When she lifted her head to look at him, her dark brown eyes were still brimming with tears, making her gaze unusually hazy.
She looked so dazed, as if her crying had left her stunned.
The word “cute” was never associated with “older sister,” and clever humans should have created an intermediate term between “cute” and “sexy” to describe certain situations.
“What did you say?”
she asked hoarsely.
Her face flushed red, her nostrils flaring, and she occasionally inhaled sharply with a stifled sob. Her misty eyes gazed at him intently, as if to confirm whether his words were serious or just an impulsive remark.
Her lipstick had long been smudged off, or perhaps she hadn’t even applied any before leaving—
Her pale pink lips parted slightly, just within his line of sight, probably a mere nod away from his own.
He remained silent for a long time.
As she began to think he was merely caught up in a moment of passion and was considering how to offer him a graceful way out, he suddenly flickered his eyes and, in the next second, answered by slightly lowering his head.
Unexpectedly, their breaths drew infinitely close.
His nose touched her cool nose, and as he breathed, he even inhaled the sigh she exhaled—
At that certain distance where their lips were nearly touching,
she raised her hand, flustered, and braced herself against his chin.
The boy’s leaning motion abruptly stopped.
Yet, compared to his frame, her hand was tiny and her strength feeble, like a fragrant puff of cotton covering his mouth and nose…
Her gaze was hurried, as if caught off guard, making her refusal seem less resolute, more like a startled reflex.
If he wanted to continue, she probably wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Her pale, slightly pink fingertips pressed against his tall, straight nose, exerting barely any pressure.
Jiang Ran’s mind, still dazed from crying just moments ago, remained scattered, merely reflexively staring into his focused black pupils, seeing her own reflection in his eyes—
Her heart skipped a beat quietly, and the thick, ambiguous atmosphere in the air made her feel unfamiliar and wary.
She moved her lips, feeling she should say something.
However, before she could organize her thoughts, she thought she heard him sigh silently. The boy’s youthful and handsome face instinctively lowered slightly, as if unconsciously nuzzling her hand—
His soft lips brushed faintly against her palm.
A tingling sensation.
Her hand stiffened slightly.
Her entire body was as taut as a string about to snap, but finally, he straightened up as if nothing had happened, even quietly removing his hand from her back—
“Are you done crying?” his voice was calm. “Do you want to keep skiing or go home? Song Die is still waiting for you like an idiot inside.”
“…”
Five minutes later.
Jiang Ran’s face was slightly flushed.
In the mirrored reflection of the fire hydrant, the person’s eyes were swollen and red, her eyelids slightly puffed up, almost revealing the blue veins beneath, her nose resembling a clown’s with flushed red, while her lips were pale.
She slowly lifted her hand, brushing away the hair stuck to her still-damp cheeks, tucking it behind her ear, and took a deep breath—
Her hand remained steady as she slowly reapplied lipstick in front of the fire hydrant mirror, applying it a bit heavily. The cherry red on her lips masked the abnormal flush on her face. She then casually placed the lipstick into the pocket of her snow jacket.
Then she turned around.
The boy standing behind lowered his head, focusing on brushing the snow off his snowboard.
She stared at him for a while, certain he must have felt her gaze, as his hand trembled and he scraped off a large patch of snow from the board, which fell beside his feet.
Like a dog shaking off water after coming ashore, he shook his legs vigorously.
Jiang Ran stepped forward and rescued the snowboard, whose surface was nearly scraped raw, from his hands. “Stop scraping it.”
He flicked his eyes upward, seemingly just noticing her proximity, and slowly raised his gaze to look at her.
Her expression was blank: “Anyway, it’ll get dirty again once we ski.”
His lips twitched slightly. Her hand, gripping his snowboard binding, tightened nervously, as she fixed her gaze on his eyes.
Now fully composed, every glance and word she gave carried a subtle, cautious warning.
Until he reassuringly nodded and said, “Okay.”
She exhaled silently in relief.
“If you tell Song Die I cried, I’ll kill you.” She put on her goggles to hide her red eyes and said firmly, “That’s settled then.”
“…”
Behind the goggles, she saw the corners of his lips curl mockingly.
Jiang Ran experienced extreme emotional ups and downs that day.
Back on the slopes, everything seemed as if the chaos had never occurred. That kid, who had made her feel for the first time in the parking lot that “this guy might have suddenly grown ten years older in an instant,” pointed at her face and said to Song Die: “Nothing serious, just a park rider retired, and this carving rider got depressed.”
Later, when summarizing a certain moment she dared not recall, she comforted herself with a strong sense of Q-spirit—
Just assume it was the momentary atmosphere that led to all those unintentional actions.
…
Time flew, and summer vacation was about to end.
In late August, Guangzhou was still blazing with the summer sun. The university sports meet at A University had long ended, and the student volunteers had returned to campus early to clean up and prepare for the new semester. Zhang Liang was the first to call Bei Jiao with the good news—
About no longer needing to live under someone else’s roof.
When Zhang Liang called, Bei Jiao was sitting on a chair at the advanced slope of the Sunac Snow Field, fastening his bindings.
Wearing a helmet and face guard, he couldn’t easily answer the phone. He barely took off one glove to turn on speakerphone. Zhang Liang’s loud voice unavoidably echoed through every corner of the “big refrigerator”: “If you want to come back, you can pack your stuff tonight! Just need to sweep the dorm a bit, come back and clean it with me, hehehehe!”
“…”
Hehe my ass.
The phone nearly slipped from his hand into the snow pile. Bei Jiao frantically tried to hang up, but it was too late. A woman wearing a snowboard on one foot had already floated past him like a ghost, expressionless.
This was their first run of the day, and as per routine, both he and Jiang Ran needed to warm up. There was no question of her following slowly behind him.
His eyes reflexively followed Jiang Ran’s movements—
The woman stood about three meters away, bending down to fasten her bindings. She had braided all her hair today, tying it into a thick braid hanging behind her. As she bent to fasten her bindings, the braid swayed, covering most of her face.
After finishing, Jiang Ran stood up, turned sideways, and looked over. Bei Jiao, who had been staring at her, hesitated for a moment and immediately averted his gaze.
“You clean it yourself,” he finally interrupted his roommate’s cheerful invitation while holding the phone. “I don’t want to be alone with you.”
He probably knew Zhang Liang’s next line would be something like “you want to be alone with the older sister,” so before the latter could speak, he hung up decisively.
Jiang Ran still hadn’t moved from her spot, no longer looking at him but staring straight ahead, as if deaf.
However, this phone call had drawn someone else’s attention—
His shoulder was patted. Liang He stuck her head from behind: “Bei Jiao, you’re also from A University? Wow! Really? I’m a junior, and you? Could you be my junior!”
The good news was, as soon as she opened her mouth, Jiang Ran looked back over.
Just like she had called “Bei Jiao,” really.
Under the woman’s sharp gaze, Bei Jiao merely “hmm”-ed. In the past two months since they met, he had ignored Liang He’s chatter no fewer than three hundred times out of annoyance, but today, he actually initiated a question: “What’s wrong? You’re also from A University, so shouldn’t you have known me already?”
Liang He was rarely addressed by Bei Jiao with a question, especially such a long sentence… She paused slightly, blinked, and pointed at her own nose: “Why would I know you? You never mentioned it.”
Bei Jiao gave a low snort.
As the two seemed to be getting along well.
Not far away, Jiang Ran loudly clomped her snowboard toward the starting line, the earth-shaking noise drawing many sidelong glances. However, she seemed completely indifferent, pushed off with her foot, and stood sideways on the edge of the slope, turning to look over.
She gave Bei Jiao a deep look but didn’t greet him before sliding down.
Only then did Bei Jiao slowly stop smiling, his gaze flickering as he resumed his usual indifferent tone: “No, it’s just that before summer vacation, a video of a guy getting drunk in a bar and being flirted with by a strange woman circulated through various groups and forums at A University, becoming widely known and quite embarrassing.”
Liang He: “Huh?”
Bei Jiao stood up, brushing off non-existent dust from his clothes. His black pupils glimmered with a gentle light as he added with unnecessary nostalgia: “It was me.”
He left a stunned Liang He behind and slid away.
…
Today, there was an event at Sunac Snow Field in Guangzhou.
At the flat area at the end of the slope, where it was usually open and empty, several tents had been set up.
When Jiang Ran and the others arrived in the morning, the tents weren’t even set up yet, but now tables had been quickly brought over. Some staff members wearing work badges and Sunac uniforms stood behind the tables, with small notebooks and scattered registration forms on the table.
Beside several tables stood a signboard: The 2nd National Amateur Skiing Competition (Guangzhou Station).
Under the signboard was a long list of co-sponsored brands, along with prize and cash award lists for the top rankings.
When Jiang Ran arrived at the bottom of the mountain, she removed the rear bindings of her snowboard and looked up at the bustling scene with no reaction. She originally just glanced at the general sponsor brands and prize money listed below the signboard before turning to leave—
Dragging her board two meters toward the lift, she suddenly seemed to remember something and stopped again, turned around, and dragged her board toward one of the tables.
Coincidentally, the person behind this table was Ah Huang, a familiar employee from the ski equipment shop. Seeing her, he greeted her with a smile and preemptively grabbed the registration form on the table, half-jokingly acting: “Oh no, no! We don’t allow professionals to participate!”
His sarcastic shouting drew the attention of other busy staff members. When they saw Jiang Ran standing with her hands on her hips in front of the table, they burst into laughter.
Jiang Ran expressionlessly pulled the registration form from Ah Huang’s arms, slapped it onto the table, and then grabbed a ballpoint pen from his chest pocket, writing furiously on it.
As she was writing, she suddenly heard a loud noise from the slope above, the sound of an approaching carving skier. The friction between the snowboard and the snow surface produced a massive sound—
Her hand paused, but she didn’t turn around, just speeding up her writing.
Bei Jiao was no longer the Bei Jiao of two months ago, who fell while learning to push off the slope and needed someone to help him up. After two months of practice, now at the advanced slope of Sunac Snow Field in Guangzhou, aside from Jiang Ran, Zhao Keyan, and others who had been carving for eight million years and had numerous sponsorships, among the amateur skiers, few looked as skilled as him.
What characterized carving?
Fast sliding speed and loud noise.
In other words, if he didn’t pursue a perfect sliding posture and focused solely on speed, he could catch up with anyone he wanted to on the slope.
When Jiang Ran finished filling out the registration form, threw the pen, and straightened up, the person behind had already rushed over—
He had skied fast, not slowing down even on the gentle slope at the bottom, charging straight toward her like a high-end torpedo. His solid chest crashed heavily into her back!
A loud “slap” echoed.
Jiang Ran felt her body jolt, nearly coughing out three pounds of old blood. Her hand had just come off the table when she stumbled forward—
Before she could crash into the table and fall, a big hand from behind grabbed her waist and pulled her back. Her back hit the culprit’s chest again, feeling his warm breath sweep across her neck.
The two rolled together like Siamese twins in front of Ah Huang.
“So rushed, in a hurry to take the lift alone?” The boy’s voice, just past puberty, carried a slight deepness as it sounded in her ear, “Don’t you even wait for me?”
As if to prevent her from escaping again, he loosened his grip on her waist but didn’t completely let go—
His big hand moved from her waist to firmly grasp her elbow, pinning her in place. Then, bending down, he swiftly “clack-clack”ed and unfastened his rear snowboard bindings with the other hand.
Standing up straight, he composedly and steadily nodded to the astonished Ah Huang in greeting.
Taking advantage of his brief distraction while greeting others, Jiang Ran tried to shake her arm. Unfortunately, he seemed to have never shifted his attention, his hand gripping her elbow like an iron lock.
“…”
Jiang Ran bristled.
“Let go.”
She warned in a low voice.
“Okay,” he silently tightened his grip, “I can’t hear you.”
After saying that, he politely waved at Ah Huang, signaling: I’m leaving, goodbye.
Thus, the newcomers passing by looked on in confusion as a tall boy completely “kidnapped” a clearly unhappy young woman. The two stumbled and tugged each other toward the lift gate—
At the gate, he easily lifted her up and placed her behind him, ignoring her protests, squeezing through first to swipe his card and pass through the gate…
Quickly moving to the lift, he turned back with bright eyes, waiting for her eagerly.
…As if fearing that Jiang Ran would pass through the gate first and leave him behind, taking the lift up alone.
Jiang Ran had no choice but to roll her eyes and reluctantly move over, being pulled and dragged onto the same lift as him.
The lift started, and she leaned against the side rail, looking sideways at the gradually gathering crowd at the event registration point below—
Keeping as much distance from him as possible.
Bei Jiao, seemingly unaware, first raised the safety bar, then leaned toward her, shoulder to shoulder, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer.
He tugged her sleeve twice, and when she still turned her head away, he softly chuckled to himself, not caring whether she wanted to listen or not, slowly saying, “I didn’t mean to chat with Liang He. It’s just that she mentioned she was a student from our school, so I was curious and asked if she had seen our video—”
She quickly turned her face back, glaring at him.
He finally saw her face and, behind his face guard, smiled at her: “That’s all.”
“What’s wrong, are you proud?” she asked expressionlessly, “If others don’t mention it, you bring it up yourself?”
He was silent for a moment but then seriously nodded: “I do miss it a bit. After all, back then you still liked teasing me, but now you just glare at me…”
She turned her head away again, though this time her body didn’t tilt away from him completely…
Bei Jiao looked down at their snow jackets rubbing together and the snowboards overlapping at their feet, his expression relaxing.
The lift slowly climbed toward the mountain top.
He tugged her sleeve again: “What were you registering for at Ah Huang’s place?”
Jiang Ran slowly looked at him and haughtily asked, “Are you blind?”
Bei Jiao: “Huh?”
Jiang Ran pointed toward the billboard where the largest headline was still barely visible: “Competition.”
Bei Jiao was stunned: “You still need to participate in a competition?”
Everyone in the carving circle knows Jiang Ran. After the first half of summer vacation, when he could ski on his own, she basically stopped guiding him…
She was busy teaching her own students all day, barely touching the ground with her feet. Occasionally, while he was skiing, she would pop up from behind to critique his technique—
Just a moment ago, a novice on the ski lift was bowing his head, filled with admiration for him.
Hearing the shock in his voice, Jiang Ran’s lips curved slightly: “Not for me, for you.”
Bei Jiao: “?”
Jiang Ran raised her hand and patted his shoulder: “I signed you up. The first prize is 3000 yuan. The competition is in five days. Good luck.”
…
Down at the bottom, Ah Huang unfolded a stack of registration forms.
The top one was filled out with various information, clearly written in a woman’s flowing handwriting.
Since the competition was meant for some emerging newcomers to gain visibility, it didn’t require real names. Participants could use a stage name prepared for their debut, but…
“‘A Local Dog,’ huh.”
Holding the form, Ah Huang sighed—
Bei Ge’s naming style is quite wild. Is he not even considering the possibility of becoming famous one day?
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage