Chapter Ninety-eight: Getting the Block Injection

Over the next few days, Shu Ran remained at the hotel, still devoting more time to off-ice and simulated training than to actual on-ice practice. Outside the window, migratory birds called; her restless heart sank deeper and deeper, and just as it had finally settled, this particular day stripped it bare once more.

Today was the first day of the short program competition. Shu Ran had barely slept the night before.

The root cause was still nerves.

At first, she tried hard to fall asleep, but by two in the morning, her mind was still wide awake. She simply gave up trying and let fate take its course, rising at five in the morning. By this hour, the other skaters were probably already deep in training, but Shu Ran's foot injury was too agonizing—unless she received a pain-blocking injection, her foot would never withstand the pressure of the ice. So Shu Ran had more time to rest.

She stayed in her room practicing spins.

"Shu Ran."

Hearing her name, she knew it was time for the injection. Dr. Li entered with an assistant. While the assistant prepared the tools, Dr. Li looked at Fu Yiqing and Shu Ran. "There's something I didn't tell you... actually, thirty to forty-five minutes is the shortest duration the injection can maintain."

Shu Ran instinctively glanced at Fu Yiqing's expression before asking, "What do you mean?"

Dr. Li: "Normally, the injection requires locating the most painful spot before administering, so the block can take full effect. In other words, if we find the right spot, this injection can last one to two hours. But if the spot is off, it may only last thirty minutes."

Fu Yiqing: "So you didn't tell us yesterday because it's hard to find the right spot?"

Dr. Li held up his tools. "That's one way to put it. We press and probe again and again—the process itself is extremely painful. Most patients become so overwhelmed they can't even distinguish which point hurts the most. However, today's short program has plenty of time, so even if we hit the wrong spot, it won't affect the competition. But for tomorrow's free skate, we absolutely must get it right. To avoid that trouble, it's best to find the correct spot today, so tomorrow's competition won't be jeopardized by a failed block."

This was undoubtedly good news.

Shu Ran nodded fiercely, hope surging in her clear, bright eyes.

Yet when Dr. Li's hand pressed down on each point around her ankle joint, she couldn't hold back a cry of "Ah!"

Fu Yiqing immediately gripped her right hand. "Hold on tight."

Each subsequent press made Shu Ran's tears stream down. Instinctively, she grabbed Fu Yiqing with her other hand as well, with tremendous force—though she herself didn't realize it.

Fu Yiqing didn't so much as flinch, as if he were trying to absorb the pain for her.

Dr. Li's pressing had every nerve in Shu Ran's body strung taut as a wire. With each press, he asked, "Does this hurt more?" Eventually, her sensation numbed, and no matter where he pressed, the pain all became indistinguishable.

But finding the most painful spot wasn't the worst part.

Dr. Li said, "It's right here," then prepared the syringe. "This will hurt considerably. Try your best to stay still—any sudden movement will compromise the injection's effectiveness."

Shu Ran's heart trembled. The moment the needle pierced her skin, her tear ducts reacted fiercely, beyond her control. She bit her lower lip hard, her nose burning and eyes flooding.

Fu Yiqing could feel the agony in his palm—she was gripping far too hard, yet he remained utterly still. This pain was nothing compared to even a fraction of what Shu Ran was enduring.

The injection lasted an extraordinarily long time.

Its end came far slower than she had imagined.

When the needle finally withdrew from her skin, Shu Ran was drenched in cold sweat, her face as pale as if it had been soaked in water. At that moment, her body gave out and she pitched forward.

Fu Yiqing's arm shot out and caught her, pulling her into his embrace.

He looked at Dr. Li. "How is it?"

Dr. Li shook his head. "We'll have to see how the medication takes effect. Once the competition is over, we'll know whether or not we hit the right spot."

After Dr. Li went through more precautions, Shu Ran finally regained her composure. The group left her room and let her rest for a while.

Qin Liubei was about to head back to his own room to pack up his camera equipment when his peripheral vision caught the hand holding Fu Yiqing's keys. "What the hell—why is it so red? Who clawed you—"

Before the words left his mouth, it clicked.

There was only one person in this world who could claw Fu Yiqing—and Fu Yiqing had willingly offered his hand for the clawing.

Qin Liubei swallowed hard, let out a long sigh, and acted as if nothing had happened, whistling a tune as he strolled away.

Five hours before the competition, the area outside the arena buzzed with excitement. Spectators lined up early to enter, and quite a few media outlets were interviewing passersby. Joy radiated from every face, as if it were a festival.

A reporter stopped two girls and asked, "Which country are you from, and which athlete are you cheering for?"

The two girls, wearing masks, exchanged a glance and shyly shouted a name: "Minakura Mio, we love you!"

The reporter was taken aback, but her professional reflexes kicked in and she laughed along.

Then a Chinese television reporter turned their camera toward a group of four.

The reporter asked in English, "Which country are you from?"

Xu Jingyu froze for a second when stopped, cleared her throat, and immediately adopted a broadcast anchor tone: "China. We're here for the Chinese team, though my favorite skater is Shu Ran."

Hearing Chinese, the reporter felt an instant sense of familiarity and turned the question to the middle-aged man and two middle-aged women beside her. "Did you all come to watch together as a family?"

Afraid the reporter might mistakenly pair off the Shus as a couple and cause embarrassment, Xu Jingyu quickly explained, "I came with my mom. They're my best friend's parents."

The reporter: "Your best friend didn't come?"

The Shus quickly answered, "She did. Our daughter arrived a few days ago."

The reporter: "Wonderful. Well, I won't keep you from the competition."

After the reporter walked away, Shao Anhong chuckled. "If she found out our daughter is Shu Ran, do you think she'd have kept us longer?"

Zhu Xinhui raised an eyebrow, her lips curving upward. "She'd probably have held us there and never let us go."

Shao Anhong feigned a gasp. "Then let's get out of here fast."

But Shu Yutian's expression had been grim the whole time. Shao Anhong asked what was wrong.

He slowly looked up, brow furrowed. "I keep having a bad feeling."

As the words landed, the smiles on the other three faces froze.

The first to give Shu Yutian a proper scolding was, of course, Shao Anhong.

The moment the world had been waiting for was finally approaching.

At the draw for starting order in the women's singles short program held two days prior, Shu Ran had drawn position 17—the fifth skater in the third group.

Fortunately, the short program was shorter in duration. Shu Ran could only hope she'd draw an early starting position in the free skate, so the injection would take effect at its optimal time.

Before the competition officially began, Efetinia was the first to greet Shu Ran, but the exchange was limited to a brief hello before both went their separate ways.

Shu Ran was about to head forward when she happened to run into Samantha, who looked just as startled. Remembering how Samantha had apologized to her on Instagram, Shu Ran's impression of her had improved considerably. The two exchanged only a nod and a smile.

As they passed each other, Shu Ran heard Samantha murmur softly, "Fighting!"

Shu Ran turned her head and saw Samantha's unyielding back as she walked away.

Noticing she hadn't caught up, Fu Yiqing asked, "What's wrong?"

Shu Ran smiled softly and shook her head. "Let's go."

Thirty competitors were slated to compete in total.

Among them, all of Shu Ran's old rivals were placed in the final two groups—the so-called group of death.

The fourth group's starting order was as follows:

19. Efetinia

20. Kyoma Rena

21. Chelsea

22. Zhang Ziqing

23. Maggie

24. Jennifer

The fifth group's starting order:

25. Samantha

26. Chen Yuqi

27. Chihara Yoka

28. Nadilova

29. Miyae Mie

30. Christina

Although the later groups held a slight advantage in base value, as long as Shu Ran didn't make mistakes, her short program result would dominate the field. So the starting order in the short program mattered little.

As Shu Ran's thoughts drifted, she felt her shoulder enveloped in warmth, followed by that familiar voice: "Ready?" It was gentle, as always.

Shu Ran focused, and in the instant she lifted her gaze, her eyes hardened with resolve. "Mm."

The competition finally began.

Most of the skaters in the first group were newcomers. Strictly speaking, Shu Ran had never competed in the Olympics either, so she, too, could only be considered a newcomer.

Perhaps because this competition was so momentous, skaters in the first group kept making mistakes.

The injection had taken effect. For the first time since last year's World Championships, Shu Ran felt her condition gradually recovering. During off-ice jump practice, she was full of energy.

Backstage, some skaters did yoga, some warmed up, and no one spoke to anyone else. Everyone waited in their own quiet tension for their turn.

Soon it was time for the third group to wait at the rink entrance.

Inside the arena, there was hardly an empty seat. Even the lesser-known skaters could easily feel the audience's fervor—a rare sight in any competition.

Shu Ran suddenly realized: this was the Olympics. The stage every skater dreams of standing on, facing the entire world—the ultimate platform to prove oneself.

During the six-minute warm-up before the event, Shu Ran, in a green costume, stood out brilliantly on the ice. The other five skaters wore black, blue, dark gray, red, and purple, but they didn't command the same attention because they weren't as distinguished.

Among those in her group, Shu Ran had already faced three at the Olympic qualifiers. After the previous skaters finished, it was finally almost her turn.

Although she had used these two programs for two seasons, her costumes had changed repeatedly. Unlike the mysterious, elegant purple of her previous competition, this costume drew on the dominant color of the film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon—green. But it wasn't the fresh, vivid kind of green one normally saw.

It was like the scenery in the film: an endless bamboo sea, vast swaths of green woven together, appearing from a distance as deep and heavy as black.

It echoed the heroine Yu Jiaolong herself—possessing extraordinary martial skill and representing the hope of the martial world, yet straddling good and evil, sometimes black, sometimes white.

Aside from the change in color, the design had been revised as well. The mid-upper arm was now adorned with flowing silk butterfly sleeves, making it easier for Shu Ran to draw her "sword" and lending greater visual appeal.

Shu Ran had fallen in love with this costume at first sight.

A great costume lifts a skater's spirits, and in turn brings out a better performance.

With a light step, Shu Ran glided a full lap around the rink. She skated so fast she could barely make out Fu Yiqing, but she felt the direction of that gaze that put her heart at ease.

She smiled faintly and finally came to a stop at the center of the ice.

The announcer's voice rang out: "Next, representing China, Shu Ran."

The music began—mournful, yet not sorrowful.