Chapter 67 Her Persistence

Due to the inherent physical differences between men and women, the women’s singles event has remained at the level of triple jumps for many years. Even though the men’s singles have entered an era where quadruple jumps are commonplace, most female skaters still struggle with consistent triple jumps.

Nevertheless, Fu Yiqing didn’t see the Russian skater who landed a quad toe loop as a real threat. In fact, she quickly dismissed her from her mind. Shu Ran felt the same way.

First, this skater had only just moved up to the senior division. Since her promotion, her results had been erratic, and even at her best, she hadn’t stood out. More importantly, this 4T was likely something she’d landed by accident in practice, with questionable quality and potential under-rotation—flaws that no one knew about.

Shu Ran’s recent training had shown clear improvement, and today her jumps were of high quality, each one landing solidly. Her graceful form and flowing glides made the jumps look effortless, as if the ice was her natural element.

One could even say that she was more at ease on the ice than on land.

“How is it going?” Xu Jingyu came to see Qin Liubei, bringing some snacks.

Qin Liubei opened his mouth for a bite and said while chewing, “She’s doing well today. There are still two and a half months left; if she can maintain this state, I think we can increase the program’s difficulty a bit.”

He glanced at Fu Yiqing as he spoke. Fu Yiqing nodded slightly. “Yes.”

At the World Championships, the first and second place finishers secured three Olympic spots for their country, third to tenth earned two, and eleventh to twenty-fourth got one. If a country had more than one entrant, the number of Olympic spots for the next year depended on the combined placements of their two best skaters from the previous year.

In past years, China had sent two skaters: Liang Yue and Jiang Wanru.

This year, the team again had two skaters. One was Shu Ran. If Liang Yue hadn’t retired, she would have been the other; now, Jiang Wanru had taken her place, with Wu Huihui as the alternate.

The team’s intentions were clear: they wanted two Olympic spots this year.

Two skaters competing. If their combined placements totaled thirteen or less, they’d earn three spots; between fourteen and twenty-eight, two spots; more than twenty-eight, just one spot.

In other words, to get two Olympic spots, one skater needed to finish in the top twenty, and the other in the top twelve.

So Shu Ran’s goal wasn’t just top twenty-four, but top twelve.

After hearing what Huo Guang had said from Fu Yiqing, Qin Liubei cursed under his breath, “That old fox,” then added, “But top twelve isn’t hard for Shu Ran.”

Shu Ran turned her head robotically. “Can you please stop jinxing me?”

Qin Liubei replied, “How is that a jinx? You made it to the Grand Prix Final! I’m actually underestimating you. If not for what happened last time, your results would have been even better. Can’t you have a bit more confidence in yourself?”

Shu Ran pouted and nodded half-heartedly.

Fu Yiqing nodded as well. “This line-up is almost the same as the Olympic roster. Next year’s medal results won’t differ much from this World Championships, so prepare well.”

Another half month went by. Shu Ran moved most of her jumps to the second half of her program. It was more physically demanding, but it raised the program’s overall score.

She gathered herself, set her toe pick, and took off, tracing a perfect arc in the air before landing smoothly.

Today, the news reported Luo Lin’s retirement. Her decision to retire at this time shocked the figure skating world, but it was expected. Her right foot injury couldn’t wait any longer—she had surgery after her last competition and only appeared at a press conference after a month of recovery.

Fans learned she had competed in the Grand Prix Final while injured and expressed their respect.

Shu Ran lifted her free leg, right hand holding the blade in a beautiful layback spiral.

She skated all morning. While she paused to wipe her sweat, Fu Yiqing said, “Rest for five minutes.”

Shu Ran immediately skated off the ice.

Fu Yiqing handed her a sports drink and discussed a few minor flaws in her movements. “The competition is close. The most important thing is your mindset. Just recapture your state from the Russian Grand Prix—don’t stress too much.”

Shu Ran tipped her head back for a drink, replaying her steps in her mind, licking her lips.

Qin Liubei came back from the restroom. Seeing Shu Ran off the ice, he joined them but didn’t say a word before Shu Ran said, “Let’s run through the program with music. Since we changed the difficulty, we haven’t run it through completely.”

Fu Yiqing replied, “Alright.”

Qin Liubei added, “Yes, do it with the music. I’ll check the rhythm in the evening and adjust if needed.”

Shu Ran glided back onto the ice, took a deep breath, and nodded toward Fu Yiqing’s direction.

Melodious music began to play.

She rolled her neck, her outstretched arm graceful yet tinged with girlish innocence.

From the rinkside, Fu Yiqing wore a look of satisfaction.

Qin Liubei was stunned by Shu Ran’s performance, exclaiming from the heart, “She’s improved a lot!”

Fu Yiqing’s gaze followed her elegant figure as she spun and twirled across the rink, then soared with a powerful jump, his eyes following her into the air.

A Bauer step, a deep layback, then a solid 3F landing, followed immediately by a 3Lo.

A slight wobble—her body pitched forward dangerously, but her free leg didn’t touch down.

Shu Ran’s heart skipped, but she reacted quickly, steadying the jump with her knee. Otherwise, the 3Lo and the entire combination would have been wasted.

Her steps shifted seamlessly from a counterclockwise Mohawk to a clockwise Choctaw, left foot switching to right outside edge, then a chasse step.

Her movements were crisp and fluid.

The music swelled with the film’s climax, signaling the second half of her free skate.

Next came the 3T-2Lo-2S combination.

Shu Ran’s gaze mirrored the shifting emotions of Ophelia, the film’s protagonist.

She launched from her right back outside edge, toe-picking with the left to gain height.

Both hands rose above her head, making the jump even more beautiful.

In the 0.0001 second as she landed, a faint but sharp “crack” echoed in her ears.

A storm of pain struck without warning.

Shu Ran fell to the ice, clutching her leg, crying out in agony, “Ah—”

All the ease vanished from Fu Yiqing’s face in an instant. His heart lurched as he saw her collapse.

By the time Qin Liubei realized something was wrong and looked up, Fu Yiqing was already rushing onto the ice.

*

The air was thick with disinfectant. Huo Guang hurried from home and reached the hospital at seven in the evening, searching for a while before finally spotting Xu Jingyu and Qin Liubei outside the door.

“How is she?” he asked anxiously.

Xu Jingyu lowered her head without a word. Huo Guang, desperate, turned to Qin Liubei for help.

Qin Liubei’s brows were knit with concern. “They’re inside.”

Huo Guang pushed the door open and entered the doctor’s office.

Though he’d imagined the worst on the way, seeing Shu Ran in person still made his heart sink.

Shu Ran lay on the bed, her right leg propped up, her pants rolled to expose her slender, pale calf. Against this, her injured ankle looked all the more severe—bright red, swollen high and wide.

Tears still clung to her face, her lashes wet. It was impossible to know if she cried from pain or worry.

The sight was so jarring that Huo Guang stood frozen a moment before approaching.

Fu Yiqing glanced back at him, then turned to the doctor. “How is she?”

The doctor pointed to the X-ray. “The right ankle ligament is damaged. She needs at least a month of rest.”

Huo Guang was taken aback by the severity. “Will she be able to compete at Worlds in two months?”

Fu Yiqing’s eyebrows rose in displeasure as he interrupted, “After recovery, can she skate again?”

The doctor, realizing at last that Shu Ran was a national athlete, looked troubled. “A month is only if her recovery goes well. Even then, she shouldn’t skate right away. For the sake of her long-term health, I don’t recommend she compete in two months.”

Huo Guang fell silent.

Fu Yiqing frowned, eyes dark.

“I want to compete!”

It was Shu Ran who spoke.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“Aren’t there painkillers? Or a nerve block?” she said. If she didn’t compete this time, would she even get another shot at the Olympics?

She swallowed hard.

The girl on the bed bit her lip, tears ready to fall, her figure petite but her gaze unwavering.

Huo Guang was suddenly struck by the realization that Shu Ran was only nineteen—a child, really—enduring more maturity than her age should demand. And then he remembered: every athlete is as strong as Shu Ran.

He felt a pang of guilt for worrying only about her ability to compete at Worlds.

Fu Yiqing hesitated briefly. “There’s always the September Mist Horn Cup next year.”

Huo Guang caught on. “Yes, there’s the Olympic qualifier in September. If you make the top six at Mist Horn, that’s enough.”

“Wanru and Huihui are both capable of making the Olympics,” Shu Ran said with a bitter smile.

If the country earned an Olympic spot at Worlds, even just one, they would not be eligible for the Olympic qualifier. Whether Jiang Wanru or Wu Huihui secured that spot, Shu Ran would have no grounds to take that precious opportunity away from them.

Fu Yiqing and Huo Guang both fell silent.

Neither of them, not even Huo Guang, could ask Jiang Wanru or Wu Huihui to give up the spot for Shu Ran.

“That’s why I must compete at Worlds.”

She had given too many years for this Olympic dream; there was no reason to give up now.

The doctor, an elderly man, frowned, clearly displeased with Shu Ran’s disregard for her health. “There’s no need for this. Have you thought about what would happen if you aggravated the injury at Worlds? It could mean the end of your career.”

But Shu Ran remained stubborn, forcing a smile to reassure them, though it only made Fu Yiqing ache for her all the more.

His heart twisted with pain and helplessness.

“I can’t wait for another Olympic cycle,” Shu Ran said.

The doctor replied, “You skaters have two segments, right? Nerve blocks can’t be used more than three times a year. If, just if, you don’t—what then?”

“Painkillers, whatever it takes, I can bear it.”

The doctor shook his head, smiling. “Young lady, very few people can truly endure that kind of pain. Not everyone is Guan Yu.”

“I can!”

She’d recently been crying; her voice was still choked, but there was no trace of fear. Her directness made the doctor look up at her.

Perhaps her gaze was too resolute, for the doctor actually believed she might be able to bear it.

“It really hurts—a pain even grown men can’t handle,” he warned gently.

“We’ll go,” came an unexpected answer. This time, it wasn’t Shu Ran but Fu Yiqing, who had been silent all along.

Previously, only Shu Ran had insisted. Now, with Fu Yiqing’s support, she looked up at him with gratitude; their eyes met in silent understanding.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, lips pressed tight.

Thank you.