Li Xingnan arrived at the finish line half a beat later. As he bent down to remove his skis and straightened back up, he immediately figured out what had happened. By then, however, a certain local dog had already vanished without a trace.
Li Xingnan stood alone at the finish line, looking around. At this moment, in the eyes of the crowd, he looked completely bewildered, clearly stunned by the rookie.
Three minutes later, the judging panel had reviewed the race footage again. The replay showed that a competitor under the ID “a local dog” had perfectly, completely, and textbook-style passed every single gate—without missing one.
The result was valid.
On the big screen in the open area, a green “√” appeared under the ID “a local dog,” indicating advancement to the next round. Beside it, under the ID “Weather Secondhand Car Market,” an “X” appeared instead.
As for Li Xingnan’s current feelings, he had only one thought: he wished he had taken the time to choose a better stage name when registering. Otherwise, he wouldn’t now be forced to display such a goofy ID on snowboarders’ group chat profiles.
Compared to Li Xingnan’s quiet acceptance, the audience couldn’t stay calm when the results were announced.
In fact, the stands had erupted—
“What the hell! What the hell was that! Did you see that? A rookie who’s only been skiing for three months beat Li Xingnan!”
“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming right now?”
“Li Xingnan got worse, waaah!”
“Someone call the national team, there’s still time to make it to the Beijing Winter Olympics!”
“…Or call 110, report a monster appeared here?”
“Did you see his pole touches just now? I thought only in double slalom training would someone dare to do that—”
“Who recorded it! Who recorded it!”
“There’s a half clip in the group!”
Minutes later, the dramatic moment had spread across all the carving groups online—
Nobody had captured the entire video, naturally, since no one would bother recording a race between mismatched competitors.
Most of the leaked clips were hastily recorded in the last three gates when people finally noticed something was off.
In the videos, “a local dog” moved fast and nimbly, his skiing as smooth as flowing water, as if he had a video speed-up filter.
Every group was flooded with “?” and “!”.
Everyone sighed again in the group chats, all thinking the same thing: “How the hell is this possible?!”
No one could figure it out.
Amidst the confusion, someone proposed a surprisingly plausible and constructive theory:
“This doesn’t look like the real local dog. I remember that dog is really tall. This person wore the dog’s snowsuit, but the figure… clearly looks like a girl? Could it be Jiang Ran?”
This speculation, absurd yet oddly reasonable, was soon echoed by someone in the stands who muttered, “Someone suspects it’s Jiang Ran,” instantly shifting the public opinion—
“If it’s Jiang Ran, it makes sense!”
“Oh right right right right! Jiang Ran! I almost forgot, isn’t that dog one of Jiang Ran’s apprentices? Did the master come to boost the apprentice’s reputation?”
“Boosting reputation at the expense of an old friend… poor Li Xingnan.”
“Oh, yeah, there’s no rule saying one person can only have one ID…”
“Why didn’t Jiang Ran just compete herself, hiding behind the apprentice’s avatar?”
“If it’s Jiang Ran, I can accept it.”
Amid the chatter, Huang Can—also known as Orange, the former close friend of Jiang Ran who had recently publicly insulted her and ended up crying himself—stood by the course, smoking casually.
He listened to the spectators behind him guessing, one after another saying, “If it’s Jiang Ran, I can accept it,” and almost laughed.
In fact, he did let out a lazy chuckle, interrupting them: “Save it. I’d rather it was the real dog… if it’s Jiang Ran, wouldn’t that be even scarier?”
“Scary how?” a passerby asked curiously.
“…Not surprising?”
Orange raised an eyebrow, thinking how naive these people were.
“Erche’s competition board speed data would have placed him in the top 32 of the men’s division at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics. That’s a result just measured a few days ago… Even if he’s retired, he’s never stopped training. His skill has always been there.”
He took the cigarette from his lips, extinguishing it in the nearby snow pile.
The cigarette hissed, releasing smoke, almost drowning out his quiet laugh.
“If that was Jiang Ran just now, think about how she could match Erche move for move. How fast would that be? Want to check how much slower the women’s average speed was compared to the men’s at the recent Pyeongchang Winter Olympics?”
Orange exhaled the last puff of white smoke from his lungs, slightly narrowing his eyes.
“And besides, if it really was her, she wasn’t even using her own board.”
Beijiao was so tall; his usual board was at least 5–8 cm longer than Jiang Ran’s.
Ski length is strictly chosen based on riding style, height, and weight—scientific criteria. Using an unsuitable board would result in reduced control and efficiency.
If Jiang Ran could achieve such a result using a board far from her usual fit and familiarity…
Then how terrifying would she be if she used equipment perfectly tailored to her standards?
Everyone present were seasoned carvers. With just a few words, Orange made them realize. The discussions stopped, replaced by silence.
Most carvers were male, and now they felt their male pride cracking, their dominance under threat.
“…Maybe we should call the General Administration of Sport,” someone stubbornly suggested.
“Whether it’s the men’s or women’s team, it’s still Team China, right? We want a gold medal in carving so badly we could cry, so we can finally rise and sing!”
…
While the outside world was cheering for the local dog competitor, the real dog himself was in the locker room…
…braiding his master’s hair.
“Tighter. When I was skiing halfway, I heard a ‘snap’ and thought the hairband broke and my braid would fly out from under my helmet. It scared me.”
While Beijiao braided her hair, Jiang Ran sat eating a taro bread, looking at her phone without lifting her head.
“I almost crashed into a pole because of that… If I hadn’t lost focus, I wouldn’t have caught up with Li Xingnan only at the third-to-last gate.”
Hearing this, Beijiao glanced at Jiang Ran’s phone screen. In the group chat she was reading, people were still flooding the chat with praise: “The local dog caught up with Li Xingnan at the third-to-last gate! Wowwwwwww!”
The difference between “only” and “already.”
He snorted.
As he grabbed her hair, he could feel every strand radiating her satisfaction. She was in a great mood, completely different from the hesitant, lost expression she had in that dim little cabin that day.
Since he met her, Beijiao had never seen her like this—
As if she had come alive.
On the course, her boldness and confidence were at maximum, even turning into arrogance.
She calmly enjoyed and accepted the praise and admiration others gave her, not feeling the slightest need to be humble. She simply loved seeing people praise her.
“Happy?” He asked lazily through his nose.
His long fingers combed through her previously braided but now slightly messy hair, picking up a strand to examine, then adjusting how the hair was fixed at the back of her head.
“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I stunned Li Xingnan.”
She smiled, slightly turning her head.
“You didn’t see it up close. At the end, he looked like someone had punched him with a sack.”
As she spoke, she seemed to recall the scene again, chuckling with bright almond eyes.
The boy lazily said, “You wanted to see him embarrassed? Then it was perfect when your hairband broke and your hair flew out. Isn’t that how it always goes in TV dramas? The heroine’s hat flies off, or her hairband snaps, and her long flowing hair dazzles everyone around her—”
“Oh, do you think Li Xingnan could have been so dazzled by my beauty today that he slipped and skied off the course after knowing me for five or six years without noticing me before?”
“…”
“You should watch some more recent dramas. Starting from the 1980s?”
She finished the bread in a few bites. With food in her stomach, Jiang Ran finally felt grounded. The nervousness before the race had calmed down, leaving only excitement.
Sitting on the bench, she wore her apprentice’s snowsuit. Because Beijiao was tall, the suit was oversized on her. To avoid suspicion, she had kicked off her ski boots and was carefully folding the pant legs. Beijiao’s pants were so long on her that the extra fabric could cover another section of her calves.
Her phone buzzed. Jiang Ran paused folding, leaned over to check, and said, “A lot of people are asking about you.”
“Hmm?”
“They want to sponsor you,” Jiang Ran replied, “My old sponsor BC even reached out. They said they were heartbroken your board got so damaged from your effort. They sincerely hope to sponsor your next board—”
Teasing him.
BC’s exact message was: “Sis Ran, you made us proud! (insert 80 characters of kissing sounds here) We’re adding one more sponsorship board slot this year. How about a new RX for your apprentice?”
Beijiao had just searched on his phone for “how to braid hair so it stays intact even if your head falls off,” and didn’t even look up.
“You didn’t even tell BC in advance that it was actually you skiing?”
“Later,” Jiang Ran put down her phone. “Don’t they recognize their own sponsored rider?”
This race didn’t prohibit using someone else’s ID. As long as there was no deception regarding sponsorship or fame after achieving the result, there was no moral issue.
She wore the disguise simply because she didn’t want to go public herself. Boosting the apprentice’s reputation meant nothing to her.
Beijiao wouldn’t stoop to claiming achievements that weren’t his. So he wasn’t interested in the sponsorship at all. Right now, all his attention was on the soft, long curls in his hands—
He finished braiding one strand, coiling it neatly at the back of Jiang Ran’s head, revealing a small section of her slender, pale neck…
He stared for a moment, thinking of a medieval princess with two dragons in her castle garden.
A sudden thought struck him. He turned her around by the shoulders.
The conversation suddenly stopped. The boy didn’t respond. Jiang Ran looked up, puzzled, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
The next second, he stretched out his long fingers, quickly brushing against her lips. She focused and saw a purple speck of taro paste on his fingertip…
Left there when she hastily ate the bread.
He naturally extended his tongue, licking the taro off his finger.
He smacked his lips, simply commenting, “Sweet.”
He looked so innocent.
For a moment, Jiang Ran almost thought he did it on purpose…
Standing before her, the boy wore only a dark blue thermal hoodie. Because of the scabbing wounds on his back, he wore nothing underneath, to avoid scraping the scabs.
The loose hoodie’s collar revealed a hint of the front of his collarbone, shadows forming a small black triangle.
She averted her gaze, slowly lowering her lashes, long eyelashes hiding the shadow in her eyes.
Calling him lazily “Kid,” she reached up, casually hooking the hoodie’s drawstring dangling in front of her. The dark string wrapped around her pale finger. She gently pulled, and he naturally leaned down with the force.
They remained silent, facing each other.
Jiang Ran curved her lips. Her dark brown eyes still carried the ambitious fire from the snowy battlefield outside, making the boy’s heart skip a beat. He remained expressionless, slightly tilting his head, “Hmm?”
She only smiled.
Her gaze moved from his eyes to his brow, then slowly down, passing his straight nose, slightly upturned tip, and sharply defined lips—
Pausing.
Beijiao heard his heartbeat drumming like war drums.
The trumpet of victory was about to sound.
Just then, the locker room door was suddenly twisted open from outside. Song Die hurried in: “Did you eat—”
Too much.
He couldn’t finish the last four words, because he saw the only two people in the locker room turn their heads. Master and apprentice both stared at him, expressionless.
Jiang Ran still held Beijiao’s hoodie drawstring in one hand.
Jiang Ran wore Beijiao’s snowsuit. The left pant leg was halfway rolled up, revealing green ski socks; the right pant leg was still hanging off the edge of the bench, a long strip of fabric.
She quickly let go of the string.
In one second, Beijiao had already killed Song Die three hundred times in his mind. Looking back at Jiang Ran, he was so angry he wanted to scream, “Can we restart?” Obviously not.
So he had to vent his anger on the unexpected visitor. Standing in the cold lounge where the previous intimate atmosphere had been completely shattered, the boy pointed at the person at the door, “He didn’t even recognize you, yet he claims to like you so much. It’s definitely fake! I told you so! Not a single word men say is trustworthy!”
“…”
Amidst the boy’s accusations, Jiang Ran sighed.
Her mind was surprisingly clear, seemingly indifferent to the near intimate moment just seconds ago. She turned around and gently explained to Song Die, “He didn’t eat Pigdada. Your bird figure still splits it fifty-fifty with him… The one competing is me.”
Song Die remained silent for three seconds before closing the door.
He clasped his hands behind his back, clicking the lock shut, “Sister, I want an RX too. You gave the last one to him, so this one should be mine.”
His tone sounded as if it was only natural, as if he was certain that Jiang Ran would win first place and thus receive the RX snowboard and limited edition stickers provided by BC as the first prize…
Jiang Ran had a bit of Cantonese heritage in her blood. How should one put it? At crucial moments, she simply liked to hear auspicious words.
Instantly forgetting that he hadn’t recognized her, her eyebrows arched slightly and she was about to say something when her mouth was suddenly covered from behind by someone’s hand.
“Why?” The brat behind her said, “Just because you didn’t recognize her?”
He was extremely resentful.
Helplessly, Jiang Ran pulled the hand covering her mouth away.
Seeing that she didn’t immediately refuse, Bei Jiao was shocked. He bent down and leaned forward to look at her face, confirming that there was no sign of resistance on her expression…
After a brief pause, he straightened up and muttered, “I suddenly feel it’s not good to let someone else compete under my name, even if it’s not for free sponsorship. What if someone comes looking for me for lessons in the future just because of the ‘champion of the friendly match’ title? That would be fraud—no, maybe I should compete myself in the following matches?”
As he spoke, he actually reached out to pull off the snow jacket Jiang Ran was wearing.
Jiang Ran was not surprised by this situation at all. Expressionless, she slapped the back of his hand, hearing him emit an extremely annoyed nasal sound before the mischievous hand retreated.
“He didn’t even recognize you and still got a snowboard as a reward. What about me, who has been working like an ox the entire time?”
He had braided her hair, so that’s how he became an ox.
“Oh, I’ll personally stick those beautiful limited edition stickers onto your board,” Jiang Ran said in a tone used to pacify a three-year-old, “How many do you want? Where should I stick them? How about covering the whole board?”
“…”
Bei Jiao resentfully braided all of Jiang Ran’s hair, after which she reached out to touch and looked in the mirror, satisfied with the result. She then put on her windproof face mask, goggles, and helmet.
To make herself look more robust, Jiang Ran also wore upper body armor, which broadened her shoulders significantly.
Fully equipped, from a distance, she indeed looked like a tall, slender youth—
Thanks to skiing being an extreme sport where, once you put on the helmet, goggles, and face mask, people are indistinguishable from each other even within a meter apart.
The break time was almost over. Jiang Ran left the lounge with Bei Jiao’s snowboard in her arms. As she walked to the door, she turned around and waved goodbye to the two youths inside—
At the same time, the two left behind stood and sat silently.
Neither was willing to acknowledge the other.
As Jiang Ran’s back gradually disappeared from view without looking back, Bei Jiao’s phone vibrated continuously in his hand. It was the members of the WeChat group, eagerly waiting: The competition is about to start again, has the big dog arrived yet?
Afraid the big dog would appear briefly and then never show up again.
Thus, Bei Jiao thought again about his previous fantasy. Now, a medieval princess, clad in armor, marched into battle to the cheers of the people, and the city gates were slowly pulled open—
“Looks good? If you really want to follow her, you can sign up for the competition too. It’s free,” Bei Jiao said.
Song Die didn’t know what he had done this time to provoke such hostility, as if he had swallowed gunpowder… He merely chuckled lightly, ignoring the mockery, “The reason I’m staying here is the same as yours.”
“What?”
“Refusing to go out and be a charity target for others to take advantage of.”
“…It’s you who’s giving away freebies. Guess why I have this injury on my back? If I personally compete, I might not even pass the first round, let alone you.”
“Oh. Didn’t you hear what the sister said? Our skills are evenly matched.”
“That’s the meanest thing she’s said today.”
“…”
In the courtyard beneath the castle, the two dragons left behind to guard the home by the princess once could have wreaked havoc, but now they were just domesticated pets…
At this moment, with nothing better to do,
they decided to create their own drama, such as fighting each other to the death over the unequal distribution of spoils the princess was about to bring back.
Meanwhile, the competition venue was already packed.
For most people, the meaning of coming to watch the competition today had already changed. Originally, they had indeed come with the official intention of the organizers, shouting the slogan of “communication and learning”…
But now, it had really changed.
Now it had become: Where’s the dog? I came to see the dog! Everyone else move aside!
Don’t blame the audience for not respecting the competitors; even the competitors themselves didn’t really want to compete anymore—
After the second round draw, the groups scheduled before the “earth dog” felt like they were just wasting time as obstacles;
the groups scheduled after the “earth dog” felt like they were just comparison groups destined to be outshined.
Only the one who drew the “earth dog” opponent had a complicated mood.
He found that when it was his turn to compete, his eyes couldn’t help but keep looking at the figure on the blue slope next to him. Standing at his own starting position, he couldn’t help but keep turning his head to look at the “earth dog” competitor—
Wearing a loose black snowsuit that seemed slightly oversized on him,
between the black face mask and goggles, only a small part of his nose peeked out, a perky little tip. Under the sunlight, his skin looked flawless, delicate to the point of near transparency…
He stood there daydreaming, seemingly already accustomed to the attention from those around him, lowering his head and playfully kicking at the snow at his feet with his gray ski boots.
“…”
He finally forced himself not to look at the “earth dog,” who was standing at the starting point, head down, kicking the snow around casually and completely relaxed—
Of course, the “earth dog” was relaxed.
Because the “earth dog” had just given the number one seed player a glorious send-off.
How glorious? As Li Xingnan’s sponsor, the Gray brand had updated a fresh short video app post on his behalf, the content roughly read:
【…………………………@Li Xingnan (second place) 「Candle」「Candle」Never thought there would be a day when @BC—Steam would be right in my face, next year your sponsored board count will decrease by one 「Smile」「Smile」】
The comments were flooded with “hahahahaha.”
Setting aside these details for now.
At this moment, the spectator stands beside the track were packed full of people—many who originally had no interest in today’s competition had heard that there was a big show happening in the parallel giant slalom and came to see the commotion.
Now, the area outside the protective net was filled with people three layers deep. On the inner staff access path closest to them, a young man with yellow hair was holding a GoPro in one hand and timing the race with the other, clearly already prepared.
Originally, there was no knockout round in the competition, so no official countdown timers were prepared. This time, it looked like they were going to time the “earth dog” manually.
When the host shouted, “Ready,” the slider, who was the opponent of the “earth dog,” thought sorrowfully: How should I slide in a way that doesn’t block the view and hinders others from appreciating the “earth dog’s” heroic figure?
The starting gun fired!
Before he could think further, he caught a glimpse of the black figure “whoosh” past him in his peripheral vision. In his ears was the heavy sound of the board’s edge “shua” scraping across the snow!
He was really fast!
That black figure almost became blurred in the snow dust. His speed was not affected at all by the poor snow conditions after the first round of competition, which were now full of grooves—
During the descent, his posture was extremely stable, barely showing any leg shaking caused by the uneven snow surface. Each turn was incredibly composed!
Under everyone’s gaze, all they could see was the “earth dog” hidden under the loose snowsuit, with his bent legs vaguely visible.
When carving on the front edge, his counter-arching was also excellent. His chest was almost touching his thigh, his body completely parallel to the board’s tip, so his body was tense like a twisted bow—
The snowsuit was folded to the extreme, vaguely revealing his slender body curves.
“Look at that counter-arch,” a spectator sighed, “I’ll show this to my students in class. This is carving, real carving. Don’t give me that slouched back and butt sticking out nonsense anymore—”
Another spectator chimed in, “If I say I think the way this big guy slides, faster than your mom’s unleashed wild dog, is even kind of elegant, am I sick in the head?”
A third spectator was stunned, “Hey, damn, I thought I was the only one who felt that way?”
“Hey, you guys are just blowing smoke—hasn’t anyone noticed that this round the earth dog seems slower than the last one?” someone in the crowd questioned.
“The snow is already bad,” a calm female voice came from behind the questioner. It was Qiu Nian speaking, “Because the snow has been ruined, the earth dog is pressing lower this round… Go back and watch the video replay. In the first round, his hands barely touched the snow surface, focusing purely on speed. But now, his hands almost touch the snow on every edge.”
Everyone suddenly understood, recalling that in the second round before the earth dog started competing, many sliders in the earlier groups had been thrown off due to the uneven snow surface—
Qiu Nian: “Also, watch the competition properly. Don’t just stare at the slider’s posture and whether it’s elegant or not. You guys are something else! No wonder men haven’t made any progress in ten thousand years!”
Spectator A: “Damn! So strict! When did looking at men become not allowed anymore!”
Spectator B: “…How come no progress! Isn’t the one sliding right now the benchmark for progress! Our male comrades have already stood up!”
Qiu Nian let out a sharp laugh.
At this very moment, as if to confirm what Qiu Nian had said, the black figure on the track was indeed pressing even lower than before. The edge of the snowboard had been tilted to an impossible limit for a soft boot, deeply cutting into the snow…
The scratches left by others on the snow were no longer a factor for him, because the grooves he carved were deeper and steadier!
In the blink of an eye, the last gate was right in front of him—
[He’s coming! The last gate!]
After this sentence was shouted, even the on-site host forgot to comment!
The surrounding crowd held their breath, watching with wide eyes as the earth dog competitor smoothly rounded the last gate with absolute stability!
[Okay, you can breathe now!]
At the host’s command, everyone took a deep breath, watching the earth dog smoothly cross the finish line. At the same time, the yellow-haired man in the staff passage raised his stopwatch toward the judges’ stand.
[Now, the judges’ stand is receiving the timing information. We also know that this situation was not anticipated for today’s competition, so there was no professional timing equipment prepared… This time, we invited player Orange to help with the timing temporarily, because during the short break just now, countless people flooded the official account’s comments demanding timing for the earth dog competitor.]
The host also stretched his neck to watch the fun—
[Manual timing will have errors. The results are for entertainment reference only. Everyone—okay, the judges’ stand has confirmed the timing results.]
The outcome of this match was no longer important to anyone. Anyone with eyes could see that unless the earth dog breaks his legs during the race, today’s podium is definitely his for the taking…
Everyone eagerly awaited the timing result.
When they saw one of the judges, a slider, repeatedly confirming something with Orange, they became even more excited.
The host almost sprinted away from his post to the judges’ stand. Standing there, he received the confirmed result and first announced loudly: [The timing result is—]
Then he added an [Oh].
Everyone: …………………………What the hell do you mean “Oh”! Don’t keep us in suspense!
A few seconds of silence passed, and the host spoke in a dreamlike voice: [The timing result is 57 seconds.]
As soon as this result was announced, the previously restless and noisy sides of the track collectively fell silent for two to three seconds.
—On the exact same course, during the men’s parallel giant slalom qualification at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, a time of 49.01 seconds was sufficient to advance to the next round among the 32 competitors.
In Olympic competitions, strict controls are in place regarding snow conditions, weather (crosswinds), temperature, humidity, and other factors.
In official competitions, athletes also wear hard racing-specific ski boots and racing-specific snowboards, which, structurally speaking, are incomparable to ordinary recreational ski boots and carving snowboards…
Achieving a time of 57 seconds on such snow conditions with ordinary soft boots and regular boards, under professional conditions…
No one could imagine what kind of result they would get.
But undoubtedly, it would be an astonishing number.
—This was something everyone present was well aware of.
[So the judges’ stand took so long just now because some members questioned whether the stopwatch was started too early.]
…
[Orange swears he pressed the button at the exact same moment the earth dog crossed the line.]
…
[Too fast, really too fast… This is just an incredibly absurd number! I don’t doubt for a second that if the earth dog were given professional equipment, without even considering the snow conditions, just sliding like that, he could break into the 45s.]
…
[This should not be the local dog himself, but whoever is hiding behind the local dog’s disguise -]
The host’s murmuring floated in the mid-air of today’s competition venue.
Everyone present understood that today’s competition had already ended. The unstoppable emergence of a new sliding gesture was unstoppable…
Not to mention today.
Perhaps from now on, in bigger and broader competition arenas, he would surely have a place.
…
The host of this award ceremony was Li Xingnan. As the only officially certified expert in parallel giant slalom present at the scene, he was undoubtedly the most suitable person to present the award.
When he walked towards the podium holding the paper bag containing BC’s limited edition stickers and one voucher each for BC and Gray snowboards, along with the trophy, his mood was quite complicated—
Outsiders all thought he had lost to an unknown skier wearing the disguise of a novice, a fairytale-like dramatic ending similar to “The Tortoise and the Hare”…
No one knew that the rabbit was indeed an ordinary rabbit, but the tortoise was actually one of the starter Pokémon, Blastoise from “Pokémon.”
Unable to explain, he kept his head down throughout the award ceremony without even looking at the person standing on the stage.
As the defeated opponent, he spent the entire second half of the competition calculating his gracious and appropriate lines. He said, “Although I don’t know why you suddenly changed your mind, seeing you standing on the competition course again is actually quite good… You slid well.”
After Li Xingnan finished speaking, his gaze fixed on the other person’s ski boots without moving.
After a while, he felt the trophy in his hand being taken away. When their hands touched, the other person’s slightly rough fingertips brushed across the back of his hand…
He was slightly startled.
Looking up, he found himself completely enveloped in the shadow cast by the person on the podium.
On the podium, the tall teenager with broad shoulders loomed over him like a small mountain. At this moment, he lowered his head, expressionless, and roughly said to him in a hoarse voice, “Oh, thanks then?”
Li Xingnan: “…”
Author’s Note:
[Today’s anecdote is about how experts can really slide well on any snowboard]
That day, I was struck with inspiration and insisted on using the red tree board of the master who taught me. It was 156 cm or something, anyway that red tree board was taller than me.
On the mountain, my friend and her coach were ready to go with their boards on, while we were still fiddling with swapping the bindings on our two boards.
Me: Wait for me, wait for me!
Master: Let them go first; you won’t be able to keep up with her on the red tree board (hinting I wouldn’t be able to handle this board and would end up crying and taking it off halfway down the hill).
Never did I expect that this clumsy bunny, with the red tree board underfoot, would slide so smoothly.
I quickly caught up to my friend and her coach.
Later, according to my friend’s recording—
Her coach, completely unaware of what had happened, turned around and suddenly saw this bunny charging recklessly on the red tree board right in front of them, while the master was behind hopping along on my 146 cm short Mach board.
My friend’s coach looked puzzled and asked: Why is XX (the master’s name) riding a toy children’s board?
Hhhhhhhhh
So indeed, masters can slide well on any board. Short or long, it doesn’t make a massive difference to them. For example, I, this so-called master, can now ride a red tree board as well (not really).
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