Chapter One Hundred: Preparations Before the Match
As Dr. Li tended to Shu Ran’s injured foot, he looked up and asked, “Do you still have to wear your old skates for the free skate?”
Though it was phrased as a question, the scene felt more like he had already anticipated her answer would be yes, ready at any moment to reveal the next step.
Naturally, Shu Ran nodded in affirmation.
Seeing her nod, Dr. Li continued, “When did you start feeling the pain in your foot today?”
Shu Ran’s expression was serious. “I made a note of the time — it was 2:25 PM.”
The ladies’ short program officially began at one in the afternoon, and Shu Ran took the ice around 1:50 PM. Considering the anesthetic hadn’t yet taken full effect, the injection’s numbing effect would have lasted roughly two hours.
“So the injection was done at the right spot today?” Shu Ran regarded it as a pleasant surprise.
But Fu Yiqing interjected, “We didn’t factor in the time before the free skate. The free skate lasts even longer.”
There were thirty skaters in the short program, but only the top twenty-four qualified for the free skate two days later. Shu Ran ranked fifth in the short program, placing her in the so-called “death group.”
After the short program, a draw determined the skating order for the free skate. Shu Ran drew number twenty-two, meaning she would skate fourth in her group. With twenty-four competitors, the free skate would take at least three hours to complete.
Hearing this, the faint trace of hope on Shu Ran’s face vanished without a trace.
Her mind became a tangled mess, leaving her at a loss.
Fu Yiqing asked, “Can the anesthetic last more than three hours?”
Upon hearing this, Shu Ran immediately looked to Dr. Li with hopeful eyes. But he shook his head. “If you could get an injection backstage, maybe it could hold up.”
Suddenly, Shu Ran exclaimed, “Isn’t there an injection that can last for days or even a year?”
Dr. Li shook his head vigorously. “No, that’s a corticosteroid treatment meant for ordinary people, different from what’s used for athletes. Plus, it has to be administered two or three days in advance — there’s no time now.”
Fearing Shu Ran wouldn’t give up, Dr. Li quickly added, “And that injection causes pain for several days before it takes effect.”
Shu Ran’s hopeful gaze dimmed instantly.
Just as they were at a loss, Fu Yiqing suggested, “Maybe it can be done in the car.”
Shu Ran’s eyes brightened. “Yes! We can do the injection in the car, just before we arrive at the venue!”
Dr. Li frowned. “The car is so shaky, I’m afraid I won’t be able to inject at the right spot.”
Shu Ran said, “Then inject it when the car stops.”
Dr. Li stroked his chin but didn’t object further.
Figure skating consists of two programs: the short program on the first day and the free skate on the second. Since this was during the Winter Olympics, there was a day in between.
Though Shu Ran placed fifth in the short program, no one dared underestimate her anymore.
Online rumors claimed her injury had healed, but she had been resting too long and hadn’t trained, so she had treated the short program as a warm-up. Scoring in the high seventies without showing her full ability, her current form suggested she might achieve the best result in the history of the national women’s singles team.
The men’s singles and pairs short programs also began well. Zhu Hongzhe and Chen Lecheng ranked third and ninth respectively, while Wu Xincheng and Shen Yu took first place that day.
Both free skate events for these categories finished before the women’s singles short program ended. The men’s singles concluded with Yuen Cangyu defending his world champion title, and Wu Xincheng and Shen Yu claimed their second Olympic gold with their program “Lovers.”
Only the women’s singles remained, its outcome still uncertain, full of anticipation and unknowns.
Everything seemed to be moving in a favorable direction. But did the bottom of the lake really look like what the naked eye could see?
Fu Yiqing urged Shu Ran to maintain a calm mind. She truly obeyed, avoiding online comments and not even touching her phone.
Yet Qin Liubei informed Fu Yiqing of the online situation. Fu Yiqing’s face darkened.
Qin Liubei smiled with slight confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I have a bad feeling,” Fu Yiqing said as he walked to the window, drew back the curtains, and looked up at the sky. “Something’s going to happen.”
If anything happened to Shu Ran, all those online praises would become the perfect ammunition for future attacks against her.
Qin Liubei scoffed. “What could possibly go wrong? Shu Ran has already gotten the injection. Didn’t you all agree to do it before the competition? There’s still time.”
He patted Fu Yiqing’s shoulder. “Besides, the difficulty level of Shu Ran’s free skate has been lowered. She’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
Fu Yiqing pondered for a long moment before softly replying, “Hmm.” His response seemed more like an attempt to calm himself.
He exhaled heavily, then shifted his mood and glanced sideways at Qin Liubei. “What about her parents?”
“You mean your in-laws?” Qin Liubei joked, raising his hands in surrender after sensing Fu Yiqing’s disdain.
“I told them Shu Ran has to get up early tomorrow for her competition. They’ve already gone to bed. Then I sent them back to the hotel. The little goldfish is with them; they won’t overthink things.”
Fu Yiqing nodded. That eased some of his unease.
After a pause, he added, “Release some news to let the public know that Shu Ran’s injury isn’t fully healed.”
Qin Liubei was momentarily surprised. “Why not just have the official account post it directly? Oh, right, posting that now would look like showing weakness. Got it, I’ll handle it.”
At nine the next morning, the women’s free skate would begin — the final battle.
Yet, Fu Yiqing found himself unable to sleep.
Tossing and turning in bed, his thoughts were filled with Shu Ran.
Her struggles and relentless efforts during training replayed before his eyes.
And her dazzling presence on the ice...
At the same time, Shu Ran was also unable to sleep.
The difference was she was exhausted but could not find rest, writhing in pain from her injured foot.
Only a painkiller could grant her peaceful sleep.
After failing to fall asleep for the fourth time, her dark, bright eyes suddenly snapped open in the darkness. She quietly listened to the ticking of the seconds hand and calmed her mind.
She muttered under her breath:
“10, 9, 8...”
When she reached one, Shu Ran reluctantly crawled out from under the covers to take a painkiller.
She had taken too many painkillers recently, but tomorrow’s competition was too important. Tonight’s sleep was essential.
After taking the medicine, Shu Ran finally fell asleep.
The day of the final competition had arrived.
Shu Ran woke at five and did some light training at the hotel before preparing for the nine o’clock free skate.
The competition was about to begin. In the team’s van, Dr. Li administered the final anesthetic injection.
“It’s going to hurt,” Dr. Li said succinctly.
Shu Ran nodded firmly, pressing her lower lip tight, bracing herself for the coming ordeal.
Fu Yiqing grasped her hand. Without looking, she instinctively squeezed his hand tightly, seeking courage from his warm palm to face the pain.
The first time she had been injected, Shu Ran instinctively turned her head away. This time, she faced it head-on.
The slender needle was pushed straight into the swollen, tender spot. Shu Ran clenched her teeth, her brows furrowed deeply, and cold sweat streamed down her forehead.
The scene was brutal. Qin Liubei couldn’t bear to watch. He kept glancing at Shu Ran’s expression and found her unnervingly composed.
Her pale, clean face carried a stubborn determination.
For the first time, Qin Liubei truly realized how cruel competitive sports could be.
No one saw the heartbreak and effort behind every athlete who stood before the world, and those who never made it to the arena were no less hardworking.
Facing this young girl, Qin Liubei felt genuine admiration for the first time in his life.
The last person he had felt this way about...
Qin Liubei glanced at their tightly clasped hands, his thoughts drifting far away.
With the needle withdrawn, the injection was finally over.
Shu Ran felt like a balloon deflating. She held her breath for a long moment before letting out a painful sigh.
This one injection was even more exhausting than three hours of training.
She gasped heavily, nearly all her strength drained.
Fu Yiqing reached out. “Water?”
Qin Liubei, handling all logistics, immediately followed suit.
Shu Ran shook her head. “No, if I drink now, I’ll have to use the bathroom later.”
Fu Yiqing asked, “So you plan to go without drinking?”
Under his gaze, Shu Ran finally drank some water.
There was still some time before the competition started. Shu Ran stayed in the car to catch her breath. Time was running out. It was finally time to go to the battlefield.
She took a deep breath, relaxed her brow, and said, “Let’s go.”
But Fu Yiqing didn’t move. “There’s something I need to say to you.”
“?”
“If you can’t hold on...” Fu Yiqing’s deep eyes lowered, “You don’t have to care about that bet.”
Shu Ran was startled but immediately understood. “But—”
He looked up, a hint of reluctance between his brows. “If this injection doesn’t last for three hours, don’t bear it. This competition can’t be won by enduring pain alone.”
Shu Ran replied, “Why say this before the competition?”
Fu Yiqing said, “Remember, you still owe me a promise: if the anesthetic wears off, I want you to get off the ice.”
She frowned, displeased. “Coach Fu! You know what I’ve sacrificed for this competition. If I quit now, even if you agree, I won’t accept it. You can ask for anything else, but not this. Alright, I’m going to compete now.”
The car door opened. Shu Ran limped away on her crutch, her back stubborn yet resolute.
Many media captured her limping, but she seemed unconcerned. Soon, her coach—whose fame was nearly rivaling hers—appeared in the frame.
Perhaps it was their imagination, but it seemed Fu Yiqing reached out to support her, only for her to brush his hand away. Yet afterward, they walked side by side toward the arena as if nothing had happened.
The audience had already taken their seats.
To maximize the anesthetic’s effect, they had waited until just before the competition to inject. So, until minutes before the start, the injection hadn’t kicked in.
But the competition had already begun.
The final event of the Winter Olympics was finally underway.