If possible, Beijiao wouldn’t have asked like this either.
He was quite confident about his good looks, mainly because he had heard people complimenting him since childhood until he was sick of it—
But no one had ever said his best buddy looked handsome. Or had they?
Zhang Liang did love squeezing into the bathroom to brush his teeth while he showered. He had seen him a couple of times, always giving a thumbs-up after a few “tsk tsk” sounds, but that was just praise for his best friend’s strong physique, meeting the standard, nothing more.
This time, after asking, he shut up, anxiously staring at Jiang Ran’s lips, not knowing what to do if she said she wasn’t satisfied—chopping it off wouldn’t make it regrow prettier anyway—
About ten seconds of silence passed.
His patience surprised even Jiang Ran. The alcohol made her head spin and her mind hazy. To avoid misunderstanding him, she had to confirm with him: “What’s wrong? Suddenly going quiet like this—don’t tell me you’re seriously waiting for my answer and evaluation?”
No evaluation means no liking.
No evaluation means no liking.
No evaluation means no liking. Important words thrice.
He turned his head away. Under the gloomy night sky with the moonlight obscured by clouds, she could only see his profile under the dim light of the washbasin.
The boy pressed his lips together, clearly unhappy, staring at a bald tree in the corner, his voice sounding lifeless: “Never mind, if you don’t want to say anything, just forget it.”
“…”
He even sounded wronged. What was he wronged about?
Was she supposed to praise him now for being “pure in both mind and body,” making even his best friend shine with holy radiance at this moment?
She must really be drunk.
Otherwise, on such a freezing cold day with heavy snowfall, why wouldn’t she go back to the warm room but stand calmly in the snow, discussing with her Cinderella junior about how she wasn’t dissatisfied with his certain important organ—she just simply…
Didn’t see it.
“I didn’t see anything.”
Sighing, she thought her words were sincere enough.
So when Beijiao blinked and reluctantly said “Okay,” she felt an urge to punch someone.
“Can you not act so weird? It was so dark, I really didn’t see anything.” Jiang Ran honestly said, “And you had your back to me. I was just standing outside the door. When I opened it and found Qiu Nian wasn’t inside, I closed the door and stepped back.”
Her words were very euphemistic. Actually, she slammed the door shut and fled.
Luckily, he was considerate enough not to hold it against her.
His gaze, previously fixed on the bald tree, returned to her. Like a young girl, he shuffled his feet on the ground and asked, “Then why did you open the bathroom door where I was inside to look for Qiu Nian?”
Wasn’t that strange behavior?
“Do you know Qiu Nian?”
“No.”
She had only seen her videos—just another skiing influencer whose videos she and Lin Shuang had passed by countless times. She remembered her by her hairstyle, and now she knew her name through him, that’s all.
“…”
Before this, Jiang Ran only knew Beijiao had somehow heard about Lin Shuang, but she didn’t know he had watched many of her old videos. Now she instinctively felt something was off: “If you don’t know her, how did you know I was looking for a person?”
“Could it be a dog?” He asked expressionlessly, “Whatever it was, you were in a hurry back then, weren’t you?”
“Huh?”
“You thought I would do something to her?”
Suddenly, he started focusing on the details.
His sudden cleverness caught Jiang Ran off guard. This time, she was genuinely a bit uneasy and hesitated as she said, “You were taking too long, I was worried about you—”
Beijiao snorted coldly: “Worried about me or worried about Qiu Nian? Worried I might do something to her?”
He suddenly started nitpicking.
After saying that, he looked completely satisfied as he saw a hint of guilt on Jiang Ran’s face.
He stared at her expression for three seconds.
It would be a lie to say he had done nothing at all—he had at least verbally threatened her.
So Beijiao didn’t push further, instead taking a deep breath and saying indifferently, “Forget it, think whatever you want… I won’t hold it against you.”
He paused, then added, “It’s really cold outside, let’s go back.”
After saying that, he stood there waiting for her.
Jiang Ran didn’t expect him to be so agreeable today, assuming he was just in a good mood, and started walking forward—
But standing still for too long had frozen her knees stiff. Her foot slipped slightly, and her knees buckled as she staggered forward.
Lifting her head, she saw his hand naturally extended toward her, right in front of her nose.
Palm up, during the waiting, snowflakes had landed on his hand and quickly melted.
“Don’t want it?” He hummed from deep in his nose, asking.
After hesitating for three seconds, she placed her icy fingertips into his palm.
Beijiao had kept his hands in his pockets before, so his palm still retained warmth. He curled his fingers, enclosing her frozen hand and the falling snowflakes together.
Turning his head, he held her hand and walked toward the warm, lively restaurant door just a door away.
…
The next day, Jiang Ran was still holding her forehead, paying for yesterday’s one glass of baijiu and several bottles of beer. Someone knocked on the door from outside.
The little pup came rushing in with his snowboard, hiding from the Song siblings like they were plague carriers—
These two days, Song Yan had been taught by Song Die.
It was said that Song Die first taught the basics, like how to get up after falling, then taught a backside push slope, but then he ran off.
He would compete with Beijiao, skiing a couple of rounds, then Song Yan would send him a message saying she had learned the backside leaf turn, so he would go back to teach her that, then run off again.
This went on repeatedly.
Needless to say, Song Yan was also strong-willed. Despite all this, she bravely fell all day and learned the basics of frontside and backside, and today she could start learning edge transitions.
From beginning to end, Beijiao insisted he wouldn’t teach, not even willing to sit in the same row as her in the car. He could be said to have written his dislike on his face.
Right now, he was sitting in Jiang Ran’s room, not urging her to catch the first bus to the ski field. He just sat there watching her walk around the room procrastinating—
But wherever she went, his eyes followed, his gaze intense.
It made Jiang Ran feel uncomfortable, unable to procrastinate anymore: “If you’re impatient, just go ahead. I have a headache and really can’t ski today!”
… “Hangover can’t ski” should be the most commonly used excuse for failing to get up early in the skiing circle.
Beijiao didn’t know all this. He hugged his board, resting his chin on the backplate of the binding, looking unusually obedient and clingy: “You can go now and come back early. The snow is good in the morning, don’t waste it… If you’re tired, just ski until noon and come back.”
Jiang Ran found it reasonable. Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes and pitiful look, she barely managed to pull herself up and followed him.
But then?
With a headache, she spent the entire morning with these pups, not only getting angry at their various bad habits that they couldn’t seem to fix, but also shouting at them to remind them of proper techniques…
By noon, she was completely exhausted.
Jiang Ran planned to go back to sleep after lunch, but unexpectedly, Beijiao, while poking at his lunch bowl, suddenly said: “I heard them talking while I was in the bathroom just now—the Sunset Trail is opening this afternoon.”
General Mountain Ski Resort’s Sunset Trail, known as one of the most beautiful sunset spots in the country, is hailed as a “must-see sunset.” Every time it appears under the title on the Xiaohongshu APP, it’s followed by a sea of comments: “Disband, disband! We asked, the best viewing point is on the mid-mountain slope. If you can’t ski, you have no chance to get there!”
Sunset Trail is actually a very gentle slope, with just a slight incline. It’s said that you need to know how to ski to qualify to come here, probably because half-skilled skiers might easily get stuck due to the flatness of the trail…
It’s a rare opportunity.
As for the breathtaking sunset, Jiang Ran had already seen it for several years. Considering that Song Die and Beijiao had never been to that trail, she softened her heart, gritted her teeth, and stayed with them until the afternoon sunset.
Riding the evening breeze of General Mountain at sunset, Jiang Ran slowly glided forward.
Her reflection stretched long on the snow. Not far away, clouds rolled across the sky, the last rays of the setting sun hidden behind the clouds, orange light piercing through the clouds and shining onto the snowy trail.
The snowboard made a soft rustling sound as it rubbed against the snow, and besides the sound of the mountain wind blowing, the quiet yet dynamic environment easily allowed one to appreciate the charm of skiing, an extreme sport—
As the snowboard glided over the snow, accompanied by the wind brushing past her ears.
Squinting slightly, surrounded by such a romantic scene, she was unromantically thinking about how her “early return” had turned into “pushing through the door to get in and out,” and her so-called beloved apprentice was indeed a Wall Street fraud—
Just as she was mentally cursing, she suddenly noticed the shadow on the ground and realized the posture of the boy following her was a bit off.
She slowly turned her head and saw the boy following behind her, his phone pointed directly at her.
Jiang Ran: “?”
Jiang Ran: “What are you doing?”
Beijiao calmly lowered his phone: “Recording a clip for you. Don’t want it?”
Jiang Ran: “Oh.”
When they reached the bottom of the mountain, Jiang Ran asked Beijiao for the video, but he put his phone into his pocket: “Didn’t record well, my hand was shaky, so I deleted it.”
“… I thought so. With your skills, making it safely all the way down that gentle slope is already a miracle. Why bother with this extra stuff.”
Jiang Ran casually replied, not taking the matter seriously.
Beijiao unusually didn’t argue with her.
On the way back in the car, in the back seat where women couldn’t see, he sneaked into the WeChat settings like a thief, changing the chat background image—
From the original system default mode to another picture.
In the picture, there were clouds, sunset, golden sunlight on the mountains, and the snow surface dyed orange by the sunset.
In the distance, under the setting sun, the woman’s long hair gently floated with the mountain breeze. She slightly turned her face, looking at the clouds not far away. Only a small part of her delicate nose and bright, radiant eyes could be seen.
Actually, it would be more suitable as a lock screen wallpaper.
He hesitated and struggled for ten minutes.
Looking at the woman in front, slouching in her seat, her head almost hanging off the armrest, swaying weakly and listlessly, she suddenly turned her head: “What’s wrong?”
He was startled, quickly covering his phone on his chest, repeating like a parrot: “What’s wrong?”
Jiang Ran stared at him expressionlessly: “Your anxious atmosphere back there reached me. Did I not serve you well enough today, Your Majesty?”
“…”
Look at that.
With such a strong, pungent style.
How could he dare to put her photo on the lock screen openly?
If one day she saw it and got angry, she might even twist his head off.
…
Jiang Ran was genuinely exhausted.
The fatigue of this day made her bedridden the next day.
Opening her eyes, she doubted her life—was she here to ski or to undergo military training?
No matter how Beijiao pulled or mocked, “Is this all the stamina you’ve got?” Jiang Ran firmly hugged her quilt and stayed in bed, not even willing to get up to comb her hair.
With no choice, after trying to persuade her for half an hour, Beijiao had no choice but to reluctantly team up with the Song siblings and head to the ski resort alone.
This was already his third day at the outdoor ski field. After skiing through General Mountain Ski Resort’s carving paradise, because the slopes were wide, long, and efficient, Beijiao progressed rapidly every day. He couldn’t help but exclaim: Guangzhou Sunac probably couldn’t be returned to, that place where on average ten people sit on a cable car ride, pah!
The more he thought like this, the more reluctant he was to leave.
After lunch, Song Die also felt tired and wanted to go back early. Beijiao still had plenty of energy and was ready to ski until the end of the world. Thus, he sarcastically sent off Song Die and took the cable car to the slopes by himself.
On the cable car, he was still thinking about a small movement he might need to change.
After getting off the cable car, he met Song Yan and a group of people he didn’t know.
Frowning in displeasure, he was preparing to avoid them, but had only taken a couple of steps when Song Yan called out to him.
He turned back impatiently, his tone very rude: “What?”
“We’re going to ski at the Wolf Ravine!” Song Yan, hugging her board, looked excited, “It snowed the day before yesterday. My friends say the snow at Wolf Ravine is really thick now, perfect for off-piste skiing! We can go down the mountain from the back and walk a short distance to get back to the shuttle bus stop. Do you want to come?”
Wolf Ravine is located at the back of General Mountain Ski Resort. In the summer, it’s just a mountain ravine. It’s said that wild wolves come out at night, so the local villagers named it Wolf Ravine.
Beijiao had heard about it from the driver when he came here. Because on the first day, Song Die had once skied off-piste—so-called off-piste skiing refers to skiing on untouched natural snow outside the ski resort’s protective net.
Song Die had skied off-piste once and thought it was quite interesting. He also heard that Xinjiang was a holy land for off-piste skiing, so he asked if there were any nearby places to ski off-piste.
At that time, the driver had mentioned Wolf Ravine in passing.
Actually, Beijiao was quite interested. He had never skied off-piste before—after hearing from Song Die on the first day, he had lifted the net and peeked out, but that one look had been enough for Jiang Ran to grab him by the neck and drag him back.
But looking at Song Yan in front of him and the group of strangers behind her, whom he didn’t know and had no idea where she had met them, his interest immediately waned, and he said: “No.”
He paused for a moment, then asked Song Yan: “You’re going to ski off-piste?”
Can you even ski, going off-piste? Are you tired of living?
“Ahh, my friends said, if you can switch edges, you can ski!” Song Yan pointed to the people behind her, “I can switch edges now! I just want to go and see. Even if I can’t go down, I can just sit on my board and slide down!”
Beijiao looked up in the direction she pointed, watching a group of people nearby whispering to each other. One of them caught his gaze and smiled at him.
“I know you,” the man said. “You’re the one using BC’s RX, rides switch, tall guy… You’re Jiang Ran’s apprentice.”
Beijiao didn’t even bother to offer a polite smile behind his face mask.
“Jiang Ran didn’t come today. Why don’t you come play with us? What’s the fun playing with little girls all the time? We’re all experienced here, been riding Wild Wolf Gully for years! It’s only one in the afternoon, plenty of time before dark! We can even dig out Wild Wolf Gully if needed!”
The man persuaded him. The surrounding people laughed heartily at his colorful descriptions.
Listening to their conversation, Beijiao felt something was off—phrases like “no worries, if you really break something, we’ll just call the rescue team,” “I brought a satellite GPS,” and “let’s hurry, I heard it’s going to snow tonight and the weather will be bad”…
Teenagers in their late teens or early twenties, always looking for ways to push the boundaries of school rules while studying. Asking them to behave properly was indeed asking too much.
Beijiao frowned. He was tempted to try the ungroomed snow, yet conflicted about joining this group.
As he hesitated, someone suddenly patted his shoulder from behind.
He turned around and, thanks to his height advantage, first saw two fuzzy black cat ears swaying in front of his eyes. Startled, he looked down and met the gaze of the woman wearing a helmet with cat ears attached.
“I’d advise you not to go,” Qiu Nian, who had appeared from somewhere, said. She was holding a Gray Mach board, apparently preparing to practice flatland tricks. Her tone was cold. “Those people can’t be anything good. I heard everything from behind. Taking a girl who just learned how to carve to ride ungroomed snow in the mountains—”
“Where did you come from again?” Beijiao asked.
“You don’t need to know where I came from! I’m just trying to help!” Qiu Nian yanked down her face mask, as if afraid he couldn’t see her clearly. “If Jiang Ran finds out, you’ll be begging on your knees, and even that might not save you…”
“Do you know her well?”
“Not really.”
“Then why did you get her drunk the day before yesterday? If she hadn’t been hungover today, she wouldn’t have had an excuse to stay in bed,” Beijiao asked.
Hearing this, Qiu Nian actually chuckled, covering her mouth and saying, “That’s just how she is.” Suddenly, as if remembering something, she stopped herself, and the smile vanished from her face.
“Listen to advice and you’ll have a full stomach,” she said expressionlessly, looking up at Beijiao. “Heard of that?”
“After I was rude to you last time?”
“You even know you were rude last time?” She sounded surprised.
Beijiao didn’t feel like arguing with her. He lifted his eyelids indifferently. Initially wavering, he now felt rebellious after Qiu Nian’s persuasion.
Behind him, the group kept shouting and urging him, as if he had already agreed to go with them. Now they were holding their boards and waving at him, urging him to come over.
Someone lifted the protective net, and Song Yan was already strapping on her board, preparing to go off-piste.
Beijiao walked over, and one of the people took his board, pulling out a screwdriver from his pocket. “Let me adjust the binding direction. Riding switch won’t work well for ungroomed snow. Let’s set it to duck stance now, and you can switch it back tonight.”
At this point, everything seemed already decided.
Beijiao made the first wrong decision in his twenty years of life: following a group of strangers into Wild Wolf Gully.
…
Wild Wolf Gully, in winter, was actually a wide, flat slope. Standing at the summit, one could easily see the road at the bottom of the mountain, making it unlikely to get lost.
Standing on the mountain, Beijiao could already see several tracks left by others who had slid down earlier that morning.
“Lean back a bit, don’t push off the slope… Watch for dark patches on the snow, they might be protruding rocks.” The man who adjusted Beijiao’s bindings seemed to be the group leader. “I saw you ride well, so you don’t need to worry about this bit of ungroomed snow.”
Indeed, there was no need to worry.
Ungroomed snow just had more resistance and softer snow quality. Carving was impossible, but there was a kind of joy in riding through the snowy wilderness like a ship cutting through waves.
Initially, Beijiao patiently followed the group down, but they were quite considerate, sliding three meters and then waiting for Song Yan, who kept falling, digging into the snow, struggling to get up, getting tired, not knowing how to ride, or screaming.
Beijiao grew impatient and quickly slid ahead, reaching halfway down the hill by himself.
As he was about to reach the bottom, he suddenly hesitated, realizing it might not be appropriate to leave Song Yan alone in the wilderness with a group of strangers he didn’t know.
He tried to brake, intending to look back.
At that moment, he forgot he was on ungroomed snow, not a groomed trail. He miscalculated his footing, and with one push, he heard a loud crack. He was thrown off his board, tumbling into the snow!
It didn’t hurt, but getting up was difficult.
Shaking snow off his head, he immediately saw what had tripped him—a huge rock hidden beneath the thick snow. He froze for a moment, a chill of fear running through him.
If he had hit a rock like that, he would have been seriously hurt.
Slowly getting up, he suddenly remembered something and flipped over to check the bottom of his snowboard. A deep scratch ran across it, the black paint peeled off, and the board core was frayed like shredded wood.
He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.
He felt a bit dazed.
…
By the time they got back down the mountain, it was almost completely dark.
Beijiao jumped off the vehicle, dragging his snowboard, not even bothering to look back at Song Yan, who was following behind, completely exhausted and legs trembling with fatigue. He hurried toward his room with slightly quickened steps.
Halfway there, he was called out.
The boy’s figure froze, realizing for the first time that he unusually didn’t want to hear this familiar voice.
Slowly turning around, he saw the familiar wooden cabin, and standing in front of it was a woman wearing a long dress, a puffy down jacket, and a fuzzy hat. She was dressed all in white, soft and fluffy, like the freshest dollop of cream on a cake.
“Why are you back so late?” She leaned against the wooden railing in front of the cabin. Jiang Ran asked, “Aren’t you hungry?”
Her tone was quite gentle, though tinged with a bit of guilt. After all, she had tricked her younger brother into coming to Xinjiang, left him alone on the mountain, and spent the entire day lying in bed herself…
She was a kindergarten teacher who clearly wasn’t doing a good job.
So her voice unconsciously softened.
Normally, upon hearing her speak like this, Beijiao would surely take the opportunity to complain a bit, maybe even sneak in a few affectionate gestures towards her.
Jiang Ran had already prepared herself for that kind of reaction.
Yet under the night sky, she saw the boy standing there motionless, like a quiet goose, only quickly glancing at her and saying, “Not really, I’m not that hungry.”
What was wrong with this distracted response?
Jiang Ran’s previously relaxed and gentle expression slightly faded. Without waiting for Beijiao to react, she had already descended the wooden steps and quickly approached him.
The familiar sweet fragrance reached her nose as she gently pinched his chin with her soft, delicate fingers, her warm breath brushing against his neck…
He swallowed hard.
“What’s wrong?” Jiang Ran examined his face from side to side. “Did you get hurt?”
She slightly furrowed her brow, her deep brown pupils no longer carrying their usual sleepy, cat-like laziness, but showing genuine concern.
Beijiao raised his hand and grasped her wrist.
Her slightly cold fingertips made her shiver, and she looked up at him, her lips, slightly pursed from nervousness, now very close.
“It’s nothing.”
His dark eyes lowered slightly, his gaze resting on her nose… his voice was hoarse, yet unusually soft.
“You’re standing here perfectly fine. What are you nervous about?”
“…”
Hearing him say that, she suddenly realized—
Right.
If he had really been injured, could he still be standing here, whole and even sprinting just moments ago?
She let out a soft “Oh,” relieved, took a step back, and released him.
The familiar presence that had surrounded him slightly receded, leaving only the gentle touch of her fingers under his chin lingering like a memory.
“I’m going to change clothes,” Beijiao nonchalantly shifted the board behind him. “I’ll come get you for dinner later.”
“Okay.”
She looked a bit dazed, staring at him with a somewhat confused nod.
Beijiao turned to leave.
He had just taken two steps when Jiang Ran called him again.
Wanting to leave quickly, he turned back, slightly impatiently asking, “What now?”
He saw her standing there cutely, her white, delicate finger pointing at the board in his hand: “Am I seeing things? Why did you change your bindings to duck stance?”
Beijiao: “…”
Shit.
…
What could a little dog possibly have in mind? He was just not a very good actor when it came to real trouble.
When Jiang Ran approached Beijiao, she could feel from a meter away that he had stiffened, almost like a frozen statue. Snow began to fall from the sky, landing on his long eyelashes, but he seemed completely unaware.
She raised both hands and took his snowboard from him.
The board was taller than her, and she struggled a bit to pull it out. She awkwardly propped the board upright on the open ground and bent down to take a look. “Hmm,” she murmured, “It really is set to duck stance. What for? Did some cult member on the slope convince you to change to duck stance for carving?”
Her slightly mocking tone suddenly stopped when she walked around to the bottom of the board.
Beijiao’s heart sank.
Jiang Ran stood on the side of the board’s base, staring at the deep scratch for a while, then reached out and touched it. The scratch was so deep that her fingertip could sink into it…
Even at the end of the snow season, even on the worst snow conditions filled with ice chips, as long as it was a groomed trail, it would be impossible to scratch the board’s base like this.
Plus, the bindings were changed to duck stance.
Jiang Ran had been skiing for so many years. She had seen and tried every kind of unconventional trick there was.
At this moment, she could probably guess what this board had been through, even with just her toes.
But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she lifted her head and looked at the boy in the distance—now he was like an ostrich, turning his head away, as if just avoiding her gaze would save him from a lecture.
“Where did you go this afternoon?”
She asked him, her voice slow, not even particularly stern.
Beijiao didn’t answer, but he did turn his head back, looking at her, his face showing inner conflict.
But what was he struggling with?
Jiang Ran couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.
Her eyes slightly curved, she smiled at him, picked up the heavy snowboard, returned to his side, handed it back to him, and casually patted his hand.
“Go change clothes,” she said calmly. “Get ready for dinner. I’m hungry.”
…
He had braced himself for a storm, but nothing happened.
When Beijiao went to his room to change, he was immersed in an unknown fear.
As he grabbed his clothes and pulled on a warm hoodie, he caught a glimpse of his pale face in the mirror. He paused, realizing—
Shit.
He would have preferred her scolding him. That smile from earlier was more chilling than anything.
At this time, Song Die was sitting at the table examining Beijiao’s damaged snowboard. Seemingly infected by the fearful atmosphere, he sighed: “Did you ride over rocks? How could you even ride onto rocks? Don’t you have eyes?”
Beijiao couldn’t be bothered to explain that he had been distracted because he was checking whether his precious little sister was still alive.
Not a single word worth saying.
He walked over and coldly slapped Song Die’s hand off his snowboard.
Song Die turned his face slightly and looked up at him, asking, “Did your sister see it? What was her reaction?”
Beijiao moved his lips, almost saying “None of your damn business,” but when the words reached his mouth, he found himself suddenly having completely lost the desire to speak…
Even scolding Song Die felt like too much effort.
The boy, expressionless, brushed past him, opened the door, and walked outside.
…
Dinner was still at the same restaurant. They had eaten there for three consecutive days, but the owner kept changing the menu, so it didn’t get boring.
Jiang Ran was holding a bowl, eating the braised fish in front of her very seriously, making no sound at all.
The fish was caught locally from the river, of an unknown species, with many bones. She ate slowly and elegantly, forming a sharp contrast with the noisy crowd behind her who were drinking and jumping around.
Beijiao ate his rice with some vegetables and a plate of fish-flavored shredded pork, finishing quickly and absentmindedly, as if the act of eating was not really related to food, but a necessary torment just to survive.
After finishing a big bowl of rice, he turned his head and noticed that Jiang Ran hadn’t touched her rice much. After hesitating for a moment, he changed the direction of his chopsticks and silently started removing the fish bones for her.
Jiang Ran lifted her eyelids and glanced at him once. Apparently understanding his intention, she gave up struggling with the fish and quietly waited with her bowl.
Jiang Ran was the kind of person who liked to be fed. His hands were much more skillful at removing fish bones than hers. He selected a large, intact piece of fish meat and placed it into her bowl. She nodded and said “Thank you,” then lowered her head and carefully ate the piece of fish.
Every few times he used his chopsticks, she politely said “Thank you”—
“…Don’t say thank you.”
He lowered his voice, his tone extremely hoarse.
“Okay,” Jiang Ran nodded. “Habit, sorry.”
“…”
Beijiao felt like he was being slowly executed.
He was so annoyed it was unbearable.
Song Yan also sensed the tense atmosphere. She looked from Beijiao to Jiang Ran. Whether it was out of real guilt or not, she bit her lower lip and switched to a pitiful tone: “Jiang Ran, don’t blame Beijiao. It was my idea to go to Wild Wolf Gully. It’s actually not dangerous. It’s just behind the mountain, and you can easily see the village below.”
Jiang Ran’s chopsticks hovered over the fish meat in the bowl, as if only just realizing someone else was sitting there. She lifted her eyelids slightly and said, “Do you think I’ve never been there?”
Song Yan bit her lower lip tightly.
Beijiao poked the fish eye with her chopsticks, expressionless, thinking: Just shut up. Why didn’t someone sew her mouth shut?
Just when everyone thought this terrible conversation was finally over, Song Yan unexpectedly continued, “I didn’t mean that. I just think it wasn’t that dangerous, and Beijiao could actually skate too. The truth is, he was skating just fine until he turned around to look at me—”
Beijiao’s temple throbbed violently. He couldn’t believe someone would pour oil on the fire at a moment like this.
What kind of green tea nonsense was that? He’d played that act himself when he was in a good mood.
Was this really the time to say something like that? Was this woman out of her mind?
This time, before Jiang Ran could speak, Beijiao turned his head first, looked at Song Yan expressionlessly, and said, “Shut up.”
It was harsh.
Beijiao usually treated Song Yan with sarcasm and disdain, but never before had he spoken to her with such obvious weariness.
Song Yan immediately stopped talking.
The atmosphere instantly grew stiff.
Just at that moment, the restaurant door was pushed open from outside.
The familiar trio entered, and without looking for any other empty seats, they unhesitatingly sat down right next to Jiang Ran’s group.
They sat down but didn’t order anything. Qiu Nian, with his annoying head, leaned over immediately, sensing the awkward and frozen atmosphere in the air.
“What’s going on? This funeral-like vibe—got caught already, huh?”
She didn’t acknowledge Jiang Ran, instead smirking at Beijiao.
“Didn’t I tell you so?”
After laughing, she turned her head and randomly picked the guy with floral tattoos as the lucky conversation target.
“Find it funny?”
Qiu Nian made no effort to lower her voice, loud enough for everyone at Jiang Ran’s table to hear. “Wanna guess what that person who was clinging to me yesterday, growling at me and trying to stop me from making Jiang Ran uncomfortable, did today?”
Beijiao was just picking up a piece of fish with his chopsticks when his hand trembled, causing the fish meat to fall apart completely.
The guy with the yellow hair laughed out loud, while the one with the floral tattoos remained expressionless and reached out to cover Qiu Nian’s mouth.
Song Die looked at Beijiao with unprecedented sympathy. His face might as well have said: I told you not to bite off more than you can chew and make enemies. Now look what’s happened—easily blown the counterattack horn.
But Beijiao didn’t even have time to care about him. He twisted his neck, almost to the breaking point, staring intently at the woman beside him—
But she refused to look at him.
Jiang Ran put down his chopsticks and bowl, saying, “I’m full. Call the boss to settle the bill.”
Suddenly, Beijiao understood what it truly meant to have a fish bone stuck in one’s throat.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage