Inside the hospital, the night was eerily silent, and every sound seemed to be amplified infinitely. Although the spraying water had been turned off, the puddles on the floor remained uncleaned. They flowed quietly, following the grout lines and patterns on the tiles, eventually trickling into the drain. A droplet of water clinging to the showerhead fell with a faint “plop.”
“If you’re going to leave, then do it decisively. Don’t look back.”
His lips brushed against her carotid artery as he spoke, his tone low and trembling. His hands pressed against her back, not only shielding her from the cold wall but also trapping her in his embrace.
“Jiang Nanfeng, I said before, if you didn’t return by the end of this snow season, I would move on,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Why did you come back?”
He asked, “Do you think it’s fun to treat me like a dog on a leash?”
Jiang Nanfeng responded only with silence. Her gaze calmly settled on the strings of his hoodie, her expression devoid of emotion. After a long pause, she lifted her long, slender eyelashes and looked at him with those clear, black-and-white eyes.
During their brief kiss earlier, his nose had brushed against the droplets of water on her cheek. Now, his face was wet, making him appear both endearing and pitiful. As the young man stared at her in a daze, she reached out, gently scraping the water off his nose with her knuckle. “It’s quite interesting,” she remarked.
Before he could react, she pushed him away. “Kid, you don’t even like me that much. You’re just upset because you got dumped.”
Lao Yan watched as she turned away, leaning forward to check her reflection in the mirror. She calmly wiped away the smudged lipstick left by his kiss. The mirror reflected her cold, delicate face. Despite the chilly weather, she was still wearing a dress. She had probably left after he had fallen asleep, changing out of the snow gear she had been bundled in and into this outfit. He had to admit, she looked good in anything.
Earlier today, his eyes must have been blind, or his mind elsewhere, because he hadn’t recognized her on the slopes at first. But even with just a fleeting glance, he had thought this girl had style.
How ridiculous.
The former playboy now seemed on the verge of developing PTSD from female snowboarders. As she bent over slightly, leaning against the sink, the hem of her dress barely covered her long, pale legs. Lao Yan leaned against the door, unmoving. His heavy eyes were fixed on the woman’s back and her beautiful face in the mirror. He felt as if he were losing his mind, seriously contemplating the meaning of her words.
What did she mean by “didn’t like much”?
What exactly is liking, then?
At first sight, he thought she was beautiful. In the next second, he found her voice gentle. When he taught her, she learned everything effortlessly. He taught her to do a Nollie 180, and on her first run down the mountain, she pulled off a Nollie 360 at the entrance to the ski lodge. He had never had such a smart student, and it gave him a sense of accomplishment. After class, he would start conversations about the day’s lessons, checking his phone for her messages with an unprecedented frequency.
Gradually, it turned into “I have a student tomorrow, so I’ll skip the drinking party tonight,” and “There’s a girl here, she came up from the snowfield at the foot of the mountain.” “Still not going.”
He was drawn to her. After drinking, when his blurry eyes opened, all he saw was her. When he was drunk, retching over the toilet, she was there to hold his hand. When he woke up after washing up, she was there with soup. He learned to seriously edit teaching videos just for her to watch. To always be the one who could teach her new tricks, he practiced diligently every day, never skipping a beat, and his progress was rapid. He wanted to hear her voice, kiss her lips, make videos, eat, and sleep with her.
What’s wrong with that? Is that kind of affection shallow?
But that’s his entire life. This is what liking looks like to him—is it wrong? Is it not enough? Then someone, please kindly tell him what real, abundant affection is supposed to be.
Jiang Nanfeng straightened up and turned to look at the young man staring at her. She smiled at him. “Get some rest,” she said. “There’s a lot to do tomorrow.”
His gaze remained fixed on her smiling lips, his throat tight as he numbly watched her brush past him. She dried her face with a towel as she walked back to the hospital room. A cold wind howled outside, like a ghostly wail sweeping through the quiet alleys of the hospital at night. Shadows of the trees swayed outside the window.
Jiang Nanfeng put down the towel, reaching into her bag to find some powder to touch up her face. But before she could grab it, someone seized her wrist from behind. Long, strong fingers clutched her wrist tightly. She looked at the force behind it and saw the veins bulging on his hand, the knuckles prominent from his grip. In the next moment, with a forceful yank, she was thrown onto the bed he had just risen from, still warm from his body heat.
He loomed over her, supporting himself with one hand on the mattress, his fingers tangled in a strand of her hair. He gazed down at her, expressionless.
“You can kick me off now if you want,” he said. “I’ll give you three seconds. Three… two… one.”
The boy who seemed so high and mighty looked down at her, but in reality, his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would explode, as if his internal organs were being ripped apart. The three seconds he counted down felt like a death sentence, and when he finished, his mind went blank, unable to think.
He let go of her hair, his fingers resting near her head as he leaned down. His dry lips brushed against the area below her ear. “Time’s up.”
…
Outside the hospital, at the mountaintop ski resort restaurant.
“Jiang Chao, you’re just going to leave Jiang Nanfeng at the hospital?” Wei Zhi scooped up a small bowl of crispy rice from the bottom of her stone pot, pushing the fresh, moist rice toward the man next to her.
He looked at her for a few seconds, then sighed and pulled the black stone pot in front of him, grabbing the utensils and starting to eat.
Wei Zhi continued, “Do you even know how messy things got between her and Lao Yan when they broke up?”
“I know,” Jiang Chao replied absentmindedly.
At the moment, he was propping his chin up with one hand, finding their interaction rather amusing. He thought to himself, if it were Han Yiming, he probably wouldn’t eat her leftover food. He’d take it but then set it aside without touching it.
“It wasn’t my idea to leave her behind,” Jiang Chao said lazily. “She wanted to stay, said she had something to return to that kid.”
…
Back inside the hospital, the room was dim. Even the harsh white fluorescent light from the corridor that seeped in through the small window on the door felt atmospheric. Everything seemed to happen naturally.
When she reached out to pull his neck down toward her; when her fingers slid through the hair at the back of his head, gently gripping his hair, strands entwined between her fingers; when she tilted her head up and bit his lip—
She laughed and asked him if he was an adult and if he had his ID to prove it. Then her fingers slid down to his waistband, giving it a little tug.
Lao Yan was still wearing sweatpants with a quick-dry shirt underneath. He was just glad he hadn’t worn his protective gear today. People like them only put that stuff on when they knew they were going to take a fall during practice.
After Jiang Nanfeng left, Lao Yan suddenly lost his sense of purpose. The ghost he had been chasing vanished, and he became indifferent as if all his energy had been drained in the first two months of the snow season.
Now, when someone at the club mastered a new trick, he wasn’t in a hurry. He could genuinely applaud and say congratulations.
Jiang Nanfeng had noticed this too.
“If you had worn your protective gear today, you wouldn’t have taken such a bad fall,” she said.
“I hurt my wrist,” Lao Yan replied. “But wearing armor? Who wears that for freestyle?”
The young man’s voice was defiant, refusing to cooperate.
“You’re proud of hurting your wrist?” She chuckled softly, and as she did, her breath brushed against his nose, making Lao Yan’s head spin.
He hated that he only had one hand available. Otherwise, he might have already wrapped her up and pulled her into his arms.
With her permission, his one free hand lifted the hem of her sweater, slipping underneath her shirt to touch her warm skin. He traced the line of her spine, moving down one vertebra at a time, reluctant to let go.
His hand slid around to the front, unbuttoning her collar. Lowering his head, he buried his face in the crook of her neck like a hungry, wild wolf, inhaling her scent as he kissed and nibbled.
His nose pressed against her heart, listening as her heartbeat sped up, feeling the warmth of her body rise. He felt a sense of peace he had never known
before, almost bringing him to tears. For a brief moment, he wondered if he was dreaming…
She had similar dreams before.
In her dreams, they were at a snowfield, in a small street-side restaurant, at a cozy little bar, or in a warm, crowded car.
She was in his arms.
Her chin rested on his shoulder as he lifted her skirt. With a swift motion, she found herself lying face down on the bed. For a brief moment, she paused as her face pressed into the pillow.
However, she didn’t remain frozen for long. One elbow propped against the pillow, she turned her head slightly, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes were tinged with a faint redness, slightly moist.
Her hair was still damp, not fully dried. Strands clung to her cheek.
It felt as if something ignited in an instant, exploding with her scent filling the air. It was torturous, yet somehow, he found himself willing to endure such exquisite agony.
…
On the snowy mountaintop.
After finishing their meal, they walked towards the hotel.
Wei Zhi clung to her boyfriend’s arm, watching Jiang Chao ahead of them. Hands in his pockets, a cigarette dangled lazily from his mouth, giving off an air of relaxed nonchalance. After a moment of thought, she asked, “Jiang Chao, I thought you came here to seek justice for Han Yiming.”
Hearing this, Jiang Chao bit down on the cigarette glanced at her but said nothing.
Some messy matters were hard to explain. If Wei Zhi had found herself with some random lowlife, then yes, he would have taken action—
After all, they had grown up together, their families knew each other well. They all dated and hung out separately, but still kept in touch through a small WeChat group for gatherings. That’s how life went on.
But now that they had all grown up and reached the age of marriage, it was only natural to start paying attention to the people around them…
Wei Zhi was charming, with a great personality, sweet and lovable. Unlike them, she wasn’t wild in school. Instead, she studied diligently like a little rabbit.
Back then, Jiang Chao had a few inappropriate thoughts. For example, his sister and Wei Zhi were best friends, and their families were close. He even considered getting his father to put in a good word for him at Wei’s house, thinking that might seal the deal.
But before he could make a move, the Han family returned.
Han Yiming was the oldest of their group, and they all respected him. No one dared to compete for his girl.
Even when someone else eventually stole her away, he was only mildly annoyed, while also finding it amusing. He wondered what kind of man had the nerve to steal Han’s girl. If it turned out to be some worthless guy, he planned to beat him up and see if he could take his place.
He had calculated this scenario thoroughly.
—Even though Wei Zhi didn’t hang out with them often, she was still considered one of their own. They might not be saints, but they certainly wouldn’t let an outsider bully her.
Jiang Chao had specifically chosen this snowfield in Chongli after watching videos of Shan Youmu’s performance because he was curious about Wei Zhi’s new boyfriend…
After seeing him in person, he was surprised. The guy was cool.
Though not as wealthy as them, he wasn’t some worthless “phoenix man” either. He came from an ordinary family, earned a decent income, worked hard, and lived a grounded life.
He was a man of few words. During the meal, he barely said more than five sentences, only glancing at Wei Zhi once when she offered him some of her leftover food—
Such social awkwardness…
In Chongli, mentioning “Shan Chong” was like invoking Buddha himself; it was prestigious.
This situation made them seem like completely rich playboys—having money but nothing else. In this harsh, snowy environment, they had no choice but to clumsily strap on snowboards and start learning from scratch, feeling like fools.
At this point, Jiang Chao even felt a bit inferior.
Just as Wei Zhi asked if he was there to seek justice, he was typing on WeChat, messaging a secret group chat with the other guys, excluding Han Yiming—
[Jiang Chao: Stop speculating, guys. The mission is canceled.]
The group erupted in disbelief, urging him to at least get a photo of Shan Chong.
“What justice am I supposed to deliver? And even if I wanted to, how would I do it?” Jiang Chao replied casually. “Invite you to watch him perform surgery? Show you how fast and precise he is with a scalpel?”
Surgery can’t be broadcast live.
Skiing competitions can be.
By comparison, Han Yiming was having a rough time. But what could he do? In the end, it was just that this guy’s trendy appeal was more attractive to young girls… But in a marriage market at a park, a surgeon would still be more popular than an athlete!
Fate was indeed fair.
As his thoughts wandered, Jiang Chao’s gaze shifted from Wei Zhi’s face to Shan Chong’s… Two men, under the moonlight, locked eyes. The latter remained expressionless while the former felt a chill down his spine, quickly looking away and typing in the group chat, telling the guys to shut up—
Sending a photo might give them insomnia tonight.
Jiang Chao asked Shan Chong, “You don’t teach beginners?”
Shan Chong replied, “I don’t.”
Jiang Chao clicked his tongue but didn’t dare to say, “I have money.” Realizing how great skiing was and how much it could boost one’s appeal, he casually said, “Well, once I master the basics, I’ll find you.”
“If you’re trying to impress girls, learning flat-ground tricks is more effective,” Shan Chong said. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the park, and you’ll see—out of ten people, there might be just one or two girls.”
He knew the scene well.
Wei Zhi turned her head to look at him, unable to blame her for her odd expression. They had known each other for so long, and she had rarely heard the words “little sister” come out of Shan Chong’s mouth so earnestly.
They had only shared one meal…
And they hardly spoke during it.
His quick transformation from innocent to mischievous was startling.
“Don’t you two hang out together,” Wei Zhi warned, “You’ll end up learning all his bad habits.”
Shan Chong chuckled softly, giving her a light, fleeting glance—
He must have done it on purpose.
That look—Wei Zhi had never seen it before—had a wicked edge that even Jiang Chao would’ve had to call him “brother.”
Though he was her boyfriend, Wei Zhi still found herself occasionally weak in the knees from his actions, a tingling sensation shooting up her spine. Instinctively, she asked, “What are you doing?” Then, realizing he was likely teasing her for treating him like some…
Blank slate.
Untouched cabbage.
Who did he think he was underestimating? Did he need to learn this?
Men, by nature, are all scoundrels.
So, she muttered, “If you dare to look at any other girls like that, I’ll dig your eyes out,” then lowered her head, staring at her toes…
She heard him chuckle softly in her ear.
The warmth of his large hand wrapping around hers made her tilt her head slightly. She heard him give a soft “Mm,” saying, “I won’t.”
Wei Zhi licked her lips, then after some thought, decided she might as well ask, “What is it that Jiang Nanfeng has to return to Lao Yan?”
As soon as she spoke, both men turned to look at her simultaneously.
Their gazes were intense, like wolves under the full moon in August.
Wei Zhi: “Huh?”
Wei Zhi: “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? Did Jiang Nanfeng borrow money from Lao Yan?”
Before she could finish her sentence, her boyfriend pulled her close, his large hand covering her mouth. Expressionless, he turned to Jiang Chao and nodded politely.
“Apologies.”
Jiang Chao chuckled and waved it off.
The highest level of taking care of your girlfriend is to treat her like your daughter—
Don’t let her ask questions she shouldn’t.
Don’t let her understand things she doesn’t need to.
What return?
Of course, it’s about returning to a complete relationship experience. Once the deed is done, maybe she won’t be as attached anymore.
Who knows?
…
As for this useless bit of knowledge, even Lao Yan didn’t understand it.
Lying in bed, one hand still bandaged and resting on the bed frame, he watched as Jiang Nanfeng leisurely sat up, got dressed, and opened the window to air out the room.
Then she slowly returned to the bedside.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” Jiang Nanfeng said, “My brother will come to keep an eye on you. Chong Ge and the others will probably visit too…”
“Where are you going?”
Watching her hair sway in front of him, Lao Yan reached out to touch it.
But she deftly dodged him, turning her head to look at him, and calmly said, “Going back to catch up on sleep.”
At this, Lao Yan still didn’t get it. It seemed all his years of playing the field had been in vain. The atmosphere in the room was tense… He propped himself up on one hand, the blanket slipping from his chest, giving him the air of a wronged, virtuous man.
“What do you mean? Are you saying this isn’t over between us?”
Lao Yan asked, his eyes full of intensity, a hard-to-describe light flickering in his dark pupils.
Jiang Nanfeng paused, offering him a silent smile without elaborating.
Lao Yan: “…”
He didn’t even want to ask her if she had any feelings.
He felt he should instead ask—
Lao Yan: “Jiang Nanfeng, do you have any decency?”