Chapter Thirteen: It Was Him

“If I ever find out who the bastard was that ate the longevity noodles I made for Shu Ran, I swear I won’t let him off,” Qin Liubei said through gritted teeth, glaring at Fu Yiqing as if he had already convicted him as the culprit.

Fu Yiqing remained unbothered. “Remember to close the door when you leave. This time it’s noodles, next time if anything goes missing at my place, you’ll have to compensate me.”

Qin Liubei’s lips twitched, struggling to suppress his anger, and he leaned close to Shu Ran’s ear. “That bastard really thinks I don’t know he stole the noodles I cooked?”

Shu Ran, herself one of the so-called bastards, felt a little conflicted. “You made the noodles?”

“Just as I thought—”

Shu Ran panicked for a moment, but Qin Liubei only whispered, “You saw Fu Yiqing eat them, didn’t you?”

Thank goodness.

Well, the noodles were meant for her anyway; she just ate them without Qin Liubei knowing.

After a moment’s thought, Shu Ran decided to let Fu Yiqing take the blame—after all, he was the one who took her away first.

“Yesterday, I just noticed he had soup stains at the corner of his mouth.”

In the days that followed, during training, Shu Ran often saw Qin Liubei deliberately or otherwise approach Fu Yiqing and suddenly say, “Some people eat the noodles and pretend they didn’t. Their skin grows thicker by the day.”

Fu Yiqing would glance at Shu Ran. “Indeed, some people are getting thicker-skinned.”

Shu Ran and Qin Liubei would exchange looks—hers was guilty yet knowing, his, knowing and full of disdain.

*

Xu Jingyu returned to City B before long, mainly because staying home meant inevitably running into relatives. Ever since starting college, she’d faced the annual ordeal of being pressed to find a boyfriend during every winter and summer break, and after starting work, the pressure to get married only intensified. The sooner she could escape their endless nagging, the better.

Training was rigorous and exhausting, its monotony only broken by the glimmer of hope found in incremental progress.

One day, after Shu Ran finished her on-ice training, Fu Yiqing told Xu Jingyu and the others, “It’s already May. Her technical skills have stabilized. There’s one month left for intensive training, and in June, I’ll take her to Canada for choreography.”

Xu Jingyu raised her hand. “What about me?”

“You’re coming too,” Fu Yiqing answered, always in control, every detail arranged.

Seeing that these plans didn’t include himself, Qin Liubei frowned. “And me?”

Fu Yiqing narrowed his eyes, as if plotting something. “I have a task for you.”

*

In truth, with Shu Ran’s current technical level, her best possible result in international competition would be on par with Liang Yue. But if her artistic presentation improved, she might even surpass Liang Yue’s scores.

During the month of intensive training, Shu Ran didn’t see Qin Liubei at all. Xu Jingyu, who had grown used to sparring with him daily, seemed a little listless.

The two of them couldn’t help but wonder what mission Fu Yiqing had assigned Qin Liubei.

Xu Jingyu analyzed seriously, “Think about it. What does Qin Liubei do best?”

“Data analysis.”

She clapped her hands. “Exactly—so I bet his mission is to gather intelligence… the old know your enemy and yourself, and you’ll never lose.”

Whatever Qin Liubei’s mission, Shu Ran’s monotonous training was about to come to an end.

But the end came sooner than she expected.

Early one morning, Fu Yiqing suddenly announced that she would be competing in this year’s Grand Prix. Shu Ran was thrown into a panic.

By rights, her points only qualified her for one Grand Prix event, but since this year the International Skating Union was running an experiment, she was allowed to choose two.

Which two events to choose became a major decision.

Given her current level, Shu Ran naturally wanted to avoid the stages crowded with top contenders—Canada and Japan among them—leaving four other options.

Her choices would affect her ranking; rankings meant points, and points determined whether she could enter the Grand Prix Final.

Seeing her anxious expression, Fu Yiqing said, “Don’t worry, I’ve already chosen for you.”

She looked at him eagerly. “Which two?”

“China and France.”

Shu Ran let out a sigh of relief. These were good options; she’d competed in China last time, and among the six stages, France was relatively less competitive.

Fu Yiqing’s arrangements gave Shu Ran some confidence, though she failed to notice the strange look in his eyes.

Summer often signals the end of a season. It was now the off-season, and athletes typically used this time to relax or create new programs.

Shu Ran’s schedule was too tight for a break. The moment intensive training ended, Fu Yiqing took her abroad to work on choreography.

Xu Jingyu left for Canada ahead of them, while Qin Liubei remained absent.

As soon as they landed, Shu Ran was surrounded by foreign tongues and unfamiliar airport announcements. Though she had travelled abroad before, she still felt uneasy and out of place.

Since New Year’s Eve, her relationship with Fu Yiqing had softened. She no longer feared his coldness or distance. With him present, she felt more at ease.

So, she stuck close to him.

“Aren’t you curious who I found to choreograph for you?” Fu Yiqing asked, piquing her interest.

“Who?” she replied.

“Belus.”

“Oh.” Shu Ran turned her head away, then did a double take. “Wait, who did you say?”

Her expression froze, suspicion written all over her face.

If it was the Belus she was thinking of, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Fu Yiqing added, “There’s only one men’s singles skater in the world who’s won three consecutive Olympic golds. If not him, who else would I come all this way for?”

Belus hadn’t just won three Olympic titles in a row; he still held the men’s free skate record and was the founder of the Belus Step. He was a legend in figure skating history.

For a figure skater, this was the highest honor.

Thanks to Fu Yiqing’s diversion, Shu Ran’s anxiety was replaced by a buzzing excitement.

This might be the closest Shu Ran had ever come to an Olympic champion.

Once in the car, Fu Yiqing fell silent. Shu Ran realized he’d been deliberately distracting her to calm her nerves.

A strange sense of security enveloped her.

Fu Yiqing glanced at her. “What is it?”

Shu Ran shook her head and gazed out the window as the warm wind tousled her hair, a smile tugging at her lips.

*

By late June, the Canadian summer was in its early stages. The weather wasn’t too hot yet, but the warmth was on the rise. For Shu Ran, who spent most of her time skating on ice, these temperatures were just right—she preferred winter to summer, though she knew she’d change her mind come the colder months.

The rink Fu Yiqing had booked was popular with professional skaters during the off-season. Once the media arrived, hotel rooms nearby would be hard to come by. Xu Jingyu had arrived early to reserve accommodations.

Even so, they were a step too late.

The nearest hotel had only two rooms left.

“Maybe we can squeeze together?” Shu Ran suggested.

Fu Yiqing dismissed the idea. “We’ll be here for two months. If you squeeze in for two months, will you have any energy left for training?”

Xu Jingyu took Shu Ran by the arm. “He’s right. Rest is essential for recovery. You’ll already be exhausted from training during the day—poor rest at night will only make it worse. Don’t worry, I’ve already contacted a hotel two kilometers away. They still have rooms. I’ll stay there with Qin Liubei—it’ll be safe.”

“You two can share tonight. Qin Liubei won’t arrive until tomorrow.”

With that, the matter was settled.

The first day, thanks to jet lag and fatigue, Shu Ran and Fu Yiqing stayed at the hotel to rest. Belus would arrive the next day.

Shu Ran spent the entire day in bed.

*

A crowd had gathered outside the rink, most holding microphones and cameras.

Xu Jingyu frowned. “What’s going on? Is there a celebrity here?”

“Maybe… a star athlete,” Shu Ran replied.

She’d run into such scenes before, but today the media presence seemed overwhelming.

Xu Jingyu’s eyes darted. “Is it an Olympic champion?”

Shu Ran murmured, “It really is—someone who’s won three times in a row.”

“What? Who?”

“My choreographer—Belus. Though that was ten years ago.”

Xu Jingyu’s mother, Zhu Xinhui, was a skating coach, so Xu Jingyu occasionally gave dance tips to young skaters in City D. But that didn’t mean she knew much about skating history. Even after learning their choreographer was Belus, she hadn’t grasped the significance.

Xu Jingyu was about to exclaim again when Fu Yiqing shook his head. “There are foreign reporters among them. That logo’s from an American network.”

Belus was Canadian, so if word got out he was choreographing for an athlete, one would expect mostly Canadian journalists. Yet there were people of different skin tones mingled in the crowd.

Clearly, they weren’t here for Belus.

“Then who…”

A girl with a black backpack, sun-protective jacket, and baseball cap appeared, her dark attire making her stand out in the early summer light.

Beside her was a burly man.

Tall and short, stout and slim, one cold as ice, the other fierce-looking—they immediately drew the media’s attention.

“They’re here! They’ve arrived!” The journalists surged forward.

An otherwise quiet street was suddenly awash with noise.

Amid the commotion, Shu Ran thought she heard someone calling her name. She turned, only to feel an arm slip around her shoulders.

Qin Liubei, watching the crowd, said, “According to my data, there are two skaters training at this rink: Chihara Yeka from Japan and Rollin from Italy.”

“It’s Chihara Yeka,” said Fu Yiqing.

The newcomer, with her distinctly Asian features, was clearly Japan’s Chihara Yeka—a famous ladies’ singles skater and a veteran at 22 years old.

Shu Ran hadn’t expected to run into a top contender the moment she went abroad, and nerves fluttered in her chest.

Fu Yiqing spoke quietly. “Didn’t you say this rink wouldn’t attract top skaters?”

“Come on, Lao Fu, how was I supposed to know Chihara Yeka’s old rink would be closed for renovations? I did predict Rollin’s club switch, so I calculated a 50% chance she’d come here. Even if she did, her schedule would mostly miss Shu Ran’s, which is why I chose this place.”

Listening to their exchange, Shu Ran and Xu Jingyu traded glances.

So Qin Liubei’s mission was to track where the elite athletes would train during the off-season.

With things as they were, Fu Yiqing could only accept it.

“What about Belus?”

“He heard there’s a good dessert shop nearby and went to get something.”

Qin Liubei and Xu Jingyu went off to find him.

Shu Ran and Fu Yiqing waited at the rink entrance. She couldn’t help asking, “Are we avoiding top athletes because you’re worried I’ll feel inferior after watching them?”

“That’s only part of it.”

“What else?”

Fu Yiqing pressed his lips together, hesitating. After a few seconds, he looked at her. “What figure skater hasn’t heard of Belus? If the top contenders see he’s your choreographer, they’ll pay closer attention to you. But now it’s too late… Shu Ran, can you handle being watched by the best?”

To the elite, only rivals and themselves exist. To be considered a rival by them, you have to be on their level.

Shu Ran was not one of them.

Fu Yiqing wasn’t just afraid she’d feel inferior—he also worried she’d become nervous and her training would suffer.

Shu Ran replied, “I can.”