Strictly speaking, Zhao Keyan was actually two years older than Beijiao and was his senior.
But whether it was because of his youthful mindset or just how things were back then, he had only ever been slapped by women—light, nonchalant slaps that didn’t hurt, after which he could still laugh it off, rather than having his head smashed into the ground—
That was all many years ago. Back in middle school, Beijiao had only ever really gotten into a fight once. The guy he beat up ended up in the hospital with several stitches on his head, yet Beijiao didn’t even receive a warning sanction…
Who the hell knows what he did back then in the academic affairs office, but apparently, someone with no background and parents who didn’t even care, had the director of student affairs tearfully send him home personally.
……………Honestly, could it be too much to say he possessed some kind of bewitching sorcery?
Standing in front of the expressionless teenager at this moment, Zhao Keyan felt, for the first time, that maybe his mouth had been a bit too flippant.
“Bro Bei!” Zhao’s scalp prickled, “What are you doing here?”
“Learning to ski.”
Beijiao said it matter-of-factly, even showing Zhao the board in his hand. Though it wasn’t Zhao’s board, there was definitely a hint of showing off.
“With her.”
He then pointed at Jiang Ran behind him.
As he spoke, he seemed almost afraid Zhao might try something again, so he quickly pulled Jiang Ran out from behind just enough for Zhao to see her, then immediately shielded her again.
Zhao hadn’t noticed anything odd at first, but when his eyes passed over the bindings, both facing the same direction, he uttered an “Uh,” and said, “Not many people commit to carving from the very beginning of their push turns. I like that in you.”
Beijiao didn’t understand.
But he was sensitive.
He turned to ask Jiang Ran, “What does that mean? When did I ever make a choice?”
Jiang Ran had no idea Zhao was currently beside himself with fear, terrified of getting beaten up again, and speaking in a panic-stricken rush… She just wished she could sew his mouth shut.
As for the issue of binding direction, Beijiao had been nagging her all day about it. Now, seeing she couldn’t hide it any longer, Jiang Ran could only tell him the truth—
In a tone and manner even firmer and stronger than his.
“Right, duck-footed stance for pushing, turning, and smooth transitions. Only after mastering those should you decide your preferred advanced skiing style based on personal preference. If you choose carving, the bindings face the same direction. You didn’t make a choice—you were just following me. I made the choice for you.”
Beijiao moved his lips slightly, as if to say something.
But Jiang Ran didn’t give him the chance.
“Other people pay me over a thousand yuan per hour for lessons, and I might not even have time. Now I’m teaching you the exact same thing for free—do you really want to be picky?”
“…”
Normally, if she acted cute or played the gentle type, Beijiao would argue a little.
But right now, she stood behind him, slightly tilting her head up to look at him because of her height, yet her presence was strong, her dark almond eyes devoid of warmth… making Beijiao feel, for the first time, as though he’d been overpowered.
It was a new feeling, and his heart stirred slightly—
He was actually a bit afraid of her.
At the same time, there was also a strange excitement.
It really was like the leader of a pack of stray dogs in an alley suddenly lifting his head one day to find a new, unfamiliar face standing at the alley’s entrance—taller, stronger, with sharper teeth.
“I was just asking. If you’re not guilty, why are you being so aggressive?”
“This is aggressive?”
“Why don’t you talk to Song Die like this?”
“He paid,” Jiang Ran said expressionlessly, “Did you pay?”
Now she had definitely hit Beijiao’s weak spot, and she knew exactly how to do it—she knew saying this wouldn’t make him feel his masculinity was threatened, so he wouldn’t get angry—
Exactly as expected.
As soon as she finished speaking, she saw the boy in front of her eyes brighten slightly, then immediately turn to look at Song Die, who was standing nearby without interrupting or leaving.
He still remembered that “Jiang Ran teaching me skiing for free” would infuriate Song Die.
So the focus immediately shifted, no longer obsessing over which way the bindings faced… He stared stubbornly at Song Die, and the latter didn’t disappoint him either. Song Die looked like he wanted to roll his eyes but restrained himself for the sake of his image, coldly asking, “What’s there to be proud of about freeloading?”
Beijiao nodded, “True.”
Song Die thought he had backed down, his expression easing a bit, when he heard Beijiao casually add, “I’m just using up our emotional capital.”
Jiang Ran thought, What emotional capital?
Too bad Song Die didn’t know the truth. He believed Beijiao’s solemn nonsense, and his face turned darker than charcoal, gloomy.
When Song Die got angry, Beijiao got happy. The boy chuckled lightly, revealing his gleaming white teeth, and after his victory, he added insult to injury: “But I think it should last us two or three years at least. No big deal.”
Hearing him talk increasingly nonsense, Jiang Ran couldn’t help but lightly slap his back and said, “We’ve only known each other for two or three—”
Heaven.
“Ran,” Zhao Keyan said painfully, “Just let it go.”
He recalled the director of student affairs from back in middle school, who had been so deeply moved by Beijiao that she cried like a tough woman. Before that incident, she had a nickname: “Iron-Hearted Widow.”
If the atmosphere wasn’t off, he would’ve even considered apprenticing under this junior—
Not to learn how to win over women.
But to learn how to conquer humans.
…
Zhao Keyan originally wanted to ski with Jiang Ran—after all, when people were skiing and not taking lessons, they usually preferred to play with someone more skilled, creating an atmosphere of progress.
But seeing Beijiao’s grim expression, he didn’t dare stick close to Jiang Ran anymore. He casually found a new little girl he had just met using his phone and went to the intermediate slope next door.
Before leaving, Jiang Ran even asked him, “Didn’t you want to go to the park?”
Zhao rubbed his hands together, grinning, and mentioned an unfamiliar name: “Chong Ge went to Changbai Mountain for training again.”
After he left, Beijiao asked Jiang Ran what the park was.
Jiang Ran pointed to the area next to the adjacent intermediate slope. The originally narrow slope was divided in half by a fence, with several differently sized jumps and rails on the innermost side…
As Jiang Ran pointed, Beijiao happened to see someone flying off a jump. At the highest point, the person tucked their legs, grabbed the back edge of the board, pulled it up, released it, and landed.
The people below the jump let out whistles and applause, the atmosphere quite lively.
“Stop staring,” Jiang Ran’s voice came inappropriately, “You won’t be able to learn it. Ask those park masters how many of them still have all their original body parts intact?”
“…”
“Parks are dangerous.”
“Carving is forever the god?”
Faced with his slightly mocking tone, Jiang Ran fell silent for a moment. So long that Beijiao thought she was angry. Finally, when he bent down a little strangely to look at her face, she raised her hand and lightly punched his shoulder: “If you control your speed appropriately and don’t act recklessly, it’s relatively safe.”
Beijiao didn’t take it seriously, just said “Okay”—
He wasn’t particularly attached to learning anything specific. After all, no matter what he did, he would first master the basics. Learning other things later wouldn’t be a big problem. (At this point, he naively believed that someone in a normal mental state would ride a directional carving board off a jump.)
After saying goodbye to Lao Yan, Beijiao spent two days learning the basic stance of directional carving, frontside push turns, and backside push turns.
He couldn’t link them together yet. The freestyle master who had praised him earlier shook his head—when switching from frontside to backside, his feet always felt unstable and unsteady. If at first he was faking falls for show and Jiang Ran had to pull him up, later he was falling for real.
After falling several times, he really got tired.
He had good athletic ability. Even when he impulsively took weekend skateboard lessons with others before, he had never fallen this badly.
Sitting by the slope, doubting his life choices, he was wondering how he couldn’t handle it—what would ordinary people do, especially those delicate little girls Jiang Ran mentioned?
As he was thinking, the girl who had just been holding hands with the freestyle master while descending backward happened to wobble past him. He instinctively wanted to see how she would fall—
But when he looked closely, he realized she had a green turtle-shaped butt pad strapped to her backside.
Every time she fell, she landed on that thick, soft turtle, which endured everything, as if it were being repeatedly sat to death.
…What a great invention. Who was the genius who came up with this?
As Beijiao was thinking, he felt a familiar presence approaching from behind, but he was already used to it and didn’t turn around.
Meanwhile, Jiang Ran had long gotten used to his style of suddenly ending up on the ground while skiing. She had already put on her board and, seeing Beijiao sitting on the ground again, slowly walked over with her hands behind her back, not sitting down, just standing behind him.
“She’s got a turtle on her butt.”
As soon as she stabilized herself, she heard the boy in front say, his tone filled with strange admiration.
“That’s basic protective gear,” Jiang Ran glanced in the direction his chin pointed, “Want one? I can buy you one.”
“No way. A real man wearing that? What would that look like?”
“Oh,” Jiang Ran replied with the same phrase, “What kind of man can’t even handle falling on his butt without showing off?”
…
Finally enduring until the lesson ended, Jiang Ran sat on a bench changing shoes and clothes, taking off her ski boots. She turned her head and saw the person sitting next to her was soaked—
He had already returned the rented ski suit, helmet, and shoes. Now he wore his own black long-sleeve hoodie, black sweatpants, all in black, hunched over obediently sitting beside her, spacing out.
Because he had fallen so hard at the end, snow had flown into his helmet, making his hair slightly damp.
At this moment, unaware that Jiang Ran was watching him, he took off his mask, shaking out the breath moisture and melted snow inside…
He found it a bit gross, frowned, scrunched the mask into a ball, and with a three-point shot, threw it into the trash can a few meters away.
Seeing the mask land in the trash can, he raised his hand and shook droplets from his hair—few droplets came off, but his jet-black hair became messier.
He really looked like a sleek, wet black stray dog.
“Want me to buy you a face gaiter? Masks let in snow, and when it melts, it sticks to your face in the fridge, cold and uncomfortable.”
Watching his fidgeting, Jiang Ran, for some reason, spoke with a surprising gentleness.
Beijiao was also surprised. He turned his head to look at her.
Jiang Ran raised her hand again and tugged one of his wet strands: “You should get a helmet too. The rented ones aren’t safe enough and let in snow. Others have worn them, leaving sweat and smells… Also, protective gear. The turtle isn’t pretty. How about a banana? Or Pikachu?”
Beijiao hadn’t expected this sudden change in her. He didn’t know if she was having one of those “wanting to spend money on someone” episodes again. Blinking, he asked her sincerely, “Did you just realize you were too harsh on me earlier?”
“…”
“Otherwise, why would you suddenly speak in this tone?”
The tenderness and pity Jiang Ran had felt for the stray dog instantly vanished. Her warm gaze disappeared as she blankly asked him, “I’m asking if you want it. Don’t talk so much.”
Beijiao turned his head away: “Why would you randomly buy me stuff? I don’t want it.”
Still quite principled.
Jiang Ran smiled and didn’t scold him anymore.
What was the point of arguing with him? She had plenty of ways to deal with him.
She waved to Song Die, who had just finished changing and was walking over.
Beijiao was startled.
He heard Jiang Ran, using the same gentle tone she had used with him, tell Song Die that she felt bad about having a little shadow tagging along during class and planned to buy him a face gaiter at the ski shop next door as compensation.
Song Die didn’t care much about something as cheap as a face gaiter. In his view, receiving a gift wasn’t a big deal, like someone buying him a milk tea—
He nodded, giving a very handsome smile, saying, “More or fewer people don’t matter to me. Strictly speaking, it’s not even class time, but thank you, sister.”
After Song Die finished speaking, Jiang Ran patted the seat on the other side, indicating he should sit.
She continued changing shoes, kicking off the second ski boot. When she looked up again, she noticed that Beijiao had already turned his body back around. Now those dark eyes were staring at her, looking deeply wronged.
She was secretly delighted, thinking this little brat was just too easy to manipulate.
Outwardly, she remained expressionless, tugging at the drawstring of his hoodie: “Looking at what? Are you going to wait for me, or go home by subway yourself… You can go back on your own if you want. The subway only costs a few yuan. Remember the address? Should I send you the location on WeChat again?”
She asked a string of questions.
Beijiao snatched back his hoodie drawstring.
Ten minutes later.
Huang greeted the laughing Jiang Ran and Song Die as they entered the store, about to ask where Beijiao was, when he turned his head and saw the teenager behind them, one hand holding the borrowed blue Shu ski board, the other in his pocket, clearly unhappy and sulking.
As they entered, Jiang Ran turned back and smiled at him, saying, “It might take a while because we don’t know which style Song Die likes. We’ll need time to choose. Is it okay if you get home late?”
The boy glanced at her and dryly said, “Shut up.”
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