What is South City Third Hospital famous for? The orthopedics department where Han Yiming works.
After the unfortunate patient’s vital signs stabilized, he was transferred directly to South City Third Hospital. Wei Zhi and the others followed along, watching the increasingly familiar scenery pass by outside the window until the ambulance finally stopped at the familiar hospital entrance.
Wei Zhi wasn’t particularly afraid of seeing Han Yiming. However, after she had turned him away when he came to pick her up last time, he might have felt embarrassed and had barely spoken to her since. Meeting again unexpectedly in this situation could potentially be awkward.
But it was fine. She had already apologized face-to-face. Now she could simply ignore him, pretending not to know or see him.
Patting her chest to build up her courage, Wei Zhi stepped out of the ambulance with a composed expression. Just as she was about to walk confidently towards the hospital entrance, a man’s hand suddenly grabbed the hood of her sweatshirt from behind.
“I suddenly can’t remember – which hospital did you say your neighbor’s brother works at?” The man’s unhurried voice sounded near her ear. Wei Zhi turned her head to find that the person who had been behind her moments ago was now beside her, leaning down slightly.
His thin lips were right next to her ear. As she turned, her earlobe brushed against them.
Wei Zhi let out a soft “Oh” and raised her hand to rub her slightly reddened earlobe. As the man asked his question, Wei Zhi’s peripheral vision caught sight of Han Yiming standing at the emergency department entrance, talking to someone who appeared to be an ER doctor. With his gold-rimmed glasses and white coat, Han Yiming cut an imposing figure with his tall stature. They were too far away to hear what he was saying.
Wei Zhi: “…”
Speak of the devil.
Wei Zhi remained silent for a few seconds, which Shan Chong quickly noticed.
He glanced up, shifting his gaze from her face to follow her line of sight. He spotted Dr. Han in the distance – the man was standing sideways with his back to them, but his presence was striking. People passing by couldn’t help but turn to look at him.
Considering Han’s true personality, Shan Chong had to admit the man had the air of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Shan Chong let out a simple “Oh,” straightened up, and stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking somewhat lazy.
Wei Zhi turned to look at him, blinking.
Shan Chong: “Hm?”
The single syllable emerging from deep in his throat indicated a question.
Wei Zhi: “…”
“Though I’m not sure if it’s necessary, I’d like to kindly emphasize, without any personal feelings involved, that I didn’t call 120, I didn’t drive the ambulance, and I even came here following you—”
Wei Zhi swallowed.
“In short, this has nothing to do with me.”
Hearing this, the man didn’t speak. He just gave her a meaningful look.
At this moment, he was still wearing the sweatshirt from the ski resort, having only taken off the quick-dry shirt and left it in the car when they left. With his mask on, it had the same effect as wearing face protection…
Standing there, he exuded the aura of a master.
Wei Zhi felt the urge to stand at attention under his gaze.
Her expression tensed slightly as she pondered how to handle the situation if he got angry. Just then, she heard the man say in a casual tone, “What are you nervous about? I’m not you, little jealous one.”
Oh, false alarm.
Wei Zhi let out a sigh of relief and glared at him.
Shan Chong chuckled and took her hand, walking towards the busiest part of the crowd—
In a nearby observation room, surrounded by layers of people, lay today’s unfortunate fellow. He was still in the emergency department waiting to be transferred, needing to check his vitals and get an X-ray. By now, he had fully regained consciousness and was crying out in pain on the bed…
After such a heavy fall, how could he not be in pain?
Wei Zhi poked her head in for a quick look before pulling back. She disliked coming to hospitals, whether for her treatment or to visit sick people—
Although people around her often teased her for being an adult who was still afraid of doctors, she didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. These days, who would willingly seek out hospitals and doctors unless something was wrong?
Oh. Pregnancy doesn’t count.
Wei Zhi didn’t want to get any closer, but she also felt awkward just walking away. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to do.
At this point, Shan Chong, still holding her hand, was about to step into the room when he suddenly paused, took half a step back, and looked at the young woman standing by the door. He fell silent for a moment.
He let go of her hand.
Then, in a light tone, he said to her, “Don’t come in. Go sit over there.”
Wei Zhi looked at him. “Is that okay?”
Shan Chong replied, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
So, about five minutes later, Wei Zhi was sitting on a chair outside the emergency department, hands on her knees, sitting as straight as a schoolgirl, staring at a cracked tile on the floor, lost in thought.
People bustled back and forth in front of her, many being carried in on stretchers or being directed to different departments after initial consultations.
“Xiao Zhi?”
A deep male voice sounded above her head. The young woman’s unfocused eyes gradually regained focus, her gaze moving from the crack in the floor to the soft-soled shoes of the man standing in front of her, then up to his white coat.
She looked up to see Han Yiming standing before her, holding a stack of reports and X-ray films.
Wei Zhi responded with a delayed “Ah.”
“Why are you here?” Han Yiming’s voice sounded much the same as before, at least in public it was gentle and steady. “Do you know someone who’s been admitted?”
Wei Zhi instinctively glanced back at the ward.
Han Yiming thought for a moment. He had heard earlier about someone from a ski resort being brought in after a bad fall. He hadn’t had a chance to check on the patient’s condition yet, having just briefly discussed the situation with the ER staff and collected the reports. He was about to go see the patient when he spotted her at the entrance.
Suddenly, he remembered that Wei Zhi’s boyfriend worked in that field, right?
He raised an eyebrow, feeling a twinge of emotion.
He shuffled the reports in his hand, about to comment on how seriously her boyfriend had been injured when a tall figure in a white sweatshirt emerged from the room. The man stood at the doorway, his expression calm: “What’s the matter?”
His voice was cool.
He carried an inherently aloof air about him.
Though Han Yiming hadn’t paid much attention to the other man’s appearance last time, he recognized him now. Despite both wearing masks, there was a spark of tension in their brief eye contact.
Shan Chong had noticed Dr. Han standing outside with the reports, not entering the room, which seemed odd. Then he saw his girlfriend sitting in the chair, looking bewildered as she gazed up at the doctor…
The hospital corridor was bustling with people coming and going.
So he came out.
Raising his hand to smooth his short hair, slightly disheveled from the helmet, the man spoke in a fairly polite tone, repeating his question: “What’s wrong? Is the injury serious?”
Dr. Han let out a slow, ambiguous sound.
Shan Chong’s dark pupils focused on his face, staring for a few seconds before letting out a laugh devoid of much humor—
Then he glanced at Wei Zhi.
His laugh gained a hint of genuine amusement.
“What’s going on,” he said in a lazy, hoarse voice, “It’s not like I’m the one lying in there.”
His girlfriend looked as if she had seen a ghost.
His girlfriend’s… former fiancé looked utterly disappointed.
It was somewhat humorous, to be honest.
Han Yiming said nothing, lowering his head to speak gently to Wei Zhi, “Wait a moment for big brother,” before turning to enter the room with the test results… Even after he left, Wei Zhi didn’t react much. She just sat in the chair, unconsciously swinging her legs slightly, her gaze instinctively following the moving white coat.
But she didn’t look for long.
A figure suddenly blocked her view.
Two fingers appeared on her face, gripping her chin and forcefully turning her face back.
“He’s gone,” the man said calmly, “Stop looking.”
Wei Zhi, her chin held up by his fingers, met the man’s dark eyes in a daze. Before she could speak, she felt his fingers hook under her chin, scratching that small indentation…
The ticklish sensation made her squint.
Finally coming to her senses, she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest, and said in a sweet, obedient voice: “Who was it earlier that said they were different from me and didn’t get jealous so easily?”
The young woman’s soft, fragrant body masked the smell of disinfectant in the hospital corridor. Shan Chong let out a “Hm,” chuckling softly as his fingers threaded through her hair, caressing it for a moment before saying lightly: “Who said that?”
Wei Zhi looked up at him from within his embrace.
Under her bright, sparkling gaze, he didn’t seem embarrassed at all. He raised his hand to pat her forehead: “Don’t stay here anymore. You go back first and backstab the afternoon class. Lao Yan has no one watching him, he might not even be able to call a nurse after getting an injection.”
Wei Zhi responded with an “Oh” and took a taxi back on her own.
Although the two hospitals were in different cities, they were both on the outskirts and not far apart.
…
When Han Yiming finished his work and circled back to the department entrance, the chair where the young woman had been sitting was empty.
He stood there in silence for a moment, then turned to ask a young nurse in the emergency department if she had seen the girl in the sweater sitting outside earlier. The nurse looked confused and said she wasn’t sure.
As he turned his head, he saw that the previous space in front of the emergency department was now occupied by a person. He stood there with a relaxed posture, hands in his pockets, silently watching Han Yiming search for someone.
It was Shan Chong.
Han Yiming hesitated briefly before approaching Shan Chong and asking, “Where is she?”
The person being questioned paused for a moment. After a few seconds, he let out a muffled sound from deep in his throat, sounding somewhat lazy as his eyelashes fluttered lightly.
Glancing back at the unfortunate patient still groaning on the hospital bed, he eventually shifted his gaze away. He lazily looked at the man in the white coat and said calmly, “I sent her back to Guangzhou.”
“Guangzhou? I heard from the nurse that you came from a hospital near Sunac Cultural Tourism City in Guangzhou, right? It’s over an hour round trip between the two hospitals,” Han Yiming said. “She barely stood steady when she got here, and you sent her back again?”
Looking at Han Yiming, Shan Chong smiled without much humor and said, “Mm-hmm.”
Han Yiming: “…”
Surprised by his quick agreement, Han Yiming looked confused.
Then, he heard the man say slowly with a sigh, “Can’t help it. I’m a rather petty person.”
He paused.
The smile faded.
“I don’t want to see you two standing together for even a second.”
…
Guangzhou.
When Wei Zhi pushed open the door to Lao Yan’s hospital room, it was just after dinner time. He was lying in bed looking at his phone, with an IV drip in the back of his hand. He didn’t seem to be in bad shape.
If the hospital wasn’t short on beds, he probably would have been discharged already.
Wei Zhi walked over and put the bag she was carrying at the foot of his bed. Feeling something on the bed, he shifted his gaze from his phone and glanced at her. Wei Zhi pulled out the folding chair from under the hospital bed and sat down.
Lao Yan looked away.
“Why did you come?” he asked, pretending to be nonchalant while staring at his phone. “Where’s Brother Chong? Didn’t he come?”
“The guy from this morning was sent to Third Hospital. My neighbor works in orthopedics there. He found it annoying to see me and sent me back here,” Wei Zhi explained in one breath, then paused before asking, “Disappointed?”
Lao Yan: “Disappointed about what?”
Wei Zhi rested her elbows on the edge of the hospital bed and blinked. “That it wasn’t Jiang Nanfeng who asked me to come.”
Lao Yan’s hand holding the phone stiffened. Seeing her say the most annoying things with an innocent face, he thought to himself that he didn’t know if Brother Chong realized he had picked up a little devil after being so picky.
At first, he wanted to pretend.
But now that he was exposed, he gave up the act. He turned to face Wei Zhi and stared at her. “She didn’t say anything to you?”
“Nope,” she narrowed her eyes slightly. “I’m not very clear, have you two broken up?”
She knew how to pick the most critical words. With so many words to choose from, she had to use those two most heart-wrenching ones. Lao Yan thought for a moment and said “Not yet,” then hesitated before adding “probably” through gritted teeth.
Wei Zhi covered her face, her eyes curved in laughter. If the hospital didn’t prohibit loud noises, she might have burst out laughing.
About an hour later.
When Shan Chong entered the hospital room carrying food, he saw the young woman sitting with her back to the door, her whole body radiating joy. He asked “What’s going on now?” as he walked into the room.
Lao Yan looked at his master: “Did you bring her here to annoy me?”
“It has nothing to do with me.”
Shan Chong looked down at the young woman with a face full of schadenfreude and reprimanded her symbolically with a voice devoid of authority to stop laughing, then sat down next to her.
Wei Zhi lowered her hands: “Master is so scared that he doesn’t even dare to casually give others a White Rabbit milk candy.”
Reminded by her words, Shan Chong fished out candy from his pocket, unwrapped it, and ate it while observing Lao Yan’s expression. His spirits seemed fine, just a bit pale-faced, possibly from being irritated by his little junior sister.
“I didn’t think that much,” Lao Yan said dejectedly, lowering his head. “Who knew she was there at the time? If she didn’t know, nothing would have happened. I just lent those clothes to someone to wear, and even told her not to dirty or damage them…”
As he spoke, he became increasingly frustrated and frowned.
Wei Zhi picked up her phone: “Forget it, I’ll ask Jiang Nanfeng to clear things up with you. Don’t keep hanging like this, neither here nor there.”
Lao Yan: “Don’t!”
Wei Zhi raised an eyebrow at him.
Lao Yan stared at the IV drip above his head: “If you ask her to clear things up with me now, what else could we talk about besides breaking up… How about in a few days?”
Like a prisoner about to be executed, although stretching out his neck or shrinking back would both result in death, he just didn’t want to move. He wanted to delay for as long as possible.
Wei Zhi wasn’t sure what Lao Yan was thinking. From what she heard, it seemed he rarely dated older, sister-type women before. He usually dated younger girls who would get angry at him and even need him to take care of them.
With Jiang Nanfeng, it was the opposite. She treated him differently, indulging him in every way. Even when he stood her up, she thought he genuinely liked her… Who would have thought that when she left, she didn’t even look back.
Wei Zhi put away her phone.
Just then, Lao Yan’s phone lit up. The person he had been waiting for all morning finally replied with a simple four-word message: “Glad you’re okay.”
It wasn’t even “Glad you’re alright,” but a colder phrase that could easily be replaced with “Good you’re not dead” without much difference.
Lao Yan’s face instantly darkened. In the past, when he was drunk or had a slight stomachache, she would always ask about his condition and even bring him food and medicine early in the morning… Now, after he had been in the hospital for a whole night, all he got was these cold four words.
Lao Yan, having been through many relationships, felt like his face had been thrown on the ground and stomped on. He started to feel some resentment—
[Lao Yan: I replied to you as soon as I opened my eyes, waited for you all morning, and this is all you give me? Four words?]
At least this time she had her phone in hand and didn’t make him wait another afternoon.
[Jiang Zhi: I’m at work, little boy.]
This form of address made Lao Yan back down.
But the next second, she made him furious again.
[Jiang Zhi: Besides, I’m just asking out of politeness. Why are you waiting for my reply?]
Lao Yan lifted his head to look towards the window. It was closed, otherwise he might have thrown his phone out… or jumped out himself.
[Lao Yan: You’re just happy seeing me wait for you like this, aren’t you?]
[Lao Yan: Fine.]
[Lao Yan: I’ll be your lapdog. Just look at me once, that’s enough.]
[Jiang Zhi: Give me a break. Have you ever seen a lapdog that wags its tail, doesn’t get a response, and immediately bites?]
Wei Zhi heard his phone constantly vibrating and saw his face getting increasingly grim. She knew Jiang Nanfeng had replied to his messages. The atmosphere became so oppressive that she felt a bit nervous and looked back at Shan Chong. The latter was lowering his head, looking at comments on his short video platform.
He didn’t even bother to lift his head.
Wei Zhi turned back to Lao Yan, exasperated: “Don’t be angry. This is just how Jiang Nanfeng is. When she likes you, she treats you incredibly well. When she doesn’t like you, she turns cold and pretends not to know you—”
Before she could finish, she heard the man next to her snort with laughter. She turned to see him looking at her with an amused expression.
Behind her, Lao Yan’s face was ashen: “Thank you, you’re really good at comforting people.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Lao Yan lowered his head to type.
[Lao Yan: Can’t we talk about this properly?]
[Lao Yan: Don’t be in a rush to delete me.]
[Lao Yan: That girl and I are just friends. We’ve known each other for a while, from the same freestyle skiing club. She’s the one who specifically shoots and edits videos for us… What could possibly be going on between us? That day I was opening a package and she was nearby. She said she was cold and wanted clothes. How could I refuse her? It’s not like I gave her the clothes. It’s just one piece of clothing. I didn’t think much of it. How did it make you so angry?]
He typed a whole bunch of messages. After a while, the other side replied with just three words: I’m not angry.
She might not be angry, but Lao Yan was about to die from anger.
He immediately picked up the phone to send a voice message—
“If you’re slow at typing, just use voice!”
Wei Zhi hadn’t seen their chat history but could guess what happened. She almost burst out laughing.
Jiang Nanfeng’s side was probably silent for about three minutes before typing again. She sent a voice message, just two seconds long. Lao Yan played it on speaker, so the whole ward heard a calm female voice floating above: “Let’s break up.”
This time, except for Wei Zhi and Shan Chong, even the 70-year-old man in the next bed looked over.
“Oh my, young man!” the old man said with a smile. “Did your girlfriend get angry? What did you do? Did you drink too much?”
Everyone in the ward was from the same department, mostly old drunks who had been carried in horizontally after drinking too much… They all empathized with each other, exemplifying the spirit of “respecting the elderly and loving the young” and “mutual care.”
Lao Yan’s face looked even worse than a ghost’s.
Ignoring the old man, he lowered his head and watched as the person he had complained was typing too slowly started writing an essay—
[Jiang Nanfeng: Although when we got together, it wasn’t that serious of a start, it seemed a bit muddle-headed, but my principle is that play is play and fun is fun. Once I start a relationship, at least during the relationship, I won’t keep other fish on the side. You’re different, always ready for the next relationship without a gap… (300 words omitted)]
[Jiang Nanfeng: Looking at it this way, we’re really not that suitable for each other. Where are we not suitable? We’re not suitable because the way you used to deal with your little girlfriends doesn’t work with me. When you’re happy, you buy some small gifts, teach her some lessons, practice a bit. When you’re not happy, you put her aside, and when you think of her again, you try to please her with a purpose… (400 words omitted)]
[Jiang Nanfeng: Thinking about it now, it was happier when we were just friends. At least then there was no psychological burden… (300 words omitted)]
[Jiang Nanfeng: Let’s break up. Although I don’t have any major deal-breakers, I do have a mental cleanliness obsession. I don’t care about your past, but it’s hard not to care about what you’re thinking now… (200 words omitted)]
[Jiang Nanfeng: I’ll let you go. You’re not born to settle down, and you don’t want to settle down.]
…
She sent at least six messages.
Added together, it was enough for a high school student to submit three essays.
At first, Lao Yan read them seriously, but as he continued, something seemed off. How did the latter part seem so irrelevant?
He turned the phone screen directly to Wei Zhi and asked, “Does she type with eight hands?”
Wei Zhi glanced at it, searched for “break-up essay templates” online, and handed the phone back to Lao Yan: “Look on the bright side, at least she modified a few key words based on the actual situation.”
Lao Yan threw the phone.
Wei Zhi picked up his phone and looked at it for a while, then said, “She’s not wrong. When you were with her, you were still unconsciously standing by the pond, casting a net to keep fish. What were you trying to do? Even if you weren’t planning to have one foot in two boats, you were still ready to rush to the next feast at any time—”
Lao Yan turned over heavily: “I didn’t!”
Maybe he did before.
But during the time he was with Jiang Nanfeng, he really hadn’t.
Wei Zhi handed the phone back to him and said calmly, “The friend you claim to have known for many years, from the same club, doesn’t even know you have a girlfriend now… And you’re still trying to argue?”
Lao Yan: “Do I need to announce my relationship to the world?”
Wei Zhi: “Has Jiang Nanfeng hinted at you not to ‘raise fish’?”
Lao Yan: “…”
She hadn’t hinted. She had outright told him. He felt miserable.
Opening his short video platform, he glanced at his works page. Truthfully, while he had posted videos of Wei Zhi, he had also shared quite a few of Jiang Nanfeng—about three or four clips of them dancing together or her learning routines during class.
However, he had posted countless videos of various girls. No one took it seriously.
Even when he posted the duo dance video, someone commented:
“Who’s this girl? Can you introduce her to me? I’ll sign up for ten more classes!”
He replied: “Back off, she’s mine :)”
Yet, no one thought anything was amiss. Everyone assumed he was just joking.
Suddenly depressed, Lao Yan unpinned all his most-liked videos and pinned the one with Jiang Nanfeng instead. He also pinned his reply to that comment.
In his personal status, after various sponsorship and teaching appointment WeChat details, he added: “Married (facing widowhood), no idle chat, no flirting.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
She watched Lao Yan fiddle with his short video platform. A few minutes later, she refreshed and noticed the major update on his personal page.
Wei Zhi: “Widowhood?”
Lao Yan tossed his phone aside, rolled over, and covered himself with the blanket. “She said I’m an unqualified ‘simp’, wagging my tail without response and ready to bite—”
He paused, then continued sarcastically, “How dare I disobey her words!”
Looking at his back turned towards her, Wei Zhi truly felt his nineteen years of age now.
She glanced back at Shan Chong, who seemed lost in his phone without lifting his head. She kicked his chair, signaling him to manage his disciple.
Surprisingly, the man, engrossed in his phone, didn’t react to her prompt. After a few seconds, he slowly raised his head and murmured, “What?”
Wei Zhi thought for a moment, then opened the video Lao Yan had pinned. It was captioned “Beloved disciple :)” and showed him and Jiang Nanfeng performing synchronized dance moves.
Wei Zhi asked, “Did you see the video Lao Yan pinned? The one at the top.”
Shan Chong opened it, glanced, and said, “Oh. Yes, I saw it.”
Wei Zhi: “I want to film one too.”
“Sure,” the man leaned back against the hospital bed. “Do you want to try the big jump or the U-shaped groove? If not, I could manage some slope obstacles. FS or BS 360 or 540? 1080 might take me a couple of years though.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
Wei Zhi: “Shan Chong, do you not like me anymore?”
“No,” he denied quickly. “Did I hesitate? I agreed to it. It’s not my fault if you can’t get yourself together.”
Exasperated, Wei Zhi kicked him under the chair again and turned away. She fiddled with Lao Yan’s phone for a moment, then asked, “Is this Lao Yan’s official announcement?”
Shan Chong glanced at his page again, focusing on the pinned introduction: “Yes, it is.”
Wei Zhi: “Don’t you think this brave spirit is worth learning from?”
Shan Chong: “I don’t even have appointment WeChat on my page, and besides…”
He slowly looked at her, “I’m not facing widowhood.”
As he finished speaking, he noticed a notification from the DF Snow Equipment sponsor in his peripheral vision. He lowered his head to check—they had sent him the list of participants for the upcoming event, asking him to prepare for potential interview questions.
Shan Chong thought there wasn’t much to prepare for; he’d just answer whatever they asked. So he didn’t rush to open it, merely replying that he’d received it.
…
Today had certainly been chaotic.
After sending Lao Yan to the hospital last night, they’d gotten back late, and then woken up early today. In the afternoon, Shan Chong returned to his apartment, took a shower, and couldn’t keep his eyes open once he lay down.
He chatted idly with Wei Zhi on his phone for a bit before she urged him to sleep.
The man yawned in response and started browsing his phone to induce sleep. As he scrolled, he accidentally opened the participant list the sponsor had sent earlier that morning. Scanning it briefly, he noted that the other media representatives seemed fine, mostly from sports-related fields.
However, a few novelists and manga artists caught his eye. Looking at their work themes, they were all about figure skating or speed skating—
What did that have to do with him?
He took a screenshot.
[Chong: Boss, what do you think these figure skating and speed skating researchers can learn from me?]
[DF Snow Equipment: …]
[DF Snow Equipment: Hahaha, can’t help it! Those sports are popular domestically! Skiing has only taken off in recent years!]
[DF Snow Equipment: You can teach them about wearing helmets in snow parks and ice rinks, and advise beginners to seek instruction?]
[Chong: …]
[DF Snow Equipment: <image> Look, there’s even one about snowboarding! Don’t you have good eyesight?]
The other party sent a screenshot.
Among a long list of various manga, novels, and radio dramas, one work was circled in red.
Shan Chong squinted at the item within the red circle—
Title: “A Day in the Snow Country”
Author: Nerdy Jizhi
… Oh. Alright then.
Shan Chong casually sent back an “OK” hand gesture image. He was about to ask where to find this Nerdy’s manga when he suddenly felt the author’s name was familiar, as if he’d seen it somewhere before…
After pondering for a while, he remembered—wasn’t this the manga Bei Ci was reading?
Something about cultivation and ancient-style setting.
He’d always read it in bed, and when he got excited, he’d insist on showing Shan Chong, saying there was a supporting character who looked just like him. Didn’t that character die later?
Oh, not completely. He traveled through time afterward.
Uh.
Thinking of this, Shan Chong rolled over in bed and called Bei Ci, asking him what the manga app he usually used was called.
Bei Ci, who was teaching at the snow park, was bewildered: “The sun hasn’t set yet, isn’t it too early for—that?”
“It’s work,” the man said lazily.
Bei Ci made an “oh” sound: “Your work scope is quite broad, huh?”
“Mm-hmm,” Shan Chong couldn’t be bothered to explain, “Need money.”
Bei Ci’s students had already gone down the slope, and he was standing at the top looking back at them. He didn’t have time to ask what Shan Chong wanted to do in the city, so he hung up and sent him a link to download the app directly.
On Shan Chong’s end, after receiving the link, he studied it for a moment. How to put it… It was his first time downloading an app from outside the App Store. The download method was clearly not through Apple’s official channels—first download one app, then grant authorization, then download another app within that app—
It felt like a set of Russian nesting dolls, full of an irregular, almost illicit flavor.
Finally getting the app set up and opened, the man raised an eyebrow as the page loaded…
It was nothing.
He just realized this was indeed the home of the “Gym Diary” he had accidentally glimpsed his girlfriend reading before. The pink color scheme looked very familiar.
Moreover, “Gym Diary” was floating on the homepage rankings, seemingly quite popular.
He moved his finger, intending to go straight to the search bar to look for that Nerdy author, when suddenly his gaze caught the top recommendation on the app’s homepage—
[The apex predator Nerdy’s new work takes flight, serialization in full swing! “18 Poses of Otherworldly Cultivation”, cultivator, how many poses have you mastered?]
Shan Chong: “…”
What terrible ad copy.
Unbelievable.
One of Shan Chong’s strengths was his quick recognition of people and good memory. In an instant, he recognized the art style of the character drawn in the ad as belonging to the manga and author he was looking for, so he clicked in to take a look.
The manga was indeed popular, with over a hundred thousand comments below, all saying things like—
Go, male lead, go! Strip!
Wow, it’s been so sweet lately!!!
Lick lick, I want to see licking!
Aww, too bad the second male lead isn’t here, I want to see a threesome!
Shan Chong: “…”
This was the second time today Shan Chong had been stunned.
His paternal instincts kicking in, he decided to uninstall this app from his girlfriend’s phone once he woke up later.
Ignoring the manga itself, he searched for a while before finding the author’s column and guest room. Clicking in and scrolling down, he finally found the manga he was looking for among her long list of short and long works.
“A Day in the Snow Country.”
At the top of the manga page, it said, “Due to the overly pure content of this manga, the editor has notified that it will be moved to a sister app today. Dear fans, remember to follow it there!”
Shan Chong stared at the words “overly pure content,” thinking, “Thank you, author.”
Skipping the cover and scrolling down, the comment section was still quite chaotic—
Fan 1: Sports theme is great, so when are the male lead, second male lead, and female lead going to roll in the sheets?
Fan 2: Sports theme is wonderful, so the male lead, second male lead, and female lead just train on the big air jump every day without rolling in the sheets?
Fan 3: Yo, insider here, relevant interests, anonymous. I think the male and female leads can’t roll in the sheets for now, the male lead has broken his back before, so he’s not up for it.
The man chuckled, thinking that the author seemed to know a bit about snowboard big air.
As he was pondering this, he suddenly felt something wasn’t quite right.
He paused, slowly narrowed his eyes, and swiped back to the cover page.
Then he saw the manga cover he had directly ignored earlier—
A white safety helmet, a hoodie, a yellow Burton Custom new model snowboard. In the center of the image, a man with an incredibly handsome manga face rested his chin on one hand, lazily lowering his eyes, crouching at the top of a snow-covered terrain park feature.
Shan Chong’s ability to recognize people was truly strong.
So, he couldn’t be expected not to recognize the face he saw in the mirror every day.
“…”
The man put down his phone.
By now, most of his sleepiness had dissipated.
He sat up, reached for the bedside table, found the cigarettes Bei Ci had left there, took one out and lit it, bringing it to his lips—
It had been a long time since he’d smoked.
But right now, he really needed it, to calm his nerves.
With the cigarette dangling from his lips, the man stared unfocused at the empty room, lost in thought…
In the flickering ember, the tobacco at his lips curled slightly from the pressure of his teeth, wisps of white smoke coiling around him.
After a long while, the man sitting alone on the bed removed the cigarette and decisively extinguished it. With a satisfying “tss” as the cigarette went out, he suddenly let out an absurd chuckle.
His lips curved into a smirk.
“Wei Zhi, your readers are calling for us to roll in the sheets.”