Chapter Nine: Single-Minded Focus

"Yes, that's it, Shuran. Lift your arm a bit higher, just as I showed you this morning." Xu Jingyu clapped her hands on the rink, signaling which movements Shuran executed well and which still needed work. Skating to the music, Shuran matched her steps to the rhythm, her slow leg movements conveying the sorrow of the melody and the graceful lines of her body.

As the final note drifted from the speakers, Xu Jingyu continued coaching Shuran on some hand movements out on the ice.

Qin Liubei’s nimble fingers tapped away at the keyboard, then he turned to Fu Yiqing. “Seems the training has paid off. Shuran’s jump technique was never weak, and her footwork and spins are basically stable now. To improve further, she'd have to focus exclusively on technical training.”

Fu Yiqing glanced at him. Qin Liubei shrugged with a grin, “Okay, forget I said anything.”

The two women on the rink had just about finished their routine. Xu Jingyu exited first; Shuran followed, intending to leave as well, but Fu Yiqing stopped her.

Shuran looked up, waiting for his words. “Go through the routine again with the same music,” he said.

Without questioning it, Shuran glided back to the center of the rink, waiting for the music to begin.

Having spent over a month here, Xu Jingyu already understood Fu Yiqing’s training methods. The past month had never deviated from the scheduled times, and this unexpected change made everyone a little uneasy.

Qin Liubei apparently noticed too and solemnly started the music.

It was a piece from the film Shuran had watched recently, "Murder on the Orient Express." The slow melody rippled like circles on a calm lake, gentle sunlight tinged with a hint of gloom.

Shuran shifted her movements with the music’s changes; as the rhythm grew tense, her speed increased. Yet, compared to before, her movements were slightly off, even sloppy, and the arm position Xu Jingyu had just taught her was no longer precise.

The music stopped abruptly; Shuran halted with it.

Knowing she'd made a mistake, Shuran left the rink and, feeling uneasy, looked toward Fu Yiqing. “Coach?”

“What do you think?” Fu Yiqing finally spoke, but directed the question to Qin Liubei.

Watching the data on the screen, Qin Liubei analyzed, “I think I understand what you’re getting at. It is indeed an issue.”

Their conversation was cryptic, and Xu Jingyu grew impatient. “You get it, but I don’t. What’s the problem?”

Qin Liubei seized the chance to tease her. “It’s normal for a single-celled organism not to comprehend the language of higher beings.”

And so, the banter between them resumed.

Fu Yiqing approached Shuran, looking down from above. “Haven't you noticed why your movements fall short?”

Xu Jingyu’s gaze followed, focusing on Shuran.

Shuran furrowed her brow, lips pressed together. “I did have trouble keeping up with the music earlier.”

Indeed, as she skated, she felt out of sync with the music, unable to execute each movement quickly enough, let alone perfectly.

“Not just earlier,” Fu Yiqing shook his head. “You’ve always had this issue.”

“But when I was working with her just now, she performed quite well. That must have been a fluke, right?” Xu Jingyu insisted.

“No mistake escapes his eyes,” Qin Liubei smiled, closing his laptop and slipping an arm around Xu Jingyu’s shoulders. “Goldfish, let’s go eat. You hungry?”

Xu Jingyu tried to elbow him off, but couldn’t escape his grip as he led her toward the door.

“Bird flu, let go. Eating with you ruins my appetite, understand?”

Qin Liubei released her with equal disdain. “Shut up, idiot. Didn’t you notice those two have something to discuss?”

Xu Jingyu paused, then gave Qin Liubei another elbow after regaining her composure.

*

Only Shuran and Fu Yiqing remained in the rink, making it seem even more vast, his voice echoing louder.

“It seems you still don’t understand the cause.”

Shuran nodded quietly.

Fu Yiqing walked over to the bench and gestured for her to join him.

“When Xu Jingyu was with you, your subconscious told you her applause would interfere with your hearing. So you hummed the melody in your mind. When there was no interference, you instinctively relied on your ears to follow the music,” Fu Yiqing explained. “Do you admit this?”

Shuran’s surprise answered him.

It was true; worried her hearing would be affected, she’d been humming internally, but when the music was clear, she stopped and relied on listening. She’d never realized her timing issues stemmed from this.

Worry crept in. It was already late December; by May or June, she’d need to choreograph programs for the competitions in the second half of the year, but now her progress was minimal, and mistakes kept surfacing.

“But it’s not a major problem. If you gradually correct it, you’ll save more time for intensive training.”

Shuran glanced sideways at him, doubting he was only comforting her. “Really?”

“Each season’s program is rehearsed countless times and the music played over and over. Out of habit, you could perform without music. Now, I change your music every few days. It’s normal that you’re not used to it and struggle to keep up. The purpose of this practice is to develop your artistic sensitivity. So today’s conversation isn’t about that.”

“Eh?”

“There’s a question I think you should answer first.”

Whenever Fu Yiqing was this serious, Shuran feared something important was about to happen; sweat gathered in her palms. She rubbed her hands. “Alright, ask.”

“Initially, I began training you because of a bet with the president of the International Skating Union. What about you? Are you training to win Olympic gold, or simply out of love for figure skating?”

Stunned, Shuran blurted, “Is that… important?”

“Of course. As training intensifies, without a goal, how will you find motivation to persist?”

“Uh…”

Shuran pondered, but found no answer, stammering, “Do I really need a reason?”

Seeing her uncertainty, Fu Yiqing didn’t press. He stood up. “There’s a month left before the New Year. Give me your answer after the holiday.”

Alone on the bench, Shuran’s mind whirled.

She could roughly grasp Fu Yiqing’s intent.

To win an Olympic championship, persistence and effort are not enough; one must have a resolve to burn all bridges.

*

As the year’s end approached, Shuran received calls from her parents asking when she'd return home for the holiday.

She usually went home a week before the New Year, but things were different this time. She didn’t know when Fu Yiqing would grant leave.

A few days later, the four of them were dining together when Xu Jingyu received a call from her mother, also asking about her return for the holiday.

After hanging up, before Xu Jingyu could ask, Fu Yiqing spoke seriously, “You can go home whenever you wish.”

Hearing this, Shuran raised hopeful eyes from her rice bowl toward Fu Yiqing. Whether he didn't notice or misunderstood, he offered no reply.

The next day, Xu Jingyu packed her things and left the villa. Shuran watched her go, feeling a sudden emptiness.

There were still two weeks until the New Year—it was not too late.

When the usual date for going home arrived, Fu Yiqing still hadn't agreed. Shuran was too shy to ask, but her parents grew impatient, declaring they’d come to B City in three days to bring her home. Surely Fu Yiqing wouldn’t refuse.

Shuran counted days on her fingers, looking forward to each training session.

On the appointed day, she woke up and checked her messages but saw nothing from her parents about coming to B City.

Had they overslept?

Without thinking much of it, she trained as usual.

Today’s session ended with a low spin when a crisp applause sounded from outside the rink, followed by a cheerful “Shuran!” that swept away all her worries.

She skated out with a bright smile, hugging her mother, Li Zhiqing, tightly. “Mom, I missed you so much.”

Li Zhiqing’s eyes were red, stroking her daughter’s hair. “We missed you too, sweetheart.”

“How did you get here?”

Nearby, her father, Shu Yutian, smiled at his daughter. “Your coach Fu invited us to watch your performance. We didn’t expect you’d improved so much, Shuran.”

Her parents had always doted on her but knew how damaging the sport could be, so they rarely watched her training or performances, understanding that every movement was built on sweat and tears.

Shuran glanced at Fu Yiqing, a bit embarrassed. “It’s all thanks to Coach Fu’s guidance.”

Fu Yiqing stepped forward at the right moment. “Shuran’s morning training is about done. Why don’t you two stay for lunch?”

His words struck Shuran as odd. With the New Year approaching, her parents were clearly here to take her home, yet Fu Yiqing seemed oblivious.

She quickly realized why: Fu Yiqing, having lived abroad for years, must have forgotten all about the holiday.

She decided to remind him gently after lunch.

When dealing with people other than Shuran, Qin Liubei always appeared perfectly normal. Used to expressing himself in data and speaking like a scholar, he earned trust easily, and soon, he and Shuran’s parents were getting along well.

Thanks to Qin Liubei’s explanations, Shu Yutian and Li Zhiqing quickly understood that the bet within the International Skating Union could benefit their daughter, giving her access to better resources and connections than other domestic skaters.

They had previously urged Shuran to retire, fearing for her health and doubting she’d gain anything. Now, with Qin Liubei painting a brighter picture, half their worries were eased.

Shu Yutian patted her shoulder, speaking earnestly. “Shuran, take good care of yourself out here. Seeing you progress makes me proud, but remember to look after your health. Don’t force yourself if you’re unwell—your body is your greatest asset.”

Li Zhiqing, hearing this, teared up again and looked at Qin Liubei. “Qin, we entrust Shuran to you these days.”

Watching this farewell-like scene, Shuran’s heart was full of doubts.

Then Li Zhiqing suddenly said, “Coach Fu, actually, we could stay in B City for the New Year. It wouldn’t affect Shuran’s training, would it?”

Shu Yutian shook his head. “If we stay, Shuran won’t be able to focus on training.”

“Yes,” Fu Yiqing agreed. “If you remain, she won’t be able to concentrate, and her sacrifice of skipping the holiday would be wasted.”

Shuran trembled, her raised eyes wide with shock.

She—was to give up going home for the New Year?!