Whether it’s flatland tricks or park features, the first lesson for beginners is always balancing on the flat base of the snowboard, both at the nose and tail.
“Shift your center of gravity to your back foot, engage your core, press down, and sink into your hips. Do you know where your hips are? If you don’t, you’ll never understand skiing even after ten years… Then, keep pressing down. Don’t move your hip axis; keep it aligned with your snowboard. Don’t sway back and forth.”
Lao Yan stood on his snowboard, holding his hips. “See this? These are the hips! Keep your upper body straight. Your shoulders and body should maintain a straight line. Don’t lift your front leg while your back leg stays still, causing your upper body and shoulders to lean backward. If you do that, you’ll…”
Before he could finish, a student in front of him lost balance as their board slipped, falling sideways.
“Fall,” he calmly added the last two words.
The movement looked simple enough – just pulling the board to one side on flat ground. But when they tried it, they realized it wasn’t that easy. Watching Lao Yan pull his board, effortlessly lifting the nose—
While riding, one doesn’t notice, but when practicing these trick movements, the difference in board flexibility becomes apparent. Lao Yan usually used a flatland-specific board, which was soft and bent like paper under his feet.
Wei Zhi tried to pull up her board, only to find it as rigid as aircraft carrier alloy. After much effort, she barely lifted it two or three millimeters off the snow.
She was straining to pull when Lao Yan’s gaze swept over her. “Don’t lean your knees forward or inward. Wrong posture makes you look ugly when riding and will ruin your joints in the future.”
“My board is too stiff,” Wei Zhi said. Although her rainbow board was supposedly all-mountain, many people used it for park riding without issues. It had some stiffness to it.
Lao Yan pondered, considering his words, when the man crouching nearby said, “It’s not about the board; it’s about the person.”
Wei Zhi glared at him.
The man had removed his goggles, hanging them around his neck. His helmet was tossed aside, leaving only his face guard. Sensing the young girl’s unfriendly gaze, he stood up and walked in front of her.
“Your hips aren’t moving at all. How can you lift the board?”
He naturally placed his hand on her hip.
“This is your hip. Move it towards the tail of the board. Move it, come on! I’m holding you, what are you afraid of… Move your hip, not your butt.”
He looked down at her movements, silent for a moment before concluding—
“Lao Yan’s earlier comment about not knowing where the hips are was clearly about you.”
His words were serious, but his hand supporting her hip moved slightly upward, his fingertips briefly brushing against the soft flesh squeezed out by her side-bending.
…Hmm, it felt nice.
Wei Zhi frowned and swatted away the man’s large hand.
With a loud “smack,” everyone turned to look, just in time to see the man calmly rubbing his reddened hand. For a moment, everyone fell silent, unsure of what had happened.
Lao Yan, feeling at risk of being disliked by association, panicked and quickly clarified, “I didn’t say anything!”
Wei Zhi ignored them and used her hand to support her waist.
“Lower,” said the recently smacked man, standing nearby. “The area below your waist and above your buttocks is called the hips—yes, that’s it. Move it, press down.”
As soon as her hips moved, Wei Zhi’s snowboard easily lifted four or five centimeters.
The other students were also making progress. Lao Yan demonstrated the movement alongside them: “After lifting the nose, stabilize it. Gently lift your back leg, bending at the knee. Don’t jump forcefully; feel the rebound of the board as it deforms, and then—”
He made a noticeable rise, and as his back foot retracted, the pressure on the snow surface disappeared. The snowboard sprang up, and he bounced on the snow with the board.
This completed the tail balance.
The nose balance followed the same principle.
Wei Zhi bounced on the ground, becoming more proficient with each attempt. She could lift both the nose and tail. Shan Chong, standing nearby, said, “Try riding on your front edge while doing this movement.”
Wei Zhi tried and was surprised to find herself taking a step forward on the board. She stepped with her other foot and took another step forward—
“This is the penguin walk you were so eager to learn earlier,” the man said, watching her hop around like a little duck. “No need to thank me; this one’s free of charge.”
Wei Zhi looked up and wrinkled her nose at him. “Go away.”
She was quite adept at being ungrateful.
Shan Chong adjusted his face guard, still crouching nearby, and looked up at her expressionlessly.
With his snow gear on, he truly looked twice as imposing.
Wei Zhi’s courage vanished instantly. She shrank her neck and said in a meek voice, “Master, it’s Lao Yan’s show now. It’s impolite for you to keep interrupting.”
“Have you ever seen a teaching assistant not allowing a professor to interject?” Shan Chong said. “Or do you think I don’t know flatland tricks and have no right to speak?”
His voice was calm and even.
Of course, Shan Chong knew flatland tricks.
He didn’t do them often, but he had. He knew and excelled at everything he should know. Wei Zhi wasn’t blind; she had seen it firsthand… While he might not match Lao Yan, who specialized in flatland, he was certainly no worse than Dai Duo.
At this moment, she realized that if she dared to say yes, she’d probably cease to exist in the next second.
She closed her mouth and quickly waddled away on her penguin steps towards the crowd, as if a ghost were chasing her, swiftly moving out of the man’s arm’s reach.
By now, just five minutes into the lesson, everyone had learned nose and tail balances… Lao Yan had even taught them how to swing the board—taking the tail balance to the extreme, lifting the snowboard completely vertically so that the front hand could touch the nose of the board.
This move wasn’t particularly useful but looked great in photos.
The secret to doing it well and looking good was to swing your arms vigorously and not bend over to hook the snowboard, but rather let the board come to your hand…
Wei Zhi succeeded after two attempts.
Once again, with a loud “thud,” the nose of her board hit the ground heavily. She turned back with a face full of joy, about to show off to the man when she saw him still crouching where he had been. Their eyes met, and he hesitated before slowly pulling out his phone from his pocket.
He aimed it at her.
—Compared to Jiang Nanfeng, who could take ten photos and three videos in a day while skiing, Shan Chong, starting with the phrase “only photograph when you’re riding well, why photograph when you’re riding like crap,” saved a lot of trouble. Since knowing him, he had never voluntarily taken a photo or video of Wei Zhi…
Oh.
He had recorded.
When she couldn’t correct a certain movement, he would actively use his phone to record a video to show her how ugly her riding looked (.), and then she would frantically self-correct.
The only video of her that he had seriously uploaded to a short video platform was one she had taken herself.
Wei Zhi stood on her snowboard, somewhat incredulous at his initiative: “What are you doing?”
The man held his phone: “Not taking a picture? If not, I’ll put it away. My hands are cold.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Damn, this little princess.
“Take it! Take it! Take the picture!” she quickly said. “But what can you capture from that position? Who taught you that upward death angle? If you shoot like that, won’t I look like I’m only 1.3 meters tall?!”
The man lazily raised an eyebrow from behind his face guard, not moving at all, implying that she could take it or leave it, but he wasn’t going to move.
Wei Zhi looked back at her classmates. Everyone was busy practicing or taking photos of each other, completely unaware of what was happening there. Her attempt to seek help failed.
She held her breath, puffed her cheeks, and had no choice but to give in—
She swung her arms, used the momentum, stretched to pull the board, and grabbed the nose.
Accompanied by two “clicks” of the iPhone’s camera, as her snowboard hit the ground heavily, she caught a glimpse of the man slightly narrowing his eyes, leaning closer to his phone, examining what he had captured.
…It felt a bit embarrassing to have someone study her photos so intently.
Wei Zhi furtively glanced back at her classmates again, finding that still no one was paying attention to her. She decisively scooted towards the man, crouching shoulder to shoulder with him.
Shan Chong felt a sweet fragrance enter his nose as she approached. Her soft paw-like hand lightly touched his arm as she said quietly, “Let me see.”
The man tilted the phone screen to show her—
His angle had perfectly avoided the crowd behind, capturing the misty snow-capped mountains in the distance and a vast, open snow field…
The sky was very blue.
Sunlight formed a beam, shining down from behind.
In the lower right corner of the photo, the girl in snow gear became a not-so-clear silhouette. Her face wasn’t visible, but her body was naturally and beautifully stretched…
The snowboard beneath her feet was lifted high, and due to the angle, it appeared enlarged, with the rainbow base of the board stealing the spotlight.
The photo captured the moment she was in mid-air, her backhand lightly raised, her front hand gripping the nose of the board. In the sunlight, her long curly hair danced with her jumping motion, and the translucent hoodie vaguely revealed her body’s silhouette.
Snow dust swirled around the edges of the snowboard.
“…”
Poor Wei Zhi had never had such an excellent photo since she started snowboarding.
She let out an emotional “Ah,” covering her mouth and turning to look at Shan Chong with starry eyes.
Before she could organize her words of praise, the man had already mercilessly moved the phone away from her covetous gaze. His deep, magnetic voice drawled, “No need to kowtow in gratitude. It was just for you to take a look anyway.”
Wei Zhi: “?”
Shan Chong: “It’s time to teach you a lesson. There’s always a price to pay for being disrespectful to your master.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
As she was buffering, switching from praise mode to cursing rampage mode in a second, she watched helplessly as the man opened his phone’s gallery, found the photo he had just taken, and set it as his lockscreen wallpaper.
Then he exited, locked the screen, and lit it up to take a look.
The blue sky and white clouds perfectly framed the current time and date on the phone screen, while the little girl flailing to grab the nose of her board in the icy, snowy landscape occupied all the remaining space…
It fit just right.
He satisfactorily tucked the phone back into his jacket pocket.
The series of actions flowed like water.
Wei Zhi only managed to utter three monosyllabic sounds—
“Ah,” “You,” and “Eeh.”
By the time Lao Yan clapped his hands in the distance to announce the end of the flatland basics, telling everyone to take the magic carpet to the beginner slope to try incorporating tail balance while riding… Wei Zhi was silent as a mute. She stood up, removed her board, and followed the queue at the back of the line to get on the conveyor belt, head down.
Classmate A curiously leaned over: “Hey, why is your face so red?”
Wei Zhi gritted her teeth, let out an “Uh,” and unconsciously turned to look at the man standing not far behind her.
Feeling her burning gaze, the man chuckled deep in his throat and bent down to pick up his board, his movements lazy and natural, as if nothing had happened just now.
Only when Lao Yan urged them did he lift his foot and unhurriedly walk towards them.
…
They rode the beginner area three times in total. On the first run, they were told to ride at a speed they were comfortable with, practice tail balance, and do a few jumps while pulling the board.
On the second run, Shan Chong drew a line on the snow slope, then had them set off one by one, jumping when they reached the line. This was to start practicing the timing for jumping onto features.
The third run was for reinforcing practice.
After three runs, they took the chairlift to enter the park.
This was Wei Zhi’s first time properly entering the park with her board on (the previous time when she was tricked in by the Wantong Hall people didn’t count). Now, seeing boxes, rails, and barrels everywhere that she had watched Huayan and others play on before, she hadn’t felt anything special while watching. But now, thinking about having to jump onto them herself, it felt very different.
“Treat the starting point of the box as the line I drew earlier. This feature isn’t high; just ride onto it flat and come off flat. Riding straight across the box is called a 50-50, which is our first basic trick for today,” the man said as he demonstrated for everyone.
“Don’t wobble when getting on the feature. Keep your gaze on the direction you’re riding. Don’t look down. Keep your board flat; don’t try to engage the edges on the feature.”
He stepped onto his snowboard and effortlessly rode onto the feature. The metal edge of the board made a crisp, pleasant collision sound with the metal box. The yellow Burton Custom passed straight through to the end of the feature, then he slightly pulled up the nose, did a tail balance, and steadily jumped off.
Of course, he could do many fancy tricks, but he didn’t do any unnecessary flourishes. He simply demonstrated exactly what he would be asking the students to do.
After riding a short distance, he swung his tail and came to a stop on his front edge. He bent down to remove his board, dragged it over, and asked, “Who wants to go first?”
Everyone looked at each other hesitantly.
The man clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. “No one dares.”
He used a declarative sentence.
This made everyone even more reluctant, almost wanting to turn back and call Lao Yan to return, preferring to just learn flatland tricks for this lesson.
Wei Zhi was absentmindedly wondering who would be the first brave soul when she felt the man’s gaze sweep across the crowd and land on her face.
Wei Zhi: “…”
This was exactly why in university, she wasn’t afraid of anything except the teachers of large classes like Ideological and Moral Cultivation remembering her name—
Among hundreds of students they didn’t know, they only knew you. How could you escape being called on to answer questions or take attendance?
Wei Zhi felt a twinge of discomfort, thinking it would be better to volunteer herself and at least gain a reputation for bravery, rather than being called on. So she hugged her board and shouldered her way through the crowd.
The 50-50 wasn’t difficult.
She just stiffly rode onto the feature, slid across it, and at the moment she was about to fall off the feature, she let out a small scream, her hands flailing in the air—
The next second, her wrist was firmly grasped by a large hand beside her, stopping her forward fall. She and her snowboard were lifted by the man, his hand briefly supporting her waist, and then naturally and without lingering, he withdrew it in front of everyone.
“You should do a tail balance at the end. Coming straight off with your nose almost digging into the snow—who wouldn’t fall if not you?”
Wei Zhi looked back at the box, which was truly just a few centimeters above the snow, yet in that second of coming off the feature, she felt like she had been flying, her heart leaping into her throat.
“This feature is too high,” she said softly.
Shan Chong glanced at her casually, then at the box behind the young girl, and said without hesitation, “Don’t talk nonsense.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
It took quite a while to practice the 50 50 until they could barely manage to come off smoothly.
Shan Chong began teaching them the boardslide.
“After getting on the feature, keep your shoulders still. The line from your shoulders to your arms should be perpendicular to the box… Rotate your hips, and turn them over, creating a counter-rotation in your body. Your gaze should always be towards the direction you’re riding, which is the end of the feature.”
Wei Zhi was the first to try the boardslide again.
However, this time she was completely at a loss.
She tried her best to twist her hips, but it felt useless. The snowboard under her feet didn’t move an inch. As she was about to slide across the entire box, she panicked and looked down to see what was wrong with her snowboard—
This glance proved disastrous. The moment she lowered her head, her snowboard tilted, and her riding trajectory changed completely!
Her sudden head movement caught Shan Chong off guard. He heard her yelp “Aiya!” as she slid off the middle of the feature while still on her board…
Then her whole body lurched forward.
Flailing her arms, she fell with a “thud,” though it didn’t look painful. She raised her head from the snow, looking bewildered at him.
The man returned her puzzled gaze.
They stared at each other for a few seconds before Shan Chong stepped forward to lift her, unable to resist asking, “Why are you looking at me?”
The strange atmosphere was indescribably funny, and the classmates behind them started laughing. The young girl’s face slowly reddened beneath her face guard. She let out an “Aiya” and said, “I’m asking you why I fell off halfway!”
“You looked in the wrong direction,” Shan Chong said. “Do I need to explain? I said to always look in the direction you’re riding. Why did you look down just now?”
“I was checking if my board had turned sideways.”
“It won’t turn sideways. I just told you to practice twisting your upper body first. The upper body counter-rotation comes before the lower body. Right now, you’re just doing an upper body counter-rotation based on the 50-50…”
As he spoke, the man looked back. The people behind them had finished laughing and were bending down to put on their boards, ready to set off. No one was watching them.
He reached out to brush the snow off her face.
And pinched her soft cheek while he was at it.
“Weren’t you doing quite well on flat ground? Are Lao Yan and I speaking different languages?”
“No, it’s just that the box is so small. As soon as I felt something off with my feet, I couldn’t help but want to look at it. I was afraid of falling off—”
“The box is the widest and lowest feature you can encounter… Anyway, that’s not important. If you keep your center of gravity above the board and step firmly on the feature, how could you possibly fall off? Looking at it is exactly what makes you fall off.”
“…Forget it, I can’t explain it to you. You don’t understand!”
“I don’t understand?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Wei Zhi, let’s discuss something.”
Wei Zhi paused, looking at him a bit warily, because usually when this person called her by her full name, it meant she was either about to be scolded or hit.
“What’s your situation now? Thinking I won’t dare to scold you, so you’re not listening to anything, huh?”
“…”
Here it comes, the disciplinary teacher lecture mode.
“Your attitude of taking advantage is becoming increasingly obvious.”
“…”
The man finished speaking.
He saw the little girl’s cat-like eyes slowly widen, looking at him in shock, as if to say, “What’s wrong? Are you getting impatient? Are you already impatient? We’ve barely started and you’re already impatient? Your feelings for me are just this little after all.”
“What do you want to say?” she asked.
Her words carried emotion, the air filled with a “Come on, come on, want to argue? Come on!” flavor.
This stunned Shan Chong. He took three seconds to recall what he had just said, then considered his words again.
“Nothing just wanted to discuss something.”
“Hmm?”
“…”
He lowered his eyes slightly.
In a voice only the two of them could hear, he said a sentence full of manly spirit—
“Can you stop bullying your master?”