Jiang Ran had cursed Beijiao countless times, calling him an idiot, and now she felt as though she had lifted a stone only to drop it on her own foot.
Where exactly was he stupid?
Wasn’t he quick to catch on just now?
After hesitating for a few seconds, Jiang Ran didn’t give up and continued coaxing him gently, “I’m older, and I feel close to you like a younger brother—”
“Do you let your brother kiss you on the mouth?” He stared at her with a half-smile, “Well, I wouldn’t mind being that ‘younger brother.'”
“……………………Beijiao!” Her voice suddenly rose, but realizing something was off, she quickly lowered it again, “Your mom never took care of you, and you’ve taken care of yourself since childhood. Maybe that makes you temporarily crave being taken care of, so now you always want to stick around me… Once you meet a truly compatible girl your age—”
“Where do you get the inspiration to spout such a long speech? When have you ever taken care of me?” He asked, “Since I moved in with you, you haven’t even folded your own blanket.”
“…”
For a moment, she didn’t know whether to call him a “nonsense talker” first or to argue against his “nonsense rambling.” Anyway, whatever she said, he would immediately counter.
Seeing that Jiang Ran had finally run out of words and fallen into temporary silence, Beijiao, hiding his face, smirked slightly, his eyes narrowing, “All this talk you’re spouting—don’t tell me you’re implying I have a mother complex and stick around because I want to be taken care of by you? Is that projecting? You’re the one with twisted, obsessive, nostalgic tendencies, thinking everyone must be just like you—”
Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore.
She interrupted his tirade by calling his name sharply.
“What now?”
“In broad daylight, in a public place, behave yourself, okay?” she said in the gentlest tone, though her words were clearly agitated, “Don’t make me beat you up.”
Beijiao obediently zipped his lips.
Because he knew she always meant what she said, not just threatening with words… If she really laid hands on him, he couldn’t even fight back. He was determined to prevent such a massive injustice from happening at all costs.
He glanced back at the ski slope. By now, several people had curiously looked over, some recognizing Jiang Ran and naturally assuming she was scolding her apprentice—
But the posture didn’t seem quite right for training. Why was she sitting while her apprentice was half-kneeling in front of her? It didn’t look like a lesson at all.
Just as everyone was curious, they saw Jiang Ran’s beloved apprentice, the mysterious “mutt,” cautiously stretch out his gloved hand. It hovered mid-air for a moment before finally landing slyly on her bent knee.
Seeing that she didn’t resist, his eyes lit up. He playfully shook her knee and leaned in close to say something to her…
His long arms were braced on the snow beside her, and he was practically lying on her snowboard.
His nose, hidden behind the face mask, was nearly at her lips.
He was very close.
Almost close enough that if she turned her head slightly, her lips would brush against his cheek.
Actually, if one leaned in close enough to listen, one would realize that their hushed conversation was quite serious: “Are you done being mad? When you’re done, tell me how to go around these wide gates…”
Without expression, Jiang Ran grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in his face.
He let out a “mmpf” and backed off, while hearing her mercilessly say, “Don’t get so close for no reason.”
Beijiao lifted the face mask, shaking off the snow that had fallen into the mask and slid down his neck, busily fiddling with it.
Jiang Ran waited until he was too busy to lift his head before slowly giving him the proper instruction: “Back when I taught you the rear-heel leaf drift, I already told you about the importance of visual guidance. Yeah, in JSBA you don’t actively use visual guidance or shift your center of gravity to change edges, but you still need to look ahead. How many times have you looked sideways only after completing a rear-heel turn? Can you even keep up? By the time you look, you should already be getting ready for the next front-edge turn—”
“Oh, so it’s still a timing issue with edge changes.”
“This habit you’ve had since birth—your front-to-rear edge change is always half a beat too slow. Either you start too late and lose speed, or you change too early, and your back leg actively pushes the board, kicking up snow… You don’t have this issue with rear-to-front changes.” Jiang Ran said, “Have you heard me say this enough times yet?”
Beijiao loosened his face mask, which snapped back against his face, the high bridge of his nose pushing the black fabric into a small peak. He said, “Oh.”
“When you prepare to transition from front edge to rear edge, your eyes need to start guiding at the same time. Remember, where your eyes go, your body follows. Don’t look at the gates—”
Because if you look at them, you’ll end up crashing into them.
Before Jiang Ran could finish speaking, Beijiao had already darted forward like a large dog straining at the leash.
She angrily shouted, “Slow down!” He merely glanced back at her, then quickly turned his head forward again—
At the moment he twisted his head back, he stepped down and completed a rear-to-front edge change.
He smoothly bypassed the nearest gate, his line quite good, and switched back to a front edge.
Jiang Ran followed at a moderate distance, her eyes fixed on his snowboard. His edge angle was extremely high, which helped reduce friction between the board and the snow, increasing speed. The deep carve made for stable sliding.
As he carved through the snow, he moved as fluidly as a fish—
As he approached the middle of the turn, Jiang Ran saw Beijiao twist his head forward slightly, just as she had told him.
She thought: Well, at least he listened and has his good points. She’d give him a compliment after this run.
As soon as this thought surfaced, she let out a confused “Hmm,” because all she needed to do was lift her eyes to glance at the back of his head to know that his gaze had indeed gone forward a little too early, but it had gone too far, fixated stubbornly on the next gate he needed to pass—
Telling him not to look at something only made him want to look at it.
Sure enough, his entire center of gravity suddenly shifted off the board’s center, while in JSBA racing, the center of gravity remains consistent. That was SAJ technique.
But in racing, which prioritized speed and stability, everyone used JSBA.
So, the next second, she wasn’t at all surprised to see him wobble, apparently startling himself with the sudden disconnect between board and body. Then “crack!”—like a wild boar charging headlong, he slammed hard into the nearest gate!
The sound wasn’t brief; the gate actually broke. Jiang Ran watched as he rolled sideways like a gas cylinder, tumbling many times in the snow before crashing into the safety netting—
Everyone around was stunned, stopping and turning to look!
Jiang Ran’s heart lurched as well. She had been slowly pushing forward before, but now she kicked off and rushed over at top speed!
Beijiao was now hanging upside down on the netting, his upper body lying on the snow, the bindings of his snowboard caught on the mesh railing.
He stared at the sky, still assessing whether anything was broken, when the next second the blinding sunlight above him was blocked out. Jiang Ran practically threw herself beside him, her voice tense: “Where does it hurt?”
She skipped useless words like “Are you okay?”—obviously, with the gate broken, there was no way he was fine.
Beijiao thought his current posture was somewhat undignified.
Her hands were braced beside his head, and that familiar scent immediately filled his nose. Beijiao originally wanted to say something like, “Why don’t you take me down from the net first? I see someone over there taking photos with their phone. Do you still care about your reputation—”
But the words caught in his throat as he suddenly realized—she had leaned in on her own this time.
Suddenly, he didn’t care about embarrassment anymore. Lying on his back, he took advantage of her not paying attention and reached up to remove her goggles.
Jiang Ran wore Burton M Series magnetic goggles, the kind where the lens can be pulled off entirely. Without the lens, the tension and anxiety in her deep brown eyes were fully exposed.
She had, after all, been threatening to hit him just seconds ago.
Holding the lens, the boy suddenly let out a mocking laugh.
Jiang Ran narrowed her eyes slightly, probably suspecting he had already hit his head too hard.
Beijiao, having enjoyed the sight of her worrying about him, flicked his fingers and “snap!”—reattached the lens to her goggles. Lying on the ground, he spread his arms and legs wide, saying, “There, now you didn’t have to hit me. That pole did it for you.”
Hearing his relaxed tone, Jiang Ran’s tightly wound nerves eased slightly: “…Are you okay?”
Beijiao: “I hit my back. It’s throbbing a bit now, like it got hit by a pole. Probably swollen.”
That throbbing pain usually meant just a surface injury.
Seeing that he could talk and wasn’t complaining about severe bone pain or internal organ discomfort, Jiang Ran let out a breath of relief. She moved her head away from his face, took off her goggles, clipped them onto her snowboard, and then got up to untangle him from the netting—
He hung there like a salted fish.
Letting her do as she pleased.
“I told you not to look at the gates!” As she tore at the tangled red netting, she felt a wave of relief followed by irritation. She gave his left thigh (the part without protective gear) a slap, “You locked your eyes on it, so of course you hit the pole. You took off before I even finished speaking!”
“Smack!” Now Beijiao felt his left thigh hurt just as much as his back.
He twisted his upper body slightly on the snow, contorting into a difficult position to turn sideways, lazily playing with the laces on her snow boots: “Don’t be mad. My injuries are aching from your voice… This added injury might prevent me from competing, right?”
Jiang Ran coldly moved her foot away.
The boy’s sweet whining earned him another slap on the symmetrical spot on his right thigh (also without protective gear).
“Don’t compete anymore!”
She angrily cursed at him—
“You’re just too embarrassing!”
…
In the evening.
Beijiao stood on the bed, his back to the door, shirtless.
His skin was fair, but his frame was strong—broad shoulders leading down to a back full of evenly distributed, well-defined muscles.
Behind him stood Song Die, who now held a can of Yunnan Baiyao in one hand. He watched the boy twist himself into a knot trying to see his own back.
“How does it look? Is it swollen?” Beijiao asked, craning his neck in a futile attempt to see.
The person being asked held the medicine can in his hand, completely unfazed by the beautiful body in front of him, which could draw attention wherever it went. He calmly observed the person who had twisted himself into a pretzel…
Across his back was a long, red, swollen mark, as if someone had whipped him.
“Swollen? How can you ask such an innocent question? Of course it’s swollen—it’s not just a little swollen, okay?” Song Die said, “Maybe you should consider switching to slopestyle. Giant slalom isn’t for you.”
Beijiao was still twisting his waist, trying to catch a glimpse of his back himself… He paused at Song Die’s words and lifted his eyelids slightly: “Don’t be sarcastic. If you’re so capable, bring you along tomorrow to try giant slalom. You’re a promising talent for it, and my sister will definitely thank you for the stickers.”
He still had the energy to talk back, so it couldn’t be that painful.
Song Die didn’t want to argue with him. He raised the medicine can: “Get down. I can’t spray it if you’re standing so high.”
Beijiao said “Okay” and bent his knees slightly, squatting down a bit: “Like this?”
Song Die ignored him. Beijiao scooted closer to him, sticking out his butt and arching his lower back, “Or like this?”
Noticing that the person behind him still wasn’t paying attention, he turned his head to look at him: “The floor is too cold. I don’t want to come down. Why don’t you come up here?”
Song Die was just about to ask whether he wanted medicine or if being annoying could relieve the pain when the unlocked door was pushed open from the outside—
Cold air rushed in along with a woman’s head poking in through the doorway: “How’s it going? Did you finish applying the medicine?”
It was Jiang Ran.
She had already changed out of her ski suit, wearing a camel-colored cashmere long dress and a matching loose cashmere sweater, with snow boots and a puffy white down jacket on top…
She was wrapped up tightly, looking like she was getting ready to go out for dinner.
But when she looked up, she found that the two inside hadn’t even finished applying the medicine independently, and seemed to still be in a standoff.
Looking at the teenager standing high on the bed, she frowned: “Why don’t you just go up to the roof beam? It’s even higher.”
Song Die felt saved. Without a word, he handed the Yunnan Baiyao can to Jiang Ran. She grabbed the metal canister and looked at Beijiao expressionlessly: “Get down.”
Almost as soon as those two words landed, Beijiao was already standing on the floor.
As he steadied himself on the ground, he couldn’t help but lean slightly toward her, sniffing the air—
He just wanted to smell what she smelled like in her casual clothes today.
…Although she always seemed to smell about the same.
The movement was too big. The bending motion unfortunately pulled at his back, and he slightly furrowed his brow, letting out a soft hiss.
Jiang Ran swiftly reached out and spun him around like a spinning top, looking at the long red mark across his back. By now, it had already bruised beneath the skin, with a raised red stripe in the middle and white on both sides.
It looked shocking. If not for the thick clothing, it would have definitely broken the skin.
Jiang Ran reached out to touch it. At her touch, his back instinctively tensed, his muscles twitched, and he reflexively shrank forward slightly…
“Don’t.”
A single syllable slipped from his lips.
He hadn’t felt the pain while wearing the quick-dry and ski clothes, but now that he was shirtless, even the slightest movement hurt. He absolutely refused to let her touch him again.
Seeing his pitiful expression, Jiang Ran didn’t think he was in any condition to dress properly and go out with them to sit down for a meal… So she sent Song Die to buy dinner to bring back while she stayed to apply the medicine to Beijiao—
Song Die was much more obedient toward Jiang Ran’s orders, not uttering a single word of complaint as he grabbed his coat and prepared to leave. Before heading out, though, he glanced at the boy who had perked up the moment he started to leave, warning him, “Behave yourself.”
Bei Jiao gave him a sincere smile.
As soon as Song Die left and the door closed, Jiang Ran returned to the bed’s edge. The boy was already obediently standing there, glancing back at her. She said, “Sit down. Isn’t standing tiring?”
“I can’t sit,” he said. “It hurts to move at all.”
“…That serious? Can you even go snowboarding tomorrow like this?”
She sprayed medicine on him, the cool liquid hitting his swollen skin. He slightly tensed his abdomen and made strange, guttural sounds of suppressed pain, like an insomniac pigeon on a rooftop at night.
After Jiang Ran temporarily moved the medicine bottle aside, he took a deep breath and answered her in a voice trying to sound strong, “Yes.”
She lifted her eyelids and glanced at him. At the same time, he seemed to perceive her thoughts, lowering his gaze to meet hers: “I have to go, Master. I want those stickers.”
Jiang Ran blinked. Though unsure whether he was deliberately teasing her or being serious, she still felt a bit touched. On the surface, she remained indifferent, merely looking away and saying, “I don’t want them that much anyway.”
Bei Jiao stared at her insincere profile and thought, looks like she really does like them.
“It’s okay. This injury won’t hurt tomorrow.”
He tried to comfort her considerately.
“You say that like pushing yourself through the competition will guarantee you get those stickers.”
…And then it turned out that good intentions don’t always get good rewards.
Bei Jiao helplessly lifted the corner of his lips: “Jiang Ran, you’re being boring now—”
His eyelid twitched. Jiang Ran was just about to reply when the door creaked open slightly from the wind, letting in a cold draft… Song Die must have left it ajar.
Jiang Ran still held the medicine bottle in one hand, using her sleeve to wipe her face free of any imaginary dirt, muttering “I’ll go close it” before turning to shut the door.
As soon as she closed the door, before she could even turn around, someone pushed her from behind. Unprepared, she lost her balance and was pinned against the cabin door.
The Yunnan Baiyao in her hand was taken away and placed aside.
Through her clothes, the doorknob pressed against her abdomen, creating a feeling of fullness. She slightly furrowed her brows, about to ask the person behind her what they were up to again, when he had already leaned in, his chest against her back, his chin resting on her shoulder, clinging to her like a sticky octopus: “Jiang Ran, my back hurts.”
Both cloying and fragile.
His demeanor was completely different from when Song Die was around.
He deliberately leaned close to speak, his warm breath blowing onto her cheek… In such an intimate atmosphere, Jiang Ran’s heartbeat quickened slightly. Blinking, she said, “Don’t mess around. Let me go first.”
Though it was just past sunset and the room lights were off, plunging it into dimness, Bei Jiao could still see clearly. His dark eyes roamed her face, taking in her tension and confusion.
From deep in his throat, he let out a satisfied, derisive chuckle.
His strong arms wrapped around her waist, flipping her around. Then, at an extremely slow pace, so slow she couldn’t even figure out when something felt wrong, he used one hand to pin both of hers above her head.
Slightly sideways, he pressed his hips against her abdomen, completely pinning her in place… With the other hand, he played with her chin, shook the medicine bottle slightly, and smiled at her, his eyes and eyebrows gently curved: “One kiss, okay?”
He wasn’t cold at all despite being shirtless.
Pressed against her, he instead felt his blood rushing throughout his body.
His thin lips hovered very close to hers. He lowered his gaze, staring at her pale lips, thinking that kissing was indeed addictive—
As their lips met, he could almost hear her whimper between her teeth, carrying a sense of reckless abandon.
He struggled hard not to laugh out loud. Delighted, his tongue pushed past her unclenched teeth… chasing her tongue playfully for a while, then retreating to gently lick the spot on her lip he had bitten the day before, like a little dog.
She pushed him with her hands, inadvertently sliding from his waist to the inflamed skin on his back… He hissed, and in punishment, bit her lip corner slightly.
“Painful and still messing around?”
She lowered her eyes, looking at him indifferently.
At times like this, he was definitely unafraid of her cold expression, even daring to move in and nuzzle her. The boy’s head slid down along her face, burying itself in her neck: “It’s for you that I’m participating in this competition?”
As he spoke, his nose nudged her neck, finding it slightly fragrant.
Almost uncontrollably, with his face buried in her neck, his thin lips brushed against her warm artery, rubbed slightly, unsatisfied, he even stuck out his tongue to lick it again.
Unexpectedly, Jiang Ran felt a sudden softness in her waist, the tingling sensation shooting straight to her head—
Previously, no matter how much he had teased her, he had never touched any part of her besides her lips and face. Now, suddenly overstepping, she was completely unprepared.
Startled, she pushed him away with real force before he could react, quickly grabbing the Yunnan Baiyao from the table again.
“Not finished spraying yet.”
She remained expressionless.
Bei Jiao stood there stunned. The sensation of kissing her pulsing artery lingered on his lips. Almost uncontrollably, he pursed his lips slightly, then gazed at her deeply once more.
“Why are you blushing?” He also remained expressionless. “Did you like it just now?”
Jiang Ran directly threw the medicine bottle at him.
He could catch a basketball thrown by Song Die; catching a softly thrown medicine bottle posed no difficulty. He steadily caught the bottle, then thoughtfully said, “Scared, huh? Then don’t stay alone with me recently.”
Jiang Ran: “What?”
He smiled at her, looking harmless: “After all, I’ll do it again next time.”
…
That evening, videos and photos of Bei Jiao rolling around the snow like a gas canister and hanging like a salted fish spread throughout the snowboarder groups in Xinjiang.
Then they spread to the national carving groups.
Besides “hahahahaha,” the onlookers all accused Jiang Ran of being overly cruel, likening her to a bird that pushes its young out of the nest on a cliffside, letting them either fall to their death or learn to fly.
Being indirectly called a beast, Jiang Ran remained indifferent.
The next day, she still dragged her beloved apprentice onto the track for practice.
Another morning of hard training, and initially, Bei Jiao kept falling, leaving rolling marks all over the slope.
On the final run, he messed up another backside carve turn, hitting the pole at the same angle as yesterday. The pole flew sideways, and so did he, rolling sideways for several meters!
Lying against the netting at the side of the track, he leaned on it for three minutes before getting up. Jiang Ran thought about how he had just injured himself yesterday, and now he might have hurt the same spot again.
She slid up to ask him: “Rest?”
The boy lifted his eyelids slightly, speaking in a calm tone: “No need.”
Jiang Ran removed her board and reinserted the pole knocked loose by Bei Jiao.
After that, she no longer let him explore the route on his own. Instead, she followed him all the way, manually controlling his pace, until her voice was hoarse and sore.
It did have some effect. By nearly lunchtime, Bei Jiao finally managed to complete a slalom run without losing control or falling—
As for speed, it no longer mattered.
“An old lady crossing the street could be faster than you,” Jiang Ran said behind Bei Jiao after reaching the finish line. “Lean forward. Look at how stretched out your body is, like an SAJ. Weren’t you controlling speed and power pretty well before? Why did you lose both once you added the route? Can’t even hold your basic stance anymore?”
Upon hearing this, Bei Jiao smiled: “My back hurts. How can I lean forward?”
Upon hearing this, Jiang Ran waved her hand: “Watching you ski makes my head hurt too.”
Bei Jiao sighed: “It really hurts.”
She leaned closer, detecting besides the icy air, an unusual heat mixed with strange sweat and a metallic scent… She thought it might be her imagination, wanting to get closer to confirm, but he skillfully dodged away.
She lifted her eyelids to look at him, truly seeing a thin layer of sweat on his forehead visible through the gap in his goggles and helmet.
While she hesitated, the boy took off his goggles and helmet, casually wiped the sweat, and smiled at her, leaning down to her lips: “What, you believe me now?”
“…” Jiang Ran hesitated for half a moment, then lightly kicked his arm under the table, saying expressionlessly, “Let’s have lunch. I’m hungry.”
At lunch, Jiang Ran ate little, claiming that the rice grains scratched her throat, causing pain.
The theory that cooked rice could scratch someone’s throat surprised Bei Jiao and Song Die, who had never heard such a claim before, leaving them both astonished at her post-snowboarding delicacy.
Jiang Ran silently drank a bottle of cola, barely speaking throughout the meal. Whenever someone tried to chat with her, she would point to her throat and wearily wave her hand.
“You turned flag slalom into a voice-controlled game.”
Seeing Jiang Ran’s throat discomfort worsened by the carbonation of the cola, making her frequently frown, Song Die poured her a cup of hot tea, “Are you playing RPG role-playing here?”
Jiang Ran threw away the cola, drank the hot tea, and after slowly swallowing, let out a comfortable sigh. Under the table, she kicked Bei Jiao’s leg and said, “Even like this, you still can’t master it. I don’t know why, when it’s the same snowboarding, adding a pole in the middle suddenly makes you unable to handle it!”
Her voice was quite soft, strange, probably having figured out a way to speak without vibrating her throat as much.
At this moment, Bei Jiao was pushing the rice grains around his plate. Upon hearing this, he blankly looked up with an “Ah,” only to realize both people at the table were looking at him.
Uncharacteristically, he didn’t argue or act up, maintaining a sleep-deprived, dazed state, his usually bright eyes unfocused, as if his soul had left his body.
He said, “I need to pee.”
After finishing the last bite of food, he slowly stood up sluggishly, shoulders drooping, looking listless as he walked away.
Just from this appearance, no one would know he had made a major breakthrough in the morning’s practice.
Jiang Ran stared at his back for a long time before turning to Song Die in confusion and asking, “What’s wrong with him?”
Song Die shook his head in equal confusion. He didn’t know a damn thing either.
…
Inside the restroom.
Due to Qiu Nian’s constant nagging about “smoking being harmful to health,” A Ju originally just wanted to find a restroom to hide and smoke quietly.
The smoking area was too exposed, and going outside was too damn cold, making him reluctant to put on his jacket. With nowhere else to go, he finally ended up in the men’s restroom, a place Qiu Nian would definitely never visit.
Leaning against the sink, he had just lit a cigarette when, amidst the swirling smoke, a young man with dyed yellow hair was half-closing his eyes, spacing out. Suddenly, the restroom door opened, revealing her apprentice, who acted like a wild dog, coming in from outside.
They exchanged glances; strangers with no grudges, never having exchanged a single word, at most just aware of each other’s existence.
A Ju bit the cigarette butt and slightly lifted his chin toward him as a greeting.
The other glanced at him and, with a cold face, went into a stall.
At first, A Ju found it quite amusing, thinking to himself what was this mut doing looking so proud while taking a big dump. He snorted, the cigarette ember glowing at his lips, his gaze wandering again.
The cigarette had barely burned a third when the person who went into the stall came out again. He came to stand in front of A Ju.
The young man slightly narrowed his eyes, looking at him with some wariness and asked, “What are you doing?”
“…Help me with something.” The boy’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, yet his tone remained casual, “Can you check my back? I think something’s wrong.”
The sink counter was white tiles, and A Ju instinctively looked at the person’s hand awkwardly resting on the counter upon hearing his words… noticing two fingers stained with dried blood, the scabs on his fingertips smudged onto the counter, leaving a streak of red like someone had just squashed a mosquito there.
A Ju took the cigarette from his lips, washed his hands, then motioned for Bei Jiao to turn around.
He probably already confirmed something in the stall earlier. His clothes were a bit disheveled, the hem of his hoodie hanging loosely, still wet from the ice from too many falls during practice.
The white quick-dry shirt had been pulled out from his protective pants.
A Ju lifted his black hoodie and immediately caught a whiff of an ominous metallic scent. Looking up, he saw the back of the white quick-dry shirt was a mess—
His head buzzed, his teeth felt weak, and the cigarette still glowing with embers slipped from his lips and fell to the ground.
“What the hell?” A Ju was stunned, “What the hell did you do?”
He cursed a couple of times, the sentence “Are you snowboarding or did you go to Syria” almost slipping out. Then he thought about the video of the mut breaking the pole yesterday spreading far and wide, and he immediately understood. Probably scraped and bruised yesterday, thought it was nothing, and then another round of falls today…
And then it was completely torn open.
“Ah?”
Startled by his serious tone, Bei Jiao tried to reach behind to pull down the quick-dry shirt, but his hand was grabbed again. “Don’t. The quick-dry shirt is already like this. Don’t show me the mess underneath, I’m squeamish about blood.”
A Ju pressed down on his wrist, thought for a moment, then cursed again, “Forget it, you better take it off. Don’t want the cold to make the wound stick to the shirt and then have to tear it off later—”
Scared by the imagery his own words conjured, his mind went blank.
Bei Jiao heard his voice trembling and asked, “Is it serious?”
“Obviously?” A Ju said, “Didn’t you see I dropped my cigarette? What are you doing? This competition has Li Xingnan… You know Li Xingnan used to be on the national team, right? Not just him, there are plenty of others who’ve been waiting all summer and are now sharpening their blades… You won’t get a ranking anyway, why are you working so hard—”
A Ju couldn’t believe he was actually giving a half-stranger a serious lecture.
The saddest part was that others seemed too lazy to even listen.
Standing aside, he watched Beijiao take off his hoodie, followed by his moisture-wicking top. The teenager had sweated; when he first opened his clothes, hot air carrying a strong scent of blood and sweat rushed out—it was truly like a macho aura of iron and steel.
Looking at his back, he noticed the bleeding. Originally, the wound had only been oozing slightly, but later, due to the tight-fitting moisture-wicking top, during sliding or falling, the wound had rubbed against the fabric, making it look particularly shocking…
Orange’s legs turned weak.
Beijiao turned around, glanced at his back in the mirror, made an “Oh” sound, paused, then clicked his tongue.
…It was indeed somewhat serious.
“Just take care of it,” Orange couldn’t help but interject beside him. “Don’t skate for the next few days anyway. Besides, the ski resort in Jilin opens at the end of November. Then—”
“It’s fine.”
Beijiao interrupted him unhurriedly.
“…”
…Fine?
Huh?
Just as Orange was stunned into silence, Beijiao dropped an even more shocking bombshell—
The teenager pointed at his own back, treating it as if it wasn’t his own mangled flesh and blood, speaking in a lukewarm and calm tone: “By the way, don’t tell Jiang Ran about this.”
“…………………………Excuse me politely,” Orange asked seriously, “What brand of love potion did Jiang Ran give you, and where did you buy such a good one? I’ll even sell my underwear to get a dose, then go after the daughter of the world’s richest man.”
“…” The teenager seemed somewhat tired, lowering his eyes, “Just don’t tell her.”
“Okay,” Orange said, “I won’t.”
He meant what he said.
Three minutes later.
Grabbing someone else’s dog by the collar like a righteous president of the Animal Care Association, Orange marched with determined steps toward the completely clueless woman.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage