A brief hug was rejected, and the conversation in the car was minimal. “Urumqi is really cold.”
“Yes.”
“Has it been snowing these past few days?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for picking me up at the airport in the middle of the night. It’s almost 1:30 now, and we’ll probably reach the hotel by 3.”
“If you were kidnapped, the last call record would be with me. The police would find me, and society would condemn me.”
“…”
That was the entirety of their conversation.
If this were a Korean drama, the director might have already marked it as the final episode out of sheer frustration.
Perhaps the cold air had fully activated the husky within the southern girl, or maybe she had slept enough on the plane and was now as excited as a goose. Despite the failed attempt at initiating a conversation, Wei Zhi didn’t feel discouraged. She sat restlessly in the passenger seat, as if her seat had suddenly grown spikes or a cactus. She fidgeted, her fingers tapping on the seatbelt.
When her body wasn’t moving, her eyes were.
Sometimes she looked at Shan Chong with affection, other times she switched to starry-eyed admiration at the snowy scenery outside. Her blinking was faster than usual, creating an atmosphere that made the driver press the gas pedal a bit harder than usual—
Shan Chong endured her antics all the way.
From the airport to the hotel near the ski resort, it normally took two hours. With slippery roads due to the snow, one had to drive carefully and slowly…
He managed it in an hour and a half.
Upon reaching the hotel, Shan Chong got out of the car, walked to the trunk to get her luggage, and as soon as he opened it, the restless girl popped her head out like a sprouting radish, her bright eyes staring at him—
He was startled.
His hand shook, almost throwing the suitcase at her face. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he placed the suitcase firmly on the ground. “What do you want to say?”
The girl had half her face hidden behind a scarf she had just put on before getting out of the car. Only her red nose and a pair of round eyes, like summer grapes, were visible. She blinked. “Do classes start tomorrow? I think I can learn to change blades!”
Shan Chong carried her suitcase up the hotel steps and helped her check in at the front desk.
While the hotel staff processed the check-in, he slowly answered the question she had asked ten minutes ago. “I have other classes tomorrow.”
“…”
This was something Wei Zhi hadn’t expected.
But it wasn’t surprising either.
It was like straight men discovering that fairies also need to use the bathroom—logical, but slightly beyond their psychological tolerance. Her previously jubilant mood dampened a bit. She looked at Shan Chong without speaking.
Shan Chong: “?”
Shan Chong: “…”
Her gaze wasn’t accusatory—she didn’t have the courage or intention—but he still sensed a hint of resentment in her dark eyes—
It was like walking down the street and suddenly stepping on a stray cat’s paw, making it jump up in pain.
The cat would sit there, looking at you in bewilderment.
Even if you went to court, you couldn’t be blamed for it.
But.
In that moment, you still felt like apologizing to the cat.
“You suddenly showed up without telling me your schedule,” Shan Chong explained calmly. “I had already scheduled other classes. Isn’t that normal?”
At this point, the hotel staff handed Wei Zhi her room key with a smile.
Wei Zhi, carrying her laptop in one hand and pushing her suitcase with the other, walked towards the elevator. “Since we’re on the topic, why don’t you ask why I suddenly showed up?”
“Not curious,” the man following her said, pausing before adding, “You look so happy, like you’ve done something great. There’s nothing to ask.”
“What do you mean?”
“As long as you didn’t kill someone and come to Xinjiang to ski and escape the country.”
“…Your standards are pretty low.”
“…”
“If that were the case, would you report me to the police?”
She asked casually, not expecting the righteous man to answer firmly, “Yes.”
“…”
Given that her conversation partner was not good at chatting and had a tendency to be harsh, Wei Zhi decided to switch to a safer topic. “So, do you have classes every day here?”
“Pretty much.”
“From the time the ski resort opens until it closes?”
“Not exactly.”
At this point, the elevator arrived with a “ding,” and the doors opened to a quiet hallway.
Wei Zhi pulled her suitcase, noticing out of the corner of her eye that as she slowly pulled her suitcase out, a hand casually held the elevator door open, preventing it from closing.
She looked back, smiled sweetly at the man behind her, and continued down the hallway, checking the room number on her key card.
Shan Chong followed her patiently.
“So, you still have time to squeeze me into your schedule?” The girl dragging her suitcase suddenly turned back to look at him. “It’s not that I want to cling to you. I just don’t know how to change blades yet. Once I learn, I can ski on my own.”
“…”
The last time I let you ski on your own, you ended up in a wheelchair, remember?
Ski on your own?
Ski my ass.
Shan Chong remained silent, indicating his refusal to answer the question.
Seeing him go mute again, Wei Zhi pouted and started thinking that it didn’t matter if her master was busy tomorrow. She could take her time to familiarize herself with the surroundings and rent a good snowboard from a nearby shop.
On the way to the airport, she had checked some guides and learned that many skiers who were good but too lazy to carry their boards around the country would rent snowboards from shops near the ski resort. These boards, though more expensive than those provided by the resort, were better in terms of brand and maintenance.
So Wei Zhi decided to rent a board.
And see what else she could do.
The room wasn’t far, just around the corner from the elevator. She swiped her card to open the door and pushed her suitcase inside.
Once everything was settled, she turned around to see the man who had picked her up still standing outside. Her eyes lit up, and she leaned against the door. “Thank you for tonight. How about I treat you all to dinner tomorrow?”
“There are many people.”
“I can afford it!”
Shan Chong ignored her, pointing upstairs. “We all live upstairs. If you need anything, just message one of us on WeChat… preferably Bei Ci, he’s the most free.”
Wei Zhi played with the door handle, wanting to retort, “What could I possibly need?” but instead, she obediently said, “Oh,” and then asked, “What if I want to ski tomorrow?”
“Play around in the magic carpet area.”
“I want to see the legendary Aiwen Avenue.”
“Aiwen is on the mountain. If the weather is bad, the gondola won’t run,” Shan Chong leaned against the wall. “Only the simple open-air chairlifts will be available.”
Wei Zhi looked at him with a “then what” expression.
“The ski resort requires that you must wear a board on one foot to use those chairlifts,” he said lazily. “Can you get on and off the chairlift with one foot?”
Oh, no.
She couldn’t even ski properly with both feet, let alone one.
With a series of cold water splashes, she felt a bit dejected. She fiddled with the innocent door handle, thinking that tomorrow she might as well rent a board, have a meal, and then stay in her room to work on updates…
Hmph.
Who doesn’t have something important to do?
She didn’t argue with him anymore, withdrew her hand from the door handle, and sincerely wished him goodnight before closing the hotel room door to wash up and sleep.
It was already close to 3 AM.
…
Wei Zhi was seriously washing her face at the sink.
The door to her room was knocked on again.
With her face covered in fragrant cleansing foam, she stood up in confusion, looked towards the bathroom door, paused, and then asked, “Who is it?” amidst the patient knocking.
“It’s me.”
The familiar male voice, without any inflection, belonged to the man who had left without looking back. For some reason, he had returned.
Wei Zhi hurriedly washed off the foam, wiped her face haphazardly, and rushed to open the door. Her hair was a mess, and she looked disheveled as she peeked through the door—
Before she could ask why he had come back, a takeout bag appeared in front of her.
She sniffed, and the perfect blend of cumin, chili powder, and authentic grassland lamb fat hit her nose. Wei Zhi’s stomach growled as she blinked.
“Hua Hua said you probably didn’t eat well on the plane, so she packed the leftover meat from dinner and had it reheated for you.”
The white plastic bag swayed.
“Do you want some lamb?”
Before she could answer, the man hesitated for three seconds and added, “It’s clean. There were many dishes tonight, and that plate of meat was barely touched.”
Wei Zhi took the plastic bag without hesitation and cheerfully said, “Thank you,” as the perfect response.
She opened the still-steaming bag, and the aroma almost made her faint with hunger…
Xinjiang was indeed beautiful, with its mountains, rivers, and especially its lamb. In the southern city, there were many barbecue restaurants, but few could make lamb so delicious that it could awaken the hunger in one’s stomach—
Even reheated, the lamb was fragrant, not too gamey, with the cumin and chili powder adding a delightful aroma.
She sniffed the food in the bag, smiling as she looked up, ready to bow in gratitude. At that moment, several green objects flew towards her. Instinctively, she opened her arms and clumsily caught them—
One of them hit her face and bounced off.
She was bewildered, not even caring about the pain. Looking down, she saw a fluffy, soft green turtle staring at her with its beady eyes.
Wei Zhi: “?”
Wei Zhi: “…”
She skillfully grabbed the turtle by its tail, flipped it over, and felt around in the dark. Sure enough, she found the patch on its bottom and was stunned—
Wei Zhi: “…You brought the little turtle too?!”
Her voice was so excited it changed pitch.
It was the middle of the night, so she didn’t dare shout. She covered her mouth, her face filled with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, like Bambi finally finding its mother.
Outside the door, the man remained expressionless and cool, letting out a single “Hmm” from his nose.
Inside, the girl held the food and the turtle, and even though the man was as silent as a mute, she was moved to tears. “I want to hug you right now. Do you have any objections?”
“My objection is, calm down, step back, and don’t touch me.”
The man said expressionlessly, “Good night.”
Then he really turned and left.
Wei Zhi, holding the patched green turtle, watched him leave with tears of gratitude in her eyes.
After seeing Shan Chong off, Wei Zhi happily ate a meat-filled midnight snack, then took a bath, did her skincare routine, brushed her teeth, and climbed into bed.
She pulled up the covers, and the room fell silent, save for her breathing. Outside, the wind blew, causing the snow to tap lightly against the window…
Everything seemed so peaceful.
It was hard to imagine that just seven or eight hours ago, she had been at odds with the world.
She took out her phone to let her worried friends know she was safe, deciding not to contact her parents to avoid a scolding.
She took a photo of the little turtle, then casually snapped a picture of the moonlit, snow-covered windowsill, tagged it with Xinjiang, and posted it on her social media with the caption:
“Little turtle is still here, so good :)”
In the dead of night, she thought everyone except Jiang Nanfeng and the younger ones would be asleep. To her surprise, the first like came from her mom.
[You must be crazy.]
Her mom had stayed up just to scold her, but still followed social etiquette by liking the post first. Mrs. Yang was truly something else.
Wei Zhi clicked her tongue, tossed her phone aside, and turned over to sleep.
…
The next morning, Wei Zhi woke up around 8 AM. She yawned, threw on a sweatshirt, and went downstairs for the hotel’s free breakfast, where she ran into Shan Chong and his group—
The whole group, everyone was there.
Hua Yan, Yan Yan, Shan Chong, Bei Ci, and a few others Wei Zhi hadn’t met but had seen in previous videos… A large group, at least ten people.
Each one looked like a big shot.
The lively group seemed to have taken over the restaurant. Wei Zhi paused at the door, feeling a bit socially anxious as she debated whether to greet them or grab some food and quickly retreat to her room. Hua Yan called out to her.
“Come sit.”
The pretty lady naturally moved her plate and made space between herself and Bei Ci, waving at Wei Zhi like she was calling a fluffy pet…
Remembering Hua Yan’s kindness from the previous night, Wei Zhi grinned and grabbed some food before nervously sitting down.
She greeted everyone before sitting, and though they all looked half-asleep, they managed to muster some energy to chat with her, mostly about how reckless it was for a girl to arrive so late—
Among them, Bei Ci, who was familiar with Wei Zhi, tilted his head and asked with a sweet smile, “Where’s our Nanfeng sister? I heard from Chong that she’s coming in a few days. I miss her!”
Wei Zhi’s peace-loving smile almost faltered, thinking that Nanfeng had already deleted him—
But then she realized that this kid hadn’t even noticed he was deleted…
What did that mean?
It meant he hadn’t contacted Jiang Nanfeng or checked her profile or posts in days.
Even after hearing from Shan Chong that Jiang Nanfeng was coming…
He hadn’t done any of that.
…And now he was telling her he missed Nanfeng.
Wow, was this the social (nonsense) of adults (jerks)?
Impressive.
Wei Zhi’s mind was blown, and she looked at Bei Ci with newfound respect.
Amidst the chaos, she had to deal with other friendly greetings…
The only one who remained silent was the man in the black sweater sitting across from her, propping his head up and looking away.
“Hey, Chong, wake up!” Bei Ci shook him. “Your little apprentice is here!”
The man, almost knocking over his milk, slowly sat up, his dark eyes still sleepy and unfocused.
He had fallen asleep at the table.
Yawning, Shan Chong was urged by Bei Ci, “Say hello! Be polite!”
“I didn’t sleep last night, drove two hours in the snow to the airport, then drove another hour back, ran up and down, delivered food and a turtle cushion, and didn’t sleep until almost 4 AM.” Shan Chong’s face was expressionless, but he was unusually talkative. “Did you show up for even a second during all that?”
Bei Ci: “…”
“At least Hua Yan was mentioned in the conversation… Oh, you were too. I told her to call someone if she needed help, preferably you because you’re free.”
Bei Ci: “…”
“Now, who was impolite?”
Bei Ci: “You.”
Shan Chong sneered, picked up his milk, took a sip, frowned, and then grabbed three packets of sugar from Yan Yan’s coffee, tearing them open and pouring them into his milk.
Everyone except Wei Zhi seemed used to this. Yan Yan, the short-haired girl, didn’t even look up, casually asking, “You brought that turtle cushion too?”
Shan Chong’s eyelashes fluttered. “Yes.”
“Oh wow!” Yan Yan looked at Wei Zhi with a sigh. “You must be really loved. Unlike us, who sometimes fear our dads will wake up one day and ask, ‘Who are you and why are you here?'”
No one disagreed, except Bei Ci, who felt a bit indignant.
He might not have a place to stay, but he had a village—
Back when Shan Chong was a giant in action but a mute in teaching, Bei Ci had trained with him in the park…
Shan Chong didn’t know how to break down moves back then. He’d just say, “Watch me,” and repeat the move until Bei Ci got it, often to the point of PTSD.
By the end, Shan Chong himself would almost forget how to do the move…
Even so, Bei Ci never felt a day of his master’s love.
So now, feeling a bit resentful, he decided to stir the pot—
Not by throwing a fit, but by being a bit mischievous.
He nudged the girl next to him, who was struggling with scrambled eggs. When she looked up in confusion, he used a “just a friendly reminder” tone. “Why would Chong bring the turtle cushion if he wasn’t sure you’d come? Was it really for you? Or someone else?”
Wei Zhi: “Huh?”
Bei Ci: “Have you considered that in this uncertain situation, he might have brought the turtle for someone else?”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Bei Ci: “There are other beginners here, you know.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Across the table, Shan Chong stared at Bei Ci expressionlessly.
Watching him stir up trouble.
The rest of the group laughed, Hua Yan throwing an eggshell at him. “Good thing you’re not a girl, or you’d have been scratched up by now!”
“Hey,” Bei Ci brushed off the eggshell, “I’m just asking a reasonable question, not trying to cause trouble. Chong, you won’t be mad, right? I’m just worried about a misunderstanding. Chong, you won’t be mad, right? I care about our little apprentice—”
Amidst the chaos, Wei Zhi put down her utensils and suddenly said, “Have you heard the story of Garfield?”
Bei Ci: “Huh?” Everyone looked over curiously.
The girl at the table, half her face bathed in sunlight, smiled. Her thick, dark brown eyelashes trembled lightly in the light, her voice soft and endearing, with a hint of melancholy.
It was—
Bright and melancholic.
“I once read a story online. After Garfield went missing for a long time, everyone gave up hope of finding him. One day, his owner Jon found him in a pet store. They reunited, and it was a happy ending—”
Wei Zhi paused, then continued softly, “After that, Garfield returned home and lived happily ever after… and he never asked Jon why he went into a pet store that day.”
Everyone was stunned.
The table fell into a deathly silence.
Bei Ci’s cheerful expression faded, worried he had said something he shouldn’t have—
Shan Chong downed his milk in one gulp, slammed the cup down, startling everyone.
“Because he had a dog named Odie at home that needed dog food, which is sold at pet stores…” The man’s voice was emotionless, cold and unfeeling. “What’s wrong with you? Who else but you would need that green turtle cushion?”
The bright and melancholic moment shattered.
Even the Xinjiang sunshine seemed less bright because of his harshness.
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi: “Sorry.”
Wei Zhi: “I just thought the mood was right and went with it—”
Shan Chong: “Went with it, my ass.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi: “Okay, I’ll stop. Since the New Year is coming, how about I bow to you in advance as a New Year’s greeting?”