Ski Into Love (Hush, the king is hibernating) [Requested]

Part 102

Chapter 102: From Now On, The King Won't Attend Early Court

In certain social circles, there's often one person who takes on the role of the crybaby – the one everyone comforts and pampers.

In Wei Zhi's circle, that person was Wei Zhi herself.

In Shan Chong's circle, before Wei Zhi's appearance, that role belonged to Shan Shan.

Shan Shan was an odd character.

From childhood, she was the type to burst into tears at the mere sight of a passing dog.

Throughout her life, the list of things that made her cry included but wasn't limited to, flying cockroaches, cicadas, the neighbor's Alaskan Malamute, and a seemingly homeless pregnant cat in their residential complex.

The Shan family matriarch would often say with a smile, "It's not about spoiling. We raised Shan Chong and Shan Shan the same way – same formula, same rice. Yet the siblings turned out to be opposites."

Shan Shan grew up as a little princess, perpetually bathed in tears.

Even with a runny nose, she knew how to use her tears to coax the last piece of candy from her brother's hand.

As a child, Shan Chong once suspected his sister might have been switched at birth.

As for their resemblance, he rationalized it with what he learned in middle school biology – due to shared traits, even a dog would come to resemble its owner after a few years.

This doubt persisted until the siblings, just learning basic arithmetic, embarked on their ice and snow careers – one on ice skates, the other on a snowboard.

Shan Chong remembers it was a frigid winter day with heavy snowfall.

Having just joined the provincial team, he was returning home late from training.

Exhausted and cold, he finally made it home through the blizzard, only to find an empty house instead of his parents cooking in the kitchen or his sister doing homework at the coffee table after her training.

The stove was still warm, with half-cooked stew and raw potatoes in the pot.

From the neighbors, Shan Chong learned of his sister's training accident.

His family had rushed to the hospital, only managing to leave a message with the neighbors for him.

At the hospital, from the end of the corridor, Shan Chong saw the doctor shaking his head at his parents outside the emergency operating room, mentioning something about "focusing on saving her life."

Shan Chong wasn't clear on the exact events of that day.

He only remembers the operating room light staying on for a long time.

The surgery, initially expected to take five or six hours, lasted nearly ten.

When Shan Shan was finally wheeled out, a nurse called out loudly, "Is Shan Shan's family here?"

The nurse's voice, full of energy, startled Shan Chong awake from his half-sleep outside the operating room.

Shan Shan reappeared.

His sister, who had been lively and energetic that morning, now lay on the hospital bed, pale as paper.

Below her waist, the white bedsheet collapsed ominously where her legs should have been – her left leg below the knee and her right leg from the thigh down were gone.

Shan Shan had already woken from anesthesia.

Looking at her parents and brother gathered around her, she didn't shed a tear.