In the afternoon, Wei Zhi appeared with her board, looking as determined as if preparing for the Winter Olympics. Shan Chong had just taken out his park board, ready to join Lao Yan and the others in the terrain park, when he saw his girlfriend approaching from afar. He put the board back and switched to the Mach, looking her up and down: “Why are you here?”
“Couldn’t sit still.”
Wei Zhi reached out to touch her boyfriend’s Mach board. Unlike other flashy snowboards, this one was said to be made of carbon fiber, pure black with just a small Gray tree logo on the back. Simple and versatile, it looked particularly stylish—
It would match well with any snowsuit.
As she was touching it, the board was pulled away slightly. She curiously looked up at the man in front of her, who said expressionlessly: “…9,980 yuan. If you want one, buy it yourself.”
Wei Zhi withdrew her hand: “What benefit do I get from having you as a boyfriend?”
Shan Chong: “I can find you a gear shop that will give you the pre-sale price with a 10% discount.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi pointed to the ski school behind her: “The other day I overheard people talking, saying that any instructor there can get this discount at any gear shop on the top of the mountain.”
“Those shops don’t sell Mach boards.”
“…”
Wei Zhi rolled her eyes dramatically, pulled down her goggles, and dragged her boyfriend onto the chairlift—
Lao Yan had classes in the afternoon, and the carving instructor wasn’t around, so she had to make do with her boyfriend. Besides, her legs and stomach were sore, and she couldn’t carve much anyway, so she decided to practice switch riding on the advanced slope.
Wei Zhi’s switch riding was terrible. Back in Guangrong, she was as stiff as a zombie even in the snowplow position. Now that she had switched to a regular stance, riding switch was like riding backward, making it even more difficult.
“I thought you changed to a regular stance just because you didn’t want to practice switch,” Shan Chong said. “Turns out that’s not the case?”
“No,” Wei Zhi said seriously, “I’m going to learn flat spins in the future, and don’t you need to know a bit of switch riding for that?”
“Not necessary,” Shan Chong said. “For any trick, even if you land switch, can’t you just hop a 180 on the spot to get back to regular?”
“You’re quite the opportunist.”
“It’s called using your brain,” the man said lazily, glancing at her. “Besides, watching your switch riding is painful. You don’t want to practice, and you think I want to teach?”
“…”
Look at that!
This is how men become careless after getting what they want—
In the past, he would never have spoken so recklessly. When she said she wanted to learn something, at most he would tactfully say “It’s not the right time yet.” When did he ever directly say “I don’t want to teach”?
Wei Zhi ignored him.
When they reached the top, she bent down to put on her board. As soon as she finished, the man’s hand reached out.
She swatted it away without looking up.
Shan Chong: “Then I’m leaving.”
As soon as he said that, she reached out and grabbed his pinky finger, squeezing it.
The man said nothing but turned his hand to grasp her paw in his palm. With a gentle tug, she unexpectedly crashed into his arms on her snowboard—
With a soft “poof.”
The man expressionlessly steadied her waist with one hand.
Wei Zhi hadn’t put on her face mask yet, and her nose tip pressed against his snow jacket zipper. Leaning against his chest, she could hear his steady heartbeat through the jacket…
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze as he looked down.
Wei Zhi: “Let go.”
As soon as her fierce words fell, she saw the man’s eyes narrow slightly, probably chuckling as he said: “So fierce.”
They didn’t need to start switching riding practice from the falling leaf technique. The problem was that when changing edges, she unconsciously used her right foot to twist the board first, then moved her right foot forward, throwing off her center of gravity and making everything go wrong.
Shan Chong watched Wei Zhi make a few attempts, seeing her fall so much that the entire slope was covered in her tumbling tracks. He felt sorry for her. He went up to her, reached out to pull her up from the snow, and brushed the snow off her face: “You’ve started learning advanced techniques, but you’ve forgotten the beginner techniques like snow plowing and edge changing. Remember what I told you when learning to carve? Don’t twist the board, let the board carry you. Edge changes rely on applying pressure to the edges, and it will naturally turn.”
He guided Wei Zhi through a couple of edge changes.
At his level, pure edge changes were as easy as drinking water. He didn’t even need to look where he was going, just kept his eyes on Wei Zhi’s feet. Whenever she started to twist the board, he would immediately remind her—
“Don’t twist, just follow through, that’s right.”
“You’re twisting again. Apply pressure with both feet simultaneously, pressure on the front edge… see, didn’t it come around?”
“Finish this edge, then change. Don’t twist! I’ll break your legs!”
“Are your legs itchy or something?”
“Why do you insist on that one twist?”
“Both feet at the same time, apply pressure, step on the back edge, step—”
Half the mountain could hear him lecturing.
Some people heard his voice and couldn’t help but stop and look. From a distance, they could see Shan Chong holding hands with a young girl while changing edges.
It was quite a novelty.
After changing two edges, someone stared ambiguously at the hands the man was holding through their goggles. The person wearing a face mask couldn’t be identified, probably someone from the disciple group: “Hey, Brother Chong, teaching a newbie again? That’s rare. Holding hands to change edges and all, where’s your wife? If she knew—”
Wei Zhi blinked, about to ask if this guy was face-blind.
Before she could speak, her chin was grabbed and turned towards the newcomer. The man lifted her goggles, and his calm voice sounded in her ear: “My wife is right here.”
Bystander: “…”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi swatted his hand away, pulling down her goggles in embarrassment. She heard the would-be gossiper let out an “Ah” and scratch his chin: “So it’s Sister-in-law. You’ve been back and forth between Chongli, Xinjiang, and Guangrong four times, and you still need to hold hands to change edges. Is this romance or—”
Before he could finish, Shan Chong started laughing beside them.
“I’m practicing switch riding!” Wei Zhi wanted to die of embarrassment. “Isn’t switch riding like a whole different world?”
The person let out an “Oh,” looked down at her board, mumbled “regular stance,” then made some casual small talk before fleeing. When only Wei Zhi and Shan Chong were left on the slope, they simply sat down to rest.
The man took off his gloves and put them under her bottom for her to sit on. He leaned against the slope’s side net, checking his phone. In the group chat, countless mentions were asking where he was and when he’d be coming to the terrain park… After a while, someone popped up saying, don’t bother calling, Brother Chong is on the advanced B slope holding hands with his wife to change edges.
[Lao Yan: @ck-Chong How many wives do you have exactly?]
[Backstabber: @Little Girl Ji Look, you miss one day and he’s already holding hands with someone else on the slopes. There are so many players in the snow world, except for me.]
Shan Chong snorted coldly at his phone.
[ck-Chong: Teaching her switch riding.]
[ck-Chong: How many wives? Just this one is exhausting enough.]
[ck-Chong: Taking this one out, I wouldn’t teach anyone slope progression and edge changes even for 100 million.]
Wei Zhi looked up from her phone: “Exhausting?”
Shan Chong glanced at her.
Wei Zhi: “Are you as exhausted as I am?”
Shan Chong took off his goggles and wiped them, thought for a moment, then looked up and asked: “When do you mean?”
Wei Zhi grabbed a handful of snow, made a ball, and threw it at his face.
With a “splat,” the snowball exploded on the man’s face. He didn’t get angry, just sat on the net and bounced a couple of times. Looking around to make sure no one was there, he hooked down his face mask to his chin with one hand, revealing that devastatingly handsome face. He leaned over and said: “Shall I carry you down later?”
He was like a completely different person from the devil on the slope earlier who had been holding her hand and threatening to chop off her legs.
The man straightened up, smiling.
Just then, a ski resort photographer passed by on the slope. These photographers randomly take snapshots on the slopes and upload them to the Huabei app, where skiers can find and purchase photos of themselves from the corresponding resort and period…
The photographer unexpectedly turned his head and saw a familiar figure sitting by the slope, with a girl in a white snowsuit crouching beside him—
At first glance, it seemed he was giving a lecture. Upon closer inspection, however, he was looking down at her with a smile, his eyebrows relaxed and eyes gentle.
Behind them stood a small forest at the summit’s ski resort. The wooded area was deserted, leaving just the two of them on the quiet snow-covered slope. The young woman kept her head down, refusing to meet his gaze, while the man’s eyes never left her.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the trees behind them as the photographer raised their camera.
…
On her first run down the slope, Wei Zhi immediately experienced the agony of learning to carve turns. Skiing backward, from beginner to giving up, took only three kilometers of ski run.
Sitting in the cable car for her second ascent, Wei Zhi rested her chin on her hand, gazing out the window. She pondered whether to continue skiing backward or reluctantly let her boyfriend teach her to carve.
The man bent down slightly to look at her, assessing her current emotional state before hesitantly speaking up: “Lost in thought?”
Wei Zhi glanced at him, her lips parting to speak, when he continued: “Don’t space out. Analyze why you kept falling earlier. Why is it so hard for you to edge and turn when I tell you to? You need to focus on twisting the board—”
“Oh, come on,” Wei Zhi interjected.
“‘Come on’ my foot. Can’t you use your brain?” Shan Chong said expressionlessly.
“If I could control myself not to twist the board, what would I need you for?” Wei Zhi kicked him lightly. “Just be quiet.”
“You want me to be quiet?”
He was at a loss for words and was about to lecture her further when the other passengers in the cable car began to laugh. A middle-aged man who recognized Shan Chong asked with a smile, “Is this your girlfriend?”
Shan Chong glanced at the uncooperative young woman and grunted in affirmation, thinking to himself that no student would dare tell him to be quiet.
“Girlfriends are always hard to teach,” the man chuckled.
Shan Chong leaned back lazily, his expression relaxed: “Can’t be helped. When you choose your girlfriend, no matter how slow she is, you have to teach her even if it makes you cry… Don’t date; it slows down your carving progress.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a hand reached out from beside him. He caught it naturally and tucked it into his pocket, intertwining their fingers.
At that moment, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and answered with a relaxed “Hello,” addressing the caller as “Mom.”
Wei Zhi, who had been looking out the window, turned her head towards him.
Shan Chong, caught off guard, assumed his mother was calling about some trivial matter. He didn’t expect her to start with: “What have you done to bully your sister again?”
Her voice was loud enough for everyone in the cable car to hear.
Fortunately, Shan Chong had good psychological resilience. He thought for a moment, confirming that he only had one sister, and asked calmly, “Shan Shan? How did I bully her?”
“Why did you make her delete Little Duo from her contacts? They’ve been friends for so many years! How can you, as her brother, always meddle in useless things? You’re not even at home, yet you’re controlling who your sister befriends. You think you’re so capable!”
Shan Chong held the phone, drawling an “Ah” in an unrepentant tone. After a moment, he said nonchalantly, “If I told her to delete him and she did, then if they’re friends, can’t she just add him back?”
“You’re just making unnecessary trouble!”
“Mom, please be civil. We’re in a cable car, and everyone can hear you.”
“Your sister cried!”
“She cries every day,” Shan Chong remained unfazed. “She’ll be fine after a while.”
“What do you mean she’ll be fine? You need to fix this! Really, how can someone your age still be so childish? You’re never home and you’re still causing problems!”
She hung up after her tirade, leaving Shan Chong with ringing ears. Under the awkward gazes of the other passengers, he maintained his composure and quickly analyzed the situation: Shan Shan must have deleted Dai Duo, sent him a screenshot, and then tried to add him back…
And Dai Duo, being his usual problematic self, probably didn’t accept her friend request.
Shan Chong thought for a moment, then sent a message to his group chat, asking if anyone had seen someone resembling Dai Duo nearby.
If they had, he wanted to be notified. Not that he intended to ask Dai Duo to add his sister back—that was beneath him. He just wanted to call Shan Shan in front of Dai Duo, let her cry for him to hear, and see if he could withstand not adding her back. Shan Chong found the idea quite amusing.
…
When they reached the top, Shan Chong initially thought Dai Duo was at the neighboring Yunding ski resort and considered skiing over to find him.
However, after a while, one of his apprentices sent a photo saying Dai Duo was at the mid-mountain ski area.
Shan Chong tried calling Dai Duo several times, but the bastard either didn’t check his phone while at the jump or was deliberately ignoring him. With no response, Shan Chong, despite claiming he wouldn’t interfere with his sister’s affairs, felt obligated to clean up the mess he’d started. He reluctantly decided to go there in person.
The mid-mountain ski area was where Wei Zhi had ventured out alone last time, encountered people from Wantong Hall, got tricked into the park, and ended up leaving in a wheelchair after a fall. Just hearing the name of the place made her pupils dilate in fear.
“It’s fine. Every year, dozens, if not hundreds, leave that place in wheelchairs,” the man said airily. “It’s been so long; who would still remember you?”
She wasn’t a celebrity, after all.
Wei Zhi found his reasoning quite logical. Moreover, her curiosity about Shan Shan and Dai Duo’s situation was piqued. Steeling herself, she decided to go along.
At that moment, she forgot that while she might not be famous, her instructor-turned-boyfriend certainly was.
An hour later, they arrived at the mid-mountain ski area.
Today, the mid-mountain ski area was as lively as ever, maintaining its unique atmosphere. Despite the current environment of mandatory quarantine upon arrival, there was an inexplicable surge of foreign visitors. At the entrance to the ski equipment hall, a large platform had been set up, apparently for some kind of cup competition. The promotional stand was for race registration, with banners displaying numerous big-brand sponsors. Staff members were handing out flyers, and several foreign visitors had gathered around, looking on with interest.
Wei Zhi overheard the foreign visitors cheerfully discussing signing up as she passed by.
Listening intently, she was also handed a flyer. She glanced at it, noticing first that the top prize was 30,000 yuan, and second that there was a big air competition.
She instinctively turned to look at Shan Chong, but he walked past the platform without so much as a sideways glance.
Wei Zhi thought for a moment, then folded the flyer and put it in her pocket before following him onto the cable car with her snowboard.
The park at the mid-mountain ski area was quite large, with a full range of terrain features including various jumps and a half-pipe. Upon arrival, Wei Zhi was still crouching to fasten her bindings when she heard someone call out to Shan Chong, asking why he had come.
Before Shan Chong could respond, the person exclaimed, “Oh! Isn’t this the girl who left in a wheelchair last time? What’s this, have you been training hard for two months so your instructor could bring you back to redeem yourself?”
Wei Zhi’s hand trembled, causing her to misalign the binding.
She straightened up and turned to look at the man beside her. He raised his hand and gently helped her adjust her face mask, saying, “Occasionally there’s someone with a good memory, but can’t be helped… There, with the mask on, they won’t recognize you.”
Wei Zhi bit back the curse words that threatened to escape.
As they were talking, a familiar figure emerged from the jump behind them—
Crouching at the takeoff point, preparing to jump.
Their body stretched as he left the jump.
Side flip.
Another flip.
Triple flip.
Double cork 1080.
The snowboard made a dull sound as it hit the ground, but after the perfect aerial maneuver, the rider wobbled slightly forward. In a situation that could have been easily avoided, he failed to engage his core and fell lightly.
He lay on the ground for a moment before slowly getting up.
Wei Zhi heard the man beside her click his tongue when the rider fell, but before he could say anything, she noticed two foreign snowboarders leaning against the side of the run, having just watched Dai Duo’s jump.
They chatted among themselves, their voices neither loud nor soft. The strong wind at the mid-mountain area made it difficult for Wei Zhi to catch everything, but she got the gist of it—
They were saying something about how the park features here were still not up to par.
How could the Beijing Winter Olympics next year be held here? Ice and snow events should be in Europe or America, with Japan being acceptable too.
The other person countered, saying that China’s snow sports had been developing rapidly in recent years. While they hadn’t won many medals at the Olympics, they had achieved some results in other competitions.
The first speaker then said that putting everything else aside, just looking at the double cork, a certain athlete in their country had already reached some level (which Wei Zhi didn’t understand) with that trick, and that athlete wasn’t even considered top-tier in their country…
And so on.
The person used many technical terms that Jiang Nanfeng might have fully understood, but Wei Zhi could barely follow. After a while, she grew tired of listening.
She also couldn’t be bothered to hear them prattle on—
If you have so many complaints, the Winter Olympics will still be in Beijing next year. If you’re not satisfied, write a complaint letter to the Olympic Organizing Committee!
After fastening her board, she turned her head, about to call out to Shan Chong that she was ready to enter the park. However, she found the man leaning on the railing at the park entrance, his head tilted, listening intently to the two foreigners talking.
Wei Zhi paused. At that moment, probably sensing her gaze, the man unhurriedly turned his head, looking down at her with a calm expression, and asked, “What is it?”
The young woman looked up at him, focusing on the light mole on the bridge of his nose: “Don’t tell me you understood all of that.”
The man brushed the snow off his hands and slowly put on his gloves, saying leisurely, “Surprised? Your boyfriend passed the first-tier university cultural line to enter sports school back then—after all, I was poor and needed a scholarship.”
“…”
“So don’t worry about lowering our future child’s IQ,” he said, patting her head gently with his gloved hand. “If it turns out not to be very smart, it definitely won’t be because of me.”