At the top of the big jump, a man in black ski gear prepared to launch—
He relaxed and glided on his edges for a few meters before straightening out on the jump. The long ramp allowed him to build up tremendous speed. Those watching from below could only see him transform into a tiny black dot as he flew off the jump.
He soared high, reaching an even greater height than Dai Duo at the moment of takeoff.
Carried by the momentum of his jump, instead of grabbing his board, he let the inertia flip him sideways. His snowboard rotated twice as his body leaned slightly forward. With a loud “thwack”, he landed heavily on the front edge of his board.
A double cork 720!
After completing one of the most difficult tricks in snowboarding or skiing, the man’s landing was a bit shaky. His board slid and spun a few times on the snow. But with a slight push of his feet, he regained his balance and stood firmly. He carved forward a few meters before coming to a stop.
The tall figure in black paused, then bent down to remove his board.
As he picked up his snowboard and turned around, Wei Zhi quickly ducked behind the crowd—
Being short had its advantages. The big guy writing the figure skating novel stood in front of her like a wall, completely shielding her from view.
Wei Zhi stood among the crowd, listening to her fellow spectators chatter excitedly:
“Holy crap, what was that?! Who is that guy? Is it just me or does he look kind of hot? I can’t even see his face with the goggles and face mask!”
“That was amazing too. So impressive.”
“Did you see how he twisted in the air? That waist – it was unbelievable! It took my breath away!”
“I want to learn to ski now, wow!”
— This was the women’s version.
Hiding in the crowd with her hands in her pockets, Wei Zhi couldn’t help but defend her territory: “Oh, I know that guy. I think he has a girlfriend.”
“He didn’t spin as many times as the previous guy.”
“The previous one was more impressive.”
“But didn’t the previous guy fall? How do they score this sport? Is it like diving where falling is like belly-flopping into the water?”
“The previous guy was still better. He was just cooler, spinning so many times!”
— This was the men’s version.
Still hiding and protecting her man, Wei Zhi chimed in: “The previous guy did a backside cork 1800. This one just did a double cork 720. Ignoring the fact that the first guy didn’t stick the landing, the second trick has the highest difficulty rating for big air jumps. Being able to rotate twice is already impressive. In a competition, this might not necessarily score lower than the first one.”
Wei Zhi’s comments drew attention from those around her.
People looked around trying to find who was speaking. After searching for a while, they finally spotted a tiny girl crouched behind a guy as tall as a door, hunched like a squirrel.
Spectator A: “How do you know so much about this?”
Spectator B: “She writes about this stuff… Didn’t she talk to that guy in white earlier?”
Spectator C: “Can you ski too? You must have a lot of free time to learn all this. Don’t you need to update your stories?”
Spectator D: “You know the guy in black too? How do you know he has a girlfriend?!”
Spectator E: “He has a girlfriend? I guess it makes sense. Someone who’s great at skiing and good-looking probably wouldn’t be single… My heart is broken.”
As the crowd chattered away, in their minds, Dai Duo and Shan Chong had become the dynamic duo in black and white.
Wei Zhi wanted to tell everyone that the guy in black did have a girlfriend – it was her! But she didn’t have the courage. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shan Chong walking towards them with his board. Her legs went weak and she hid further behind the tall figure-skating guy, whispering, “They’re both pretty famous. It’s normal to know who they are, right?”
This seemed to satisfy the crowd’s curiosity.
By now, Shan Chong had reached the group—
He hadn’t originally planned to come over.
But after landing his jump and bending down to remove his board, he glanced at the crowd and spotted a pair of pale legs among all the middle-aged people in jeans…
Well, not exactly pale legs. There was just a strip of skin visible between the black miniskirt and tall boots. The girl was naturally fair-skinned, and the black outfit made that small exposed area stand out even more starkly.
He spotted her immediately.
Those legs had been at the front of the course initially, but as soon as he started undoing one of his bindings, she quickly retreated, sneakily moving to the center of the crowd and taking shelter behind a young, chubby guy who was about twice her width.
Shan Chong straightened up and shamelessly scanned the area through his goggles. From his higher vantage point, he could see that his little girlfriend was indeed well hidden in the crowd.
…Hidden?
What was she hiding for?
If she had obediently worn pants as he told her to this morning, he might not have even noticed her.
He chuckled behind his face mask.
So he changed direction and headed over, board in tow.
Standing in front of the crowd, the man pushed up his goggles. With his face mask still on, only his dark eyes were visible – sharp as knives, naturally commanding respect.
The light brown mole on the bridge of his nose drew people’s gazes, making them imagine the devastatingly handsome face hidden beneath the mask.
Tossing aside his snowboard, the man leaned against the railing and chatted casually with the event organizer. Just the usual “Thanks for your help this afternoon” and “It’s no trouble at all” type of exchange. He seemed oblivious to the admiring sighs from the crowd behind the organizer…
But he was acutely aware of one furtive gaze fixed on his face from within the crowd.
His fingers twitched slightly.
He felt a bit mischievous.
“Don’t ask any tricky questions this afternoon,” the man said, his voice unusually gentle. “I can only answer questions about snowboarding. Anything else is beyond me.”
“Of course not,” the organizer waved his hand dismissively. “We’ll screen the people asking questions!”
“Mm, make sure you choose the representatives for questions carefully then.”
“Absolutely.”
Shan Chong snickered, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. His gaze swept casually over the crowd before he nodded slightly and said, “Alright then.”
Feeling that burning gaze from the crowd still fixed on him, he decided he’d had enough fun. He straightened up, bent to pick up his snowboard, and lazily waved in the direction of the crowd—
To all appearances, he was just waving goodbye to all his eager admirers before turning to leave.
After the man left and returned to the jump area, Wei Zhi’s mind went blank—
All that remained were scrolling comments occupying her thoughts:
Did he see me? He shouldn’t have seen me, I hid so well. He definitely couldn’t have seen me. If he saw me he would’ve come to say hi. But what if he did it on purpose? He wouldn’t do that on purpose, would he? What’s at the edge of the universe? What’s the pinnacle of skiing? Where does a man’s base nature lie…
The girl next to her nudged her with an elbow, grinning teasingly: “Hey, otaku writer, if you know people in the ski world, can you ask them to let us know when this hottie breaks up with his girlfriend? Make sure to announce it to the world.”
Wei Zhi swayed a bit from the nudge.
Gradually coming out of her daze.
Wei Zhi: “Oh.”
Wei Zhi: “You probably won’t have to wait too long for that.”
Wei Zhi: “Tomorrow.”
The girl fell silent for a moment, then added quietly—
“Tonight at the earliest.”
…
At lunch, Wei Zhi sighed for the eighth time while staring at her food tray.
Her phone vibrated. She glanced at it, seeing the familiar Crayon Shin-chan avatar with an unread message notification in bright red. For the first time, she wasn’t so eager to check it.
[Chong: A group of people came to the jump area this morning, seems like they’re here for some event this afternoon… Were you among them?]
Wei Zhi’s hand went limp, nearly dropping her phone into her soup bowl.
[Chong: I remember you mentioning an event. They had the same badge you were wearing this morning.]
Wei Zhi sighed.
[Little Girl Chirp: Probably not the same group. Those were entertainment industry people. I’m in the social sciences group.]
She just prayed that Dai Duo had maintained his dignity as the “Captain of the I Hate Shan Chong Club” this morning and hadn’t said a word to Shan Chong—
Not a single word.
Staring at her phone screen, she saw his very calm reply of “Oh”, followed by two words—
[Chong: Alright then.]
Looking at those two words, Wei Zhi once again began to question her life choices, never imagining that over a decade after graduating from elementary school, she’d still be doing reading comprehension exercises on two-word responses.
The comments in her head started scrolling again: What does he mean by “Alright then”? Why does that “then” sound so reluctant? Why does this feel like the calm before a storm? Is he testing me or giving me a chance to confess? But that doesn’t make sense, he shouldn’t have seen me. I hid so well. He doesn’t have X-ray vision…
Wei Zhi’s fingers hovered over her phone keyboard as she hesitated over what to say. Just then, the event organizer came over again and tapped on the table in front of her.
She looked up from her phone in confusion.
“I looked through the materials, and it seems you’re the only one here writing about snowboarding, specifically about big air snowboarding,” the organizer said. “So for the Q&A session with the pro this afternoon in the conference room, prepare a few questions.”
Wei Zhi: “?”
Wei Zhi: “What?”
The organizer saw the young girl looking up at him with a blank expression, unsure if she was too excited or what, and couldn’t help but sigh: “The Q&A session! Prepare a few questions!”
Wei Zhi: “…Q&A session?”
Organizer: “Yeah.”
Wei Zhi: “What’s a Q&A session? Isn’t the pro just going to sit up there and read a speech while we listen quietly?”
Organizer: “No… Even for a press conference, there’s always a Q&A portion, right?”
Organizer: “Just prepare a few questions. It’ll be quick.”
Wei Zhi blinked. Quick? It’d be quicker to prepare my coffin.
Wei Zhi: “But I don’t have any questions.”
Wei Zhi: “I, I, I don’t want to ask questions.”
Wei Zhi: “Actually, my head hurts. I might have a fever. For public safety, I’d like to request sick leave this afternoon to go to the hospital for a COVID test.”
The girl’s trembling seemed so genuine that the organizer couldn’t help but sigh, thinking it was indeed a bit much to ask these people who usually just write and draw at their computers to do this kind of thing. His gaze towards her became full of pity…
As well as unyielding.
“The pro won’t eat you.”
“He will,” clutching her phone and looking at the words “I’m in social sciences” she had written so confidently, Wei Zhi felt like crying. Tears were welling up in her eyes. “He really will eat me.”
…
No one bought Wei Zhi’s pitiful act.
After lunch, she was herded like a duck towards the hotel conference room. On the way, she suddenly remembered that day in the car when Shan Chong mentioned a sponsor inviting him to Zhangjiakou for an event…
He had refused at the time.
She had been so excited, thinking what a coincidence it was that she was also going to Zhangjiakou, and urged him to accept.
…What kind of idiocy was that?
The name tag on her chest only had two characters: “Wei Zhi”. If Wei Zhi still held onto a last shred of hope before reaching the conference room, when she saw the large placard on the table that read “Chirp’s Otaku”, she nearly blacked out.
She flipped the placard face down with a “thud”.
Organizer: “Otaku, what are you doing?!”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi grimly put the placard back up.
Then, as everyone bustled about finding their assigned seats, there was a commotion at the door. Looking back, she saw several people with a different aura entering in small groups. There were both men and women, some wearing jackets with the national flag.
Shan Chong was the last to enter. He had taken off his ski jacket and was wearing a sweatshirt. He was turning to talk to another person who was slightly taller than him, also wearing the national snow sports team uniform.
The two seemed relaxed, appearing to be chatting casually.
As they were talking, the man seemed to sense something. He glanced up casually and made eye contact with the young woman who was frozen in place, staring at him.
Their eyes only met for two or three seconds.
But to Wei Zhi, it felt like an eternity.
Those pitch-black eyes revealed little emotion. They just scanned her up and down, finally pausing for a few seconds on the placard in front of Wei Zhi.
He raised his hand, removed his mask, stared at her, and silently mouthed the words “social sciences”.
As Wei Zhi’s hair stood on end, he put his mask back on and nonchalantly looked away.
Wei Zhi felt like she had just danced the samba on the King of Hell’s desk—
She wasn’t dead yet.
But she was pretty close.
She watched helplessly as her boyfriend unhurriedly made his way to the stage with the other VIPs to sit in the special seats. Now they were sitting face to face, and the man’s gaze fell on her rather shamelessly.
The stage lights were so bright that Wei Zhi couldn’t even deceive herself into thinking he couldn’t see the placard in front of her.
If hell had a specific appearance, it would probably look like the conference room of the Yunding Miyuan Hotel.
She couldn’t remember anything that happened during the entire meeting – what segments there were, what slogans were chanted. It seemed each VIP got up to talk about the characteristics of their snow sports specialty, the related Olympic events, and future development prospects.
Snowboarding, as a sport that had become popular in recent years, was saved for last as the main event—
This was going to be broadcast.
Snowboarding competitions in the Winter Olympics were truly an area lacking in medals. The officials had high hopes for the future development of snowboarding, so they were quite particular in selecting speakers.
Based on the previous speakers, Shan Chong was the only retired, non-active athlete present. However, the man’s image was so good that when it was his turn to speak, the camera zoomed in a bit—
The man spoke about Winter Olympic prospects and the current promotion of winter sports domestically. His tone was natural and steady, showing no signs of nervousness or excessive enthusiasm. He briefly introduced the different styles of snowboarding and the differences and similarities with skiing.
After he finished speaking, the microphone was thrust into Wei Zhi’s hands.
It was like the imperial sword—
The kind given to her for suicide.
Gripping the microphone, as the host of the interactive session addressed her as “Great Otaku” making her dizzy and weak-kneed, they seemed determined to finish her off by saying: “Coincidentally, the content created by our Great Otaku here aligns perfectly with Chong God’s specialty…”
Wei Zhi: “…”
It wasn’t a coincidence.
Host: “May I ask why the Otaku Madam suddenly decided to create works related to snowboarding big air? And from what I understand, the protagonist is also a big air athlete on the verge of retirement—”
Wei Zhi clutched the microphone.
She could feel the man on stage smiling at her.
That smile…
Was certainly not benevolent.
Her mind went blank. Under the man’s gaze, she felt like she might wet herself. She turned to the host: “Weren’t you supposed to ask him questions? Why are you asking me… I mean, uh, can we cut this part?”
The audience burst into laughter.
Gripping the microphone, the young woman was as embarrassed as a cooked shrimp, with steam practically coming out of her head. The host smoothly said: “Haha, it seems our Great Otaku has many questions she wants to ask Chong God. She can’t wait!”
Can’t. Wait!
Wei Zhi’s toes curled inside her shoes. She wished she could dig a hole with her toes and bury herself so deep that not even an archaeological excavator could dig her out.
At this moment, the man on stage smiled and said: “Don’t be nervous.”
How gentle.
Everyone in the room was touched by his gentleness. The young ladies stirred with excitement. If there was a vote for the most popular VIP today, he’d probably win unanimously.
Wei Zhi felt like he was going to be the death of her. Why did this man never do anything good? Whenever she tried to sneak around or do anything sneaky, he would catch her…
And then publicly execute her!
Couldn’t he just be kind and loving towards her for once?
It was infuriating!
Thinking this, she felt a bit rebellious. She gripped the microphone and said: “I can snowboard. On a single board.”
On stage, the man lazily curled his lip: “Is that so?”
“I’ve heard… that snowboarding started later because, compared to skiing, it’s not very beginner-friendly. A good instructor plays an important role in guiding and encouraging brave newcomers who want to try snowboarding,” the young woman raised her eyes slightly. “As someone who treats snowboarding like eating and drinking, how do you deal with hardworking beginners who seem unable to improve no matter how much they practice?”
Harsh.
Sigh.
Record a video for public execution.
“I don’t teach beginners,” the man said very honestly. “Maybe it’s as you said – I lack compassion.”
His words made everyone laugh.
Wei Zhi wanted to laugh too—
What are you all laughing at? He’s telling the absolute truth.
On stage, Shan Chong glanced down at her, thinking she had quite a rebellious spirit.
It seemed she had quite a few grievances against him as her mentor.
Although his school tended to produce rebellious disciples…
He still needed to correct the wayward trends in his school.
“I’m not very good at praising people. While it’s certainly admirable to bravely try various styles of snowboarding, in my opinion, we should also pay tribute to those tireless instructors working on the front lines of ski resorts. They willingly take off their snowboards to teach every beginner hands-on.”
The man paused—
“We must have a conscience. When you’re cruising in Niseko, Japan, or tearing it up in Hakuba, Nagano, or carving through Yiwen Avenue in Xinjiang, or hunching down to pass through the small forest at Wanlong in Zhangjiakou… Don’t forget the person who knelt in the snow teaching you how to get up and how to slide. He—”
Wei Zhi finished his sentence.
“He took me to what looked like a 7km advanced run after the cable car closed and said: ‘Today, you either push your way down this slope, or I’ll come to collect your corpse in the morning.'”
She spoke with genuine feeling.
So genuine that it was a bit gruesome. The people around her turned to give her sympathetic looks.
“You must have done something to him,” the man on stage said with a flawless smile. “Normal instructors wouldn’t be that harsh.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Just look in the mirror, he was born that harsh.
“It’s just that for the past few days, I didn’t let him take off that face mask.”
“Why?”
“This way, no matter how mean his mouth is, I can imagine him as someone I like and forgive him.”
“Who?”
“Takeshi Kaneshiro… Takuya Kimura works too.”
“…”
“…”
Sitting on the stage.
The man holding the microphone sat up straighter, the curve of his lips unchanging. Looking at the young woman, his thin lips parted, uttering three words that instantly confused everyone present—
“You deserve it.”