CHAPTER 6: JADE DRAGON SNOW MOUNTAIN

The next day’s itinerary was Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. Standing at 5,596 meters, it is the southernmost major snow mountain in the Northern Hemisphere, renowned for its danger, wonder, beauty, and elegance.

On the way to the scenic area, the guide solemnly explained the dangers of altitude sickness, even giving a real-life example: a few years ago, a tourist hadn’t rented an oxygen bottle, fainted halfway up due to lack of oxygen, and was only saved thanks to being rushed to a hospital in time.

Ruan Zhizhi knew the guide was exaggerating, but with her poor constitution, she couldn’t help but overthink it. While others were renting just one bottle, she decided to request two.

Chen Jiayan, noticing this, immediately came over and whispered while the shopkeeper wasn’t looking:
“Zhizhi, let me tell you — the guides and shops are in cahoots. When you rent oxygen bottles or down jackets, the guide gets a cut. You actually don’t need any of this for climbing; it’s just to make tourists spend money.”

Ruan Zhizhi was slightly taken aback. Though she knew Chen Jiayan was being caring, the thought of going up Jade Snow Mountain without any preparation made her feel she’d end up carried down on a stretcher by medical staff.

The shopkeeper held out the two oxygen bottles, uncertain if she really wanted them, and asked again,
“Little miss, do you still want them? One bottle is fine too.”

Ruan Zhizhi turned her head, opening her mouth to speak, when a low, calm voice rang out in the air, measured and unhurried.

“Take both bottles.”

Chen Jiayan froze, unable to understand, looking at Shi Yan who had just walked in from outside. “A-Yan, why are you letting Zhizhi buy these useless things?”

“She looks like she isn’t in good health,” Shi Yan replied casually, casting a brief glance at Ruan Zhizhi before turning away. He walked over to a nearby vending machine as if he had no connection to the words he just spoke.

Only Ruan Zhizhi and Chen Jiayan were left, staring at each other.

“…You’re not feeling well?” Chen Jiayan asked.

“…A little,” Ruan Zhizhi admitted.

How did Shi Yan have eyes like a hawk? Even this he could tell?

Ruan Zhizhi muttered to herself for a few seconds before glancing over. She saw Shi Yan holding a newly purchased bottle of water, slowly weaving through the crowd.

People passed by in streams, but there he stood in his white down jacket, black hair neat and clean, so casually yet strikingly that he outshone the bustling crowd around him.

The breathtaking scenery of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, normally so mesmerizing, now seemed like nothing more than a backdrop to him.

Ruan Zhizhi stared blankly at his retreating figure.

Besides hiking, the only way to reach the summit was by cable car. After a brief internal struggle, Ruan Zhizhi decided that walking up herself would be more meaningful.

With her weak constitution, she had hardly participated in any sports classes since middle school, let alone hiked for two hours.

Almost an hour in, she was already gasping for air. The guide at the front was full of energy, explaining the scenery with a megaphone while walking at a brisk pace, making Ruan Zhizhi curse her own endurance.

Her legs felt like lead, every step a struggle. She paused, looking at the others in her group, who all seemed tireless. With a sigh, she was about to resign herself to continuing, when she suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“Guide, let’s take a break. I’m tired.”

It was Shi Yan.

Ruan Zhizhi’s gaze followed the group to him. Expressionless, he was looking at his phone, and when he spoke, his breathing remained steady, his face calm — yet he could casually say “I’m tired” without a hint of strain.

The guide, realizing he might have been walking too fast, especially considering the middle-aged professors in the group, told everyone to rest for a while. Those who wanted to take photos could do so; those who needed the restroom could go; everyone could rest.

Ruan Zhizhi exhaled in relief and quickly found an empty bench. She rubbed her aching calves, silently cursing Gu Nian for convincing her to come.

After a brief rest, she felt some energy return. She took a few breaths from her oxygen bottle and checked herself in a small mirror, making sure she didn’t look too disheveled before putting it away.

They were now at nearly 3,000 meters above sea level. In the cold winter air, the mountain’s high altitude made it thin and frigid. She wrapped her rented coat tightly around herself, but still shivered.

At that moment, she heard footsteps approaching from a distance. The sound grew closer until they stopped in front of her.

Ruan Zhizhi looked up, surprised to see Shi Yan standing before her.

He wore only his thin white down jacket, standing quietly. She had to crane her neck just to meet his eyes.

Neither spoke, and an inexplicable silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, he squatted down, removed his thick knitted scarf, and draped it around her neck before she could react.

“Feeling better?” he asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It was natural for him to notice she wasn’t feeling well, natural to give her his scarf in the freezing mountain air.

Ruan Zhizhi’s hand unconsciously went to the scarf, feeling the lingering warmth from his body. She bit her lip, about to refuse, but his next action interrupted her.

He crouched lower than her by half a head, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a blue lighter. With a soft click, he lit it in front of her.

Frowning in mild confusion, Ruan Zhizhi opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, only to meet his gaze unexpectedly.

Shi Yan’s eyes were dark, endless and unfathomable like the deep sea. Though cold and indifferent, there was a vague, shadowy emotion swirling in them, crashing toward her, leaving her utterly defenseless.

“Place your hands over it, it’ll warm you up. But don’t get too close, careful not to burn yourself.”

His husky, sexy voice carried a rare gentleness.

As if bewitched by the sudden softness, Ruan Zhizhi instantly forgot all the refusals she had prepared. She extended her hands, letting the fire warm them.

It was indeed warmer.

“Thank you,” she said.

Only then did she realize that since meeting Shi Yan, she seemed to be constantly thanking him.

The feeling was… unsettling.

Shi Yan nodded silently, said nothing further, and continued lighting the fire to warm her hands.

After a while, Ruan Zhizhi felt the warmth slowly returning to her body, spreading from her limbs to every corner. She hurriedly urged Shi Yan to stand up — after squatting in the same position for so long, he must be exhausted.

Shi Yan looked up, noticed the color returning to her face, and nodded before rising, his fingers instinctively slipping into his jacket pocket. Seeing this, Ruan Zhizhi kindly reminded him, “Smoking isn’t allowed in the scenic area.”

He paused at her words, then tilted his head slightly and said, “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.”

A polite smile was her reply. Ruan Zhizhi tightened her scarf around her neck, quietly pleased that he had said thank you — otherwise, it always felt like she was the only one inconveniencing him.

Although… she really had been the one troubling him all along.

The weather today was perfect — sunny and calm, with clear skies. Choosing to visit Jade Dragon Snow Mountain today was wise; only in cloudless weather could the summit be fully appreciated.

Shi Yan stood quietly to the side, hands in his down jacket pockets, his gaze drifting faintly toward the distant peak. His dark, profound eyes betrayed no emotion.

Ruan Zhizhi watched him, suddenly feeling as if he might vanish at any moment.

One second, he was gently helping her stay warm; the next, he seemed like a stranger, cold and distant.

This man… why was he always so impossible to read?

Just as the atmosphere between them became a little awkward, the ever-cheerful Chen Jiayan walked over.

“Zhizhi, are you okay? Do you feel unwell?” His gaze was full of concern.

Feeling a warmth in her chest, Ruan Zhizhi curved her lips into a small smile. “I’m fine. The oxygen bottles sold at the base really helped; I just took a few breaths, and I feel much better now.”

Chen Jiayan looked at her carefully, confirming she appeared healthy, then said, “I didn’t expect Shi Yan’s gloomy warning to be right. Luckily, you listened to him. If you had taken my advice and skipped the oxygen bottles… I’d never forgive myself.”

Hearing his overly serious tone made Ruan Zhizhi stifle a laugh. “It’s not that serious. I’ve always been physically weak — an old problem of mine. I’ll be fine.”

Perhaps because she rarely showed such unguarded smiles, Chen Jiayan was momentarily stunned. After a while, he came back to himself and lowered his voice to ask, “Zhizhi… can I ask you a personal question? Um… do you have a boyfriend?”

Ruan Zhizhi, just about to twist open a bottle cap to drink, froze. She could have sworn that Shi Yan, who had been observing silently nearby, glanced in their direction.

Pausing for only a second, she took a sip of water and calmly answered, “No. I’m used to being on my own.”

The moment she said she was single, Chen Jiayan’s eyes lit up. He opened his mouth, then seemed to reconsider and quickly added,
“Really? You’re so beautiful and kind; there’s no way you’d still be single.”

Ruan Zhizhi twisted the bottle cap back on and slipped it into her bag, responding nonchalantly,
“What’s the point of lying? If you know someone suitable, introduce me. My mom has been nagging me to date for two or three years already.”

She said it jokingly, just to lighten the slightly tense atmosphere. Unexpectedly, Chen Jiayan took it seriously and immediately volunteered himself:
“How about me? I’m twenty-eight, have a car and a house, and I’m attentive, patient, and loyal with women.”

Startled by his sudden declaration, Ruan Zhizhi looked at him with her usual playful grin, though her eyes held a trace of seriousness.

Li Sicheng had always spoken to her this way too — playful one day, professing dependence the next, only to leave with another girl, erasing her completely.

As Gu Nian had said, after four years with Li Sicheng, she felt less valued than a backup plan. A backup plan wouldn’t have been so devoted, always ready at his call, always discarded at will.

Chen Jiayan noticed her fleeting expression, realizing something, and his gaze dimmed. Quickly, he tactfully changed the topic:
“Ha, I was just teasing. Actually, Shi Yan’s not bad either. I’ve noticed he treats you better than those girls like Yan Rui. I’ve never seen him pay that much attention to any other girl. Honestly, I suspect he was possessed at the bar last night.”

Ruan Zhizhi, wrapped in her coat with hands tucked in her jacket pockets for warmth, felt her fingertips tremble unconsciously when Chen Jiayan mentioned last night at the bar. Her fingers brushed against the paper rose still in her pocket, making her heart flutter.

She bit her lip and blurted without thinking, “Enough, don’t try to pair me off. I already have someone I like.”

Her words instantly cooled the atmosphere.

Afterward, she deliberately lowered her head to fidget with her nails, inexplicably too nervous to look at Shi Yan’s eyes.

Strangely, they weren’t close. Aside from him helping her keep warm on the mountain, she owed him nothing.