The conversation with Zhao Keyan was uninspiring but quite enlightening.
In the evening on his way home from work, Beijiao was still preoccupied with thoughts of Lin Shuang.
When he got home, Jiang Ran was already asleep, the TV screen still glowing, and a pile of empty bottles in front of the sofa.
Beijiao, who worked at a bar, knew all too well that combined, all this alcohol should be enough to fell a bull…
Ah, this woman.
A madwoman.
Right now, she was curled up in the corner of the sofa wrapped in a blanket just like that morning, sleeping contentedly and peacefully even after drinking, yet there was still something pitiful about her—
Of course, that was Beijiao overthinking.
But in those videos he had watched tonight, the woman who always smiled seemed like a completely different person from the small, pitiful figure curled up on the sofa.
He approached her, squatted down, and stared at her face—
The sleeping woman appeared completely non-threatening; under the fluorescent glow of the TV, her delicate face even revealed tiny strands of fine hair…
Apparently, her fever had returned in the late hours of the night, flaring up again. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were slightly parted and pink from nasal congestion. Her lashes fluttered restlessly with each breath.
She was probably dreaming.
Alcohol never helps people escape nightmares.
Almost unconsciously, he raised his hand and gently brushed her eyelashes.
Just a light touch, but she reacted as if rescued, sleepily opening her eyes from the nightmare’s depths. Her long, fine lashes fluttered, and in her drowsy, tipsy state, she murmured, “Who is it?”
Her voice was languid, drawn out.
“It’s me,” his throat felt tight, making his voice low and hoarse. “You’ve got a fever again. Are you trying to kill yourself? Fever and your period, and you still had to go and drink?”
She didn’t care about being scolded—she even gave him a hazy smile, silently arching her body, her pale feet rubbing against the sofa as she burrowed deeper into the fuzzy blanket. “Lin Shuang?”
She called out the name of someone who only appeared in dreams.
[She’s delirious from illness—let her call whoever she wants.]
…
[Lin Shuang is allergic to alcohol and never drinks. Back then, when Jiang Ran was drunk and confused, there was nobody else around except her.]
Zhao Keyan’s voice echoed in his mind.
He swallowed hard, knowing he shouldn’t argue with her at a time like this, so he simply replied with a soft “Hmm,” indulgently accepting her mistake.
But then he thought for a moment, a flicker of light gleaming in his dark pupils. He suddenly changed his mind, his tone now half-teasing: “No, not Lin Shuang. Don’t you have another apprentice?”
Come on.
Say my name.
“There’s no one else. Just one.”
As if instinctively insisting, Jiang Ran turned over, letting out a tired sigh—
“No more apprentices. They don’t listen, they get hurt easily, and they only make people sad.”
After she spoke, she sighed again, slowly closing her half-lidded eyes.
Squatting in front of the sofa, he stared at her sleeping back for a long time until he heard her steady breathing resume.
“…”
The boy lowered his head, helplessly smiling to himself at the empty air.
“Wow, not even getting to be an apprentice.”
He picked her up and carried her back to her room, carefully laying her down on the bed.
Jiang Ran had fallen asleep.
But Beijiao was plagued by nightmares all night.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jiang Ran holding Lin Shuang’s arm, cupping her face with a dazed smile as she murmured, “Sweetie.” In his dream, he stood by, watching coldly and sneering: Sweetie? What sweetie?
Then, in a haze, somehow the hotel background transformed into Jiang Ran’s home, and Lin Shuang’s face changed into his own…
Her soft arms wrapped around him, her nose gently nuzzling his carotid artery, her warm breath pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Her delicate fingertips lightly caressed his hair as she tilted her head, smiling at him and whispering, “Want a kiss?”
Then, in the next second, just before her lips could land on his nose, she stopped. Her smile vanished, and she emotionlessly looked at him, saying: “But you’re not my apprentice. Who are you?”
Startled, Beijiao woke up in a fright.
The dream’s content was too horrifying, immediately categorized by him as a nightmare.
The room was empty, no people sprawled across the floor or bottles scattered about—only a disoriented boy sitting on the bed, clutching the blanket.
Sweat from his forehead was almost dripping in beads. He got up, went to the bathroom to splash water on his face, and checked the wall clock. It had only been half an hour since he thought he’d fallen asleep.
He had no intention of sleeping again.
He didn’t even dare to recall her face voluntarily.
His heart felt hollow, as if a piece had been forcibly torn away.
…
The next morning.
Half-asleep, Jiang Ran felt someone stealthily lifting her blanket—very carefully, only a small corner, freeing her face from beneath it. Then a few seconds of pause, followed by a warm, dry hand pressing against her forehead.
“The fever’s gone.”
She opened her eyes and calmly told him.
“…”
The person crouching by the bed immediately stopped breathing, frightened into immediately sitting back on the floor, and then, in a crab-like motion, scooted backward two or three meters!
This was very strange—this was the same person who had sneaked into her room like a thief early in the morning, yet now he looked as if he had been scared out of his wits.
At this moment, the boy froze a few meters away, silent for half a moment. His eyelids twitched, and he quickly turned his head, deliberately averting his gaze to a safe direction, staring at a corner of the room, his face expressionless as he said, “It’s nine o’clock. Get up and have breakfast.”
Jiang Ran’s gaze lingered on his reddening earlobes.
Looking down, she found her clothes intact, nothing immodest—her pajama straps were even unusually in place on her shoulders.
It was so strange—why was he acting like this? What had shocked him so much?
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Are you going to have breakfast or not?”
In his gradually impatient tone, she didn’t think much of it—because she was genuinely hungry at that moment.
Someone who hadn’t seen the sun before noon in years now felt hungry because she overslept by half an hour past breakfast time—Jiang Ran felt like maybe she was the one being subtly tamed.
Breakfast was already bought and placed on the table: fried dough sticks, soy milk, black rice porridge, pickled vegetables, and a few salted duck eggs. In the center of the table sat a bowl of white rice porridge, likely homemade.
Jiang Ran sat down, realizing she could probably survive even if her hands were broken—
Because the moment she sat down, without her saying a word, bowls of white rice porridge and black rice porridge were placed in front of her;
All the side dishes, after three seconds of hesitation from him, were moved from the center of the table to within her easy reach;
The fried dough sticks were carefully cut into bite-sized pieces;
He sat beside her, eyes lowered, his long, thick lashes fluttering. He patiently peeled a salted duck egg, then used chopsticks to scoop out the yolk and place it into a small white porcelain dish, pushing it right under her eyes.
He casually tossed the remaining half of the egg white into his own bowl.
Jiang Ran watched his every move, suddenly speaking up: “I want to eat the egg white too.”
Beijiao: “…”
Beijiao was just about to scoop the remaining half of the egg white into his own bowl when he paused, said nothing, turned his hand around, and placed half a complete salted duck egg white into the porcelain dish where the yolk had been.
… Of course, Jiang Ran didn’t actually want the egg white—it was way too salty. She had just said it on a whim.
“What are you doing? Did you drink too much last night? Are you still not sober?” she looked at the boy, who was hunched over his bowl drinking porridge.
“Who drank too much?” Beijiao didn’t even lift his head. “Guess who left all those bottles around for me to clean up when I came back?”
“… “Caught red-handed, Jiang Ran simply replied in a cold tone, “I still don’t feel well today. I have a headache from the hangover and menstrual pain. I shouldn’t go to the fridge. Even if you personally come to put my shoes on, I won’t go with you. I need to rest.”
She rambled on, but surprisingly, this usually willful and unruly person unusually didn’t jump up to scold her today. His face was practically buried in his bowl as he muttered, “Oh.”
Then, obediently and uncharacteristically, he said, “You sleep. I’ll play with Song Die.”
… You’re going to play with Song Die?
That sounded a bit crazy.
Would Song Die even want to play with you?
Jiang Ran suspected that Beijiao had been possessed by someone at the bar last night, otherwise what was wrong with him this morning?
Fearing he might still have some hidden tricks up his sleeve, she remained extremely vigilant while finishing her breakfast. Sitting on the sofa looking at her phone, she heard his footsteps and turned her head, only to catch sight of his retreating figure rushing toward the entrance—somehow he had already put on his backpack with his skiing gear, the ski boots swinging from both sides of the backpack. One hand braced against the wall as he was putting on his shoes.
Jiang Ran: “?”
So he was really leaving?
Yesterday he still looked like someone who couldn’t live without her?
What’s going on?
Jiang Ran stood up and slowly walked toward the boy’s back in her slippers.
She deliberately made her footsteps heavy, and made sure he heard her approaching, because the person standing at the entrance with his back to her stiffened slightly.
“Beijiao.”
She called his name and saw the person who had one hand braced against the wall to balance himself while putting on his shoes scratch the wall silently, his hand’s knuckles popping.
“Turn around.”
She calmly ordered.
The boy hesitated for a few seconds, then seemed to give up resisting. His previously tense shoulders suddenly relaxed. He lowered his head, turned around, and stared at the tip of her slippers without saying a word.
“You know that from the moment I opened my eyes this morning until now, you haven’t looked at me directly once, right?” she asked gently, as if he had done it unintentionally. “Hmm?”
After her words, she saw his eyelashes tremble violently, as if he was having a huge internal struggle.
Three seconds later, he lifted his eyes to glance at her—
Just one glance.
He quickly lowered his gaze again, turned his face away, and said in a resigned tone: “No.”
Jiang Ran was puzzled: “What?”
He muttered from deep in his throat: “I just don’t want to look at you right now.”
At first glance, this sounded like an insult, but there seemed to be a subtle difference between “I don’t want to see you” and “I just don’t want to look at you right now”?
Jiang Ran felt a bit hesitant—
Most importantly, last night when he left, she had already gone to sleep, so she hadn’t had the chance to do anything to provoke him.
“Why don’t you want to look at me?” So she asked confidently, her voice carrying a teasing tone at the end, “Is my face ugly today?”
Before she finished speaking, she saw him grab the doorknob, instantly pull the door open, and in the next second, he was already standing outside.
The door slammed shut as swiftly as if blown by the wind. Amid the thunderous slam, she barely heard his low, sincere reply: “Not ugly.”
“…”
Jiang Ran stood there, completely confused about what had just happened—
Goddammit.
A boy’s heart is like a needle in the sea?
…
At the entrance of Guangzhou Rongchuang Snow World.
Song Die was picking up his ski pass at the snow park entrance when he ran into Beijiao, who had just retrieved his snowboard from an old man who repaired them. Spotting the boy walking toward him with his snowboard slung over his shoulder and his face cold, Song Die instinctively looked behind him.
Before he could see whether there was a familiar figure in the crowd, he heard the latter’s cold, mocking voice: “Stop looking. Who’s clingy? She’s resting today.”
Who knows who’s clingy?
Song Die turned his gaze back.
Without saying another word, the two waited for each other to switch their passes and then walked into the snow park together, swiping their cards through the gate, and then both sat down on a bench to change shoes.
After putting on his own shoes, Beijiao turned his head and saw Song Die still fiddling with the drawstring on his ski boot. He curled his lip in disdain before pulling out his phone to play—
[Huhehu: Hello! Are you up?]
[Huhehu: Are you going skiing today?]
[Huhehu: There’s a gate here, want to join me? Haha!]
[Huhehu: I’m on my way to the snow park. Let me know if you’re coming too. Don’t make my early wake-up call for nothing!]
…
And so on, with about seven or eight more messages.
He swiped left on the chat box with a blank expression, clicked “delete,” and removed the conversation box that had been automatically pinned to the top due to frequent new messages.
Beijiao didn’t know why Liang He was so persistent. Could it be that yesterday his “No, thank you” had given her the wrong impression that he was actually eager to hang out with her?
Shouldn’t that be Jiang Ran’s fault?
He scrolled down a bit, “deleting” or “hiding” countless groups and individuals along the way, until finally Jiang Ran’s avatar appeared on the first page.
Satisfied, he clicked into the chat.
[Beijiao: I’m not under your watch today. Can I go to the park?]
[Who’s Jiang Ran: If you had even one percent of the audacity you showed this morning when you left the house, you wouldn’t have run off without even daring to look at me.]
[Beijiao: ? Who said I didn’t dare to look at you?]
[Who’s Jiang Ran: Are you blind? I just said it. A second ago.]
[Who’s Jiang Ran: Did you get to the snow park yet?]
[Beijiao: Arrived.]
“Whose Rran Duck: Practice well. Try not to lift your butt so far off the ground with your backside; fold, fold, fold… and then stay safe.” Beijiao stared at the final line, racking her brain over which artistic style she should use for her reply, only to realize that no matter how she constructed her sentences, they all eventually circled back to the phrase, “If you don’t consider me your apprentice, don’t bother me.”
At this moment, Song Die stood up after tying his shoes. Beijiao thought for a moment and felt this was a sign from heaven telling her to shut up, so she silently put away her phone and picked up her board.
“?!” Song Die asked in confusion, “What did I do to offend you just by tying my shoes?”
Beijiao returned a confused look: “Can’t you even breathe without offending me?”
Song Die finally lost his temper: “Then how come you still haven’t gotten used to this normal state of mine? Why do you look so dejected and miserable? It makes me feel like I’ve become a stray dog that’s been abandoned—”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Beijiao’s expressionless face before adding, “Then I joined your team, and now we’re getting ready to go through the trash bins together.”
“You flip through them yourself,” Beijiao said naturally. “This morning, I sat at Jiang Ran’s dining table and ate breakfast with dignity.”
Song Die weighed his snowboard in his hand, thinking about how hard he could smash it against Beijiao’s head to make it crack open.
The fridge wasn’t too crowded yet.
The cable cars at Sunac were pretty narrow, and when two grown men sat in one, it became especially comically cramped.
Standing in front of the cable car, Beijiao measured its width with an unprecedented seriousness in his gaze and hesitated, saying, “We don’t really need to ride the lift together—”
Song Die was just about to say, “I’m delighted with this kind of polite refusal,” when he suddenly heard someone calling Beijiao from behind.
He wondered who else could know him here besides the staff (all men) and Jiang Ran, and turned around to see a girl running toward them, hugging a carving board.
Beijiao clicked his tongue.
The girl lowered her face guard to her chin, revealing a prettily made-up face. She looked up at Beijiao with a bright smile: “Are you still alone today?”
Beijiao didn’t respond. Song Die, standing beside them, asked casually, “Do you know each other?”
Liang He only seemed to notice the other person there then, turned her head, and greeted him. Song Die felt a bit happier upon realizing the girl was quite pretty, so his smile became a bit more genuine—of course, this happiness had little to do with Liang He herself.
“I’m sure your older sister is delighted to know you’ve made friends on the slopes.”
Song Die said ambiguously.
The next second, he was yanked onto the same cable car by Beijiao, grabbing him by the collar. The two men squeezed into the cable car, which let out a creaking protest under their weight.
Pulling down the safety bar, Beijiao, expressionless, said, “If you’re going to go tattle on me, give me a heads-up. I’ll make sure to run you over on the slopes first.”
…
Liang He insisted on sticking to Beijiao, and he couldn’t shake her off no matter how hard he tried.
Initially, Beijiao still remembered Jiang Ran’s words, “Be polite.” But after she followed them for a few runs, he finally lost his patience—
Firstly, he didn’t want to squeeze into another cable car with Song Die, sitting leg to leg, which was so cramped and uncomfortable.
Secondly, she was too noisy.
Lastly, his mood had been pretty bad today.
Mainly because his emotions had been all over the place since he woke up.
…Wait, no.
It started last night.
After being scared awake by a nightmare, he hadn’t really slept much at all.
This morning, he had known he should leave quietly, but as he tiptoed past that woman’s bedroom door, he couldn’t help but stop, sticking like a gecko to the wall and listening to the sounds inside for a while…
This time she didn’t murmur in her sleep again, but he still pushed the door open and went in.
Then he spent the morning feeling restless. Luckily, when he argued with Song Die earlier, he hadn’t asked him specifically what he had eaten because he couldn’t remember at all—he only remembered his mouth mechanically opening and closing…
But the thunderous pounding of his heart was vivid and fresh in his memory.
For example, right now, just thinking about those absurd dreams or Jiang Ran’s face made him feel like he was one step away from death.
It was so unbearable.
Skiing couldn’t even save him from this inexplicable, terrible mood. Even after several runs, despite hearing Song Die praise him, saying, “You didn’t go home last night and skied the whole night at the resort practicing,” Beijiao still wore a gloomy expression, thinking: damn, I really want to go home and see what she’s doing.
As soon as this thought appeared, he scared himself, his legs went weak, his scalp tingled, and his mood got worse.
Finally, after swiping through the gate once, he didn’t cling to Song Die like a lifeline to ride the lift together again. Instead, for the first time that day, he turned around actively and said to the girl following him: “Don’t ask me about how to touch the snow with your front edge. Haven’t you noticed our skiing styles are completely different?”
Liang He let out an “Ah,” lifting her chin, looking somewhat dazedly at him.
…This morning, Jiang Ran had looked at him the same way, but he hadn’t felt as annoyed then as he did now.
He didn’t know how to explain JSBA and SAJ to her because he only roughly knew where the two styles looked different; he couldn’t explain the technicalities… so he simply pressed the edge of his face guard and bluntly concluded: “I don’t want to make friends—just like that, stop following me.”
Liang He called him back: “Wait, wait! If our skiing styles are different, can’t we still ski together?”
Beijiao was shocked: “Why would we ski together if our styles are different?”
Liang He was also shocked: “Do you only ski for the sake of skiing?”
Beijiao: “Do you know how expensive the tickets are here? Did you come here to make friends? You can type on WeChat for free.”
Liang He: “…”
Liang He: “Is it because of that older sister from yesterday?”
His brain reacted before his language center could catch up, and he said, “Yes.”
Finally, the girl was driven away by Beijiao’s harshness. Before leaving, she stomped her foot hard, probably thinking it was bad luck to meet such an unreasonable lunatic.
Watching her retreating figure, Beijiao felt no regret at all, even relieved, and sincerely hoped she would angrily delete his WeChat as well—
After all, to keep Jiang Ran’s profile picture naturally on the first page of WeChat, he had to open WeChat every half hour to scroll through these new conversation profile pictures and groups that popped up, clicking “Do not display conversation,” which was such a hassle.
As for why Jiang Ran’s profile picture needed to stay on the first page of WeChat…
It’s not important.
Just pretend it’s because her little frog holding a lotus leaf had such a strange but nice-looking profile picture.
Beijiao dragged his board slowly up to the cable car.
This time, Song Die squeezed in by himself, sat down beside him. As the cable car swayed, Beijiao lazily glanced at him with the corner of his eye, resisting the urge to push him down after crossing the bridge.
“Don’t talk. She finally left,” he spoke first. “Let me have ten minutes of peace, please.”
Would Song Die listen to him?
No.
“‘That older sister from yesterday’—who is she?” Song Die asked.
“…The big sister you’re imagining,” Beijiao answered listlessly. “Who else could it be?”
“You cut off your blossoms for Jiang Ran?” Song Die turned his head, staring at him with shining eyes.
Beijiao was stunned: “Huh?”
Song Die: “Have you fallen for Jiang Ran? When did this happen?”
It was more shocking than Zhao Ke Yan’s “jealousy.” Beijiao’s brain went blank for three seconds, then he tried to lift the safety bar and push the person beside him off the cable car from the highest point.
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