Chapter 36

The vacation villas came equipped with their own private ski resort, just a short ten-minute drive from the villa district.

When Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang announced they were heading to the ski resort, Yu Jiayuan, Shen Ru, Yang Yi, and Zhou Yan perked up with interest and decided to tag along.

Before they set off, Jing Li checked in with the remaining four via the WeChat group. Zhou Shi and Chen Xiaohan planned to catch up on some sleep—they hadn’t rested well the night before, still adjusting to the new surroundings.

Yu Miyue was due to start a national tour with her dance troupe in mid-April. As one of the lead dancers, much of the choreography revolved around her, so skiing was far too risky. An injury would spell disaster.

Lang Yan was keeping her company, and the two intended to take a leisurely stroll through a nearby scenic spot.

In any case, neither of them was widely recognizable. Even with cameras in tow, passersby would at most peg them as influencers, stealing a few extra glances if they were particularly curious.

Jing Li read their replies and pocketed his phone. “Just the six of us, then. They’re sitting this one out.”

Shen Ru nodded. “Alright, let’s get going.”

The program team’s vehicles came courtesy of one of the brand sponsors. Yu Jiayuan did a quick on-camera intro before climbing aboard. Six people wouldn’t fit in a single car, so they split into two, with Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang taking one for themselves.

Jing Li volunteered to drive. Ji Yunzhang smiled faintly and slid into the passenger seat.

The scenery along the route was stunning. The program team deployed a drone, sending it aloft to capture sweeping aerial shots of the towering snow mountains:

Endless layers of peaks stretched beneath a pristine blanket of snow, their summits shrouded in swirling clouds and mist. Only the main peak pierced boldly through the haze, standing tall and defiant.

The ten-minute drive flew by, and soon they pulled up to the private ski resort.

To ensure the safety of the guests and any visitors, the program team had booked out the entire facility. Aside from staff and ski instructors, it stood empty.

Ji Yunzhang politely turned down the staff’s assistance and personally selected a pair of skis for Jing Li. He’d been passionate about this as a teenager, and with his family’s wealth, he’d tried just about every sport under the sun. Jiang Mengshan hadn’t been wrong—he really knew his stuff.

Though private, the resort was open to the public, so the gear wasn’t the best. Ji Yunzhang sifted through the options meticulously until he found a decent pair and handed them to Jing Li.

“Skis?”

“They’re simpler for beginners than a snowboard—easier to stay balanced, and you can get back up faster if you fall.” Ji Yunzhang met his gaze. “If you want to learn snowboarding later, I can teach you.”

Jing Li didn’t mind either way. He nodded agreeably, clutching the skis with delight. His eyes locked on the nearby slope, brimming with anticipation. “Come on, Teacher Ji, let’s go.”

Ji Yunzhang chuckled. “Alright.”

They made their way to the slopes and found the beginner practice run. Following Ji Yunzhang’s guidance, Jing Li positioned the skis sideways across the hill, then used a herringbone step to climb up.

With flat ground at the bottom, he had no trouble keeping his balance, and the skis didn’t threaten to slide backward.

Like most newcomers, though, the sensation of feet hovering off the snow felt unnerving—no solid ground beneath him. Instinctively, he tensed, convinced a fall was imminent.

Ji Yunzhang stayed right by his side, instilling a profound sense of security.

Ji Yunzhang glided effortlessly on his own skis, as steady as if strolling on level pavement. He kept pace with Jing Li, his voice gentle and patient, flowing like a tranquil stream to soothe away Jing Li’s primal unease.

“Plant your poles in the snow, alternating with your steps. Glide slowly, feel the skis beneath you, keep them parallel…”

Jing Li focused intently, easing into the skis using the technique he’d been taught.

The practice was monotonous and tedious, but Ji Yunzhang never showed a hint of impatience. He stayed with him throughout, always within arm’s reach. That simple fact steadied Jing Li’s heart.

Suddenly, a sharp scream pierced the air from nearby. Jing Li jolted in surprise, losing his balance. He braced for the impact—only to tumble safely into steady arms.

Ji Yunzhang helped him regain his footing. “You okay?”

Jing Li’s heart pounded fiercely, whether from the fright or from the secure embrace of Ji Yunzhang’s hold. He jammed his poles into the snow, took a steadying breath, and murmured, “Yeah.”

He glanced over to see Shen Ru, the source of the scream. She and Yu Jiayuan had rolled into a tangled heap and now sat sprawled on the ground, likely rattled from a hard fall as they caught their breath.

Yang Yi and Zhou Yan, both experienced skiers, had been practicing higher up the slope. They slid down at the sound and checked on them. “You two alright?”

Shen Ru shoved her goggles up onto her forehead and shook her head. “Fine, just stings a little. I’ll shake it off.”

Yu Jiayuan fussed over her waist and legs—she’d hurt them once on a film set. He questioned her thoroughly, and only once he was certain she was truly unharmed did he fully relax.

Jing Li shuffled over to join them, Ji Yunzhang close at hand. Shen Ru and Yu Jiayuan flashed reassuring smiles and waved them off. “We’re good, really.”

With that, everyone breathed easier.

Jing Li resumed practicing on the flat at the base for another seven or eight minutes until he’d fully acclimated to the skis. Deeming him ready, Ji Yunzhang began teaching him how to brake.

“Braking is generally done with an inner snowplow or a parallel turn.” Ji Yunzhang walked up the slope a short distance, then slid back down, demonstrating both techniques.

He reminded him once more: “When braking with the inner snowplow, make sure the tips of your skis don’t touch, or you’ll fall easily.”

Jing Li watched intently, then practiced again. Ji Yunzhang stood beside him, correcting his posture.

After about ten minutes of braking practice, Ji Yunzhang led him to try the slope proper.

Practicing on the actual slope felt entirely different. Jing Li tried to climb up using his ski poles like before, but it was no use. The skis slid downward on their own, forcing him to lean back unconsciously as he struggled to keep his balance.

Ji Yunzhang grabbed hold of him and chuckled softly. “You can’t go straight up like that. You have to sidestep or use an outer snowplow.”

With that, he stepped into his skis and demonstrated for Jing Li.

Jing Li gave the outer snowplow a try, but it felt tricky. He hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it and still slid backward, so he switched to sidestepping up instead. It was slower, but far simpler than the outer snowplow. Using this method, he slowly worked his way up the slope.

About halfway up, Jing Li paused to catch his breath. Once he had, he turned to Ji Yunzhang with deadpan seriousness and delivered a terrible pun: “No wonder crabs get so tired when they walk.”

Ji Yunzhang burst out laughing.

Jing Li grinned too. He raised his gloved hand and flashed a cheerful peace sign. “Let’s keep going.”

At long last, he reached the top. Jing Li peered down and realized the beginner slope was genuinely gentle. He relaxed a little. Ji Yunzhang then taught him how to control his speed, how to avoid falls, and—most importantly—how to fall correctly. No one learned to ski without taking a few tumbles; it was unavoidable. Jing Li knew as much and paid close attention.

Once the lesson wrapped up, Ji Yunzhang stayed with him, practicing up and down the slope over and over.

Thanks to Ji Yunzhang’s help, he never fell on this beginner run. Ji Yunzhang always caught him or held him steady. That said, Ji Yunzhang warned him that the slope’s gentle grade kept speeds low on the way down, making it easy to catch him. Steeper slopes wouldn’t be so forgiving.

Jing Li’s eyes crinkled behind his goggles, his voice light and upbeat. “It’s fine. I’m not scared of falling.”

“It’ll hurt.”

“Not scared of that, either.”

To prove his point, Jing Li went down alone on the next run, without Ji Yunzhang following. He sidestepped to the top by himself, then stood there waving down at Ji Yunzhang. He adjusted his goggles and pushed off. The first part went smoothly, but he lost control of his speed toward the end and shot straight to the bottom—where he promptly fell.

Jing Li protected himself using the technique Ji Yunzhang had taught him, so the fall wasn’t bad. His butt stung a little, that was all. Ji Yunzhang hurried over, pulled him to his feet, and looked at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation. He didn’t know what to say, so in the end, he just tapped Jing Li’s forehead and shook his head helplessly. “You…”

Jing Li tilted his face up to meet his gaze, his smile bright and radiant.

~~~

They spent the entire morning on that beginner ski run.

Jing Li had a natural knack for sports and picked things up quickly. By the time noon approached, he was gliding up and down the run with ease, having fully mastered the basics.

It was getting late; they needed to head back. Still, Jing Li wasn’t ready to call it quits. “Let’s come back tomorrow,” he said to Ji Yunzhang.

The ski resort closed early, at three in the afternoon, and after lunch, the program team still had two tasks lined up. There wouldn’t be time for another session.

Jing Li wanted to return, so Ji Yunzhang had no reason to refuse. “Sure.”

~~~

After lunch and a brief rest, the group reconvened at the visitor center at one thirty.

The second task was another test of spousal rapport: a timed quiz from the program team. Each partner had one minute to answer questions on their board, with no hints allowed.

As the morning game’s top scorers, Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang went first.

Jing Li clutched his board as he sat facing Ji Yunzhang.

Guan Lin asked, “Are you two ready, teachers?”

“Ready,” they replied in perfect unison.

One voice light and lilting, the other deep and languid.

Guan Lin smiled. “You two really are in sync.”

“First question: What food does Teacher Ji hate most?”

It was a gimme. Jing Li scribbled his answer and flipped the board: Tomato, cilantro.

Ji Yunzhang’s lips quirked in the faintest smile as he revealed his: Tomato, cilantro.

Both had beautiful handwriting. When the episode aired, the editors would juxtapose the boards with a caption: Even their handwriting is a perfect match.

“Second question: What dish does Jing Li hate most?”

Jing Li: Stir-fried bitter melon.

Ji Yunzhang: Stir-fried bitter melon.

“Third question: Who confessed first?”

Jing Li: Teacher Ji.

Ji Yunzhang: Me.

Though Jing Li had originally suggested the script could have him confess first, Ji Yunzhang hadn’t gone that route. Instead, he’d written a tale of mutual attraction—with himself taking the initiative.

This answer had some real appeal. Guan Lin propped her chin on her hand. “Let’s gossip a little for all the fans and netizens out there—what was Teacher Ji’s heart-fluttering moment?”

The others leaned in, ears perked, brimming with curiosity and gossip as they watched the two men.

Ji Yunzhang gazed at Jing Li, the corners of his lips curving up, his eyes filled with incredible tenderness. “Every single moment.”

There were cameras everywhere, along with staff and guests all around. Even though Jing Li knew Ji Yunzhang was just putting on a show, that one line still sent his heart racing, heat flooding his cheeks.

He snatched up the answer board and hid his face behind it.

But Guan Lin wasn’t letting him off the hook. “Jing Li, is Teacher Ji really that good at sweet talk?”

Jing Li lowered the board, revealing his flushed face—which only made him even more captivating. Shen Ru couldn’t help blurting out, “So beautiful.”

Chen Xiaohan and Yu Miyue nodded in unison. “Super beautiful.”

Jing Li had already reined in his emotions, though the blush still lingered on his cheeks. He spoke earnestly and sincerely. “Teacher Ji is really good at coaxing me.”

From the moment they’d met, Ji Yunzhang had always showered him with praise and compliments, leaving him blissfully happy.

That was why he could always be so relaxed and joyful around Ji Yunzhang—no need for pretense or worry. He knew Ji Yunzhang would accept him, respect him, and never put him down.

How could he not fall for someone like that?