HomeSki into LoveChapter 112: Wooden Contestant on the Mountain

Chapter 112: Wooden Contestant on the Mountain

Regarding the matter of disguise, Wei Zhi crouched in her room before leaving, feeling as if she had just witnessed another grand performance.

Last year, an amusing incident involving a celebrity occurred at the Chongli ski resort. Superstar William Chan, after being swarmed by fans at Genting, fled to the neighboring mountain-top resort only to be caught again. As he skied down the mountain, a thousand people waited at the equipment hall entrance for photos and autographs. Desperate, he rushed to a nearby shop to buy and change into new ski gear. Donning the fresh outfit and protective goggles, he thought he was foolproof this time. However, before he could even exit the equipment hall, someone called out to him. Turning around, he saw a puzzled bystander asking, “Brother William, what are you doing here?”

Compared to the megastar, Shan Chong’s disguise skills were unparalleled. For instance, when he once shed his AK457 gear and transformed into a freestyle skiing legend wearing a hoodie, sweatpants, and a small waist bag, even Wei Zhi couldn’t recognize her master standing right in front of her.

Today, he wore neither traditional ski wear nor a hoodie. From some unknown corner, he produced a set of AK series bib pants. Wei Zhi had never seen him wear bib pants before.

Part of the Burton brand, the AK series bib pants differed from ordinary ski bibs. The black pants featured a V-shaped front design for greater freedom of movement. Paired with a white hoodie as an inner layer and topped with a black windproof balaclava…

How should one describe this look?

It was the kind of outfit that, even while queuing for the cable car at the base of the mountain, might compel you to message your friends: “I’m in line for the cable car, and there’s a pro in front of me. He must either be able to do a 720-degree spin or fly off the big jump. No amateur would dare dress like that.”

Every pore exuded the aura of a “master.”

Wei Zhi asked, “Why haven’t you dressed like this before?”

Shan Chong, having just pulled up his face protection, glanced at her reflection in the mirror. His narrow, single-lidded eyes peering over the mask held an inherently intense gaze. He squinted slightly and asked, “Does it look good?”

“It looks great,” Wei Zhi replied. “I feel like I’ve got a new pro boyfriend.”

She added, “Do you realize how long your legs look from the side now? It’s like everything below your chest is just legs.”

Shan Chong: “…”

He continued, “Do you know how cold it is to dress like this?”

Usually, he wore proper ski suits, rotating through various brands, styles, and colors. Only on sunny days would he occasionally don a hoodie and sweatpants. The type of hoodie that could be worn under bib pants typically offered neither wind nor water resistance, making him even less inclined to wear it.

Wei Zhi pondered for a moment, belatedly sensing she might have stumbled upon a pattern. She couldn’t help but ask, “Being so health-conscious, are you getting old?”

Shan Chong turned his head, saying nothing, just giving her a look.

Once in ski gear with face protection, he wasn’t her boyfriend anymore.

He was her master.

The one who, on the slopes, would casually glide behind her, hands clasped behind his back, stable as a rock while asking if she’d consider amputating her left foot if it only caused trouble.

Wei Zhi, while combing her hair, felt a chill run down her spine at his gaze. She instinctively stepped back, “Is complimenting you not allowed?”

“Complimenting my looks was the previous topic,” he clarified distinctly. “Are you calling me old?”

“Well, when you were in sixth grade, I was indeed still in first grade, not even second. If we’d met at school then, I’d have had to call you ‘big brother,'” Wei Zhi counted on her fingers. “When you think about it that way, doesn’t everything I say seem reasonable?”

“I’m not sure if you would have obediently called me ‘big brother’ if we’d met during your elementary school days, but that night…”

The man circled the room once, opening the wardrobe where his black helmet sat alongside Wei Zhi’s – hers being much more colorful to match her outfits. He casually picked up a white one, a new Bern model with a visor from this year.

He weighed the helmet in his hand.

Looking up, he continued unhurriedly, “That night, your ‘big brother’ was quite obedient and pleasant to hear.”

Fixed under the man’s dark gaze, the young woman fell silent.

It was like this.

Sometimes, a too-harmonious bedroom life could be somewhat annoying.

This was the conclusion Wei Zhi had recently drawn –

A bite of something delicious brings joy, but even the most exquisite delicacies shouldn’t be indulged in excess. Unfortunately, she had recently found herself frequently in a state of culinary overindulgence.

Overeating led to babbling, agreeing to call him whatever he wanted as long as he’d let her sleep.

Calling him “big brother” was just the tip of the iceberg.

If pushed to the limit, she might even call him “grandpa.”

But such embarrassing history wasn’t suitable to bring up early in the morning, before a competition, by the bedside.

Wei Zhi’s face remained expressionless as she snatched her helmet back.

Shan Chong, with his long legs, effortlessly reclaimed the helmet. He said calmly, “My helmet has a CK Club sticker on it. They all recognize what it looks like.”

Wei Zhi: “Peel it off.”

Shan Chong: “It’s from the annual meeting. I barely managed to get one. Peel it off?”

Wei Zhi: “…Are you the club’s manager?”

Shan Chong: “That’s why I especially cherish every cent the club spends – waterproof laser stickers are expensive, worth at least two yuan.”

Wei Zhi: “And then?”

Shan Chong: “Let me borrow your helmet.”

Wei Zhi couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity: “It’s not that I won’t lend it to you. If my helmet could follow you onto the big jump and spin a few times, it would bring glory to my ancestors-“

Shan Chong gazed at her lazily, listening to her ramble.

Sure enough, after saying “Bring glory to my ancestors,” she suddenly paused and asked, “But aren’t our heads different sizes? How can the helmet be the same size for both of us?”

Helmets come in different sizes for men and women. Too big or too small won’t work.

Hearing this, Shan Chong took her helmet and tried to put it on his head… It was a bit tight, but he managed to get it on. From the outside, it didn’t look particularly forced.

The man examined himself in the mirror from different angles, concluding that this color helmet was truly a bit effeminate and should be immediately blacklisted. He turned his head to find the young woman beside him had fallen silent upon seeing him easily put on her helmet…

Shan Chong: “…”

The man paused, took off the helmet, and said, “You can comfort yourself by thinking it’s because you have too much hair, that’s why we use the same size-“

Thinking this consolation might not be enough, he added, “It’s a bit tight for me.”

As he spoke, he half-jokingly removed the foam padding from the helmet.

Wei Zhi silently watched his series of survival-instinct-driven actions. Just as she was about to speak, there was another knock on the door from outside. It was her teammates saying they were ready to head to Genting Snow Park and asking if Wei Zhi would join them.

Wei Zhi turned to look at Shan Chong, who was holding her helmet in one hand. He leaned down slightly and kissed her cheek: “Go ahead.”

“What should I say if they ask about you?” Wei Zhi inquired. “That you went crazy, tried on my helmet in the room, got it stuck, and now you’re driving to the fire station to get it removed?”

“Tell them I’m taking a nap in bed and not to bother me with messages or calls.”

Listen to this foolproof preparation.

Who knows how long he had pondered this in the middle of the night.

Wei Zhi stood at the entrance putting on her shoes, not forgetting to look back at the man –

After putting on her shoes, she tapped the toes and winked at him: “Are you going to try the cork 2520 in the competition today?”

“If I could pull that off in competition, the sports bureau would put a knife to my throat and pull all sorts of strings to help me get FIS points. They’d even demand I come out of retirement for the Beijing Winter Olympics,” Shan Chong said nonchalantly. “So, no.”

“…”

She gazed at him expectantly, as if to say, if you’re not going to try it, what have we been working on all these days?

Shan Chong hesitated, “Unless the first two jumps are stable, then I might consider it for entertainment in the final jump.”

Skiing differs slightly from other sports –

Just because an athlete can perform a move in practice doesn’t mean they can execute it in competition.

This is why, in the current environment, almost every strong skiing nation has several individuals who can perform various cork flat spins of 2160 or even 2340 degrees in training. However, in competitions, the average rotation difficulty for medal-worthy performances is around 1980 degrees…

For more difficult moves like double cork or triple cork, the average rotation is even lower, around 1260 degrees.

Attempting a simple cork 2520 in competition is almost impossible. Moreover, after that accidental success, although Shan Chong managed to repeat it in subsequent attempts, the success rate wasn’t high…

The main issue was unfamiliarity with the move, making it difficult to grasp the timing and force required for the rotation.

Even if he completed the rotation, landing stably wasn’t guaranteed.

With so many variables, it wasn’t suitable for competition use.

Shan Chong, clear-headed, didn’t make empty promises about this. He sent his girlfriend off with a few words, promising to text her once he arrived at Genting Snow Park.

Only then did she leave, looking back repeatedly as she went.

They arrived at the neighboring Genting Snow Park around 10 AM. Just queuing to buy lift tickets for the mountain took a long time.

The senior disciples were thoughtful, sending the girls to sit aside while they stood in line. Wei Zhi, Hua Yan, and Yan Yan crouched at the KFC entrance eating ice cream.

“I asked Lao Yan to sign up and try,” Hua Yan said, slurping her ice cream and staring at the unprecedented bustle of people coming and going. “He refused.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of embarrassment,” Yan Yan didn’t spare him any face, her soft voice delivering the harshest words. “After all, he’s a freestyle skiing legend, VO Club’s star attraction. Falling short in an amateur park competition… how would that affect his future teaching prospects? The club’s management might hang themselves at his doorstep.”

“Is that so? I don’t think Lao Yan cares about that,” Hua Yan said. “Since being dumped, how long has it been since he took on new students? Lately, he only reluctantly moves when his old disciples seek him out for lessons.”

Yan Yan: “He’s completely lost it. This morning he even called himself a stray dog. I think it’s worth screenshotting and showing to Nan Feng.”

Wei Zhi: “I did screenshot it.”

Yan Yan: “What did he say?”

Wei Zhi: “‘Without rummaging through a few garbage bins, you don’t realize how good the peak tasted in the ceramic dog bowl before.'”

Yan Yan: “Oh wow.”

Hua Yan: “Hehe, he deserves it.”

“Speaking of which, I heard Lao Yan has been improving quickly on the big jumps lately. Maybe being in a relationship did affect his edge control speed,” Wei Zhi took a bite of ice cream. “Seems like he can do a double cork 540 on the big jump now, and even a flat spin 1260 for regular freestyle…”

She thought for a moment, licking the sweet ice cream from her lips, “That level should be enough for an amateur competition, right?”

“Who knows what the situation will be today?” Hua Yan waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s hope it’s not too embarrassing. If we got up this early just to watch a bunch of people do wobbly fs cork 360s or 540s they can barely land, I’ll lose my temper.”

She was complaining about how cold the weather was today.

Meanwhile, Bei Ci and the others returned with tickets. Today, none of them wore ski suits. Bei Ci was in all-black sweats, his build slightly bulkier than Shan Chong’s, like a moving, skinny bear.

Behind him was Lao Yan, wearing a white hoodie and deep purple sweatpants, with a baseball cap pulled low over his face, revealing only his rather handsome jawline. His thin lips were pressed together, silently deterring who knows how many young women from trying to strike up a conversation…

The two men stood before the girls.

Yan Yan picked up a paper bag beside her and handed it to Bei Ci.

He opened it and looked inside, finding two egg tarts: “I don’t like sweets. This kind of girly snack is more Master’s thing—”

Before he could finish, the bag was snatched back. Yan Yan rolled her eyes: “I’d rather feed it to a dog than give it to you.”

Then she shoved the paper bag into Lao Yan’s arms.

As he stood there bewildered, Hua Yan and Wei Zhi nearly died laughing.

The group walked out of the equipment hall together, waiting in line for the cable car.

Around them were other skiers, carrying boards and wearing ski suits. Their lightly dressed group stood out conspicuously. Normal people might have taken them for sightseers, but even with masks on, some recognized Bei Ci and Lao Yan! People greeted them continuously along the way…

The two men behaved differently than when they were with Shan Chong or close friends. Out here, they exuded a strong aura of expertise. They didn’t joke around; when people greeted them, they’d barely lift an eyelid, lazily waving a hand—

Everyone else seemed accustomed to this behavior.

Throughout the journey, Wei Zhi noticed that Yan Yan and Hua Yan were also quite popular. Yan Yan was also very skilled at freestyle, and from their conversation, Wei Zhi learned that she and Lao Yan were actually from the same club—the one Yan Yan had mentioned earlier.

In fact, on the slopes, Wei Zhi was already considered quite good.

But standing among these people, she felt a bit outclassed.

“Have I stumbled into some kind of domestic snowboarding top team?” she asked.

“You’ve slept with the top team’s leader, and you’re still being humble with us?” Once on the cable car, Bei Ci seemed to have found his voice again, speaking with a somewhat dismissive tone. “Look at your starstruck, inexperienced expression. I don’t understand how you and Brother Chong interact behind closed doors. Do you burn incense and bow three times to him every night before bed?”

Wei Zhi straightened her leg to kick him.

Hua Yan looked disgusted: “You and Lao Yan are perfect for staying single forever.”

Bei Ci: “Yan Yan and I have an agreement. If we’re both unmarried at thirty, we’ll shack up. I’ll learn freestyle for her, and she’ll do park for me.”

Yan Yan, expressionless: “Never said that. Get lost.”

Bei Ci turned to Hua Yan: “Would you do park for me?”

Hua Yan: “I’m better at it than you are.”

Bei Ci: “I meant the halfpipe.”

Hua Yan: “Oh, get lost.”

After being told to get lost twice, Bei Ci finally turned to Wei Zhi: “Mrs. Homebody, while you’re blindly worshipping every snow circle creature, have you ever thought about how your fans just on that pink app outnumber all of ours combined? And I’m not even counting Weibo—”

This time Wei Zhi didn’t use her foot, nor did she tell him to get lost. She just stood up and reached out to cover his mouth.

Once they reached the mountain and entered the park, the competition was about to begin.

Some of Shan Chong’s disciples had arrived earlier and secured seats for them in the stands—third row from the front, best view, directly facing the Big Air competition area. The height was perfect; any higher and they couldn’t see the landing, any lower and they couldn’t see the takeoff.

After settling in, Wei Zhi began looking around curiously. She watched the jump area for a while, where some riders had already arrived. She took out her phone and saw several unread messages from the familiar Crayon Shin-chan in a swimsuit avatar.

They read:

I’m here.

Where are you?

I’m going to warm up.

The last one was a picture.

It was a view from the jump’s starting point, looking towards them. From the distance, they could barely make out their blurry figures in the stands.

Wei Zhi’s lips curved into a smile, and she sent him an encouraging sticker.

After a while, he replied with two characters:

[Chong: Dominate.]

Such confidence.

Usually, Shan Chong was a man of few words and low profile. Bei Ci, when drunk and bold, dared to tease him as the snow circle’s biggest show-off, silently cultivating a “low-key, modest” image…

Indeed, Shan Chong rarely spoke like this. Except for his disciples (and possibly Dai Duo), he usually wouldn’t actively comment on others’ skills or moves. He’d just look once, his expression unchanging.

However, at this moment, even through the screen, Wei Zhi could feel his restless excitement.

Even if he was in disguise, participating in a small amateur competition, standing on the starting platform with competitors was probably a long-lost experience for him.

In life, nothing is more precious than a “reunion after a long separation”…

This applies to both people and things.

After some pre-race sponsor introductions, the usual host’s speech, and judge introductions, the competition quickly began.

The riders performed in the order determined by drawing lots. The first few riders were average. One did an FS cork 1080, whom Wei Zhi didn’t recognize, but she heard Bei Ci and the others mention his name when he appeared.

She didn’t catch the full name, but apparently, they knew him.

As this person came down from the jump, his takeoff wasn’t very high. After watching Shan Chong jump these past few days, she had gained some insight. It was clear he was still afraid before getting on the platform, rolling his edges a few extra times, failing to gain enough speed—

In the sky, he had already fallen considerably after two flips. By the time he completed the third rotation, he was almost completely on the ground. He wobbled a bit but managed not to fall.

Standing in the stands, they could see that this person seemed quite pleased with himself. After stabilizing, he slid forward, even applauding himself a few times and waving towards the stands.

Bei Ci and the others gave scattered applause. Hua Yan mumbled to Lao Yan, “We should have made you come. You could have at least placed and gotten some sponsorship.”

Lao Yan remained silent.

A few foreign riders followed. From this distance, their faces weren’t clear, but their builds and hair colors were not Chinese. They performed slightly better—

The highest level among them executed a switch bs 1440 triple cork mute grab, a switch backside entry with off-axis rotation. That guy’s final trick was very impressive. As he landed, there was considerable cheering from the sidelines…

Bei Ci craned his neck to look, then commented after a while that this person must have had professional training. If he were a bit younger, he’d likely be a professional rider, the kind who could compete for medals in competitions.

This foreigner received the highest score so far. On a 100-point scale, across six judges, he scored 82.3.

Wei Zhi glanced at the scoring board, already feeling restless. She stomped her feet, stood up walked around a bit, then leaned out to check the current ranking…

She was like an ant on a hot pan.

There were 46 participants in total, with Shan Chong set to go ninth.

When he appeared, he remained low-key. He didn’t even use his new Burton Custom board, instead somehow procuring an old Custom X model. Standing there, he looked unremarkable, not drawing much attention.

The screen displayed his information, with the character “Mountain Wood” in large text, making Wei Zhi reflexively cover her face. Peeking through her fingers at the man standing on the platform, she let out a short, stifled groan of embarrassment from her throat…

“Who’s this guy?”

“Never heard of him.”

“He’s got a Custom X, and his outfit looks pretty stylish.”

“Might be a Burton rider—”

“Come on, how many people does Burton sponsor in our country? The only one I know of is lying in his apartment right now… Hey, what’s he doing?”

Leaning on the railing of the stands, Wei Zhi slowly shifted her gaze from the man in bib pants not far away, and said, “…Sleeping.”

Bei Ci sighed.

As he sighed, the man who should have been sleeping in his apartment placed one hand on the starting gate, bending down to strap on his board—

The starting gate was about a hundred meters away from their stands. Wei Zhi leaned on the railing, watching the man from afar as he finished strapping in and stood up. As he adjusted his goggles with his hand, he seemed to turn his head and glance towards the stands.

Wei Zhi couldn’t help but wave at him.

Behind her, Bei Ci muttered, “Why are you waving at him like some fan?”

Wei Zhi, still hanging onto the railing, turned back to glare at him. Faced with her fierce glare, Bei Ci felt a bit intimidated. He paused, then put his hands on his hips: “I’m going to tell Brother Chong on you!”

As the two were engaged in their staring contest, Lao Yan lowered his baseball cap and quietly reminded them, “He’s starting, you know. Are you going to watch the competition or not?”

On the starting platform behind them, the man had indeed begun his run.

He was intimately familiar with every aspect of Genting Snow Park’s jump—every blade of grass, the length of the starting track, exactly where to release the board for each trick. Wei Zhi noticed he released later than usual, taking off from the jump at a lower speed—

Her heart leaped into her throat.

She watched as the man in simple black and white attire, riding his snowboard, soared into the air as lightly as a falling leaf. He bent his body, reaching to grab the edge of his board.

Off-axis rotation.

He completed five clean, effortless rotations, still maintaining considerable height. Then, the foot strapped to the binding made a noticeable kicking motion in mid-air, and the hand that had been holding the board edge moved away—

Raising his arm, his front hand grabbed the back edge of the board, pulling it to show the base.

Backside triple cork 1800 melon grab.

As he landed, the entire venue fell silent.

The only sound was the solid “thud” of his snowboard hitting the landing area. He bent his knees slightly, rode a few meters on his front edge, unhurriedly straightened up, and came to a stable stop.

When he stopped, the stands were still quiet.

It wasn’t until he bent down to unstrap his board and lifted it from the ground that the stands erupted—

“Holy shit! What was that?! A monster! Ah?! Did you see how effortlessly he did that 1800?! And he even had time to add a melon grab at the end!!!”

Bei Ci’s voice, shocked enough to swallow a tiger, rang out clearly amidst the thunderous applause—

“Who is this guy?! Who is he?!!! If the national team doesn’t recruit him, I’m writing a complaint letter. I won’t watch the Beijing Winter Olympics without him!!!!!!”

Related Chapters

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

Latest Chapter

Recent Comments