Two days later, the morning flight to Zhangjiakou took off. In the depths of winter, the snow-covered ground was visible through the clouds from high above. As the flight attendant gently reminded everyone to lower their window shades and keep them closed after landing, it signaled the plane’s imminent descent.
Several minutes later, the aircraft touched down. Stepping out of the cabin, the air carried the crisp scent of ice and snow. Inside the terminal, passengers could finally glimpse the scenery outside—
It seemed another heavy snowfall had blanketed the area overnight. The airport now lay covered in a pristine white coat, glistening like silver.
Airport staff worked diligently to clear the runways, carving paths through the white carpet and revealing streaks of the ground beneath…
From above, the ground crew looked like tiny figures emerging from a matchbox, bustling about their work. The scene resembled a winter wonderland straight out of a fairy tale.
This peak snow season brought a lively atmosphere to the small airport. On the baggage carousel, every second or third item was a ski bag, containing both snowboards and skis.
Exiting the airport, they climbed into Shan Chong’s battered Beijing Auto. The dashboard, with its oddly lit gauges, felt as familiar and comforting as returning home.
Wei Zhi breathed into the window, creating a foggy patch, and drew strange patterns with her finger. Bored with this, she turned her attention to picking at the clear tape stuck to the passenger side window…
Shan Chong, steering with one hand, glanced at her. “Stop fidgeting.”
Wei Zhi mused how, when she first noticed this tape, she had been a shy newcomer secretly admiring the boss. Now, the tape remained, but she had successfully won over that same boss.
— With perseverance, solutions always outnumber problems.
In the past, his words might have made her timidly withdraw her hand. But perhaps emboldened by recent nights spent sleeping in his arms and waking up with drowsy yawns against his chest, she even peeled up a corner of the tape, saying, “If you don’t get it fixed soon, prices will go up for the New Year.”
Shan Chong hesitated between scolding her or agreeing, ultimately opting for the latter, which he found quite reasonable: “We’ll go tomorrow.”
Bei Ci chimed in from the back: “The company you keep influences you. Stay close to the frugal, and you become a penny-pincher.”
Wei Zhi released the tape and looked back. Bei Ci wore a wistful expression as he gazed at the driver and passenger in front… Beside him, Lao Yan hugged his snowboard bag with his eyes closed, appearing completely checked out—
He had been like this for the past couple of days, suddenly transforming from a playboy into a cold, aloof character. With headphones perpetually in place, he showed no interest in anyone.
When playboys suffer heartbreak, it’s no small matter.
Bei Ci had started posting videos on his short video platform (with its mere twenty to thirty thousand followers) announcing his return to Chongli and inviting students to book lessons. Yet Lao Yan remained completely silent…
This led to his female fans flooding the accounts of those around him, desperately asking anyone they could find if Lao Yan had returned to Chongli and whether they could book lessons with him.
Wei Zhi only discovered this while performing her routine check of her boyfriend’s short video comments—
Yes, even a couple of young women had left messages asking about Lao Yan on Shan Chong’s page.
Despite all this, Lao Yan still showed no reaction.
For instance, at that moment, Bei Ci was asking him about someone who had inquired through an acquaintance if he was back in Chongli and available for lessons.
Lao Yan, who had been pretending to be asleep, shifted slightly: “I’ve already earned next semester’s tuition, so probably not… I don’t feel like teaching these days.”
“It’s someone we know.”
“Hmm,” Lao Yan barely opened his eyes, “Not in the mood.”
“Tsk, tsk.”
“We’ll see.”
“Well, well, someone’s too rich for their good. Chong-ge, want to pull over and kick him out?” Bei Ci kicked the only person under twenty in the car. “You’ve got quite the reputation now. Booking a lesson with you is as hard as with Chong-ge, people have to ask through friends of friends—”
“Is that what you call having a reputation?” the man driving inquired.
Bei Ci looked up, confused: “Isn’t it?”
Shan Chong nodded toward the young woman beside him: “Then explain the logic behind this person’s presence?”
Bei Ci: “When it rains, it pours? When a girl wants to marry, she will? Fate works in mysterious ways, unstoppable indeed!”
Bei Ci paused.
Bei Ci: “Of course, it could also be that she’s thick-skinned and doesn’t fear scolding.”
Shan Chong: “Her, getting scolded?”
Wei Zhi: “What’s with that questioning tone? Have you always thought you were giving loving guidance?”
Shan Chong glanced at Bei Ci through the rearview mirror: “You hear that? It’s always been like this—I say one thing, she comes back with ten. When she can’t argue anymore, she throws a tantrum. What does she have to be afraid of?”
Bei Ci: “Could you two be considerate of the heartbroken one here?”
The heartbroken one sighed, burying his head deeper into the snowboard bag. His hair became disheveled, clearly affected by the various conversations in the car.
Bei Ci: “It’s truly pitiful. This story teaches us not to date our disciples—otherwise, when conflicts arise, you lose both your girlfriend and the prized student you’ve painstakingly nurtured…”
Wei Zhi turned to look at Shan Chong.
Shan Chong kept his hands on the wheel, his expression impassive as he stared straight ahead, seemingly focused on driving.
Wei Zhi: “What does that mean?”
The man didn’t even glance at her.
Wei Zhi tugged at his sleeve.
He shook her hand off.
Bei Ci: “I suppose it means you can’t do without a girlfriend, but as for the painstakingly nurtured disciple who wasn’t much of a prized student anyway, it’s no great loss if they’re gone—”
Wei Zhi struggled with her seatbelt, turning to punch her senior disciple.
Witnessing their horseplay, Shan Chong didn’t even blink, calmly saying: “He’s not entirely wrong. I’ve never had a disciple constantly pestering me to learn carving… Sit properly, we’re on the highway. Can’t you two behave for two minutes?”
The young woman plopped back into her seat, thought for a moment, then turned to ask the man driving: “So you can’t teach me carving?”
Shan Chong was silent for two seconds.
Then he let out an incredulous snort.
Only then did Wei Zhi recall that eons ago, the man had engaged in an epic battle with Dai Duo at the summit snow park. The two park masters hadn’t competed on kickers that time, but in parallel giant slalom—
What is a parallel giant slalom?
It involves passing through gates, the most fundamental competition in all snowboarding events: a pure test of technical riding skills.
If “carving” as a riding style had a competitive event, it would be parallel giant slalom.
In official competitions, participants not only use specialized racing snowboards, but their boots are also different from regular snowboarding boots, with stiffness approaching that of alpine ski boots…
Thinking about it now, the fact that Shan Chong and Dai Duo had performed at a level close to Olympic qualifying rounds (albeit at the bottom end) while wearing regular snowboarding boots was quite remarkable.
Wei Zhi pulled up that video to watch again—
Back then, she hadn’t understood much, but now she could discern more details. Squinting at the man’s stance in the swirling snow, she asked: “You’re using a duck stance in this video, right?”
Snowboarding has two stance types—
When both feet’s bindings point outward, it’s called a duck stance.
When both feet’s bindings point in the direction of the front foot, it’s called a forward stance.
Generally, those who focus on carving adjust their bindings to a forward stance, as it facilitates extreme edge control while riding.
Shan Chong grunted in affirmation.
Wei Zhi was amazed: “How do you know everything!”
Shan Chong: “Your tone of surprise is almost offensive.”
Bei Ci chuckled: “Don’t you remember? We mentioned it before. Eons ago, when Chong-ge was just a kid, the first time he actively participated in a competition was to win a new pair of gloves. Those old gloves were worn out from touching the snow, right?”
The typical carving posture involves a folded body position with hips close to the ground, maintaining high speed and stability. During the ride, the hand naturally comes very close to or even brushes against the snow surface—
Carving doesn’t necessarily require touching the snow, but most enthusiasts spend countless hours on the slopes, striving to achieve that snow touch until they’re exhausted.
In the process, gloves get worn out from friction.
Carving enthusiasts go through gloves quickly.
“I have plenty of gloves, and I want to learn carving. We’re free tomorrow anyway,” Wei Zhi said. “Why don’t you start teaching me tomorrow?”
Before Shan Chong could respond,
“Why are you interested in this, shorty?” Bei Ci asked. “Carving is for tall people.”
“Short people aren’t allowed to try?”
“It’s not that they’re not allowed, but parallel giant slalom favors taller riders. Do you see why there are more tall people in alpine skiing? It’s about speed, same principle.”
“I just want to touch the snow, I’m not aiming for the Winter Olympics!”
“You can touch snow with skidded turns too.”
“Carving looks cooler than skidded turns!”
“Ah, you’re being stubborn as a mule! Short people have a low center of gravity. Why waste the height advantage your parents gave you? Wouldn’t it be better to do jumps, freestyle, and hit park features?”
“No way!”
The two argued back and forth.
“Alright,” Shan Chong lazily interrupted their pointless debate, “Learn whatever you want. You’ll end up learning it all eventually anyway.”
That put an end to the topic.
As for Lao Yan, the expert in carving and freestyle, he hadn’t raised his head once during the entire conversation. He dejectedly tapped away at his phone, occasionally glancing at WeChat messages—
Lesson requests.
People asking if he was back in Chongli.
Casual chats.
…In short, not a single message that interested him. He sighed, locked his screen, and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.
Bei Ci grabbed him: “Give us your opinion!”
“Chong-he is right, you have to learn it all,” Lao Yan said listlessly. “Besides, what’s wrong with carving? It’s not like it lacks visual appeal… Can’t you combine carving with freestyle for high-speed carved tricks?”
He paused.
“Nan Feng was planning to develop in that direction,” he continued slowly. “I was even helping her inquire about Mach boards from Gray’s people. I heard next year’s Mach model will have new materials, lighter and softer, perfect for carved tricks. That person hadn’t had the chance to get back to me with specifics—”
His voice trailed off.
Once again, a melancholic atmosphere permeated the air.
Wei Zhi now truly felt the crematorium vibe—
It’s that feeling when you’ve just broken up and haven’t fully processed it, perhaps even too numb to cry.
Until one day, in casual conversation, you inadvertently mention that person, accidentally bringing up plans you had together, or work you were doing because of them. Then it suddenly hits you that this work, so closely tied to them, is now unfinished and has become meaningless, with no reason to continue.
That’s when the grief likely comes flooding in, overwhelming and unstoppable.
It has that crematorium feel of “wanting to care for one’s parents, but they’re no longer there.”
To put it plainly—
If I had known it would end like this, why did I even start?
…
Under the influence of Lao Yan’s mood, no one spoke much for the rest of the journey.
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before they arrived at the summit snow park.
This was undoubtedly Shan Chong’s territory. He was so famous that even his beat-up car was well-known. As soon as they parked and opened the doors, people carrying snowboards called out one after another—
“Hey, Chong-ge, you’re back!”
“How was Xinjiang?”
“You left us here with temperatures above zero and sandstorms… It’s like the heavens heard you were coming back and rushed to drop some heavy snow last night. Otherwise, seeing the sorry state of the snow park would’ve made you faint!”
“Chong-ge!”
“Boss Chong!”
“Dad, you’re back!”
Wei Zhi followed behind the “snow circle celebrities,” not daring to raise her head.
Returning to this familiar place, this time without Jiang Nanfeng, Wei Zhi hesitated for about thirty seconds when they reached the summit snow park apartment entrance.
The reason it didn’t exceed thirty seconds was that on the thirty-first second, Shan Chong simply picked up her luggage and headed upstairs.
Wei Zhi: “?”
Wei Zhi: “What does this mean?”
Shan Chong looked back at her: “Me, you. Lao Yan, Bei Ci—perfect.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Perfect, my foot!
The past couple of days, thinking they were leaving soon, she had reluctantly let him hold her while sleeping for two nights—although they hadn’t done much, it wasn’t exactly nothing either—she wasn’t mentally prepared to sleep with him like this for over a month…
That would surely lead to trouble!
She took a quick step to grab her luggage, but the man calmly said: “To learn carving, you need to switch to a forward stance. You need to adjust the binding angles, you know how?”
Wei Zhi was confused by his sudden change of topic.
The man smiled at her: “Be good, and your teacher might be in a good mood to adjust your binding angles for you.”
“…”
On the surface, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with what he said, but for some reason, the word “teacher” coming from between his teeth sounded particularly improper, malicious, and roguish.
She placed a hand on her suitcase. “I want to sleep alone.”
Shan Chong: “Fine.”
Wei Zhi: “Then—”
Shan Chong: “The apartment has two beds anyway.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi watched with a wooden expression as he dragged her suitcase into the elevator, thinking she might as well let him finish installing the bindings before saying anything else.
After entering the room and washing her face, she tidied up a bit. It was just past lunchtime.
The man washed his hands and had just dried them with a towel when he turned to find the young woman staring at him intently. He raised an eyebrow, asking if there was something about him she didn’t like… She suddenly leaped up and clung to him.
Caught off guard, he quickly supported her bottom to keep her from falling, letting her sit steadily on his arm. He patted her back: “Do you think you only weigh 80 pounds or something?”
She hugged his neck and straightened up slightly: “Why do you always attack my weight?”
Shan Chong ignored her comment and carried her around the room, taking out things that needed to be unpacked and grabbing new sheets from the closet to make her bed—
The apartment was rented for the entire snow season. Shan Chong and Lao Yan had originally lived here, but now that Lao Yan was replaced by his girlfriend, Shan Chong planned to give his own bed to Wei Zhi.
Wei Zhi climbed down from him and crouched beside the man, watching him make the bed.
Shan Chong glanced at her without speaking, seemingly determined to maintain a patient silence.
Finally, as he was almost done tidying the room, the young woman appeared unable to contain herself any longer: “Shall we go to the snow park to install the bindings?”
Shan Chong looked back at her: “So eager?”
She nodded.
The snow park was just downstairs.
Installing bindings required a screwdriver, and their boards had been delivered to the snow park’s central receiving area.
The man knew exactly what she was up to, but after considering for a moment, he agreed to her request.
So, half an hour later.
In the bustling equipment hall, everyone turned to look at the man wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and black mask, leaning against a table with a Nitro rainbow board in front of him. He held a screwdriver in one hand, dismantling the bindings.
Beside him, a young woman sat with her legs crossed, half of her body sprawled across the table, cupping her face in her hands as she watched him intently.
— For some reason, even though he wasn’t performing any high-difficulty tricks like jumps, when he lowered his eyes, lifted the binding baseplate with one hand, and skillfully unscrewed the bolts with the screwdriver, slightly turning his head, it was incredibly captivating.
His high, straight nose was half-hidden beneath the black mask.
As he turned his head slightly, light caught one side of his nose bridge, making the brown mole there seem even more vivid.
Wei Zhi couldn’t take her eyes off him. Taking advantage of his lowered head, she reached out to touch the tip of his nose…
The soft, sweet-scented touch brushed against him, and the man dodged backward, telling her not to mess around.
By now, news of Shan Chong’s return to Chongli had spread.
Even with the mask on, many people recognized him.
As the two were playfully interacting, a curious onlooker approached and asked: “Chong-ge? What are you up to? Just got back and already at the snow park… Oh, adjusting bindings?”
Shan Chong held up a binding screw, grunted in affirmation, and glanced at Wei Zhi, who was cupping her face. He then seriously considered what angle would be most suitable for her forward stance.
He fiddled with the bindings.
The passerby who had struck up a conversation noticed and seemed surprised: “Why change to a forward stance for no reason… Oh, this board isn’t yours, it’s your disciple’s? Your disciple asked you to help change the bindings for a forward stance?”
The tone implied something along the lines of “Does your disciple have a death wish?”
The man’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at the speaker—
Then he realized that quite a crowd had gathered to watch. He casually adjusted the binding to about thirty-something degrees and made an affirmative sound deep in his throat.
After a moment, he said: “It’s my wife’s.”
The surrounding spectators were stunned for half a second.
They quickly recalled the gossip from far-off Xinjiang, which had apparently correctly stated that Shan Chong was no longer single.
A chorus of “Ah,” “Oh,” “Your wife does carving?” and “Well, at least she truly loves you and isn’t just after your park skills” arose from the crowd. While most of it was fine, the comment about Wei Zhi not being after his park skills seemed to strike a chord with the man—
After adjusting Wei Zhi’s bindings, he put the board on the ground and reached across the table to casually tug at the young woman’s hoodie: “Come try the stance, see if it works?”
As she moved over, the crowd finally realized that the person who had almost been lost in the crowd was actually Shan Chong’s little wife.
Wei Zhi shuffled over slowly, overhearing someone ask: “Chong-ge, where did you find a wife? Everyone’s skiing, how come you’re the one who got hitched?”
Shan Chong helped Wei Zhi step onto the bindings.
Hearing the question, he raised an eyebrow and replied in a calm tone: “Right here.”
The crowd: “Huh?”
Shan Chong turned his face in a certain direction—where the blue sign reading “Ski School” was particularly eye-catching at the corner. He nodded in that direction: “There.”
The confused crowd looked back, glancing at the ski school and then at the young woman in front of the man, who barely reached past his shoulder and was boldly complaining to him as she clung to his arm.
“The stance is too wide, I can’t even stand steady.”
“Then get down, I’ll adjust it a bit.”
“How come you can’t even get my stance right anymore? It wasn’t like this last time you installed the bindings.”
“The forward stance is slightly different…”
“I see, once you’ve got me, you don’t know how to cherish me anymore.”
“Haven’t got you yet,” the man’s expressionless face was evident even behind the mask, completely calm, “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“You won’t be able to get me now.”
“Mm, you’d better pray that’s the case.”
The crowd unexpectedly found themselves witnessing a lovey-dovey scene. After chatting casually with Shan Chong for a bit longer, they dispersed.
…
With the bindings installed and the board set aside, they went to the cafeteria for a quick bite. Wei Zhi pestered Shan Chong to buy three-hour lift tickets together. They returned to the apartment to change shoes, then headed up the mountain with their boards.
The familiar chairlift and slopes.
On the lift, Shan Chong showed Wei Zhi some instructional videos, including some he had filmed himself last season when he got bored of jumping and played around with forward stance carving. He explained the basic forward stance carving posture and the concept of folding the body.
It was peak season, with queues for the lifts. Everyone in the chairlift sat quietly, taking advantage of the free lesson from the expert.
After explaining a great deal, Shan Chong turned to look at the young woman and asked: “Can you understand all that?”
Before Wei Zhi could open her mouth to speak, he promptly and decisively said: “You can understand, I think you can understand.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
An older man in the chairlift couldn’t hold back his laughter. Probably just an ordinary snow enthusiast who didn’t recognize Shan Chong, he looked up at the man who was seriously flipping through videos, trying to find a few more to show his girlfriend. He said: “Brother, you’ll soon discover that no matter how well you ski, teaching your girlfriend yourself is not as good as paying for an instructor for her… Some money you just have to spend, even if it seems wasteful.”
This time, before Shan Chong could speak, Wei Zhi responded quickly—
“That’s not true,” the young woman said sweetly, “I have a good temper.”
Shan Chong: “…”
At the summit, having rolled down from Awen Boulevard before, this time the advanced slopes at the summit snow park didn’t look as steep as they had when she was a beginner. After strapping on her board, Wei Zhi switched edges a few times to get used to the new binding angle.
It still felt quite unfamiliar.
When switching from heel edge to toe edge, she always felt like her leg was kicking outward. After just a few attempts, the man who had caught up from behind called for her to stop and asked: “Did you watch the video just now?”
Wei Zhi: “I did.”
Shan Chong: “Don’t you think your posture now looks quite different from mine in the video?”
Wei Zhi: “It does feel a bit awkward. What’s different?”
Shan Chong: “Everything is different.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
“You’re still using a duck stance riding style, with shoulders and hips turning simultaneously… Stand properly, see the basic stance? Twist your waist, open your shoulders,” the man demonstrated on his snowboard. “Shoulders facing the binding direction, naturally open your hips in the forward stance. Do you feel your back foot loose when you’re on the heel edge?”
Wei Zhi stomped her back foot and nodded.
“What about your core?” Shan Chong asked. “A forward stance is already off-axis. If you don’t fold your body forward and engage your core, all your weight will be on your front foot. How can your back foot not feel loose?”
“Where should the center of gravity be?”
“What do you think?”
“In the middle? How do I engage my core?” She looked bewildered.
Behind his face mask, the man pressed his lips together.
That stern demeanor emerged, and before Wei Zhi could speak, he reached down and patted her lower abdomen: “This! Engage it! Inhale! Fold! Press your hips! Let your hips press the edge and initiate the turn!”
Her snow pants made a “pat pat” sound as he tapped them.
Wei Zhi grabbed the drawstring of his hoodie and tugged: “Be a little nicer, will you?”
The man brushed her hand away: “I’ve used up a lifetime’s worth of kindness on you— Let go, watch me do a toe-side turn. Pay attention to how the hips press down. Your hips press the board edge, not your feet.”
As he spoke, he stomped on his snowboard, casually rode heel-side to the edge of the run, then made a clear motion of pressing his hips forward onto the toe edge. His body leaned forward, his hand naturally brushing over the snow surface, his body almost touching the snow—
Accompanied by a spray of snow.
From Wei Zhi’s perspective, his profile was perfectly aligned with the direction of the board, his nose appearing particularly high and refined beneath the goggles.
… Damn, tall people doing carves are like the Venus de Milo of the snow park, the most beautiful sight on the slopes.
Wei Zhi was completely focused on her boyfriend’s good looks when she noticed him stop, stand up straight, and beckon to her from afar. He took out his phone, pointed it at her, and gestured for her to give it a try—
Presumably planning to record a video for her to compare and see where her movements differed.
Wei Zhi tried.
Then she pitched forward stiffly towards the nose of the board, slammed heavily onto the snow surface, sending a spray of snow three meters high, and then slid all the way to the man’s feet, face-down in the snow.
Shan Chong: “…”
Shan Chong: “I’ve never seen such a stiff fatty.”
Wei Zhi got up, brushing snow off her face: “Are you trying to pick a fight?”
Shan Chong: “Where did the video you just watched go? Did it even enter your brain?”
Wei Zhi: “It did! Didn’t I learn boxing with Bei Ci the same way back then? Watch videos, listen to theory, then practice— There’s a problem with your teaching method.”
Shan Chong: “My teaching method has a problem?”
Wei Zhi: “Yeah.”
After hesitating for three seconds, the man decisively pulled out his phone from his pocket and made a call. The other end seemed to pick up after about two seconds, but before they could speak, they heard from this end: “What are you doing? Sleeping? Stop sleeping and come up to teach your sister-in-law some carving, I can’t teach her… I’ll give you two hundred yuan an hour, and then have her put in a good word for you with your ex-girlfriend. Isn’t that worth more than anything? Mm, get up and stop sleeping, meet at the equipment hall in a bit.”
Then he hung up.
Wei Zhi stood up, patted her bottom, and looked at him sideways: “Look at your lack of patience.”
“That guy on the chairlift earlier was right,” Shan Chong said expressionlessly. “Some money you have to spend, even if it seems wasteful.”
…
That evening.
Shan Chong hid in the bathroom, taking his time shaving and showering.
Wei Zhi had spent the afternoon practicing carving with Lao Yan, followed by a black-faced observer with his hands behind his back. He was polite enough not to interrupt while Lao Yan was teaching, just watching from the side, but as he held back, his face grew darker and darker—
After he’d had enough of watching his girlfriend’s stiffness, when he really couldn’t hold back anymore, he’d carve a couple of textbook-perfect turns in front of her, as if silently protesting why she had to be so stubborn.
Wei Zhi had forcibly engaged her core all afternoon.
Now, as she sneezed, the soreness in her abdomen made her curl up and roll over on the bed.
Sinking into the soft pillow, she turned over, picked up her phone to check her boyfriend’s short video platform as usual, and was surprised to find that he had somehow uploaded a new video—
Still with that northeastern old man’s voiceover.
The opening line was 【Today on the chairlift, an old brother told me that some money, even if it seems wasteful, you gotta spend it.】
He mischievously cut three seconds of his own carving.
The northeastern old man’s voiceover continued: 【My instructional video, she confidently said she understood.】
The next clip showed Wei Zhi awkwardly changing edges on the slope, then “smack” hitting the snow, followed by her tumbling and rolling, bringing a cloud of snow dust to the cameraman’s feet. Through the swirling snow, she lay at the man’s feet, the video panning down to show his snow boots and the motionless young woman sprawled on them.
Northeastern old man’s voiceover: 【Mm, understood.】
The video cut again.
Back at the equipment hall, Lao Yan, sleepy-eyed and hugging his board, walked over from afar, waving at them and yawning.
Northeastern old man’s voiceover: 【The scapegoat has arrived. At this moment, he has no idea what he’s about to face.】
Then Wei Zhi realized that while she was taking lessons today, this man hadn’t been idle following behind.
He had been filming, filming, filming—
Filming Lao Yan and her crouching like two squirrels at the edge of the slope, Lao Yan sticking his butt out as he explained to her what the core is, how to exert force, where to change edges, what early edge change means, what board tilt is;
Filming him pausing instructional videos, pausing a 10-second video ten times just to show her what board tilt looks like, basically the movement of the hips, like when changing from heel edge to toe edge, the hips move to the toe edge side the moment the board is flat;
Filming her trying to change edges early, resulting in the previously edged board flattening out, completely losing control and sliding sideways for a long distance, nearly flying off;
Filming her falling.
Falling.
Rolling.
Falling.
Filming her crouching at the edge of the slope, pointing at him, telling him to stop filming.
Filming her getting up from the snow, telling him to go away and stop blocking the slope.
The camera pans to show the vast, open slope, conveying his委屈 (grievance) even through the screen.
After a series of quick cuts, the screen goes black.
Still with the northeastern old man’s voiceover—
【Don’t teach your girlfriend to ski, it’ll shorten your life, really.】
The video finished playing, and within a short time, it gained tens of thousands of likes. The comments below were filled with various forms of “Hahahahahahahaha,” “Why do I love watching you update about this young lady so much hahahaha,” “Damn, even cold men in love can become comedians, is this what love is?” “Hahahahaha, grass, even you, Chong-god, have such a day.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi was momentarily stunned. She crawled out of bed, just about to go to the bathroom to argue with the man—
At that moment, her editor, seemingly unwilling to let her off the hook, called her.
“Have you arrived in Chongli?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Ah, then rest for a few days, and after that, prepare to start the event. You’re the only one going from our website, so be on your best behavior and don’t embarrass us. Be polite when you meet the big shots, I hear they can be quite temperamental…”
Wei Zhi was silent for a moment: “I agree with that statement.”
“What’s wrong,” the editor asked, “Did you have a fight with your big shot boyfriend?”
“No,” Wei Zhi lazily rolled over on the bed, “It’s just that when it comes to teaching and answering questions, he’s not very good. He lacks patience and doesn’t have much love to give— Thankfully, he’s not the big shot coming to participate in the event and be interviewed, otherwise, I can’t even imagine how bloody the scene would be—”
“You didn’t ask, maybe it really is him.”
“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha *hiccup*.”
Wei Zhi glanced at the bathroom, and amidst the sound of running water, she stopped laughing and said expressionlessly, “It’s the middle of the night, are you trying to scare someone with ghost stories?”