At the ski resort’s summit, inside a cable car.
A man and a woman occupied the entire cable car. Two park-specific snowboards hung outside, trembling slightly in the morning breeze. Inside, silence reigned.
The girl who had arranged lessons with Shan Chong through Huayan was named Huhu. She was staying at a hotel near the base of the ski resort. They had agreed to meet for lessons at the summit early this morning. Shan Chong had gone down the mountain to collect new protective gear from the equipment shop owner and picked her up on his way back up.
Today, they were scheduled for a two-hour lesson, costing 12,000 yuan.
For other instructors, 12,000 yuan would conservatively cover about twenty lessons.
But when Huhu first stepped out of the hotel lobby and saw the man leaning against a Beijing BJ-30 car, smoking, she felt the money was well spent.
[White Fox: I got a lesson with Shan Chong!]
[White Fox: Crying! It wasn’t in vain that I came to Chongli. The 3,000 yuan flight was worth it! He’s just as handsome as in the videos, aaahhh!]
[White Fox: No, he’s even more handsome.]
[White Fox: What should I say to him? Should I jump straight into discussing the lesson? Wouldn’t that be too stiff?]
While excitedly texting her friends, she kept sneaking glances at the man sitting opposite her. He was leaning back in his seat, relatively relaxed, holding his outdated iPhone 7 with one hand, slowly moving a finger across the screen.
She wondered who he might be texting.
After finishing his message, he stared at the screen for a moment. Whether the other person hadn’t replied or for some other reason, he clicked his tongue impatiently, furrowing his brow slightly.
His finger swiped across the screen a couple of times, presumably switching to a different chat. He brought the phone to his lips: “You’re at the mid-mountain slope today, right? Ask in the group if anyone’s on the advanced run. Tell them to keep an eye out for anyone who shouldn’t be there.”
A few seconds later, the phone chimed with a new message.
Shan Chong tapped it, and a rough, masculine voice crackled through the phone’s worn-out speaker: “Yeah, what’s up, Master? I’m at the mid-mountain slope! Who? Who shouldn’t be on the advanced run?”
Shan Chong pondered for a moment.
“The current holder of the turtle butt pad.”
He paused, then added, “I have a lesson today, so she went by herself. If you see her on the advanced run in your area, have someone bring her down.”
The advanced run at the mid-mountain slope was on the mountainside, not too steep, with a long stretch along the mountain without safety nets.
Experienced riders usually didn’t take beginners there.
But novices going alone could easily take a wrong turn and end up there. One wrong move, and they’d crash into a tree.
They wouldn’t die.
But they might not escape being carried down the mountain by the rescue team.
After arranging this sabotage, Shan Chong switched back to check another chat. The girl’s avatar was lit up. He opened it to find a listless “Okay, thanks,” the perfunctory tone practically leaping off the screen.
His cautionary message had sunk like a stone.
He began to wonder if his tone had been too gentle, leading to a lack of authority and his words being ignored.
Putting away his phone, he finally looked up calmly at today’s student. Although he had been looking down at his phone, he could feel her intense gaze on him for quite some time.
The moment their eyes met, he saw the girl’s eyes light up.
Shan Chong: “…”
Shan Chong: “Learning lines?”
Shan Chong’s words were concise.
This opened the conversation.
Huhu sat up straighter and began to enthusiastically describe her learning progress: “Yes, I came to Chongli mainly to learn lines. I’ve been practicing various grabs on the trampoline, and I’ve tried melons on the dry slope air cushion, but I can only do melons. I can’t fully rotate…”
She wasn’t speaking quickly, but it was enough for Shan Chong to start zoning out after a couple of sentences. He raised an eyebrow and interrupted her, focusing on the key point: “Have you done melons on real snow?”
Huhu shook her head.
Before Shan Chong could respond, the cable car arrived.
Shan Chong exited first, grabbed his board, and headed towards the entrance of the advanced B run leading to the park. After a few steps, not hearing the “tap tap” of footsteps beside him, he habitually glanced back. The girl following him, carrying her board, was quite tall with bright pink hair that shone brilliantly in the sunlight.
Shan Chong: “…”
He turned back without waiting for her to catch up and continued walking.
At the entrance to the advanced run, he efficiently strapped on his board and descended the advanced B run. He instructed Huhu to ride in front while he silently followed behind. After about ten minutes of riding, they reached the park entrance.
As Huhu turned around, she caught sight of Shan Chong performing a nollie 360, landing with a small pivot to come to her side. He glanced up at her and said flatly, “To be honest, I think you’re entering the park too early.”
Huhu: “?”
“It’s better to master basic riding before entering the park. Otherwise, progress is slow, and the tricks you manage to do won’t look good. It’s pointless,” he said emotionlessly. Without considering how cold and cruel his words might sound, he nodded towards the park, “Go on, small jump, no tricks, just straight air.”
Huhu: “…”
Before Huhu could react, he had already entered the park.
He went straight for the small jump, riding straight, approaching the takeoff, his body stretching into a taut bow as he launched. He jumped high, nearly twice the height of the small jump at his apex. He tucked his legs, grabbed his board, and executed a forward 720, landing smoothly.
A beautiful and textbook-perfect line 720 was completed, as if by a cold, emotionless snowboarding machine.
Shan Chong stood at the base of the one-meter jump, hands behind his back, balancing on his toe edge. He nodded towards the girl standing at the park entrance: “Your turn.”
Huhu: “…”