Chapter Seventy-Three: The Spell Dissolves

The Spring Festival Gala was proceeding in an orderly fashion, but Shu Ran and Fu Yiqing, seated on the sofa, hadn’t glanced at it even once. The purpose of the Gala was merely to enhance the festive atmosphere at home.

Shu Ran was busy receiving New Year’s greetings from teammates all over the country via her social feed.

Wu Xincheng wrote: "Wishing our little Shu Ran many happy returns, and may every year be as joyful as today. Your birth on New Year’s Eve makes you especially important and unique—everyone in the country is celebrating your birthday. You truly are an extraordinary little sweetheart! In the new year, you’ll achieve even greater things. I say this to you, and to myself as well."

Chen Lecheng sent the very same message.

Then Shen Yu, Wu Huihui, and others all sent greetings identical to Wu Xincheng’s.

This prompted Wu Xincheng to lose her patience. She tagged those who had copied her message in the group chat: “What’s with you guys? I can let Shen Yu off since clearly I’m the brains between the two of us, but Huihui, Chen Lecheng—what’s your excuse? Can’t you come up with your own greeting?”

Wu Huihui replied, “Sister, we’re family! Family greetings should be uniform!”

Wu Xincheng relented. “Alright, you’re forgiven. But Chen Lecheng, what’s your excuse? You’re not family.”

Chen Lecheng wrote, “Sister Orange, I’m family too. I’m your brother-in-law.”

Wu Huihui interjected, “Get lost, I don’t know this fool.”

Shu Ran chuckled aloud as she read their conversation.

Fu Yiqing watched her repeatedly, but she didn’t notice. Her cheer was infectious, and he found himself smiling unconsciously. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

Shu Ran handed him her phone to show him, but Fu Yiqing didn’t share their context and didn’t find it as amusing, though he offered a polite chuckle.

Just as Shu Ran was about to take her phone back, a notification popped up—a new message appeared in Fu Yiqing’s view.

It was from Zhu Hongzhe.

She took the phone from Fu Yiqing’s hand, only to hear him say, “His performance this season hasn’t been good. Maybe it’s related to that incident.”

Shu Ran was surprised, not expecting Fu Yiqing to speak up for Zhu Hongzhe.

Her expression softened. “Mm, I understand.”

Shu Ran opened Zhu Hongzhe’s chat and saw his freshly sent message: “Shu Ran, happy birthday.”

The greeting was so terse it seemed perfunctory, as if he didn’t care—yet beneath it lay something deeper.

Above this were the apologies Zhu Hongzhe had sent her since her injury.

Though she’d always told him not to worry about it, his subsequent performance in competition spoke volumes about how much it weighed on him.

This year, Zhu Hongzhe’s performance at the Grand Prix Final was mediocre, and his results at the major national competitions hadn’t been much better. At the National Championships, if not for a mistake by Chen Lecheng, he would have nearly lost his three-year winning streak.

Last year, he’d led Chen Lecheng by almost twenty points; this year, the gap was barely one.

And at the recently concluded Four Continents, Zhu Hongzhe had been pushed off the podium entirely, finishing fourth.

There was much grumbling in the team about his recent form.

Shu Ran thought it over seriously, then called Zhu Hongzhe directly.

At that moment, Zhu Hongzhe was watching the group chat, his heart skipping a beat every time Shu Ran’s name appeared—not out of excitement as before, but from a sense of guilt.

Around the dining table, his parents and relatives were deep in conversation. Only Zhu Hongzhe sat watching the Gala on his phone, his expression blank and withdrawn.

His parents glanced at him occasionally but dared not approach. Their son appeared cheerful, but everyone knew how much figure skating meant to him. His recent slump couldn’t be cheered away, not even by the lively holiday atmosphere.

They knew words of comfort were useless and pretended not to notice.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the coffee table.

He glanced over, and the name flashing on the screen jolted him awake. He grabbed the phone and hurried to his room, shutting the door behind him.

To keep his voice from betraying his excitement, he cleared his throat. “Hello? Shu Ran?”

Shu Ran walked toward the guest room on the first floor. “Mm, it’s me. Are Chen Lecheng and the others spending New Year’s at your place this year?”

Hearing her usual tone, Zhu Hongzhe relaxed. “No, this year they’re celebrating at the team dorms.”

“No wonder Wu Xincheng knew they copied her message,” Shu Ran remarked.

Zhu Hongzhe couldn’t help but laugh. “They did it on purpose to tease Xincheng. Without her, the New Year just wouldn’t be as fun.”

“Really? So with Wu Xincheng not at your house, are you bored out of your mind?”

He gave a noncommittal answer, but only he knew how gloomy he’d been before her call and how happy he felt now.

“Didn’t you say you were going to win the world title?” Shu Ran’s tone suddenly dropped.

Zhu Hongzhe was taken aback. “What?”

“The one who said he’d be world champion—why have you been performing so poorly lately? How do you have the nerve to go home for New Year’s?”

He let out a helpless laugh. “I’m just home for dinner—heading back to training first thing in the morning.”

“That’s more like it. You’re the hope of our country’s men’s figure skating. Don’t embarrass the team, or how will you ever have the nerve to bicker with Xincheng again?”

“Got it.” Zhu Hongzhe couldn’t stop laughing.

The air fell quiet again.

“Shu Ran, are you doing alright lately?”

“I’m fine. But my coach told me you haven’t been yourself lately, and asked me to tell you—the food delivery incident is in the past, let it go. It had nothing to do with you, so why keep dwelling on it?”

Zhu Hongzhe’s lips curled faintly. “Mm, I understand.”

“At Worlds, you’d better win first place for me, understand?”

“Of course.” Zhu Hongzhe’s voice was strong and confident again. “I’ll go make a wish that Yuan Cangyu doesn’t compete, then my title is guaranteed.”

Shu Ran couldn’t stop laughing.

She emerged from the corridor just as she met Fu Yiqing’s searching gaze. He quickly looked away, feigning nonchalance. “Such a long call?”

“You know how Zhu Hongzhe is—once he gets going, he never shuts up.”

Amused by her description, Fu Yiqing’s brief pang of jealousy melted away. “Come here.”

As soon as Shu Ran sat down, Fu Yiqing handed her the iPad.

She took it, puzzled, and saw it was connecting to a video call with Qin Liubei.

“Why are you making me talk to him? Don’t tell me he misses me?” she joked.

For once, Fu Yiqing played along. “Aren’t you going to greet your boyfriend prototype?”

Shu Ran was still laughing when Xu Jingyu’s face appeared on screen. “Wow, Shu Ran, you look especially charming tonight!”

Shu Ran frowned. “Jingyu, did you learn that cheesy line from Qin Liubei?”

“Who else around me is so shameless?” Xu Jingyu replied with a grin.

Hearing voices in the background, Shu Ran guessed, “Are you at your grandmother’s house?”

“Yep.” Xu Jingyu turned the camera toward the dining table. “Look at this guy—he’s completely forgotten about me, busy sucking up.”

On screen, Qin Liubei was engaged in an animated discussion on poetry and literature with Xu Jingyu’s grandfather.

Grandpa was passionately recounting how Lu Zhishen beat up Zhen Guanxi, spittle flying as he spoke, and Qin Liubei chimed in enthusiastically, “Exactly, Lu Zhishen is truly formidable.”

Grandpa’s expression shifted. “What do you think of Lu Zhishen?”

“He’s great—always ready to help the weak, a true man of honor.”

A subtle change flickered across Grandpa’s face. “Oh, I don’t like Lu Zhishen—he’s too hotheaded, never considers the consequences, and always runs off after causing trouble. In real life, I wouldn’t associate with someone like that.”

Qin Liubei was momentarily at a loss, but quickly recovered. “You’re right. From the perspective of those powerless women he helped, Lu Zhishen’s a good man. But given how blunt and tactless he is, I wouldn’t want to be friends with him either.”

A smile dawned on Grandpa’s face, and he looked at Qin Liubei with newfound appreciation before continuing their conversation.

Shu Ran was thoroughly entertained. She’d met Xu Jingyu’s grandfather before, and, not wanting Fu Yiqing to miss the joke, she leaned in to explain.

“Xu Jingyu’s grandpa is a huge reader, especially of history. The last time I visited, he talked to me about Romance of the Three Kingdoms for over half an hour—I was exhausted.”

Fu Yiqing looked up in surprise, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Qin Liubei hates reading.”

Shu Ran caught the deeper layer of humor and grinned gleefully.

Xu Jingyu clicked her tongue and swung the camera back, full of mock disdain. “Shu Ran, when you bring a boyfriend home, choose carefully—don’t pick a bootlicker like this one.”

Shu Ran instinctively glanced at Fu Yiqing, then quickly pulled the iPad closer to block his view.

She and Xu Jingyu chatted a while longer before ending the call.

Shu Ran stared at the television, feeling a bit bored.

Then Fu Yiqing suddenly stood up and beckoned. “Come with me.”

“Hm?”

He didn’t answer, leading her up to the glass room on the third floor.

Inside stood an astronomical telescope.

Fu Yiqing approached it first and gestured for her to join him.

Shu Ran’s imagination ran wild. “Are you taking me to watch fireworks?”

Fu Yiqing smiled. “No, the news said these are great days for stargazing.”

Skeptical, Shu Ran peered through the right eyepiece, and was dazzled—the entire Milky Way spilled before her.

She turned back, astonished, and could only exclaim, “Wow!”

Fu Yiqing laughed softly. “What is it?”

She waved him over, grabbing his hand and urging him to look. “It’s amazing, you have to see!”

His spirits lifted by her excitement, he leaned in to look.

Shu Ran tilted her head back, and together they shared the telescope.

Beneath the glittering stars, their faces drew ever closer.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked across Shu Ran’s view.

Delighted, she turned her head—only to bump her lips against something.

Startled, she moved back.

Though it lasted only a second, Fu Yiqing could still feel the softness lingering on his lips. His heart fluttered, but he forced himself to appear composed. “What did you see?”

In a whisper, Shu Ran replied, “I think I saw a shooting star.”

“Where?”

Seeing Fu Yiqing’s eager search, as if the awkward moment hadn’t happened, Shu Ran relaxed and pointed, “Right there.”

“Could there be a meteor shower tonight?”

“Didn’t the news mention it?”

Fu Yiqing shook his head.

Shu Ran’s eyes sparkled as brightly as the stars above. “Then I have to make a wish!”

“To be accurate, today is your birthday—you definitely should make a wish.”

A blossom of a smile spread across Shu Ran’s face as she closed her eyes.

—I hope to defeat Kristina at next year’s Winter Olympics.

When she opened her eyes, memories of watching fireworks with Fu Yiqing in City D last year surfaced.

“Can we see the fireworks on the riverbank from here?”

“In theory, yes.”

A look of anticipation brightened Shu Ran’s features. “Remember the ‘magic’ we invented last year?”

“Hm?”

“If we could guess which direction the fireworks would go off, our wishes would come true.”

Fu Yiqing nodded.

Shu Ran furrowed her brow in concentration for half a minute, then checked the second hand on her watch as five minutes passed—it was almost time for the fireworks to begin.

Suddenly, she shot up and pointed. “That way!”

The second hand hit twelve.

Fireworks soared skyward, bursting into radiant blooms across the night.

But they exploded in the opposite direction from where Shu Ran had pointed. Fu Yiqing frowned, then relaxed. “I don’t recall us inventing such a magic last year. Did you make that up just now?”

At his words, Shu Ran’s lips curled. “Alright, then the magic is void.”