Ian Lawson climbed up a severely weathered limestone slope, where loose rocks and stone fragments were piled up, ready to roll at any moment. As soon as Ian Lawson stepped down, his foot got stuck in a crevice and couldn’t be pulled out; with even a slight push, the rocks tumbled down like hailstones. Several times, Ian Lawson nearly lost his balance.

Ian Lawson came to an ice wall that blocked the way like a barrier. The Lhoba guide crawled on the ice wall, using an ice axe to carve out footholds one by one. On the more than 30-meter-high ice wall, Ian Lawson had to rest three times before finally reaching the top.

Suddenly, the weather changed, and wind and snow raged together. Dry snowflakes spread over the mountains like thick fog, and weathered sand and stones were swept up by the fierce wind, soaring dozens of meters high. Gusts of cold wind pierced to the bone, and Ian Lawson shivered violently.

Ian Lawson entered a snowfield, where the thick snow reached his waist. Carrying heavy mountaineering gear, his steps became even slower. The strong wind, mixed with snow, lashed his face and head; Ian Lawson's mouth was filled with wind and snow, nearly choking him. But Ian Lawson knew he couldn’t stop.

Step by step, he drew closer to the summit, closer to success. After a long time, the wind gradually calmed down.

As evening approached, the sun slanted westward, and the brilliant glow of the sunset gently caressed the snow-capped peaks of Namcha Barwa. Golden light forcefully filled the sky, its brilliance dyeing the pure white, while the white peaks stubbornly split the gold, their sharp ridges shining like blades.

Ian Lawson was deeply moved; the golden Namcha Barwa was mysterious and beautiful, the whiteness both alluring and provocative.

With the increasingly severe high-altitude hypoxia, Ian Lawson saw stars before his eyes, his chest felt as if it would explode with pain. In his heart, Ian Lawson silently repeated countless times: “Namcha Barwa! Majestic, sacred, enchanting... you are my goddess, you are my fate, my destined trial. I will not give up, I will not give up.” The expression on Ian Lawson's face was resolute and unwavering.

“The meaning of life lies in constant challenge; the key to success is whether you keep taking the next step,” Ian Lawson moved his feet with difficulty, encouraging himself in his heart: “Be a snail that keeps crawling forward, never stopping, always taking the next step. Look, I’ve taken another ‘next step’—good, now another ‘next step’.”

What attracted Ian Lawson most about mountaineering was the clear goal and the arduous process of climbing. Every climb meant setting a new goal. With each new goal, he would devote one hundred percent of his energy, striving step by step to achieve it. Although others saw mountaineering as bitter and dangerous, for Ian Lawson it was a kind of enjoyment. Many people dream of promotion and wealth, but Ian Lawson's dream was to live an extraordinary life, to have a unique journey.

The wind on his exposed skin felt like stabbing needles, and his exhaled breath quickly froze into ice crystals. Ian Lawson pushed forward with all his might...

Ian Lawson's mind began to grow confused, his movements noticeably slowed. Deep in his subconscious, something seemed to stir his soul, countless inexplicable feelings merging together. Gazing at the snowy peak of Namcha Barwa, a devout sense of belonging rose in Ian Lawson's heart, as if his soul had merged with Namcha Barwa, as if that place was the homeland of Ian Lawson's soul.

After crossing two ice crevasses and a snow bridge buried deep in snow, Ian Lawson reached the ridge at an altitude of 7,760 meters. The snow ridge was as steep as a blade, and every move Ian Lawson made was fraught with danger. A single misstep could send him tumbling hundreds of meters down the icy slope, never to return.

The summit outlined a perfect arc, and Ian Lawson was getting closer and closer to his goal.

Surrounded by mountains, the summit of Namcha Barwa was shrouded in a magnificent golden glow, dazzling and enchanting. The white snow ridge traced her alluring and resilient lines, appearing sacred and inviolable against the azure sky.

Ian Lawson stood on the summit, wild with joy, as the biting cold wind howled past. Ian Lawson could only manage faint breaths. On the snowy peak, only Ian Lawson and the Lhoba guide stood tall, the fragility and strength of life clearly on display.

“When the sea has no bounds, the sky becomes its shore; when I reach the summit, I become the peak. Through a thousand mountains of wind and frost, I walk alone for ten thousand miles!” This line surfaced in Ian Lawson's heart: “This is the beginning of my extraordinary life, my first step to success. There are summits everywhere in life, there are challenges everywhere. The key is to know how to make up your mind to conquer them, and to always say ‘no’ to failure!”

When Ian Lawson eagerly and excitedly set foot on the land of Tibet, he couldn’t suppress his boiling blood. During those days camped at the foot of Namcha Barwa, every morning, Ian Lawson would crawl out of the nylon tent and look up at a sky bluer than he had ever seen. Happiness surged in his heart—the sky was so pure, so clear, so pristine, like the spotless eyes of a newborn baby. Ian Lawson felt he was close to the purest nature, and he loved this feeling immensely.

Ian Lawson loved the world of pure white ice and snow. Here, ice and snow reigned supreme; only ice and snow had established an eternal, unyielding rule—the kingdom of ice and snow, closest to the divine. Or rather, ice and snow were the only deities here; no wonder some peoples worshipped snow mountains as gods. In this world of ice and snow closest to the heavens, a sense of holiness naturally welled up in Ian Lawson's heart.