This time, Lao Yan drank heavily—drinking is harmful to health, and he wasn’t one to often drink to excess. So when he collapsed this time, he was immediately sent to the hospital.
He woke up early the next morning with a splitting headache. A bowl of still-warm white porridge sat by his bedside, along with a note in Bei Ci’s flamboyant handwriting: “Little brats only deserve this.”
There was no hangover soup.
Jiang Nanfeng, being from Guangdong and Guangxi, had an innate talent for making soups. No matter what strange ingredients she threw into the pot, the result was always delicious…
So ever since they got together, every time Lao Yan woke up after drinking, there would always be a bowl of hangover soup waiting for him—
Sometimes it was traditional pork rib soup with carrots and corn, sometimes it was Korean-style bean sprouts and soft tofu soup with lots of chili peppers. One bowl would warm him up and make his headache disappear.
But now, all he had was a bowl of plain porridge, sitting quietly by his bedside with a “take it or leave it” attitude.
He was wearing a hospital gown, his hair still reeking of alcohol from the night before. The fermented malt smell was so strong it made his head hurt.
He rolled over, unable to comprehend how he had ended up in this situation.
After a few minutes of quiet reflection to clear his mind, he felt a bit more energetic. He picked up his phone and saw the avatar he most wanted to see lit up in WeChat—
[Jiang Zhi: Jiji said you’re sick?]
I sent it three hours ago, around 4 AM.
Lao Yan’s fingers twitched. He wanted to reply “I miss you.” In the past, he definitely would have sent that, maybe with a bit of coquettishness. Any girl with even the slightest bit of kindness—the kind who would look twice at a cute dog on the street—would chat with him for a while.
But before sending those three words, he hesitated for a long time. It was as if this was his first time falling in love, suddenly felt unsure if he could still talk to her this way…
He cautiously deleted those three words and changed his reply to “Yeah, it’s nothing.”
Before sending, he hesitated again. Would this come across as too cold?
He had never spoken to anyone like this before. What if Jiang Nanfeng thought he was pretending after doing something wrong… This might be his only chance.
[Lao Yan: Chong-ge, you up? Need to ask you something. Jiang Nanfeng messaged asking if I was sick. How should I reply?]
He was desperate—
After all, among the people around him, the only one in a relationship that wasn’t a complete mess seemed to be Shan Chongzhi…
He and Wei Zhi had only been together for a few days, but they had already gone public. Now when people in their circle mentioned him, “good man of the snow scene” was mentioned more frequently than “park riding god.”
After waiting a while, the man replied.
[Chong: ?]
[Chong: You’re asking me?]
[Chong: Don’t say anything. Get out of bed now, record a video of yourself kowtowing, and send it to her. Although it’s useless, it’s a 100% safe reply that won’t get you blocked… Given your current situation, I strongly advise you to choose this option.]
Lao Yan stared at his phone in confusion. Maybe he was delirious from his illness because he considered trying it.
However, not long after, Shan Chongzhi’s WeChat buzzed again—
[Chong: Your little shimei just had my phone.]
[Chong: Anyway, you’ve already broken up and there’s no chance of getting back together. Just reply whatever.]
Lao Yan: “…”
[Lao Yan: Give the phone back to little Shimei!]
[Chong: ?]
Lao Yan put down his phone. Wearing the hospital gown, pale-faced, he sighed at the bright sunlight outside the window.
His gaze deepened slightly, and that somewhat youthful face showed a rare hint of maturity. He picked up his phone and replied to Jiang Nanfeng—
[Lao Yan: I’m fine.]
[Lao Yan: About yesterday, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have casually given away something you gave me.]
After sending these two messages, Lao Yan stared intently at his phone for a long time.
Then he found himself trying to self-console: It’s okay, this is already good enough. At least I haven’t been blocked.
He didn’t know how long he waited. The minutes might have made a full rotation on the clock face, but there was still no response.
Just as Lao Yan was about to put down his phone, his head throbbing, the screen lit up. He quickly picked it up again, only to find it was a text message reminding him to pay his phone bill.
Lao Yan: “…”
So annoying.
…
The previous night, after learning that it was Lao Yan who had been hospitalized and that he wasn’t in any immediate danger, Wei Zhi calmed down, said “Oh,” got up to take a shower, and went to bed.
Early the next morning, she rubbed her eyes as she got up and checked her phone. Shan Chongzhi had messaged saying he was waiting downstairs and to come down for breakfast when she was ready.
Seeing the message was sent twenty minutes ago, she quickly called him.
“This early?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“You couldn’t sleep, but I could,” Wei Zhi yawned. “Why didn’t you call to wake me up when you arrived?”
“Afraid you might have morning grumpiness,” the man’s voice carried a hint of laughter. “Didn’t want to risk it.”
Wei Zhi quickly got ready and went downstairs. They found a nearby breakfast place and sat down. The man was also yawning continuously, and he told Wei Zhi that Lao Yan had passed out, so he had to cover his classes that day, which was why he was up so early. “I thought you hadn’t slept well.”
Wei Zhi pushed the soy milk towards him, watching as he added three spoonfuls of sugar.
“I didn’t sleep well,” the man said, bleary-eyed. “It felt a bit strange sleeping alone.”
Wei Zhi: “?”
Shan Chongzhi: “?”
They stared at each other for several seconds. Wei Zhi said, “To prevent any misunderstanding, I’m just asking casually, but was that last sentence meant to hint at something?”
“No.”
Before Wei Zhi could breathe a sigh of relief, the man said expressionlessly, “It was a direct statement.”
It had little to do with man’s baser instincts; human nature is to take an inch when given a mile.
Shan Chongzhi usually didn’t eat much for breakfast. He ate distractedly, playing with his phone… Wei Zhi took his phone away, telling him to “eat properly,” and glanced at it. She saw Lao Yan’s series of questions about Jiang Nanfeng.
“If he had been this considerate earlier, things wouldn’t have come to this,” Wei Zhi scoffed, typing rapidly.
She sent the message before returning the phone to Shan Chongzhi.
He didn’t seem to mind her using his phone, just lazily held a steamed bun and watched her, at most reminding her, “He’s still a patient, don’t be too harsh.”
After breakfast, Shan Chongzhi took Wei Zhi back to the hotel for a nap, telling her to entertain herself in the morning and that he’d pick her up for lunch after his class.
The hotel was right next to Sunac Snow Park. Wei Zhi figured nothing would be more fun than spending time with her boyfriend, so she yawned, bought a lift ticket, got two coffees from the café, and a bag of White Rabbit milk candies from the supermarket. She unwrapped them and put them in her pockets before entering the snowpark.
As soon as she entered, she saw Shan Chongzhi on the slopes. He seemed to have just started his lesson, teaching flat-ground tricks to seven or eight people.
Today, the man was wearing an all-white hooded sweatshirt and deep purple sweatpants. The board under his feet wasn’t his usual one, because Wei Zhi had never seen a board look so…
How to put it?
Severely deformed, like a piece of paper.
Looking closer, it was the same November kitten board, the men’s version, that Jiang Nanfeng had heartlessly abandoned yesterday—a standard freestyle board. Wei Zhi guessed he must have borrowed it from Lao Yan since Shan Chongzhi had only brought one park board this time. The Mach that could barely do some freestyle tricks had been left in Altay.
The man looked stylish in his outfit today. The white didn’t make him look as thin, and when he stood there, he was the picture of a tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted young man. His dark eyes were sharp and focused, exuding an aura of mastery even when not in motion.
“I’ve already taught you nose-press balance. While sliding, don’t rush. First, shift your weight forward, lift the tail of the board, and rotate 90 degrees. At this point, turn to face uphill. Pay attention to your upper body, stay stable without swaying, and mind your waist, hips, and gaze. Don’t twist your hips unnecessarily—”
His voice was neither loud nor soft, steady and magnetic.
Wei Zhi shifted her gaze from his face to his students—
Good grief, she hadn’t realized before, but the freestyle winter camp was a completely different concept from the park riding camp. It wasn’t clear what kind of winter camp this was for freestyle, as all the students were young women around 18 or 19, at most in their early twenties, standing there in impressive numbers.
Now, the genuinely young girls were giggling and calling out “Teacher” every few moments, with many questions about just the nose-press balance…
Completely ignoring Shan Chongzhi’s statement that he had “already taught them nose-press balance.”
Which snowboarder passing by wouldn’t cast an envious glance at Shan Chongzhi?
Wei Zhi sat nearby watching for a while. The first trick they were learning today was a backside 180—
Press the nose, rotate the tail, face uphill, and after the tail rotates past 90 degrees, there’s an upward pulling motion while the nose is still in contact with the snow.
Using this bit of support, pull, and simultaneously turn your gaze downhill.
The moment the tail lands, the upper body follows the rotation, quickly resuming normal riding posture.
This is how to do a sticky rotation internal 180.
A basic entry-level freestyle trick.
Wei Zhi: I’ve learned it.jpg
While Shan Chongzhi was still teaching his students on flat ground, Wei Zhi got tired of hearing them call him “Teacher” repeatedly. She put the two coffees aside, grabbed her board, and headed to the intermediate slope.
The intermediate slope was quite short. After taking the magic carpet up, she was already halfway down as soon as she started sliding.
Following Shan Chongzhi’s instructions, Wei Zhi first pressed the nose, which made her speed up a bit. As she was trying hard to lift the tail, causing the board to deform, she suddenly remembered to look uphill. She twisted her gaze—
But it was too late.
Her board slipped, catching an edge with a “ka” sound. She yelped “Aiya” as she fell sideways onto the slope, then rolled a few times down the hill.
She ended up right at Shan Chongzhi’s feet.
Just in time to hear the man tell his students, “Alright, now get on the magic carpet.”
So she lay there in the snow for a while, waiting for him to walk away before getting up.
However, after waiting for quite some time, the pair of black snow boots next to her didn’t move. Wei Zhi raised her hand to adjust her helmet and heard her boyfriend’s cool voice from above: “So early in the morning, and you’re already paying such grand respects.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Before she could react, a large hand grabbed her elbow, effortlessly lifting her from the ground.
As Wei Zhi stood up, snow fell off her sheets. The man made a noncommittal “Mm” sound and said flatly, “You’re shedding.”
With her face guard on, she couldn’t see his expression. As he reached out to brush her off, she flinched away, her gaze flickering: “Don’t, I’m sore all over. Can’t you be gentler? Your hands are so strong—”
That sentence made Shan Chongzhi stop.
Wei Zhi also thought the words sounded familiar. After a moment’s reflection, her face turned bright red.
“In public,” Shan Chongzhi withdrew his hand without touching her, “watch what you say.”
Wei Zhi let out an “Oh.”
Shan Chongzhi continued: “Your gaze turned too slowly. What did I just say? As soon as the tail lifts, you should be facing uphill. Otherwise, where’s your momentum to pull the tail? Were you just forcing it? You looked so serious sitting there listening earlier, were you daydreaming?”
Wei Zhi: “…”
No, last night after you were done having your fun and holding me, you didn’t use this tone of voice.
Putting on snow gear and pretending not to know me, huh?
You’ll easily lose me like this.
Wei Zhi: “You saw me earlier?”
The man-made an affirmative sound and reached out to brush the snow from her face and hair. Finally, he took off his glove and used his fingertip to remove a snowflake from her eyelashes, then pinched her cheek: “I saw you as soon as you came in.”
He was about to lower his hand.
As his slender fingertips flashed before Wei Zhi’s face, she couldn’t let the opportunity pass. She grabbed his hand and nuzzled it against her cheek.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking down at her.
“Nothing, just reminding myself that the person in front of me is my boyfriend,” she said sweetly, “and not some random, inexplicable demon who showed up to be harsh.”
Like a cat, Shan Chongzhi observed her wave of ingratiating behavior. He stood still, letting her nuzzle to her heart’s content before slowly withdrawing his hand. In an exceptionally upright tone, he said, “Alright, if you want to sneak in some learning, go ahead. I’m not charging you tuition.”
Wei Zhi instantly changed her attitude, dropping his hand.
She pointed to a spot not far away: “I brought you coffee.”
Shan Chongzhi glanced over and made a noncommittal sound. Then he saw the young woman lowering her head, rummaging in her pockets, and pulling out a handful of candies. “And candy.”
This guy loves sweets.
She knew he wasn’t particularly fond of coffee.
Shan Chongzhi looked at her outstretched palm, quite satisfied. He grabbed all the candy without leaving her a single piece, then turned around with his board to get on the magic carpet.
Wei Zhi quietly followed behind him.
Standing on the magic carpet, the man unwrapped a piece of candy, lowered his face guard, and popped it into his mouth.
By now, Shan Chongzhi’s students had all arrived at the top, eagerly waiting for him—
The newcomers to the snow scene didn’t know about “snow gods” or anything like that, nor did they know who was teaching them. They just knew that when they arrived this morning with their boards, they thought, “Oh, the face-guarded teacher is kind of handsome.” Now that he had removed his faceguard, they were utterly stunned by his looks.
They pushed and shoved each other, whispering fervently.
What could Wei Zhi do?
She could only curse the hospitalized Lao Yan a million times in her heart.
After getting off the magic carpet, Shan Chongzhi walked over and had them line up to go down one by one, reminding them to control their speed and not go too fast to avoid falling.
Wei Zhi pretended to be a passerby and approached.
At this moment, she heard a young girl ask brightly, “Teacher, what are you eating?”
After a few seconds of silence, the man thought for a moment and replied in a flat tone: “Candy.”
“Oh? You have candy!”
The young girl was genuinely lively, without any ill intentions. A group of them flocked around the man, holding out their hands: “We want some too! Don’t keep it all to yourself!”
Wei Zhi bent down, clicking her bindings into place.
She heard the man beside her make an “Mm” sound and say coolly: “My girlfriend gave them to me. If she found out, she’d get angry with me.”
The young girls let out disappointed sighs.
“She won’t know.”
“There are no secrets in this world.”
“We won’t tell her.”
“No,” the man said seriously, “I don’t dare.”
Wei Zhi finished securing her bindings and stood up. She slid down, pressed the nose, lifted the tail, rotated to face uphill, used the board’s spring to lift slightly, and as the tail completed its rotation, she stepped on the small snow-covered nose section. Her gaze simultaneously turned downhill.
Her upper body rotated.
The board made a muffled “pa” sound as it landed.
Sticky rotation 180, completed.
On a whim, she looked back and saw the man follow suit under the guise of a demonstration. He glided down, pulled the board, rotated, and landed—
Right next to her.
Shan Chongzhi: “Girlfriend, that sticky rotation 180 just now was pretty good.”
Wei Zhi: “Boyfriend, that survival instinct just now was also pretty good.”
Shan Chongzhi: “The last person who carelessly gave things away is now lying in the hospital.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Shan Chongzhi: “The essential difference between humans and animals is that humans have the wisdom to learn from lessons.”
After saying this, he performed a backside slide, creating a wall of snow on the slope. He came to a stable stop amidst the frenzied applause of the group of young women on the hillside—
Wei Zhi: “…”
One might not need to attract bees and butterflies, but when it’s time for a peacock to spread its tail, it must do so. After all, peacocks have tails for displaying them.
:).