Chapter Forty-Nine: Taking a Stand Without Delay

Fu Yiqing only allowed Shu Ran to accept an interview from CTV, and as soon as it ended, the two of them immediately plunged into intensive training.

He hadn't expected things to develop in an entirely unforeseen direction.

The sound of skates slicing through ice echoed throughout the rink.

Fu Yiqing watched Shu Ran’s routine with satisfaction, but when he heard someone call his name, he turned to see Qin Liubei beckoning him over with a flustered, secretive expression.

A sense of foreboding struck Fu Yiqing.

He glanced back at Shu Ran on the ice; seeing she hadn’t noticed anything amiss, he slipped away quietly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Qin Liubei’s brow was tightly knit, his gaze complicated. “The thing you were worried about happened.”

Fu Yiqing felt his heart skip a beat.

They had only just returned from Germany, and apart from training, the only other event was the interview. That meant if something happened, it could only be related to the interview.

Qin Liubei handed him his tablet. “See for yourself. After you’ve read it, decide whether you want to hide this from Shu Ran.”

As expected, something had blown up on Weibo.

A certain account had posted, implying that nowadays celebrities have designated scriptwriters even for their social media posts, and variety shows are obviously scripted. Fans have little chance of hearing anything genuine from the stars themselves.

This post sparked sadness among fans and fueled bystanders to mock the stars for being fake.

Originally, this was aimed at celebrities in general, but because Shu Ran’s interview video had just gone online, she was caught in the crossfire.

The issue was that, in her interview video, Shu Ran looked up the entire time, staring into the camera, and her reliance on a script was all too apparent.

Although most netizens tried to be fair, the trolls couldn’t resist targeting her.

“Is coming up with your own answers really that hard? People always say athletes aren’t well-educated, but how uneducated do you have to be to need your answers written out before an interview?”

“If everything’s written out for you, what’s the point of the interview? Just show your face?”

“Honestly, she’s just reading a script. Loads of celebrities get their interviews vetted in advance, but Shu Ran is just too honest—her reading from the script was too obvious. Ultimately, she just lacks experience.”

“Internet influencers flocking to showbiz is one thing, but now athletes can’t focus on their sport either. Are there not enough athletes trying to break into entertainment? Wasn’t her ‘Ice Demoness’ routine just an excuse to enter showbiz?”

“The idiots in the comments are amazing. Once an athlete becomes famous, they get all sorts of endorsement deals. There’s no such thing as staying out of the entertainment industry anymore. Fame brings you in whether you like it or not.”

There were plenty more unpleasant remarks. Even though some reasonable voices spoke up in Shu Ran’s defense, they were in the minority.

Fu Yiqing lost the desire to keep scrolling, but he quickly skimmed through the rest, his expression growing darker.

“What do we do now?” Qin Liubei asked.

His eyes deep, Fu Yiqing replied, “For now, don’t let her know. We’ll deal with it after the American Grand Prix.”

Qin Liubei glanced at him, sensing his turmoil, and sighed, “Alright, but don’t forget to take Shu Ran’s phone later.”

“Mm.”

After finishing her footwork and routine transitions, Shu Ran was about to ask Fu Yiqing to play her music, but when she looked around, he was nowhere to be seen.

She had to leave the rink herself to play the music.

The moment the music started, she heard footsteps and looked up, catching the worry in Fu Yiqing’s eyes.

“Did something happen?” she asked.

Fu Yiqing was momentarily taken aback by her sharp intuition, but quickly masked his unease with a gentle smile, shaking his head. “Go on, I’ll handle it.”

Shu Ran nodded, relinquished control of the music to Fu Yiqing, and returned to the ice, treating the practice as if it were a real competition.

Her performance was exceptional, but Fu Yiqing’s gaze remained somber.

After she finished, Shu Ran wiped her sweat and got ready to change.

“In the days before we leave for America, you’ll stay at my place. Our lessons continue,” Fu Yiqing said.

Shu Ran looked up, slightly dazed, but nodded.

Two mornings later, the team was called to another meeting.

Just as Shu Ran left the villa, Qin Liubei suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!”

Fu Yiqing looked at him inquiringly.

Qin Liubei slapped his forehead. “At this meeting—won’t Shu Ran run into the men’s singles and pairs teams?”

“So?”

“What if they mention what’s happening online?”

Fu Yiqing’s hand, which was clipping a flower, trembled, and the whole stem was cut off.

He immediately headed for the door, but just as he reached it, stopped himself.

He sighed. “Forget it. She’ll find out sooner or later.”

“And the Winter Olympics?” Qin Liubei pressed.

Fu Yiqing raised his deep-set eyes. “All this time, I’ve had a bad feeling.”

Qin Liubei was stunned. “You actually believe in that?”

He opened the door and looked out at the direction Shu Ran had gone. He’d always thought he didn’t believe in such things, but sometimes, one has no choice.

*

This time it was a Grand Prix meeting. Upon hearing about yet another meeting, Wu Xincheng and the others were exasperated.

“Why are there so many meetings this year?” Wu Xincheng complained.

Shen Yu patiently explained, “Try to understand, this season’s results affect the Winter Olympics next year.”

Wu Xincheng sighed, reluctant but accepting.

She looked up and spotted Shu Ran, nudging Zhu Hongzhe and saying in a teasing tone, “Hey, Shu Ran! Haven’t seen you in days.”

Chen Lecheng nodded. “Exactly. I heard she’s moved back to train with her coach.”

Wu Xincheng chimed in, “I’d do the same if I could. Her coach is so handsome—waking up for training every morning would be so motivating.”

But Shu Ran didn’t notice them and turned straight towards the conference room.

Wu Xincheng, busy chatting with Chen Lecheng, missed her, but Zhu Hongzhe, who had nothing else to do, was asked, “Hey, Zhu Hongzhe, why didn’t you say hi to Shu Ran?”

“Didn’t see her,” Zhu Hongzhe replied, face dark.

“What’s with you? Didn’t I remind you? How could you not see her? How are you supposed to pursue—”

Before she could finish, Zhu Hongzhe shot her a menacing glare, making her stop in her tracks, heart pounding.

“When did I ever say I liked her?” Zhu Hongzhe said coldly.

Seeing this, Shen Yu quickly shielded the startled Wu Xincheng behind him. Usually so affable, even he couldn’t keep his face pleasant. “Hongzhe, if you don’t want to hear it, we won’t mention it again, but lashing out at a girl—what kind of man is that?”

He frowned, eyes sharp.

Zhu Hongzhe snapped out of it, took a deep breath, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, Xincheng.”

It was the first time Wu Xincheng had been apologized to by him; she was bewildered, not understanding why he’d lashed out, nor why someone as proud as him would apologize.

Zhu Hongzhe strode ahead, but suddenly stopped again. “I really don’t like hearing that kind of joke, but I went too far just now.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Wu Xincheng hastily replied. “I won’t tease you anymore.”

She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but apologizing seemed right.

With this episode behind them, and Chen Lecheng lightening the mood, the four soon resumed their banter—except Shen Yu, who kept glancing at Zhu Hongzhe, as if trying to see through him.

Shu Ran discovered she was the first to arrive in the meeting room. A minute later, someone finally pushed the door open.

It was the two ice dance pairs, as well as the pairs skaters competing in the Grand Prix.

They weren’t close, so Shu Ran simply nodded and smiled politely.

Then Wu Xincheng and the others, with whom she was friendly, entered.

Seeing them, Shu Ran’s eyes lit up, and she waved, “Xincheng!”

Wu Xincheng grinned instinctively, hand half-raised, but then remembered Zhu Hongzhe and her smile froze.

Zhu Hongzhe and Chen Lecheng didn’t greet her, and Shen Yu kept a close eye on Zhu Hongzhe, making the atmosphere suddenly awkward.

A mocking voice cut in, “Only greet the famous athletes, huh? Seems like the others don’t want to bother with you either.”

It was Liang Yue.

She was also a Grand Prix competitor, though Shu Ran hadn’t noticed her entering.

Shu Ran frowned faintly, glanced at Liang Yue, then quickly looked away.

She had no intention of arguing with Liang Yue here.

Then the harsh scrape of a chair leg sounded, drawing everyone’s attention to Zhu Hongzhe.

Known for his jokes, today he was uncharacteristically grim.

Zhu Hongzhe sneered, “If you can’t speak properly, then don’t speak at all. Wasn’t everyone once unknown?”

Everyone was shocked.

That was a direct retort!

Shu Ran looked at him in surprise—although he hadn’t glanced her way since entering, his words were clearly on her behalf.

Liang Yue’s expression soured.

Probably the most excited person in the room was Wu Xincheng—if not for Shen Yu signaling her, her glee would have been impossible to hide.

Liang Yue said, “Not even Olympic champion yet, and you already have a knight defending you? But who’s your prince?”

Seeing Zhu Hongzhe about to explode, Wu Xincheng finally interjected, “What’s it to you? Are you the women’s committee chair? All you do is gossip. No wonder you can’t even make the Grand Prix final.”

“You!” Liang Yue shot to her feet, her chair scraping the floor again.

Wu Xincheng retorted, “Me what? I know I’m beautiful as a flower, and I’m a world champion…”

She ignored Shen Yu tugging at her sleeve under the table and continued, “Go ahead and tell everyone I bullied you—I’m not afraid.”

Faced with such a public falling out among teammates, Shen Yu sighed helplessly. “Liang Yue, just leave. This meeting probably isn’t important. If there’s anything crucial, I’ll have someone fill you in.”

“You world champions band together quickly enough,” Liang Yue sneered, casting a cold glance at everyone before storming out.

“Finally, the air is clean in here,” Chen Lecheng said, fanning himself as if offhandedly.

Liang Yue was even more infuriated and slammed the door on her way out.

Everyone felt relieved.

Then Zhu Hongzhe whistled lightly and started joking with a younger men’s singles skater, lifting the oppressive mood.

Taking advantage of the relaxed atmosphere, Zhu Hongzhe and Wu Xincheng apologized for their earlier outbursts.

Fortunately, as teammates who saw each other every day, everyone was already aware of the animosity between Liang Yue and Shu Ran, so they didn’t take it to heart.

Zhu Hongzhe frowned at Shu Ran. “Why didn’t you talk back? So timid?”

He sounded exasperated.

Shu Ran blinked and quietly replied, “I’m used to it.”

Everyone fell silent in surprise.

Then Wu Xincheng burst out laughing, sat next to Shu Ran, and pinched her cheek. “You’re so cute.”

Chen Lecheng sighed. “Why do I feel a little sad?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

But Shu Ran shook her head. “It’s really nothing. Back when I was always at the bottom, every time Liang Yue said things like that, it just motivated me to train harder.”

Zhu Hongzhe said, “But you just kept ranking at the bottom.”

Wu Xincheng glared at him. “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t speak.”

Zhu Hongzhe shrugged.

Seeing the mood was right, Wu Xincheng pulled Shen Yu over to sit by Shu Ran.

“I think she must have seen the stuff online, that’s why she lashed out,” Wu Xincheng said.

Shu Ran frowned. “Stuff—online?”

“You don’t know?” Wu Xincheng was surprised.

Shu Ran shook her head. “I’ve been training intensively and haven’t really used my phone.” In fact, she’d already handed her phone to Fu Yiqing.

Wu Xincheng immediately pulled out her phone and opened the relevant page.

“Look.”

Shu Ran first looked at the comments—over ten thousand already, a clear sign of how hot the topic was.

@CTV: “Actually, she’s a really sweet girl. She was so nervous during her first interview—we recorded so many times and tried to help her relax, but every time the camera rolled, she’d freeze up and could barely say a few words. Our reporter Wang Nian almost felt the interview was impossible, so her coach helped her write out her answers in advance and had her read them. Otherwise, the interview might have taken all day. With the Grand Prix coming up, we didn’t want to waste her valuable training time. Our intention was for everyone to get to know Shu Ran better, but since things turned out this way, our official account will release some behind-the-scenes footage of the interview.”

“So that’s what happened. But can someone really be that nervous?”

“Is the first commenter an idiot? There are all kinds of people in this world. After watching the video, it’s exactly as the official account said—Shu Ran really is an innocent girl. She’s only nineteen, already won a silver at the Whistle Cup, and those criticizing her—who are they?”

“LOL, became a fan after watching the video. You can see Wang Nian’s despair in it.”

“I never imagined my ice goddess could be so adorable in real life. I’m a fan now. Fellow ice fans, what should I prepare to support a figure skater?”

“Replying above: Just money. You have to travel the world following them, and worse, even if you buy tickets, you only get to see your idol for a few minutes.”

“Reading that, I’m moved to tears. Poor ice fans.”

“I’ve always believed in Shu Ran. All the ‘family’ know she and Genzo Yura are following each other on Instagram. No idea how they got to know each other, but Genzo rarely follows other athletes. If he follows someone, they must be a good person.”

Wu Xincheng read this with Shu Ran and couldn’t help blurting out, “Holy crap,” staring at the unperturbed Shu Ran.

“You’re really mutuals with Genzo Yura?”

Shu Ran nodded.

Wu Xincheng went back to Weibo, and saw a new trending topic.

#ShuRanGenzoYura#

She clapped Shu Ran on the shoulder, adopting a serious tone. “Tell us how you met Genzo Yura, and I’ll let you live.”