s head above water. Gu Yan’s eyes were tightly shut, completely unconscious. From her left temple, a steady stream of blood seeped out, diluted by the seawater into a pale pink.
The moment the two were pulled ashore, Gu Ming didn’t even pause to catch her breath. She threw herself onto Gu Yan and began performing emergency CPR.
Her expression was frantic and strained, her soaked figure looking utterly battered and vulnerable. Yet, the moment anyone tried to step near her or Gu Yan, she bristled like a fiercely protective, feral lioness.
“Gu Ming, calm down! Don’t panic, the production team is almost here,” Cheng Ming said, gripping her arm tightly, trying to use the sharp pain to snap her out of her hysteria.
But Gu Ming showed no signs of snapping back to reality. Her face was a mask of intense guilt and remorse. “It’s my fault… I was too careless. I harmed her. If it weren’t to save me, she wouldn’t have been hurt. She wouldn’t have been hurt…”
Gu Yan was actually a decent swimmer. Realizing that the surface resistance made it hard to catch up to Yusa, she had dove underwater as well. However, her sense of direction wasn’t the best, and she gradually veered off course.
Sensing the depth changing rapidly, she tried to turn back, but everything looked identical beneath the waves. She was completely disoriented. Breaking the surface to check her bearings, she confirmed she had gone off track. Fortunately, she wasn’t too far off, so she decided to stick to the surface.
Before long, she heard Gu Ming calling her name. She waved back immediately. Seeing the considerable distance between them and not wanting Gu Ming to exhaust herself swimming over, Gu Yan decided to dive back under and swim toward her.
By sheer coincidence, Gu Ming had dove back under at the same time.
While Gu Yan was still secretly thrilled by their unspoken telepathy, a treacherous undercurrent surged out of nowhere, sweeping Gu Ming straight toward a massive submerged boulder.
Without a second thought, Gu Yan lunged forward to shield her, taking the brunt of the impact. Tossed violently by the wave, her forehead slammed heavily against the jagged stone.
The pain was blinding, but seeing that Gu Ming was safe, she felt a wave of peace before everything went black.
The production team’s helicopter arrived swiftly, carrying a professional medical team. Clearly, they realized the severity of the emergency.
Wilderness Survival was already in its third season and had seen its share of mishaps, but never before had a single season witnessed two life-threatening accidents back-to-back.
Technically, Gu Ming was supposed to stay behind on the island, and the crew repeatedly promised to update her immediately. But Gu Ming refused to hear it. Leveraging her status as the show’s largest investor, she demanded production be halted immediately.
She had to stay by Gu Yan’s side until she opened her eyes. Left with no choice, the crew paused the recording.
Yusa was relatively fine; she had swallowed water and sprained her ankle, but a few days of hospital rest would fix that. Gu Yan, however, was in critical condition. Having lost too much blood, she was rushed straight into the emergency room the moment they arrived at the hospital.
Knowing that Gu Yan was hovering between life and death solely because she had saved her, Gu Ming was consumed by agonizing regret, pacing back and forth outside the ER, unable to sit still.
Yao Yi rushed over as soon as she got the news. Seeing Gu Ming still clad in her half-drenched clothes, she tried to convince her to change. But Gu Ming was in no state of mind to care. Until she saw Gu Yan walk out safely, she wouldn’t have a moment of peace.
“I’ve already notified Gu Yan’s legal guardians. They’ll be here shortly,” Yao Yi urged gently. “No matter what, you should at least change into dry clothes first.”
That struck a chord with Gu Ming. It was true—she couldn’t meet Gu Yan’s family looking like this, lest they think she was trying to play the victim or garner sympathy.
Gu Ming changed as quickly as she could. Just as she returned to the ER waiting area, heavy, echoing footsteps resounded from the far end of the long corridor. Gu Yan’s guardian had arrived.
In that split second, a wave of nervousness washed over Gu Ming. She automatically smoothed down her clothes, stood up, and looked up, bracing herself to apologize.
But as her eyes landed on the approaching figure, a jolt of recognition went through her.
Yan Ling.
It was actually Yan Ling.
How could it possibly be Yan Ling?!