The uninvited guest had vanished without a trace.
Wei Zhi angrily withdrew her gaze, spitting twice as if to ward off bad luck. She rubbed her nose and lifted her head, intending to continue complaining. However, she was utterly stunned when she saw the person before her.
The man who always dressed in black like a crow had now become a snowman.
The snow wall that had suddenly risen had engulfed everything, and the person who shielded her in his embrace became the final barrier. Snow covered his broad shoulders, back, and helmet at this moment. The stark white against the black background created a shocking contrast.
Snowflakes clung to his eyelashes, yet he seemed completely unfazed. He didn’t appear angry either.
By now, people on the ski slope had noticed the commotion and were looking over curiously from afar. After all, spraying someone with snow wasn’t typical behavior unless it was friends playing around or posing for photos. Unprovoked snow attacks usually indicated either a serious illness or a deep-seated grudge.
Yet the person responsible hadn’t even paused to offer an apologetic glance.
Judging from Shan Chong’s silence and the oppressive atmosphere, Wei Zhi recalled how he interacted with his real friends:
He spoke little.
He commanded respect.
But he certainly never radiated an icy coldness like he’d just crawled out of a frozen lake, like some Night’s King.
So it was obvious that what had just transpired fell far outside the realm of “friendly play.”
No one spoke. Wei Zhi broke the silence first.
“Snow is about to fall into your collar,” she said.
Gone was her usual chirpy, energetic tone. The young woman lifted her ski goggles, furrowing her brow with rare seriousness.
As she spoke, she removed her gloves. With warm hands, she gently brushed away the precarious clump of snow at the edge of Shan Chong’s collar.
Her soft, uncalloused fingertips lightly grazed his tense neck.
The unexpected warmth made Shan Chong instinctively recoil slightly.
“Don’t move,” Wei Zhi mumbled.
She tugged at his sleeve, signaling him to stand still. Rising on her toes, with her ski tips deeply embedded in the snow, she stretched out her arms. Carefully, she brushed the snow off his helmet, shoulders, and hair.
Soon, her fair hands turned red from the cold, her fingertips tingling from contact with the ice.
She didn’t seem to mind, focusing intently on her task. As she carefully reached around the man’s shoulders, trying to pat away the snow from the back of his neck and face guard…
Suddenly, her wrist was grasped without warning.
The slightly damp, thin glove gripped her wrist.
The icy touch startled her. Simultaneously, the grip on her hand tightened imperceptibly.
“I’ve told you before, the wind is strong on the mountain,” the man’s voice was low and slightly hoarse, devoid of much emotion. “Don’t take off your gloves carelessly.”
Though his words were admonishing, they surprisingly lacked any harshness.
This is usually a fierce and acerbic person…
Unexpectedly, his mood seemed to have shifted.
It was as if the earlier gloom had suddenly dissipated.
Those within his small sphere of influence could breathe freely again.
Wei Zhi stood there with her hand raised, somewhat bewildered. She couldn’t quite understand how someone’s aura could change so quickly, or if her radar was malfunctioning.
While she was in a daze, the man, seemingly accustomed to her occasional disconnection, sighed and retrieved her gloves hanging from her elbow, helping her put them back on.
As her fingertips slipped back into the still-warm gloves, the discomfort of cold numbness receded like an ebbing tide, warmth returning to her body.
“Shall we continue?” she heard him ask near her ear.
Wei Zhi responded with an “Oh,” grabbing his wrist and resuming her forward-edge pushing stance. After a moment’s hesitation, she fixed her gaze on the zipper of his snow jacket and cautiously spoke up.
“Um,” Wei Zhi asked, “that person just now, do you know them?”
“Mm,” he replied.
The expected resistance didn’t materialize, nor did he reproach her for meddling. His answer was remarkably calm.
“Do you have a grudge?”
“No.”
Shan Chong’s voice indeed sounded as if he were discussing someone completely irrelevant.
“Just someone I knew in the past.”
As if everything that had just occurred was merely an anecdote, Wei Zhi tugged at his hand and began her halting forward-edge push. Her mouth wasn’t idle either. “Where did you meet such an impolite person?”
“Mm, I apologize.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“If the child is not taught, it’s the father’s fault.”
“…”
How could there be someone in this world with such incredibly sharp verbal skills?
So much for “not getting angry after being covered in snow”…