Chapter 114: Live Broadcast Scene

A press conference was out of the question.

After all, Shu Ran’s current abilities hadn’t yet reached the level of a world-class champion; holding a press conference would be far too ostentatious.

But with today’s convenient communication technology, even without a press conference, everyone could still see for themselves.

Though Fu Yiqing understood that training alongside the team helped Shu Ran relieve stress, for the time being, she was still staying at his villa.

“Well then, here’s to a pleasant collaboration,” he said simply.

A few brief phrases ended the conversation.

Fu Yiqing put away his phone, his gaze settling on Shu Ran downstairs. As he descended the stairs, he said, “I’ve contacted the platform. Over the next couple of days, marketing accounts will promote the news that you’re about to go live and answer netizens’ questions.”

Shu Ran nodded.

“No way, are you really going to livestream?” Qin Liubei asked skeptically.

Shu Ran shrugged. “What else? Should I appear on a variety show to clear my name?”

If she appeared on a show, the chances of being accused of whitewashing her image would be high. Compared to that, a livestream—unscripted and entirely reactive—would allow her answers to come closest to the truth.

Qin Liubei shrugged. “Fine, then livestream it is.”

Fu Yiqing sat down and began advising Shu Ran on the precautions she should take during the livestream.

Qin Liubei chatted with Xu Jingyu on WeChat while listening to their conversation.

When there was a long silence from the other side, Qin Liubei said, “Honestly, if you really want to clear your name, I’m not opposed to trying for you.”

Fu Yiqing shot him a sharp look.

He had lost his spirit again, abandoning the idea of learning marketing tactics.

Three days later, the livestream began as scheduled.

Fu Yiqing had even paused Shu Ran’s morning training for this.

Shu Ran took out the device she had prepared early that morning, propped her phone in front of her, aiming it at her face. As soon as she started, ten thousand viewers flooded into the room—an excitement comparable to that of a popular idol.

Shu Ran exclaimed, “Wow! People are here right away!”

Qin Liubei immediately burst her bubble. “Those are all zombie followers. Every livestream has them.”

Shu Ran didn’t understand livestreaming. She rubbed her temple. “Are zombie followers really that many now? Over ten thousand?”

Their conversation was heard by the viewers, and the comment stream quickly filled with messages.

“No no no, they’re Ice Fans! Everyone’s here because they heard the news!”

Shu Ran was puzzled. Just a few days ago, most netizens were attacking her. How come now the screen was filled with declarations of support?

Being inexperienced with livestreaming, Shu Ran often drew a blank facing the camera. She quietly watched the comments for a minute before finally speaking.

“Everyone, please ask questions—about my injury, after it happened, or even before. Anything’s fine.”

Netizen: “Why are you suddenly livestreaming? People say you want to whitewash your image.”

Shu Ran: “I decided to livestream after reading the Weibo comments the past couple of days. Everyone was tearing into each other simply because they didn’t know the full story. So I figured I’d just answer questions live.”

Netizen: “Can you tell us what the real story is?”

Shu Ran scratched her head, frowning with a headache. “That’s a big topic. Seems like I have quite a few skeletons in my closet. Where should I start?”

A user’s message scrolled across the comments: “Start from when you got injured. When did it happen, and how serious was it?”

Shu Ran read the question aloud before answering. “Okay, I’ll start with that.”

She began by explaining how she sprained her ankle from overtraining, and went all the way through to her withdrawal from the Winter Olympics.

Just as she said at the beginning, she left almost nothing out—including why she disappeared from the competition scene for two years.

Soon, another netizen hit the mark: “Now that you’re back, is your injury fully healed?”

Shu Ran furrowed her brows. “You could say it’s healed, but not completely. Many athletes live with injuries for life.”

Upon hearing this, many viewers sent “heartache” comments.

Shu Ran waved her hand with a light laugh. “No need to feel sorry for me. Every athlete gets injured. The only difference is how serious the injury is. Usually, as long as it doesn’t seriously affect competition, you have to keep going—constantly competing, reinjuring yourself, rehabbing, competing again, and repeating the cycle.”

Viewers noticed a distinct quality in her speech: sincere attitude, warm tone, as if chatting with a friend. Several potentially tragic injury details were casually glossed over, including the time she re-injured her metatarsal fracture.

In a moment, the skeptical netizens adjusted their mindset.

The detractors who originally tuned in hoping for scandal found no explosive revelations and quietly exited the livestream. Left behind were viewers who began to speculate freely.

Netizen: “Was that the coach speaking just now?”

Hearing Shu Ran’s confirmation, Qin Liubei stepped forward, and suddenly an additional figure appeared on screen.

“Hello everyone, I’m also considered Shu Ran’s coach,” Qin Liubei said.

Fu Yiqing emerged from the study, catching sight of Qin Liubei taking over the livestream, while the star of the show was left to the side.

“*Ahem*—”

Hearing the cough, Qin Liubei continued answering questions. “Yes, that cough you heard was Shu Ran’s coach, Fu.”

Fu Yiqing shot Qin Liubei a warning look, and he reluctantly stepped out of the frame.

Before leaving, he reminded Shu Ran, “If anyone asks about me, let me know.”

The comment stream erupted with “Get out now!” messages.

Fu Yiqing walked behind Shu Ran to check the livestream and read the comments aloud with a laugh, “They’re all telling you to leave.”

Shu Ran echoed, “If you don’t leave soon, they’ll probably say ‘get lost’ next.”

Qin Liubei snorted coldly. “You two are ganging up on me.”

The purpose of the livestream quickly shifted away from clarifying doubts.

The screen only showed Shu Ran and the upper half of an unseen man, but the familiar male voice already stirred the audience's hearts, igniting their enthusiasm.

The comment stream was flooded with pleas: “Please, Coach Fu, show your face!”

Shu Ran leaned halfway over, tugging on Fu Yiqing’s sweater with her right hand. “Coach, they want to see you.”

Fu Yiqing looked down at her, brows slightly furrowed. “This is your livestream, not mine.”

Shu Ran knew that well, but seeing the comment section utterly taken over, she pleaded helplessly, “Just let them see you. They’re not interested in watching me right now.”

His eyelashes flickered—he seemed to be contemplating whether to appear on camera.

Shu Ran clasped her hands together, blinking, lips pursed slightly, preparing to launch her next round of charm offensive.

Fu Yiqing sighed softly, circled around the coffee table, and sat down to Shu Ran’s left.

The viewers grew ecstatic.

“Aaah—so handsome! Even from this deadly angle, he looks amazing. Must be heaven’s reward!”

Most streamers position their cameras to shoot from above, but Shu Ran, unfamiliar with angles, set the height casually, so her face was level in the frame. Fu Yiqing’s upper body was slightly taller, so from this angle, he was shot from below—a notoriously unflattering perspective.

After being alerted, Shu Ran adjusted the stand so Fu Yiqing could look straight at the screen.

The comments scrolled too fast for Fu Yiqing, who frowned and leaned in slightly to read.

“Coach, do you have a girlfriend?” someone asked.

Fu Yiqing’s face darkened. “Sorry, if everyone is just chatting aimlessly, I will have to end the livestream.”

Qin Liubei burst out laughing. “Old Fu, Shu Ran’s still trying to clear her name, and you’re only making it worse for her.”

Shu Ran hurriedly smiled at the screen. “Don’t mind him. My coach always talks like this. Besides, today he’s here to help answer your questions. I didn’t train this morning because of it.”

“*Ahem*—” Fu Yiqing covered his mouth with a clenched fist, coughing gently. His expression softened from earlier coldness. “If you have any questions about figure skating, ask Shu Ran now.”

With Fu Yiqing’s appearance, the livestream finally took a proper direction.

As expected, Shu Ran trended on Weibo the next day.

Headline: Shu Ran’s Livestream.

After two years and two months, Shu Ran finally appeared on Weibo again, her mood nearly anxious.

She had resolved that if netizens still held grudges over her Winter Olympics withdrawal, she would simply disregard it and focus on training hard on the ice—that was what mattered most.

She clicked into the trending topic.

@Tian Huihui Bu Fei: “Before, when netizens were obsessed with Shu Ran’s ‘Ice Enchantress’ image, I didn’t pay attention. But when she withdrew from the Winter Olympics and the news exploded everywhere, I had no choice but to notice. Still, I felt it wasn’t my business and didn’t care much. Many people online were bashing her. When I saw she was going to livestream, I was curious to see how she’d try to clear her name. After watching the livestream, the girl seems quite innocent—not as complicated as people imagined. Before this, she hardly appeared on variety shows, at most a couple of interviews. Compared to other sports stars who flood reality TV, she’s a pretty low-profile athlete. Her only major black mark is withdrawing from the Winter Olympics. But think about it—wearing shoes that don’t fit is uncomfortable to walk in; imagine having to perform difficult moves on injured feet?

She also said she stopped treatment before the Olympics and switched to painkillers just to compete. You might think she had recovered, but she was actually getting pain-blocking injections to endure it. By her second competition, the injections had worn off. People who haven’t had pain-blocking shots don’t know how painful they are—I have, so I understand. This shows how serious her injury was. Nowadays, if you tell the truth, people call it whitewashing. But don’t forget, the girl has relied on her skills to compete all along, not online hype.

I didn’t speak up before because I didn’t understand. Now that I know the truth, let’s stop the conspiracy theories. Athletes aren’t celebrities. And if Shu Ran does well, she brings honor to our country’s figure skating scene, right?”