"One..."
Shiqi gripped his crutches, a familiar, blood-pumping adrenaline rising within him, the likes of which he had only ever felt on the battlefield.
"Two..."
The wind whistled past his ears. Shiqi’s gaze was locked on the bottom of the slope; for a fleeting moment, the entire world narrowed down to that tiny patch of land.
"Three!"
Two figures shot forward like arrows released from a bow.
The thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins accompanied the perfect arcs carved into the snow. Each turn seemed precisely calculated, kicking up a mist of powder.
Cheng Yun had rushed to the bottom of the slope early, lying prone on the roof of the village head’s house to watch the spectacle. He had brought along hemp rope, just in case someone needed an urgent rescue. Ping'an, the village head’s son, had climbed up with him, but he simply couldn't believe it when he heard that Cheng Nuo and Shiqi intended to ski down the slope from the old elm tree.
Are they kidding? If a person rolled down from up there, the force alone—they’d be buried in the snow before they even hit the bottom, tumbling into a giant, helpless snowball.
Cheng Yun stood up, cupping his hands over his eyes. In the distance, he spotted two dark figures beside their elm tree. "Look! There they are!"
Ping'an peered over. Sure enough, two people were standing on the slope. "If they actually slide down from there, won't someone get killed? I need to go get my father..."
He was only halfway through his sentence wh…
Chapter 142