EGRV 46 | The Night Before

[Liang Muye, are you sure you know him?]

The night before the competition.

The venue chosen for this FWT qualifier in Whistler was, coincidentally, the Sapphire Bowl. The very place where Gao Yi had his accident last month. Worried that he might have psychological trauma, Chi Yu didn’t even ask for his advice. He found someone else to help him record his practice runs and saved them on his phone.

This time, the various “gem” bowls on Blackcomb Mountain had received about twenty feet of new snow. Visibility was poor, but the snow was excellent—dry and soft.

Unlike the snow conditions during the Diamond Bowl challenge, this competition had two main difficulties: how to control speed at the entrance to the bowl, and how to handle the sluff (sliding snow) kicked up by high-speed skiing.

Chi Yu had been training in seclusion for the past few days. He planned to recreate his performance from years ago at Corbet’s Couloir, doing a backflip directly into the steep and narrow entrance of the Sapphire Bowl, then quickly changing direction to escape the sluff from his landing, carving a new line, finding a rock to do a 360 grab, and finally skiing to the finish line with high speed, fluidity, and coherence.

It had been snowing intermittently for the past two days, so there was a higher tolerance for error on landings. After checking the weather forecast, Chi Yu chose to spend less time practicing aerial tricks and more time on powder skiing on steep slopes. Powder skiing is one of the most tiring types of high-performance skiing because it requires shifting one’s center of gravity backward, which is very demanding on the left leg. Freestyle skiers must be proficient in riding both regular and switch. Friday was supposed to be his “switch practice day”—he had a rule for himself to ride goofy-footed for at least one day a week. But to avoid over-fatiguing his left leg and causing an injury, he changed his plan at the last minute.

When he got home at night, after taking off his soaked-through compression pants, he would always stare at the healed scar on his left foot. The endurance of his left leg was still not as good as his dominant leg; it was inevitably sore and tired after a full day. But perhaps it was all in his head. Maybe, from a medical standpoint, his left foot had already fully recovered.

Liang Muye was a strange person. He seemed to really like this scar. He would always lift his ankle during sex and lower his head to lick and kiss it—or the small cut next to his left eye. Like last night…

Earlier, Liang Muye had called to tell him that he had bought a plane ticket back to China for next Tuesday. Chi Yu’s tone was calm as he asked if he needed a ride. Liang Muye seemed surprised by his calmness and was silent for a long while before saying, “It’s fine, no need.”

Chi Yu then said, “Then let me treat you to dinner tomorrow night.” But what he said wasn’t “treat you to dinner,” but “a date.”

Chi Yu had said, “I want to go on a date with you. Is tomorrow night okay?”

He didn’t know what he was thinking at the time. Perhaps it was for this one night, after which everything he possessed would disappear. He suddenly felt a kind of desperate courage.

Liang Muye also seemed not to have expected him to be so direct. He had just started to say that he had plans for tomorrow night that were difficult to change, then realized it sounded too much like a polite refusal. So he simply said “okay.”

“Okay, then how about tonight?” There was still a hint of laughter in his voice at the time.

Chi Yu said, “Then tonight it is.”

During dinner, they talked about very ordinary things: the Squamish team’s recent routes, what embarrassing thing Huang He had done again. Liang Muye showed him cute pictures of Zhong Lele, and Chi Yu showed him videos of his training from the past two days.

“This line looks fine,” Liang Muye said with a smile. 

“Everything looks good to me. I trust you. See how it goes tomorrow. If you see a better line, you can always adapt, right?”

Chi Yu nodded.

“I have to go to Old Zheng’s to pick up some equipment tomorrow, so I can’t come to watch. When you get back, let’s have dinner together again. My treat this time,” he said lightly.

But what would happen the next time they met—that script had already played out in Chi Yu’s mind countless times.

After dinner was finished, Chi Yu dragged it out for a long time, until half the people in the restaurant had left, before he finally raised his hand to call for the check. Liang Muye, probably thinking there would be a next time, didn’t fight him for it.

But the moment they walked out of the restaurant, Liang Muye naturally reached out and took his wrist. Just like that time they ran through the snowy parking lot, it wasn’t the kind of hand-holding where fingers intertwined, but rather a firm grip of a few fingers on his wrist. He seemed to like it this way.

Chi Yu instinctively recoiled his arm as if shocked by electricity. Liang Muye stopped, looked at him under the streetlight, and said seriously, “Didn’t you say it was a date?”

So Chi Yu extended his hand again. It was a ten-minute walk from the restaurant to the parking lot, and they held hands for ten minutes in this awkward posture.

Chi Yu stood silently in front of the mirror in his home gym, his cheeks burning. Last year, he had added a full-length mirror to the gym for training purposes; it was probably the best thing in his entire home. When they came back from the restaurant, this was where they had done it. The moonlight reflected their intertwined, naked, and well-toned bodies, as if they were made for each other from birth.

Over the past month, they had lost count of the times and places they had made love, but Liang Muye’s favorite place was actually Chi Yu’s home. He loved to press him against that wall of snowboards. With the overhead light off, the colorful graphics of the boards reflected a whole world—that was Chi Yu’s world, and he was at its very center.

He would brace himself against the wall with one hand, his back bent into a beautiful and resilient arc. The full-length mirror was placed at one end, and Liang Muye always made Chi Yu watch—watch his own thighs turn from white to red, flushed and ripe within minutes; watch desire surge as the hard penis moved in and out of his body. Until he started to feel it, craving deeper, harder thrusts, unable to even stand.

Chi Yu always looked away after a single glance, unable to bear it. The person in the mirror was insincere, greedy, and insatiable. No matter how many times, he was always astonished by this detestable face deep within his soul.

Thinking of this, he gave up and took off his clothes, planning to go to the bathroom and take a cold shower.

Liang Muye did have something on the next evening, and it really wasn’t easy to reschedule. He had arranged to visit Liang Yichuan’s grave with his father.

Liang Yichuan’s ashes were divided into two portions, one buried in Canada and one in China, just as he used to have two homes. For the burial site in Canada, Liang Jiansheng had chosen a cemetery near his residence, surrounded by lush green vegetation, full of life. From a window on the side of Liang Jiansheng’s large house, one could see this green space. Liang Jiansheng had said at the time, “This way, I can see him every morning.”

On the way back, the weather was still gloomy, and the two were particularly silent. They hadn’t talked about Yichuan’s passing together for three years, and now that they had the chance, neither spoke.

Liang Jiansheng was the first to break the silence. He sighed and said, “It’s such a pity. If it had been an accident on the mountain, I wouldn’t even…”

Liang Muye didn’t say anything.

“Why did he have to participate in that competition? It didn’t even award points, just some charity event.”

Hearing this, Liang Muye suddenly reacted. 

“What competition are you talking about?”

“Some environmental organization’s charity competition, I think. I don’t quite remember the name. I go to the training camp often and have barely heard anyone mention it. I even…”

Liang Muye cut him off directly, “WinterLasts? The freestyle challenge organized by the environmental foundation?”

Liang Jiansheng was surprised he knew and nodded in confirmation. 

“How do you know about this?”

It was quite a coincidence. It must be a coincidence, Liang Muye thought. Canada didn’t have that many freestyle challenges outside of official competitions anyway.

“Yeah, a friend of mine participated this year. This year… it was in Whistler.”

Liang Jiansheng glanced at him sideways. After a moment, he said, “That little boyfriend of yours?”

Liang Muye remembered the photo he had posted with Chi Yu at the top of “7th Heaven” last month. It was a perfectly normal picture, not intended to hide anything from anyone, so of course Liang Jiansheng had seen it. But for someone with a guilty conscience, they can see guilt in anything.

“He’s not some little boyfriend,” he said vaguely.

“It’s your own business, you just manage it well.” When it came to his sexual orientation, Liang Jiansheng’s attitude wasn’t very good.

He immediately retorted, “I’ve always managed it just fine.”

Liang Jiansheng didn’t respond directly, just said, “If Yichuan were still here…”

“If he were still here, then what? You’d have a normal son?”

When he came out to his whole family at nineteen, he had earned a “Walk out of this house, and you’re no longer my son” from Liang Jiansheng. Liang Muye was stubborn back then, so of course he stepped out of that door without taking a single penny from Liang Jiansheng. But after Yichuan’s accident, due to various external forces, their relationship had eased somewhat.

Today, after holding it in for three years, Liang Muye finally couldn’t hold back anymore. He let it all out: “Why did Yichuan secretly participate in that competition? Do you really not know the reason? He always wanted a word of praise from you, your approval. Are you sad for him, or are you sad for yourself?”

Liang Jiansheng’s face turned ashen at his words. 

“He liked skiing himself, it was his own idea.”

Liang Muye actually laughed. He said, “As long as you can deceive yourself. I’ve also met people who ski for themselves. Yichuan, back then, wasn’t like that. At least not entirely.”

His tone was aggressive, and Liang Jiansheng’s wasn’t friendly either. He also spoke without thinking, “It’s that little boyfriend of yours again.”

The air was thick with tension. In the sub-zero weather, Liang Muye rolled down the car window a crack. He felt like he was suffocating.

It was only today that he suddenly felt that all the efforts he had made out of goodwill were futile. He thought he was pitying Liang Jiansheng, but in reality, the other person had never accepted or truly seen him from the beginning. Liang Jiansheng’s self-deception regarding Liang Yichuan’s death was laughable. But regarding Liang Jiansheng’s attitude, wasn’t he also deceiving himself?

“Don’t be so disrespectful,” Liang Muye said. 

“You might not believe it, but there are people like this in the world. They don’t love money, they don’t love fame, they just love skiing. In the few weeks I’ve known him, for the first time, I’ve wanted to start shooting something new. I’ve even written a proposal…” Liang Jiansheng had always been troubled by his withdrawal from the outdoor photography circle; Liang Muye always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

But Liang Jiansheng didn’t continue listening. He interrupted Liang Muye and asked him directly, “What did you say his name was?”

Liang Muye was completely unaware and repeated, “Chi Yu. Yu as in ‘feather.’ He even won the WinterLasts challenge a couple of days ago.”

The car had arrived at the house. Liang Jiansheng opened the door and got out on his own. Liang Muye couldn’t quite understand his strange reaction and continued to say with great certainty, “I have my own plans. What you think is your own business. Whether you accept it or not, I don’t care.”

Liang Jiansheng suddenly turned his head and said to him, “Liang Muye, are you sure you know him?”