Chapter Eighteen For Whom Was It Bought?

Realizing what she had just let slip, Shu Ran’s blooming smile abruptly withered. Fu Yiqing’s smile froze as well. As Shu Ran sank into a storm of self-reproach for her audacious words, another thought surfaced on her face: “I rarely see you smile, either.”

Shu Ran was momentarily taken aback, then the corners of her lips lifted. Yet Fu Yiqing looked at her with undisguised distaste. “You look terrible right now. Your smile is ugly.”

“…”

“So hurry up and get better, understood?”

In that instant, Shu Ran’s mood lightened, and she replied with conviction, “Understood.”

“You really are just a child,” he said.

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, those words left Shu Ran with a faint sense of loss. But she didn’t dwell on it. Sleepiness crept in, and she closed her eyes once more, letting pain dissolve into oblivion.

Her breathing gradually grew steady, eyelashes fluttering as she drifted into sleep.

Two hours later, Shu Ran awoke to find the heaviness in her lower abdomen had vanished. She immediately made to head for the skating rink, but Fu Yiqing stopped her, insisting her primary task today was to rest.

After dinner, he sent her back to her room to recuperate.

Returning to his own room, Fu Yiqing called Qin Liubei, who was still back in their home country.

“Why did you hang up so quickly this morning? And it sounded like there was no echo at your end.”

Fu Yiqing hadn’t expected Qin Liubei to be so perceptive. Rubbing his brow, he replied, “Shu Ran wasn’t feeling well today.”

“She’s unwell too?” asked Qin Liubei.

Fu Yiqing: “Who else is unwell?”

“Xu Jingyu, of course. She’s been running herself ragged these past days taking care of her mother. It’s a good thing I’m here with her, or she’d have ended up in the emergency room. What’s wrong with Shu Ran?”

Knowing how easily embarrassed Shu Ran got, Fu Yiqing deftly changed the subject. “How’s her mother doing now?”

“She needs to stay in the hospital for observation for a while longer, but it’s really just a formality. Once things are stable, I’ll be back—probably another couple of weeks. Xu Jingyu won’t be able to come to Canada for a while. Without me there for half a month, will you two manage?”

Fu Yiqing let out a short laugh. “You could always choose to stay there with Xu Jingyu.”

The implication was clear: your presence or absence makes no difference.

Qin Liubei snorted, “I think you just want to be alone with Shu Ran! The old bull after the young grass—what a beast.”

“You can skip the next month entirely, for all I care.”

“Come on, I was only joking,” Qin Liubei conceded first. “Alright, alright, my mistake. I won’t tease you two anymore.”

They didn’t talk much longer. Fu Yiqing showered, turned out the lights, and went to bed.

Yet no matter how he tossed and turned, he couldn’t fall asleep. The warmth Shu Ran had left in the bedding had faded, but a faint jasmine fragrance lingered on his pillow. His shampoo didn’t smell like that, so it could only be hers.

Whenever he closed his eyes, her frail form lying on the ice appeared in his mind.

The scent of jasmine hovered at the tip of his nose, elusive yet persistent.

His mind in turmoil, Fu Yiqing finally gave up, swapped pillows, and tried again.

This time, what surfaced was Shu Ran lying peacefully asleep in his bed.

Unable to calm his thoughts, Fu Yiqing threw off the covers and went to the bathroom for a cold shower to clear his head.

*

The next morning, Shu Ran awoke to find it was already seven o’clock. She felt a jolt of anxiety, rushed through her morning routine, and came out just in time to run into Fu Yiqing.

Driven by self-preservation, Shu Ran blurted out an explanation the moment she caught his eye. “Coach, I don’t know what happened. My alarm just disappeared from my phone. It was working fine the past few days.”

“I deleted it.”

“What?”

“Unlocked it with your fingerprint while you were asleep.”

Now Shu Ran finally understood why fingerprint unlocking was said to be unreliable.

The two walked out side by side. Shu Ran caught sight of the dark circles under Fu Yiqing’s eyes. “Coach, you’ve got bags under your eyes.”

He rubbed his neck as he replied, “Couldn’t sleep last night.”

This set off all sorts of scenarios in Shu Ran’s mind.

She’d slept in his bed last night, and Fu Yiqing was notoriously fastidious. In novels, men like him always had a touch of obsession with cleanliness. So there could only be one explanation.

He must have been so put off by her presence in his bed that he slept on the sofa instead. Otherwise, why keep rubbing his neck? Clearly the result of a night spent on a sofa too short for his frame.

“Coach, just have housekeeping change the sheets for you later,” she offered.

Fu Yiqing didn’t give it much thought. “Mm.”

Because Shu Ran was on her period, Fu Yiqing had her avoid strenuous activity, limiting her to a simple review of transitions between elements in her two routines.

She’d thought that after yesterday, things between her and Fu Yiqing might have eased a bit. But it was impossible to tell what he was really thinking. Between them, everything slipped back to the old “training only” dynamic.

*

After the morning session, Shu Ran was just leaving the rink when she happened to pass by Ye Xiang Zhiyuan.

Their practice times rarely overlapped these days, so Shu Ran seldom saw her. Even though Ye Xiang Zhiyuan had once given her tips on transitions, their relationship was little more than a nodding acquaintance.

Shu Ran paused, glancing back at her.

Fu Yiqing asked, “What is it?”

“Last time, Ye Xiang Zhiyuan gave me some pointers on transitions.”

“Did she?” Fu Yiqing replied blandly.

Shu Ran ventured, “Coach, is something wrong? You seem… different lately.”

“I am different.” Fu Yiqing shot her a sidelong glance, his tone serious. “Your short and free skate programs are solid, but your artistic expression is still lacking.”

Shu Ran’s gaze dropped guiltily.

That clear, ringing voice continued, “There’s only a month left. When we get back, there’ll be internal tests and the national championships.”

“Mm.”

At the entrance, they discovered it was raining.

Summers in Canada were dry; they rarely carried umbrellas.

Shu Ran reached out, letting the raindrops fall into her palm, cool and refreshing. “Why is it suddenly raining?”

The rain fell in a fine, unrelenting drizzle. It didn’t look like it would stop anytime soon.

Fu Yiqing stared into the distance, his gaze unfathomable.

Shu Ran took out her phone to check the weather forecast. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone dart into the rain. Turning, she realized Fu Yiqing had vanished from her side. Who else could that figure be but him?

“Coach Fu!”

He didn’t respond.

She called louder, “Fu… Yiqing! Fu Yiqing!”

Still no reply.

Faced with nothing but the gray, rain-soaked air, Shu Ran was bewildered.

When calamity strikes, everyone looks out for themselves—the ancients never lied.

She sat on the bench by the entrance, waiting for the rain to stop.

Her phone showed the rain would last another hour. She could wait a bit before heading out for lunch.

Just then, a voice message from Xu Jingyu popped up on WeChat. “My mom’s fine now. Did Fu Yiqing tell you?”

Shu Ran replied, holding down the record button, “He did. Still in the hospital? How long will she stay?”

Xu Jingyu: “Probably about a month, so I won’t be able to come to Canada. Everything going smoothly for you?”

Shu Ran: “Take good care of Coach Zhu. I’m fine—though it just started raining when I left the rink, so I’m sheltering outside.”

Xu Jingyu: “Where’s your Coach Fu?”

Shu Ran: “He abandoned me and ran off.”

“Who abandoned you?”

The voice came out of nowhere, so familiar that Shu Ran looked up in surprise.

Fu Yiqing returned through the rain, folding up an umbrella as he reached her. His clothes, soaked through, clung to his body, outlining his physique. Rain and mist blurred his face, droplets trickling from his hair. Gone was his usual air of refinement; with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, water ran down his jaw, lending him a strangely restrained allure.

Shu Ran’s finger slipped off the screen, sending her voice message. She stared dazedly at the man before her.

“You’re in a special situation and can’t get wet, so I went to buy an umbrella,” Fu Yiqing said.

He tugged at his damp shirt, frowning in discomfort. “Since you’re at a special time, you need to learn to take care of yourself. Remember to bring an umbrella when you go out. Don’t always rely on others to look after you.”

His words were tinged with impatience, and though he brought a chill with him, Shu Ran felt a gentle warmth blossom inside.

For a moment, the world fell silent. All that remained was Fu Yiqing’s stern, yet quietly caring words—so gentle, so… heart-stirring.

“Well? Are you coming? Or did I get soaked for nothing?”

Shu Ran lifted her chin, meeting his gaze before quickly looking away. She stood and moved to his side, preparing to walk with him.

Fu Yiqing said, “We have a twenty-seven-centimeter height difference. Sharing one umbrella isn’t possible.”

“Then why not buy two?” Did her coach want to save money?

“There was only one left.”

With that, he handed her the umbrella.

When he looked set to dash back into the rain, Shu Ran grabbed his hand. “It’s okay, you can bend down. We can walk side by side.”

“No need.”

Fu Yiqing disappeared into the rain again. Even drenched and disheveled, his back remained straight and strong.

Where her fingers had brushed his wrist, a lingering warmth seeped into her skin.

Shu Ran sensed a new fragrance on the air—a sweetness like fresh grass. It was as if a little deer in her heart had lost its way, running frantically in search of an exit, thumping against her chest.

Her period lasted nearly seven days, during which Fu Yiqing did his best to lighten her training.

Whenever she went to wash her hands, he’d remind her to use warm water, and to drink plenty of hot water.

After her period ended, he reverted to his usual sharp-tongued, demanding self.

When Qin Liubei returned, he claimed to have brought gifts for both of them and insisted on handing them out in person.

Shu Ran couldn’t help but complain, “I’m already Chinese. Why bring me gifts from China?”

Qin Liubei, rummaging through his suitcase, handed her a keychain. “But you’re in Canada now. Here, a keychain with a character you can only get back home.”

Suddenly, Qin Liubei pulled out a bag wrapped entirely in red.

At the sight of it, a flicker of embarrassment flashed across Fu Yiqing’s eyes. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be going now.”

“Don’t! Take the brown sugar and hot water bottle you asked me to buy,” Qin Liubei said, passing them over. “By the way, why did you need these? Is it cold?”

Fu Yiqing shot a glance at Shu Ran, and in that moment, she understood everything.

He’d gone out of his way to care for her, yet maintained his usual indifferent facade. Shu Ran felt her ears grow hot, and a slow warmth spread through her heart.

“For someone else,” Fu Yiqing said.

“Who?” pressed Qin Liubei.

The relentless questioning irked Fu Yiqing. His tone grew brusque. “A client.”