Chapter Twenty-Three: Far Too Careless

The quiet ice rink echoed with the sound of Shu Ran’s blades scraping across the surface, the teeth of her skates grating against the ice as the young attendants cleared away stray shavings. The audience’s enthusiasm, once ignited by Luo Lin’s performance, had long since faded. Shu Ran lifted her gaze. Scattered spectators sat far from her, their expressions blurred by distance.

Though her mind still wrestled with whether she would one day face the same predicament as Luo Lin, Shu Ran forced herself to calm down, assuming her starting pose. The music poured forth like molten gold, light yet tinged with a gentle sorrow.

In her past artistic training, Shu Ran never truly understood how to interpret classical music; everyone brought their own perspective, and expressing what others deemed the “correct” feeling was a rare feat. But at that moment, she suddenly realized: she only needed to convey her own understanding of the melody. Because when performance and music align, viewers naturally grasp the performer’s interpretation.

She executed a seamless spinning sequence, rising from a crouched rotation, kicking her leg, finally transitioning into a blade-held arabesque.

The next move was a 3T-2F combination jump. Suddenly, Shu Ran recalled Luo Lin’s jump—the sound of bones breaking echoed loudly in her mind, and a wave of primal fear swept over her.

Off the ice, Fu Yiqing remained expressionless, though his gaze had deepened noticeably. No one noticed his hand, clenched tightly at his side.

Shu Ran did not fall. She snapped out of her fear, altering the combination jump into a single 3T instead.

From then on, she made no major mistakes. At last, she struck her finishing pose in time with the music, ending her routine.

The spectators’ faces were subdued, and as Shu Ran glided off the rink, she found herself unwilling to look at Fu Yiqing.

They embraced lightly. Qin Liubei followed with a hug, gently patting her back in encouragement. “You did well. Everyone’s nervous at their first competition.”

Shu Ran thought to herself that this was hardly her first competition, but with the media nearby, she swallowed any retort.

In the scoring area, the three sat side by side.

With yesterday’s short program and today’s free skate, her total score was 182.14.

Fifth place overall.

Though she had expected little chance for a medal, Shu Ran knew exactly what mistakes she had made today.

It was almost comical; yesterday, Fu Yiqing and Qin Liubei had discussed which competitors might pose a threat, only for her to stumble on her own.

Still, fifth place was currently the best result among the national women’s singles team.

On the way back, Wu Huihui and Jiang Wanru kept congratulating Shu Ran.

At the dormitory entrance, Wu Huihui and Jiang Wanru, along with He Ming and Huo Guang, got out of the bus first. Shu Ran was about to follow when Fu Yiqing called from behind, “Shu Ran, wait. I have something to say.”

The atmosphere inside the bus suddenly chilled.

Qin Liubei’s gaze flickered between them, then he forced a laugh and stood up. “Oh, I just remembered—Xu Jingyu called earlier. I’ll go outside and return her call.”

Once he left, silence descended like a shroud.

“Since your routine ended, you haven’t looked at me once.”

Shu Ran had braced herself for a scolding, but this unexpected opening left her stunned.

His sharp eyes fixed upon her. “What are you guilty about?”

Shu Ran pursed her lips, lifting a hand to scratch her temple. “I didn’t skate well.”

Fu Yiqing nodded in response. “Your state was off. Even on the ice, you were distracted. Your attitude wasn’t right.”

“Your technical elements were better than usual, but your artistic expression wandered with your spirit.”

Indeed, Shu Ran’s free skate score was mostly held back by her PCS—the program component score—which measured artistic expression.

“PCS for newcomers is never high at first, but if you don’t perform, the score will always be low.”

Shu Ran lowered her head in shame, remaining silent for a long time before whispering, “I can’t forget the sight of Luo Lin leaving in a wheelchair.”

Fu Yiqing’s gaze softened as he finally understood.

She was afraid.

Every athlete knows that persistence doesn’t guarantee medals, but it does ensure injuries for life. Yet, despite this knowledge, the desire for gold makes everyone gamble with fate. But seeing such tragedy firsthand is another matter entirely.

If it was fear, Shu Ran’s performance was understandable.

“Every skater on the verge of greatness carries wounds. Luo Lin traded her ability to walk for four minutes on the ice, earning today’s stage victory.” Fu Yiqing paused, a complicated look in his eyes. “It was never easy from the beginning. If you want to go on, you must give one hundred percent…”

Shu Ran’s round eyes stared at Fu Yiqing, dazed, as if bewildered.

“Um…” she interrupted, “Coach Fu, I’m not thinking of quitting. You don’t need to persuade me.”

Fu Yiqing: “…”

“You’re not afraid of ending up like Luo Lin?”

“I actually hope for an outcome like hers.” She stuck out her tongue.

To win a championship, to earn the audience’s recognition, to gain everyone’s respect—such an outcome was far preferable to letting her youth waste away.

Fu Yiqing understood what she meant, frowning. “Don’t say nonsense. You can win medals, but you won’t have the same fate as her.”

Shu Ran replied obediently, “Okay.”

“Coach.” She called softly, “I didn’t perform well. Why aren’t you scolding me?”

“Would scolding help?” Fu Yiqing replied. “Besides, I’ve said before—this season, our goal is to build up points. Your performance today was better than I expected.”

Shu Ran looked at him in shock.

Just how low were Fu Yiqing’s expectations for her?

Fu Yiqing chuckled at her expression. “You were distracted, but you still knew to switch the combination jump to a single. Getting smarter?”

She blinked, staring at him in a daze, feeling that today Fu Yiqing was unexpectedly empathetic.

*

The emergence of men’s singles skaters had brought public attention to figure skating, but the women’s division remained largely ignored.

Yet Shu Ran had just achieved fifth place at the Grand Prix China, adding to her earlier silver at the Lombardia Trophy. Sports journalists were eager to report on this rising star.

At this rate, Shu Ran might even qualify for the Grand Prix Final.

Fu Yiqing, however, turned down all interviews.

What destroys a person’s drive most? Not slander or bullying, but praise.

Shu Ran was easily influenced by outside voices; even Luo Lin had made her fearful of the future. So, at Fu Yiqing’s insistence—

Shu Ran entered closed training.

Amid the intense regimen, the Warsaw Cup began.

After every break, Shu Ran needed an adjustment period. She treated the Warsaw Cup as another adaptation event, ultimately finishing fifth.

The result wasn’t ideal, but she had no time for regret, as the Grand Prix France was already on the schedule.

Their group returned home for training, then hurried off to France.

Some star athletes used a single program for two seasons, but typically the short and free programs lasted an entire season.

On the first day, Shu Ran was unfamiliar with the rink and performed poorly in the short program, placing fifth.

This was just as Fu Yiqing had anticipated.

Yet on the second day, with the free skate, Shu Ran, now familiar with the venue and reassured by Fu Yiqing’s reminder that they were only there to build points, felt no pressure and expressed the lightness and comfort of the music with greater ease.

In the end, Shu Ran won the bronze at the France event.

That sense of ease carried into the third day’s exhibition skate.

*

The exhibition skate featured all competitors from the four events performing for the audience. As it wasn’t a contest, the routines were relaxed and any mistakes didn’t matter. For most skaters, exhibition day was the happiest time.

This included the morning’s exhibition rehearsal.

Only during rehearsal did athletes from different countries have a chance to mingle. But due to language barriers, most still chatted with their own teammates.

After rehearsal, everyone was playing on the ice.

Shu Ran leaned alone against the barrier, mentally reviewing her routine, when a hand tapped her shoulder.

It was Zhu Hongzhe, the national team’s men’s singles skater, only a year older than Shu Ran but already a world champion and a bronze medalist at the Winter Olympics. The entire country’s impression of figure skating stemmed from his stellar Olympic performance last year.

He had taken first place at this France event.

“Shu Ran, why are you here alone?” Zhu Hongzhe squinted mischievously, a teasing smile on his lips. “Are our women’s singles skaters excluding you?”

He glanced at Liang Yue and Jiang Wanru, who were chatting with a foreign athlete.

Shu Ran thought: Liang Yue’s exclusion was real, but Jiang Wanru, though friendly, was a peacemaker who tried to smooth things over for everyone and pleased no one. Shu Ran knew she and Jiang Wanru would never truly click.

Shu Ran replied, “I’m just reviewing the exhibition routine.”

“Come on!” he exclaimed. “It’s only an exhibition, everyone treats it as fun. If you rehearse so hard, the audience gets tired too.”

Zhu Hongzhe grabbed her wrist enthusiastically. “Come, you’re too solitary. Let me introduce you to some friends.”

Before Shu Ran could protest, he pulled her into the lively crowd of her peers.

“Hongzhe, you’re holding her hand like that—be careful, the cameras might start rumors!” Chen Lecheng, another men’s singles skater from the national team, said with mock seriousness.

Zhu Hongzhe glanced around, spotting several domestic TV cameras trained on him.

Shu Ran expected he’d let go after Chen Lecheng’s comment, but instead he raised her hand high, waving openly at the cameras.

Shu Ran: “…”

Chen Lecheng: “Hey, couldn’t you be a little more discreet?”

Zhu Hongzhe: “You don’t get it. Innocence speaks for itself.”

With Zhu Hongzhe’s cheeky grin, Shu Ran couldn’t help but laugh, shaking with amusement. The three, close in age, quickly became fast friends.

Liang Yue turned around, seeing Shu Ran with Zhu Hongzhe and the others, and her face fell. “What a show-off, standing alone just to attract attention.”

Jiang Wanru overheard and retorted, “Liang Yue, you used to dislike her for holding the team back. Now she brings honor to the team—why are you still like this?”

Jiang Wanru would never know: holding the team back was only Liang Yue’s excuse. Sometimes, you dislike someone for no reason at all.

Meanwhile, outside the rink, a pair of cold eyes watched the two young men beside Shu Ran.

Qin Liubei walked over, noting Fu Yiqing’s expression, and shivered. “Hey, bro, why do you suddenly look so terrifying?”

Fu Yiqing’s only response was his deepening scowl.

Following Fu Yiqing’s gaze, Qin Liubei saw Shu Ran laughing and joking with the boys, then continuing to rehearse with them, still chatting and laughing.

Suddenly, it dawned on Qin Liubei. “Are you angry because of Shu Ran?”

Fu Yiqing’s expression faltered for a moment, his eyes evasive, but Qin Liubei pressed on, “It’s just exhibition practice—are you really so upset about Shu Ran not being serious?”

Seeing Qin Liubei’s knowing look, Fu Yiqing narrowed his eyes, continuing to watch. “Yes, far too careless.”