Chapter 40—Does Cheng Beigu Like Fu Jiaojiao?

Shao Ping let out a quiet sigh; this was clearly a case of shooting himself in the foot.

He dragged his feet as he edged away from Mu Ran, stealing a furtive glance at the screen, where Gu Beicheng’s handsome, restrained face was displayed in all its aloofness. His thoughts began to grumble; both of them had top-tier skills—so much so that even he, a national athlete, had to admit defeat.

But when it came to aerial technique or board grabs, Mu Ran was still not as polished as Cheng Beigu…

“Speak.”

The smile had long vanished from Mu Ran’s cold and elegant face, leaving only a glint of icy sharpness in her narrowed eyes.

Shao Ping lifted his chin, lips drooping, and took a deep breath. “Sister Mu Ran, to be honest, you’re still more impressive.”

“The truth.”

“Cheng Beigu is a bit better. There’s a difference between men and women—whether it’s physical strength or directional control. But Sister Mu Ran, your takeoff and spins on the halfpipe just now were undoubtedly the best among all female freestyle skiers worldwide.”

With his words finished, Shao Ping took another deep breath, his gaze wandering as he cautiously watched for Mu Ran’s reaction.

Mu Ran merely sneered, the arch of her brow sharp, her aura fierce. “Who says women are inferior to men? I don’t believe my skills are less than Cheng Beigu’s.”

“But there really is a difference between male and female athletes—for example, the limit for spins. Female athletes can never match male athletes in that,” Shao Ping muttered, though he spoke the truth.

At last year’s Winter Olympics big air competition, the best female result was a forward double backflip with a 1440-degree spin. The men’s best was a switch double backflip with a 1800-degree spin.

Whether in strength or overall physical ability, there is always a gap between male and female athletes in any competition.

Mu Ran glanced at Shao Ping, who stood aside looking wronged. She didn’t respond; he was right. In some areas, men’s physical prowess surpassed women’s, but it didn’t mean everything.

“Shao Ping, care to compete against me?”

Mu Ran squinted at the halfpipe ahead. Just as she saw Fu Jiaojiao preparing for a grab, a mocking smile curled on her lips.

“No, I won’t compete with you.” Shao Ping was genuinely anxious. If Mu Ran insisted, he couldn’t refuse—but he’d certainly lose.

After all, he was a national athlete and a world silver medalist; he hoped she’d spare his dignity. If a national athlete lost to an entertainment star, it would be a laughingstock—especially since this show was live and unedited. The thought alone was terrifying.

Mu Ran said nothing, her lips curling into a sly smile, a hint of schadenfreude in the arc. “Sister Mu Ran, what are you looking at?”

“I’m watching Fu Jiaojiao push her limits—growing too fast for her own good. Shao Ping, you’re a judge. Shouldn’t you be watching everyone’s technique? Why are you spacing out?”

Mu Ran crossed her arms comfortably, nudging the boy beside her with her elbow. Her voice was crisp and pleasant, but to him, every word brooked no argument—just as strict as when she used to train him.

Shao Ping pouted in protest. Clearly, she was the one talking to him…

“Relax. As long as you know the gap between us, that’s enough. Don’t keep harping on about women being inferior to men. Don’t forget when you used to…” Mu Ran left the sentence hanging.

Shao Ping finally relaxed. He followed Mu Ran’s gaze back to the slope.

Fu Jiaojiao, the woman in question, was now lying face down in the snow, motionless.

“What happened? She wiped out in the blink of an eye? I thought from her takeoff she was about to pull something big.”

Shao Ping returned to Gao Minglang’s side, glanced at the replay, and buried his face in his hands before bursting out laughing. “What was that? Why didn’t she use her poles? Her descent was so obviously beginner—I thought she was something special.”

“What? I thought Fu Jiaojiao was really good! She’s a novice?” Assistant director Chen Liang hurriedly led several crew members onto the course, rushing to the woman still lying in the snow.

“Fu Jiaojiao, are you alright? You knew you were a beginner—why didn’t you wear protective gear!” Several onsite medics moved in to check her over.

Chen Liang, out of the camera’s line of sight, rolled his eyes at Fu Jiaojiao.

Of all the troublemakers in the production team, Fu Jiaojiao was the worst.

Before they went to the slope, the directors had repeatedly checked for novices, insisting all inexperienced guests take proper precautions. At the time, Fu Jiaojiao had looked down on everyone, acting as if she were above it all, making everyone think she had some talent.

Who knew she’d turn out to be such a rookie.

“I’m fine, just help me up,” Fu Jiaojiao muttered, eyes lowered, as the medics removed her helmet. She was mortified—what a humiliation!

Chen Liang caught sight of her flushed ears, his gentle tone edged with annoyance. “Jiaojiao, snow sports are dangerous. If you lack experience, you have to tell us. Never risk getting hurt.”

“Understood.” Fu Jiaojiao’s voice was muffled. She glanced up just in time to catch Mu Ran smiling at her from afar, sending her mood plummeting even further.

The teary grievance in Fu Jiaojiao’s eyes turned instantly venomous. Why could Mu Ran do it, but not her?

Mu Ran’s moves had looked effortless, so why had she lost her balance the moment she tried to jump?

That wretched Mu Ran!

It had to be bad luck.

Fu Jiaojiao still hadn’t realized Mu Ran’s true skill; jealousy and frustration only deepened her resentment.

“Director Chen, I’m not feeling well. I’d like to rest for a bit.” Fu Jiaojiao couldn’t stand Mu Ran but she wasn’t stupid enough to confront her on live camera.

She sat in Chen Liang’s seat, watching the live broadcast. When she saw the audience comments, her anger soared, clouding her mind with fury.

On the screen:

“Fu Jiaojiao is hilarious—so bad yet so eager!”

“I really thought she was as awesome as Mu Ran!”

“I can’t stop laughing—Fu Jiaojiao must be an idiot!”

“Mu Ran not using poles is skill; Fu Jiaojiao not using poles is just stupidity!”

“What’s the deal between Mu Ran and Shao Ping???”

“Cheng Beigu’s rival appears!”

“As a ski fan, I think Cheng Beigu’s skills are wasted as a coach.”

“A coach? Maybe he trains national athletes!”

As viewers ridiculed Fu Jiaojiao, none imagined she was sitting before the screen, face flushed, fists clenched, wishing she could throttle her critics.

But as an actress, Fu Jiaojiao was used to public pressure. This time, she could only swallow her pride.

As she quietly read some of the comments about Cheng Beigu, she caught a glimpse of the man himself approaching.

Her heart fluttered—was this man coming over out of concern after seeing her fall?

She stood to greet him. “Mr. Cheng, are you here to check on me? My arm hurts a little.”

She stretched out her arm, her voice as soft as cotton.

Gu Beicheng looked down with cold eyes at the annoying woman blocking his path. A cold smile tugged at his lips. His tall figure loomed over her, outlined by the backlight.

Fu Jiaojiao dared not speak; the man’s aura was dangerous. “Mr. Cheng?”

Cheng Beigu was far superior to Bai Zehan in looks and presence. Fu Jiaojiao didn’t dare hope for too much, but now that he’d approached her, perhaps he’d realized the true character of that scheming Mu Ran.

If she could date this man and have him teach her to ski, she’d certainly surpass Mu Ran!

Excitement welled up in her as she gazed infatuated at the impossibly handsome man. “Mr. Cheng?”

He said nothing, coming even closer.

Standing by the chair, Fu Jiaojiao felt his oppressive presence and sank into the seat.

She never expected the man to lean in, his refreshing scent enveloping her.

Fu Jiaojiao squeezed her eyes shut. It seemed Cheng Beigu really liked her—he was so bold, so unreserved…

She waited in silence, anticipating his lips. But after half a minute, he made no move.

Opening her eyes, she found Gu Beicheng’s gaze cold and contemptuous, hawk-like as he stared down at her. He parted his thin lips. “The way you fell just now looked like a dog eating…”

He sneered.

In his eyes, she saw only her own pitiful defeat.

“If you overestimate yourself and provoke her again, you won’t be able to bear the consequences.” With that, Gu Beicheng picked up her pink thermos from the table and walked away.

“Lunatic!”

Fu Jiaojiao shrank into the chair, unable to shake the menace of his glare. She knew exactly who “her” referred to—Mu Ran!