Because... she is the mother of his daughter.
And the woman he loves.
If he could easily give up, could it still be called love?
Climbing was a sport that greatly expended one's physical strength, and after taking a bath, Qiao An returned to the tent they had set up for rest.
The space within the tent was more than sufficient for the two of them to rest comfortably.
They lay on an inflatable mat, with sleeping bags on top, and that would have to do for the night.
When Mu Jingxi came back from bathing, a faint scent of shower gel lingered on him, fresh and pleasant, similar to the one on Qiao An.
Lying in her sleeping bag, Qiao An wriggled like a caterpillar little by little sideways, "Mu Jingxi, when are we going to meet that old Wen?"
"Tomorrow." Mu Jingxi turned his head, and under the light of the tent's stored electricity lamp, he saw her face filled with anticipation and nervousness. So, he spoke to reassure her, "Don't worry, I've got everything under control."