November 16, 2024, Zhangjiakou, Chongli, Summit Ski Resort.
The ski season had officially begun.
The familiar equipment hall at the summit bustled with activity. The Winter Olympics had successfully concluded, leaving behind three hundred million people eagerly awaiting winter, ready to flock to the slopes en masse each year.
In the locker area’s rest zone, a man stood behind an open locker door, slowly donning his ski suit. Not far from him, on a long bench, sat two girls—one big, one small.
The older girl wore pink overalls with a white hoodie underneath. Her long, curly hair was casually tied back. She sat hunched over, focused on the ice cream in her hand.
Next to her was a toddler dressed in a Stella Lou onesie. Likely due to the thick layers underneath, her arms and legs looked plump, with the character’s ears perked up on her head. She, too, was engrossed in her ice cream.
Wei Zhi turned to glance at her daughter’s ice cream and frowned. “It’s about to melt all over your hands. I told you we could share one. Your hands will get all sticky—let your dad help you eat some.”
Shan Xinyue looked at her ice cream, now a melting mess dripping down the cone. She hesitated before extending her hand towards the locker door.
The man, steadying himself against the locker, peeked out. One look at the gooey mess in Shan Xinyue’s hand made him pause. “You try to feed me everything. What did I do wrong as a father?”
Wei Zhi took the ice cream from her daughter’s hand, quickly finished it off, and pulled out a wet wipe to clean the child’s hands. With downcast eyes, she told her daughter, “See? On the way here, you kept calling ‘Daddy, Daddy’ sweeter than an oriole’s song. But does your dad pay any attention to you?”
Shan Chong: “…”
Shan Chong: “Are you trying to drive a wedge between us?”
Wei Zhi: “Well, you could be smoother about it. Don’t give me reasons to criticize.”
The man expressionlessly pulled out a face guard from his snowboard bag and put it on.
Just as he finished, a group passing by the lockers suddenly stopped, took a couple of steps back, and peered in their direction.
Wei Zhi was still bent over, wiping her daughter’s hands.
“Chong God?” one of them tentatively asked. “Is that you?”
Shan Chong grunted in affirmation, his voice deep and magnetic—the familiar tone often heard giving remote instructions in their group chats.
Simultaneously, Wei Zhi, who had been looking down, raised her head to glance at the newcomers. One of them exclaimed, “Oh!” It was one of Shan Chong’s disciples from the group chat, nicknamed “Horizon of Marrakech”…
Years had passed, but he still looked only about 22 or 23, just a youngster.
Horizon first called out “Sister-in-law,” then turned his gaze to Shan Xinyue, who was peeking out. “Ah!” he exclaimed, “Little Man is here too!”
Little Man was Shan Xinyue’s nickname. Originally, she was just called “Full Moon,” but nicknames tend to evolve—from “Stinky Baby” to “Sweetie” to “Man-Man” to “Yue-Yue” to “Stinky-Stinky,” finally settling on “Little Man,” a nickname both cute and endearing.
Shan Xinyue didn’t recognize this unfamiliar brother. Her almond-shaped eyes darted around nervously, and she shyly retreated behind her mother.
Shan Chong slammed the locker door shut.
“She’s afraid of you,” he told his disciple expressionlessly and coldly. “Leave.”
Horizon: “…”
Unwilling to be dismissed just because he wasn’t appealing to children, Horizon craned his neck and persisted, “The group chat said you’d be here today, so Backstab is also at the summit resort, right? Did you come up specially?”
Hearing his roundabout preamble, Wei Zhi moved her lips, silently mouthing words that perfectly matched what Horizon blurted out next—
Horizon: “Want to hit the park?”
Wei Zhi raised her hand, absently tugging at her daughter’s rabbit ears. Then, from above and to the side, she heard her lawfully wedded husband calmly reply, “Sure.”
She looked over at him—today, as always, he was dressed entirely in black AK gear. Truthfully, based on the quirks of other big shots in the snow circle, about five years ago when skiing wasn’t as popular, wearing AK gear was equivalent to being a pro. Then, four years ago when Wei Zhi entered the scene, everyone uniformly began to think that those wearing AK during ski season were newbies.
When Wei Zhi first met Shan Chong, he was already wearing all AK gear. Why was this?
It wasn’t because a big shot didn’t care whether others thought he was a pro or not, but because as long as the ski wear wasn’t damaged, he could keep wearing it.
The black AK gear he wore now had already lasted three ski seasons… Before, he had been saving money for Shan Shan, and now that those savings were complete, Shan Chong had developed a good habit of being frugal, becoming a Niffler (a creature from the “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” series that loves to collect treasures, small and pitch-black).
And now, this Snow Circle Niffler stood there, not feeling the least bit awkward about his statement, completely justified.
Wei Zhi was a bit shocked: “What’s going on? What do you mean ‘sure’? Aren’t you going to teach our daughter how to ski?”
Hearing this, Shan Chong’s thick eyelashes lowered as he looked equally shocked: “What do you mean? Am I supposed to teach her how to push off? What about you?”
Wei Zhi: “Me? Teach? Do I have that ability?”
Shan Chong: “If you don’t have the ability, how dare you use a Red Tree (Gray high-speed carving board)?”
Wei Zhi: “Whatever tree it is, it’s just a snowboard. Anyone can use it if they want to, right?”
Shan Chong: “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re already better than 90% of the people on the slopes.”
Wei Zhi: “This is the only time you ever compliment me.”
Shan Xinyue: “So basically, you both want to play by yourselves and neither of you wants to teach me, right?”
The little girl’s crisp voice, with its standard northeastern accent, was so sharp and to the point that it made everyone around burst into laughter.
The cheerful commotion attracted the attention of others at the ski resort—
Those who appeared at the ski resort during the early season on a non-holiday were either enthusiasts or people from the snow circle. How could they not recognize Shan Chong?
Not to mention his prominence during the Winter Olympics a few years ago; anyone with eyes would know…
Now, in the entire snow circle, whether it was park, freestyle, or carving, the top experts in every style were familiar with him.
Usually, for any trivial matter or dispute, even parties completely unrelated to him would be willing to approach him, as if he were some kind of judge. His words seemed to have a final, decisive effect.
So now, seeing him, everyone’s eyes were full of admiration. They all pulled out their phones to brag to their friends—
I saw Shan Chong, yes, in the flesh, yes, the kind that talks, yes, right in front of me, I could probably even get an autograph if I asked, yes, I’ll go watch him hit the jumps later.
Amidst the expectant and reverent gazes of the crowd.
They watched as the man sighed, bent down, and picked up his daughter, cradling her against his chest…
The purple Stella Lou onesie looked round and plump. Under the envious (?) gazes of onlookers, she naturally wrapped her arms around the neck of the Snow Circle’s God of Snowboard Big Air, her short legs in small snow boots kicking a couple of times against his body.
The man lowered his eyes, patted his daughter’s bottom, and tilted his head slightly, saying softly, “Xiao Man, want to go with Daddy?”
His tone was the same as always, his expression not much different from when he talked about money or AK gear. Yet somehow, his voice at this moment inexplicably made one wonder where all the coldness of the skiing machine had melted away to, leaving only tenderness…
Shan Xinyue’s hands restlessly tugged at her father’s hair. “What about Mommy?”
Shan Chong looked at Wei Zhi.
Wei Zhi sat up a little straighter.
The man chuckled, turning his gaze back to his daughter and bouncing her gently. “Where do you think Mommy should go?”
Shan Xinyue exclaimed excitedly, “Mommy should teach me too!”
Wei Zhi: “… Come on, learning to push off doesn’t require two people—”
Shan Xinyue, still clinging to her father’s neck, squirmed in his arms until she managed to turn halfway around. She looked back at Wei Zhi with bright, eager eyes.
Shan Xinyue: “Mommy, aren’t you coming?”
No one could resist Shan Xinyue’s pitiful questioning.
Even though her acting wasn’t great, and you could practically smell the pretense…
But indeed, no one could withstand her wheedling.
Wei Zhi: “…”
Under the man’s warm, dark gaze filled with a faint smile, Wei Zhi grumbled as she stuffed her daughter’s small thermos into the backpack beside her, shouldered it, and stood up.
…
The summit ski resort wasn’t as crowded in the early season as it would be at its peak.
The lift queue wasn’t long either, so Shan Xinyue was promptly whisked onto the chairlift by her father.
The wind was quite strong outside. As soon as they left the equipment hall, Shan Xinyue was dazed by the wind, turning her face to bury it in her father’s neck…
Wei Zhi, following behind, reached out to pull up the zipper on her daughter’s onesie a bit higher.
As she stood on tiptoe, she felt the man, a head taller than her, crouch slightly to make it easier for her to fuss. He said, “We’ll put her helmet on when we get on the lift… Pull up your jacket zipper, I don’t have a free hand.”
He had been walking in front the whole time.
He hadn’t even turned back to look at her.
Wei Zhi looked down and realized she had indeed forgotten to zip up her ski jacket. “Oh, right,” she mumbled, zipping it up. Then she heard the man say, “The wind’s strong, walk behind me.”
She tucked herself behind him—
It was still cold, but he blocked most of the wind.
Wei Zhi trudged through the snow behind the man, her backpack bouncing. Hearing her uneven steps, he looked back every few paces.
Shan Xinyue: “Daddy, what are you looking at?”
“Checking on your mom,” Shan Chong said flatly. “She can barely walk straight, yet she skis pretty well.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi: “What sweet beans did you eat today? You’re being so nice.”
The man chuckled softly in the wind. “This ski season, I’m implementing a loving education model for you. Isn’t that good?”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Right, got it. [Mental image of resignation]
As they conversed, they arrived at the chairlift entrance.
While waiting for the lift, they encountered many familiar faces: Hua Yan and Yan Yan, along with several of Shan Chong’s female disciples. Seeing the family of three from afar, with the little bundle nestled in her father’s arms…
They all swarmed over, calling out “Xiao Man” repeatedly, leaving Shan Xinyue completely bewildered. She couldn’t understand where all these brothers, sisters, uncles, and aunts had suddenly appeared from…
At that moment, she didn’t yet know the term “seasonal relatives and friends.”
These people gathered in groups of three or five, congregating in the north every November to ski the whole winter. When March arrived and spring beckoned, they’d pack up their ski gear, board planes or high-speed trains, and return to their cities—
Some to Beijing, Shanghai, or Guangzhou, others to unknown small towns. Then for an entire spring, summer, and autumn, they’d work, live, spend time with their families, and wait for the next winter.
Until the following year, with the first snowfall, they’d gather again, skiing, chatting, and horsing around, as close as if they’d never been apart.
“Chong-ge, Chong-ge, oh my little Xiao Man! Come, let sister hug you!”
…
“Goodness, that nose and mouth are exactly like the master’s! But the eyes are just like my sister-in-law’s. How perfectly she’s grown! So adorable!”
…
“You’re making me want to have a daughter!”
…
“Xiao Man, call me Sister Yan Yan. Sister has a lollipop for you!”
…
“Damn, who’d have thought Chong-ge would be the first among us to bring a child skiing? Unbelievable!”
The commotion continued until they boarded the chairlift. Amidst a chorus of “Bye-bye, Xiao Man” from outside, the lift doors slowly closed, and they ascended, surrounded by sudden quiet.
Shan Xinyue yawned. She had woken up early today and, after meeting so many people and alternating between excitement and shyness, she felt a bit tired.
Shan Chong stroked his daughter’s forehead, brushed her hair aside, and let her rest her head on his lap, promising to wake her when they reached the top.
The little girl, drowsy, was perhaps the only person in the world who could enjoy the man’s tenderness without feeling overwhelmed by the special treatment. She yawned again, revealing her baby teeth.
“Daddy, why doesn’t my snowboard have two parts?”
“Because Daddy’s poor, he could only afford one board.”
“Oh, I see. So I can only ride one board, right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“If Daddy’s poor, why is Mommy poor too?”
“Just look at your mom’s dressing table, all those bottles and jars. If she’s not poor, who is—”
Wei Zhi’s gaze snapped back from the chairlift window. She kicked the man’s leg under the seat, her face dark. “Can you not talk nonsense?”
Shan Chong: “Then you try to reasonably explain the difference between snowboarding and skiing to a three-year-old.”
Wei Zhi looked at Shan Xinyue, who stared back at her.
Wei Zhi: “I’ve never even seen your dad ski on two planks. You can’t get ahead of his four years of experience.”
Shan Xinyue: “?”
Shan Chong: “…”
Shan Chong: “Are you three years old too?”
Wei Zhi puffed out her chest, eyeing him.
The man hesitated, then raised his hands to cover his daughter’s ears before saying, “This afternoon, should we leave Xiao Man with Backstab… or Lao Yan, or Hua Yan?”
Wei Zhi: “Hm?”
Shan Chong: “For skiing. Two planks.”
Wei Zhi: “Ah?”
Shan Chong: “I’ll show you.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Shan Chong: “The kind no one’s gotten ahead of.”