For a moment, Shan Chong felt as if he had committed some terrible sin. The earlier pride of “she’s my daughter” when Shan Xinyue mastered the backside push in three seconds and leaf-floating in three minutes vanished instantly—completely disappeared without a trace.
He was utterly confused. Why? Why did this happen? Why did everyone he taught to push end up staring at carving with gleaming eyes? Was there something wrong with his aura? Or was he naturally cursed when it came to skiing? Wasn’t the park appealing? Didn’t the jump look impressive enough? Wasn’t spinning and flipping in the air exciting?
Shan Chong pondered endlessly, unable to find an answer. Meanwhile, Wei Zhi also realized the striking similarity of this scene to past events. She sighed, patting her daughter’s head, and said, “You’re truly Mommy’s good girl.”
Shan Chong retorted, “Indeed, she’s just like you when it comes to annoying me.”
Wei Zhi replied, “At least she’s interested in skiing—right, Xiaoman? Isn’t skiing fun?”
Shan Xinyue remained silent, wrapping her arms around her mother’s legs and looking up with wide, blinking eyes. As if determined to irritate her father further, she asked, “Mommy, can I ski as well as you someday?”
Before Wei Zhi could answer, Shan Chong quickly interjected, “Forget about not liking skiing and wanting to do something else. I’m now considering sending her to play football, which wouldn’t be as infuriating.”
Wei Zhi was speechless.
Shan Chong continued, “Next time, we’re going to the advanced B slope.”
Wei Zhi asked, “What for?”
“Nothing special,” Shan Chong replied nonchalantly. “Just to show Xiaoman that there’s more to do on skis than just bouncing around on the slopes.”
The atmosphere at that moment was… well, Wei Zhi felt that if she dared to say “no,” the so-called “God of Snowboard Big Air” might throw himself on the ground and start rolling right there.
Wei Zhi gently reminded him, “Xiaoman can’t learn big air jumps now.”
Shan Chong glanced at her, “I’m not crazy.”
Wei Zhi had just begun to feel relieved when he added, “She’ll be ready by next snow season.”
Wei Zhi was stunned.
Shan Chong continued, “What are you looking at? She’ll be in kindergarten by then, won’t she?”
Wei Zhi retorted, “Do you have some misunderstanding about kindergarten? Their sports days still involve picking up marbles with chopsticks. You want your daughter to fly dozens of meters off a big air jump on skis?”
Shan Chong scoffed.
Wei Zhi started, “See, you also think—”
Shan Chong interrupted, “What are you talking about? Of course, she’ll start with small jumps… Big air jumps will be for when she’s in the senior year of kindergarten, right?”
Wei Zhi was speechless once again. She took her daughter’s hand and protectively pulled her close, as if shielding her precious only child—carried for ten months and born through immense effort—from danger. She stared at her husband with a look reserved for encountering aliens.
Shan Chong asked, “What are you looking at?”
“If you met a madman on the street, you’d look at him before walking away—” Wei Zhi said as she held her daughter’s hand. “And now, I’m walking away… Come on, Xiaoman, don’t mind your daddy. What did you learn while Mommy was away?”
Shan Chong was left speechless.
The next hour unfolded like this:
Wei Zhi patiently taught her daughter the theory—board twisting, line of sight, toe lifting—bending down tirelessly.
Shan Chong followed behind, holding the learning harness rope with one hand and keeping the other behind his back. His backside push was as smooth as a new snow groomer, his posture perfect but lacking warmth.
Occasionally, Wei Zhi would look up or glance back at him.
The man would nod, indicating his approval of her instructions, and she would discreetly lower her eyes to continue explaining the techniques.
By the end of the run, Wei Zhi was parched from talking.
Despite the short three-kilometer slope, Shan Xinyue had already mastered the backside leaf-floating technique, switching between left and right with such ease that it was hard to tell which was her natural stance.
As they reached the lower part of the slope, Wei Zhi held her daughter’s small hand, attempting to teach her the front-side technique.
“Kneel a bit. Can you feel your shin pressing against the boot tongue? It’s different from regular shoes, isn’t it? Don’t push with your toes; don’t secretly lift your toes. That’s too tiring, isn’t it?” Wei Zhi explained patiently.
As they continued skiing, she suddenly realized it had become too quiet behind them.
Turning around, she saw her husband standing on a small hill in the distance, watching them. It was as if he had been waiting for the mother and daughter to look back. He positioned his board straight, gained speed, and then, right there on the slope, performed a spontaneous flip in the air—
Just like that, he flipped.
On that small hill, they watched him suddenly gain speed and flip, with snow clinging to his board—
In the bright sunlight, they could see him accelerate, flip, and the snow on his board tail scattering in mid-air!
With a “thud,” he landed steadily, amazing the beginners practicing on the novice slope.
The novices, not recognizing Shan Chong, stared at him in awe, their mouths agape…
What was this guy up to?
While practicing with his daughter, he handed the harness rope to Wei Zhi, claiming the height difference was too great and bending over hurt his back.
So the child-minding task fell to Wei Zhi, and he was free—free to do what? He had been waiting for this moment.
Wei Zhi didn’t bother to comment on how vividly the phrase “men are boys until they die” illustrated the problem of “men never growing up.” She squeezed her daughter’s soft palm and said, “Your dad’s showing off.”
Shan Xinyue responded with a confused “Oh.”
“Don’t just say ‘oh.’ When he looks over, you applaud. Clap even harder than when you praised Mommy earlier.”
The man made a few turns down the slope, approaching them with increasing speed. He glided past like a cool black lightning bolt—
As he skied several meters away, accompanied by Wei Zhi’s whispered command to “applaud” that only she and Shan Xinyue could hear, the little girl began clapping enthusiastically. Simultaneously, the man performed a sharp front-side stop, turning just in time to witness this scene:
Not far behind him, two familiar figures—one tall, one small—stood by the slope. Two identical almond-shaped eyes peered through matching pink-tinted snow goggles, gazing at him brightly and in unison.
He tapped his snowboard.
Finally feeling a bit more satisfied.
Still trying to maintain an air of nonchalance.
“What are you looking at?” he said. “Just basic stuff.”
The two pairs of eyes quickly looked away.
Wei Zhi resumed her front-side push posture, holding her daughter’s hand. Shan Xinyue tilted her little head up and asked in a volume only the two of them could hear, “What was Daddy doing just now?”
“Peacocking,” Wei Zhi replied in a flat tone. “He was peacocking.”
“Then why did we have to clap?” “What do you mean ‘why’? Don’t you clap when you see a peacock spread its tail at the zoo?”
“…” Shan Xinyue seemed to half-understand. “Oh!”
“That’s right.”
Amidst the little one’s dawning comprehension, Wei Zhi nodded, as if to emphasize her point, and said matter-of-factly—
“That’s exactly right.”
…
During the second queue for the cable car, the sun hid behind clouds. Winter weather changed abruptly, and moderate snow began to fall.
The fog thickened, and by the time they reached the mountaintop, it had turned into heavy snowfall. Such weather usually meant low visibility. Adults and experienced skiers might enjoy the powder snow conditions off-piste…
But with Shan Xinyue in tow, fearing she might collide with someone, they naturally decided to take her down the advanced B slope.
The advanced B slope was steeper and narrower than their previous run. This time, Shan Chong didn’t lag. He let Wei Zhi lead, with Shan Xinyue following her—
He brought up the rear.
It was as if he was guarding a pass that ten thousand men couldn’t break through; no one would get past him to touch his wife or daughter.
Holding the guide rope with one hand, he watched Shan Xinyue stumble as she learned the front-side technique. He wasn’t as harsh as he used to be, just lowering his eyes and occasionally muttering, “Don’t stick your butt out,” “Look up at me,” “Your mom’s right there, don’t turn back to look for her”…
Front-side pushing was much more tiring than backside.
Soon, Shan Xinyue grew impatient. After another front-side push, she suddenly lunged forward without warning!
Given that she showed no signs of falling a second earlier, Shan Chong was caught off guard. He felt a soft, heavy mass land on his ski boot, hugging his calf—
“Waa, Daddy!” The little one abandoned her northeastern accent, adopting her mother’s whiny high-pitched tone perfectly. “My legs are gonna fall off! I’m so tired! Skiing is so tiring! Carry me! Carry me!”
As she spoke, she clung to his leg, looking up at him with pleading eyes…
A minute later.
Through the thick fog, Wei Zhi heard the loud sound of ski edges scraping against snow. The black silhouette that had been accompanying their daughter behind her gradually approached through the mist, becoming clearer…
One hand held a child’s ski.
On the other arm sat a little purple rabbit.
The little rabbit hugged his neck, feeling completely secure, her short legs dangling and kicking against his abdomen.
“Stop moving.”
“Daddy, spin around again! One more time! Like before!”
“No more spinning, your mom’s watching—”
“Don’t be afraid, if she scolds you, I’ll defend you!”
“You’re no help at all.”
Amidst the father-daughter banter, all that remained was Shan Xinyue’s gleeful laughter.
…
At this moment, the mountain-top snow park came into view—
After all, it was a park.
Those who could enter the park surely had mastered basic skiing techniques, able to control turns and speed. As long as they didn’t stand near large terrain features or takeoff and landing points, they wouldn’t be in the way.
This year, the mountain-top snow park had added a new halfpipe.
Unlike regular jumps, rails, or tubes, a resort that builds a halfpipe shows some ambition for its park…
Why?
Of course, it’s because the halfpipe’s unique shape demands extremely high standards for angles and smoothness. It’s difficult to build, hard to repair, and requires frequent maintenance.
Everyone was excited about this new terrain feature. After all, like basketball shoes, nothing works better than when it’s new, so they all rushed to try it out—
As a result, the mountain-top snow park seemed even livelier than the previous snow season.
When Shan Chong entered the park, the fog was thick, and no one noticed his arrival.
Near the halfpipe, a slender figure in a one-piece suit with “Rampage” written in flowing calligraphy on the back leaped out from the edge of the halfpipe—
In a perfect parabola, he grabbed his board, flipped, and spun three times. His waist adorned with a dramatically fluttering red triangular scarf, he performed a frontside rodeo 1080°, landing solidly!
With a loud “thud,” accompanied by cheers of “Wow!” “Awesome!” “Ci-ge is sharp!” “Nice one, how about a 1440°? Show us what the ceiling looks like!” from around the halfpipe, the snowboard with its black base landed on the pipe wall!
Riding the snowboard, wearing goggles but no face mask, looking cool and composed, the man in the “Rampage” suit easily ascended the opposite wall of the pipe…
This time, it was a frontside rodeo 1440°.
The cheers from the crowd nearly tore through the thick fog enveloping the small mountain-top snow park—
The atmosphere easily affected other onlookers.
Even if this “onlooker” was only three years old.
Mommy had said to clap when you see someone flip or spin.
This time, without Wei Zhi’s prompting, Shan Xinyue, sitting in her father’s arms, began to clap enthusiastically.
As she was clapping with gusto, squinting to find Wei Zhi and expecting praise, she heard her father’s voice from above: “Was that good?”
How could it not be good?
Even circus high-wire acts didn’t have so many tricks.
It had to be good.
Shan Xinyue nodded honestly.
Unexpectedly, the next moment, she heard the person who had asked her say calmly, “You liked it? Good. This afternoon, you’ll play with this impressive uncle.”
Shan Xinyue: “Huh?”
Shan Chong: “His name is Backstab.”
Shan Xinyue: “What?”
Shan Chong: “It’s decided.”
Shan Xinyue: “Why?”
Shan Chong: “Daddy needs to take Mommy to play.”
Shan Xinyue: “What about me?”
Shan Chong: “Shan Xiaoman, you’re three years old, right?”
Shan Xinyue: “So what if I’m three?”
Shan Chong: “You’re a big girl now—”
Shan Xinyue didn’t understand much, but she felt that usually when her dad said “You’re a big girl now,” it wasn’t followed by anything good.
Shan Chong: “You should understand that sometimes Daddy and Mommy need to play together, and can’t bring you… You need to learn not to always cling to your mom. Consider it preparation for kindergarten next year.”
Shan Xinyue: “I understand perfectly.”
Shan Chong: “You understand?”
Shan Xinyue: “You think I’m getting in the way of you being with Mom, right?”
Shan Chong: “…”
Shan Xinyue: “Am I right?”
Shan Chong seriously considered for three minutes whether he should argue with his daughter about Wei Zhi’s ownership while standing on the ski slope at the park entrance…
After three minutes, he knew how to put it tactfully yet clearly, and chose honesty.
Shan Chong: “Yes.”
Shan Chong: “Please cooperate.”