Chapter Seventy-Eight: Shu’s Father and Mother

Fu Yiqing exited the hospital room, his face devoid of any trace of relief. His brows were tightly furrowed as he stood with his back to the door, lingering for a long time without moving away.

He sat outside Shuran’s room for quite a while.

Another phone call interrupted his thoughts.

“Coach Fu, which room is Shuran staying in?”

“Mr. Shu, you’ve... arrived at the hospital already?”

Shu Yutian replied, “Yes.”

When Shu Yutian and Shao Anhong saw the live broadcast, their hearts tightened into a single line, wishing desperately they could fly to Russia at once. After learning from Fu Yiqing that Shuran had returned home for treatment, they immediately bought tickets to B City.

They called Fu Yiqing as they were preparing to disembark.

Fu Yiqing could hardly believe his eyes.

He’d only told the Shu couple about Shuran’s return to the country after he got off the plane at seven. The flight from D City to B City took at least two hours, so they must have hurried straight to B City upon hearing the news.

“Where are you now?”

“At the hospital’s main entrance.”

Fu Yiqing glanced back at the hospital room before stepping away to say, “Alright, I’ll come meet you.”

“No need, just tell us the room number.”

“She’s asleep right now. Let me take you to rest first.”

“Coach Fu, just give us the room number. Neither I nor Shuran’s mother are in any mood to sleep. If she’s resting, we’ll wait until she wakes up to see her.” Shu Yutian’s tone was unusually resolute, with a rare air of refusal.

This was entirely different from the gentle, easy-going Shu Yutian Fu Yiqing was used to. It made him realize that Shuran’s ability to resume training was no longer solely about her injury.

Seeing Shu Yutian’s insistence, Fu Yiqing reluctantly gave them the location, “Building C, 3-102. It’s difficult to find. I’ll come and get you.”

“Thank you, then.”

Fu Yiqing quickly met up with the two.

Shao Anhong, usually so talkative, was unusually silent today. Shu Yutian maintained his composure. “How is Shuran now?”

Fu Yiqing replied, “The specialists have operated on her. She should be able to recover completely in three months.”

Hearing this, Shao Anhong finally showed a look of relief.

Fu Yiqing led them toward the inpatient wing.

The couple said nothing along the way, the atmosphere heavy.

Fu Yiqing stopped at Shuran’s door, not entering.

Shu Yutian asked quietly, “Is it this one?”

Fu Yiqing nodded, then noticed Shao Anhong’s reddened eyes—now he understood her silence.

Shu Yutian and Shao Anhong leaned together, peering into the room through the glass window. Though they could only make out the outline of a bed, their hearts felt strangely settled.

Shao Anhong mouthed “Shuran” silently.

Shu Yutian frowned, helping her to sit on the bench outside the room.

Fu Yiqing leaned against the wall, but then Shu Yutian said, “Coach Fu, you should go rest. We’re here now.”

“It’s alright.”

Shu Yutian responded but didn’t repeat himself.

The corridor was quiet, even the nurses’ footsteps sounded unnaturally clear, as if time itself slowed.

Seeing Shao Anhong’s poor condition, Shu Yutian urged her to rest, but she refused. “Shuran is still suffering here, how could I sleep?”

Shu Yutian frowned, “She’s fine now, the surgery’s done. What good does it do to stay?”

Shao Anhong replied, “You go rest, I’ll stay here.”

The situation grew tense, the atmosphere even heavier.

“Mrs. Shu, with your current state, seeing you would only make Shuran worry more and affect her mood,” Fu Yiqing interjected at the right moment. “Let me take you to freshen up. When Shuran wakes, I’ll bring you back. Is that alright?”

Shao Anhong’s stubbornness finally softened. With Shu Yutian’s persuasion, she agreed to leave, though she kept looking back every few steps.

Inside the elevator, Shao Anhong appeared lost.

Fu Yiqing said, “You can rest assured, Shuran is fine.”

“She’s fine this time, but what about next time?” Shao Anhong suddenly countered, her gaze tinged with reproach.

Fu Yiqing’s eyes flickered, saying nothing.

Shao Anhong looked apologetic. “Sorry, it’s not your fault. But we didn’t just come to see our daughter.” She paused for a few seconds. “Does the team still want Shuran to keep competing?”

If Shuran’s injury healed and she herself was willing, of course the team hoped she would continue. But if she chose to quit, no one would force her.

Fu Yiqing could guess the purpose of the Shu couple’s visit.

“That depends.”

“Our wish is for Shuran to retire,” Shao Anhong said.

As expected.

Fu Yiqing nodded in understanding. “Given what’s happened, I completely understand your feelings. The team always respects the athletes’ choices. You can talk to her tomorrow.”

“Can the team understand us, the parents? Just do us a favor—tell her her leg will never allow her to skate again, or tell her continuing means losing both legs.”

Fu Yiqing frowned. “It’s easy for a patient to learn their condition from the doctor.”

“Then find another way. There’s always a way.” Shao Anhong’s eyes reddened as she spoke. “Coach Fu, you know Shuran’s personality. She’s quiet and obedient, but stubborn when it comes to skating. She won’t listen to us.”

Indeed.

She never quit even when she was at the bottom of the rankings, much less now, when she’s so close to her dream.

Anyone would feel it was a shame.

“I know you’re worried, but can’t you think of her as well?” Fu Yiqing hadn’t intended to say more, but recalling Shuran risking so much to compete in the World Championships, he felt an inexplicable ache. “She’s been skating for fourteen years. To give it up now—she’ll be heartbroken.”

Shao Anhong sighed, “We want her to reach the highest podium, but... it’s too dangerous.” Her voice trembled, tears welling up. “I can’t let her risk losing her legs just to be willful. She’s already gone farther than we ever imagined. Coach Fu, please, do us this favor—for me and her father. We have only one daughter. We don’t want fame or fortune for her, just for her to grow up healthy and safe. That’s all we ask.”

Perhaps other athletes have no way out after injury, having persisted so long with no other skills—they can only grit their teeth and carry on. But Shuran was different. Her family was wealthy; she could choose another path at any time, start over. It seemed she had more opportunities, but in reality, it became an obstacle on the road to her dreams.

Maybe other young athletes were forced to train by their parents, but not Shuran.

She’d faced countless attempts to persuade her to quit as she grew, yet as a child she possessed unwavering faith and loyalty to her dreams. Her persistence was surely harder than any ordinary athlete’s.

What gives a naive child such steadfast conviction?

Aside from passion, Fu Yiqing could find no other reason.

Therefore, only Shuran herself could convince her parents.

Fu Yiqing could only agree to Shao Anhong’s request for now.

The early spring sun still faded as in winter; though it was only three in the afternoon, the overcast sky made it look as dark as night, as if evening had already fallen.

The sound of sheets being turned was especially clear.

Shuran’s sleep was restless, waking and drifting off twice, having three dreams in succession—two of them skating, tumbling badly, pain searing.

The anesthetic must have worn off.

Suddenly, she felt an urgent need to go to the bathroom. She reached for her phone at the bedside, intending to message Fu Yiqing, but reconsidered.

Asking Fu Yiqing to help with something so private? That was too embarrassing.

She couldn’t even entertain the thought, her cheeks instantly flushed.

Her eyes caught the call button beside the bed.

Nurse—that’s right!

Shuran reached for the button, but her arm wasn’t long enough. No matter how she stretched, she couldn’t reach.

She propped herself up on her left elbow, stretching her right hand further.

Suddenly, someone pressed the button for her.

She thought it was Fu Yiqing, smiling as she was about to thank him—then was startled by the person who appeared.

Shuran rubbed her eyes, thinking she must still be dreaming. How could her father have teleported to B City?

Shu Yutian smiled, “What, you don’t recognize your own dad?”

Her eyes remained wide with disbelief. “Dad?! How did you get here?”

The nurse arrived quickly.

With the nurse’s help, Shuran made it to the bathroom, still bewildered. How did her father arrive so fast? Wasn’t he supposed to come this morning?

Seeing her dazed, the nurse chatted with her. “That’s your father?”

Shuran replied, “Yes. Do you know when he got here?”

The nurse shook her head. “When I started my shift this morning, your father was already sitting outside your room. I don’t think he’s left at all.”

Shuran’s heart trembled.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Shu Yutian’s expression instantly changed, the vacant look in his eyes replaced by a smile as he saw her.

But Shuran had clearly seen him sitting on the bench earlier, staring blankly.

She suddenly felt a pang of guilt and tenderness.

Her father must have watched the live broadcast and worried for her, rushing overnight to the hospital.

Shu Yutian took over from the nurse, helping Shuran back onto the bed and tucking her in. “Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? I can order delivery.”

Hearing “delivery,” Shuran shook her head. “No delivery.”

Though puzzled, Shu Yutian quickly changed his offer. “Then what would you like? I’ll go out and buy it for you.”

Shuran thought for a moment. “I don’t know what’s nearby. I’d like soup dumplings, pan-fried buns, porridge, noodles, fried dough sticks, steamed buns—any of those. Just buy whatever you find. If none of them are available, just pick whatever looks good.”

Shu Yutian noted them all down. “Alright!”

Soon, he returned.

His hands were full of all kinds of breakfast foods.

Shuran swallowed with difficulty. “Dad, are you opening a restaurant?”

Shu Yutian cleared his throat, still explaining, “I wanted to ask people where to find those things, but I was afraid you’d be starving, so I just bought a bunch.”

Shuran replied, “Dad, you sound so overbearing.”

“Can you make fresh pan-fried buns for me? I can pay triple,” Shu Yutian said, clearing his throat. “That’s exactly what I told the breakfast shop owner.”

Seeing his daughter’s stunned expression, he paused—and then, together, both burst out laughing.